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secret-engima · 3 years

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Team Gremlin verse: The Reunion

(So this is ... a very rough draft so to speak of what I wanna do for the reunion scene with Oscar and Ozpin. I’m not dubbing it ‘canon’ yet because I’d have to wait for the actual fic to catch up and then tweak accordingly but so far- this is what is in my head and I figured I should let others enjoy the angst :D)

...

Ozpin slipped away from the crowd exiting the tent with a pounding heart. He could feel his fingers shake on the hilt of Long Memory as he managed to duck into the shadows outside the large emerald and gold tent. He had found him. All this time searching, all this time praying and hoping and looking only to be too late and he had found him. He had sat in the stands and seen the boy in action, heard the music and seen the magic both fake and real, and felt the sheer energy and joy the little Ringmaster felt in his performance like lightning in Ozpin’s own bones. And then- the song. The final song. Because Oscar always rounded off with a song, ones not meant for spectacle, but instead for the heart. A sincere wish and message for those fortunate to sit beneath the ceiling of the Emerald City for the night.

The song alone could have brought him to tears. But to hear it sung by the little boy in the ring, the impossible, wonderful, miracle child who had every right to lash out at the world in hate, yet instead chose to fill it with wonders … it had been all he could do to keep from crying with there in the stands. To not try to climb down the makeshift seating and into the ring because all he’d wanted was to hold him.

His son. The son he had never seen outside of grainy photos and shaky recordings, who he had tried desperately to find the more he learned what the child had lived through. And now Ozpin had found him. Now Ozpin had a chance to meet him. He just had to get backstage.

It wasn’t hard to escape the eyes of the crowd, and it wasn’t much more difficult to slip through the shadows to the little ring of emerald tents set up behind the big top, the tents where the various performers of the rare and popular Emerald City act stayed. He hesitated on the boundary, trying to pick out which one of the colorful, green-themed tents belonged to the Ringmaster —his son, his child that he had never gotten to meet, would never have known about save a series of accidents—. He heard laughter and activity behind him, the performers returning to their temporary homes, and he ducked forward into the shadows of a tent at random. They would run him off if they found him, he was certain of that. He was a stranger to them at best, or worse, a known player in the war that had created the boy he hoped to meet, that had no doubt hurt many of those who followed him —such as Hazel, and how the man had ever been swayed from Salem’s promise of revenge, Ozpin could not fathom but did not want to test—.

He heard no activity from the tent he was hiding behind, and while the air whispered with hints of magic, it wasn’t coming from this tent, so he moved on to another. This time, he dared peak into the tent flap, but saw nothing but the vague shadows of personal belongings. No sign of the little Ringmaster —his son, his child—.

Ozpin backed away from that tent, heart drumming anxiously in his chest. Then he turned and froze.

The massive Grimm, the strange one that Qrow called Hound. The monster that for some reason Ozpin never wanted to contemplate —but had spent many hours doing just that— followed his son everywhere. Behaved like it was tame and natural rather than a creature of Darkness that longed only for destruction. It stood just a few feet away, so large it’s head was even with Ozpin’s chin as it watched him with flat, glowing red lights for eyes.

His fingers tightened on the hilt of Long Memory, lifetimes of instinct screaming to raise his weapon and attack first before it could kill him or anyone else here. But he had seen recordings of this same Grimm, dressed up in ridiculous costumes to hide its true nature from unpracticed eyes, parading around in the circus ring like a big dog. He had seen his son ride on its back and balance on its head and Qrow had recounted more than one instance of Oscar and the other children escaping on its back. It hadn’t been present for this particular show, but he had seen multiple recordings of previous ones where it entered the ring and no one had been harmed. Of course, Ozpin’s son —Salem’s son, for all the second half of that coin tore at his guts— had been close by all those times, but here there was no one in sight but the two of them.

The Grimm tilted its head slowly to one side, a ragged ear pricking like an actual dog’s. It wasn’t attacking. Even though Ozpin knew he must stink of so many different types of fear he could attract an entire pack of Beowolves all on his own. It just … studied him.

Slowly, it’s jaws opened, and Ozpin prepared to dodge some attack. Instead, the large, blood red tongue slid out from between massive teeth and lolled there, a slow, thoughtful trio of pants before it licked its teeth and shut its jaws again. Without any further reaction, it lowered its head and turned away, walking slow and ponderously toward one of the tents that had light peaking through the bottom. Ozpin watched it leave with a blank, confused mind, then startled when it stopped and twisted around to look over its shoulder at him.

It looked like it was waiting.

It looked like it wanted him to follow.

Inhaling raggedly —this was the stupidest thing he had done in lifetimes he was sure—, Ozpin started following in the Grimm’s footsteps.

It led him to the tent farthest from the bigtop, nudged open the flap with something like practiced ease, and shouldered its way in. Ozpin lingered outside, suddenly too afraid to go a step further. There was a Grimm in there, but somehow, the realization that his son might be in there was even more terrifying than that. If he stood out here too long, he would be caught, he knew that, and yet…

“Hey, Sondor,” murmured a voice through the tent fabric and Ozpin’s world crystalized, “Everything alright? You left in a bit of a hurry.” A deep rumble, inhuman and bass and … oddly content sounding. The voice —a child’s voice, a gentle voice, a voice he’d just heard laughing and waxing dramatic for a show of fake magic and real mysteries— laughed faintly, “Checking on someone then? You know everyone has to stay up late on performance nights.”

If he held on any tighter to his cane, he thought it might shatter, but the feel of it grounded him like it always had, and with the last bit of courage he possessed in this lifetime, he pushed the tent flap open and slipped inside as the voice —his son— finished saying, “We’ll be sure to take long naps in the morning.”

Ozpin was here. He was standing in the same space as his child, without a crowd to be wary of or a performance to keep them apart. He was standing in some kind of makeshift workshop, with a cot on the floor on the far side and the vast majority of space taken up by a battered, foldable metal table that seemed to be a desk and all the tools of a magician’s trade. Cards and wands and hats, gloves and fanciful outfits and a hundred thousand other things that didn’t matter, because amid all the mess, with his back mostly to the entrance and a massive Grimm lying contentedly next to his feet, was the Ringmaster.

His child.

The Grimm raised its head again to stare at him, a low noise he’d never heard the monsters make before rumbling from its chest, and the boy tilted his head toward the tent entrance absently, still not looking away from the Dust gem he was setting in his elaborate cane, “Hey Neo, you’re back early. I thought you were still scoping … out…” he finished setting the Dust in his cane, looked up and saw Ozpin standing there. Neither of them moved. Green-gold eyes in a young face —he looked ten had Qrow really been correct on estimating his age closer to twelve or thirteen?— went wide, and the magic passively swirling through the tent shrunk in on itself until he couldn’t feel it.

It occurred belatedly to Ozpin that while he had essentially been stalking his son for the last few years in an attempt to meet him and make sure he was okay, the boy wouldn’t know him at all. Or worse, had only heard of him from people who hated him —from Salem herself even—. And now Ozpin had just shown up in the boy’s living space without warning or invitation.

Terror and nerves tangled up all the words he wanted to say, all the ones he’d longed to say, and instead he found himself folding both of his shaking hands on the pommel of his cane and bleating out the first, most habitual line currently living in his brain, “Hello, I’m Professor Ozpin-.”

A shout, loud and gutted, and all his words died in his throat again as the boy threw himself off his little camp chair and at Ozpin. Long Memory clattered to the ground unnoticed as Ozpin instinctively raised his hands to wrap around the little body that collided with his waist, slender arms tightening like a vise around him and Ozpin couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe-.

Had he really said-?

A hiccuping sob from the child in his arms, a fully body thing that shook him from his tousled black hair to his shoes while that word spun endlessly in Ozpin’s mind, haunting him and confusing him because he couldn’t have heard that right. He couldn’t have heard…

“Dad.”

The word echoed between them again, muffled by a young face buried in his suit jacket, and Ozpin felt his own breath start to stammer as he clung tighter to the boy in his arms, sinking down to his knees despite the screaming in his leg and burying his face in flyaway black hair, “I’m here.” He choked out, “I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re alright. I’m right … I’m right here.”

Magic pressed against his skin, burrowed into his soul, needy and desperate and fearful in a way his daughters’ had never been until the very end —until the moment his shield broke and he could no longer protect them—. It begged him and Ozpin forgot about everything else, forgot every other concern or person in the world as he let his own magic unspool and twine with the younger, needy magic begging him for comfort. Behind his closed eyelids he could see it, the colors spinning and twisting in the space between their souls. His ever-dwindling green wrapping around a younger, deeper, stronger wellspring of emerald laced with snapping red, whispering black and dancing flickers of purple, gold, blue, and white.

The younger magic coiled tightly in his, desperate and pained, crying in relief and fear just as loudly as the sobs that shook his son’s body. It was open to him, painfully open and raw, trusting despite how this boy had every reason to fear another’s magic. In the breath between crying and comforting and accepting, Ozpin’s magic brushed up against what could only be called a crack in his child’s soul. A jagged old wound that had never properly healed. Glass sharp and weeping and-.

Pain-pain-pain-fear-fear-please-pleasedon’tleavedon’tleaveme-.

Magic, green and old, bodiless and desperate and half-mad with agony sinking inside and locking in place in a message that screamed all the way down to bone marrow and soul fiber.

Mine-my-child-I-love-you-I-loveyoumychildmy-

“Oscar.” Ozpin choked out, struggling to shake off the remnants of memory hidden in soul shards and old wounds. Realization reeled, pulled at the fabric of reality beneath his feet. “Oscar,” he repeated, rolling the name of his son over his tongue and wondering at the sensation of right, of familiarity even though he had never met this child before. He had, of course, known his name. The boy made a little joke of it at the beginning of all his performances, but now the name had weight. Had an echo of knowledge to it that he couldn’t quite grasp.

Even though, somehow, his son knew him. And perhaps that should terrify him. Because his son was a child still, yet somewhere in the spaces between incarnations, or in the moments between life and death and dreams, his child remembered him and clung to a message of love even though it had been tangled up in so much pain.

“I tried,” Oscar sobbed into his chest, “I tried, I’m- I’m so sorry-.”

Ozpin hushed him, ran shaking fingers through his son’s hair and ignored the way his glasses had completely blurred over from the tears they caught, “I know. It’s alright. You’re alright. You’re alive, Oscar.” He guided his son’s face to his scarf and pressed his cheek against the top of Oscar’s head, “You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me.” He inhaled raggedly and set aside the spinning theories trying to take root, the odd mix of age-youth-age and time-turned-back in Oscar’s magic that made him wonder. He had long assumed that Oscar’s aging was … strange, a byproduct of being the child of two immortals. Yet feeling Oscar’s magic, the soft echo of bells and clockwork gears hidden inside it, he couldn’t help but remember that gravity and its magic was an aspect of space and space was a partner of time. There had been spells that toyed with time long ago that left impressions on the souls that used them, though never on such a large scale as what Ozpin was contemplating.

But if anyone could reinvent a way to turn back the hands of the world’s clock, it would be the child of Ozma and Salem, surely —had his son known a previous incarnation, or had his son met Ozpin himself in the future, had he lived a prisoner of Salem until he was a teen or even an adult, only meeting his father to see him die in agony at his mother’s hands, had a single dying message of love amid a lifetime of darkness truly been enough to make him fight time itself to make things right—.

But that didn’t matter right now.

He was here. Oscar was here. They were both alive and safe and his little boy was tucked trustingly in his arms, and that was what mattered right now. It mattered more than anything else in the world.

“I love you, Oscar,” he whispered into his son’s hair as he rocked them back and forth, uncaring of his jacket and scarf becoming soaked with tears, or the way Oscar’s magic coiled around his soul so tightly it was almost burning, “I love you. I’m here.”

“I missed you,” Oscar choked out between sobs, another piece to Ozpin’s puzzle set aside for later times, “I love y-you t-too.” A hiccup, loud and ugly, a shiver in Ozpin’s arms, “Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” Ozpin promised, hand cradling the back of Oscar’s head, trying to shield him from the nightmares he could sense lurking within, “I won’t go. I’m right here.” He exhaled wetly, “I’m right here.”

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Team Gremlin verse #the song oscar sung in the circus this time #was Home by Jeff Williams #in case ya'll wanna break your feels

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pretty-face-breaker · 3 years

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Thought We Understood Each Other

c.w. creepy whumper, electrocuting someone unconscious, whumpee going behind whumper’s back and paying the price, possessive physical touch/indirect threat of violence

Following up Santiago’s escape.

——

It took him six hours to get home but for Hayko, the time passed as if he was wading through it, never stopping to take a breath. He drove with a grip on the steering wheel that left his hands so cold despite the buildup of sweat against the rubber. The air was murky and the roads were murky and though he was there, there seemed to be a thick fog severing his mind and eyes.

That didn’t stop him from thinking about Santiago.

It only kept him adrift.

Once Hayko turned that final corner that led up to Nick’s condo, he wondered how he even managed to get home in one piece. Had he even… waited at the red lights? But as soon as the realization of being not fully present had kicked in, he was adrift again. Each step up the stairs-

-and he did take the stairs. All seven floors worth, far from recognition.

Each step knocked his heart down further and further into his stomach because for once, unimaginably, he was actually guilty. Hayko was guilty of what before would have seemed like suicide but now had happened—Santiago was gone that fast. He had shut out any voices that whispered the potential that he hadn’t made it across the border since he started driving home.

Step. Step. Step. Soft little clacks in evenly spaced intervals. Hayko’s movements were mechanical, breaths shallow, lips immobile but he could register at one point that he was praying in Armenian. It was for a lot of things from Santiago’s safety, to Vladimir’s own, to the possibility that maybe, by the grace of some god he couldn’t believe in anymore, all of them would be alright.

As the next request left him in a breath, his leg buzzed once and he jumped in nervous surprise. In a stairwell, close to the seventh floor holding that one door, his phone was ringing. Hayko didn’t look at the name as he slid to accept the call and pulled it to his ear. “Hello?...” he asked tentatively.

“Running late?” came the reply and he suppressed a shiver.

“Yeah, I’m almost up, just a few more minutes,” Hayko spoke, pooling the remainder of his energy into keeping his voice as steady as Santiago would have wanted. “Sorry, thought it would’ve taken less—” His breathing stuttered as Nick cut him off.

“I don’t expect you to start talking until you’re up here.”

There had rarely been times when Hayko hadn’t been terrified of his voice, the jarring candidness of it shaking him to his core but especially now, where the only way was up, as the stairs below him seemed to be falling away one by one as his heels left them, no terror had ever come close to this one. He wondered whether to shoot Vladimir a concise Get out right fucking now text but knew that was out of the question.

Hayko knew he would never leave without finding him first.

“Still there?” Nick asked over the line, snapping Hayko out of his trance and he quickly croaked out a grim yes moments before it clicked off, Nick’s way of hurrying him. He absently stared up the final flight and was mildly horrified as he felt his regret devolving to stupid courage to take another step, and another.

Decisions had been a liberty for him, at least for the past year.

It’s just that this one had consequences that may not just sit skin deep.

Finally, Hayko pushed open the door to the hallway and watched the number of the one further away get closer by the second—he could never remember the three digit marking on the wood, only the shape of it.

That and what lay behind it.

It was such a lousy barrier, this door. And he couldn’t bring himself to open it without first fumbling for his phone.

He realized his hands were shaking when he scrolled for Vladimir’s contact and typed out “If you don’t hear from me for a bit, don’t worry. He’s out.”

And then the door opened.

Hayko’s eyes snapped up as he stuffed the phone away in his jeans and he started to form a greeting but by the way Nick was looking at him, he probably didn’t want to hear it as much as he wanted him inside where he could have him completely. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

He waited diligently for Nick’s arm to slide off the frame as his invitation inside. Every muscle in his body contracted as the door slid shut and locked—though, there was a delay. It took every fibre of his being to stay calm, for his own sake.

At this point, Hayko knew Nick wouldn’t pity him for his fear as he had mastered how to mute it just so he wouldn’t have to. He hated it when Nick pitied him, would rather he just got it over with instead. He pulled off his jacket and went for the wooden rack, expecting to be stopped but Nick only watched him hang it up and then slip off his shoes.

Hayko stammered at last, “It took longer than I-I thought it would.” Cursed himself for not holding up any longer. “There was… some traffic here and there and—... I made a few stops for tea and…” He glanced up and gulped at the wolfish smile Nick was now wearing.

“You know,” Nick started, a hint of laughter in his voice, “you lie better in court than you do out of it.” He stalked over and Hayko braced himself for whatever was next. Nick took his palm and pressed it to Hayko’s chest, not so much as shoving as it was pushing him back right until his head hit the wall.

Hayko didn’t respond, hoping staring up at him with lost, pleading eyes was enough. He shuddered at the tickle of knuckles tracing down his cheek and the next snort made him want to curl in on himself. Please, just do something already and let my fucking nerves calm down.

“You can lie to me, you do it all the time,” Nick continued. “Not like there’s a point though. You’re a pretty shit liar.”

God, please. Please please please

Hayko swallowed thickly but his breathing really hitched when he heard the faint buzz of the phone in his jacket. He looked to Nick rapidly to see whether he heard as well but the taller man was still eyeing him, trying to pull it out of him, trying to wring him like a cloth, but Hayko had prepared for any interrogation. Had his lines and excuses chronological and ready.

“Why do you think I’m lying?” he asked. Feeling how close Nick’s breath was fanning on his face, he tipped his head back further. Don’t do this, don’t do this now

Nick watched him thoughtfully. “You look afraid.”

“Always,” he corrected. “I always look-... like that.” Please, please, please

A clever smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and Nick inched off the wall, muttered “Good point” and Hayko was left to catch his breath quietly, fingers tapping away at the wall behind him to dispense of the grueling anxiety and near-euphoric relief. At the same time, he was skeptical under the surface but that surface was thick with exhaustion and tension and fear enough for where the hell his friend had gone and whether he was even alive and whether it was worth anything.

It will always be worth it.

These are the only parts of you that you have left.

A chaste reminder. A welcome one.

Nick had a track going, something smooth and ‘60s in the living room and he turned to beckon Hayko to come in as well. “Don’t just stand there, love. I’ve backed off haven’t I?” He laughed easily and went towards the desk holding the radio to change the track. Hayko thought it strange he would as he’d heard this song before—one of his favourites.

Nick was entirely right. He had backed off, by some miracle. Hayko began to think that the prayer had worked and that this was a shot at redemption. Of course, he wouldn’t have known. He hadn’t told him anything about it, only implied he would be late until the night before, gone quietly and returned just as quietly albeit a little later. Only that part was a real fib.

He tore himself from the wall and made after Nick, discomforted by the calmness but quickly assuaged that fear. It was irrational. Told himself that it was over, it was alright, and to take his good graces and just last the night before he could just forget for a few hours.

He wouldn’t know. There wouldn’t be a way for him to know, there wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t know because it’s not possible.

It’s not possible because I tried too fucking hard just to get him across the border, fucking hell, let me have this one thing, let me have it I haven’t asked you for anything else, have I? Just let me have this, please

Hayko felt comfortable all of a sudden, the music cushioning his thoughts as he went to slide onto the couch until he realized that, here a moment before, Nick was gone again.

“Hey, where did—” As he turned to call Nick back, he was already there and Hayko froze. Caught the cattle prod only for a fraction of a second before Nick grabbed him and pressed it into his chest, sending a tearing shock that kept his eyes wide in an immobile stare as each wave jerked through his limbs, ripped a new line of agony and lit up every nerve in his body.

It went on for two, three agonizing seconds and his hand kept him there.

No no no

Santiago

The last glance he caught of Nick’s face was the final blow.

A laugh from the man who finally tore it away, letting Hayko collapse before nudging his forehead with his shoe. “You fucking idiot. And here I thought we understood each other.”

——

Tagging @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome--hunter @whumpsorbetism @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914

#whump #whump writing #whump drabble #creepy whumper #whumpee #possessive whumper #possessiveness #electrocution #Nick and Hayko #emotional whump #conditioned whumpee #whumper

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sirowsky · 3 years

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The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language + severe triggerwarning for victims of domestic abuse.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: House-hunting, mole-hunting and Anita-hunting (sort of). And this chapter is like 95% conversation.

Chapter 32

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“That is way too big… What would we even do with all that?”

“Hermosa, we fill the space we have. That’s not a euphemism, just a fact. If we have four rooms, we’ll fill those, and if we have twelve, we’ll fill those too.”

“Who the fuck needs twelve rooms?”

“It only has eight rooms.”

“And there are only four of us.”

“So, that’s it? No room to grow further?”

“Honey, just how much are you anticipating this little family to grow? That’s a totally serious question, by the way. How many kids would you actually like to have?”

“If your weird-ass body permits – like… four.”

“Hey, who are you calling w…… did you just say four?”

“Yup.”

“What… including Missy, or… an additional four?”

“I’m not picky. If we end up with just the two little miracles we have, I’ll still be the happiest man alive, but I wouldn’t mind having a bunch. Five, six, however many our love can create, I’ll be more than happy to nurture and raise and love all of them unconditionally, even when they inevitably pee on me.”

You had no idea how to answer that, so you just stared at him. But he knew how ambivalent you were about all things concerning family, so he didn’t pose the question back to you, and instead just smiled while he watched the cogs in your mind struggle to fit together.

“S-six… you’d be okay with another… six kids?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck, Marcus, I’m struggling to even get it into my head that we’re gonna be joined by a tiny fragile infant in about 7 months, how are you already contemplating another five?!”

“Relax, preciosa, I’m not actively contemplating it, I’m just answering a question. Saying I wouldn’t mind something, doesn’t mean I’m aiming for it.”

“But you’re looking at houses with eight rooms…”

“Like I said: we fill the space we have. Rooms have endless usages, it’s not like we have to make all of them bedrooms. We can have home-offices, a separate play-room, a separate dining room.”

“Yeah, I get all that, it just seems excessive.”

“Sweetheart, all I’m saying is, we’re looking for a home for life. If our family grows more, I don’t want to have to move again. I want the place we pick to be one that can take anything we weirdo’s throw at it.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll look at the big-ass house.”

“Thank you.”

He handed you the phone and you scrolled through the different images, seeing things you liked and things you didn’t. But when you got to the master bedroom, your eyebrows shot up. The room looked ordinary at first glance, but when you took a closer look, you noticed that it had some special features.

“Marcus… is this why you’re so interested in this house?”

“It’s not the only reason…”

“Who the fuck owns this place - Stormy Daniels?”

“No, just some accountant.”

“The bedroom is soundproofed.”

“Which is convenient and useful for all kinds of people, but especially parents.”

“Hard pass.”

“We could just go and look at it before you dismiss it completely.”

“Nope. Not happening. Move on.”

“Why? Seriously, what’s so bad about it? Missy wouldn’t have to wear headphones every other night, and we wouldn’t have to worry about her overhearing stuff.”

“Yes, those are good points. But: what if something happens to one of us, and the other needs to shout for help? What if something happens to Missy, and she tries to shout for help and we can’t hear her? What if someone breaks into the house, and we don’t hear it? I mean, I’m pretty sure you have super-hearing, but I don’t, and you’re not home every second of every day. I want to live in a house that speaks to me. You know, the way our house used to creak in the mornings when the sun warmed it, and settle again in the evenings, when it cooled. And if we are gonna have a bunch of kids, I sure as shit wanna be able to hear every little thing they get up to.”

He looked ridiculously pleased at how you’d thought that through.

“Got it, hard pass on all soundproofing. But can I ask you another serious question? One you might not have such a clear answer for?”

“Sure.”

“Our house… why did you send the whole thing over there? Why not just Prince and his machines?”

“There wasn’t any thought involved with that, just instinct, and at the time, the house didn’t feel safe. I walked in and it was like entering a tomb. And I honestly don’t know if I could’ve ever walked in to that house again without having that feeling.”

“I can understand that, mi amor. And I hope you know that I’m not asking because I’m in any way upset with you. I saw the look in your eyes in those moments, and I know how scared you were. To be able to utilise your abilities with that kind of precision and delicacy right then, was down-right miraculous.”

“Let’s just hope I never have to try and repeat that miracle. Now, what’s next on your list?”

He tapped away on his phone, blinking a few times at the wetness in his eyes, before handing it back to you.

“Wow… this is even bigger.”

“Same number of rooms, just a bigger kitchen and more garage-space.”

“Oh, I like the yard.”

“Check out the backyard.”

“Holy… that’s huge! And a pool. We’d need guardrails around that, or I’d be perpetually terrified for the baby to fall in. Are those trees on the property as well?”

“Yes. That whole little patch of woods is.”

“Really? I mean, a pair of swings in those trees…”

You were so engrossed in the phone that you didn’t see Marcus smile wider as he watched you fall in love with the place.

“Oh, I love the kitchen. And there’s a fireplace! Those are beautiful floors. Holy shit – I could swim in that bathtub…”

“Sooo…… you like it?”

“I do.”

“Enough to go have a look?”

“Definitely. But Missy has to come too.”

He beamed. You’d had a few long conversations about the house-hunting before you actually started, and after a meeting at the bank, you’d found out that your credit was basically more than big enough for anything you might want, which was an odd thing to try and get your head around. Not that you wanted a life of luxury, but it was sort of strange to realise that you actually could have practically any kind of life you chose, in terms of housing. The two of you had settled on a firmly planted roof of expense that you were willing to extend to the purchase. And even though this house was huge and renovated to the nines with modern upgrades, that still managed to float seamlessly into the older stem and feel of the house, it wasn’t really particularly near that roof.

“I’ll call the realtor and see if they can fit us in later this week.”

“It’s a nice area. A little out of the way, but a good neighbourhood, and Missy wouldn’t have to change schools. Our commute to work would be a bit longer, but on quieter roads. And there’s a fence around the property. We could get a dog, or two. Or even a frickin’ pony with the size of that backyard.”

Marcus just stared at you with that giddy smile firmly planted in his whole frame, while you rambled on, completely lost in your own thoughts, until his silence eventually made you snap out of it and look at him.

“Oh, crap. I’m already moving in, aren’t I…?”

He just laughed and hugged you.

“I’m definitely on board with the dogs. But I’m gonna need my phone back if I’m gonna be able to call the realtor.”

You quickly handed it back to him, just as there was a careful knock on the door. You were in Marcus’s office, sitting in one of the sofas, perfectly naturally just sitting next to each other, for once. It had only been a week since you were released from medical, and he was still a little worried about getting you worked up, so you hadn’t been together yet, and it was creating something of a space between you. Not a wall, nothing that exclusive, just a little void that was a bit hard to reach across. He called for the person to enter, and Will stepped in, immediately shooting an apologetic glance at Marcus. He still hadn’t quite recovered from seeing Cujo that time, even though Marcus had apologized for scaring him.

“Hi, sorry, I was told I could find you here.”

You smiled warmly at him to ease his discomfort.

“What’s up, Will?”

“Uh, Miss. Timmons is looking for you, she needs your help.”

Oh, for fucks sake…

“Let me guess; she screwed up her paperwork, again?”

“Looks like it.”

“Damned it, Izzy. Wait, why’d she send you to get me, you’re not an errand-boy, she couldn’t have picked up the phone?”

“She did go looking for you in your office, but when you weren’t there, she got a little… desperate. She knows that she’s messed up too many times already, and I think she’s genuinely scared that you’re gonna fire her. She started crying outside your office and I was just passing by, so I offered to go find you for her.”

“If I had the authority to fire her, I would’ve already done it.”

You sighed and got up to leave, but Marcus caught your elbow.

“You’re not gonna go back to work, right? We talked about that.”

“If I know Izzy, this won’t be solved by correcting a few clerical errors.”

“So, let someone else do it.”

“No one else can, honey. That’s why I still have my job despite the number of sick-days I have.”

“Preciosa… it’s dangerous. Prince’s people are in this building, and if he was obsessed with you, or us, then so are they. None of us can afford to be distracted right now.”

“I know, but we still have to live. We’re still the same people, and neither one of us are the type of person that’s just gonna stand by when someone needs help. If the team needs you, I expect you to go and help them, not just because that’s your job, but because that’s who you are.”

“Just don’t let yourself get too engrossed. Stay alert at all times. We have no idea who’s a friend and who isn’t.”

“I’ll check in with you every hour, okay?”

“Every half-hour. And just until you’ve sorted this mess out, then you come back and find me, you don’t start on another three problems you discover along the way.”

“Are you giving me orders now, Team Leader?”

He grabbed your hips and pulled you in close, so that your bodies were only millimetres apart and his nose was brushing against yours. It was more than enough to heat you up after six weeks of inactivity, but the tremble of emotion in his voice when he spoke next, pushed the desire aside, to make way for compassion.

“I can’t lose you again. I’ll do anything…”

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his. How many times had you lost each other already? Your ability made it so easy for you to feel like it was your job to save others, like it was what you were put in this world to do, and especially where your family was concerned. So, you had to start reminding yourself that while you would probably always be able to absorb anything bad that happened to them – you’d also always hurt them by doing that. Your ability came with a terrible price, and you were only lucky to have survived everything you’d been through thus far. Marcus was right, you had to be more careful. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nestled your nose into his neck. His arms closed around your waist and held you to him, strong and sure, and you felt like you could just stand there for the rest of the day.

“I promise I’ll be careful, and not take any risks. I love you.”

“Te amo, querida.”

Will had moved to stand outside the door after Marcus started talking to you, but he fell in behind you when you walked past him.

“So, where is she, and what has she done?”

It felt really good to get back into something familiar and achievable again. To do something that generated an immediate response and result, and within fifteen minutes you suddenly understood why Marcus had been so worried. You got lost in the task in no time at all. You sent him a text while you waited for a lawyer to call you back.

[You’re right, I’m already cheating.]

[How bad?]

[Two other issues already solved, while I’m waiting to work out Izzy’s.]

[Why are you waiting?]

[Because lawyers always have something better to do.]

[Fine. But as soon as it’s dealt with, you come back to me. I’ll be at the control centre.]

[Promise. What’s going on?]

[Just two small countries deciding to go to war over the quality of their chocolate.]

[Well… I suppose there are worse things.]

[They’re hurling missiles at each other over fucking candy…]

[Wow… Where’s Máma when you need her?]

[Don’t you worry, she’s right here, so this should be sorted out by the time you get here.]

[Oh, in that case, I am so calling her Chocoreno from now on.]

[Please don’t…]

[Only if she doesn’t solve it.]

[*sigh*]

After another eight phone calls and a lot of grovelling to people you really didn’t like, you finally managed to set things straight, and went to find Izzy to give her a piece of your mind - again. But when you got to her office, she was on the phone and turned away from the door, so she didn’t see you come in, and you accidentally overheard the end of her conversation.

“No, of course not, I’ll be straight home from work. Why would I make any stops? --- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you… --- No, baby, don’t… I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. --- Anything you want, name it. --- Yeah, that sounds.. nice. I’ll be home soon.”

Shit.

She turned around, looking absolutely terrified, and then she saw you by the door and quickly tried to adapt a neutral expression. She was good at it too, within half a second there was no trace of fear in her face. You only got that good at hiding your feelings if you knew that showing them meant terrible pain.

“So, everything’s taken care of, no harm done.”

“Really? Oh, thank you. I’m so sorry, I swear I don’t mean to mess up the papers, it just gets to be too much sometimes.”

“Izzy, if I ask you a personal question, will you answer me honestly?”

A trace of fear re-emerged in her features, but she nodded carefully.

“Is it work that gets to be too much… or is it home?”

You could see the internal struggle. The need to be free of the fear and the pain, and that same fear making it almost impossible. All the irritation and frustration fell away from you with the realisation that she wasn’t incompetent at all. She was being smothered. How many times had you added to her stress and general feeling of inadequacy, by barking at her for constantly missing or screwing up doing things? Why hadn’t you seen the signs sooner, you knew every single one of them?

“I’ve been where you are, Izzy. I should have seen this. I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, honestly, I’m fine.”

“Show me your arms and your stomach. If they aren’t bruised, I might believe you.”

She squirmed where she stood, and her head dropped in defeat.

“When was the last time you didn’t have an injury somewhere? When was the last time you could move without feeling pain somewhere?”

She just kept staring at the floor, shaking her head, trying to will it not to be true, so you walked up to her, pushed your energy around her, and healed her. The amount of energy that it drained from you, told you everything you needed to know about how injured she was, and you quickly reached into your back pocket to retrieve a pill from the small box you kept with you at all times these days. Izzy stared wide-eyed at you, while you fumbled with a paper-cup at her water-cooler, hands shaking with the sudden loss of strength. Then she suddenly sprung to life and came to help you fill the cup and down the pill.

“Jesus Christ, girl, how were you even standing with all that damage?”

“I… got used to it over time. He didn’t… start out that bad.”

“They never do.”

“Thank you. So much.”

“Thank me by letting me beat the living hell out of that guy.”

“You’d better not. But… maybe… you could ask one of the guys on the team to… talk to him?”

“Are you serious? You wanna stay with him? No, honey, no amount of talking is gonna fix him.”

“No, I meant like… talk him into not killing me for leaving him.”

“Oh… Yeah. That I could probably do. Just give me his name and address.”

You downed another pill, and started feeling better, while Izzy scribbled on a note for you. You took it and read it, and stuffed it down your other back pocket.

“You should stay here tonight, just in case he decides to try anything. And call me if you need anything, Marcus and I are still living here, so we’re close, okay?”

She seemed to hesitate about something.

“What is it?”

“Um… do you know Jack Daven?”

“Who?”

“He’s a kid who interns at the science division.”

“Oh, Jackie. Yeah, unfortunately I do know who he is.”

He was the kid you threw head-first into a wall.

“I just… I think he might have something to do with your mole situation.”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“A while back, he came to me saying that science had sent him with some paperwork that needed to be signed, but when I looked at it, I realised that it was actually for research, and I told him that. And he laughed it off saying that he’d just made a mistake, but that didn’t seem very likely, because the forms he had were for release of testing materials. They wouldn’t send an errand-boy to retrieve those, they’re too dangerous. At the time I figured that maybe he’d been sent with an escort, for learning purposes, and that I just never saw them. But, now with the investigation, I think there might have been more to it than that. I was just too scared to... I didn’t know who to trust with it.”

“You can always trust me. Thank you, Izzy, I’m so sorry that I ever thought of you as incompetent.”

“Forgive me and I’ll forgive you.”

“Done.”

You ran full speed back to Ops, and almost collided with the automatic door to the control centre. Marcus was working at a station to the left, and smiled without looking up as he heard you. Anita was at the centre console, with her back to you.

“Damned it, why do all automatic doors move so fucking slowly?”

“Ah, I hear my future daughter-in-law has entered the premises.”

“Shut it, Chocoreno.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Choco-reno, the clue’s in the name, máma.”

“Ay, loco, today’s not a good day to test me.”

“Why, does máma need a hug?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Fine. How about some nice chocolate instead? I hear there might be some steep discounts on a couple of brands.”

“Mujer… did you burst in here for a reason? Because if not, I’ll burst you right back out.”

“Hah, I’d like to see you try.”

She huffed.

“As you wish.”

You caught a glimpse of Marcus’ expression as it shifted from bemused to genuinely worried, when Anita turned and came towards you.

“Mooom…”

She ignored him and tried to grab you, but your ghost hands caught hers before she could make contact, and they were much stronger than your physical hands. She definitely had super-strength, that much was obvious right away, and she wasn’t holding back. You could feel your strength begin to drain, so you changed tactics. You flooded the room with energy, and then drew it back to compact it all around yourself, creating that same kind of barrier that the Inventor hadn’t been able to break through, despite his genius belt-modification. And then you just stood there, perfectly still to conserve energy, while she tried in vain to push you out of the room.

“Mom, stop it, right now!”

As her focus momentarily shifted towards Marcus, you saw the smile that played in her features. She was just having fun, testing your strength and flexing her own, whilst getting some frustration out of her system, knowing full well that you could take it. Feeling certain she wouldn’t kill you for it, you grabbed the opportunity. You let the wall of energy disappear as she was leaning against it with all her might, and as the barrier fell, so did Anita – right into your arms. It was a bit like trying to catch a running bull, and the impact was certainly painful, but you ignored it and just hugged her to you. She scrambled out of your grip, but you just smiled at her, because you knew she enjoyed every moment of it.

“I have to say, I’ve never had to fight my way into a hug before.”

“That wasn’t a hug, loco.”

“Yes, it was, and you know it. Do you feel better now, or do you need another?”

She was actually contemplating another round, which prompted Marcus to step in between you.

“Do I have to remind both of you that you’re pregnant, hermosa? Playful or not, you’re not fighting each other again, now, tell me why you were moving so fast that the doors were too slow for you?”

Oh, for fucks sake, why where you so easily distracted?

“Right… We should probably talk in private. Considering the fact that it’s only been two hours since we sat in your office looking at houses – a hell of a lot’s happened.”

He led the way towards the door, and you shot a look at Anita, over your shoulder.

“Raincheck on that hug?”

“I’ll boogie with you anytime, loco.”

“That’s how you boogie? And you call me ‘loco’.”

“Oh, yes. You’ve earned that one, many times over.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight @farfromjustordinary @allmyspideys @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 3 years

Text

Ghost Wedding: The Remix

So, uh, here’s the first actual fanfic I’ve written, and the first full length piece I’ve written in literal years. I wrote it for my own amusement, after weeks of eating up various bits of TWST lore and scenes and going “But, how would the whole Ghost marriage story have gone with a Yuu who was more like me a goth bisexual disaster?

What follows is a series of vignnetes, starring a Yuu who’s the only girl in NRC, with deeply questionable taste, told in the second person. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, I crave positive feedback and like when other people enjoy the things I like.

Contend warnings for blood, body horror, emeto, coarse language and pretentious word choices.

You've been here a while. En-Arr-See wasn't precisely a safe place, what with your dorm being a condemned hellpit of tetanus and black mold, and powerful magicians having mutagenic psychotic breaks only curable by kicking their ass so hard it flies out their mouth. But certainly, it wasn't boring, and you'd made friends. You had your scrappy ginger Ace in the hole; your serious mamas-boy Deuce; your funny little not-a-cat Grim. Hell, you even have your Horned Boy, he of the poison-coloured eyes that never seem to leave your face when you talk about fun things like books and music and the moral imperative of dissolving the monarchy. And, you were on speaking terms with a good chunk of others. So, when your favourite little robot came up to Crowley, yelling something about ghosts kidnapping his brother, you took his hand and said, "Ortho, show me what's going on." After all, you won't let anything happen to Idia. You have plans for him yet.

~*~*~*~

Some beauties might launch a thousand ships, and in your (objectively correct) opinion, while Idia's beauty wouldn't lead to a ten year siege of Troy, he'd certainly convince everyone attending Whitby Goth Weekend to haul off into the sea with a beat of his lashes. The first time you'd seen him, you'd simply stared in slack-jawed awe. He was luminescent; even leaving behind the fiery hair that flashed and swelled behind him, his eyes were a bright clear amber, and his skin translucent, with his own blue veins serving as the detailing in the marble. Add in the deeply circled eyes and the bluish discolouration of the lips, and the figure he presented was arresting, astounding, more beautiful and unreal than anything you'd conjured up after staying up all night reading ghost stories. "Magnificent," you'd said to yourself, and if your friends gave you a strange look, well, fuck 'em. They have no sense of beauty or taste.

Unfortunately, the intensity of your gaze proved too much for him, and he'd fled. You'd had no time to pursue the object of your infatuation either, class would soon begin, and Grim was yelling. Later, then. There's all the time in the world to ask after the fine young man with the lamplight eyes.

~*~*~*~ "Oh no," you said when Ortho showed you the video. "She's really hot."

Grim gawked and Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you take from this?"

"You're the one with an all-boys school. What's a girl like me to do when a pretty girl pops up?"

"She's a ghost, Yuu."

"That's the best part."

"My brother-"

"I'll help you, dear." You set a hand on Ortho's shoulder. "He must be so frightened, right? I'll do what you need."

Before anyone could say anything else, a racket started up outside, and things got a little busy.

~*~*~*~ "Do you mind if I sit?"

Idia looked up at you. starting at the intrusion. His face was awash in blue from the conjured screens around him, his lips gone black. "...Why?"

"Tables are full. I'd rather not eat standing." He didn't explicitly say no, so you settled across the table, a few chairs down. He made a fascinating tableau as you picked at your lunch, flicking through and typing at the screen. Lines of code, schematics for all sorts of tech, occasional comics all flit across the pane of light in a million shades of blue. Until...

"Could you pretend I'm a bug?"

You squinted. "What." What the actual hell did he mean by that.

"Pretend I'm not here. I'm beneath notice."

You stop for a moment and smile, faint enough that he can't see the devil in it. "You want me to treat you like an insect."

"Yes." Hard to see in the light, there was a small twitch by his temple, a barely perceptible shake in his long fingered hands.

"Alright." With that, you slide down the table to directly across from him, settle you chin in your hands, and stare at him unblinkingly.

"?!?!?" The squawk he made was undignified and deeply, deeply endearing. "What are you doing?"

"You asked me to treat you like an insect." You smile at him, full of mischief and good cheer. "So I'm looking at you very closely. I'm taking in every sweet action, and delighting that the day has conspired to put something so wonderful in front of me."

Oh, who would have thought that this blue boy could turn so pink! As he pulled his hood up, you chuckle and move back to your tray. "I'll let you be," you say, and did indeed, for the amount of time it took him to close up shop and flee back to the depths of Ignihyde. When you waved at him as he went by, he nearly tripped in his haste.

~*~*~*~ "Stop laughing."

The boys did not listen.

"May others show you the kindness you've shown Idia if you're in a bind."

"You're just mad because she's gonna kill your-"

"Grim? Shut the fuck up. Now; who's helping."

After a chorus of 'no's, you drag your fingers through your hair. "I hate all of you so fucking much right now... Ortho, your ideas?"

Ortho's idea was deeply enticing but Crowley would not have the school leveled, and thankfully, the two of them threatened and guilted the others into helping. You'd have to say thank you later, but god, then Crowley might think you actually liked him instead of just finding him funny, and who needed that in their life?

"Alright, so... A plan?"

~*~*~*~ As badly as he might've liked to have escaped, there was only one empty seat in the class, and it was by him. So, Idia threw his hood up, along with his headphones, and started blatantly ignoring you.

"Idia." Silence.

"Idia." A faint grunt and he turned away from you.

"Shroud," you intoned in the most sepulchral tone you could, setting you hand in his field of vision. He whipped his head at you, the fire in his eyes nothing compared to the changing colours on his head.

"WHAT."

You raise your hands in supplication, trying to still your racing heart. "I'm sorry dude. I wanted to ask where you got your screens?"

"My screens?" His eyes flicked back to his schoolwork, hovering in the air. "I made them myself."

Your face lit up in awe. "That's amazing dude, holy shit. How'd you do that? It's a damn miracle."

"Ah... well..." Two sides warred within him - pride that someone recognized his tech genius, and his deep seated anxiety that anyone trying to be nice was just fucking with him. Fortunately for both of you, pride won out. "It's certainly something complicated for a magicless normie like you to understand." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you really want to hear?"

You fixed him with a level look. "Never call me that again. Now, start like I'm five and go from there."

He stared back at you, and you stared right back. "Indulge me, Idia."

He gave you a smile full of sharp, crooked teeth, and while you tried to still the palpitations the sight of them gave you, he started with very basic theory, and went from there.

~*~*~*~ "You are not going to seduce the ghost bride, Yuu."

"Why the hell not?"

"You're a girl?"

"You're kinda plain."

"You're fat."

"She's probably straight?"

You point in turn at Leona, Azul, Vil, and Kalim. "So?, no I'm plenty hot actually, get fucked, and... Okay, That is a good point. But Kal, you have no idea how many straight girls I've managed to kiss."

"I think you'd die, Shrimpie," Floyd said as he flopped heavily over your shoulders, giggling as you attempted to untangle yourself. "And you're short."

"Yeah, but you have no idea how hot I am when I'm actually try- Shut up, Vil - Like, I clean up so good you guys. I even made a suit a couple weeks ago -"

"That's convenient? Weirdly so?"

"I found suiting that wasn't moth eaten and decided to have fun, at least-" You finally escape from the noodly arms of Leech the Wild One. "Let me suit up and show you? I can be so sexy, you guys. Come on."

In answer to the confused silence, you took your keys out of your pocket and chucked them at Deuce's confused face. "Adeuce! Grim! It's on the vanity in my room!"

"But ghosts?"

"Say you're clearing out things so that we won't bother... No, actually just go the balcony way."

"You can't unlock the balcony from the outside without a lockpick, it only locks from the inside."

A moment of silence. "Lilia, what the fuck?"

He shrugged. "I moved everything two inches to the left once to see if you noticed."

"I wasn't imagining things?!?"

This'll take a moment to sort out, and the clock is ticking...

~*~*~*~ You truly liked the woods! Green and quiet. Full of things that crawled and scurried, little friends that squeaked and croaked and hissed. The occasional precious treasure of a small bone or edible mushroom. So, you were quite surprised when you found Idia, miserable, crouched beside a fallen log.

"... Skipping gym?" Going by the uniform, the most likely answer. "Or did you finally realize that outside doesn't always bite?"

He scowled at you, and you stifled a giggle when you realized that yes, he was actually covered in bug bites. "They should replace this with a mall."

"You hate malls. Too many people." You reached out a hand, and pulled him to his feet. Idly, you wondered if he'd let you try and fit your hands around his waist, but thought better of asking.

"Game stores are alright. No one bothers you in one, or in arcades. And." He stopped, as he brushed the dirt from his legs, before continuing in a mumble you only got the gist of.

"Me and Ortho will be your big, scary guard dogs?"

"... Who'll notice me with both of you?"

"Everyone." Because he's the most beautiful person in the room, and they'd be mad not to look. "Because you show up so rarely. It makes it all the more noticeable when you are out, so everyone pays attention." You held out a hand. "I'll take you out the back way so you don't get in trouble."

No dice. He held his hands in close. "I'll just follow."

"Alright. Why'd you go out this far in the woods with no map, anyways?"

"There's no cell service..."

"Clearly, we need to turn your blood into a wi-fi signal, instead of liquid sugar."

He huffed, but he did follow you, and was actually approaching a good mood once you escorted him through the Ramshackle gates.

~*~*~*~ "Hey, what did I miss?" It took entirely too long to get a single lock of hair to to a perfect insouciant flip over your forehead, even with the eternally stylish Sam's help.

"She's slapped everyone who went to propose, and when she does you're paralyzed for 500 years."

"Christ," You say as you adjust a pin on your lapel. "We have to get Idia back, he'll get what? A week before he gets the hand."

"She's so fussy!" yelled Grim. "You have to sing and have a dog and she hates poison flowers."

"Clearly, she has no taste." Honestly,you thought her taste was just fine, what with thinking Idia was the finest of the bunch. He was very princely, if your tastes ran to exquisite corpses with the personality of a neurotic goblin. "Who wouldn't want poison blossoms?" Tie? No tie? Tie? No tie? No tie. And unbutton. Leona wishes he had this chest.

"We know she has no taste because she chose Idia."

You chose to ignore that, and clapped. "Okay, Round Two!"

~*~*~*~ The truest tragedy of this school was that it was all boys. Not that boys were bad by any means, you certainly enjoyed them, but... girls. Tall girls! Short girls! Busty girls! Petite girls! Butch girls! Femme girls! Fat girls! Girls!

So many kinds of girls, and you, in all of your plump and handsome glory, were the only girl in an entire high school. Welcome to hell.

You accepted no gifts that came unvetted. You had friends ward the everloving bajeezus out of your dorm room. Grim was more than happy to test your food and drink for tampering, but it was exhausting. You at least knew that any food you ate at the Mostro Lounge was clear, but that was only because everyone was too damn scared of the eternally hovering Floyd to try anything while there.

So, you eat a lot of vending machine snacks.

You've been standing there for fifteen minutes, trying to figure out the best combo with your limited funds, when someone coughed behind you.

"??? Oh, hey Idia." You stepped aside while he shuffled up to the glass and peered in. "Anything to recommend? I got this." You waved your bill in the air.

He only looked at you a moment before looking back at the machine. "That won't get you much."

"Ah, don't I know it. But it's all I got."

He still wasn't looking directly at you, but a smile started to creep across his face. "Get your bag."

"Wha-" He was already tapping out a beat with the keypad, blue sparks flying from his fingertips, the machine starting to groan and shiver. With a final note, the snack machine gave a final heaving shudder - and every single snack fell to the bottom of the machine.

He was so proud as he smiled at you, reaching down and pulling a single bag of gummies from the spilled mess. "You first."

And, as you stuffed your schoolbag and pockets full of thieved goods, praising his genius, his cleverness, his skills, he just glowed.

~*~*~*~ "I guess you were ahead of the game, Yuu. She hates that no one's dressed up properly. And..."

"And? You raised an eyebrow at Ace.

"You do look stylish. But you need backup."

"Of course. You'll all rescue people while I distract her!”

"But what if she slaps you?"

"You'll step in if that happens. But we have to dress you all up."

"Did you makes spares?"

"No." Tragic, everyone would look so cute in summerweight green wool. "Let's ask Sam, he's got everything."

~*~*~*~ "Okay, Ortho, you see?" You held his back to your chest, and raised your hand in front of his face, palm away from him. As you wiggled your fingers, you could see movement on the back of your hand. "Those are tendons. Those, and the muscles, are what move the bones, make your hands move. If you put your fingers here," you say as you place his fingertips over the moving lines, "you should be able to feel it."

"I do! They go up and down. What's the popping?"

"That's my faulty joints, we'll cover those another day. Now," you flipped your hand over, and moved his fingers to your wrist. "You feel that?"

"That is your pulse! It's not as string as it should be."

"I'm not always in the best of health. So, Ortho. My hand moves by muscles and tendons when I think of it. My blood moves through my body, one beat at a time, and you can feel it. Right?"

"Right."

"You," you say, as you take Ortho's other hand. "Your hand moves by motors and servos, when you think about it. Electricity and magic moves through your body, in beats so fast we can't perceive it, and it's as measurable as my pulse."

"... Because I am a robot."

"Because you are a bit different. But we're both alive, we're both real, just in different ways." You turn to look at Ortho directly, and he looks back at you with yellow eyes that are actual, real lamps. "Don't let anyone ever say you're not real, or alive, or good enough, just because you're different."

And though you can't see it, you can feel Idia smiling from the corner of his room.

~*~*~*~ Alright. No more time for memories, only the here and now. You've got a heart full of love, a pocket full of ring, and a head full of stupid. You're as prepared as anyone else who went in. Start on your left foot, and...

"Hello? Excuse me?" You make a cursory knock at the doorframe before stepping in. "I heard there was a wedding."

The bride - Eliza - whirled on you, and stopped. She was even more of a vision in person, airy translucence and fine, sweet features currently arranged in confusion. "Ah- Yes! I'm getting married to my darling Prince Idia! Right away, so-"

Not if I have my way about it, you thought to yourself as you arranged yourself in a perfect bow, one hand behind your back. You pretended not to notice Idia trussed up with rope, but you filed the sight away for later. "How wonderful. I wish you only happiness. But it must wait."

Before she could get her hand ready, you straightened and fixed her with your best smile. "My dearest princess, I cannot let this happen until I dance with the most beautiful person in this room. It would be improper to do so with a newlywed, and I cannot know peace until I dance. Would you be so kind, my fair princess?"

She was still baffled. "Aren't you a girl?"

You keyed up the brightness. "I am, and I dance very well. Would you indulge me, my dear?"

You could see her considering it. "You... are rather princely. Can you lead?"

"Of course. May I?" Again with the bow, and to your delight, she returned with a flawless curtsy. Hand in hand, you began.

~*~*~*~ It was delightful, to dance with this silly ghost girl. Everywhere your bodies touched, from her hand in yours to what would have been a fine chest, but was instead a clean and elegant ribcage festooned with pearls, heat seeped away and left only a chill as cold as clay. Her footwork was flawless, considering she no longer had feet, and she was so easy to chat with. She asked you about your dog (none currently, but you'd love to have one, and there was Grim in the meantime), your singing, (little voice to speak of, but that was what vocal coaches were for), and why you wanted to dance with her (because when would the chance ever come again? Unless fairest Eliza considered her for forever and a day.)

"But what of dear Idia?" She'd almost looked towards where Idia no longer was, having been unknotted long ago, but you drew her back in before she could notice the chaos around her.

" 'Dear Idia', though as beautiful as the moon in the sky, has cold feet, my love. He's afraid of dying. But I? I'd cherish you for all of eternity." You leaned in closer. "I am not afraid of dying, beloved. To journey with you through realms beyond mortal reach. I can think of nothing more exciting than to cross the barrier to the other side, hand in hand with you. In the words of a fine sir from my home, 'to die by your side/the pleasure, the privilege is mine'. Please, please consider me, please..."

Here's how it should have gone: She said yes, and you put the ring on her finger, and all was well. But you'd awakened such a sweet hunger in her, she could not wait for propriety. Instead, she grasped your face and kissed you with the passion of five hundred years search, found.

~*~*~*~ It was so pleasant at first, that you couldn't help but return it. When had anyone ever kissed you with such passion? But quickly, the chill began to overtake you. It could have been bearable, but after that was pain. You started to shake, uncontrollably, as every nerve in your body was scraped away with a rusty blade, and as you weakly tried to push away, as blood began to flow from your eyes, your mouth, every pore and orifice, she still would not let go. All you could think was it hurts it hurts it hurts hurts hurts hurts hurts and, as you slipped to a grey place beyond where pain could touch you, you barely noticed the cacophony around you, or something hurtling towards the two of you from the corner of your eye.

Something blue.

~*~*~*~ When you finally woke up, through a drugged and painful haze, you couldn't tell where you were. When you jolted up, the pain of it sending you into a nauseated fit of blood-flecked coughing, a familiar yelp sounded, and you turned to see Idia, little the worse for wear.

"You're up, uh..." He fumbled something onto the table, behind his back. "I."

You just looked. At him, at the surroundings. A hospital bed, with gifts and flowers (most filched from the wedding venue, but someone had stuck Jade's poison blossom into a vase and set it in the far corner). Idia was the only one present, seeing as it was the middle of the night.

"Ortho's getting things you might need. I... I hate hospital scenes..."

"Hurt's over.” You tried to settle yourself more comfortably, failing miserably. “Here comes the comfort." You reached out a hand, as he looked anywhere in the room but you.

"Idia." Silence.

"Idia." More silence.

"Shroud." He hesitantly placed his hand in yours, tinting pink as you pulled the sleeve up. The sight of it made you gasp. His fine wrist, so small even you could put your fingers around it, was mottled with deep bruising, blacks and purples set so deep into the skin that there was crusted blood on the surface, despite being unbroken. It was so, deeply, incredibly...

Beautiful. It was all you could do, not to press your lips to his wrist and taste his pulse as it flitted under his skin. To clean the blood away with your own tongue and cover the marks that your hungry ghost princess had made with your own teeth. Not hers. Yours.

Really, no wonder you'd been so enchanted with Eliza. You're cut of the same cloth.

"It must hurt."

He jerked his hand away, making you both wince. "What the hell is wrong with you? They only reason you're not dead is everyone pouring so much healing magic into you that it exhausted almost everyone. I." You could see flickers and flashes of orange sparking along the full length of his hair. "I'm not worth dying for. Why?"

What do you tell him? That it was the right thing to do? That you wanted to prove that you could woo a pretty girl? That you didn't want him dead? That you were a possessive bitch that couldn't stand the idea of someone else having him, even if unwilling on his part? All were true, but what do you say?

It proved a moot point, as when you opened your mouth to say something, anything, something shifted within you, and the only thing Idia received was a gout of blood square in his face.

~*~*~*~ After you'd slept, you reached for your phone in the thin morning light. Your friends where texting well wishes and condolences, and explanations of what happened after you went down (It seemed Idia had tackled Eliza clean off of you, and after some chaos she ran off with her retainer, rending this entire day moot). Even more interestingly, you found a text from an unknown number:

- I'm still mad at you.

You huffed to yourself, and after a bit of thought, start to text back.

- Dude I'm so sorry about the uh. blood puke. - I'll pay for cleaning - Also you know, you could have just asked for my number a long time ago? - Like a normal person? - Who doesn't break into phones to steal said numbers while I was unconscious next to you, what the fuck dude - That's not what this is about though. - You've got every right to be mad - That whole day was traumatizing, and you didn't deserve any of it - I'd rather sort this out in person but if text is easier for you right now we can do that - One last thing though

You stopped, and thought Do I actually do this? and went what the hell.

- I still need that dance I went in to get from you

#twisted wonderland #twst fic #twisted wonderland fanfiction #ghost wedding #my writing

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spartanxhunterx · 4 years

Text

So late the party has left.

Ok, I've had this submission from @starmage2 for ever and just got around to it now.

As a heads up I've changed the 'Alien invasion ' to Gorilla Grodd invasion instead. Same general thing though.

Paris was not a place the flash visited often or even with purpose. A city of calm and peace that was unaffected by the world's crazies, maniacs and supervillians. There has never been a reason to be in Paris, for anyone from the league. Aside from maybe taking a superspeed shortcut or flying well above the city to make time to ones real destination.

But now Flash, or Barry Allen to those close to him, feared that the millennia long peace was going to be broken. News had spread that Gorilla Grodd, One of Flash's Rivals, had snuck his way to Paris, France, with plans to use De-evolution devices to regress the human population for his own uses.

That was Not something the justice league was going to ignore, it would be like ignoring an upstart villain or a call for aid. Such things were not taken lightly.

he had long since past Paris' border and was making his way to the Eiffel tower, Where the rest of the Justice league members that were joining him would be meeting up with him. It was considered the most neutral and hidden spot in Paris after dark.

Still, he indulged himself by taking the long scenic route, confident that he would beat everyone there. Except for maybe superman but who cares about that?

So it was a huge surprise, when passing the Louvre, that a large portal opened in front of him and before he could redirect himself he was already through to the other side, his feet skid against the oiled floor as he tumbled into a pre-placed net. The trap triggered and the next thing he knew he was tied up and dangling a foot off the floor.

Ignoring the oncoming footsteps he tried twisting his limbs, if he could move just the slightest amount he could friction burn the ropes around him to free him. It wasn't until he felt something pointy touch his chest and a hand guide his chin that he looked at the perpetrators. There were three, one female, two males.

one guy looked like he was dressed up as a monkey with a Bo Staff, the girl like a bee and the other guy... Well he wasn't sure up he was going to guess a horse due to the horseshoe they had.

"Watch it speedy." The girl talked, a hint of smug laced in her voice. "Try to vibrate your way out of that and I'll stick you to the spot."

" do you have any idea who I am? What kind of trouble you'll be in for doing this? " Cause he knew the rest of the team would be suspicious if he wasn't at least the second person there, these three were playing a dangerous game and he wasn't in the mood to deal with more wannabe villains.

"The Flash," the horse? Started , gesturing to his tied up self. "Fastest man alive, scarlet speedster, defender of Central City. And if my suspicions are correct, Barry Allen. "

flash sputtered slightly, voice cracking with his next words. "W-What, No!"

" Ha! Instant denial! " The monkey exclaimed as he pointed to him before clapping the other guy on the shoulder. " You got it right on the head Pegasus."

OK, Pegasus, one name down. "So, you the ring leader here?" He turned to him and Barry realised he couldn't make out his expression due to his dark glasses, who wears sunglasses at night?

"No. I'm more of the... Tactical analysis type. Information provider and long term planner." He pointed to the other two. " My cohorts here are Abeille and roi singe. "

"The more important thing here, is why is the justice league here in Paris when you've been banned from entering."

" What! When did this happen!? "

"Six years ago."

Flash stared dumbfounded at the three, all attempts to escape forgotten. The JL was banned from Paris? And had been for six years? "Why?"

" Oh please. " Abeille scoffed as she picked up her discarded coffee drink, taking a slow sip to force tension to grow. "Don't act like you don't know why, you're fully aware and if not?... Ask Green lantern."

Roi singe's Bo Staff let out a chime and he slid open the panel to reveal the communicator. "Anything on your end yet?" The voice on the other end was feminine, the three Parisian heroes easily recognized Ladybugs voice.

" Yeah actually, managed to bag the Flash, trap worked like a Charm. "

"The Flash? Interesting. See what he knows, we've got reports of odd noises coming from an old abandoned warehouse. Me, Viper And Ry are gonna check it out, Chats on the way to you and so are some local Officers, let them deal with the Flash. "

"So, what are you doing here Speedy wonder?" Pegasus smacked Roi on the chest before turning his critical gaze to the tied up hero.

"What he means is, why are you hear and who else should we expect, I doubt you came to Paris for a holiday. You shouldn't have been caught by this trap, you react too fast, you were occupied with something."

" The JL had received reports that Grodd, Gorilla Grodd, has made his way to Paris. Nothing good had ever come from him being anywhere near humans so we sent a team to deal with it before too much damage can arise. "

The three of them looked at each other skeptically, since when did the JL care about collateral damage?

"Ok, meet up point, now."

" You think I'm gonna tell that to a bunch of upstart villains? "

There was a moment of silence before the three of them burst out laughing, Roi had to prop himself up by his staff while Abeille almost doubled over. When she was done she splashed the remains of her, now cold, coffee over the heroes face.

"Villains? Really?" She sneared pulling the heroes face closer to hers. "We are the heroes of Paris, Defenders of France, part of the Miracle team. If you ever get the chance, ask Diana what a Miraculous is... And she will know, any statement to the contradictory is a lie."

"Now, meet up location?"

" Eiffel tower. "

" Who will be there? "

"Batman, Superman, Wonder woman, Green lantern And Robin."

"Good. Officer Cuff him and give him a cell." Unknown to The Flash several officers had arrived, they quickly slapped on some anti-meta handcuffs before removing him from the net , shoving the 'hero ' into the police car before driving away.

"Chat's on his way to the tower, let's give him some back up."

It was twenty minutes later, the use of two vemons, one uproar and the combined might of Pegasus, Abeille, Roi singe, Chat Noir and Carapace to subdue the heroes who had been waiting for the Flash.

Not that the flight was difficult, not while Green lanterns ring was on the Fritz and couldn't form a single thing, Superman was Frozen in place, Along with Robin, Batman was being held in a restraint by Carapace and Diana had been given a fright by being teleported way above them for a few moments before she and Green lantern were tied up in Abeille's Wire.

it was a good thing the team was well within their mid twenties, had they been teens their miraculous would have run out by now. Instead they could cast their powers as much as they wished while only gaining some exhaustion if they went too far. Without the fear of de-transforming.

"Well... That was easy." Roi Singe leaned against the frozen Form of Robin, not bothered by the fact that the violent vigilant was frozen mid-strike.

"I don't think..." Carapace grunted as he tightened his grip to Batmans arms , keeping a hold above his elbows so he could keep the man's arms behind his back. "Getting the drop on unsuspecting people AND freezing their power player," his head jutted to superman, where Chat Noir was happily sitting on his shoulders as he played with his tool. "Can be considered a fight, more like a slaughter really. "

"I agree." Abeille nodded as she tugged her two captives closer to her, without missing a beat she sat on the Amazonian's back before propping her feet up on Green lanterns head. "So, greenie, recognise us?"

"Should I?" He tried to move his head from under the bee hero's foot but was quickly met with the heel of said foot impacting the back of his head. "Hey, what was that for!?"

" You really don't recognise me Hal Jordan? " Chat Noir growled out as he leaped off supermans shoulders before lifting the other others face with his baton.

Said hero stiffened at his name and the Cat Hero took it as his cue to continue. "The justice League receive, over a period of three years, a large amount of calls for aid from France, Paris specifically."

Both Batman and Wonder woman ceased their resistance as they heard this, why was this the first time they were hearing it?

"From two, young, barely teen, kids. Who had far too much responsibility thrusted onto them, who had to fight a maniac who mind controlled and powered up people who were experiencing negative emotion. "

"He targeted kids... A lot."

" What? " Despite their age and experience many of those present flinched at the harshness in Batmans voice, Pegasus turned to him, emotion hidden behind his darkened glasses.

"The butterfly Miraculous of Transmission is able to find people who experience strong emotion, be they negative or positive and empower them based on the current circumstances, like say... "

He paused as he tried to find a viable scenario to use.

"Ok, if you say someone falling from a tall tower and you really wanted to save them, a butterfly weilder could empower you and give you flight, either by giving you wings or... Making you like him." He pointed to superman.

"Hawkmoth, however, would wait until you had negative emotions, being dumped, bullied, fired so on and so forth normally caused these things and he would make it possible to get revenge, with the exception being that they HAD to get Ladybug And Chat Noirs miraculous to pay off the 'debt' they were in. "

"They never remembered the things they did, fortunately, can't say the same for those who died and came back to life though."

Those present Blinked, Batmans mouth opened and closed for a moment before his steely gaze landed on Hal.

"Paris once Flooded, an estimated 87% of Paris drowned that day... The other 13% wasn't purely kids."

"Hal."

" I didn't know ok! " Hal was recoiling from the glare that Batman was sending his way. "I thought it was a prank, ok! I didn't think it was real, how can you take two kids who dress up as a Ladybug And a Cat seriously?"

"You should have investigated, met up with them and assessed the situation First, not assumed."

" I know. " Hal's head hit the floor beneath him with a sigh. The Paris hero's looked at him like he was worth less then the dirt under their boots.

"If you help us tonight, we'll help you afterwards." The looks returned to Batman where after a moment a few of them scoffed.

"Hawkmoth's in jail dude." Carapace shook the vigilante's arms. "Has been for... Four years now, we've already reclaimed the lost Miraculi and the book, now we just deal with petty crime and... Well, your mess, it seems."

"Stick to punching Gotham's nutbags, we'll deal with Paris." No one objected to Chat's words, though Batman defiantly seemed to slump at them.

The cat hero shook his head at the older hero before his baton rang, his flipped it open and a moment afterwards Ladybugs voice came through, the Paris hero's were able to pick up on the urgency in her voice.

"Chat, I need you, Roi, Bee, Pegasus and Rena here now."

" on it, " He looked up as he closed his baton. "You heard her, let's go, Pegasus, get Rena, Carapace, keep an eye on these lot."

" got it dude. " He let go of Batmans arms as Abeille released both wonder woman and Green lantern from their bindings. Simultaneously both superman and Robin were released from the effects of venom as it was released. The other Paris heroes leapt away.

"So... Carapace right?" Diana extended her hand out to the turtle hero, who had leant against the railings with his arms crossed.

"I know who you are, and Tikki is not happy with you right now." She flinched at that. "For twelve years you ignored us, four years after we beat Hawkmoth do you finally show up and it's to deal with one of your own. I think I speak for all of Paris when I say, We don't want you here. "

"Since when do you have the authority to do that?" Both Robin and Carapace had a small stare off before Carapace rolled his eyes .

"Since France voted to ban all Non-miraculous heroes, which includes the justice League. You didn't care before, why care now?"

" is there anything that can be done? "

Carapace shook his head at superman. "You are far too late on that dude, there's being late to a party then there's turning up after the hosts have cleaned up. "

"You guys turned up for the party days after it was over, so save some face, wait for them to come back, get the Flash then leave. "

"The Flash is here?"

" Dudes spending his time in a cell tonight. "

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #ml x dc #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Carapace #rena rouge #Viperion #ryuko #Pegasus #roi singe #Batman #Robin #wonder woman #Superman #The Flash #Green Lantern #Justice league salt #gorilla grodd

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jotarosbelt · 4 years

Note

Can you do a pt2 for the “she doesn’t need to know” writing? I wonder what would happen if they got caught 😳😳I can’t stop thinking abt it your writings so good!!

HI @shitty-lollipops !! THANK U SM FOR THIS REQUEST YOU’RE A GOD

cw: choking, dirty talk, creampie

18+ content ahead!

part 1

She Didn’t Need To Know— But, Now She Does. [Jotaro Kujo]

It hadn't necessarily been awkward after the affair between you and Jotaro, no. In fact, ever since that one faithful night, you've felt more sexually satisfied than you had in ages.

Sure, it wasn't morally correct to be screwing your friend's dad ever chance you got, but it sure as hell was worth it. You could see why some of your friends from university constantly talked about how older men were better.

Hell, if you knew they could look like this and dick you down this well, you might've signed up sooner.

You noticeably started going to Jolyne's house more. Not that it bothered her— as a matter of fact, she was ecstatic. She got to see her best friend more often, and it seemed as though her stick-in-the-mud father was coming around to you, too!

Not for the reasons she hoped, though.

"Ahhhh, finals are almost over, babes! I can't wait to get out of this place for the summer and go somewhere with you and Ermes!"

The girl draped herself over your back, locking her arms around your upper body by clutching her wrist with opposite hand. "It's gonna be so much fun! Maybe we can get my dad to fly us out to Italy or something."

You couldn't help but grin, turning your neck and head slightly to face her as you spoke though your eyes never left your computer screen.

"Yeah? I'm down to go to Italy. I'm sure Mr. Kujo wouldn't mind paying for the trip."

You couldn't help but stick your tongue out as you retorted, the black and green haired girl rolling her eyes at the childish gesture.

"You're terrible," she scoffs as she released you from her grip and falls back onto her bed. You finish your sentence on the paper you were typing and turn in your chair, arm resting on the top of it as you grin.

"I'm terrible for going along with your plan to sucker your dad out of some money to go on a girls trip to another country? Alright, then."

You turn back around in your seat, stretching out your fingers before placing them back on the home keys of your keyboard.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, love," you began, the smile dawning your face audible in your voice. "Just know I'm a better person that you."

———

"Hah~ oh fuck--"

You could only rasp out broken phrases and garbled moans as the older male plowed into you, skin slapping against skin feverishly. It was disgusting. You were fucking Jotaro Kujo in his goddamn bathroom, only a few feet away from his daughter and best friend.

You had gotten a text from him while you were laying on Jolyne’s blue covers, doing nothing in particular. You reached over to check your phone, swiping up to unlock it and read the text.

‘Need to blow off steam. Meet me in the bathroom near Jolyne’s room.’

You quickly locked it again and dropped it beside you.

“Who was that?”

You sat up, craning your neck to turn to look at Jolyne. “Oh, it was just someone asking for answers. Nothing important.”

You pushed yourself off of the bed with your hands, stretching your arms above your head and lowering them to pull down your shorts. “I’ll be back. Going to the bathroom.”

She shot you a thumbs-up and you left the room.

You went down the hall, the Kujo home now like your second since you’ve been here more times than you could count. You navigated through the house (all though it wasn’t even that far), and opened the door.

You were pulled in by your wrist and pinned up against the wall, the only sounds in the room being your heavy breathing and the click of the door locking.

“S-Someone’s needy.”

He only grunted, gripping your chin to turn your head back to kiss you.

It was never lost on you that he was a good kisser— no matter how many times you did this, it would never not blow your mind.

His tongue grazed the roof of your mouth and his hips ground into your backside. His semi-hard member seemed like it was rubbing you in all the right places. You could whimpered as he bit your lip.

“Just know I'm a better person that you."

The words you had said just last week rung in your head. It was ironic, really. You said you were a better person than her, meanwhile you were boning her dad and she just wanted to finesse him out of some cash.

Funny.

And yet, you couldn't find it in you at that moment to feel guilty. Or at least guilty enough that you'd make him let go of the bruising grip he had on your hair and waist.

Or give up the feeling of his thick cock dragging against your walls, either.

"Shit, you're still. So. Tight.”

Each pause was punctuated with a thrust of his hips, each one more punishing than the last. It was a miracle Jolyne didn't hear this or care enough about the noise to come investigate— no matter how many times you did this.

And it was a lot more than you would like to admit.

"I can feel you clenching,” Jotaro said, his tone unnervingly even for someone exerting as much effort as he was. “Are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum all over my cock while Jolyne is just a few feet away? Huh?"

You could only whimper in response; he wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you up into his chest.

"Answer me, slut. Do you like the idea of being caught with your best friend's dad's dick stuffed in your pussy? Or am I imagining that you're more fucked up than you actually are?"

Out of fear of what might happen if you didn't obey, you choked out a reply.

"I love it, fuck-- I'm gonna cum, please--"

The chuckle that reverberated in your ear was just as sexy as it was dark.

"Then, shut up and do it."

You couldn't even hold back your orgasm if you tried; it washed over you like a typhoon. You shook against the his built torso, knees buckling as your nerves burned. Your breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened around it and his short hair tickled your shoulder as Jotaro's hips sped up inside you, prolonging your finish to the point of over-stimulation.

How quickly he could make you cum and how hard every orgasm was made you embarrassed.

He was silent as he used you to get off, the only noise escaping him being the low grunt he made as he came, hips twitching against your ass. You sighed as you felt him pull out, his thick cum already leaking out of you and down your thighs.

"I can't believe we just did that."

The whistle of the water pouring out of the sink faucet filled the room as the man lifted a thick eyebrow, not bothering to turn back to look at you. You watched his movements through the mirror.

"You act like this is the first or last time we've done something like this. Grow some backbone, would you? The 'after-sex shy' bullshit is getting old."

His straightforward and brash words no longer bothered you. You scoffed, still monitoring him through the reflective surface as he moved to grab a washcloth. He put it under the running stream of water.

"So, you're telling me that the prospect of your daughter catching you laying pipe on her bestie doesn't bother you in the slightest?”

Bored and tired eyes met yours.

"That's the dumbest thing I've heard you say, and I’ve heard a lot from you these past few months."

You grimace and fold your arms over your clothed chest, ignoring the fact that you were bare from the waist down and Jotaro probably still had his dick out as he spoke.

"You didn't answer me."

You watched his brows furrow and he averted his gaze from you back down to the cloth in the sink.

The squish of the water as he rung it out sounded louder than it should have.

"Of course it bothers me," he started, turning around face you. "What we're doing isn't exactly okay."

"You think I don't know that? I feel awful!"

You maneuvered to sit down on the counter as you spread your legs to let Jotaro stand in between them, wiping your thighs clean of his semen and your juices. You should’ve been embarrassed that he was practically getting an eyeful of your cunt, but at the end of the day, you two had seen each other more than you should’ve. He didn't bother to look up at you as he spoke next.

"So, then, why don't we stop?"

You froze for a second, feeling your brows lift up out of shock. "I—“ You bit your lip. “We both know why neither of us are going to do that, Jotaro."

He sidestepped to rinse out the cloth again, wringing it out as he lifted his head to look at you. "Because we're both addicted and pieces of shit for getting off on the age cap?"

You dryly laughed.

"Ding, ding, motherfucking ding. We’re freaks."

You almost missed the way his lips quirked up at that.

He casually wiped down his cock with the cloth, wringing it once more when he was done and tossing it into the hamper. He tucked himself back into his sweatpants, straightened out his t-shirt, and turned to you.

"Where are your panties and shorts?"

You hopped down from the counter and scanned the floor, finding them crumpled up in the corner. You walked over and reached down, picking them up and pulling on each item one by one.

"You good?"

You nod. "Yeah. I should get back to Jo. I've been missing longer than it should take one to take a piss."

He only grunted in response and stepped back to let you open the door.

You opened up the door, ready to snake your way back into Jolyne’s room and act like nothing happened, but that plan came to a full stop as you opened the door to see Jolyne standing outside about to knock.

Her hand lingered in the air where she was about tap, eyes bouncing back in shock between you and her dad. She sighed and let out a bitter laugh.

“I had a feeling. I should’ve checked earlier. Those noises didn’t necessarily sound like somebody taking a shit.”

"Jolyne--"

She held up her hand to stop you and your jaw snapped shut.

“I'm going out for a walk."

She approached the staircase she was already lingering by, her hand gripping the railing as she leaned into the stairwell slightly. It took a moment that felt like eons for her to turn back and slightly narrow her eyes at you.

And yet, you felt little to no malice being directed towards you and more at her father who's surprised expression faded long ago.

"And you best be ready to explain why you two have been fucking like rabbits when I get back."

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #stone ocean #Jotaro Kujo #jotaro part 6 #jolyne cujoh #not sfw

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elldell1204 · 4 years

Text

Nightmare - Upstead Fic

This is my first Upstead fic, so I really hope you like it as I am so proud of it 😊 It’s starts towards the end of 7x09 and is an alternative, more tense ending to the actual episode/storyline, in my opinion. Enjoy!

wc - 3,688

“Angela.” It was almost a whisper, that’s how dry his throat was and how weak he had grown over the last twenty-four hours of almost constant beatdowns. Not only did Jay have to deal with the physical torture, but the mental one too. Every moment that led up to where he was right now was being replayed in his head, seeing as he has nothing more to do. Being the type of guy who always tries to find a way to improve himself in every way possible, he’s picking apart each second, imagining the hundreds of different ways things could have gone differently if he had just let the call go to voicemail, told his partner where he was going, gone in with backup, heard the guy’s footsteps behind him, fought him off. Hell, he was even going back as far as to question his quick decision of Marcus West being the one responsible for the murder of two young boys. He sees now though that he was getting too involved, being too emotional, trying his absolute best not to slip into the cold, heartless shell of a man that returned from Afghanistan all those years ago to the point where he went too far and got an innocent man killed.

“Angela.” He tried again, prying the eye open that wasn’t glued shut with dried blood from the gash on his forehead. “Kick one of those pipes over to me.”

The woman that sat slumped against the pipes across from him raised her head. But she didn’t meet his eyes. How could she after what he had just revealed to her? The man before her had murdered her husband, in her mind. And even though her only chance at survival was to work with him, she had absolutely no desire in her heart to do so. He deserved to die, and if that meant that she would too, then so be it. But every time her thoughts ventured there, she reminded herself of her son. He already lost his father, so he needed his mother more than ever.

“C’mon, Angela.” He had managed to free his left hand by now, the ropes that once bound him hanging loose from his wrist as he gestured towards the objects in question. “We gotta work together if we’re gonna get outta here, so you have to kick one over, c’mon, please. It’s the only way.”

It was then she lifted her eyes to his. The dark chestnut pools had lost all life and purpose and were emotionally empty, barring the harsh disgust that was boring holes straight through to Jay’s soul, so deep he could sense it bubbling inside him, the feeling so undeniably familiar, being that he felt it towards himself the night he discovered his mistake, unable to correct it as it was too late.

***

Unbeknownst to Jay, his beloved unit was rallying outside the very building he was being held prisoner in, ready to take down an army if it meant they’d save him.

Voight was dishing out orders to each of them, but Hailey wasn’t listening, not really. She knew she’d do anything to get to Jay, even if it meant going against the boss’ orders or putting her own life in danger. Thoughts of how she could be so stupid to let him go without backup or to get her hopes up that he’d be in the van for the exchange kept swirling around in her brain. But she had to be totally focused on the now. The next few minutes could land anywhere on the spectrum between the most ideal scenario of finding him perfectly okay and finding him in a lifeless heap on the floor. She had to be alert and ready for anything.

That’s why she didn’t hesitate when Kevin hoisted her up to crawl through the vent in the wall.

***

It was now or never. The weaker of their two captors had come down the stairs a few seconds ago, armed with a water bottle and a fresh dressing for Angela’s wound. Now he was knelt down beside her, applying it whilst trying to keep down whatever he had for lunch. It was pretty much useless. She needed a miracle after the amount of blood she had already lost, and still it kept gushing out, even though Jay was pretty sure she didn’t have a much left.

“There you go.” The man announced, getting to his feet but staying crouched.

“Can I have some water?” Jay piped up, adrenaline starting to seep into his blood at the mere thought of the feat he was going to have to pull off.

The man simply looked over his shoulder at the battered and bruised body behind him, showing no objection nor acceptance.

“Please, man.” Jay begged now, his voice breathier to play the part.

The man’s gaze returned and stayed on Angela as he grabbed the water bottle, stepping backwards towards Jay when the harsh ringing of the metal pipe echoed throughout the murky basement as it collided with his head.

After he dropped to the floor, Jay checked he was out cold before sliding the rope, tied to his right wrist, off the pipe. He attempted to get to his feet, but he felt the room spin and decided on crawling until his blood pressure went back up. He once again checked the man was unconscious along with casting a glance over to the stairs to make sure the other guy wasn’t on his was to beat the crap out of him. Satisfied with the answer to both, he searched his victim’s pockets for a weapon of any kind. He found a switchblade, and although he would have preferred a gun, it would have to do. He then grabbed the pipe before crossing the short distance to Angela, kneeling down beside her.

“You did good.” He said, a little out of breath, as he used to knife to cut through the ropes that tethered her to the pipes like he was. The only acknowledgement he got was a helpless whimper and a sad little nod.

“Okay, stay here,” he gave the pipe to Angela, then laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m going after the other one.”

And he was up. As stealthily as he could, he climbed the stairs, attempting to stay flat to the wall and out of sight. He could hear the words flowing from the other guy’s mouth, anger lacing each one, along with heavy footsteps reverberating across the floor above him. Then after a deep breath, he emerged, sprinting towards the guy who had his back turned. That was until Jay was about three feet away, when he promptly turned and fought back, blocking the slashes of Jay’s hand with his forearm and landing a punch to Jay’s gut with his other hand. It didn’t stop Jay though, he swung and he swung, and he knew, he knew that he’d have this guy by now if he wasn’t so goddamn weak and in pain.

The guy managed to forcefully shove Jay away from him, long enough to raise his revolver and fire a shot off. A lucky shot. One that ripped through the flesh of Jay’s shoulder like it was paper.

And he screamed.

A guttural scream that resonated from somewhere deep inside of him as the pain ripped through him. He staggered backwards, clutching at his wound whilst the agony set in.

And he was so goddamn close to getting out of there.

“Jay!”

He heard it. And though it was fairly far away, he couldn’t mistake that voice for anyone else’s.

Hailey.

Oh, how he cursed himself for not telling her how he felt before. He knew how unreliable tomorrow is, he’d experienced it first-hand with too many people, yet still he had assumed it was going to come around. Now all he had left to ease the pain of his stupidity was to convince himself that she would be better off without him. She deserves so much better than him. He was a murderer, essentially. And we’re not talking the bad guys, here. Marcus West had been on his conscious since the day he died, and despite the numerous assurances from multiple people that it wasn’t his fault that he died, he knew in his heart that at least some part of it was. He reverted his mind back to Hailey as he waited for the second and fatal shot to come his way. After all, if he was going to go out, he knew it would be a lot more peaceful if his thoughts were filled with bright blonde hair, bright blue eyes that remined him of the sky on the most perfect of sunny days and the infectious smile that could make him feel whole when he caused it.

***

She heard the gunshot. She’d heard hundreds before, but this one, the one that was most likely the difference between life and death for her partner, was the loudest. So loud it made her heart stop and legs go weak at the same time. It felt as if the walls were suffocating her, coaxing her into an unconscious state where nothing was real. Not like a dream, but less of a nightmare than the one she was living in now.

But she clutched onto reality, staying awake and hauling herself back into the moment.

“Jay!” She screamed as powerful as she could, her legs finding the strength to sprint in the direction of the gunshot. It was her only way of telling him that she was there and begging him to hold on, for her.

She needs him alive. She needs him to have her back, in every aspect of life. She needs him to make her smile when everything else seems dreary.

She needs him.

***

“C’mon, pretty boy.”

Jay was only partially conscious as he was half dragged, half stumbling up the steps to the roof. He had no idea what this guy was doing. Why didn’t he just finish him off when he had the chance?

They practically burst through the door and onto the roof, the guy shoving Jay so that he fell to his knees in from of him. He groaned, but still managed to get to his feet, albeit achingly slowly. Turning to face his captor, he was met with the barrel of a gun.

“Who are you?” The man seethed. “You told us your name was Jim, but that girl shouted Jay.”

Jay didn’t say a word. He just maintained eye contact with his one good eye.

“And the way you fought me...I have to give it to you; you were pretty damn good.” The man chuckled sadistically before stopping abruptly. “Which makes it very likely that you’re a cop.”

Jay’s eyes must have flickered, because the man soon cocked the revolver, taking a step forward and urging Jay to take a step back.

“Fuck.” The man grimaced. “I knew it.”

“You’re done, man.” Jay said, seeing his chance to negotiate. “It’s over, you can’t win. So either shoot me and get charged with the murder of a police officer, or let me go. You can escape, if you’re quick, and no one will even know you were here. I’ll tell them your buddy was the only guy and he was the one who shot me.”

He genuinely seemed to consider it, only for a second, before a rage burned in his eyes stronger than Jay had ever witnessed before.

“Why can’t I have both things that I want? You, dead, and escape.” He inched further forward, the barbaric smile returning, and Jay stepped further back. “As far as I know, you fell off the roof trying to let your cop buddies know you were up here.”

That’s when Jay realised how close to the edge he was, and a lump grew in his throat.

***

“Where the hell is he?” Hailey shouted, slamming her hands down on the table beside her. The rest of the unit, which had recently regrouped after sweeping the warehouse, flinched at the loud bang but understood her frustration as they felt it themselves. Hailey found the spot where the gunshot had happened; the blood splatter on the wall tipped her off. The first place she looked was down the stairs, but she had only found Angela, slouched against the wall, and one of the captors, laid out unconscious. But no gun, and no Jay.

“There’s only two exits, and Kim and Rojas have them covered. Let’s do another sweep of the warehouse, they can’t have just disappeared.” Voight ordered, and they all dispersed, except Hailey, who still had both hands firmly planted on the table as she breathed deeply, grasping onto the little composure she had left.

That’s when she realised there were more than two exits. There was one leading onto the roof.

She sprinted off towards the stairs that she’d memorised from the blueprints and climbed them faster than she thought humanly possible. When she reached the roof, she couldn’t help but to throw open the door, her gun raised ready to fire. And as she stepped out onto the roof, she took a split second to thank her past self for taking an extra few minutes to look over the blueprints one last time.

***

Both men heard the door open, only Jay had the advantage of being the one facing it. Which is why he had a few second lead of seeing the flurry of blonde hair rushing out. And also why he had the chance, whilst his captor turned to see what the noise was, to grab the gun and attempt to pry it from his hands. But the attempt was unsuccessful, mainly down to the fact only one of his arms was currently operational, so it resulted in a struggle of tangled limbs and grunts as each man tried to claim the gun as their own. That also meant that Hailey didn’t have a clear shot in fear of shooting her partner.

But suddenly she wished she had taken the chance and trusted her skills when both bodies tumbled off the roof.

She couldn’t move. She was fixed in place in fear of seeing her partner, her best friend, falling to his death. That’s when she heard the crack, the one from the bodies hitting the sidewalk, and it was then that every fibre of her being wanted to shatter. She wanted to fall to her hands and knees and wail and howl until she was hoarse and her tears had formed puddles below her.

But she didn’t. She ran to the edge of the building where she braced herself before looking over, ready to confirm her worst nightmare. And down on the pavement were mangled limbs and spattered blood surrounding them.

And Jay grasping onto a protruding metal pole with his right hand, his body dangling precariously as he grits his teeth to endure the pain.

Hailey couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t religious, but she thanked whoever was looking down right now for the miracle that just occurred.

“Jay!” She shouted, and you could tell she was on the threshold of breaking down from the way even the single syllable she spoke wobbled with unshed tears. She reached down her hand to grab his wrist, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to pull him up on her own, even if she had all the adrenaline in the world pumping through her veins. “Help! On the roof!”

She screamed it once. Twice. Three times. All the while, keeping her grip on Jay’s wrist as he hung helplessly. But she could tell he was getting tired, and he was already weak to begin with. The next time she spoke she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Just hold on, Jay, please. Please hold on.” It came out almost in sobs, but she was so desperate for him to stay strong that she didn’t care.

“Oh my god, Hailey!” Kevin shouted from the top of the stairs behind her. She heard his footsteps racing across the gravel before he dropped to his stomach beside her and looked over the edge. He didn’t hesitate to grab Jay’s arm, both him and Hailey heaving the man up and onto the roof.

And that’s where he gave up, falling to his back as the agony washed over him in full force, the adrenaline wearing off in its entirety.

“Jay, stay with me. Stay with me.” Hailey cried out, her bright blonde hair and fresh blue eyes as crystalline as the lake on a summer’s day being the last thing he remembers before slipping into unconsciousness.

***

The next thing he knows, the repetitive beep of the monitor and the chemical smell that lingers in the air is what he’s waking up to, along with the warm hand that is interlocked with his own and keeping him close. He flickers open his eyes, letting them adjust to the harsh white light before opening them fully and looking around. His brother is leant against the doorframe, watching him as he stirs before catching his eyes and smiling gratefully. To his right is a mess of blonde hair splayed out over the covers as Hailey rests her head and her eyes. He can tell she’s asleep from her slow breathing, but she looks anything but peaceful. He turns his attention back to Will, who is now walking gently towards him.

“Hey little bro,” he whispers. “You gave us quite a scare.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” Jay quipped, his voice hoarse, managing a small smile.

Will merely smirked before explaining what happened when they got to the hospital, speaking quietly at Jay’s request so he didn’t wake Hailey. Once he was done, he left with a nod and a remark about letting the two lovebirds have some time together.

Jay inhaled and exhaled deeply before gathering the courage to wake Hailey. He ran his fingers through her hair then caressed her cheek with his thumb until she stirred. She sat up, a little disoriented at first but she soon came back to earth. That’s when she realised what woke her, and any remnants of sleep were quickly shaken away.

“You’re awake.” She breathed out, a little disbelieving despite the surgeon saying he was due to make a full recovery.

“So are you.” He smirked.

Silence hung in the air once more, but it was neither comfortable nor awkward. Both of them could tell there were words that needed to be said, but they couldn’t find the right ones. Somewhat luckily, that’s when Voight decided to grace them with his presence.

***

It was a little later now, and Hailey had just returned from work to sit with Jay again. He wasn’t being discharged for a least another few days, much to his dismay, but he was glad that she was there to make the wait more enjoyable. Whilst she was gone, he figured out what he wanted to say to her, the exact words, only when she stepped into the room a few minutes ago, they seemed to escape him. But it was now or never, so he threw caution to the wind and went with what his heart was telling him.

“Hailey?” It was a little louder than a whisper that he managed at first, but she heard and was up on her feet in no time.

“What is it? Are you in pain? Should I get a nurse? Or are you thirsty? I can get you some water…” She was a little on edge. She wasn’t used to seeing her partner, the war vet, the first person through the door, so incapacitated and…weak.

“No, no, I’m good.” He chuckled, and she relaxed, exhaling deeply and sitting down on the edge of the bed before meeting his eyes. He smiled softly, as did she. “You saved me.”

“Well, Kevin was the one to- “

“No, Hailey, you saved me. When that guy shot me, I was so close to giving up. I was so sure that that was it, that I was going to die on the cold, stone floor of a warehouse. But then I heard your voice. It gave me hope, it reminded me I had something, someone, worth fighting for, so close to me that I could hear you. And I was devastated when he dragged me up to that roof, but I knew that you’d find me if I just kept him talking, and you did, and you saved me again. And then when we fell, I grabbed onto that pipe, but I was so tired, Hailey, I didn’t think I was going to keep hold of it much longer. But then you told me to hold on, and I knew that I had to because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to hear your voice again, I wouldn’t see your smile light up a room again or hear your laugh and have it make my day. And I realised, Hailey, that I couldn’t let go, because that would mean giving up on a chance of having the most amazing life with you, and I could never pass that up in a million years. So, yes, Hailey, you saved me.”

That’s when he realised that she had silent tears streaming down her face, but a small smile graced her features.

“Jay…I…” She started, but she too was unable to put her feelings into words, as none seemed to convey the immensity of them. So she leaned down and captured his lips with her own, cupping the back of his head with her hand, kissing him so sweetly and passionately that she poured a thousand words worth of her feelings into that one kiss. It was like everything around them vanished, as if nothing else existed but them. He returned it immediately, holding her cheek in his palm, and they bared their souls, showing how much love they have for one another, and suddenly they both felt utterly complete.

#upstead #jay halstead #hailey upton #jay halstead x hailey upton #upstead fic #upstead fiction #chicago pd #jay halstead imagine #jay x hailey #jay halstead fluff #jay halstead angst #chicago pd imagine #hailey upton imagine #upstead fanfiction #jay halstead fanfiction #cpd 7x10 #cpd 7x09 #hailey upton fanfiction #jay halstead x reader

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starryknight09 · 3 years

Text

No longer in service

Febuwhump Day 10: “I’m sorry. I didn’t know”

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“We’re sorry. You have reached a number that is no longer in service.”

Peter hung up and redialed. He must’ve pushed a number wrong.

“We’re sorry. You have reached a number that is no longer in service.”

He frowned and stared down at the phone screen as if it held the answer to why the number wasn’t working. He knew it was the correct number. Although it’d been five years for everyone else, it’d only been a blink for him. There was no way he’d forgotten May’s number.

He tried dialing one more time even though he knew it was pointless.

“We’re sorry. You have reached a number that is no longer in service.”

He blew out a heavy breath and tried not to panic. Just because May’s number was out of service didn’t mean anything bad had happened. Maybe she’d been snapped too. That seemed like the most likely explanation. But even if she hadn’t, five years had passed. There could be any number of reasons for why she’d changed her number. Maybe it’d been a reminder of him that’d been too painful. Although didn’t most people keep their numbers when that happened to preserve old voicemails and relisten to them?

In fact, that nudged something in the back of his mind. A memory hit him along with a shot of adrenaline. May had a voicemail from Ben that she’d kept, and she’d listened to it over and over when he’d first died. As far as he knew, she still listened to it sometimes, just not everyday. His stomach clenched. She wouldn’t get rid of her number by choice. Not if it meant losing that last piece of Ben.

Maybe something had happened financially and she couldn’t afford her phone anymore? But he knew he was grasping at straws. If anything, losing Peter would’ve relieved some financial strain. Or maybe… His brain wouldn’t even go there. Wouldn’t acknowledge the other possibility. He shook his head. She had to have been snapped. She had to have been.

But then what could he do? He took another deep breath and looked out at the beautiful blue sky and lush rolling hills, the magnificence of the scenery in direct juxtaposition to his mood. Any other time he’d be over the moon to be in Wakanda, but even before the phone call mishap, he’d barely been keeping it together. He’d arrived there in terror along with everyone else, hoping for a miracle for Mr. Stark. The man’s heart had stopped on the battlefield but that hadn’t phased Dr. Strange. He’d portaled him to Wakanda along with some other girl that looked to be about Peter’s age, who he’d later found out was Princess Shuri.

When Dr. Strange had returned to the battlefield half an hour later it was with the news that they’d managed to restart Mr. Stark’s heart but they couldn’t make any further promises yet. Dr. Strange had transported whoever else wanted to go to Wakanda, which had been quite a few of them, but not all.

Now, it’d been almost 24 hours since Peter had arrived. Initially he’d gone straight to Mr. Stark’s room to see him, and eventually he’d fallen asleep for almost sixteen hours. He’d been exhausted. The fight in the city, on the spaceship, on the alien planet, and at the compound had all occurred in the span of less than twelve hours for him. And he hadn’t escaped the final fight unscathed. His concussion, broken nose and broken ribs had mostly healed, but he was still sore. Things with Mr. Stark had improved as well, but not quite enough that the medical personnel were ready to guarantee he was going to survive.

“Peter?”

He turned and it took him a couple seconds to acknowledge the other man. “Hey Mr. Rogers.” Maybe he needed some more sleep.

“It’s Steve, son.”

“Right.” He nodded. But really, no way was he calling Captain America by his first name the day after he’d officially met him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you had a chance to shower?”

He blushed but the other man probably couldn’t tell behind all the dirt and grime on his face. He’d accidentally seen his reflection a couple hours after he’d arrived and he’d looked a mess then, and since he hadn’t had a chance to clean up yet, he definitely didn’t look any better.

“Oh. Uh, no. I don’t, um, know where it is.”

“The shower?” Captain American frowned. Great, the man probably thought he was an idiot. “There isn’t one in your room?”

“My room? I don’t…I don’t have a room.” He frowned. He’d passed out in a comfy lounge chair in Mr. Stark’s room, and even after he’d awoken, he hadn’t left the man’s room until about fifteen minutes ago when he’d suddenly remembered May and realized he should try calling her.

“I’m sorry.” Steve apologized, looking slightly chagrined. “We must’ve missed you. You have a room. We all do. T’Challa was nice enough to accommodate us. Come on, I’ll show you.” Mr. Rogers beckoned him forward, and Peter automatically followed.

After a short walk, Mr. Rogers stopped in front of a door. “Here we are. This is your room.”

At least his room wasn’t too far from the medical wing. Not that it mattered. He didn’t have any intention of staying in it. As soon as he cleaned himself off, he planned to head back to Mr. Stark’s room.

When he made no move to open the door after a few long seconds, Mr. Rogers reached out and opened it for him.

“Go shower son.” Mr. Rogers said and the suggestion came out like a gentle command. “And then maybe take a nap. You look a little rough.”

“I’m fine.” He denied automatically.

Captain America cocked his head to the side and studied him intently for a few seconds with a slight smirk.

“What?”

“Nothing.” The man shook his head. “You just remind me of someone.”

Peter frowned but didn’t care enough to ask. Now that he was faced with the idea of a hot shower, he found it was all he could think about. “Ok, well um, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Mr. Rogers gave him a slight nod and then turned and walked away, heading toward the medical wing.

Peter sighed and walked into his room. It looked like something out of sci-fi movie. Windows composed the entire back wall and light streamed in, illuminating the interior with all its sleek lines, metals combined with woods to make the space feel a mix of modern and natural. Calming earth tones in the space set a calming mood, but Peter couldn’t take the time to appreciate it. He headed straight toward the only other door in the room, which he assumed was the bathroom.

The bathroom décor matched the rest of the room. He almost felt like he’d stepped into a spa. Wow. This place was nice. It reminded him of Mr. Stark’s living spaces except with more of a nature twist. Mr. Stark. He really needed to shower so he could go back and check on the man. Pepper had been with him when he’d left, so he hadn’t been alone, but Peter didn’t trust that something wouldn’t happen while he was gone.

He quickly undressed and stepped into the shower, scrubbing all the dried blood, dirt, and grime off his body, the water turning a dirty grey as it swirled down the drain. Any other time he would’ve slowed down and savored the luxury, but right now he couldn’t, not with his thoughts filled with Mr. Stark and May. As soon as he was clean, he turned the water off and stepped out, eyeing his dirty clothes warily. He’d changed out of his suit and into a pair of scrubs when he’d initially arrived in the medical wing, but after 24 hours, he really didn’t want to get back in them. He stepped out and searched the wardrobe in the room, not surprised to find it stocked with clothes in different sizes. Mr. Stark did the same thing in his guest rooms. Peter picked out a pair of black sweatpants and a grey sweatshirt in his size. He threw them on, and was about to leave, when the desk computer in the corner of the room caught his eye. If May was dusted or…not, there should be some record of it online.

His feet made their way over to it, and as soon as he sat down, the screen lit up. It only took him a few seconds to find the browser icon and click on it, Google coming up as the default home page. He settled his fingers over the keys but paused, breath quickening. He knew what he needed to search, but he was afraid to find the answer. The only way he managed to force his fingers to move was because he still held onto hope that everything was actually ok, and he wanted that reassurance.

‘May Parker Queens New York City obituary,’ he typed in, fingers stuttering over the last word. He took a deep breath and clicked ‘enter’.

The results came up and his heart stopped. The first link had a match for all his keywords. He clicked on it, still hopeful. It was probably just her obituary from being snapped.

But no. The short paragraph popped up on the screen and his eyes skimmed over it, taking in all the important information in a matter of seconds.

‘May Parker…’

‘…lost her brave battle against breast cancer on June 23, 2021 at the age of 51.’

‘Preceded in death by her husband Ben Parker and her nephew Peter Parker.’

‘A funeral service is scheduled for June 26th at…’

The words blurred in front of him. He tore his watery eyes away from the screen and let out an anguished sob, head falling into his hands. She was gone. She’d been gone for two years. He’d missed her funeral. Thought after thought struck him like bullets, tearing his heart open. He was alone. He’d been resurrected from the snap just to find himself the sole survivor of his family. He had no one left.

And he had no home. He had nowhere to go. That last thought hit him so hard he buckled forward, falling from the desk chair to collapse onto the soft carpeted floor. He dug his hands into its plushness, not caring if he ripped it out, not caring about anything, as he cried and cried. His entire being was pain. How could one person have such bad luck? Why did he have to live though loss like this over and over? First his parents. Then Ben. And now May? And now he might even lose Mr. Stark. What had he done that the world saw fit to punish him this way? Anyone that ever got close to him died.

“Why?” He whispered, between sobs, face pressed into the floor. He didn’t know exactly what he was asking. Why did they all have to die? Why had he been brought back? Why couldn’t he have stayed dead? “Why?” He repeated, louder, and more desperate even though he knew it was pointless to ask. It wasn’t like he would get an answer.

He had no idea how long he laid there, sobbing uncontrollably, but eventually he exhausted himself and his tears tapered off until all that was left were intermittent weak hiccupping cries. He stared at the wall as the agony ebbed away and numbness crept in to take its place.

Eventually, he pushed off the floor with a sniffle, wiping the evidence of his anguish off his face. He had to pull himself together. For Mr. Stark. There’d be plenty of time to fall apart later, especially if the worst happened with his mentor, although he hoped the world wouldn’t be so cruel as to take him too.

‘Please. Please.’ He closed his eyes and begged, mouthing the words, afraid voicing the plea might jinx it, like telling someone your birthday wish.

He took a deep bolstering breath before stepping out of his room and making his way back to the medical wing.

When he entered Mr. Stark’s room, Ms. Potts graced him with a smile from where she sat in a chair next to the bed. Or wait, he supposed her name was Mrs. Stark now. At some point she’d told him they’d gotten married in the intervening five years. And they had a little girl together, but she was staying back at home with Happy.

“You look better.” She commented on his clean appearance. “Are you hungry? The staff brought some dinner by.”

He shook his head. No matter how hungry he was, there was no way he could stomach anything right now.

Mrs. Stark seemed to sense his mood. She frowned, concern lining her face. “What’s wrong honey?”

He shook his head and his gaze fell to his feet. May used to call him that. Honey. Hearing the endearment come from Mrs. Stark’s mouth made his throat tighten. He didn’t know how to form the words to explain what he’d found out.

Mrs. Stark stood and crossed the distance between them, her hands landing to rest comfortingly on his shoulders. “What happened?” He looked up at her as she searched his face for answers. ��Something happened.” She stated.

He nodded.

“You can tell me.” She encouraged softly.

He swallowed hard and croaked out, “May.”

“May?” Her brow furrowed. “What about May?”

After a few quick inhales through his nose, he managed to say it. “She…she died.”

“Oh sweetheart.” Mrs. Stark lamented, pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Faced with the comfort of her embrace, he started crying again. She just held him tighter, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into her blouse once he’d calmed down.

“Don’t apologize. You’ve had a terrible couple of days.”

He snorted messily. That was the understatement of the century. He pulled away, wiping at his face again.

“I don’t want you to worry about anything, ok?” Mrs. Stark told him, making a point to look seriously into his eyes.

He chewed at his lip. “I-I don’t know what to do. I don’t…I don’t have anywhere to go.” Admitting it almost made him break down into hysterics again.

“Of course you do. You’ll come with us.”

Peter’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“I know he wasn’t good at showing it back then, but Tony loves you.” She explained having seen his disbelief. “You’re not alone. You have a home with us.”

“But what if…what if Mr. Stark…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, the possibility too terrible.

Mrs. Stark winced. “The doctors say he’s doing a lot better, but if that happens, you’ll still have a home with me and Morgan. As long as that’s ok with you.”

He nodded, eyes welling up again. “That’s…thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Mrs. Stark leaned forward to hug him again. “I know it feels like the world’s ending right now, but it’s going to be ok. We’ll figure it out together.”

“Ok.” He whispered. He just hoped it was true, but even if it wasn’t, at least he had somewhere to go. He had a home.

And he wasn’t completely alone.

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhump #irondad

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Fake Relationship: One Small Hitch

READ PART 1

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

summery: You and Ben have your first official date and settle into your "relationship". But, with filming coming to a close, you'll need to be more committed to the act than before, especially when Ben's keeping secrets.

Warnings: Again, nothing much. Some language. Drinking. Nothing else I can think of.

Words: 8355

AN: Chapter 2 is finally here! Sorry for the delay but hopefully the next part will be up faster. I'm really really enjoying writing this series and I am so very excited about what's coming! The song mentioned is Reckless Serenade by Arctic Monkeys. Sidenote: Can anyone work out the theme of the chapter titles?

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie

“I’ve got something for you,” you half shouted at Ben when you saw him walking towards you from across the field you were filming in. You shuffled your shitty takeaway coffee into your other hand so you could reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper folded in half. He took it and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Funny cause I have something for you too,” Ben said as he let you go, reaching into his backpack and handing you a magazine, “Oh, shit, it’s our rules. You want page 15 by the way.” “Figured you’d want a record of them. What exactly am I looking f-” you let the word hang as you found the right page. It was decorated with a photo of you and Ben kissing on his doorstep, his hand around your back, the shirt you’d borrowed riding up just enough that it was clear you didn’t have shorts on underneath as you clutched at him. There was some text beside it, mentions of your most notable roles and his, a brief description of the movie you were in the process of making, and some speculatory remarks with a couple of innuendos thrown in. The usual gossip mag fare. On the other side of the paragraph was another photo, both of you leaving set the previous Friday, hand in hand and smiling. “We look pretty good together,” you laughed, getting only a noncommittal grunt in return. He’d suddenly become very interested in the sheet you’d handed him, staring at it like he hadn’t been there when it was written. You reread the brief article, trying not to gawk at the photographs. It certainly looked believable. “I’ve had about four people wish us well this morning,” Ben suddenly said, seemingly pulling himself together, folding up the rules and shoving them into his back pocket, “and I’ve not been here long. It’s kinda weird having everyone know we’re together. Or think we’re together,” he quickly corrected himself. “Yeah, Mel kept asking me questions about it while she was doing my makeup this morning, so I hope she took my awkwardness as me wanting to keep things private and not me not knowing how to answer some of them.” Ben chuckled, “yeah, Gail gave me a bit of a grilling too. I just told her we’d been sort of seeing each other for a few weeks and had only just like made it official or whatever and she seemed to buy it.” “Good, I told Mel the same sort of thing. Hopefully that’s enough for them.” “I’m more concerned with what my friends are going to say. I don’t think any of them read Heat though so hopefully it doesn’t come up any time soon,” “Lucky. My friend Felicity has the dumb site bookmarked. Checks it religiously. Bloody miracle she hasn’t called yet.” “Better turn of your phone then,” “And come back to a full voicemail and about a hundred texts demanding to know why I’m ghosting her?” “Tell her you were filming. I do it all the time,” he was grinning at you and you couldn’t help but grin back as you pulled your phone out and shut it off, “atta girl,” he pulled you into his side and gave you an affectionate squeeze that you leaned into , fully aware of how many people were around you, potentially watching. It was a feeling that didn’t really let up. You knew, rationally, that everyone there was focused on their jobs, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were constantly being scrutinised, and not just for your acting. It didn’t help when Seth had to stop recording to fix a problem with the boom mic and, good-humouredly, said, “don’t worry lovebirds, we’ll have her running in a second.” Or that one of the ADs delivered your call sheets for the next day with a, “I always thought you’d be cute together.” And it certainly didn’t help when you turned your phone on at the end of the day to find a series of texts from Felicity each with more exclamation points and capital letters than the last, and a missed call from Mary. “Better call her back,” Ben said, following you towards the carpark. You rolled your eyes, already holding the phone up to your ear listening to it ring. “Y/N, I was just about to try you again,” “Sorry, Mary, I had my phone off while we were recording, what’s the matter?” “Are you free this weekend?” “Um yeah, I think so, why?” “We’d like for you and Ben to go on a date this weekend. Somewhere in London preferably but it’s up to you. You saw the article in Heat? It seems to be going well. The hits your names have got on google have increased and there have been a few tweets about it. Nothing huge, you’re not trending or anything but you’re still relatively unknown so we weren’t expecting that to happen, certainly not overnight. But we think if we get a date story out quickly it’ll really help get people interested.” You rubbed your temple as you tried to process everything she’d just said, “Okay, I’ll talk to him and we’ll organise something. I’ll text you the details once I have them.” “Okay, let me know as soon as you can though. And send Peter the info too.” “Will do. See ya Mary.” “Was that about me?” Ben asked, smiling as he leaned against your car. “You up for a date this weekend? Apparently the first story went well and they want a follow up ASAP.” “Sure, where are we going?” “I don’t know, somewhere around London would apparently be best, but we get to choose. Any thoughts?” He thought for a moment, “This isn’t our first date is it? Like, we’ve said we’ve been on others before, right?” “Yeah, why?” “Well normally for a first date I take girls out for dinner and then, depending on the girl and how the dinner went, either a quiet drink or like a romantic as fuck walk in the park or something.” “That’s pretty standard stuff, Ben,” “Yeah, but in the fiction of us as a couple, this isn’t our first date. This’d be, what?” “Fifth maybe?” “Fifth. So I’m still trying to impress you a bit, but it’s like, more relaxed. We’ve done the dinner date, we’ve done coffee and a movie, we’ve even done the Museum. Now we’re getting into the fun shit.” “Museums don’t count as fun shit?” you chuckled, not sure where his train of thought was taking you. “It’s a bit overdone is all.” “What do you have in mind then?” “There’s this place that runs art classes during the day, right? Life drawing or like painting for beginner's type stuff. But a couple of nights a week they run these art and wine nights. They’ll give you a canvas or a ceramic figure or something like that and some paints and you can have a few drinks and do something arty. I did it with some mates a while ago, had heaps of fun. Seemed like the sort of thing yo- a girl might like to do on a date.” “That definitely sound fun.” “Really? You’re into it?” “Yeah, for sure.” “Okay,” Ben pulled out his phone and began typing, “shall I book us in for the Saturday night ceramics session?” “Go ahead. What time was that, so I can let Mary and Peter know.” “Seven thirty. If we get a cab in a little earlier we can grab something to eat on our way.” “Cool, okay I’ll text them. Is it BYO?” “Yeah. They do sell some stuff but it’s a pretty small selection.” “Okay, well that’s something to look forward to. Anyway, I should be going since I have about a million texts to sort through, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Wait, one thing,” Ben said before you could open your car door, “There’s a few people coming off set now so I’m going to kiss you, okay?” “Thanks for the heads up,” “No worries,” he stepped closer, his hand rising to cup your cheek as he kissed you softly. He took longer to break away than you’d expected, letting the kiss deepen instead, but you didn’t mind too much. It was a good kiss. And if it hadn’t been for Ben and the movie, you would have been severely lacking them recently. Which explained the vague feeling of disappointment that hit you when he did step back.

On your way home your phone beeped with another text from Felicity but you ignored it until you were inside and changed into the comfiest clothes you could find, flopping down on your bed to scroll through what she’d written. They varied from, “omg why didn’t you tell me about this Ben guy?” to “Y/N!!! Answer my texts!!!” all the way up to, “BITCH!!! CALL ME!!!!” She picked up on the first ring. “Where the fuck have you been all day?” “Some of us don’t have office jobs we hate,” you laughed, “I actually had to work, funnily enough, and because we were on location I had to keep my phone off while we recorded.” “Well I’ve been going crazy over here. Imagine my shock when I boot up my computer and open Heat and see your fucking arse being grabbed by your co-star.” “He was not grabbing my arse.” “Close enough. You didn’t tell me how fucking gorgeous he is.” “No, well, I don’t usually think about the people I work with like that, do I?” “Which is why I was so surprised to see you’ve shacked up with one of them.” “It’s not quite that serious.” “One night stands aren’t your usual thing. Definitely not with guys you work with anyway.” “I never said it was a one night stand, just that it wasn’t super serious!” “How many times then?” “We’ve been on like four dates.” “You fuckhead! You mean to tell me you’re actually dating this guy, who by the way looks like he could be a fucking underwear model, and you didn’t think to tell me? No so much as a I got dicked down by a total babe aren’t you jealous message?” “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it wasn’t going to go anywhere.” “But still, I’m your best friend, I tell you about every shag I have.” “In graphic detail,” “Exactly.” “Look it’s just a bit weird still. Neither of us have really hooked up with a co-star before and we didn’t want to say anything until we worked out what was happening.” “I guess that makes sense,” you could tell she didn’t mean it, “But, now that it’s out you owe me. I want to hear all about it.” “There’s not much to tell. We became quite good friends during all the pre-production stuff when we were rehearsing and all that. Our director wanted to make sure we clicked and had the right chemistry and stuff, since it’s a romcom and our characters get engaged in the first scene, so we hung out a lot. And then just before filming started he asked me out. Took me to this nice Chinese restaurant. It was fun so we agreed to go out again and it’s sort of just kept going.” “Those photos, was that the first time you’d stayed over at his?” “Second. First time was a couple of weeks ago. The night that led to the photos was just a few drinks after work with some of the others and we ended up ducking out a bit early and wound up at his.” “And?” “And what?” You had a hard time not laughing when you heard her groan. Her eagerness to know every sordid detail made her easy to fuck with, and that made the whole business of being secretive a lot more fun. “And, how was he?” “I mean…y’know,” “Y/N, I swear to god,” “He was good, okay? Really good,” you remembered what Ben had told you to say, trying not to laugh too much while you repeated it, “like, three orgasms good.” “Shit, really?” “Uhuh. And then another in the morning.” Felicity replied with a long whistle, “shit, girl, hold onto that one then. That’s definitely worth any trouble working together could cause." “Believe me, I know. We’re going out again this weekend.” It was surprisingly easy to lie about dating Ben. Though, of course, you weren’t technically lying since you would be going on a date. “Shit man, date five. That’s serious shit. You better tell me everything, in graphic detail.”

When you told Ben about the conversation the next day, admitting you’d spent ages praising his sexual prowess, he laughed and then thanked you, pulling you into a tight bear hug. You thought it was a slight overreaction considering he’d been the one to tell you what to say but his happiness was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more than normal as you hung out between scenes. An attitude which could only help your performance, making people more ready to believe you were a couple. His easy laughter and bright smiles continued until the afternoon when you were telling him more about Felicity and what you’d talked about. “She thinks you’re a keeper and kept telling me not to let you go.” “Your friend knows what she’s talking about.” “Lucky for you I can’t let you go since it’s all written up in a contract,” Ben laughed but when you glanced at him his smile seemed to falter. “You okay?” “Brilliant. Just had a bit of a late night and it’s catching up on me. Think I might try to have a quick nap before we’re needed again.” “I was thinking of grabbing another coffee if you want one?” “Thanks Y/N but I think the nap will do me more good.” “Probably better people don’t see us heading off to a trailer together anyway or they’ll suspect we’re getting up to mischief.” “Very true. I’ll see you a bit later.” “Sleep well!” Ben turned to leave, his smile seeming more forced than earlier. You would have worried except he seemed to be back to normal when he was called for your next scene. And it continued on through the week, his happiness only getting more pronounced the closer it got to the weekend.

You couldn’t quite match his energy on Friday, anxiety over your date getting stronger the closer you got to it. Hanging out at his place had been easy, even if it did include leaving half dressed. All you’d had to do was kiss him which you’d done enough times during filming that it was no longer too odd. But a proper date was something else. It was going to be the first real test you faced, the first time you’d really have to sell yourselves to the public as more than co-stars and more than a hook-up. “Hey are you okay?” “Huh?” “Your jiggling your leg a lot which you only do when something’s worrying you, what is it?” “Oh,” you forced your leg to stop moving, “nothing,” “Is it about our date tonight?” “What if it’s bad? What if we don’t look like we’re actually together and Mary and Pete have to cancel the whole thing?” “I’d get a decent night sleep not thinking about us,” he muttered. “What?” “I’ve been worried about it too,” he said louder, “but I think we’ll be okay. It’s not like we’ll be starved for conversation and we’ll have the paint and the wine and we’ll be fine. Plus, weren’t you the one who said this would be easy?” “Yeah I was,” you said sheepishly, “but -” “No buts. It’ll be a piece of cake. We go and have a good time painting a couple of plates or bowls or whatever, and then hold hands while we head home. They’ll get whatever shots they get, and they’ll spin it so we look like a couple.” “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry,” “It’s okay,” he reached out to rub the back of your hand, smiling softly at you, “the nerves might actually help you look like you’re legit. And worst comes to worst we can always run lines. I’m honestly so much more nervous about shooting that scene tomorrow.” “The one where we’re playing matchmaker?” “Yes! Have you seen how many names are in there?” “Theres like six, Ben,” “Yeah but they’re all repeated, and I know I’m going to get the order wrong,” You giggled and shook your head, “You’re unbelievable,” “Oh whatever,” he pushed your shoulder almost making you overbalance, “Just cos you know the lines already.”

Ben’s efforts to calm you down worked and you got through the rest of the workday without a hitch. Though your stomach was once again tight with nerves in the hours before the date. You spent a solid half hour standing in front of your wardrobe, freshly washed hair slowly dripping down the back of the towel you had wrapped around you, trying to settle on what to wear. When you were finally dressed you checked and rechecked the contents of your purse, and, in a moment of panic, you grabbed the heavily highlighted and notated script pages with the matchmaker scene and shoved them in beside your lipstick and bank card. By the time Ben arrived in an Uber to pick you up, ushering you into the backseat with a kiss on the cheek and a complement about how lovely you looked, you felt like you were on the verge of throwing up. But, once again, Ben’s natural charm eased your mind. The way he talked to you and smiled constantly had your heart rate slowing and your stomach settling within minutes. Even the way he squeezed your hand when he helped you out of the car, and the way he laced his fingers with yours as he led you towards your destination were welcome comforts. “D’you wanna grab something to eat?” Ben asked, stopping on a corner and looking around, annoyed people passing by on both sides. “Uhh, s’pose so.” “Has anyone ever told you you’re indecisive?” “I swear I’m not normally.” “Oh? Do I make you nervous, snookum?” he asked, playfully. “No, you git,” you laughed back, though you found it hard to meet his eyes, “I just don’t know I’m that hungry.” “Well, keep in mind there’ll be wine drinking. Don’t want to do that on an empty stomach.” “Valid argument. What’s nearby?” After some wandering you ended up in a McDonalds, Ben wolfing down a burger while you picked at the fries, not quite certain you’d be able to keep your food down. It was when you were coming out of a bottle shop, Ben holding the wine you’d agreed on, that you spotted the photographer. It was the same one who’d been outside Ben’s house when you stayed over, camera aimed at the two of you. Quietly you nudged Ben. He just wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side as you walked. You struggled to not watch the photographer as he followed you towards the art studio, having to keep reminding yourself to pretend he wasn’t there. “Relax,” Ben said softly in your ear, “He’s not important.” You nodded, afraid if you said anything you’d lose the meagre dinner you’d had. Ben’s thumb rubbing over your own gave you something else to focus on, counting each soft, smooth stroke, until you reached the right place.

You weren’t the only couple there, far from it. Most of the claimed tables were taken by pairs sitting close together, hands clasped or laying on thighs as they talked. A few tables held larger groups, double dates maybe or perhaps just friends. You felt a few eyes on you as you found a table close to the clear glass of the shopfront, but they turned away again quickly, more interested in their own little bubbles than yours. You glanced outside to check if the photographer was still there but couldn’t see much more than the reflection of you and Ben. His knee bumped yours under the table as he leaned toward you, pressing a finger to your jaw to turn your head towards him. “Forget the photographer. Forget Mary and Peter. Forget our arrangement. We're just two friends having a fun night out, okay?” “Okay,” “Okay. So what are you thinking of painting then?” He unscrewed the bottle of wine and grabbed one of the glasses you’d been handed on arrival. “Well what are my options?” “Well there’s your classic teacup, mug or plate options. There’s a couple of different jewellery boxes, I think. And then there are the statues, ummm, fairy, dragon, alien. Maybe a princess one, I can’t remember.” “More than I thought there’d be. What were you thinking?” “I did a dragon last time I was here. But I think I’m going to do a mug this time. Need some extras if you’re gonna be staying over more often.” “Maybe we should both do mugs, then? Something we can use at each other’s places.” “Alright, deal. But we can’t look at what the other is painting until they’re done.” “That’s going to be so hard!” you laughed, feeling properly relaxed for the first time all night. “Yeah but it’ll be fun though. Wait here, I’ll go grab us the mugs.” You took the opportunity to look around the room, trying to think of what Ben might like on a mug. There was art everywhere – paintings hanging on walls, examples of what the classes could teach you, decorated ceramics lining windowsills and shelves. Judging by the wildly differing levels of talent displayed, you assumed at least some of them were left behind and never claimed. There were plates decorated with fruit trees and ocean scenes, jugs covered in splatters of different colours, aliens in shimmery blue and princesses with green hair and orange dresses. But nothing that sparked your imagination. The noise of the room was steadily growing as everyone got stuck into their creations. Ben sat down, took a drink and got to work mixing colours. “You know what you’re going to do then?” “I have an idea. But I will warn you I’m not a particularly good artist so it might not look anything like what it’s meant to.” You picked up your blank mug and put it down again, tapping the end of a paintbrush against the table as you tried to come up with an idea. What did Ben like? He liked coffee. And dogs. And his guitar. More than once he’d brought it to set, playing it in his downtime. He’d been embarrassed the first time you mentioned overhearing him as you passed by his trailer, but you’d assured him you’d liked listening to him. You’d had the song stuck in your head for a week afterwards. “Made up your mind, have you?” Ben asked, glancing up from his handiwork as you mixed a pale peach colour. “No peeking,” “I wasn’t peeking. If I’d been peeking, I would have done this,” Ben craned his neck, leaning over to where your mug was. You laughed and pulled the mug closer to you, pushing him away with your other hand. He caught it in his own, taking the paintbrush from you, “Oi, careful with that.” “Oops, sorry,” Ben laughed and kissed your palm before letting you have your hand back, “No harm done. But y’know if you splattered me I’d have no choice but to get payback.” There was no need to reach for the script you’d brought as you and Ben fell into conversation while you painted. He asked if you’d had any more awkward phone calls with your friends and told you about what had happened when his mates had found out. Nothing like the conversation you’d endured, though there’d been plenty of teasing. You had to admonish him for nearly getting paint on your work when he began using the largest brush he had to artistically spray drops of paint over his mug. And then he’d laughed when you paused, admitting out loud that you weren’t actually sure how to paint the thing you’d planned on painting. He’d promised not to peek while you whipped out your phone to look up a reference image, going to far as to cover his eyes just to make sure. Once you gave him the okay he went back to painting, switching to a thinner brush and shushing you so he could concentrate. It was ridiculous how cute he looked, tongue between his teeth, bent over the mug as he slowly outlined the design. You shook your head to clear the thought and went back to your own work.

“Okay, I’m done. You wanna see now?” “Yes, absolutely. Unless you think we should wait until after they’ve been glazed?” “Fuck that, we can’t pick them up for a couple of days, I wanna show you now.” “Alright, show me then,” you put down your brush, focusing all your attention onto the mug in Ben’s hands. The base coat was a light purple, with splatters of darker purple over top. Slowly he turned the mug to show you the design on the front. It bore a slightly wonky engagement ring, similar to the one his character gave yours in the movie. On either side of the ring, in thin, not quite straight lettering, was the words we’re really good at this dating thing. You smiled as soon as you read the quote from the script, “I love it, Ben” “Thought it was kind of fitting,” he chuckled, “plus it’ll be a nice little souvenir once the movie wraps.” “That was a fun scene to shoot. Best proposal I’ve ever had.” Ben smiled and carefully turned his mug back towards him, “Best proposal I’ve ever given,” He seemed to be about to say something but stopped himself, shaking his head. You lowered your voice, “Promise I’ll get to keep it after we break up?” “Promise,” Ben said, matching your level and leaning in close, “Until then maybe you can use it as a reminder whenever you feel anxious about this whole dating thing.” “Thanks, I will.” You were suddenly very aware of how softly you were speaking, how close you were sitting, leaning in to hear each other over the rest of the room, and for a split second you thought he was going to kiss you again. But then the moment passed, the noise of the room intruding as Ben leaned back in his seat, “So do I get to see mine?” “Uh, it’s not quite done,” you said, picking up your brush again, the moment gone, “give me another couple of minutes.” “Masterpieces take time, I get it,” “This is by no stretch a masterpiece,” “I’ll be the judge of that thanks very much,” Ben turned to look out over the room while you tried to finish your painting without smudging anything, occasionally making comments about other people there or the art that decorated the room. You took one last look at what you’d painted, the guitar with the words stun gun lullaby written in cursive beside it, “Alright, I’m done now, you can look. Careful, some of it’s still wet.” Ben gently took hold of the handle and turned the mug so the design faced him. He broke out into a grin and you felt relieved that he liked it. “It’s definitely a masterpiece. For someone who didn’t know how to draw a guitar you’ve done an incredible job. And how did you know that’s one of my favourite songs?” “Is it? It's just the song I overheard you playing that one time. I thought that line was a good one for a mug. Nice and short so I didn’t have to paint too much.” “This is definitely my new favourite mug.” “Oh stop it.” “And hey, they kind of match.” You laughed when he pointed out the similarities, “Guess they do. Y’know that’d make a pretty cute Instagram post.” “You going to tag me as my mug?” “Of course. You could post a photo and tag me in it too,” “I don’t know. I don’t really post much personal stuff online.” “Well at least comment on mine,” “I can do that.”

After you’d taken a decent photo and posted it online you cleaned up, handed your mugs over to the woman running the night’s activity and stepped back out into the night. There was no sign of the photographer anywhere and you supposed he’d got what he needed and then left. Still, Ben grabbed your hand as you walked back up the street, just in case you’d missed the photographer in the crowd. “Guess that means we don’t have to worry about going home together,” you said, nudging Ben. “Guess not,” his lips quirked down in a soft frown.” “What is it?” “Nothing, nothing, just...feels kind of weird to just end the date here, I guess,” he scratched the back of his head and laughed, “Normally I’d offer to give you a lift home. Or at least give you a good night kiss, but I guess that’s not really needed now.” “Well, it’s like you said, we’re just friends having a fun night out. We could share a ride home though, if you wanted. You live near enough to mine it wouldn’t matter.” “Nah, don’t worry about it. I actually might go grab something to eat, don’t think that burger was quite enough. See you on Monday?” “Oh, yeah, okay, see you Monday.” There was a pause, both of you hesitating and then Ben gave you a much too quick hug before he walked off, disappearing into the crowd. You sighed and hailed a passing cab, spending the whole ride home wondering what the hell had just happened. But you pushed it from your mind once you were home, going through your usual nightly routine and very deliberately thinking of anything other than Ben. It didn’t help much. You still dreamt about him. Dreamt about the goodnight kiss you’d missed out on.

When you woke you had to laugh at yourself. You were sure that, had you binged a few episodes of a tv show or read something before you’d gone to bed you would have dreamt about it instead. Brains were suggestable like that. When you felt awake enough you rolled over and grabbed your phone finding a text from Ben and one from Felicity and an email from Mary. You opened Mary’s first, skimming over it and vowing to look at it properly once you had a coffee in your system. Ben’s was much easier to understand, a short message to say he had fun last night and that he’d pick the mugs up on his way to work on Monday. Felicity’s was just a series of question marks. You sent back a short response saying the date had been a lot of fun. It wasn’t enough and she was bound to come back at you asking for more details, but it would have to satisfy her. Slowly you got out of bed and made yourself a coffee, setting your laptop up next to you at the kitchen counter so you could try to read Mary’s email again. There was some information about some scripts she was going to send you, a couple of potential future roles, but the majority of the email was about you and Ben. She’d already seen the photos, apparently, and some of them would be run in the coming week’s magazine while others were being put online. She’d also seen the Instagram post and commended you for thinking of it. Another date would have to be organised, but it was better to wait until the next weekend or even the one after, so as not to fatigue the public.

So you and Ben fell into the routine of it. An email from one or other of your agents sometimes as vague as just telling you to organise a date, sometimes much more specific in what they wanted you to be doing, then the date itself, and in between work where you played up the romance as much as possible. You got good at pretending to stay over at each other's places, often just hanging out watching TV or running lines until the photographer called it a night and you were free to leave. Once or twice you’d opted to sleep in your own bed but get up early and head over to Ben’s for the required morning after shots but that process got old very quickly so you ended up actually staying over more and more. There was one day when your period came unexpectedly while you were at Ben’s. You were halfway through asking him to take you home when he offered to run to the store for you instead. “No, no, you don’t have to go out of your way like that, I’ve got plenty at home I just didn’t think I’d need any today.” “Y/N, I promise, it’s no trouble. I feel bad I don’t have anything here for you already. Been a while since I’ve lived with a girl and it didn’t even cross my mind. Seriously, it’ll take me two minutes.” When you still weren’t convinced he continued, “Plus, if I go we won’t ruin Peter and Mary’s plan for today. And the Paps can get a shot of me staring at boxes of tampons like a good caring boyfriend. It’ll help our image.” “Oh alright, as long as you don’t mind.” He was out the door a second later and back within ten minutes, though you did get a call from him at the shop, asking what brand you preferred. Once he was home, he made you a cup of tea, gave you a painkiller and, after checking you didn’t mind, cuddled up with you on the couch, teasingly calling you his cuddle bunny as he pulled you back against his chest. You almost complained, almost cited Rule 5, but it wasn’t so bad. Some might even go so far as to call it cute. It was better than snookum at any rate.

The dates themselves got easier after the first. You knew what to expect now so it wasn’t as nerve wracking as before. And Ben was always fun to be around, your list of inside jokes steadily growing as he became the one person you spent the most time with. You let yourselves relax a bit. On your third date Ben’s arm stayed glued around your waist as you walked around the zoo, only losing contact when a lemur jumped on his shoulder and you stepped back to take a photo. It wasn’t low enough to violate the rules you’d put in place but his hand was dangerously close to falling below your belt, and it was definitely something you would have put a stop to when you first started the charade. The Instagram posts had got more frequent too, though Ben still refused to post anything to his own profile. But he commented on everything you posted whether it involved him or not. And people were buying it. You’d been moved from page 15 to page 13 and then to page 10 in the magazines. You both picked up more followers online as your photos were shared across Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr. There were some downsides like rude comments and nasty messages but mostly they were easy to ignore. Worse were the phone calls and messages from family members and friends asking when they’d get to meet Ben. He’d had to fend off his own family as well, but you both stuck to Rule 4, making up excuses and promising it would happen eventually, but it just wasn’t possible right now. But your biggest problem was the issue of intimacy. It wasn’t the lack of sex itself, that was easily managed. It was that Ben had started to intrude on your fantasies. You’d be there with your fingers or your toys and suddenly it was Ben’s voice you were thinking of, Ben’s hands, Ben’s teeth and tongue and chest. Ben’s name falling from your lips. And you knew it was just because you were pretending to date him, on and off set. It was the dumb suggestable brain thing again. The thoughts were only there because you were pretending to be in love with him and usually sex was tied up with love or at least relationships. And really, you hadn’t been attracted to anyone much lately because you hadn’t been looking because you’d been pretending to be attracted to Ben so it’s really no wonder you’re brain got all confused and mixed him into those other thoughts. The first time you saw him after it first happened you wondered if he could tell, a slightly flustered awkwardness hanging over you. But it wasn’t worth mentioning to anyone. You just vowed to push him out of your mind as much as you could.

Nearly two months later you found yourselves back in the office where the idea of pretending to date was first floated. With filming drawing to a close Mary and Peter were keen to check in with you. The first thing either of them said when you and Ben turned up is how well the story was going. “Projections have the sales for this movie increased by five percent, just because of your relationship and that number is expected to grow as we get closer to release,” Mary spoke fast though whether that was excitement at the boosted numbers or just a busy schedule rushing her along you weren’t sure. “What happens now?” Ben asked, “I mean, since we won’t be filming together anymore after this week,” “That’s exactly why we wanted to talk with you both today,” Peter opened a pocket notebook and thumbed through a couple of pages, “so not much will change but we may occasionally need to balance out the loss of on set photos with shots of you out and about together. Nothing stressful and all very easily staged. You probably wouldn’t even need to be out for more than an hour or so at a time. People have been loving the domestic sort of photos you’ve been putting online, Y/N, that one of you using the coffee mugs you painted was especially good. So we’d like a few more of those sorts of moments. The two of you grocery shopping or walking a dog, do either of you have a dog? No? Hmmm, we could hire a dog and write a story about you sitting for a friend. We’ll put a pin in that for now. But yes, just some candid shots of you walking around London and doing regular everyday things together.” “We’ll also need to schedule the argument soon. We’re thinking somewhere within the first two weeks of filming being over. It means we can run speculation about whether the relationship is on the rocks now that you aren’t working together anymore. We’ll see how things go this week and make some decisions later, but we’ll give you plenty of warning before you have to perform it. Obviously, it has to be scheduled so we can guarantee someone will get photos but we need it to seem as natual as possible so we’ll leave the specifics of the argument up to you.” You nodded along but Ben had more questions. “What does this mean for any jobs we might be looking at taking after this movie wraps?” “You can still take on whatever roles you want provided they’re filming here. It’s harder to keep you in the public eye if you’re separated and while the drama of a long-distance relationship might be interesting at first, it’s not sustainable.” “If it was filming somewhere else in the UK we could maybe organise something. We’d have to look into it and see if it was possible to stick to our same plan but just shift the location. Maybe have a weekend visit angle to it, Y/N flies out to see Ben, Ben comes home to see Y/N, that kind of thing.” “Leave it with us Ben and we’ll get back to you on the logistics of it all.” “Oh, that’s okay, I don’t have anything set in stone, I was just curious.” “Is there anything else you have questions about?” “No, I don’t think so,” He looked towards you. “No, I’m all good.” “Okay, well, if you think of anything you can message us any time.” “Really, though, this is going very well. It’s already paying off but we need to keep the momentum during the post-production phase, so we need you both to be committed to this.” “We are.” “Unbelievably committed,” Ben added.

You and Ben left the meeting joking about potential arguments you could have and for the rest of the day, whenever you passed each other in the halls or had a moment alone you’d try to one up each other's suggestions. It was a good way to keep your spirits up even though the end of filming was fast approaching. One by one each cast member recorded their last scenes, saying an emotional thank you to the crew when the director called cut. You and Ben were the last to finish since you were the leads. A small pillow talk scene that you could do in your sleep. It was a nice way to end it, lying in bed with Ben’s arms around you, even with the heat of the studio lights. While you were waiting for the cameras to be positioned you and Ben joked around with the crew that were flitting around angling mics and adjusting set decorations. “Hey, Seth,” Ben said suddenly, “can you pass me my phone. I think we need to document this moment. What d’you say, cuddle bunny?” You laughed and poked him in the side but agreed. Ben stuck his arm straight up into the air, trying to angle the camera just right but he couldn’t quite get the photo to take without blurring. Seth took pity on you and offered to take the photo himself, allowing you and Ben to snuggle in close. “If you post it on Insta you better credit me,” Set laughed, turning it round to show you. “I’ll do that,” He said with a smile, “It’s pretty cute, I think I have to post it.” “Really?” you asked, surprised he’d volunteer to do such a thing. Ben didn’t have a chance to respond because everything was ready to go. Seth put the phone back away so you could film the scene, laughing in between takes until everyone was satisfied. “That’s a wrap on Ben Hardy and Y/N Y/L/N everybody,” A round of applause started as you pushed yourself to sit up, trying to stop yourself from welling up. “And that’s a wrap on The Perfect Match.” The applause continued and Ben pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing your back and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You had to say a few words but you managed to get through it, and Ben’s little speech, without completely losing it. Afterwards, as people packed up the equipment and you headed back to your trailers to change, Ben pulled out his phone again. “I guess I should post that photo now, how’s this caption,” he said each word slowly as he typed it out, “Thank you Y/N for being the perfect Edith to my Andy. And thank you @theperfectmatchmovie for finding me my perfect match.” “Did you tag me?” “Of course,” “Did you tag Seth?” “Uhhhh, camera emoji by @seththesoundman. Now I have,” “Then it’s perfect. Little bit cheesy but I’ll let it slide.” “I’ll post another lot of photos with everyone else later and write a longer thing about how much fun this movie was and all of that, but I think this’ll do for the minute. Mary and Peter better fucking appreciate it.”

That evening most of the cast and crew headed out for drinks at the local pub. The official party would come later but everyone needed to get out and celebrate for an evening. You and Ben stayed for a few hours, Ben getting a little more clingy with each drink he finished. You limited yourself to only a couple. Ben wasn’t going to be able to drive so you decided to fall on that sword, switching to water quite early on. When he reached the point of intoxication that had him constantly complementing everyone you decided to call it a night, taking a final lap to say goodnight to everyone. There were a few wolf whistles and slurred comments about getting some as you left, Ben’s arm around your waist and his laugh in your ear, but you waved them off and led Ben out to your car. “C’mon Benny boy, I’ll drop you home.” “What about my car?” “Well you’ll have to come get it in the morning, won’t you.” He hummed and lay his head against the back of the seat, chatting animatedly as you made the trip to his. You wished him goodnight as he got out of the car and watched him make his way up to his front door. There he paused, patting his pockets. “Everything alright? You called out to him. “I don’t have any keys,” he laughed, turning around to come back to the car. “You fucking goon, did you leave them at the pub?” “Guess so,” he shrugged, “Can I crash at yours?” “Get in,” “Thanks cuddle bunny, you’re the best” You rolled your eyes, “Guess this means I’ll be your taxi tomorrow, running you around to find your keys and your car,” “That’s what girlfriends are for,” “If you say so.”

Once at yours you headed to the kitchen to make tea, Ben following to grab a glass of water and a snack. He knew where you kept everything by now, making himself a sandwich with whatever he found in your fridge, and then carrying it out to the couch. By the time the teas were made Ben already had Netflix queued up, ready to play the next episode of the series you’d started watching together. Nearly Twenty minutes into the episode Ben’s phone dinged. “Ah shit,” he said as he glanced at it, “forgot I said I’d call Joe. Do you mind if we pause the ep? We’re trying to organise travel stuff for him and it’s easier if we talk it through rather than texting it all.” “Sure,” “I promise I won’t be long.” “Take your time, it’s fine,” you were already reaching for your laptop. Ben smiled at you before ducking out of the room. You head him walking down the hall, footsteps fading as he got further away. For a while you just enjoyed the quiet as you checked your emails and social media profiles but after commenting on the photo Ben had posted and replying to a few messages from people you knew there wasn’t really much left to do. You drummed your fingers on your keyboard trying to think of another website you could visit. There was still no sign of Ben and you didn’t want to continue the show without him so you stood up, stretched, and headed back to the kitchen to grab some chocolate from the stash you kept. You were just about to shut the fridge when you heard Ben’s voice coming from the other side of the wall. Your spare room where he’d clearly gone to make his phone call. “Yeah, Joe, I fucking know. But I don’t have much choice.” He sounded more sober than he had when he’d got up. There was a pause as Joe spoke and then you heard Ben again. “I don’t know what I was thinking getting into this mess…..Yeah maybe. Doesn’t really matter though now does it…. What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t just call it quits now, the story is doing too well and Peter has assured me that the numbers are promising or whatever I don’t really know how they measure it. All I know is that people are going to see the movie because of us.” There was a long pause. You quietly shut the fridge and took a step back towards the doorway. This was not a conversation you should be listening in to. But then Ben spoke again, and curiosity got the better of you. “It doesn’t matter Joe. It doesn’t matter how I feel.” He laughed but it was completely devoid of humour, “Of course it sucks. It’s fucking shit, man. I just keep waiting for her to tell me she feels the same but it’s not happening…... No, I know it’s completely one sided…..No, I don’t think she knows. She wouldn’t have wanted to do it in the first place if she knew…. I just wish things were different. I love being around her and being able to hold her and kiss her but it fucking sucks that it’s only in public….. I don’t know. Maybe not filming together will ma-” You could feel your cheeks burning as you tiptoed back towards the lounge room, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You paced back and forth for a moment before deciding to go to the bathroom, at least then Ben couldn’t walk in on you as you tried to process it. You let the door shut loudly behind you, hoping that if Ben had heard movement he’d think you’d just got up to use the loo. He couldn’t know you’d overheard him. You leaned against the sink and tried to make sense of what you’d heard. Ben couldn’t have a crush on you, he just couldn’t. But it was the only thing he could have been talking about. What the fuck did that mean for your arrangement? What the fuck were you meant to do now?

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ahhhhhhh #ya'll im so excited about this series #i have all the chapters planned out #i have all the titles planned out #i wrote a short synopsis of the film they're making #so that i can reference it throughout the fic and be consistent in what the scenes might be #god can ben please just make a romcom now #i want it more than anything in the world

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 8: The Sorting Hat

"Finally!"

Sirius didn't even care he'd fallen onto the Slytherin table and in a bowl of someone's midday soup. He rolled right off and burst with excitement at finally being back in the Great Hall.

Though it took him a moment to realize it wasn't the one they would have left. Stars were covering the high ceiling, forming constellations he could have pointed out if he'd wanted. The plates were decked out with their gold of a start of term feast, and the banners hung above each house table like they did for the first years to know why someone was cheering for them. He had not, in fact, rolled through minestrone, but freshly melted ice cream as if the Great Hall had just been left and all the students fresh at term were off to their dormitories. It was honestly a miracle the food hadn't vanished as it usually did when the events were done.

Without any actual hope, Evans went to the doors and tried to pull them open, though none had ever even seen them closed, so they weren't particularly surprised by this point when they couldn't get out. Never before had so few people been in here, and even Sirius walking across to the Gryffindor table echoed like nothing he'd ever noticed before. Even back in Diagon Alley without the usual shoppers wasn't such a sight if you went early mornings like he had at times, this still felt far more unfamiliar than his home of the past five years ever had.

"Well I don't know about you lot," Remus took a seat next to Sirius and pulled a bowl of pudding towards him, "but I'm starving."

The other four still couldn't help but hover awkwardly, even Frank who had been down in the Great Hall first for breakfast some mornings had never claimed a table for his house without first glancing up and seeing not only the headmaster but at least a majority of the staff while he did.

He followed Alice gratefully, but she chose to sit with her back to the Gryffindor boys at her house table instead and so Frank sat awkwardly beside her, still glancing around as if expecting Professors Sprout or Flitwick to call one of them out for this.

Lily graciously sat across from them, a bit uncomfortable herself for not only being at the wrong table but also still not sure exactly how much she could be following them around without feeling like a lost puppy. She gave Regulus a sympathetic look as he continued hovering at the head of the tables and then to the farthest end of the room where so often the Slytherin's sat.

Sirius noticed again, but this time took pity on his brother and waved him over, saying, "come on then, no point sitting over there when those three aren't bothering with such nonsense." Needlessly gesturing over his shoulder to prove his point.

"I don't need your pity," Regulus grumbled under his breath, but it was so quiet in here they all heard as he went to the farthest table anyways.

Sirius huffed and muttered, "that's what I get for trying to be nice."

"Sirius, you've still got a bit of mint on your bum," Remus nodded to the green stain on the seat of his trousers simply for the change of topic he told himself.

"What you looking for?" Sirius demanded with a pleased little smirk, neither breaking eye contact even as James clucked his tongue but kept shoveling trifle down, despite having to use his left hand considering his right was still smarting too much to hold a spoon, and Peter muttered at the two to get a room.

"Here Evans," Alice passed Lily the book more to get past yet another awkward moment than anything.

"So what house do you think Harry'll be in?" James asked eagerly when she read out the chapter title, all of them glancing up as if the stool and hat would magically appear.

"Gryffindor," his three friends said at once.

Lily scoffed heavily but tried to ignore them, but Frank couldn't help turning in his seat and eyeing them while asking, "and if he's not?"

"But he will be," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I'll actually enjoy it now if he ends up in Hufflepuff," Alice said with a frown at them. "See the look on you lots faces when you realize there are other houses besides your own winning the Cup now and again."

"Bet that Granger girl will be Ravenclaw," Peter muttered when she was yet again mentioning some reference from a book.

"I take offense to that," Frank turned back away even as he continued speaking to them. "Not everyone from this house has to be the smartest person in the room."

"Says the guy correcting us," Remus rolled his eyes.

Lily tried reading just a little bit louder to cut them all off, wishing she could skip right to the part of the sorting already considering she didn't find it amusing what Ron's brothers had played on him, though Peter couldn't help glancing across the hall and seeing Regulus making a face at Sirius' back and instantly knew his friend had tried to convince his little brother of much the same.

Finally it came time it was that little Hermione's turn, and Lily couldn't help smirking the second the Marauders made little disappointed huffs at being wrong.

"Ah well, win some you lose some," James smirked over at Lily's surprised face, she'd been expecting a much more vivid reaction.

"You thought I was going to be a Slytherin until I proved you wrong," Sirius reminded with a smirk.

"Couldn't be more pleased to be wrong," James nodded in agreement, still trying to catch her eye though she'd looked away almost instantly, but that was twice in...well since this had started so he considered that progress.

Lily stuttered in surprise when she'd kept going for a bit, looking at Alice and Frank with a calculating look.

"What's the matter Evans?" Alice held her hand out expectantly. "Neville's last name hard to pronounce? I'll give it a shot."

"Oh it's not that," she assured before reading the sentence proper.

Frank froze in surprise and gave his girlfriend a sideways look like he wanted to apologize to her for something, but after her initial shock and a bit of stammering she composed herself and looked steadily at Lily while saying, "well, as I said before, this is quite a future we're hearing about, doesn't have to mean much though."

Lily laughed a bit in surprise to Alice sticking to that, and so didn't notice the couple taking hands under the table and exchanging glowing looks at the news they may well one day have their own child! They'd only been going out for a year after all, and at seventeen it seemed ludicrous at best this happening, but for the first time this had started the two felt they had something to actually be paying attention to.

The two listened with honest curiosity, and laughed in surprise at the house Neville went into. "I wonder what he and the hat were chatting over to take so long on that," Frank said with honest curiosity.

"He doesn't seem the type to have asked for Gryffindor," James said with his head to the side.

"What's that?" Alice asked in surprise.

"All four of us asked to go into Gryffindor," Sirius shrugged like that was obvious. "That's how you get into this house, be brave enough to put your opinion to the hat first day."

"I asked to go into Slytherin," Lily corrected with a challenging brow at them. "So why didn't it listen to me?"

James' mouth did pop open in surprise at that, but Remus was looking at her curiously. "Well I guess we were a bit off then, clearly asking for any house gets you put in here."

"Wonder which house Neville was actually asking for then," Frank finished with with what had started this with no actual answer.

James shushed him and everyone, eyes focused on Evans as she kept going, and it wasn't his usual doe eyed look.

Finally it was Harry's turn, and Lily couldn't deny she was curious, having never heard another person's time under the hat before.

It didn't start off very memorable, but that changed quickly.

"Slytherin?" James yelped as if genuinely hurt. "A Potter, in Slytherin!"

"Shut up Prongs," Remus happily rolled his eyes at him. "You just got done laughing that of course Malfoy was put there a second ago because of his family, I thought you'd enjoy your brood breaking tradition."

"Not this one!" James protested.

"You're such an arse Potter, what do the houses mean anyways except to group us so the teachers have a bit more of a handle. Why they didn't just do it by grade and assign each teacher a year I'll never know-" Alice tried to say, but was ignored by him still going.

Lily slammed the book hard enough to stop him though. "If you don't shut up I'll make your discomfort in that cupboard laughable! See how you like being squashed in my shoe for all your nonsense."

James backed down at once, muttering he was only joking.

"Not your brightest move Prongs," Sirius told him in a conversational tone of voice. "Considering she'd just told you she'd asked to be in that house."

"Can't I be surprised that hat tried to put some kid of mine in another house?" He huffed.

Peter at least made a sympathetic face, but was ignored as the others until Harry was finally sorted to where they were.

"There you have it then, kids going to grow up with as fat a head as that idiot with all of this," Lily muttered, honestly just as disappointed as Potter was pleased Harry had fought so hard against being in Slytherin.

"Don't be so harsh and judgmental Evans," Alice couldn't help but rebuke just a bit. "That thing said he didn't even notice getting the loudest applause."

Ron's sorting at least was to no one's surprise, but the news of the chapter wasn't done shocking them yet.

"This kid really does get all sorts of interesting things happening around him," Frank couldn't seem to stop pointing this out, but honestly Lily couldn't blame him. Six years at this school and they'd never had a forbidden corridor, yet starting this year Harry had one. None of them needed to look over and see the others opinion on this, because none of them needed to think for more than a second if those rule breakers would be poking their nose into that place, and their not very whispered conversation about it wasn't doing much to discount this idea.

"I'm guessing it's not normal for scars to start stabbing you in the forehead," Peter said in surprise, attention dragged right back to the story even before they'd run out of ideas of why Dumbledore had blocked off an unused part of the school for something.

"Forget that, I'm still stuck on the description of that bloke," Sirius had his eyes narrowed shrewdly while Remus was fidgeting uneasily at his side for the same reason.

Peter huffed and tried to keep James attention on the subject, but admittedly lost the fight himself when Evans confirmed a name.

"Snape? A teacher at this school! I'm going faint," Prongs declared, admittedly rather pale underneath the glasses.

"Poor Harry's going to be murdered when he first steps into class," Sirius agreed, already crossing himself and saying a prayer to that kids funeral.

Lily hardly heard them, looking far more happy and certainly invested in this for the first time. She couldn't believe her luck! If she couldn't have her best friend with her through this mess, at least she could see his future! This was going to be brilliant, and no matter what Harry saw in those looks that surely were being exaggerated, she was actually going along eagerly now just to know more about this!

When Regulus stabbed his custard with far more force than the spoon needed, Peter finally decided he'd waited long enough and left his seat.

"Oi, Wormtail, where you going?" Sirius asked in surprise as Peter swung himself free of the bench, but he waved them off, ignoring their question by answering it when he sat down next to Regulus.

"Round the bend he's gotten lately," James muttered to the two left. "You noticed him acting weird lately Moony?"

"Err, no," Remus admitted honestly, but he'd been rather ignoring a lot of his surroundings the past few weeks.

"Well he has," James said like he'd agreed anyways.

"Now he's gone to chat with my brother of all people, yeah Prongs, you're not wrong," Sirius wasn't being subtle about watching over his shoulder to see why.

"It's err, good your friends made up," Regulus gestured vaguely over his shoulder where he'd seen Lupin and his brother were chuckling while James was making faces.

"You've no idea," Peter agreed with a smile. "James has been going stir crazy and Remus won't admit how miserable he's been."

"And you?" Regulus asked when he seemed done there.

"What about me?" Peter asked in surprise.

Regulus just shrugged, unsure how else to put into words he was simply surprised Peter hadn't included how he'd felt.

"Oh," he seemed to get it anyway. "Err, the quiet's actually been a lot more awkward than I would have thought. Moony's been a bit mopey, can't say I blame him with what Sirius pulled, and so I've been hanging around James but of course-" he stopped, then suddenly flushed a bit and did a double take like he'd just realized who he was talking to.

"What exactly did Sirius pull?" Regulus asked to fill in the silence. "Whole school's noticed obviously."

"I'm, not supposed to say," Peter said all in a rush now, looking relieved he clearly hadn't said too much. "Big thing with Dumbledore, anybody who chats about it will actually be expelled, and not just one of McGonagall's detentions until the end of times thing."

Regulus shrugged without much care and turned back away. Snape had said something similar when anyone asked him.

Peter shook himself when he realized he'd been distracted from his reason coming over here. "Know where we're headed next?"

"Not a dickey bird," Regulus shrugged with disinterest, knowing that stupid question couldn't be the reason he'd been singled out, none of them had a clue after all.

"Neither do I," Peter agreed, "but wherever it is, you think I could get your help with something?"

"Me?" Regulus scoffed. "You've got three mates over there, what-"

Peter quickly explained, watching with enjoyment at first the surprise, then amusement that passed over him, only just finishing at the same time as Evans and suddenly far more distracted by the world being spun around him to notice if he'd agreed or not.

#Fanfiction #Harry Potter #James Potter #Marauders #Lily Evans #Alice Smith #Frank Longbottom #Sirius Black #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Remus Lupin #Wolfstar

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shijiujun · 4 years

Text

love in the dark | 2,189 words | TangFei

It’s the second time in three years they’re in this situation — stuck in a lift and sitting close to each other on the floor as they await rescue. Tang Yi can’t bring himself to hate it, because Shao Fei is here by his side, just like he was three years ago.

(an excuse just to briefly write chaotic but competent secretary!shao fei and also a tang yi who lets shao fei take care of him without much thought, for once)

For @florbexter ‘s July collection - Out of Order and taking one of her prompts out from her list! As always, flor is a hard carry for the Trapped fandom <3

“… you really should stop having coke in the morning so often,” Tang Yi says, looking at the man seated opposite him at the dining table with obvious disapproval. “Give me that.”

The man in question looks up suspiciously, then hugs the can of coke to himself, “You said I could have anything!”

Tang Yi opens his mouth to refute him, but Shao Fei, with his wide, innocent-looking eyes, is staring at Tang Yi as if he cannot believe that the man will go back on his word.

“I know I said I would fulfil a request of yours for inking that difficult deal on my behalf, but… don’t you want something else? New interns? A new car? How about a new coffee machine for the secretary’s pantry? Or even a few more suits? The last one is a good idea. You haven’t gone for a fitting in a while and there are a few new batches of prints for the autumn collection-“

“Tang Yi, it’s just one can of coke, I’m not even drinking a bottle,” Shao Fei interrupts with a frown.

“And no, I don’t want new interns because you hate having to deal with them and I don’t want to end up babysitting them either. Why would I need a car? Wherever you go, I go. Coffee machine? You buy a new one and I give it a week before Jack and Zhao Zi have it shifted to some other floor for themselves. I’ve got all the clothes I need. You won’t deny me this guilty pleasure, right? Tang Yi! Ah Yi, Xiao Yi Yi~”

He’s not wrong on any count. As always, Tang Yi finds that in front of one Meng Shao Fei, there’s really nothing that he wouldn’t give him. However, they’ve known each other for the better part of three years, and it really doesn’t hurt to try.

How long has Shao Fei been his secretary now? Almost three years in two months, Tang Yi notes.

And to think that Tang Yi was so resistant towards the idea of having a secretary and personal assistant for years, having a huge dislike for strangers following him that closely.

Now, Tang Yi and Shao Fei spend almost every hour together — working in the same office, staying in the same house, going on holidays, and hanging out lazily on the couch on off days among other things.

“Okay, just this once,” Tang Yi acquiesces, then reaches for Shao Fei’s mouth with his hand, his thumb wiping away at the remnants of coke on his lips.

Shao Fei doesn’t pay Tang Yi’s touch any mind, almost leaning imperceptibly into it as his attention is captured by the incoming messages on his phone.

“Hmm, we’ve got to go soon, Bai-zong is arriving at the airport early and I think he’ll make his way straight to us to talk over the deal,” he says, quickly firing off some replies to the messages he’s reading. “That gives us an extra hour before lunch, which means you’ll be able to attend that mini party going on in the marketing department? It’ll be good to turn up and show that you actually care about your employees…”

“I do care about all my employees,” Tang Yi returns dryly, getting to his feet. “Did you get the gifts for Bai-zong and also Xiao Man’s farewell party?”

His secretary looks up, a little affronted at the insinuation that he’s not fully prepared, “Of course! Tang Yi, how can you doubt me-“

“Alright, just get ready,” Tang Yi smiles, touching a knuckle to Shao Fei’s cheek in mock-admonishment.

===

Everyone is fond of Shao Fei, even though he’s not the type of character that most people will think of first when they look at the secretary role. Shao Fei is loud, boisterous, and sometimes even impulsive, creating trouble for Tang Yi when he’s not looking. It’s always the minor things though, like tripping over his own feet and dropping a tray of hot coffee onto his very expensive rugs once, or getting mad at a potential client for harassing Tang Yi.

Since Shao Fei assumed the role however, Tang Yi has to say there has not yet been a single misfiled document, late reply to an email or forgotten appointments. He’s also getting less complaints from his employees as a whole because Shao Fei is pretty much a guard at his door, fielding important requests from ridiculous ones. And since Shao Fei actually is a black belt in both Judo and Taekwondo, he plays the role of Tang Yi’s bodyguard from time to time if the situation calls for it.

Tang Yi remembers all of his employees’ names because this is his company, after all, but Shao Fei knows everyone. He speaks to every person they come across, and even when Ke-shu, the janitor that’s in charge of cleaning Tang Yi’s office and Shao Fei’s desk, comes in every morning to take out the trash, Shao Fei ends up chatting with him, asking after his granddaughter and if his knee is feeling better.

Shao Fei took a week off once, and it was only then Tang Yi realized just how much work he was handling.

“When are we flying to Beijing again?” asks Tang Yi, stepping into the lift.

“Next Thursday,” Shao Fei replies without even pausing. “I’ve already booked the tickets.”

It has been a while since the both of them took a break, and Tang Yi says so after some consideration, “We’ve got a bit of time this month right? Let’s extend the trip by a day or two.”

“Hmm… we could,” Shao Fei agrees carefully, his mind running through the meetings he has to reschedule if they do that. “Nothing important in the days after that inspection with the team in Beijing-“

He’s cut off when the elevator suddenly shakes with a loud scratching noise from the outside, and almost falling to the side if Tang Yi did not grab for him. The lights flicker on and off several times before the lift comes to a complete stop, and they’re plunged into darkness.

Shao Fei draws Tang Yi in unconsciously with one hand while the other pats at his pocket for his phone.

“You okay?” he asks, his hand sliding across Tang Yi’s back.

“… yeah, I’m good,” Tang Yi replies.

He tries to sound as nonchalant and steady as possible, but his voice still shakes a little. Shao Fei catches that tiny detail, and without another word, he brings the both of them to the corner of the lift next to the lift buttons and hits at the correct one to ring for help.

Tang Yi isn’t fond of enclosed spaces, and certainly not spaces that do not have light.

After communicating with the security guards in the building that he and Tang Yi are stuck in the lift, all they can do is wait for help. With that done, Shao Fei switches the flashlight on his phone on and leaves it on the floor so the entire lift is illuminated.

Looking at Tang Yi finally, Shao Fei frowns, noting how tightly wound up Tang Yi is against him. With any luck they’ll be out of here in another couple of hours, so he lowers himself and Tang Yi to the ground to sit.

“This reminds me of our first meeting,” Shao Fei chuckles, encircling Tang Yi’s waist with both arms. “We were stuck in a lift together too like this, do you remember? I can’t believe the both of us have the luck to be stuck here together, again.”

“… of course I remember,” Tang Yi exhales, letting himself lean into Shao Fei entirely and consciously forcing his fists to unclench. Then, “I really should get the lifts changed. Breaking down twice in three years?”

“That’s not too bad,” Shao Fei murmurs, resting his chin on Tang Yi’s nearest shoulder. “If we didn’t get stuck together three years ago, you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to know me and then you’d be down a secretary!”

After a short moment, Tang Yi laughs, “You mean when you nagged at me until I gave you a job?”

Shao Fei rolls his eyes, the banter on this subject familiar to him.

Now that he thinks about it, it’s a miracle and a half that they are here today, all because of a malfunctioning lift then.

The scene was almost identical to the current one. He was rushing for an interview in Shi Hai Corporation’s public relations department when the lift broke down, and it would be a few months later that Shao Fei found out why Tang Yi is so afraid of the dark and small, closet-sized spaces.

Then, however, Shao Fei began talking away to the handsome man crouched stiffly on the floor next to him, trying to distract him as much as possible, not knowing that this was the CEO of the company he was interviewing for. At the end of the whole ordeal, Tang Yi knew so much about Shao Fei that it would have been comical, if not for how much he hated the lack of light and fresh air in that metal box they used for vertical transportation.

When they finally got out, Shao Fei obviously missed his interview time by a few hours and with a soft sigh, he stuffed his printed resume into his bag and headed home instead.

Who knew that Tang Yi would give him a call himself a day later and ask if he was still in need of a job?

Half a year into his role, Shao Fei broke his arm protecting Tang Yi from an almost car accident, and Tang Yi forcibly moved him into his mansion.

He moved into Tang Yi’s house, into his bed and then into his heart and soul — and Shao Fei hasn’t left since.

“Don’t be afraid,” Shao Fei murmurs into his ear, and Tang Yi likes this even more than the previous experience he had with Shao Fei here, because today he’s being unabashedly held in Shao Fei’s arms. “You have me! Hold out just for a bit more.”

His heart aches for Tang Yi, and not for the first time, Shao Fei wonders if it’s acceptable to run to Yilan and sock Tang Yi’s foster father - from before Tang Yi found Tang Guo Dong, his adoptive father - in both the eyes and the nose for being cruel to a young, defenseless child then.

“Mnn,” Tang Yi nods in agreement, turning a little to look at Shao Fei. “I have you.”

Shao Fei’s phone finally runs out of battery less than an hour later and they sit for a while longer in absolute darkness, but the irrational fear that usually comes is absent today for some reason. Feeling the warmth of Shao Fei’s body around his and his arms hugging him so tightly, Tang Yi wonders if this is why he feels so anchored and safe.

They don’t have to wait too long for rescue. Hearing the metallic, loud clangs of equipment against the exterior of the lift, one moment they’re shrouded in darkness and the next, the door is pried open, allowing light to flood their surroundings.

Tang Yi’s eyes can barely open against the glare of the bright sunlight as his vision adjusts accordingly.

“Tang-zong! Meng-mishu! Are you both okay?” one of their staff asks, frantic as he stands behind the two firefighters trying to get them out.

“Trust the both of you to get stuck in a lift together again,” Jack is there too, and somehow that head of flaming red hair has never looked as welcoming as it does now. “The both of you okay?”

“We’re good,” Shao Fei answers next to him. Then to Tang Yi, “Tang Yi, let’s go!”

Tang Yi can only stare as Shao Fei offers his hand to him, his lovely smile so bright and his body almost glowing, bathed in the morning sunlight before Tang Yi’s eyes.

Ah, he thinks to himself, this is why.

Paying their audience no mind, Tang Yi puts his hand in Shao Fei’s, and uses the grip to tug Shao Fei in. Kissing him in front of prying eyes softly, tenderly.

“… what’s that for?” Shao Fei asks when they pull apart, his cheeks dusted with pink.

It’s not like their relationship is a secret at the company, but they’re not all that public with their affection for each other either.

“Nothing, just… I love you,” Tang Yi smiles back.

A few of their staff, including Jack, are gathered to watch them get rescued, and at the display of affection, plenty of ‘awwws’ and ‘oooohs’ go around. Jack opens his mouth to tease, as is expected of him, and Tang Yi chooses that moment to glare at him.

“Say one word and you can go without your bonus this year.”

Next to him, Shao Fei cannot help but burst out into mirthful laughter, his hand interlaced with Tang Yi’s.

Indeed, there is nothing to fear, not even the dark itself-

-as long as Shao Fei continues being his light.

Notes:

*zong from 总裁 - CEO *mishu from 秘书－ secretary

#history3: trapped #history 3: 圈套 #history3圈套 #history 3: trapped #tangfei #tang yi #meng shao fei #stuck in an elevator anyone?

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p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

Arcadia or Bust (16) Corner of Main and State

"Yeah, so mom…we made it to New Jersey, and we're all safe...but the Heartstone isn't really...impressive. So, we're bringing what we found home. See you soon!" In Which Arcadia welcomes back it's underground citizens, Jim gets used to mundane life as a Troll, and drama seeks them all out like a magnet.

Ao3 | FF.net

I’m rewatching Trollhunters, because it’s been like a year since I watched it, and the more I listen, the less the plot of Wizards makes sense to me. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it, but there’s some lore and continuity issues. That being said, I’ll continue to write this story using Trollhunter’s lore primarily, with a sprinkle of Wizards and 3Below lore as I see fit. :)

—

Jim had been through a lot of trauma in his life. At least since becoming the Trollhunter. But nothing was as jarring as looking down to his chest and seeing his ribcage, muscles, and heart beating.

They had taken the amulet from where it was nestled, and in return, left the gaping hole wide open, oozing with blood, and exposed. Could trolls get infections? Because humans certainly could, and this was just asking for infection.

He had been lying here alone for a few hours now. It was hard to tell exactly how long in the vast passage of time while drenched in pain.

When Colonel Kubritz appeared at his side, he wasn’t even surprised. Had he fallen asleep?

“How do you get this to work?” She bit. In her hand, she held the cleaned amulet, and it glowed, aching to be back with him.

“You can’t. You have to be chosen by it. Even if I die, it will pick someone else. And it might not be you.”

She slapped him for that, but it looked like it hurt her more than him, by the wince on her face. “Don’t give me that crap. Tell me how to work it!”

“Just speak the incantation inscribed.”

“We already tried that.”

He shrugged. “That’s all it is.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Teach me to use it, and I’ll let you go home.”

Jim sighed. It was pointless, but he may as well try.

—

Claire rang the doorbell at the designated house.

A surly man opened the door. “Yeah? What do you want? No solicitors! Unless you’re a girl scout…no, you’re too old. Are you with the tamale lady?”

“Hello sir, I’m not here to sell anything, I actually came to ask about the car you had totaled a few days ago.”

“Are you here to hunt down that devil that flipped my baby?!” He gestured to the smashed in car in the driveway. It looked drivable, but one bump away from death.

“Not quite...I’m actually here to fix it.”

“Fix it? You want to fix that? My mechanic couldn’t even fix it! And you want to! What are you, 15?”

“17, actually.”

“I doubt you have the experience for this, little lady.”

“Oh, I’m not a mechanic, I’m a sorceress.”

“A what now?”

“Sorceress, a witch! Do I have permission to fix your truck?”

“Girlie, if you can fix my truck, I’ll owe you a huge favor.”

“I was hoping you’d say that!” With a little skip, Claire went over to the truck and rested her hands on the hood. “Ad initium redire...” Her hands glowed purple, and pulsed against the metal, making it groan. Then it began to twist and crunch, popping out dents and welding pieces back together.

The old man stood in shock as his beloved truck knit back together, and when she was done, it was in perfect condition.

“How did—where did you—?!” He rounded the car, circling it like a vulture. “It’s perfect! You even took out that bump from years ago! You’re a miracle worker, girlie!”

Claire fell on her butt on the driveway, dizzy and winded. “Glad to help.”

“You alright?”

“Just a little winded. I’m still getting used to using magic, especially without a staff. It’s exhausting.”

“Well why don’t you take a seat up on the porch instead of the road? I’ll get you a beer.”

“I’m seventeen.”

“You’ve earned it!”

Claire chuckled to herself and climbed to her feet. She followed the man up his steps and took a seat on the porch swing while he went inside.

Only a minute later, he returned with beers in hand. “Here you are darlin’. Summertime ale. I’m partial to dark ale myself, but my neighbor got me this pale ale. It’s pretty good! You have a favorite?”

Claire took a sip and tried to hide the grimace. “I don’t really get to drink very often, unless it’s a special occasion.”

“Right right, we’ll keep it our little secret. Now then, I owe you a favor. You just saved me a whole chunk of change and a basket of anxiety. You must have something in mind since you offered?” He suddenly sat up straight. “Oh god, you don’t want my soul do you?”

Claire snorted. “No no, you can keep your soul! Don’t know what I would do with it anyways...You know the boy that damaged your truck in the first place?”

“I only saw a glimpse of him, that blue devil? What about him?”

“He’s actually my boyfriend, and he’s really very sweet and usually not like this. But he was...fed something he shouldn’t have had and it made him go berserk.”

“Crying shame.”

“I’ll say! So the army came in and took him away! They wouldn’t listen to us at all!”

“So what do you want me to do about it?”

“We are going to run a campaign to get him out. Hopefully, if we get enough attention on the issue, they’ll let him go.”

“Oh, I gotcha.”

“So if you could just...spread the truth around town? He’s actually the one that stopped that troll invasion back at the beginning of summer.”

The man looked surprised at that. “No kidding, that was him? Well, he’s a local hero! He’s been talked about a lot since then! Sure I’ll set the record straight! What’s this kid’s name?”

“Jim Lake Jr.”

“Got it! Don’t worry, I’ll bring it up at the lodge, and the rotary, and the chess club...”

—

The phone was ringing, he had been successfully patched through. Strickler sat in his office after hours, wanting to make the call as private as possible.

“Stricklander, I haven’t heard from you since the fall of the Janus order. What reason have you called on me?”

“Can’t I just call an old friend to catch up?”

“You? No.”

Walt cracked a smile. “Fine. I need a favor.”

“Changeling to changeling, or school principal to army general?”

“The latter, actually.”

The man on the other line laughed. “Color me intrigued.”

“You know of the human Trollhunter, correct?”

“Just what you wrote in your dossier, a human male, 16 years old, lives in Arcadia Oaks, California, turned half-troll by the wizard Merlin. Responsible for the death of Bular and Gunmar. Quite a remarkable young soul. Is there anything else to know?”

“He’s been captured by the United States Army.”

The man let out half a chuckle. “Captured? What dumb trouble did he get into?”

“His deadbeat father left out some cocaine for the boy to find, he thought it was trash, and ate it.”

Distantly on the other line, there was laughter, a strong bark of laughter that lasted far too long. When he came back, he was calm. “How unfortunate.”

“He’s a good kid. Why would there be a kilogram of cocaine in the trash anyways? I fail to see the humor in the situation.”

“Of course. So, I assume, he went on a rampage following his meal, and then attracted the attention of some of us?”

“So you haven’t heard about it?”

“Not where I’m stationed. But give me a moment.” The line went silent, only a very distant and quiet tapping of keys on a keyboard being tapped. Then the man returned. “I’m glad you told me about this. This incident hasn’t been reported to our database. That shows evidence of misconduct. Did you get the name of the commanding officer responsible, by chance?”

“Colonel Kubritz, I believe.”

More typing. “Area 49-B.”

“That name was also passed around.”

“Technically not my jurisdiction, and since she didn’t report it, I’m not supposed to know about it.”

“I’m afraid you will officially know about it soon.”

“Oh?”

“His friends and family, myself included, are going to put on a protest for his freedom. Drawing attention to the situation.”

That echoing laughter was back again.

“It wasn’t my idea, in case you were wondering.”

“I know, you wouldn’t come up with something so bold. Regardless, go ahead in through with it. I’ll make sure whatever protest happens gets brought to my superior’s attention, and then I will take it from there.”

“Thanks. I will owe you one.”

“Oh come now, Walter, we Changelings that survived the Fall of the Janus order have to stick together. Besides, I heard rumors that you’re caring for my familiar?”

“He’s still in the cradle stone, and the moment. One baby at a time, for now.”

“Then we’re even. Besides, this is the most interesting thing that’s happened in a while. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Your kindness is refreshing. I’m glad Gunmar didn’t eat you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“We’ll be in touch then, Samuel.”

“Of course, Walter.”

—

“How goes the car repair?” Asked Merlin, as he met up with Toby and Claire in the park.

“Ugh, exhausting. First I stopped at the mechanics, and they’re still backed up with fixing other cars. Apparently, Gunmar’s army did a number and backed them up for months. But they gave me the names of all the clients who got totaled from Jim. I had to hit the scrap yard for four of them, and I just finished another two in driveways.”

“How many does that leave you with?”

“Seven more,” she sighed. “How goes the road work?”

“It goes. Now come along, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He didn’t wait for them to follow as he turned and started walking away.

Sharing a dubious look, Toby and Claire quickly caught up with him. He led them to a bookstore, where a young man was sweeping outside.

“Hisirdoux, my faithful and loyal apprentice—“

“You're damn straight I’m loyal!” He shouted. “Where have you been? I’ve been cleaning tables for the last 900 years!”

“Calm yourself boy, I’m here now, aren’t I? And I need your help.”

“Finally! What is it? Just say the word!”

“I need you to go with Miss Claire Nuñez and help her restore recently smashed vehicles.”

“What?”

“Or, you can repair street damage.”

Douxie crossed his arms. “What is this? I saw what happened! There were trolls, and evidence of Morgana! And now you need my help? To clean up, several months later?”

“That is correct.”

“Why didn’t you call for me back then?!”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot? About me?”

“Oh come now, don’t take it personally. I was busy trying to prepare the Trollhunter to fight Gunmar. And get my magic back from Morgana.”

Douxie seemed to become more sympathetic at that. “Morgana stole your magic?”

“Yes, but it’s all in the past now. Everything is fine. Well, not really. Seems that the US Army has declared the Trollhunter as a menace to society. We must get the trust of the city on our side if we are to get them to trust us, and agree that his capture is unjust.”

“Please,” said Claire. “We need all the help we can get.”

Douxie sighed. “Alright. Afterwards, you’re training me again.” He gave Merlin a hard look. “And no amateur magic either. I’ve been doing the same drills for 900 years. I think I’m ready for more advanced work.”

“Oh, you will be. Starting with helping Miss Nuñez field her shadow magic.”

Douxie looked at her, in awe. “You’re practicing shadow magic? Truly?”

“It’s a recent development…”

“She took Morgana’s Skathe-Hrün, and wielded it without any training. Because of that she has a tether to Morgana in the Shadow realm, who has been teaching her ever so slightly. I’m not allowed to train her, but she could use the guidance of a Wizard in the physical realm. Do you understand Hisirdoux?”

“I do, and I’ll be happy to teach her…I’m just…I’ll need a moment or two to digest the sentence you just said.”

“Well, don’t take too long, we have a Trollhunter to rescue!”

—

There was a heavy knock on the door, which was never a good thing. Especially nowadays.

Still, Barbara went to the door.

Standing there was Detective Scott and James Lake Sr.

“Does this belong to you?” Asked the detective.

“I don’t claim him, no.”

Her almost ex-husband smiled at her, pleadingly, “Please Babs?”

“What is he even doing out? You arrested him!”

“About that…” Detective Scott winced. “We don’t have enough to keep him on.”

“What!” She shouted. “He confessed in front of a bunch of people!”

“Which would be helpful if we had a case for a trial. But as it stands, he doesn’t actually have any drugs on him. And we don’t have a confession on tape. So…we’re shit out of luck.”

“Oh come on Louis, you know the cocaine came from him! Where else would Jim have gotten it from?”

“Look, the chief’s not thrilled that we didn’t arrest the guy responsible for trashing the town, but we’re supposed to arrest someone else without evidence?”

Barbara threw her hands up in the air. “With probable cause!”

“That doesn’t work with drug dealers. He’s clean, Barbara. All the blood tests came back clean too.”

“Ugh.”

The house shook slightly, and Barbara felt the floor bow behind her. “Is there a problem, officer?” Asked Draal.

“Nothing you can help with, Draal. Thank you.” Barbara sighed. “James is not being charged.”

“But he is a criminal, this degenerate flesh bag poisoned the Trollhunter! He should face banishment for his crimes!”

James withered a little with the glare Draal gave him.

“Well,” said Officer Scott. “Maybe you can keep an eye on him from now on. If you have evidence that he is dealing, like physical traces of cocaine on the premises, call us. But for now, there’s not much else we can do.”

“This is ludicrous.”

“I know, I’m sorry Barbara. How is Jim?”

She frowned. “You haven’t heard? The army came and collected him from the hospital!”

Louis sputtered. “The army came?!”

“Yes!”

“Where were they when Gunmar was terrorizing us?” He scoffed. “Again, sorry Barbara, I can’t help you here.”

“It’s alright. We’ve got a plan.”

“Love to hear it, but I’ve got to get back to the office. I’m sure Toby will tell Darci, and she’ll tell me. Good luck!” And he left James on the porch.

“Babs, I’m sorry…”

“Save it.” Barbara scoffed, but allowed him in the house.

Draal never took his eyes off the man.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know I have no more supply. And after Rudy found out what happened to my last Kilo, she’s not getting anymore for me. So…”

“I’ll have to thank Jim for keeping a kilogram of Cocaine off the streets of Arcadia. We have a fairly low rate of drug use around here, and we don’t need you to ruin people’s lives.”

James sighed, knowing he had dodged a huge bullet by being let off the hook. He’d rather deal with his wife than with his ex-associates in jail any day. “I think I’ve still ruined people’s lives anyway.” He walked into the living room, only to halt at the signs on the table.

Release Jim Lake Jr.

Justice for Jim

Let Lake Go!

“Babs, what is all this?”

“That’s part of our plan to free Jim! I’m friends with the councilwoman, and she suggested that we campaign for his release. Bringing a lot of unwanted attention onto his capture will stir the government to let him go!”

James jutted out his jaw, a sign of barely concealed rage. An expression Barbara had grown very used to in the last few months. “So, you’re going to put his name—my name in the news? You’re going to broadcast what city we live in?”

“Yes.”

He whirled on her, grabbing her arm. “Babs, people are looking for me! Horrible, mean, and ruthless people! If you put his name out there, they’ll know where to look!”

“All the better! Then they can come take you off my hands!”

“You don’t understand! I owe them a lot of money, and they’ll take it anyway they can! That includes extorting you, Jim, and whoever else they connect with me!”

Draal stepped in, removing his hand from Barbara’s arm. “This house is under my protection. If anyone dare tries to enter, they will be dealt with swiftly.”

“You don’t know what these men are capable of.”

“I assure you, I’ve decimated armies of flesh bags in my day. These men are no different.”

Barbara smiled. “If you’re really that scared, I hear Vermont is lovely this time of year.”

James just narrowed his eyes, before storming out of the room.

—

The first rally took place from 3pm to dusk, starting from after school, and leading up to when Trolls would be able to participate. Granted, it was only a handful of people, but standing in the middle of downtown did garner a lot of attention. More than a dozen people walking past had stopped to ask about the cause. They were then given a short synopsis of the situation, as it pertained to them:

“Jim is a 16 year old student who was chosen by the trolls to be our protector. He willingly gave up his humanity to defeat Gunmar the Black, the monstrous troll that attacked the city at the beginning of the summer. Now, he looks like a troll, and was sabotaged to go into a rage and damage the city. The US army took him away without a trial! He’s a hero to the city, and deserves fair treatment!”

Reactions ranged from:

“Oh, he stopped that thing?”

To:

“Oh my god! He’s just a child!”

Overwhelmingly, there was no negative feedback, at least in person. But it was only day one.

—

“This daylight...is it significant?” The colonel asked, as she circled his table.

“It’s just a name.” Jim lied. “A sword with a name is stronger than one without.”

“Interesting. Interesting indeed. According to my notes, trolls turn to stone in daylight. Any correlation there?”

So she already knew? Then what was the point? Was she just playing with him?

“I’m the Trollhunter, and I fight bad trolls. It would make sense to name my sword after something they’re afraid of.”

She hummed. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you afraid of daylight?”

“Why would I be?”

The colonel laughed. “Oh Jim Lake Jr. You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met. You are honest and forthcoming with truths that work in your favor. You freely told me of your transformation, and of your victory against a Troll tyrant. But now that I’m edging on the topic of your weakness, you clam up and give me vague answers. I can do this all day, beast. What does daylight do to you?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t do anything to me.”

“Really? Even as a troll? That’s interesting.”

“It’s fortunate.”

“I would say so. Though, now you’ve got me curious. These burns on your skin…where did they come from?” She dragged her fingernail over one of the dark marks.

Jim winced. “I don’t know. I wasn’t aware in my rage state.”

“Then you won’t mind if I find out for myself?” She crooked a finger towards the shadows. Jim could hear the creak of wheels before a lamp with several fixtures was wheeled forward.

“Oh no…”

“UV lights, all different wattages. Let’s see what works the best, hmm?”

—

ARCADIA TRIBUNE

Justice for Jim

By Nadja Chamack

Who is Jim Lake Jr. anyway? This is a question I asked myself as I drove downtown three days ago. No doubt, you’ve seen the crowd of students and teachers holding signs on the corner of Main and State Street. It’s pretty hard to miss, quite honestly. Among the students, there’s also Councilwoman Nuñez, and resident Troll Mascot, ARRRGH! Signs range from ‘Justice for Jim’ to ‘Free our Lake’.

But who is Jim Lake Jr.? And what happened? A precursory search on my end showed only a scant few facts. Jim is a student at Arcadia Highschool, in his Junior year. He was nominated as Spring Fling King last year, and played the part of Romeo in the school play. His criminal record seemed pretty clean too. A misdemeanor for scratching a rental scooter was all that showed up. But hey, who hasn’t done that?

So I went to the source, his family and friends campaigning for him. On Saturday, the group was downtown, campaigning all day long, so I had the chance to interview each and every person about why they were there.

Turns out, Jim Lake Jr. might be the most amazing person in Arcadia.

From his mother, Dr. Barbara Lake, I learned that Jim is an Arcadia native, born and raised here. He enjoys cooking gourmet food, working on his vespa, and acting.

Oh, and he’s the first human Trollhunter.

What? You’ve never heard of a Trollhunter? Me neither. But Barbara and Blinky, another resident Troll, gave me the scoop.

You all remember that night at the beginning of the summer that we all promised not to talk about? Well, I’m going to talk about it. In fact, I’m here to give you all the answers you’ve been craving.

Many months before that fateful night, a new Trollhunter was chosen, after the previous one had perished. “The Trollhunter is chosen according to his mettle, by the amulet of the Trollhunter, as created by Merlin, the wizard of Arthurian legend. Jim was chosen after the fall of Kanjigar, his predecessor. Jim is the first human to be chosen, also the smallest and weakest. But, he was the first to defeat Bular, son of Gunmar!” Said his mentor, Blinky. None of this made any sense to me at first, though it was said with great enthusiasm.

It turns out, the trolls that we’ve gotten used to seeing around town, mostly ARRRGH, are ‘good’ trolls. The bad trolls, ‘Gum-gums’ are what invaded our town and destroyed my car. The Trollhunter’s whole job is to fight off these bad trolls, and gnomes, and goblins, and everything else that goes bump in the night. And so he did. The Gum-Gums invaded from the ‘Darklands’, being led by a fearsome troll named Gunmar the Black, the Skullcrasher, the Dark Lord…he had a lot of names, and it was obviously a bad dude. Gunmar had plans to invade the whole world by blotting out the sun, a.k.a the eclipse we saw. And he would have gotten away for it too, if it weren’t for those meddling kids!

Mainly Jim Lake Jr. and his friends.

And how does a sixteen year old defeat a couple millennia old, bloodthirsty, all powerful tyrant? With a fancy sword? Close. With some magical armor? Closer. By giving up a part of his humanity and becoming a half-human, half-troll hybrid? Now you’re getting it! Yes, to protect Arcadia, to protect us, Jim Lake Jr. allowed himself to be changed. You may have seen him around town. Blue skin, big horns...okay, I just described most of the trolls that are around here.

“Jim works the night shift at my store,” said Stu Harding, owner of Thrifty Furnishings. “He’s a very hard worker, and always willing to do the heavy lifting that is hard for the other employees to do.”

“Despite his appearance, Jim ultimately decided to attend school,” said Principal Walter Strickler. “After the school found out about why he had missed so many days of school, they were willing to move him onto the next grade to be with his peers. He was a good student before all this, and he fought really hard to keep his grades up regardless. We felt he should still have the opportunity to graduate. We were looking forward to having him on our football team, and in our spring production of Beauty and the Beast.”

So what happened to Jim? And why is there such a big campaign for his freedom?

Well, the truth is that Jim is a victim of unfortunate circumstances. In more ways than one, obviously. Trolls eat our trash. That’s why Arcadia has such a small carbon footprint! (Be sure to thank ARRRGH next time you see him!) And this trait was adopted by Jim too, when he was transformed.

“He just picked a bunch of items out of the trash. Cans, an old sock, and what looked like a VHS wrapped in duct tape,” said Jim’s best friend, Toby Dolmzalski. “It was a normal lunch for him. But right in the middle of gym class, he turned crazy town banana pants and took off! I had never seen Jim act like that! Ever!”

After an 8 hour rage through town, Jim collapsed and was taken to the hospital for evaluation. It turns out what Jim had ingested turned out to be a kilogram of pure cocaine!

At this time, it is unknown where the cocaine came from, or if it was planted purposefully. (Seriously, who throws away a kilogram of cocaine?)

But the damage that Jim caused was extensive enough to catch the attention of the US army, who has taken Jim into captivity from the hospital. No trial, no rights, they even took him while he was unconscious. His friends and family have not heard from him since.

“I’m so worried,” said girlfriend, Claire Nuñez. “He was injured from the battle with Gunmar, and didn’t completely heal. In the hospital, he was covered in burns from the sun. I have no idea if they’re caring for him properly, or dissecting him like some creature. But he deserves so much better than this. He saved our town, he saved my life, and the life of my baby brother. That’s why we won’t rest until he’s home!”

“Not bad,” said ARRRGH, long time friend of Jim. “Good troll have bad days, best trolls have worse days. Jim need some good days.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself, ARRRGH.

Friends and family of Jim are asking everyone share #JusticeforJim on social media, hoping to get the attention of someone in charge. All the damage caused by Jim has been repaired, and there were no casualties from his attack.

Of course, the whole ‘troll’ aspect of this story has to be a local legend. So when sharing it to social media, kindly leave that part out.

—

“C-Bomb!” Mary shouted from the other end of the hall. She came running and almost crashed into Claire and Toby, holding her phone up in the air. “My twitter feed is blowing up, girl! Look at all of this!” She held the screen up so they could see.

“Citizen abducted by the government, is this China or North Korea? Neither! It’s the US! #JusticeforJim”

“Imagine if this was your son. So sad, and so scary! #JusticeforJim”

“This is real life, not science fiction #JusticeforJim”

“Whoa, where did these all come from?” Asked Claire. “What did you post?”

“Did you know Snapper Karr did a report on it!?”

“Snapper Karr? From KTTV in LA?”

“Yes! Thankfully, he left out the whole troll thing. I’ll send you a link. In his story, Jim is just a kid that has a rare genetic disorder that makes him look different, and so the government took him away!”

Claire winced. “This is…kind of spiraling out of control.”

“I don’t know why you’re worrying, Claire,” said Darci. “We want people talking about Jim getting abducted. It doesn’t matter if the world outside Arcadia doesn’t have all the facts. They still know he’s been taken away without a trial, and that’s all that’s important. Besides, Jim doesn’t want the whole world knowing about Trolls, right?”

She nodded. “As long as this works, I’ll be happy.”

“And sensationalist stories like this blow up for like a week, and then they die out and are forgotten. This won’t last.” Mary waved her hand. “It should work long enough to get Jimmy Jam out though.” Then she squealed. “OMG you know what we should do?! We should totally have a welcome home party! Or-or a parade! Like they have for veterans!”

“Mary, I don’t think—“

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it! You’re not the only one with ties to the city!” And she hurried off, texting frantically.

“What’s up Claire? I would have thought you’d be ecstatic the hashtag went viral.” Asked Toby.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am happy. And I’m happy that Snapper Karr chalked the troll thing up to local legend or superstition…but I can’t help but worry that something bad is going to come out of this.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling.” She scoffed and went to her locker. “It’s dumb, don’t worry about it.”

No sooner had she said that, did Strickler appear. “Claire, Toby, come with me.”

“What?”

“I’ve already spoken with your teachers, now come along.”

Claire and Toby shared a look, but followed regardless.

—

They were led to the parking lot, where a black van with tinted windows waited, a huge red flag, if there ever was one.

“Umm…” said Toby.

“Don’t worry.” Strickler assured.

A man in an army uniform stepped out of the driver seat. “Walter, good to see you again.”

“Glad to see you as well, Samuel. And thank you for following through with your promise.”

“As I said, this is the most interesting thing to happen in a while.” He glanced at the two teenagers in attendance. “We’re just waiting for his mother, correct?”

“She should be here soon.”

Toby muttered to Claire, “Who’s Jorgen Von Strangle over here?”

“No idea.”

And just like that, Barbara pulled into the parking lot, haphazardly parked, and ran over to them, still in her scrubs. “I came as soon as I could! We’re going to get Jim?!”

“What?!” Screamed Toby. “We’re rescuing him?!”

“That is the goal,” the man answered. “I’m General Samuel Attila. I’ve been given authorization to intervene in this situation, given that this project, whatever it is, hasn’t been officially recorded. But, bear in mind, you may not like what you see. We may be bringing home Jim, or just his body. I don’t know. So if anyone is uncomfortable with that idea, I suggest you stay behind.”

“I’m going,” Said Toby. “No matter what.”

“Me too,” said Claire. “It’ll hurt, but I want to know what happened to him.”

“Alright, then let’s hurry. The facility is about an hour away.” He ushered everyone into the van, which had two front seats, two benches along the walls, and a gurney in the middle. As soon as everyone was buckled, they headed out.

“Hey, if you know Mr. Strickler, does that mean you’re a…?”

“A what, Toby?” Asked Walt, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“A…man of culture?”

“Yes, I am a changeling.”

Toby exhaled. “Okay, it’s like super hard to ask that question when you don’t know who knows, you know?”

“I owe the Trollhunter a debt of gratitude for stopping Gunmar. After he ate the entirety of the Janus order, we the few that weren’t present for his return stayed in hiding. Had Gunmar taken over the world, my death as a traitor would have been slow and painful. We were thinking about sending him a thoughtful gift basket, but I think this is more fun. I love to bully those in lower ranks. The fleshbags get a few pretty badges and think they’re invincible. I love watching them cower!”

Toby leaned closer to Claire. “He was so nice and helpful, I was beginning to wonder if he was actually a changeling.”

“Same! But I actually feel better knowing he’s got ulterior motives, and that they have nothing to do with us.”

“Have you heard from Nomura lately?” Samuel asked Walter.

“She was in Arcadia for a while. She helped with the fight with Gunmar. Right now, I believe she’s on her way back from New Jersey.”

“New Jersey? What was she doing out there?”

“After Morgana and Gunmar destroyed the Heartstone, Jim and Blinky went in search of a new one.”

“Oh, yes. I forgot there were rumors of a source in New Jersey. Did they find it?”

“Yep,” said Claire. “But it wasn’t very big, so we brought it back to Arcadia in a truck. The rest of the tribe is making their way back on foot.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Samuel nodded. “You’re both very lucky. Not many Changeling’s are allowed in Trollmarket.”

“Now that Gunmar’s out of the picture, I’m sure you could visit too!” Toby exclaimed, before getting elbowed in the gut by Claire.

“It’d be nice to see it once. I’m sad I didn’t get to see the Heartstone in its glory, but such is life.”

The rest of the ride continued in relative silence. Strickler and Samuel spoke to each other, mostly catching up. But Toby, Claire, and Barbara were far too anxious to keep up with the conversation.

There were no windows in the back of the vehicle, so there was no way of knowing where they were. From the front, they looked to be in a weaving forest trail.

Then there were huge cement walls in front of them.

Samuel pulled in the front gate.

The man at the gate didn’t look up from his computer. “You’re not authorized to be here.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t recognize your vehicle, so I know you don’t have clearance.”

Samuel sat up a little straighter, glaring at the soldier at the gate. “How about you scan my badge first, and then tell me if I have clearance, Lieutenant.”

The soldier gave a little shrug and reached out for the badge, his eyes widening as he caught a glance at the four stars on the man’s shoulder. “Oh.”

“Problem?”

“No, sir. I just…I don’t need to scan your badge, you can go in.”

“Thank you. At ease soldier.”

Toby held back a snicker.

“And, let Colonel Kubritz know she has company.”

“Yes sir.”

“As you were.”

The gate rolled open, and they pulled through.

It seemed like Samuel’s message was received pretty quickly, because the woman that had taken Jim was waiting for them, flanked by soldiers with strange weapons.

“Stay in the car.” He told everyone, before getting out.

“I was not aware of any sort of inspection. You are not my commanding general, and therefore not welcome here. This facility holds highly dangerous equipment and confidential projects.”

“Stand down, Colonel. I am here on behalf of general Adele. I’m here to recover Jim Lake Jr. General Adele will be speaking to you about your discharge.”

“What are you talking about?” She demanded.

“You kidnapped a teenage boy from a hospital. Surely you didn’t think that wouldn’t go unnoticed? I have video evidence of you leaving the hospital with him.”

“He’s not a normal boy—“

“I’d say so! His whole town is hailing him as a hero for saving them from an invasion! I thought this facility was for research on protecting Earth from invaders. And you’re punishing a boy for saving a town?”

“He also destroyed it. Don’t give into their little campaign. Jim Lake Jr. may have done something good once, but that doesn’t stop him from being a monster.”

“I was just in Arcadia, Colonel. There is no damage. There’s no lawsuits against Jim Lake Jr. There’s not even any pending arrests.”

“I have video evidence of his destruction!” She barked.

“Then let the local police handle it.”

She growled, then commanded her men to stand down. “Fine. But if he does this again, no one will stop me from taking him.”

“Actually,” he clarified with a smirk. “You’re being discharged. So you won’t have any means to take him again.”

Her mouth opened in shock, as she fought to find an argument.

But he was a general, he was above her.

“Now, Jim Lake Jr.?”

She grumbled something and started off towards a big central building.

Samuel was quick to beckon the others out of the car to follow him, and headed towards the same building as Kubritz.

When Barbara reached them, she spoke, “you didn’t hurt my son, did you?”

Kubritz didn’t even look at her. “I don’t have to share information with civilians.”

Claire clenched her fists in anger, a black haze coming over her hands.

But Toby simply patted her on the back to ground her.

Colonel Kubritz led them through the research facility, ignoring their questions.

They reached the room Jim was being held in, and she entered her code to open the door.

Of course, Jim wasn’t the only thing in the room, being surrounded by specimens of all sorts of living creatures, but he was right in the center, with a spot light right on him.

“Jim!” Claire shouted first as she ran to him.

The poor boy was naked, lying on his back and strapped to the table with thick iron bonds. His wound from Morgana wasn’t the worst on him anymore, as he was covered in blackened burned spots. The spot that had the amulet was now just a hole in his chest, that went right down to the ribs. Claire could see his heart beating, and his lungs moving, thank god.

“Jim...” she cried, seeing the carnage.

“What did you do to him?!” Toby shouted at the Colonel, but she didn’t respond.

“Honey? Jim? Can you hear me?” Barbara asked, as she assessed the damage.

His eyes opened ever so slightly. “Mom? Is that you? Are you...really here?”

“Yeah kiddo,” she wiped some tears from her eyes. “It’s me, I’m here. Toby, Claire, and Walt are here too. We’re going to take you home.”

His smile was just a hint, and he stated, “I’m tired.”

“I’m sure you are. We’re going to get you fixed up!” She turned to the Colonel. “Get me a gurney or a wheelchair!”

She scoffed. “I don’t take orders from civilians.”

Samuel interceded. “Then get me a soldier who isn’t completely incompetent! If you’re going to continue to endanger the life of this young man, then I suggest you get out of my sight before I endanger yours.”

The Colonel didn’t waver, though a tremor went down her spine. “Lieutenant!” She called.

A man hurried into the room, standing at attention.

Kubritz just gave a roll of the eyes. “Follow whatever order the general gives you.”

“But—“

“No, I’m done.” With one last glare to Samuel, she added, “I'll be sending my evidence to General Adele, then we’ll see who’s the one putting the nation in danger.”

“Go ahead, I’ve already given my report.”

She growled at him, turned and left without another word.

The lieutenant just stood at attention in front of Samuel instead. “Orders sir?”

“Get someone to fetch the gurney from the back of our van, and send for the medic! And get someone to get these shackles off this kid!”

“Sir yes sir!”

Meanwhile, Claire stood right by Jim’s side, holding his hand, brushing the bangs away from his face and combing his hair with her fingers. He had a pretty strong fever.

“You’re going to be alright Jim. We’re going to take good care of you.”

“I’m…cold…” He breathed.

Barbara found some vinyl gloves nearby and got to work examining her boy. “I don’t know about the Troll half, but this tissue looks alright. I don’t see any infection yet, or any tissue death. Of course, we need to get this covered immediately.”

“Where’s the amulet?” Asked Walt. “That’s what’s missing.”

“The amulet!” Barbara addressed Samuel. “His amulet, we have to find it!”

He nodded, “we can’t let these psychos have it. They have no idea what magic it possesses, even without being the chosen wielder.”

Only a beat passed before the army medic came with the gurney, and another soldier came with a crowbar to undo the shackles.

“Lieutenant, we’re looking for an amulet that came with Jim. It’s what’s missing from his chest.”

The Lieutenant blanched. “I don’t know anything about it…I can ask the Colonel?”

“She won’t tell.”

The shackles fell free from Jim’s limbs, but he didn’t seem to register it.

“Alright,” said Barbara, “Let’s move him onto the gurney. We can worry about the amulet later.” It took everyone to lift him and carefully slide him over. Then, he was covered up to his stomach with a blanket.

“You’re going home, Jim. Mi amor, you’re safe now.” Claire whispered, kissing his forehead.

“Hmm…” Jim weakly groaned. “…for the…glory…” But before he could finish, he fell back into sleep.

#arcadia or bust #tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #troll jim #jim lake junior #claire nunez #toby domzalski #fanfiction

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