#also a bunch of coats and stuff that were in bags and hung up away from the mice that im gonna wash and donate <3 <3 <3

[dogbunni]

I am way too autistic and disabled for this (cleaning my house)

[pbandjesse]

Today was a really nice day. I am not feeling great right now but it's not clouding how nice of a day I had. I am just looking forward to sleep now.

I didn't sleep amazing. I went to sleep with a heating pad and woke up a bunch from being the wrong temperature or just having weird body feelings. I don't remember James leaving for work. I would sleep until 830. And laid in bed for a bit. But I had things to do.

I set an alarm for 1145 and went to get dressed. I figured if I wasn't paying attention I would know with the alarm when it was time to get ready to go. Because my big plan was to organize the studio closet.

I made the bed first. Then remembered James made me an omelet before they left for work because they love me so much. I had my nice breakfast in the kitchen. Was slightly disappointed when I realized our soda stream needed new CO2. So my soda was mostly flat. But whatever.

I jumped into my organization after that. The biggest goal today was to clean the closet enough to get all my coats in there again so I could take down the garment rack in the studio. And it went so well! I had to move a lot of stuff. Shift things and reorganize our summer shelf where our kayak and inner tubes are. I hung up our lifejackets and was able to get all the coats and sweaters up and felt amazing.

In sorting in there I also moved out the wire rack that I had in there and put it in the living room to decide on later. I shifted my other wire rack to the place the clothing rack was and it's so much better layout. It actually lets me get to my printmaking table. And I would really like to start doing more prints. I have an idea possibly and I would really like to start playing around with that soon.

I had to pull out guest bedding bag down from James's shelf so I also just made their shelf a little more neat. And I decided that we need a skinny shelf for their bobble heads because they are hard to keep on the shelf in there. Taking up a bunch of space but not looking amazing in a group. A project for another day. I would take all of our Lego pokémon to put in the new wall case I hung like a month ago. And it's looking good! Feels more put together.

I would take a moment to put some clothes in storage and pull some others out. Lots of velvets and thicker fabrics. I made outfits for the week. I was doing really good.

I took a cereal break. And then jumped into moving the furniture outside of the kitchen to make space for the other wire rack and moved the cookbooks to that. It really makes the hallway outside of the kitchen look really finished.

I had a few more things to put away in the studio. I hugged on sweetp. I ate some strawberries. It was a really nice morning.

My alarm went off and I got ready to go. Put on my shoes and got my bag and was on the road by noon.

I drove to amazing glaze to get me and Celia's projects. I was so excited to see them and they look amazing. We had trouble finding Celia's but we did and the girl who worked there said they both looked awesome. She wrapped them up for me and I headed out.

I got to awah and it was weird at first. Firstly there was a ton of food out? Not stale so it was not there lon. And then there were backpacks and jackets and sweaters super super strange. We would clean it up but it was annoying. Me and Naomi packed all the food in ziplock bags so it wouldn't become garbage. We would learn that it was because there was a teen leadership program this morning but it was still really strange because like. We use this space every week. Don't leave it a big mess.

The class was really fun though. Doing clay was a blast and it was fun explaining pinchpots to everyone. Some people's ghosts worked better then others. Some people didn't make ghosts and made pumpkins and other things. But it was fun! I enjoyed talking to Naomi. Mary Ellen had to leave basically right away because she was going to the opera. I hope she has the best time.

I had a bagel I was eating while we worked with the clay. I absolutely ate clay. But my blood sugar never went super low like it does every week. So that was nice. And I really just enjoyed chatting with my students and their parents and cares. It was a really nice day.

We finished up and cleaned up. Another awah staff member came in to work on a mural so we didn't need to alarm the building. So I was able to get out of there really quickly.

Callie let me know she would head to my apartment at 320. And so I went home and cleaned up. And then Charlotte was texting me that her and Margot were down stairs. I had just lit an candle so the apartment smelled really nice and with it being so organized I felt good getting to show it off.

It was nice sitting with them and giving the tour. Sweetp was being mostly nice. And then Callie was there!!

The main reason Callie was coming over was because I had given her a frog plush a few weeks ago and she somehow lost him! And apparently she loves this frog I gave her and holds him and squeezes him all the time. So she has been really sad. And now I was going to make her a new one as close to the original as I could.

Sadly I did not have the same fabric. So Callie picked a new one. Margot and Charlotte would join us in the studio. And it was fun going through the steps. First we made the very rectangular torso. Then sewed and stuffed a d put eyes on. I need to get more medium size eyes. I only have large and small right now. But we found one good set. Next was legs and that took more fussing. Width and length and placement. But it was fun.

They were all talking about tarot so I brought out the two major arcana sets I drew a few years ago. I really think that might be my next big project. Digitizing the bear deck. We will have to see.

We finished the frog pretty quickly! And Callie says he's perfect. His tentative name is pjj, and we love him for being so rectangular and also that he can sit up on his own.

Margot and Charlotte would have to leave soon. Margot wanted to buy some stickers so we ran down to the car. And she got two stickers and a bear. I really appreciate her supporting me and my work. She's awesome.

They would leave but Callie would stay. And we talked about the drama in her life. It was really nice just hanging out together. Even if Sweetp was making my allergies go crazy.

She would stay for a while. Leaving around 530. I promised her to take an allergy pill and feel better quick.

It would ebb and flow though. I had things I wanted to do. I worked at my desk for a bit. James had gotten home while we were sewing but had been doing a fantasy draft so they were in the other room. But now they were here and making us spaghetti.

After we ate I started working on a cut and sew devil costume. It would take me a good hour and a half to sew the whole thing but I really only like the hood. I think it's so cute. And it was fun to make something new! It's great.

I still wasn't feeling amazing though. A combination of Sweetp fur and dust and sitting on the ground cutting fabric I'm sure. I would go and take a shower and washed my hair. I still wasn't feeling great but it helped a little.

Heather would text me that her brother is offering me his RV for free. It needs work but if Alexi says I can keep it at camp for a while I might have an RV?? What even is my life sometimes??

So that's a fun way to end the day. Now I am in bed. And very much ready to sleep. I hope this small headache goes away soon. And I can sleep easy.

And I hope you can too. We have a busy day tomorrow. With possible walk in Drs appointment and my meeting with creative alliance and maybe we'll go to the zoo to ride the train?? Who knows. But I hope it's a nice day.

Sleep well everyone. Be safe and wash your hands.

[unknowncountrygirl]

Drunken Confession: Ben

Jae arrived in his typical outlandish behavior, wielding two large bottles of Fire Whiskey.

“Look alive boys, our Thursday night just got a lot more interesting!”

“Where did-” Charlie started but waved his hand, “you know what, never mind, I don't want to know.”

“I got cups in my trunk! Gather round boys, it's going to be a good night! Hope you don't have anywhere to go early in the morning.” He summoned his and Murphy's side tables and put them back to back to make a small table in the middle of the room. He then placed the two, rather large bottles on the tables, and went to dig in his trunk.

“This is?” Orion questioned, picking up one of the bottles.

“Irish brewed Firewhiskey, aged in barrels for years. It's the good stuff.” Jae mentioned, placing a array of cups on the table.

“You and I have different ideas of what good stuff is.” Murphy eyed the amber liquid that Orion was sloshing around.

Charlie got off his bed and walked over, looking at the small shot glasses.

“So... You brought it for us all to try?” He asked innocently.

“I have something actually more interesting in mind.” Jae said slyly. “Unless you are all a bunch of softies.”

“Hardly.” Ben replied deadpanned, picking up the second bottle to crack it open, and began to pour it into the glasses, filling them to the top. “What were you thinking Jae?”

“We've all known one another years now, lets get to know each other a little bit better.”

“This is your way of just trying to get information from us that you can blackmail us with later.” Murphy looked up at Jae, feeling very suspicious of him. Jae said nothing, just smiled slyly and took his shot before pouring himself another.

“Take a drink if you have ever used a unregulated potion, I'll go first.” He took a large gulp of the amber liquid. Ben lifted an eyebrow, but played along and poured himself a drink before taking a drink. Charlie, Orion, and Murphy simply nodded as they were handed their own drinks, not touching the liquid to their lips.

“Take a drink if you've ever... Seen a dragon?” Charlie tried. Jae, Ben, and Charlie took long sips.

“You are going to have to include something that we have done.” Murphy almost pouted with a smile on his lips. “Like if you've been voted most dashing Quidditch Commentator.” It was silly, but an excuse to take a drink himself.

About 20 questions, some laughter, light conversation, and the entire first bottle of Fire Whiskey, most of the boys were starting to feel the effects. Ben and Jae held their liquor the best, more then likely because this was not either one's first time drinking underage. Charlie and Murphy were about one drink away from being completely gassed, and Orion was one away from finding world peace.

“Oh, I've got a good one.” Jae slurred slightly. “Take a drink if you've ever had a crush-” All the boys lifted their drinks, but Jae finished his thought, “on Iris!” They all laughed lightly, but the laughter died out when all five of the boys continued to take a shot.

Murphy and Charlie almost immediately sobered up, and Ben froze like a statue.

“Soooo, we have all had dreams of Iris Rosewood?” Orion clarified.

“Is that a question we are suppose to drink to?” Murphy questioned, looking down into his glass.

“More clarification, perhaps I shall word it this way...” Orion drawled, “if you have a crush on Iris.”

Again, the room fell silent as all five boys took another shot.

A couple of the cleared their throats, Jae coughed into his hand. It had become incredibly awkward, incredibly fast.

“This is uncomfortable.” Charlie broke the silence.

“You all may have crushes on her... But I've loved her.” Ben admitted, swirling his Firewhiskey in his cup. “We have been through too much, and she's been there every step of the way for me.” The other boys stopped murmuring and looked at him. “She brought color and vibrancy into my world and I repaid her by hurting her. Hell, all I ever wanted to do is make sure no one ever hurt her and I think by doing that I've been the one to hurt her the most.” He stated more to himself then anyone else in the room. “I think I've done so much damage that no matter how much I love her, what hope I ever had that she could reciprocate is gone. It died when Rowan did.” The air in the room when from light and jovial to heavy and dark in just a few sentences. “I'm going for a walk.”

“If you get caught after curfew-”

“What? Get detention?” Ben stood, grabbed a jacket of his that had been on the end of his bed and left the dormitory.

His foggy mind supplied that going to the Forbidden Forest was a good idea, and he headed that way. Thunder boomed and lightning popped overhead and he thought briefly about heading back but he continued.

Half way down to the forbidden forest, the sky opened up and let down a torrential rain like Hogwarts had not seen in a very long time. Ben hated getting caught in the rain and made a beeline for Hagrid's hut, hoping the half giant wouldn't mind if he waited out the storm in his house. In about twenty steps he was pushing the door open and going inside.

It was dry and he pulled his wool sweater off and shook his hair to remove excess moisture.

“Hagrid?” He called, but there was no light on and Fang lifted his head up to give him a look. He figured Hagrid must not have been there and walked over to the fireplace and put some logs in a pile to start a fire. He ran his hand over the mantle feeling for matches or anything, but decided to cast a simple spell to ignite the wood. There was instant warmth in the hut as he held his hands out, warming his fingers.

The door to the hut opened, and he turned, his wand at the ready to see a figure in the doorway that was far to small to be Hagrid.

“Ben?” The voice called, before stepping into the light of the fire.

“Iris?” He asked, sliding his wand up his sleeve. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was looking for Moondew for growth potion, I need it for my Herbology project and Snape is being greedy.” Iris explained as she peeled her wet rain slicker off and hung it on the coat rack. “What are you doing out here? Isn't it past curfew?” Ben opened his mouth to tell her, she cut him off. “Never mind.”

“What?” “You'll just say something snarky and I've had a good day, so we'll just leave it alone.” Iris stated as she took out the little jar from her bag and inspected her Moondew leaves. He was about to remark that he wouldn't have done that, but that in itself would just prove her right.

She placed the small corked bottle on the table and stepped over to the fire.

“Where's Hagrid?” He asked.

“He's presenting at the Ministry about Thestrals. He won't be back until tomorrow I think.” She informed him, holding her hands out to the fire, a content look on her face. “Fancy a snack? I know where Hagrid keeps his tea, and I have some chocolate and orange scone in my bag.”

“Why do you have scones with you?”

“I wasn't sure how long I'd have to look for the Moondew, so I brought something to eat with me. Plus sometimes I have to bribe Fang to come with me.” She explained as she went to collect the tea he had stashed on a shelf and get the kettle ready over the fire. Ben felt himself blink rather hard, the effects of the Fire Whiskey starting to turn on him. He was suddenly very hot, and the room was a bit spinny.

He had already shed his sweater, and unbuttoned his collared shirt before he made to sit down on the rug in front of the fire. In hindsight, he should have sat farther from the fire, but he honestly wondered if he would even be able to make it to the chair without spilling himself on the floor anyway. Iris was also Head Girl, if she found out he had been drinking she would either have to report him or deal with it herself and he didn't want to incur her wrath.

He twisted his neck, feeling a pop that seemed to relax him as Iris held out a plate with the scones on it. He took a bite,

“these are really good. Did the house elves make this?”

“Oh no, I've made friends with Pits, he let me make some yesterday down in the kitchens.” Iris explained as she tenderly added the tea into a pot and poured the hot water into the hilariously floral teapot that Hagrid had.

“You could make friends with a dung beetle.” He joked, only partially. She laughed lightly.

They sat in silence for a while before the tea was ready and he watched as Iris poured the tea into two mix matched floral cups and handed him one. He reached for the cream and noticed that Iris blew on hers and drank it straight. It was a new little tidbit of information for him to lock away.

“Do you remember back in 2nd year, you wouldn't go up into the astronomy tower so we turned the artifact rooms ceiling into the night sky?” Iris asked suddenly.

“What made you think about that?” Ben asked as he looked over at her. She shrugged.

“We had tea and scones then, remember?” She gestured at the scones with her teacup. “I just... I like that memory.” Iris admitted.

“Back when I was afraid to even-”

“Would you just shut up!” Iris snapped, clacking her teacup loudly against the saucer. “It's a memory that makes me smile, and that I enjoy, why do you constantly try and belittle things that make me happy? Are you that full of bitterness anymore that you won't let anyone enjoy something as simple as a memory?”

“You're defensive tonight, what has you so wound up?” He snapped back just as angrily.

“I'm defensive?” Iris shouted, standing up to tower over Ben, ready for a fight that had been brewing for weeks. “You're the one that can't even let me relive a memory from when we were twelve without you belittling it!”

“I don't like reliving those memories, it was when I was weak-”

“It was when you were kind.” Iris cut in dangerously. He placed his hands on the floor and hoped that he could stand without falling over. He stood on his feet and looked down at her, truly looked at her for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Iris used to have this childlike innocence about her, with her round baby face, porcelain skin, blue eyes that were wide open for the world. He wasn't exactly sure when the last time he took the time to study her, more then likely before Rowan died, and it looked like everything she had experienced had finally caught up with her.

It was only a matter of time, one can only keep loading the camels back before something as simple as a napkin will break their back. He wondered when it was that Iris had finally broke, and wondered if anyone had even noticed. Iris was the unbreakable, she was the epitome of what people wanted to be, of course people thought she was sturdy as stone. They had taken her for granted.

Hell, he had.

Her lips were almost always in a natural smile, now seemed to be downturned in nature. Her eyes, those were what had grabbed him when he first made eye contact with her because he had never seen eyes that were just that blue, had always been bright and happy. Now, they looked like the good china that people put away for safe keeping, dust piling on it where you can see the color, its just muted. Everything about her seemed muted. Her skin, her hair, she was a soul with the weight of a Kingdom on her shoulders. There was more expectations on her at seventeen then that of twenty people.

Ben felt regret in his belly, and he couldn't keep up this conversation. He knew she was far too close and one push would send her over that edge. He had done enough to push her there, he wasn't going to be the one that pushed her to the breaking point.

“I'm not going to have this conversation.” He shook his head, beginning to button up the few buttons he had loosened earlier. Rain be damned, if he had to get soaked to get away from her and let her cool down, he would. He was just about to walk to the door when Iris called,

“You want to know what I think?” Iris told him firmly, it was not really a question but a thinly veiled declaration masquerading as a question. “I think that you're still terrified.”

That stopped him in his tracks. His hand hovered over the door knob, and the rational part of his brain that would have told him to walk away was flooded by Firewhiskey. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She was not going down this time, and she was not going to be ignored. “You are still the terrified Muggleborn you always were, only it's the fear that people will still see you as that person.”

“I am not-”

“I can see it in your eyes! You may be able to fool everyone else, but you can't fool me.” She pointed at herself. “I know you better then anyone, Benjamin Copper!” It was a fact that was mildly terrifying, and he hated to admit that. “It's a different type of terror, but it's still there and it still controls you down to your core-”

“No it doesn't! I'm a not that person anymore!” He shouted at her. It wasn't the first time he had raised his voice at her, but it felt much different then the times before. Because she had struck a nerve.

He wasn't the one in control anymore.

His delicate control that he had been clinging to since after the buried vault was quickly disinigrating in his hands and he was scrambling to keep it.

“You haven't become brave, you've become cruel!” Iris told him. He could almost see it like an actual image in his mind, she was taking a sledge hammer to his carefully constructed statue of power, bravery and control. Others had chipped away at it, but Iris had come in and went for the Achilles heel that only she seemed to know existed. “Your trauma is what navigates every single decision you have made! Every decision has been made in fear from the moment you stepped into Hogwarts!” Another critical hit, cracks that could never be fixed started to grow threatening to topple over all of himself.

“That's not true!” He yelled back at her, as though he was trying to convince himself.

“Really? Give me an example.” She dared him.

Her attack seemed to stop because she had chipped away and found the one part of his bravery that wasn't an act. That one tiny part of himself that had been bright and true since the beginning.

The part that she overlooked.

Because it was her.

“You.” He stated simply. Iris jumped a bit at the declaration, clearly not seeing his answer coming. “You terrified me. You were loud, outspoken, brave, already good at magic and dueling, you came from a pure blood family, and you were attractive. What wasn't intimidating about you? Especially to a muggleborn like me?” It was his turn to talk and he was going to seize the opportunity, as it seemed he had shocked her into silence in the middle of a fight. “But I approached you first, remember that? I thanked you for standing up to Merula. My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing, I felt like I was going to vomit, yet I rejected that fear to talk to you because there was something about you that felt like a damn gravitational pull!” He took a step closer to her and she held her ground, starring up at him. Her eyes were still alight with fire but there was something else there, a vulnerability that he had seen in her eyes too often since the buried vault. “From brooms and books, to time in the artifact room, I cared about you more then I cared about anyone else, so much so that I went with you to the buried vault! Despite the fact that I thought I would die, I went because I cared more about you then I did myself!”

Iris's lips were in a tight line, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she shook her head.

“Ben don't.” She warned, almost knowing where he was going.

“You're right, every decision I have made has been in fear... The biggest fear I have above all others-”

“Ben stop!”

There was no stopping now. He had regained the control.

“The fear that some how, in some horrible way that I can't control, that you will be hurt or die because you put everyone ahead of yourself in the most reckless and honorable ways!” He felt like he had become a new man, and that he had become braver in the years since the buried vault, but the fire whiskey in his veins was a form of liquid courage that he was sure no potion could replicate. His thought process was interrupted by stinging on his cheek.

Iris had slapped him.  

“Don't you dare say it.” She warned, her voice like ice. “Not after the way you have treated me-”

“I love you!” He wanted to shout it at her, hoping that if he yelled louder then her that she would realize he was being truthful, but all it would do is prove her point that he had just became cruel. She closed her eyes, and he watched a her fight within herself, her fingers curled into fists and he was worried for a moment that she was going to deck him. “Iris.” He reached out and placed a hand over her curled fist, “I love you.”

She shook her head but made no effort to pull away from him. They had went to war with one another and now both stood in front of their dismantled battlements.

Iris was the first to move, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his sternum.  

“I miss you, Ben.” Iris almost sobbed. His hands let go of her fists, and wrapped protectively around her back, holding her tightly. He lowered his head, his nose resting on the top of her head and breathed deeply.

He had finally admitted it, and said it out loud, given it a sense of being. He felt like a weight had been lifted, and he didn't know he had been carrying it around with him.

“I'll work on being less cruel, and more kind again.” He promised her.

“I'll accept that.” Her hands that had been balled up and resting against him opened and she laid her palms and fingers out flat against his chest, before moving them up to wrap around his neck and pull him into a hug. She had to stand on her tip toes in order to get her chin to rest on his shoulders. “Remember when I used to be taller then you?” There was a lightness in her voice that he had missed, and he smiled.

“Yeah, now you're short.” He joked.

“You're no giant yourself.”

“At least I'm taller then you.”

“Everyone is, except for Professor Flitwick.”

“Even that's pretty close.” He laughed and she tapped the back of his head with her hand. She pulled back and looked into his eyes, and smiled gently, placing the hand that had previously slapped him delicately on his face.

“I'm sorry I slapped you.”

“I'm just surprised it took you this long to slap me.” He told her honestly. “I'm sorry that I've hurt you, and I'm going to endever to do better.” Iris nodded and wrapped her arms around him again and listened to how fast his heart was beating, and smiled, knowing hers was beating just as fast.

He had not expected his drunken evening walk to end like this.

[thinkingimmensely]

No Expectations

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x Reader / MC [Jacob’s Sibling]

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m back with another x Charlie Weasley fic~ I found this a few days ago while I was going through my drafts and realized this was the prequel for After Breakfast. The story how Y/N and Charlie got together~ I forgot I even had this! So I decided to finish it (I was actually already halfway done with it before going on a hiatus), and now it’s here for you guys to read! <3 I hope you all like it because this was a lot of fun! 

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything in the Potterverse!

———————————————

The leaves crunched beneath your boots with every step you took as you neared a homely cottage; its roofs rigged, a few of the wall boards had scratches and smoke coming out of its chimney.

As you stood outside the door with your hand raised to knock on the entranceway, you thought if this really was a good idea.

It’s been a year.

A year since you last saw Charlie Weasley since the lot of you graduated from Hogwarts and he immediately whisked away to Romania to follow his dreams to be among dragons while you tried to get your life together. Gringotts offered you a job— cursebreaker. The very title that was practically engraved in you right now. The only upside was that you got to work beside Bill Weasley, Charlie’s older brother and one of your best friends.

You could’ve gotten any job you wanted, your Professors back at Hogwarts even said so, but something inside you yearned for the familiar, at least for that moment in your life.

The door opened even before you got the chance to knock and you were left stunned, your hand still raised.

Charlie Weasley still had that effect on you.

He looked quite shock too, but a huge smile instantly broke out when he realized it was you. “You’re here!” Did his voice always sound that deep?

You smiled back at him, and he pulled you in for a quick hug– nothing intimate at all, he still smells like grass and honeysuckle though.

When you two pulled apart he opened the door wider and motioned for you to come in; the cottage surely wasn’t as lively as The Burrow, but it still had a similar aura to it. He had the kettle brewing with chamomile– your favorite. Your heart leapt a little at such consideration as you placed your bag down beside the sofa.

“This place is nice.” You commented and removed your coat.

He shrugged, “Well yeah, it’s pretty neat; and no brothers who take my stuff without permission so...” he trailed off and took your coat from your hands and hung it by the door.

When he stopped, you looked at him and raised a brow; he was looking right back at you but realization dawned in his features and he quickly turned away and cleared his throat. “Um, tea?”

You beamed, “Yes please.” He immediately shuffled towards the kitchen area and turned the stove off. He whisked his wand towards the cupboard and the cups came floating towards the table, softly landing on tiny plates.

After a few minutes, the both of you sat around the small dinner table with a cup of hot tea steaming on your hands. You took a sip and savored the the hot drink. “So,” you started, “when are you showing me the dragons?”

He grinned at you at that, he always was excited to anything related to dragons. “Is tomorrow good? I wanted to show you the entire sanctuary! We can go first thing in the morning.”

You talked more freely afterwards, like you two haven’t ever been apart. You had asked him all that he’s been up to, if he made any new friends and such. He had, actually, his companions at the sanctuary were as much his friends than the lot of you had been at Hogwarts were.

You had soon relocated to the sofa at the living room where he told you stories of how he got Hagrid’s dragon Norberta out of Hogwarts; Liz, Barnaby, Tonks and Tulip had helped him with that and you wished you’d been there too; but you and Bill were probably stuck at a ruin somewhere in Egypt at that time.

“So what about you?” He asked.

You quirked a brow, “What about me?”

He nodded and unconsciously scooted a little closer to you. “What’s new with you, I mean. Tell me anything and everything.” He leaned forward, his undivided attention on you.

You thought about it. What was new with you? Your hairstyle may have changed, you grew a little taller before stopping altogether but you had an inkling he wasn’t interested in any of that. So you shrugged, “Nothing, I guess? I mean... I’m basically the same since I left. Curses and all that. I don’t have any interesting stories like you.”

Charlie scoffed and leaned back on the couch, his head craned to look up at the ceiling and you flushed as your eyes studied his features for the umpteenth time that day. “Everything about you is interesting to me, Y/N. Ever since Hogwarts, and it hasn’t changed since.”

He turned towards you with a look you had never seen his face before. A look you saw on Andre Egwu when you had asked him to the Celestial Ball, the look when Barnaby Lee told you he liked you very much, right in front of Ismelda Murke no less when the lass was professing her feelings for him, and also the look Talbott Winger gave you when the both of you went on your first date together. But never Charlie.

Never Charlie Weasley.

Charlie smiled sweetly then got off the couch telling you that he had to prepare for dinner.

Were your eyes playing tricks on you? Or were you just seeing what you wanted to see for the past three years when you guys walked the halls of Hogwarts together? Because why now? True, you hadn’t been obvious about your feelings for the redhead before, but were you that obvious right now?

Calm down, this was nothing. You chastised yourself mentally. Things were always easier when you had no expectations regarding the ginger. You’ve never had any expectations that he’d notice how your gaze always found him, how every time you’ve ever hugged him, your touch always lingered for more than necessary as a friend. How you were willing to run away with him that one time during 6th year. Just to get away from everything, just to be with him.

“You know,” he called out from the kitchen, bringing you out of your hung-up thoughts about him, “There’s a pub just below the mountain. We should go there after dinner. It’s a homey place, good for a drink.”

You stood up from the couch and leaned against the entranceway of the kitchen, “Charles Weasley, I didn’t know you drank.” You said.

He grinned and gave you a shrug. “Occasionally, and you being here is an occasion isn’t it?” He got the pot out of the stove and placed it down on the table. “I mean, it’s not everyday I could snatch you away from my brother’s side.” He laughed.

You chuckled and took a pair of plates and utensils from his cupboard and set it down the table. What’s Bill got to do with anything? You thought idly as you sat and the two of you started eating dinner.

Right after doing the dishes, the two of you began your journey down the mountain to that pub Charlie mentioned. At one time, you almost slipped, luckily he held your arm just in time. “Careful.” He muttered as you regained your balance. He held your hand the rest of the way down. ‘So you wouldn’t slip again’ he said, and you were thankful for the night because you literally could feel the blood rush to your face.

The pub was quaint, there weren’t a lot of people either. Only wizards and witches went here, Charlie informed you as you took your seats.

“Ey Charlie! Surprised to see you here mate.” One person called out as a group of people entered the pub.

The two of you turned and Charlie immediately got off his seat and clasped hands with the group, greeting them. They approached you, wide smiles on their faces, “Y/N, these are my mates back at the Sanctuary. Guys, this is Y/N, we went to Hogwarts together.”

You got off your seat as well and extended your hand, which they gladly shook one by one, and they all started talking at the same time.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Charlie told us a lot about you.”

“Did you know that he carries a picture of you around?”

“It’s true, takes it everywhere with ‘im.”

Charlie pushed them all away, “Okay boys, that’s enough, try not to overwhelm her will ya?” He laughed.

The waiter served your drinks, two glasses of butterbeer. “Sorry about them. They always tend to overshare.” Charlie apologized, his face was flushed which took you aback.

Charlie Weasley was blushing?

“It’s alright, they’re a fun bunch. Seems like good people too, I can see why you’re friends with them.” You replied in a smile, taking a sip of the froth of your butterbeer; it wasn’t like Madam Rosmerta’s butterbeer, but it was close. “You carry around a picture of me?” You asked.

He flushed a deeper shade of red and you thought that was absolutely adorable. He cleared his throat, gulping down his butterbeer. “I-um...” he stammered, “I’ll go order us another serving yea?” He stood up and headed to the counter, escaping you and your confused look as fast as he can.

Did he perhaps...? You shook your head in denial, no expectations, you reminded yourself, no expectations.

You couldn’t help the frown that made its way as you saw a woman approach Charlie, a smile on her face and her hand on his arm as she chatted him up.

She fluttered her long lashes at him and flipped her hair back suggestively. You gulped down your butterbeer and stood up and made your way towards them.

“Maybe you and I can grab a few drinks sometime?” The woman flashed him her white pearls.

Before Charlie could even reply, you arrived by his side and his attention shifted to you fully. “Sorry, but he’s busy.” You interjected and grabbed your friend and pulled him back to your table, missing the way he smiled brightly at you. You took the shot of firewhiskey from his hand and downed it.

“You okay?” He hesitantly asked, his brow arched in curiosity.

“Of course.” You immediately answered. No expectations, you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time that day.

Besides that minor incident with the random lady, the rest of the night was relatively enjoyable. You switched your butterbeer for firewhiskey after that shot and the two of you joined Charlie’s friends and had a blast time sharing grand adventures and embarrassing stories.

By the time the both of you arrived back at the cottage, you were hammered, giggling at every little thing.

You crashed in the sofa with Charlie, the wood crackling at the fireplace, you two were still talking, energy nearly spent as your voices softened and more sighs escaped your lips. You were distinctly aware how the both of you were closely huddled up on the sofa, and maybe if you didn’t have alcohol running through your veins right now, you would’ve been embarrassed and utterly self conscious.

You looked at Charlie to find him already staring at you silently. He reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek lovingly.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes widened and you could feel your heart hammering wildly against your chest. You gulped and wet your lips, an action that made him look down to it, and making his eyes glaze with an emotion you dared not even think about.

You took his hand in yours, “You’re much of a looker yourself.” You tried to pass it off as a joke, a compliment from one friend to another, but your voice wavered and you prayed he didn’t notice.

He grasped your hand tightly, you hoped he couldn’t hear your heart beat because it would be a dead giveaway of your outpouring feelings right now. He kissed the back your hand, and then slowly leaned in towards you.

Closing your eyes, you felt his lips press against yours soon after and you thought your heart might give out because this was everything.

You kissed him back almost immediately and he pulled you closer towards him, his hand behind your head while his other hand rested on your waist.

Your fingers ran through his soft locks as Charlie slipped his tongue inside yours, deepening the kiss and you barely register the fact that you were already leaning down on the sofa, the man of your dreams on top of you.

The kiss was intoxicating and you couldn’t get enough of him. Of his taste, of his smell, of his entire being and you would’ve been alright with the fact that his hand played with the hem of your sweater, itching to touch your skin until a dragon’s roar vibrated the entire house.

It was like you’ve been dumped with a bucket of ice cold water as you pushed him away from you. Trying to catch your breath, surprise and realization dawning on you on what was just about to happen had you not come to your senses.

“You’re drunk.” You stated with a shaky voice. “Hell, maybe I’m drunk too.” You mind was reeling as you ran a hand through your hair, frustrated at yourself, whatever happened to no expectations?

“I’m sober enough to know what I was doing.” He breathed, and that confession ignited that little ray of hope inside you. He didn’t try to close the distance between you right now, which you were thankful for. He always was considerate, and that made you fall a little harder.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, you could feel your eyes water because you loved Charlie Weasley. Loved him so much that it hurt. “What are we doing, Charlie?” That wasn’t what you wanted to ask him, but somehow you just couldn’t get the right words out.

Charlie faced you, and took your hands in his again; you didn’t even try to pull away and maybe that’s what fueled the determined look in his eye. You were there, sitting across him, with your heart on your sleeves, waiting for him to say something, anything.  

“I-“ he started, and took a deep, steadying breath, “I’m in love with you.”

———————————————

Related Stories: After Breakfast | Before Dinner

Permanent Taglist:

@oreofrappiewithblueberry , @coffeeismylife28

[ellewords]

you know those posts of people saying to send a wedding invitation to celebrities because sometimes they’ll send gifts congratulating the couple? and you know how sometimes the celebrity will actually show up? this is my head cannon of who would end up showing up just because.

(little bit of a warning: these are very half-baked and mostly just stream of consciousness because my brain is fried and i’m in need of a distraction from writing essays, but the thought hasn’t left my head, so now you have to deal with my brainrot, mwahahaha!)

i think oikawa would show up to a bunch of weddings for he people he doesn’t know. it starts in argentina when a fan sends him an invite, and he’s stupid happy about it and no one really knows why. he just really enjoys weddings, they suppose. it’s in the area, too, so he buys a gift for the happy couple and he shows up. he genuinely tries to be really low key because he doesn’t want to ruin their big day, so he stays in the back for the ceremony and he is the perfect wedding-goer. at the ceremony, though, he has a much harder time remaining out of the spotlight. when the bride and groom notice that there’s a tiny bit of a commotion happening, they lose their minds when they realize that it’s because oikawa actually showed up!!! they thought he was kidding when he accepted the invite, or maybe that he’d send an assistant or something!!! but nope, there he is, looking both enthused at being the center of attention but also kind of uncomfortable. when the couple lose their minds in front of him, though, being utter fanatics and hyping him up, he eases up and finally begins to have fun, dancing on the dance floor with different people, drinking responsibly, talking to people, bashfully signing autographs. he doesn’t lose steam for even a second, and when the party seems to lull just a little bit too long, he goes out of his way to make sure everyone gets back to enjoying themselves to the fullest (which the bride and groom appreciate). nearly everyone in attendance gets his attention for a short portion of time, and if they don’t, he tries to snag a picture with everyone on the way out. at the very end of the night, he records a short video for the couple telling them how lovely they are, thanking them for the invite and the great time, and wishing them the absolute best. it’s the highlight of their lives, besides, y’know, the whole getting married thing.

it’s gets out that oikawa actually went to a wedding he was invited to by strangers when someone posts a picture of the wedding online and he was spotted in the background, so now he gets invites all the time. he doesn’t go to all of them because he’s busy and some of the places he gets invites from are across the world, but if the location intrigues him and he has the time, he’ll usually be there.

kageyama would definitely go, too! but it would be mostly because he can’t remember for the life of him if he knows the couple, and it stresses him the hell out. he’s definitely gotten a lot more confident since he was in school, but at the root of him is still an awkward kid who questions everything about himself if it’s not volleyball. so he panics about it for weeks before the wedding, wondering what they’ll want as a gift, accidentally tricking himself into believing that he does in fact know the couple and buying a gift that he assumes they’ll like based off of thinking it’s one of his old classmates from school and buying something that they’d like. and when he doesn’t recognize either of them at the ceremony, he gets so distracted trying to place anyone’s face as someone he knows and he just can’t for the life of him figure it out. he’s half a beat behind everyone when they start cheering for the couple as the kiss and leave because he’s so deep in thought. it isn’t until the reception that he finds out that he doesn’t actually know anyone and he gets so pouty about having stressed over it for so long that he broods in a corner, trying to avoid everyone. he doesn’t start to enjoy himself until someone recognizes him and rambles for nearly ten minutes about how amazing he is and about this one play that he did that they practiced for weeks after seeing it but they still couldn’t nail and that he was their inspiration. imagine everyone’s surprise when they find them in the hallway of the reception hall with a volleyball kageyama had in his car, kageyama teaching the person how he did it. a small game breaks out in the obnoxiously big hallway with a scrappy set up of chairs precariously piled on top of each other until they were high enough and a bunch of coat jackets tied together along the top and bottom of where a net would be so they can see through. the noise is just barely softer than the music, but they gather a bit of a crowd until the game is over, and as much as kageyama enjoyed it, he apologizes to the bride and groom afterwards for feeling like he took away their spotlight. they laugh and say they don’t mind as long as the groom can play the next match.

a picture of kageyama smiling and cheering as his impromptu teammate makes a good play goes viral days later and kageyama does everything in his power to get the pictures taken at the wedding so he has the memories of that night forever. he even sends an awkward thank you card to the couple after.

ushijima accepts an invite, too; mostly because he feels it would be rude not to accept when they spent the time and money going out of their way to send him one. he spends a lot of money getting them a gift, and he cleans up super nicely, and he’s almost distracting for the entire ceremony. the quiet mysterious type suits him well, and everyone notices as he stays in the back, politely applauding when necessary and offering tissue to anyone crying and helping when it’s needed. at the reception, he mostly stays in his seat, but he stops to have conversations with anyone that comes by. most of them are very to the point, and don’t get longer than a few minutes because ushijima doesn’t beat around the bush much, but as off-putting as it sounds, everyone absolutely adores him. some people are trying to size him up, but he’s just too straightforward about how they are perfectly good on their own without having to compare themselves that they wander off shocked that he was so... nice? no, he is, but that’s not quite it... honest? about it all that they feel validated and off-kilter by the time they walk away. others come over to ask him to dance, which he politely accepts and he’s just so earnest in his attempt that they can’t even be upset that he’s a little stiff and bumbling. if anything, they fall for his charm even more. as he leaves, everyone insists that he take a few plates to-go and that if he ever needed anything, all he had to do was ask. he was very confused by this proclamation as he didn’t know anyone well enough. in his bag of to-go boxes, however, he finds a ton of business cards and stuff that he stores away just in case he does need any of their services.

at his next interview, he gets asked about the entire experience, and as always, he’s super honest: “i had a wonderful time. everyone was very kind. that being said, i felt as if i was intruding on a very personal moment meant to be shared by those you hold dearest, so as much as i appreciate the sentiment, i do not plan to attend anymore weddings if i don’t know someone involved. it should be their big day, after all, and i would hate to distract from it.” if he gets anymore invites, he politely declines and instead sends them a gift and his congratulations.

i’ve been gone for a few days because of school, but i’ve been itching to send something in ever since i saw the wedding prompt. plus, all of the hc coming in from it have been so good! you have so many talented followers, and your additions are great as always, elle!

anyway, i have to get back to school. hope school is going well for you, elle! and make sure you’re taking care of yourself! -🌙

— from elle ! wait, hold on i love this >_< but hello moon anon !! i hope all those essays are working out well for you and i hope you’re able to take breaks in between :) anyways, this definitely made me love and i like that it’s true to the characters (esp. kags). my quick lil scenarios (under the cut as usual) is kind of an amalgamation of what you sent in because i'm just thinking of what would happen if the couple took a shot in the dark and invited all three of them. and they all attend :>> thank you for this and i hope you are having a wonderful day ! <3 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

“yohoo, tobio-chan!” kageyama heard, a figure sliding into the empty seat next to him. the voice is airy, familiar, one that he had heard several times in the past. the ceremony was due to start in five minutes, everyone from the guests to the wedding party already taking their respective place.

he narrows his eyes towards the figure, recognising the man just after a couple of quick beats, “oikawa-san?”

“ah! i'm glad you could still recognise me.” oikawa grinned, squinting his eyes at the vast amounts of sunlight that entered through the windows, “too bright in here, isn’t it?” 

“what are you doing back in japan?” he asked, eyes growing wide as he’s unsure if the sight in front of him was actually real. 

 “visiting family, taking a little vacation.” oikawa replied, leaning back in his seat, “so how do you know the happy couple?”

“i...i'm not sure.” kageyama admitted, looking down at his lap in embarrassment.

“can you keep a secret tobio?” oikawa leaned in to whisper, waiting for him to nod before continuing, “i don’t think i know them either.”

__

it was about halfway through the ceremony and oikawa was getting just a little bit restless; he loved weddings, truly, but this one was dragging on much longer than the ones he previously attended. his gaze was lingering everywhere — from the loved-up gazes of the couple, the flowers that lined the aisles, to the guests who hung onto every word of the vows. one of the guests in particular was more familiar than most.

“pst, tobio.” he spoke, nudging kageyama’s shoulder, “doesn’t that guy look familiar?” 

he tilted his head towards the man who sat at the very back row, trying his best to keep a relatively low profile. kageyama followed with his eyes, attempting to be as discreet as he could. he recognised the man immediately, “that’s ushijima-san!”

maybe kageyama had exclaimed a little too loudly, earning himself a few shhhhs from the people who sat around him. he bows his head slightly as an apology while oikawa bites his lip to hold in his laughter.

__

the three of them were able to meet up during the reception, opting to sit at the same table — the one farthest away from everyone as to not draw any attention to themselves. well, oikawa insisted that they did and kageyama and ushijima didn’t really know anyone else to be comfortable enough to sit with them.

“what did you both get the bride and groom?” oikawa asked as an attempt to make conversation, taking a sip from the glass in front of them.

ushijima was one to spare no expense when it came to gifts, but he wasn’t one to brag about the cost of it either, “just a simple tea set. nothing much.”

what he failed to mention was that simple tea set cost several thousands of yen. but of course, oikawa took it as a bit of an opportunity to one-up ushijima and brags about his gifts. yes, gifts. plural.

__

ushijima was in the bathroom and oikawa had gotten the attention of a couple of bridesmaids — flirting with him while he tried his best to subtly deflect their advances — leaving kageyama all alone at the table.

he felt a hand tap on his shoulder, soft and hesitant, “kageyama tobio?”

“yes?” kageyama asked, turning to face the source of the voice. he’s met with a teenage boy, possibly not older than sixteen, looking at him with complete nervousness in his eyes.  

“i'm sorry to bother you. but i've just been such a huge fan of yours for the longest time and i wasn’t even sure if i should approach you but i really needed to let you know how much you have inspired me and i still have so much to learn but...uh, yeah.” the boy finished, looking at everything but kageyama at that point.

and a light flush colors kageyama’s cheeks, completely flustered. it was the first time anyone had approached him like that before, and he’s unsure how exactly to take the compliments. but he noticed the way the fan’s hands trembled, and he recalls all the times he’s approached the players he was a fan of when he was his age. “is there anything you need help with?”

__

needless to say, oikawa and ushijima were surprised when they found their table completely devoid of kageyama’s presence; only to find him in the incredibly large hallways with a makeshift volleyball court with chairs haphazardly stacked on top one another.

“where did you get that?” ushijima asked, pointing towards the volleyball that kageyama held in his hands.

“my car.” he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well then,” oikawa smirked, eyes lighting up as he looked around the halls, especially at the gathering crowd, “how about a friendly little match?”

kageyama and the fan he was meant to be teaching stood on one side of the makeshift court while oikawa and ushijima stood opposite them, getting into position. most of the guests had their phones out, recording everything and posting it on social media.

“at least i will finally know what it’s like to finally play with you in a team instead of against you.” ushijima commented, briefly glancing at his teammate for the night.

oikawa choked on air, taking a few seconds to compose himself before responding, “should have come to shiratorizawa, huh?”

it was barely even noticeable, barely lasted a few seconds, but ushijima cracked a smile. 

__

the night ends with the newlyweds approaching the three of them, expressing their gratefulness for their invitations but also apologising for stealing their thunder on their wedding, going so far as to offering to pay for their honeymoon.

“as tempting as that may be,” the bride smiled, “it really is no problem. we’re surprised that you even attended in the first place.

the groom nodded in agreement, “we had a lot of fun watching you play tonight, so we feel like we should be thanking you more. you didn’t have to bring gifts too.”

oikawa waved a hand as if to say it’s nothing, while kageyama and ushijima offer tickets to their next match in exchange for photos from the wedding — particularly that of their little volleyball match.

the three of them finally make their way out into the night and into their respective cars, but not before oikawa lets out one more question.

“the three of us should hang out more,” oikawa smiled, not a trace of teasing or malice in his tone, just a genuine offer, “at least once before i get back to argentina.”

years ago, none of them would even consider such a thing, but all three liked to think that they moved past such trivial things.

kageyama gave him a small smile, “alright.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what would the hq characters be like at a wedding?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[cecilspeaks]

176 - The Autumn Specter

Lips are the toes of the face. Welcome to Night Vale.

[spooky theme song]

It’s Halloween again, Night Vale, my favorite day of the year. As a kid, my mother used to dress my sister Abby and I in homemade costumes and take us door to door, vaguely threatening our neighbors until they gave us candy. When I was a teenager, I got a little old for trick-or-treating, so I started going to haunted houses with my friends. A lot of those haunted houses were kind of predictable with all their chain saw killers and Victorian ghost children singing nursery rhymes, who would follow you home and sing by your bed for months afterwards, but they always got to me. I loved the emotional rush of being scared. I still do. Of course, I don’t go out much to haunted houses, but I still love good old fashioned scary stories. I thought today would be a great day to share some of my favorites with you. I had my new intern, James, put together a few spooky tales that are perfect for putting you into Halloween mood.

But first, let’s have a look at the Community Calendar. This Saturday night at the New Old Night Vale Opera House, is the annual costume gala. This event is the Opera House’s largest fundraiser and one of the most prestigious costume contests in the region. A panel of judges will be on hand to determine the best costume at the ball. Last year’s winners were Joel Eisenberg and his partner Danny Jimenez, who dressed in a tandem outfit of a stegosaurus. I was there, listeners, and it was impressive! The creature was so realistic-looking. The craftsmanship of the costume was top notch, but listen, I have to confess I’m always more into high concept creativity rather than realistic details when it comes to costumes. Like I remember the 2015 gala, when Amal Shamun came dressed up as the concept of ennui. She made herself 12 feet tall, dressed in a taupe long coat, and created a constant drizzling rain inside the ball room. Anyone who looked at her got super sad and wanted a hug. But Joel and Danny’s stegosaurus was fine.

Sunday afternoon is the fall craft sale in Old Town Night Vale. An inscrutable maze of stalls showcasing the finest products from our town’s artisans. There will be cultural events for children, like finger painting classes, puppet shows, and a visit from the Autumn Specter. The Autumn Specter returns. It comes to collect its crops, with its great and sharp sickle. [creepily] It will harvest every ripe soul in Night Vale, the Autumn Specter is hungryyyy! It is Octoberr and it is timme to feeeeeee-duh.

Hey James, this Community Calendar doesn’t seem right, it’s just a bunch of stuff about the Autumn Specter. Also this font size, what-what is this 32 point? That’s just much too large. And it’s printed in red ink and that is a waste of our color toner, James. Eww, eww! This red ink is still really damp. OK, plus there’s nothing about start and end times of the craft fair, or anything about the food trucks, like if the Autumn Specter is hungry, surely it wants some falafel or Korean barbeque or tacos. James, could you just redo this story? James? James? [clears throat] Well, listeners, I don’t know where James went. Um, I can hear him breathing, but I don’t see him anywhere. Yeah, it’s fine, let’s just get onto our first spooky story.

[static, old-fashioned music] One quiet moonless night, not long ago and not so far away, a teenage girl sat in a house that was not her own. It was the home of Tony and Sheila McDowell. The girl was their babysitter, and she had just put the two young McDowell children down to sleep. The girl watched TV alone in the dark living room, only the bluish flicker of a scary movie illuminating her face. The phone rang abrupt and loud, startling her. She raised the receiver to her ear. “Hello?” she said with a slight quiver. “Have you checked on the children?” came a raspy voice. The babysitter ran quickly upstairs, opening the door of the kids’ bedroom. She flicked on the light, and there they were, fast asleep. She went back to her movie, but the phone rang again. “Haave youuu checked on the childrennn?” came the same voice, only more sinister. The babysitter again hurried upstairs, opened the door, turned on the light, and saw the children still asleep. The caller called again and again and again. “Have you checked on the children?” The babysitter, so scared, barely able to move, hung up the phone before the voice could finish its repeated query. When the phone rang once again, she answered and shouted: “Stop calling me!” But this time, it was a different voice. The person on this occasion said: “Ma’am, this is the police. We’ve traced the call. The call is coming from inside the house. Get out, get out!” The babysitter panicked and started to run, but then she remembered: she never called the police! How would they know to even trace the call? So she crept fearfully upstairs to the children’s room, and the phone was ringing again, the clamoring bell igniting her fright. And she cracked open the door and she saw- She saw the young McDowell boy and his little brother hunched over a phone and giggling! They were pranking her, and she felt relieved but embarrassed. And she told them to stop fooling around and go to sleep. And they all shared a good laugh.

Let’s have a look now at traffic. [papers rustling] Um.. OK, well I don’t seem to have a traffic report from intern James. Also James isn’t here right now, because I sent him out to go pick up lunch a few m- Oh, hey James, James, James, James – wait, why are you standing in the control booth? You were supposed to go get lunch and also I’ve asked you a couple of times not to wear that burlap bag over your head. I mean yes it looks great, with the Jack o’ Lantern face drawn onto it, I mean the mouth is a bit lopsided and the eyes are a tad uneven,  you know kinda flat and emotionless, but all in all it’s a cool look, but it’s decidedly not allowed in Station Management’s dress code. Oh, you’re holing a knife, too! So did you get- did you already get that lunch then? Well if that- if that’s the case, you don’t need to cut my sandwich in half, I’ll-I’ll take it whole. And also I need that traffic report, thanks. James? What are you waiting for, the Autumn Specter to do it for you? [chuckles] Hop to it! James?

[clears throat] Well, while James is working on that, let’s get back to my favorite spooky Halloween stories. This one isn’t a story so much as a fun Halloween game. The legend of Bloody Mary.

According to the lore, if you turn off all the lights, and stare into a mirror, repeating “Bloody Mary” three times in a row, she will appear and tear your face off! I’ve never tried this because I don’t own any mirrors, but my husband Carlos conducted this very experiment in his science lab. He said he darkened the room and repeated the name and nothing happened for a long time. But then a figure of a woman appeared, silvery gray and shimmering, and she approached Carlos slowly, her hollow white eyes never blinking. She brought her face only inches from Carlos and said: “Are you for real?” And Carlos said yes, he was indeed – real. And Bloody Mary said: “OK because this time of year, I just get a bunch of giggling, screaming teenagers, and I’m really tired of ripping off their faces for no pay whatsoever!” And Carlos gave her some resources for starting a union and she thanked him and she offered to tear his face off in exchange for the consulting, but Carlos said no, he liked his face, and wisher her luck. Night Vale, pay your malevolent spirits! They’re overworked especially around Halloween. And a 20 per cent gratuity for poltergeists, phantasms, revenants, and ghosts is standard.

And now for t- what the, oh you- [papers rustling] Wait, OK. You know, I thought intern James had handed the traffic report to me, but this is just a piece of parchment with a 9-pointed star seemingly drawn by a finger dripped in blood. And then there are a series of ancient runes scrawled around the outer edges. Now I took runic in college. I mean, most of my friends took Spanish as their language, but I thought living here in the American Southwest, it would be more useful to study ancient Scandinavian and Germanic alphabets. And from what I can make out, these are a message about the return of the Autumn Specter. Ugh, alright. OK. I love that intern James loooves Halloween and whatever this the Autumn Specter is. In fact, James is still in the break room right now construction a sacred totem out of ash tree branches and twine. He’s been muttering to himself all day in a language that I don’t recognize, and the only words I can understand are “Autumn Specter”. But I still have neither my traffic report nor my lunch! Wait, do you think James is… Naah, put it out or you mind, Cecil.

Let’s tell another spooky Halloween story. There once was a beautiful young woman who wore a green ribbon around her neck. She won the affection of a handsome young man. They fell in love and one day the boy asked the girl why she always wore a green ribbon around her neck. She would not tell him. One day the man and the woman were to become husband and wife. In her white bridal dress, the woman still wore her green ribbon. The man asked her on their wedding night if he could untie the green ribbon, but even on the  most intimate of evenings, she said no, and he respected her answer. But he longed to know what she was hiding behind the ribbon. Through the years, the man asked the wife again about the ribbon, but she never removed it, nor answered his questions about it. She only warned him that he would not like what he saw if she were to remove it. He asked less and less, but his curiosity grew and grew. And they became old, very old, and they knew their time left was short. The man asked one more time: “My dearest wife, love of my life, tell me that I may remove the green ribbon from around your neck.” And the old woman said: “My adoring groom, here in our room after all these many years, yes you may. But I caution you, as I have many times before, that you shall not like what your eyes behold.” The man hesitated, but finally reached his weakened, wrinkled fingers to the green bow along her nape. And he tentatively pulled the ribbon, and suddenly it unfurled, falling from her neck, and the man gasped. Upon her neck was a series of ornate letters spelling out “GOTH LIFE”. The woman said: “I got this tattoo in high school but kind of outgrew it and it’s super embarrassing.” And the man replied: “It is for sure weird, but also pretty cool. I like it.” And she never wore the green ribbon again.

You know, listeners, I’d love to bring you that traffic report, but right now, um, I’m facing something much more urgent and more dire. My studio door has opened on its own, and as I turned around, I could see down the long faintly lit corridor of our offices. And at the end of the hallway stands a figure, and he wears a Jack o’ Lantern mask, his head crooked to one side like a dog asking a question or like a hanged man, or both. And it is intern James, and he holds a long knife and he walks, he walks slowly toward me. And he is speaking at first in a mutter, but now louder, a strange shout in an obscure tongue like a magician casting a wicked spell, and he is moving much faster toward me, like a limping run, and his blade is raised high, and James is not an intern, Night Vale, bu the Autumn Specter itself come to reap my soul!

But before he does that, Let me take you to the weather.

[“Welterweight” by Nels Andrews. https://nelsandrews.bandcamp.com/]

So. During the weather, I went to human resources and requested a file on intern James. Oh I’m fine, by the way, and James is not the Autumn Specter, but I’ll get to that. So I found a copy of James’ résumé and cover letter for the position of radio station intern. His application was originally submitted in 1845. “That’s almost two centuries ago!” I exclaimed, but according to HR, they’re pretty backlogged on the intern apps. “What are you gonna do, we get to them when we get to them,” they said from the bottom of their abandoned well. Paperclipped to James’ application was a wrinkled and yellowed news clipping from the Night Vale °Daily Journal, and the article says that James died on Halloween night in 1849 when he was hit by a train. I then went to the hall of public records and found that our radio station was built in 1950, atop the very train tracks where James met hi send. James’ soul has been wandering the halls and offices of our radio station ever since. For all James ever wanted was to be a radio intern. To serve the listening community, to lift high the voice of journalistic truth. And it was his death that led to the shutdown of those train tracks and the eventual construction of a new station home, and the building we still use now. So I was wrong about James. He was an intern, after all, and not a malevolent Halloween spirit.

But I was right that the Autumn Specter had come for me. For when I turned to see James running down the hill, I did not notice the Autumn Specter behind me, with its bony hands and scarecrow mouth, and I did not notice its soul reaping sickle, which it had raised high above its oversized head and stick thin body. And James had given his life for the building of our radio station, and in death, gave his soul for the very same cause. And James threw himself upon the Autumn Specter, and he tried to stab the Specter’s neck and chest, but it-it- it did nothing. And the Spectre pushed James aside and then turned its black coal eyes upon me. And it raised its curved blade once again and swung! I tried to duck, but was too slow. And just as the sickle’s edge reached my face, James dove in front of it and vanished in a burst of white flame, as he was struck. And the room was empty and the Autumn Specter was gone too.

To the family and friends of intern James, he was… an OK intern. Not always on  top of his writing deadlines, but he literally sacrificed his soul for our radio station. I can’t bring you a traffic report today, but I will live to bring you one tomorrow.  If we find a new intern. And HR tells me that we have hundreds of candidates, although  most of them are not yet aware that they are candidates.

Stay tuned next for our new cooking competition show, “Flay Bobby Flay”.

And as always, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: The road to hell is paved with cobblestone. It’s super bumpy, not at all comfortable, and really bad for your car’s suspension.

[rubysunnday]

Idiots

You felt bad for Finn. Tommy had found out about his new girlfriend and had organised a family dinner so that everyone could meet her. And by everyone, he meant everyone. 

You’d known about Finn’s girlfriend, Anna, for three months - they’d been dating for four - after you had ‘accidentally’ walked into his bedroom whilst they were making out (you’d heard a loud bang and presumed that it was Finn and wanted to embarrass him). Ever since then, you’d become quite good friends with Anna, the two of you often having tea together. She was becoming like a sister to you, which was good since you knew Finn really liked her. 

When Tommy had brought Anna up, you’d been in the other room playing cards with Lizzie and Ada. You’d been blissfully unaware until Finn, very loudly, yelled “Nothing is ever private in this family!” and slam the door behind him.

“Ah, that’ll be Tommy finding out about Anna, then,” you said, placing a card down onto the pile.

“About who?” Lizzie asked, frowning. You opened your mouth to answer but, Tommy stormed in, cigarette smoking away between his lips as he glared at you.

“Did you know?” He asked, watching you as you nonchalantly shuffled your cards.

“Know about Anna? Yup.”

“How long?” Tommy asked, pulling a chair out and sitting down next to you.

You put your cards down and turned to face Tommy, smiling. “How long would you like me to say, Tom?”

“Y/N,” Tommy said, his voice warning you not to push him.

“Fine,” you said, sighing. “Three months.” Tommy stared at you. “They’ve been together for four.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Tommy muttered, standing up and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. 

“I don’t get why this is such a big deal, Tommy,” you said, twisting in your seat to face him. 

Tommy sighed, sitting down on the desk. “Her father works with Alfie.”

You frowned, confused. “But, I thought we liked Alfie? Well, I like Alfie. I know you have mixed emotions toward him -”

“No, no, Alfie’s fine,” Tommy said, cutting you off. “I’m just...concerned that Anna is acting as a spy for either her father or Alfie.”

You abruptly started choking on the drink you’d just taken a sip of and Ada had to smack you on the back. “Thank you,” you wheezed, as she sat back down. “Anna? A spy for Alfie? Come off your high horse, Tom. A) Alfie would never do that to Finn, he likes him too much. And B), Anna’s father is a baker.”

“A baker?” Tommy said, frowning and squinting his eyes.

“Yes, a baker, the kind that makes bread and other delicious delights.”

“I know what a baker is, y/n,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes.

“Really? Wanna tell your face that?” Ada snorted and you smirked as Tommy glared at you. “All I’m saying, Tommy, is that if you give Anna a go, you might actually like her. She helps her father run the bakery and helps Alfie with his bakery business, not his suspicious I’m going to kill you all business.”

“Are you done?” Tommy asked, crossing his arms.

You nodded. “Give her a chance, Tom. She’s lovely, really.” Tommy nodded, finishing his drink off. “And if she can survive this dinner, then she can survive this family,” you muttered, just loud enough for Ada to hear, causing her to choke on her own drink.

-

“Stop fidgeting, Finn,” you hissed, smacking him on the arm as you drove to where Anna lived. 

“Sorry, I’m really nervous,” Finn muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“No shit,” you muttered, turning down Anna’s road. You glanced at him and sighed. “It’s going to be fine, Finn. She’s worked with Alfie for years, she can handle a couple of Shelby’s.”

“Except it’s not a couple of Shelbys, it’s the whole fucking family,” Finn muttered, his leg jumping up and down. 

You pulled up outside Anna’s house, switching the engine off. You turned to face Finn, putting a hand over his. “Look, Finn, no matter what happens tonight, the two of you are going to get married anyway-”

“How did you?”

“Not the point of this conversation,” you said. “I get that you want everyone to approve of her and love her, which I’m sure they will, but look at Arthur and Linda. Everyone hates her but she’s still here, ain’t she?”

Finn nodded. “Ok, I guess you’ve got a point.”

“I’ve always got a point,” you replied, pushing him out the car. You preoccupied yourself with doing your hair whilst Finn greeted Anna, turning your attention back to them as she got into the car.

“Good evening, Anna, you look gorgeous tonight,” you greeted as Anna smiled at you.

“Thank you, y/n,” Anna said, fiddling with her coat as you drove off towards Tommy’s house. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

“They’ll love you, trust me,” you said smiling. “And if it makes you feel any better, I managed to get Michael to sit you next to me and Finn.”

“There’s a seating plan?” Finn asked, turning to face you, face surprised.

“Well, it’s more of a ‘Polly is sitting everyone where they won’t end up fighting’.”

“Which means there’s going to be a fight,” Anna and Finn said together and you chuckled. 

“You’re going to fit right in, Anna,” you reassured her, smiling.

-

You hung back as Finn and Anna approached Tommy’s door, hand in hand. Polly and Tommy were standing in the porch, evidently judging Anna as she walked up. 

“Aunt Pol, Tommy, this is Anna,” Finn said, forcing a smile to his face.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms Grey, Mr Shelby,” Anna said, holding out a hand for Tommy to shake.

Which he didn’t.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, marching forward and grabbing Anna’s hand. “Anna, come and meet my sister.” You dragged her away from Tommy and towards Ada who was smiling broadly at Anna. You backtracked to Tommy as Ada walked Anna to the table and smacked him around the head.

“Be. Nice,” you hissed before following after Finn. 

It wasn’t much better in the dining room. Michael had managed to get Anna sitting next to you but Finn had been put in between Arthur and John, presumably so they could interrogate him. You smiled at Michael as he sat down on Anna’s left, your cousin striking up a conversation with Anna as dinner was served. 

“So, Anna, where did you and Finn meet?” Michael asked and you could tell that everyone was listening.

Anna laughed. “Well, we actually met when I dropped a bag of flour on him.”

“That explains why there was white stuff everywhere!” You exclaimed and Anna laughed. The tension seemed to have been broken and conversation flowed naturally after that.

“So,” you began as you sipped on your champagne. “That is a lovely ring, Anna.”

Anna blushed. “You noticed?”

“I bought it,” you told her and Anna giggled. “Finn thought it would look suspicious if he came home with a ring. He got Alfie to help him choose it.”

“He also asked my father permission,” Anna added.

“Ever the gentleman,” you said, raising your glass and clinking it with Anna’s.

“Just because you didn’t get to choose who you married!” Finn yelled, standing up so quickly his chair fell over.

“Oh, god, here we go,” you muttered to Anna, swallowing your remaining alcohol in one go as John also stood up. You didn’t hear what else John said, but apparently, it was bad enough for Finn to launch himself at his brother, a fight quickly breaking out.

“See, Anna?” You said as the two of you sat there, watching Tommy and Arthur try to break up the fight as Polly yelled at John and Finn. “This is what you’re marrying into.”

“Seems like an ordinary day for you lot,” Anna said, chuckling. 

You shrugged. “Sometimes, you put a bunch of misfits together and you get a family. Sometimes, you get a bunch of arseholes.”

[lovelystarlings]

Chapter Five - Neville’s Very Clumsy

——————————————————————————

——————————————————————————

The next morning was, eventful, to say the least. Camille had always been an early riser, her parents had insisted on her and sisters waking up at 5 am on the dot every morning, they had said it was to prepare them for when they themselves had families to wake up for but Camille knew it was just to torture them more then her parents already did. So when she woke up the next morning, wrapped in the velvety covers that they were provided, she felt a sense of tranquillity wash over her. There was no nagging mum leaning over her, no crying Gabrielle in the bed next to her and no annoying perfect Fleur singing in the shower for everyone to hear. It was quiet.

Just how she liked it.

Spinning her legs over the edge carefully, trying not to wake up the sleeping Hermione next to her, Camille walked over to the bathroom door that was left open on the opposite side of the strangely large dormitory.

Picking up her uniform on the way, Camille entered the bathroom quietly, looking around in awe at the extravagant manner of the simple room. On the wall facing the door stood four separate sinks, each having a mirror on the wall above and a small chest of drawers underneath them. Seeing as no one had claimed one yet, Camille chose the one closest to the shower, for once getting first choice of something. Placing her wash bag next to the sink, she carefully hung her uniform over the railing by the shower, not wanting to crease it straight away.

Grabbing her hairbrush out of her bag, she began to run it through her hair gently. Having slept with it in plaits had done her a huge favour, the usual straight and thick mess had been tamed into ringlets that now sat elegantly on her shoulders. Pinning her hair back with a clip, leaving the bottom layer down, Camille felt at peace with how she looked today. Sure, she wasn't as beautiful, after all she was only young, but she wasn't necessarily ugly (dear god did she hate that word), and that was enough.

Hearing movement from the room next her, and the familiarity of the other girls voices, she quickly pulled her shirt over her head and her skirt quickly over her hips, Camille turned to the door smiling at Hermione, who seemed shocked that someone was up before her.

"How are you up so early?" She spoke, her hand running through the bundle of curls that sat on top of her head. She walked over to the sink beside the French girl, placing her own stuff down gently.

"You know what they say," spoke Camille, brushing past Hermione with a smirk. "The early bird gets the worm."

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. It also didn't help that Camille knew where none of her classes were. And neither did Hermione, Or Ron. Or Harry.

Though after fumbling about the school for a long time they had managed to find most of their classes. And Camille had discovered a lot about her teachers.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Camille had noticed that Neville particularly enjoyed this one.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up, which didn't help Camille in the slightest considering she had no idea who either of them were.

Professor McGonagall had to be Camille's favourite, however. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione and Camille had made any difference to their match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione and Camille a rare smile, both girls giving each other a proud look as they linked arms and skipped off to the next lesson , leaving the boys and their matches far behind.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. Camille vaguely remembered her father telling Fleur (and Fleur told her) about an encounter he had with a vampire once, a very lovely vampire he had told her. His name was Carlisle, and he was a doctor. Camille had been shocked that a vampire could be a doctor, but her father had never lied to Fleur once.

Professor Quirrell's turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story.

For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Camille had befriended the Weasley Twins then and there, she thought they were charming and funny, and rather attractive if she was honest. They could well be veela, she thought, despite knowing that they were pure blood. She wondered what their mother and father looked like.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Camille and Hermione had been lucky enough to grab seats at the front, neither girls wanting to miss a thing. However, if Camille had known who their Professor was, she would've sat at the back, or even better out of the classroom.

His name was Professor Snape, and he was a tall man, who always seemed to be dressed in a black coat that billowed behind him like the wind itself followed him. His hair was pitch black and greasy, like it hadn't been watched in months, years even.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word, Hermione scribbling down most of it, the sound of her quill annoying Camille slightly, though she didn't say anything. She'd hate to insult the girl. Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sit," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Camille heard a loud noise behind her, and turned round to see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, shaking with laughter, and she had to hide a snicker herself. The three looked like utter pillocks.

"I don't know, sir."

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling, despite Camille's attempts to calm her down, not wanting her friend to embarrass herself more than she had. She had the feeling someone was gonna snap, whether it be Harry or Snape.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Camille laughed harmoniously at the sass Harry held in his voice, drawing the attention of the class to her. She had forgotten that most of them had probably never heard veela laugh before, and hers probably had a strange effect on the bunch, considering the majority of them were pre-pubescent teenage boys.

"Sorry," she squeaked, and slumped down in her chair. Hermione patting her head patronisingly. Though she too felt strange at the heavenly sound that had escaped the French girl's mouth.

"Sit down and be quiet," he snapped at Camille. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, though Camille had already been making her notes during the commotion. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter." Idiote, thought Camille. The poor boy had been living with muggles his whole life, how could Snape thing he'd know the simplest thing about potions. Idiote, she repeated.

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy and Camille who had been paired with the blonde boy, the only two whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.

Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Camille flinched, seeing the hurt look on the poor boy's face, unlike Malfoy, or rather Draco as he had asked her to call him, who had laughed.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

Camille and Hermione left the dungeon as soon as they could, both wanting to avoid the catastrophe of cleaning up the spilled potion.

[tradgicworks]

Heartfelt P-3 Deeper Still

Anna, Eva and Gwyneth are trapped in a mysterious bunker, what's worse is that something might be waiting for them in the dark. WORD COUNT - 5870

Anna woke up to a painfully sore back. Bruises were beginning to form because of Caroline’s beating and the long fall. Unnaturally cold air snaked through Anna’s entire body. Anna sat up as best as she could. She searched for her phone and turned on its light. The pitch black abyss that surrounded her burned into an desolate concrete hallway. Behind her a mountain of shattered debris formed a wall. Broken and dated lights hung from the ceiling by their bare wires. A battered direction plaque leaned against one of the walls, the text long since scraped away by weathering and rust.

Anna slowly got up onto her feet. She took deep shaky breaths as she struggled to move her aching body down the hallway. She eventually found herself at a two way split. To her left was another hallway blocked by rubble. A broken window stood in place of a wall in front of her. She peered over the edge. An abandoned cafeteria stood on a lower floor, bits of shattered glass scattered directly underneath her. Decay ridden plates laid on top of the old tables. Torn apart scraps of clothing and long since forgotten accessories littered the entire room.

“Anna?!” Eva’s voice called out from below.

Anna flashed her light forward and discovered a disgruntled looking Eva crouching over a small pile of scavenged valuables.

“Eva! Are you okay?” Anna asked.

“My butt hurts from the fall, but yeah I’m good,” Eva responded. “What are you doing up there?”

“What are you doing?” Anna gestured to the pile of valuables.

“What?” Eva glanced at the pile. “It’s not like they’re being used.”

“You don’t know who that stuff belongs to-” Anna frowned.

“Goldilocks, don’t be an idiot,” Eva gestured to their desolate surroundings. “Also, I was looking for something useful. Something like this.”

Eva grabbed a lighter from the pile. Its tiny flame sparked to life and barely illuminated her face.

“I was going to use it as a light, but now I got you. Come down here, there should be some stairs to your left- wait crap uh- my left your right,” Eva said before continuing to scavenge through the cafeteria.

Anna turned to her right to find a crumbling set of stairs. She carefully made her way down to the cafeteria and met up with Eva.

Eva’s hoodie was partially torn up. Her hair was unkempt and covered with dirt. Scratch marks and tiny cuts decorated her legs. She brushed off some dust of her skirt and stood up as Anna approached her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Anna asked as she looked Eva over.

“You don’t look too hot yourself either, Goldilocks, but yeah I’ll live,” Eva responded.

“Good. Do you have any idea where we are?” Anna looked at their surroundings.

“Nope. Hella spooky though, and freezing. Honestly, this whole place just gives me the creeps. But panicking is the last thing we want to do right now,” Eva said as she pocketed the lighter.

“We need to find Gwyneth and get out of here.” Anna said firmly.

“Poor thing is probably bawling her eyes out right now,” Eva commented before turning towards the broken window. “Anything up there?”

“No, just a bunch of dead-ends,” Anna answered.

“Well, I came from over there,” Eva pointed at an offshoot to the left of the cafeteria. “I think- hard to tell in the darkness- which leaves our only option…”

Eva turned and pointed into the hallway in front of them. A plaque limply hung from a single bolt on top of the archway. It read “Living Quarters”.

“...god dammit,” Eva shuddered.

“Maybe we’ll find someone who can help us,” Anna started walking down the hallway.

“This place looks like it's been abandoned for years, Anna. Anything that was once alive in here has probably been dead for a very, very, long time,” Eva followed suit to try to stay near the light. “Though I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

“We don’t have anywhere else to go and Gwyneth needs our help so we need to hurry up. Maybe you can spin kick a ghost’s head off, if one shows up,” Anna turned back towards Eva with a slightly mischievous smile.

“You are some sort of messed up if you think that’s funny,” Eva huffed.

Anna replied with a drawn out giggle before looking forward again.

“...screw you,” Eva muttered.

After walking for a few moments, they found themselves at a destroyed entryway. Deep jagged cuts tore through the concrete. A thick rusting door laid torn in half by their feet. Dark stains splattered all throughout the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" Eva asked slowly as she surveyed the wreckage.

"Something tore the door open…" Anna replied.

"No, dur. What the hell that 'something' is the question… Could have been a forklift," Eva crouched down to inspect the door.

"I don't think a forklift can split a door in half," Anna looked at her with disillusionment.

"Yeah, but I'd rather be worried about machinery gone rogue than some giant mutant abomination that can cut through us like butter," Eva stood up, forcing herself to smile. "Y'know, I'm being optimistic."

"Don't be paranoid, you said it yourself whatever was down here has long since been-" Anna walked through the door.

Rows of mangled bunk beds were thrown all throughout the room. The shredded innards of mattresses coated the floor. Several skeletons wearing tattered clothes laid against the destruction. One slumped a few feet in front of Anna, it's head missing.

"-dead," Anna barely managed to get the words out.

Eva shrieked with uncharacteristic squeamishness. She crouched away from the room and clutched herself tightly.

"They're dead! What the hell happened here!? What is this place?!" Eva yelled out.

Anna ran up to her.

"Calm down, Eva!" Anna grabbed her shoulders.

"Calm down?! How the hell are you calm right now?! Something broke into this place and killed everyone, that thing could still be alive, we could be slaughtered at any minute. What even is this place anyways? Why is it under a private all girls school of all places? I HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU'RE CALM RIGHT NOW," Eva yelled at her face.

"Because someone has to be, we can’t afford to panic, remember?" Anna said sternly. "I'm scared too, but we need to get out of here. All of us."

Eva looked up at Anna. Anna's breaths were controlled but shaky. Her eyes were determined but fear lingered in her face. Eva noticed her faint scar. This wasn't the first time Anna was this scared. Eva's breathing steadied.

"You're right. Just give me a couple minutes to calm down," Eva said as she closed her eyes.

"We don't have a couple minutes. Gwyneth could be a danger," Anna said in a soft tone.

"Yeah, yeah! I know!" Eva held out her hand, her eyes still shut. "Lead me to the other side, I'm not good with death and stuff."

"Okay," Anna grabbed her hand and stood up. "You know you can be cute sometimes."

"Keep talking and I'll crush your hand, Goldilocks," Eva growled, her eyes still shut.

Anna and Eva slowly traversed the destroyed room. Anna led Eva through the clutter of bone, forgotten items, and broken scrap. Eva meekly followed Anna’s steps, shuddering ever so slightly everytime she thought that she brushed against a skeleton. Eventually, they made it to the other side only to find another dead-end.

"So much suspense for nothing," Eva grumbled as she opened her eyes again.

"Come on, we must have missed something," Anna said as she turned around.

"No, we didn't. The only thing that we haven't explored is all the blocked hallways."

"Then we better start digging," Anna said matter of factly.

"That would literally take forever," Eva protested.

"Better than being stuck here forever-" Anna started before being interrupted.

"Help." Gwyneth's faint voice called out from underneath them.

Anna and Eva searched around them before noticing a garbage chute partially covered by the rubble.

"Come on!" Anna gestured as she propped her phone on the rubble and started pulling rocks out of the way.

"Dammit and here I thought we could avoid digging," Eva groaned before catching up and helping Anna at a much faster pace.

"Gwyneth, can you hear us?!" Anna yelled down the chute once they cleared it.

"Help." Gwyneth's trembling voice replied.

"Stay put! We're going down to get you!" Anna yelled before grabbing her phone and climbing into the chute.

"Ugh, more crap to wash off. Great," Eva groaned as she got into the chute herself.

The two slid down the grimy chute and fell into a massive dump. Trash bags full of maggots and rotting junk made the entirety of the floor. The stench of filth mixed with the frigid air to create an overwhelming air of dread. Identical chutes lined the walls like holes that stretched into the unknown. Most were out of reach and the rest clogged by piled on garbage. Anna flashed her light throughout the room. Dark splotches of mold splattered against the walls. A slick coating of putrid violet flesh squirmed as the light washed over it. Cysts full of an unknown fluid sparked to life, lighting the room with an otherworldly purple glow. Strange human sized cocoons, about 17 in total, hung from the ceiling. They wriggled ever so slightly.

"W-What is this?" Eva whimpered.

"We need to get out of here!" Anna yelled.

"Help. Please." Gwyneth's voice called out before they could do anything.

"God dammit," Eva said with a shaky voice as she ran towards Gwyneth's voice.

"Gwyneth, we’re coming!" Anna said as she followed Eva.

"Lets quickly grab her and get out of this hell hole!" Eva climbed over a mound of trash, her feet pushing against several half empty bottles of alcohol.

A few feet in front of Eva sat Gwyneth curled up into a ball. Strange and incredibly faint cuts swirled their way up the entirety of her body. Her uniform was barely held together by tatters. Blood poured from her temple onto the trash below.

"Anna, I found her. She's in really bad shape!" Eva yelled as she kneeled next to Gwyneth.

Anna soon caught up and went to her side as well. The two of them propped Gwyneth on their shoulders and began to carry her.

"How do we get out? We can't carry her back up the chute," Anna said as they began to slowly walk forward.

"Look for an exit, there has to be one somewhere," Eva replied.

"Door." Gwyneth limply pointed at the wall opposite to them.

An old, nearly rusted over door labeled “Maintenance” stood in the middle of the wall. Anna and Eva nodded to each other before moving towards the door. The flesh on the walls began to writhe uncontrollably as it crept closer and closer towards them. One of the cocoons shook violently as something tried to force its way out.

"We need to hurry," Anna said as she picked up her pace.

"I'm trying but deadweight over here ain't exactly helping. Soft my ass, she's heavy as all hell-" Eva complained.

"GET AWAY FROM IT!" Gwyneth's voice boomed from above them.

Anna looked up at the ceiling. Gwyneth hung upside down from the cocoon that shook violently. She took heavy exhausted breaths. Her face was horrified.

"Wait, who the hell is this then?-" Eva turned to face the Gwyneth they were carrying only to get thrown across the room.

"EVA!" Anna yelled as Eva smashed against a pile of trash bags and rolled onto the floor.

Anna quickly moved away from the fake Gwyneth and grabbed a broken iron pipe from the junk. She turned around and swung hard against the fake Gwyneth's temple. The pipe snapped into two pieces as it collided against the fake Gwyneth, seemingly unharmed. Anna clutched her aching palms that hurt from the recoil of the blow. The fake Gwyneth tilted it's head to the one side.

"Help. You." It said slowly in a deep breathy voice.

The fake Gwyneth began to twitch violently. The cuts throughout its body burst open. The sound of cracking bones echoed out of it as it began to shift it's form. It's body twisted and unraveled from Gwyneth's skin to putrid purple muscles. It's limbs crunched as they elongated to their original length. Rows of fang like bones stabbed through it's slimy skin and formed a light suit of armor. It's hair melted into three squishy points that resembled a jester's hat. It's face hollowed into a mouthless, nose-less, and eyeless mask- deep indentations sitting where the eyes should be. Tendrils slithered through the cracks in its body and finished shifting everything into its place. A pitch black orb rolled out of it's stomach and up into a cavity in its chest. A slab of bony ribs slid over it as it clicked into place. The Jester hunched over Anna, it's hideous form towering several feet above her.

Anna stood scared stiff at the transformation that occurred in front of her.

"Anna!" Gwyneth yelled as the Jester raised it's arm and large claws shot out of it.

Anna's face hardened as she snapped back to life. She narrowly ducked out of the way as the claws cleaved through the concrete effortlessly. Anna hopped back onto her feet and threw her broken pipe at the Jester’s head. It bounced off it doing no harm.

"Just run! You can’t hurt that thing!" Gwyneth yelled from above.

The Jester let out a raspy howl and turned towards Anna. Anna narrowly sidestepped the tendrils that shot out of its body and past her. Before she could react, it yanked itself towards her with blinding speed and pinned her against the ground. Anna struggled in vain as the Jester’s face cracked open and numerous tendrils poured out of it.

"Save. You." It gargled out as the tendrils began wrapping around Anna's body.

Anna's breaths quickened to panicked pants as her body became harder and harder to move. She took one last shaky breath as everything around her was plunged into darkness. Anna shivered as she felt herself get wrapped in a cold, damp cocoon.

"...help me….save me," Anna heard very faintly in the back of her head.

Anna gasped in a heavy breath of air as the tendrils suddenly shriveled up around her. She looked up to see the Jester engulfed in flames. Shards of a broken liquor bottle were stuck to its face. Anna rolled out of the way and got back onto her feet.

"Now we're even, Anna," Eva yelled through gritted teeth from the top of a pile of garbage, a lit Molotov cocktail in hand.

The Jester howled in pain as the fire ate at its boney flesh.

"Shut it you ugly crone," Eva screamed as she threw another Molotov against its body.

Anna ran towards Gwyneth.

"Gwyneth, drop down I’ll catch you!" She shouted at her.

"The drop is too long, I don’t think I can-" Gwyneth said nervously.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you," Anna said firmly.

"O-okay" Gwyneth whimpered.

Gwyneth shut her eyes as she pushed against the cocoon. She shrieked loudly as she fell from the ceiling. Anna braced herself and caught her as she fell, sending the two of them onto the floor.

"You okay?" Anna grunted.

"I'm okay," Gwyneth replied slowly.

"Glad you're both safe," Eva said quickly as she ran up to them. "But on your feet, I'm out of junkyard moonshine to light on fire.".

Eva helped Anna and Gwyneth onto their feet and the three of them ran towards the door. Anna rammed it open and the three found themselves at yet another dead end.

"What a sadistic piece of crap, it wanted to lead us to a dead end to kill us!" Eva exclaimed.

"Not exactly," Anna pointed to an exposed air vent on the ceiling.

"Finally, somewhere I can get to easily" Eva said as she ran up to the vent and jumped upwards.

Eva grabbed the ends of the vent and pulled herself up.

"Your turn, Gwyneth," Eva held her hand out.

"Come on we have to hurry," Anna said as she kneeled under the vent and held her hands ready to boost Gwyneth up. "Hop on".

Gwyneth shakingly stood on Anna's hands. Together the two of them managed to pull Gwyneth up into the vent.

"Goldilocks!" Eva exclaimed as she stuck her hand out.

Anna was about to jump when the door burst completely off its hinges. The Jester forced its way in. The melted flesh on its face slowly squirmed back into place. Two tendrils shot past Anna and into the rubble behind her.

Anna threw herself prone onto the floor. The Jester pounced above her into the rubble behind her.

“That won’t work on me twice,” Anna said with a determined glare.

She jumped and caught Eva’s hand. An echoing roar coursed up to them as she climbed into the air ducts.

“SAVE. YOU.” It roared as its alcohol drenched tendrils stabbed into the air ducts.

“God damn persistent piece of-” Eva grunted as she sparked her lighter to life.

She quickly crushed it against the duct. The lighter fluid ignited into a weak flame, but it was enough to reignite the alcohol and cause the tendrils to retreat in howling pain. The three of them began crawling through the air ducts as fast as they could. Eventually they found themselves at an old vent cover.

“Well, without that lighter we can't defend ourselves. Let’s hurry and get the hell out of here,” Eva huffed with adrenaline as she kicked open the vent cover.

“We must be closer to the surface by now. Hopefully we can find out from here,” Anna said as she hopped out of the air ducts.

“Y-Yeah…” Gwyneth said quietly as she hopped out as well.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked with a tender gaze.

“I’m cold,” Gwyneth shivered.

Her clothes were soaked in a mysterious fluid that was frigid to the touch.

“Jesus, that thing really did a number on you huh?” Eva said as she took off her hoodie.

It was cheaply made and several sizes too big. The large gash tore through one of the pockets, making it so that it barely hung onto the hoodie.

“Wear it, warm up. It’s not much but the last thing I want is to be dragging around a corpse,” Eva tossed it towards Gwyneth.

“Thank you…” Gwyneth looked at it for a few seconds before putting it on.

The three of them surveyed their surroundings and found themselves in a nearly empty room. A large vault gate took the place of the wall farthest to them. Eight massive deadbolts lined each side of it, locking the gate more than securely in place. A small cubicle hugged the corner of one of the rooms.

“I think this is our way out,” Gwyneth said as she walked into the cubicle.

It was a cramped thing with barely enough room for the chair and computer that sat in it. The computer was incredibly dated. It had an LCD display and a clunky keyboard that was covered in a thick layer of dust. Latched onto the wall was a broken in half shotgun. Gwyneth sat down and turned the computer on, its screen hummed to life.

“What are you doing?” Eva raised a brow as Gwyneth began clicking away.

“Seeing if there is anything useful on this thing,” Gwyneth squinted as she wrote command after command.

“So... are you like hacking it?” Eva said with a tinge of meekness.

“No, I don’t know how to do that. But I have some friends that love computers and they taught me how to use old operating systems like this one. They also taught me how to fiddle with radio signals, that's how I was able to mess with Warden 06’s radio before,” Gwyneth’s voice turned slightly somber. “They taught me that stuff just to annoy me, but who could have known that it would turn out to be useful…”

“You’ll see your friends again and once we regain our strength we’ll save Sophie too,” Anna said in a comforting tone.

“Yeah… Thanks, Anna,” Gwyneth said before continuing to tap away at the keyboard.

Eva stared at the two in silence. She averted her gaze, guilt washing over her face.

“Okay, okay!” Gwyneth’s face lit up as she finished typing. “I think I can unlock the gate”.

“That’s amazing to hear,” Anna sighed in relief.

“Okay, if I run this…” Gwyneth tapped a few times.

The sound of screeching metal echoed through the room as the deadlocks creaked out of view. A guttural roar emitted out the last one as it suddenly stopped.

“One of them jammed,” Gwyneth frowned. “I can’t open the gate without all of them being unlocked.”

“It’s almost all the way in,” Eva grabbed the stock end of the shotgun. “A little elbow grease should do it. Come help, Goldilocks”.

“Sure,” Anna said as she followed Eva to the stuck deadbolt.

“Here, whack it,” Eva handed the shotgun half to Anna.

Anna grabbed it and focused. She smashed the stock against the bolt causing it to inch slightly. She took a deep breath and smashed it again. With every bash the bolt moved closer and closer to being unlocked.

“My turn,” Eva held out her hand once Anna had exhausted herself.

Anna handed her the shotgun and Eva smashed the deadbolt with a hearty thud. The deadbolt lurched forward, a mere inch from being unlocked. Eva grit her teeth and rammed it as hard as she could. The shotgun split into broken parts as the deadbolt fell into place.

“Doors unlocked, hurry up and open it!” Eva yelled towards Gwyneth and then turned around.

Gwyneth stood in front of them with a furious face. She clenched the barrel end of the shotgun tightly with one hand, on the other she held an ID.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked as she noticed Gwyneth’s erratic breathing.

“What is this doing in your hoodie’s pocket, Eva?” Gwyneth held out an ID.

The image of Sophie’s lint covered ID barely peered through the darkness. Anna turned towards Eva in shock. Eva simply stood with her fists clenched.

“Why do you have this?! Did you do something to Sophie?” Gwyneth stomped closer towards the two of them.

Eva remained silent.

“Answer me!” Gwyneth yelled.

Eva clenched her fists until her knuckles went white.

“I knew your name sounded familiar, you’re that Eva. The Eva that blackmails and harasses students until their lives are ruined. The Eva that every freshman is told to stay far away from. The two faced, spineless, worthless piece of human filth, Eva Moore!” Gwyneth howled at the top of her lungs

“Shut the hell up you effing brat, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eva roared back.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re the reason why Sophie is always so depressed. You’re the reason that everyone avoids her. It's because of you that she’s in this place. It’s because of you that we’re in this mess in the first place. All because you’re a bully that can’t live without terrorizing others.” Gwyneth’s eyes began to water as her words quickened.

“It’s not my fault her dumbass got captured by that thing. Yet, here I am forced to crawl through this murder den and deal with you- a pathetic weak child- so that Sophie can go back to being pampered by her psychopath parents. Y’know what, I’m glad she’s in this mess. All I did was give her what she deserved,” Eva said coldly.

Anna looked at her with disbelief. Gwyneth’s mouth gaped open in shock. Her breaths quickened as she sprinted forward.

“You monster!” Gwyneth yelled at the top of her lungs while swinging the broken shotgun at her face.

Before Eva could react Anna stood in between the two and grabbed the shotgun.

“Anna?!” Gwyneth and Eva said in unison.

“Enough, both of you! Fighting now isn’t going to get us out of here, it isn’t going to save Sophie either,” Anna glanced between the two of them. “While we spend time arguing, that thing is catching up to us. We need to work together or else we will end up in cocoons like the others.”

“But-” Gwyneth started before stopping at the sight of Anna’s glare.

“Like hell I’m calming down, that brat called me an effing-” Eva stopped as Anna roared in a surprisingly loud voice.

“Eva you are smarter than this, stop wasting our time! What, are you trying to get yourself killed by that thing?!”

Eva and Gwyneth looked at her with anger and dejection respectively. After a few moments the two relaxed a little.

“Good, I’ll get the gate open and you too start making your way out,” Anna walked towards the computer. “We’ll talk about what you did to Sophie later, Eva.” Anna turned around and stared directly into Eva’s eyes.

“Whatever,” Eva spat as Anna walked away.

Anna looked at the computer screen.

“Press enter to continue”, a simple prompt read.

Anna pressed enter and the door began to churn to life. It slowly slid down into the floor, revealing stairs that led up to an exit. Anna’s head snapped towards the air duct as the sound of something shattering pierced through the concrete.

The Jester’s body poked halfway out of the air vent. Its neck split open and a tentacle shot out piercing the gate and stopping it from lowering further. Anna sprung out of the room and brandished the barrel of the shotgun. She smashed it against the tendril, causing it to unhook from the door and slightly bend the barrel. A massive crash roared out as the gate fell down. The Jester’s mouth gaped open and shot another tendril. Anna reacted in time and swung the barrel against it, causing the tendril to pierce into the ground behind her.

“Anna!” Gwyneth yelled as the gate finally lowered and allowed access to the stairs.

“Hurry up, Goldilocks!” Eva screamed.

Anna turned around and ran towards them. The sound of another part of the Jester’s body snapping open clicked behind her. Anna turned around to see two more tendrils shooting towards her. Anna narrowly stepped out of the way as they zoomed past her and towards Eva and Gwyneth. Eva managed to duck in time but Gwyneth yelped in pain as it grazed her side. The Jester began pulling itself out of the duct, its body contorting unnaturally to force its way through. Anna attacked the two tendrils, causing them to detach and erasing the progress that the Jester made.

“Just go, it’ll force its way out if I don't stop it!” Anna yelled at Eva and Gwyneth before turning back towards the Jester.

“No, we’re not leaving without you,” Gwyneth pleaded.

“Yeah, Anna. Hurry up, we can outrun that thing-” Eva said.

“JUST GO!” Anna hollered at them.

Eva stared at Anna as she held her bent, nearly broken, makeshift weapon in her hands ready to swing at any other tendrils that shot out. She noticed Anna’s firm stance, her calm and steady breaths. Anna glanced towards her with eyes filled with a furious determination.

“God dammit,” Eva muttered with a pained face before grabbing Gwyneth and dragging her up the stairs.

“What the hell are you doing?! We can’t leave her there on her own, we have to help her!” Gwyneth yelled in a panicky voice.

“We can’t help her if we’re dead, she said it herself we regain our strength and then we can save the day,” Eva grunted as she struggled to hold Gwyneth back.

“No, I’m not leaving her!” Gwyneth kicked and screamed as she tried to break free.

“We don’t have a choice!” Eva yelled into her ears.

The two slowly made their way up the stairs. Anna gave a relieved smile as she saw them approach the exit. She turned towards the Jester.

“I. Save. You.” It groaned as countless holes split out of its mouth.

“So you’ve said,” Anna braced herself. “Got anything new?”

Numerous tendrils shot out of its mangled body. Anna weaved in between them and deflected as many as she could. Pain surged through her body as the tendrils grazed her arms and legs. The shotgun’s barrel shattered to pieces as a tendril impaled through it. Anna fell onto the floor overwhelmed by the Jester's attacks. The wall crumbled into debris as the Jester yanked itself through. Its twisted and broken body stretched into a set of quadrupedal legs. More flesh burst out of its back and formed a makeshift torso. Flesh shifted into place as it carried the black orb to the center of its new chest. The tendrils retreated back to the main body, each carrying a chunk of concrete. They wrapped themselves into a set of arms. A massive cobbled together concrete lance reinforced with bone was wedged within the stringy flesh of one of them. A new head shaped itself at the top of the abomination of muscle and bone. The Jester turned grotesque Centaur howled with such ferocity that it shook the entire room.

“Save...” The Centaur stomped towards Anna as she tried to stand up and run, causing her to lose balance and fall back onto the ground.

“...you.” The Centaur cleaved the lance towards the gate and completely destroyed it.

Anna looked in fear as her only exit became nothing more than a pile of rubble. She turned to face the Centaur that towered above her.

“Take. You. Home.” It said slowly, its stomach opening up to an endless sea of tendrils.

Dread began to set into Anna. Her vision became slurred from the tears that began to well in her eyes as the tendrils inched towards her.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Anna whimpered as her hope vanished.

“Don’t be sorry yet...” Caroline’s voice rang from behind the rubble.

Two bright flashes of dark green light cut an X through the rubble, destroying it instantly. Caroline shot towards the Centaur brandishing two ethereal green sickles. She swung upwards at the Centaur. Its arms were cut clean off as the sickles effortlessly burned through its flesh. The lance shattered onto the floor as the Centaur tripped backwards in hollering pain. Pitch black smoke billowed out of its wounds.

Caroline stood in front of Anna. The green in her Warden’s uniform glowed the same shade as her sickles. Her coat fluttered in the air from how fast she moved. An emerald green crystal heart took the place of the sigil that was sat on her badge.

“...there’s still much more pain in store for you,” Caroline gave Anna a cold look before removing her coat and letting it fall to the floor.

The Centaur roared again as more tendrils shot out of its body and reformed its damaged arms. Bit of its chest became exposed, revealing the black orb.

“There you are,” Caroline rolled her shoulders before readying her sickles once more. “I hope you're a fighter.”

Caroline swung forward in an X pattern. The Centaur hopped backwards and avoided the attack. Chunks of concrete shot from the ground as it landed. It quickly grabbed them and threw them at Caroline with blinding speed. Caroline effortlessly avoided them and cut one chunk in half before it hit Anna. She pirouette forward and swung downwards with her right sickle. It hooked onto the Centaur's back causing it to yelp in pain. The Centaur swung its free arm towards her. Caroline cut through it, causing it to fall onto the floor as a lifeless stump. Before the Centaur could even scream in pain, she spun her free sickle and cleaved its chest wide open. The Centaur attempted to stomp on her legs in desperation. She hopped over its legs and pushed against its body. The sickle wedged in its back cut through its entire torso and hooked into the black orb as she did. She leaped off of its body, the black orb stuck to her sickle, and landed a few feet in front of the Centaur with her back towards it. The Centaur gave out a blood curdling battle cry as its body unraveled into a mess of coiled tendrils ready to spring towards Caroline.

“Hmm,” Caroline said as she hooked her other sickle into the orb. “Apparently not.”

Caroline turned around to see a wall of tendrils speeding towards her. She gave a sadistic grin as she pulled her two sickles apart cutting the orb in half. A ghastly wail echoed out of the Centaur as its tendrils fell limp. Its body began to dissolve into a dark violet smog.

“...save...me…” Anna heard faintly as the Centaur’s body dissipated into nothing.

Anna sat up as best as she could and looked at the remains of the orb. Its obsidian like form glistened with a faint light that rapidly snuffed into lifelessness. Anna looked up at Caroline through her pain and exhaustion.

"Sorrow neutralized," Caroline said into her radio. "Moving to extract the intruder."

“What are you?” Anna could barely manage to ask.

“The time for questions will come later. For now you and your friends have to go to pay for all the damage that you all have caused,” Caroline crouched low until she was face to face with Anna. “Welcome to a world of Sorrows, Miss Anna. I wonder if you’ll survive.”

A slight grin stretched across Caroline’s face as Anna’s vision faded to darkness.

…

Beatriz blew on her tea as she finished stirring it. She took a sip and stared peacefully at the sunny day that surrounded her. Her black hair had a few white strands and was tied into a braided bun. Her face was slightly wrinkled but her emerald green eyes burned with an eternal youth. She wore a uniform similar to Caroline's, but instead of having a gaudy coat she wore a simple scarf. A woman holding a folder approached Beatriz as she continued enjoying her tea.

"Lovely day is it not, dear," Beatriz smiled at the woman.

"Good morning, Mrs. Reine," The woman opened the folder and began reading from it. "An incident has occurred at Central Station, the chief is currently busy addressing issues in the D.E. Atham's academy and has requested your aid in alleviating the issue."

"Oh my, what could have occurred that would require my help?" Beatriz asked.

"Three intruders discovered the abandoned sections of the Central Station and unearthed a Sorrow nest. Two managed to escape to the surface before being captured by Caroline's team, the other was saved by Caroline herself."

"I see," Beatriz lowered her tea onto a small dish below her. "Why was the other saved by Caroline?"

"According to the mission report, it seems she stayed behind to stop the Sorrow from attacking her accomplices."

Beatriz looked up at the woman with a slight awe.

"What is her name?" Beatriz asked.

"Anna, Anna Hjarta," The woman replied.

"Anna…" Beatriz took one last sip from her tea. "What a pretty name".

[hateswifi]

Rising from the Ashes: Of Dates and Disguises

So this is Part Seven here is to my Master List and Part Six.

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

He texts back his Angel asking to go out this Friday night. She responded positively. He told her that he would pick her up from work. She told him not to overdo it or she wouldn’t talk to him again for a month. He promised he would try and keep it lowkey. Damian fell asleep with a smile on his face and a place in mind.

She wore a red a three-quarter sleeve dress the flows out between her elbow and wrist, the skirt is flowy and ends above the knee. She wore cute ankle boots and black tights. She grabbed her black mini purse. It was still cold, so she grabbed her navy blue winter coat has fluffy faux fur on the hood. The next day of Marinette’s work went well. 

She excitedly waits outside of Lucky Spot for Damian. She hears her phone ring, she picks it up. "Hi, Angel. I'm running a bit late. I got caught up in a bunch of traffic. I thought I would be out in time, but I'll be around ten minutes late. Can I pick you up at your apartment?" Damian asks speaking louder than need be.

"Damian, that sounds super loud are you ok? Are you safe?" Marinette asked, walking towards her apartment.

"Yes it's just traffic," Damian says. "Umm, I gotta go.."

"Oh ok," She said while hanging up. She finished walking home, texted Damian her address, and turned on the news. Robin and Red Hood were fighting Mr. Freeze. Well, they finished fighting they had Mr. Freeze in cuffs and was in the GPD's custody. Robin ran off out of view, the reporter talked about the fight when she heard a knock on her door. She got up quickly while turning off the t.v. and answered the door.

"Hey Damian," She smiles as she sees the boy, normally perfect black hair was quite messy, but handsomely messy, his green eyes sparkling in her dim lights. "Welcome to my humble abode. Would you like to take a look around?" 

"That would be lovely," Damian said, closing the door behind him.

"Just let me remind you that I've only been living here for a couple of days and not everything is decorated or how I would like it to be," Marinette explained, quickly. "This is my kitchen and living room it's an open floor plan." If you follow me this way I have what will be my sewing room once I sell this twin bed. This is my bedroom, it's a mess right now so I'm just going to close this real quick. Then the bathroom is right here."

"This is quite a nice apartment for only being here for a couple of days," Damian compliments. "It doesn't look like you have much stuff though. Did you not take any of your stuff with you? Did your family not give you any housewarming gifts?"

"I recently lost my parents, that's part of the reason I left," Marinette said her face falling a bit. "They died when our house burned down, so I started from scratch. The things I own now were either left by the last tenant left, hand-me-downs from Chloe, or things I recently bought."

"Well I'm sorry for your loss, but I know you're strong. I'll be here if you need my support, Angel, as your friend or something more," Damian said, Marinette ran over and hugged him.

"Thank you, Damian. That means so much to me," Marinette said into his chest.

"You ready for dinner, Angel?" Damian asked, rubbing her back.

"Yes, just as long as it's nothing over the top as I said last night," Marinette said, looking up at the handsome boy breaking away from the hug.

"Yes, come on," Damian said as she locked the door. They walked downstairs, Damian then opens the door to his car for her. 

"So where are we going?" She says, buckling her seat belt.

"It's going to be a surprise," Damian smirked, looking forward at the road, safety first.

"Can't wait," Marinette said, looking at the window, watching the city go by. "The city is so beautiful. Oh! I forgot to ask, did you get caught up in the Mr. Freeze traffic. I saw it on the news, man it must have crazy growing up in this city."

"You saw that?" Damian asked, looking over at the beautiful girl.

"Yes, it was the traffic light boy," Marinette smirked. "and Red Hood. They took him down quite fast, but Robin left quickly after Mr. Freeze was in cuffs."

"Traffic Light Boy?" He asks, remembering what Ladybug had said the night before. He smiles, knowing that the girl he wants as his girlfriend, is even more amazing than he thought. 

Marinette blushes as she explains. "I didn't know Robin's name when I moved here, but my first impression was a traffic light. The designer in me died just a bit but since it's a right of passage, and it's quite honorable."

"We're here," Damian said, getting out of the car then he opens the door for Marinette. "Welcome to the first restaurant my father took me to when he first got custody of me from my mother."

"This looks so homey, what food do they serve," Marinette asked, taking a seat on a stool at the counter.

"Burgers, french fries, hotdogs, milkshakes, and pizza. I hated American food growing up because my mother had me on a strict diet," Damian said. "It's still not my favorite, but I want you to have the full American experience. Do you want to get a little of everything and just split it?"

"Sounds good," Marinette giggles. "So you've heard about me. What can you tell me about you?"

"I grew up with my mother Talia and my grandfather. They were big on self-defense, I spent a lot of time on learning martial arts; I have achieved many black belts. I don't want to talk about myself, I want to hear more about you," Damian said. The waitress came over and took their order.

"I started designing at a young age because I didn't want to be in my parents' bakery shadow. They were the best in Paris, but I didn't want to disappoint them if I wasn't as good as them. As a thirteen-year-old in collège, I started designing for Jagged Stone. I also was found by Gabriel Agreste after winning a competition. He then let me release my line," Marinette told him. The food had arrived and as Damian said they split everything. "So what do you want to do after you're done with school?"

"As the only true blood heir to Wayne Enterprises my brother decided that I would inherit the company, but they would always help me," Damian said, taking a bite of burger. "How do you like American food?"

"It's pretty good, but it seems super unhealthy. I think I'll stick to homemade Parisian food for a while. Next time I'll make the food," Marinette said, pulling out her wallet from her purse to pay.

"Ok you know that I am a son of one of the richest men in the world, but you insist on pay, why?" Damian asks, taking her wallet before she could pull out money.

"Because, my prince, you were first Damian, Titus' owner. The boy I first met was adorably nervous, complimented me, and insisted on paying for breakfast as a sorry for being tackled by his dog," Marinette said. "I'll pay the tip. It's a tip or all meal."

"Fine," Damian said, giving her back her wallet. He paid the part he said he would. They left and he held the restaurant door open then also opened his car door for her. Damian walked Marinette up to her apartment.

"Thank you, Damian, for walking me up to my apartment," Marinette said unlocking her door then turns toward him.

"Thank you for coming with me. You make me happy, Angel,"  Damian said looking down at her. Marinette leaned up and kissed his cheek. He leaned forward and whispered. "Angel, may I kiss you?"

"Prince, I thought you would never ask," Marinette leaned up and met his lips. They are incredibly soft. They broke their chaste kiss. "Goodnight my Prince."

"Wait, Angel, will you be my girlfriend?" Damian said stopping the door before she could finish closing it.

"I would love that," Marinette said hugging him. 

"Thank you, Angel, for making my life brighter," he said, kissing her head. "Good night, Marinette."

"Good night, Damian," She closes the door with a smile, she slides to the ground.

The next morning Marinette got up and put on a straight long brown with blonde highlights wig she had bought earlier that week. She put on green contacts and wore the horse miraculous. She wore an emerald green shirt and her black skater skirt, all paired with green converse. 

“Hey, Chloe,” Marinette said into her phone. “I’m about the teleport is it ok if I use your room.”

“Ya I’m here now, I’ll be waiting,” Chloe said then hung up. 

“You heard Chloe, girls,” Marinette said looking at the kwamis. “Kaaliki full gallop. Full forth!"

The portal opened and she stepped through, now standing In Chloe’s room. She detransforms and hugs her friend. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Marinette said. 

“It hasn’t been a week,” Chloe said. 

“It feels like longer though. Guess what?” Marinette said breaking the hug now looking at her friend. 

“What, you got  Titus owner to be your boyfriend,” Chloe guesses, rolling her eyes. Marinette blushes. “Wait seriously? You’ve been in America for five days and you already have a boyfriend? I guess I need to come to America too. Help me pack my bags?”

“Chloe his name is Damian and he’s super sweet,” Marinette smiles. 

“Lila’s fake boyfriend’s name is also Damian,” Chloe snickers and then mimics. "Her Damiboo is so shy." They laugh together and Chloe takes a closer look at Marinette. "So who are you today?" Chloe asks

"Today I am Ann Prince, and I am here to visit my dear childhood friend, Chloe," Marinette said in a British accent, twirling.

"Hello Ann I'm happy to see you again, it has been ages," Chloe says, hugging her long lost friend. "What do you have planned for today?"

"Well, I would love to see the friends your friends you speak so highly of. If I remember correctly Adrien and Kagami have a fencing tournament, then Kitty Section has a performance," Marinette said with a smile.

"I'll text my friends to let them know that my dear friend Ann is coming," Chloe said texting them. "Want some lunch before the tournament?"

"I woke up, got dressed and came here, so breakfast would be better," Marinette said as they leave Chloe's room.

"How about brunch?" she says closing the door. "There's a small cafe near here we can go to."

"That would be lovely," Marinette said as they walk together in sync they talk about everything they had missed. They eat eggs and benedict. They talk about their futures, how Chloe is doing in school, and most importantly Christmas. 

When they arrive they sit in the front row. They're on the quieter side careful not to draw attention to themselves. After Kagami won the girl's division she came and sat with Ann and Chloe. She smiled seeing the bluenette turned brunette. 

"Good job you guys! Hi, my name is Ann, I'm one of Chloe's childhood friends," Marinette greeted, still speaking in her British accent. 

"Hi, I am Adrien Agreste, and this is my beautiful girlfriend Kagami," Adrien said, hugging Ann.

"Hello, Ann," Kagami said also hugging her. Lila and Alya walk up to the group.

"So who is your new friend, you're all so quick to replace Marinette. What? Is she a bully too?" Aha sneers. 

"Well I am Ann Prince, it is a pleasure to meet you," she said, holding out a hand with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Ann you don't want to hang out with these people, they are bullies," Lila warned smiling.

"Lila, why are you here?" Adrien said, stepping in front of Ann.

"I came to see you of course Adrihoney! You are my boyfriend!" Lila screamed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Lila, I've told you many times that we are not dating. I'm dating Kagami and have been for two years," Adrien said.

"We both know your father is making you date her. I'll be here for when you can finally be free from her cold claws," Lila said, walking off with Alya tailing behind her.

"Well, you guys ready to head to Kitty Section's performance?" Marinette asks.

"Sounds like a plan, Ann," Chloe said, locking elbows as they walk out of the school.

Kitty Section is playing at the TVi studio as part of a competition judged by Uncle Jagged. Apparently, he had been a bit quieter since his niece's funeral. She was excited to see her friends and her uncle even from afar. Luka won the best guitar solo, but Kitty Section did not win as a group. 

"Hi, Luka! My name is Ann and I'm an old friend of Chloe. It's nice to meet you," Marinette said still in her British accent, hugging the bluenette. "Congratulations, I loved your guitar solo! The rest of your group was pretty good." 

"Thank you, Ann, you guys ready for dinner? I’m starving," Luka said turning to the rest of the group.

"That sounds great! I haven't eaten since before the competition," Adrien said, rubbing his stomach.

They ate dinner together. They chatted and she told them the news of her and Damian. She told them about the Gotham heroes and everything in between. They told her about their Christmas plans. They smile as the pay and say goodbye. She left to go talk to Master Fu.

"Master Fu, it's good to see you, she says bowing. "I ended up in America, how are you able to get me the correct papers?"

"It's good to see you again Ms. Marinette. I like the wig and contacts a simple but good disguise," Master Fu compliments. "I just have my connections, don't worry it's nothing illegal."

The process didn't take long and soon she was heading back to Chloe's room. She opened the door to see her friends sitting down watching an anime. She sat down on the couch her friends and watch half an anime before they're interrupted by a bing.

Prince: Hey Angel how are you doing

"Aww Damian is texting," Marinette said, smiling at her phone.

Angel: Pretty good. what've you been up to today?

'Prince: I had a couple of meetings today. They were boring, but I'm alive. How bout you'

Angel: Chloe video called me so I could watch Adrien and Kagami's tournament. Then Kagami video called me so I could watch Luka's performance. It was fun. Want to come to my apartment tomorrow for a homemade meal

Prince: I would love that

Angel: Great see you, tomorrow prince

Prince: It sounds like you're getting ready for bed, but do you realize it's only two o'clock

Angel: Seriously I didn't even realize it

Prince: Lost in a design?

Angel: No, Adrien recommended us all a different and new anime, Sword Art Online. It's pretty good

Prince: Well I hope you enjoy it. Dick is telling me to pay attention. Bye Angel.

Angel: Good luck, Prince.

Marinette smiles, standing up while saying. "Guys. I should be going. It's already eight here, two in Gotham. I'll miss you guys, I'll be back for Chinese New Year and regular New Year." 

"Well we can't wait to see you again Ann," Adrien said, hugging the girl the rest join in the group hug.

"Kaalki, full gallop," She transforms back into Mare. "Thank you for announcing my moving, by the way. Full forth. See you guys soon." Then she was gone. She had taken some French food she had missed a bit. She put the food in the kitchen, and grabbed her sketchbook, wanting to sketch her new found inspiration from being home. After a couple of hours of designing, and a shower she went to bed early because of jet lag sorta.

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

Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64 @thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer @ginamarie1512 @chocolatecatstheron @iggy-of-fans @crazylittlemunchkin @komatsuna-yuki @weird-pale-blonde-person @ellerahs @sinnamonroill @daminett4life @queenmj10

[motleymoose]

Homecoming Pt. 3: Bits & Pieces Ch. 1

Chapter 1 Ashes in a Vacuum

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars Characters: The Mandalorain (Din Djarin), Gender Neutral Reader, The Child Words: 2.5k+ Warnings: Injury, Angst, A whole lotta attitude

Summary:

I AM ALL SORTS OF ANGRY AT THAT FRAGGING BUCKETHEAD!!! He's leaving me with more questions than I have the ability to ask, and I don't like it one bit.

But dang, that little greenie is cute!

Notes:

Heya! Thank y'all for reading!!! I'm not sure how many chapters this part is gonna have, so??? We're coming up on the halfway point of the story. Maybe my editing skills will improve by then (ha).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Homecoming Masterlist

The way everything hurt, I was sure I was dying.

Squinting at the dim, fuzzy gray light of my bunk, I ran an internal diagnostics check. With every little wiggle and flex of an appendage, I gradually realized that I was not, in fact, dying, but I wasn’t in prime fighting shape either. Slowly, gingerly, I scrubbed sleep from my burning eyes with the heels of my palms, my vision spotty and fuzzy in places. It felt good to let them linger, pressing heavily into the closed eyelids and relieving the pressure built up behind my eyeballs. As killer headaches went, the one I was experiencing in that moment wasn’t the worst I’d ever had, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like doshing kung.

Now that I was sorta awake, I took physical stock of my body. My eyes still wouldn’t clear, the large flecks of gray shadow swimming lazily in my periphery, so I used touch to see what was going on. Letting my hands do the work, I started with my head, running my fingers lightly down my neck to my shoulders and chest. Something felt off about the shape of my body as I continued to scan downwards to my hips. Foggy memories swirled inside my head, screaming and pain and choking smoke. A jumbled mess of noise and smells overpowered everything else, and the bits and pieces of the fight and flight from Bosph scattered nervously into the darker recesses of my brain.

Frustrated, I sat up, ignoring the sharp tug at the pit of my elbow and the violent, painful thumping rattling my brain. “Fragging buckethead,” I hissed through clenched teeth. He had got me in this mess. Sure, it was my fault for getting a bounty put on me, but if only he’d listened to me in the first place, we coulda avoided Bosph entirely. The anger, bitter and sparkling and pulsing red, numbed the headache and the bruises slightly. And as the ire rose, so too did the functionality of my brain.

I could focus now on what my hands had been trying to tell me: all of my possessions, from my boots to my jumpsuit and everything in between or tucked into pockets, was gone. A worn coarseweave tunic hung from my curved shoulders, the sleeves neatly rolled up around my biceps, and a newer looking pair of long johns, the baggy legs bunched around my knees, had replaced my utilitarian and well-loved apparel.

Oh Mother of Kwath! Had the Mandalorian undressed me?! I mean, I was an adult. He was an adult. And apparently I had been injured enough to warrant such an invasion of privacy. Still, I couldn’t fight the blush burning brightly across my chest and face.

So doshing uncomfortable.

Nope, nope, nope. Didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Pushing down all of the humiliation and trauma and apprehension until the feelings were little more than an annoying itch under my skin, I allowed the rage to take over a little more. It was easier to be angry than to feel anything else, the outrage a warming presence in my chilly body. It also gave me the little boost of courage for what I had to do next.

Screwing my eyes shut, incredibly unprepared for the worst possible outcome, I touched the place under my collarbone where my silver skull pendant rested, a solid, reassuring weight...

Nothing.

Instead of skin-warmed metal, I was met with warm, padded resistance. Peering into the neck of the tunic, I found a thick, dull-colored wrap encasing my midsection from under my armpits to my hip bones. It smelled of the sea on a warm summer’s day, and I wrinkled my nose automatically. Bacta. Whatever injury I had sustained must’ve been bad enough to call for the precious, oftentimes expensive goo. The wrap wasn’t so tight as to constrict breathing or some movements, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

The physical uncomfortableness brought me back to the question of why the bounty hunter was keeping me alive, but just like all the other feelings, I ignored it. I needed to find my clothes, my necklace. Get dressed. Leave this beautiful ship and her tyrant pilot behind and become a krill farmer out on the Outer Rim.

Well, probably not a farmer. A droid mech, perhaps.

The soft skin on the inside of my elbow twinged again, pulling me out of my daydreams as I reached for the blanket covering the lower half of my body. A thin, clear tube snaked from a needle inserted into a vein to a nearly-empty pouch hanging from a hook in the bunk wall. Fumbling, my fingernails worked their way underneath the sticky medical tape, peeling up an edge wide enough to pinch. I ripped the tape from my arm, gritting as it pulled hair and skin with it. Once the tape was gone, I slid the needle out of my arm with a hiss, tossing it aside to leak between the cot and the bunk wall. Whatever cocktail of drugs the bounty hunter had mixed into the IV, he’d probably added a good dose of sedative to keep me down for the count. That would’ve explained the fogginess.

And it made me so mad.

I let the full-blown, all-consuming fury in, jerking the coarseweave blanket off of me and freeing my legs. Exhaling forcefully, I tested my injured knee, poking at the matching bacta bandage. The original searing-white agony I had experienced on Bosph was muted now, less of a screaming torment and more of a dull throbbing. Healed enough to put weight on. Hopefully

Groaning and cursing at stiff muscles and bucketheaded hunters respectively, I wriggled on the bed until my bare feet skimmed the floor. The cold steel of the hull platform sent shivers through my flesh, feeding the annoyance and anger and frustration. I inhaled, steadying myself for the shooting pain sure to follow standing on both legs. Pleasantly astonished as I was that it didn’t hurt too horribly, I wasn’t prepared for the lightheadedness. The blood rushed from my face, my vision blackening around the edges.

“Oh frag,” I managed to croak before slumping to the floor in an unconscious heap. --------------- I awoke, some time later, inside my bunk. The coarseweave blanket was tucked firmly beneath my chin, the IV reinserted into my arm, and my red-hot rage completely dissipated. An imposing, blurry figure stood at the foot of the bunk, and I took my time adjusting myself from lying flat to reclining, eyes tightly shut to avoid the spinning shadows. Once I was comfortable, I cracked an eyelid. The Mandalorian’s blurred steely stare greeted me, a clear bag of liquid over one arm and a sling supporting the other.

“You’re awake,” he stated matter of factly.

“D-Didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of travelling in silence,” I replied dryly, voice husky with disuse. “By the way, where’s my jumpsuit?” I opened my eyes all the way, blinking rapidly to dispel the fog coating them. It didn’t work.

The bounty hunter harrumphed softly. “Incinerated. You had a fractured knee, two broken ribs and a blaster wound to the stomach. Plus severe retinal damage and dehydration. You’re lucky you even made it off-planet.” He angled his visor away from me to tap out something on his vembrace.

“Wait, what?”

He tilted his visor towards me and put it simply. “You almost died.”

I feebly waved the non-IVed hand in front of my face. “No, not that. Did you say you incinerated all of my stuff?!”

Ignoring me, per his style, he continued to tap on his vembrace’s control panel.

Devastated, depressed and not a little bit murderous, I glowered squintily at him. I was reeling inwardly, but on the outside I was colder than carbonite.

As he ignored me, I studied him as closely as my recovering vision would allow. I could tell there was something different in his appearance, but it took a moment for me to recognize what it was . A softer quality to his edges that I couldn’t quite understand, his body looking less defined, less bulky than normal. I blinked several times to refocus, and was rewarded with infinitesimally better vision.

“Where’s your armor, shabuir?” I sniped. I may have been more than a little miffed that all of my worldly possessions were now ash and lumps of twisted metal, and biting at a Mandalorian was a temporarily soothing balm to my aching heart.

The hunter reached over me and unhooked the empty bacta IV bag from a rod above my head, replacing it with the one he’d brought. Adjusting the solution valve, he tapped the drip chamber twice before turning his attention back to me. “There’s a spare jumpsuit in the ‘fresher. Keep the bacta wrap on for another hour, at least.” As an afterthought, he added, “We’ll be on Nevarro in a few days.” A frown tainted his voice. “Stay out of my way ‘til then.” Spinning on his heel, he marched to the ladder and disappeared onto the upper deck.

………

It took about twelve hours for me to feel well enough to rid myself of the IV and bacta wraps and get out of the bunk without having the ship buck underneath me like a wild bluurg. I took that time to cry myself to sleep, wake up and cry some more. The loss of my tools and kit was a huge blow to my self-worth, but the loss of the pendant, well. It was the only piece I had left of a life full of fear and hunger and love; it connected me to home. If I didn’t have that, where did I belong?

It took another three hours for me to get up the nerve to get cleaned and dressed. I prowled around the cargo hold, poking and prodding at the carbonite storage, the control panels and the refresher. There hadn’t been much of a chance on my earlier voyages to explore, so with the Mandalorian occupied guiding the ship through hyperspace, I felt emboldened to figure out more about him. Not that there was much to glean from my investigation; the hold contained only the basics of survival for deep space travel, and weapons. Lots of weapons.

Oh, and several beings in what looked to be forced-stasis, frozen in carbonite.

Shivering in sympathy for my hold companions, I turned and shuffled back to the bunk. What I really had hoped to find was the incinerator - most ships kept them below near the back for easy dispatch of trash - but I hadn’t found hide nor hair of one below deck. It could’ve been located above. Not exactly the safest or most pleasant location, yet with all the fire power and carbonite in the hold, it kinda made sense. No need to put three dangerous elements all in one place, if you had the room.

A little voice at the back of my head reminded me of something else: that fragging Mando had all but ordered me to stay put. If he thought for one second that I was going to listen to him, he had another thing coming. I held no ill-will against Mandalorians in general, but this one was getting on my bad side. First arresting me and then almost getting me killed and then destroying the only thing I had left of home reminded me that I only had myself to rely on, that everyone else was out to either disappoint me or kill me.

I’d be doshed if I was going to let that buckethead dictate what I could and couldn’t do, especially since he was the one who took me off that Maker-forsaken moon in the first place.

Especially since he handed me over to Mihcas without an apology.

And took my pendant and tools to boot.

Ascending the ladder turned out to be a formidable feat in my weakened condition, but I prevailed. It took more effort than it should have, and I collapsed onto the cool steel platform once I made it all the way up.

“What are you doing?” The modulated baritone came from my right. Swiveling my head, I watched as the bounty hunter stomped out of the captain’s quarters, a bundle of clothes clutched to his chest and fingers unsurprisingly reaching for his blaster. Whatever was in the bundle must have been precious, for he shifted it away from me to his injured arm. It obviously still hurt; he held the bundle in the crook of his elbow, awkwardly bent and trembling with effort.

Good.

Rage flared in my chest, licking its way up like flames and leaving a red mask pounding behind my eyes. Pushing the anger away, I clambered up to my feet. I was going to get answers, and I’d be fragged if I was going to show emotion in front of him.

“Where’s the incinerator?” I spat savagely. So much for not showing any emotion.

Obviously taken aback by my vehemence and bluntness, he cocked his helmet and pulled his hand from his blaster, resting it casually on his belt buckle. “Why?”

Simple enough question, simple enough answer. But I didn’t feel like answering him. Opening my mouth to respond, a cooing sound interrupted me. It sounded like it was coming from the bundle still shielded in his injured arm.

Snapping my jaw shut with a painfully audible click, I raised my eyebrows pointedly at him. “Trafficking something illegal there, chakaar?” Anxiety clenched my stomach in its viselike grip, and I had to force the bile from rising in my throat. I was still weak from Bosph, but if he was buying and selling living beings to make a living, he was no better than my ex-boss. No better than me. Which meant I was going to have to hurt him or die trying.

A sharp hiss of an inhale through the vocoder told me I’d hit on something. Something he didn’t want me knowing. A whispery stream of very impolite Mando’a floated in the space between us. The air was thick with tension, and both of us were patiently waiting for the other to make the next move.

The coo came again, slightly muffled, followed by a bubbly giggle, startling us out of our stare-down. The bundle wriggled, and the Mandalorian shifted his attention from me to it as the thing became too much to handle with one injured arm. Grunting either out of pain or frustration, the bounty hunter stepped backwards until he was in the doorway of the bunk. Squeaking and chittering indignantly, the lump in the clothes broke free with a victorious huff.

And it was the cutest fragging thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.

_____________________

Notes:

chakaar - corpse robber, thief, petty criminal - general term of abuse shabuir - extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger

[blankdblank]

Next Caller Pt 7

Use of Come Wake Me Up Lyrics.

Ok, the feather image is a clearly edited copy of another tattoo i found so just pretend it’s more feather-ish in shape. :D

And apologies, i dozed off there a little bit trying to finish a request, which alas i did not...But here this is :D

.

Across the street you trotted smirking at the acorn decorated door you eased open and stood in the doorway of to keep dry while closing and tapping your umbrella to cast off any droplets. Inside your eyes lowered to the stand you set it on and turned to find Bilbo exiting the room in the back to reach the counter to speak with you.

“Miss Pear, I am glad to see you. How is your home? Nice and cozy?”

“Well I finally get to extend my bed full size, but from my apartment to that it does seem a bit more like a mansion at times.”

Softly he chuckled saying, “I bet. Now, I suppose it’s down to business then? Any ideas on what you might want?”

Anxiously you wet your lips and said pulling a photograph of the galaxy background on your laptop from your pocket you passed to him. His eyes scanned over it and you said, “It’s a bit odd, bear with me,” you said flipping in your notepad to the folded sheet with a feather outline you also passed him, “my laptop, that’s the background, simple purple blue and pink galaxy image but then I have a screensaver that had floating bubbles. And I was thinking maybe a feather with that as the design, galaxy with bubbles on it?”

Your brow inched up and he chuckled saying with a wag of his finger, “Come on back.” He said guiding you to his station he brought out a sheet of tracing paper and copied the feather outline he laid over the picture and nodded, “I can do this. Should be simple, shift it around a bit.” After wetting his lips he asked, “I was wondering if I might be able to see what your uv markers are?”

You nodded and into the back piercing room for privacy you went at his offer and shrugged an arm out of your shirt bunching your shirt out of the way for him to see the dots and dashes coating your upper left bicep over your shoulder to a section over your shoulder blade. The markers roughly done had left visible white scars evident of your struggle in the painful stamping machine that inflicted them before you were thrown back into a cage to be air dropped onto that island. Mostly faded now but with the bright few in the creases and spots hard to be worn down by friction with clothes or sun exposure his jaw dropped seeing the remainder of the runes used to identify you for your prisoner’s code.

“Is it bad?” You asked in his silence while he made another trip over your markers with the uv light in his hand.

“No, it actually could be something quite easily covered, any ideas?”

“I was thinking maybe uv birds or floating feathers and bubbles maybe, small ones?”

With a grin he pulled over a piece of tracing paper he laid over your shoulder he marked exactly where the markers were and the shape of the skin to be covered saying, “I think that would be lovely. I will do my very best to make it as delicate a process as possible.”

“I can handle the pain.”

“I realize that my dear, though some of these spots will need some extra attention, I don’t want to hurt these scars any more than necessary.”

“Dwalin said it best to wait a week, would that be too soon?”

Bilbo shook his head, “Not at all. My Saturday is free if you wanted to come by then and keep Sunday to rest up.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Curiously you looked him over and asked, “How’d you and Dwalin meet?”

Bilbo smirked saying, “He saw me in the shop and came by one day asking for ladybugs on his finger to break the silence. Ended up with a bracelet and left a rewards card for his shop. It had a catchy slogan and I popped by. Pitifully bashful back then the big mug. Just couldn’t resist tormenting him.” Curiously he looked you over, “A pass time you seem to enjoy as well.”

Softly you giggled seeing him lining up the feather tattoo on the same sketch sheet after marking the size and slant needed to trail just below your collar bone, “Can’t help it. He just flounders, usually I’m ignored.” You said adding you arm through your sleeve again catching his stolen glance at the pair of belly button rings you had, one under and the other over marking the Elven tradition of marking the entrance into womanhood. “Though lately he seems more interested to find out what I do on my shift at the hotel.”

“Ah, yes I did hear that.” Making you giggle again.

“How early do they open?” His brow inched up, “Thought I might bother them for an early morning cup for my first job, it seems I can’t find my kettle.”

To himself he chuckled and replied, “They get in around three most days.”

“And they complain I don’t sleep.”

He chuckled again, “Well they do split the days with their evening staff. Either way they’ll let you in.”

The bell sounded and out again into the storm you went allowing him to get onto the next person’s idea for a possible tattoo. Back home you went and starting in your study you opened our first trunk eyeing the shelves you pulled scattered items off of to disperse through the house. Your arm chair was alone in the sitting room and the table usually with it in the dining room. Around the atrium you hung paintings and sketches with your piano in the center of it.

The books were left in their usual places and the trunks stacked to your usual liking to keep your system in place. Inside your closet the items to remain in cubbies were shifted to the section below a tall hanging cutout and your few pairs of shoes added to the shelves while you would have to wait on the rest until you got hangers to set up the rest in whatever order you wanted. All the trunks were checked twice and with a grumble you wondered where your kettle had gone to. Mid lunch break after signing up for a slew of decorating magazines you switched browsers from kettle shopping back to your show you were watching and settled in for a semi relaxing day at your new home until you would call it a night.

.

With a huff and a pout you eyed the empty tin holding your last packet of cider you pocketed in your jeans under the back panel of your mid thigh reaching grey sweater that ties over the bust. Pocketing your phone you grinned again remembering the elated response to the video you sent to your family in Lindon on a tour of your home and had mentioned your new promotion. It only took three centuries but things were finally looking up.

Reusable mug in hand you grabbed your umbrella, shouldered your bag and headed out a bit early to add on your detour with a nice cushion for time to possibly make your grump blush if he was there. On and off the rain came down around your sizable umbrella all the way to the dimly lit shop. Behind the counter Balin spotted you and called for Dwalin, who hurried over from wiping down the stools and tables to unlock and hold the door open for you.

“Hey,” you said earning a grin from the mohawked Dwarf as you closed and put up your umbrella, “Thanks, Bilbo said you wouldn’t mind.”

Dwalin, “Bilbo was right.”

Thorin begins the counter asked, “He said you wanted hot water?”

You nodded holding your mug you set on the counter he smirked easing the holographic swimming duck coated mug closer to him until he saw the packet you pulled out of your pocket. “My last one, and I seem to have lost my kettle. I could use a pot but Kuu always comes out when I do, because I have to boil peas for him when I cook using them and I’m low on peas..” accepting the packet he flung it over his shoulder, “Hey..”

“We have cider here. Much better than that stuff.”

“And just where does it say that?”

He turned pointing at the salmon coated section on the last menu board, “Cider, which variation did you want?”

“Caramel? Do you have caramel?”

His brow inched up and he asked, “Can you read Khuzdul and Hobbitish?”

“I can. I could put a toaster into orbit if I wished I’ve five math and engineering degrees but I can’t understand what sort of, language, all that is. Never could. Just go for coffee and it’s fifty questions. Something hot, in a cup.”

Unable to help it he turned lifting your mug, “Caramel cider coming up.”

“Oh,” he paused and you said, “No whipped cream. Please.”

He nodded and turned again prepping the drink asking, “What type of kettle did you have? We might be able to get you a good price on a new model. We got a guy.”

“Um, blue.” He glanced at you and you said, “Got it at a rummage sale. Talked him down to half off cuz it didn’t have a lid or handle.”

Dwalin, Balin and Thorin turned to look at you as the first asked in a lean on the counter beside you, “And just how did you use the kettle without a handle or lid?”

“Not very well it seems now that it’s taken off on me. Had to fashion a set of tongs, had a lip at the top and I got this decorative metal plate I put over the top but if I left it too long it would fly off. So I usually only got lukewarm water unless I was up to playing hot potato.”

Lowly Dwalin chuckled turning away faking a clearing of his throat to hide the reaction and Thorin said, “I’ll find you a decent kettle.”

“You don’t-,”

Balin, “Consider it a housewarming gift, from all of us.”

Thorin walked over with your mug he added the lid to on the walk over he set down, “Plus, then you can study up on your teas.”

“Which box should I start with then?” You asked passing the bills over.

“Box?” He replied.

And you nodded, “Of tea, at the store, they sell them in boxes with cute little bags inside.” You giggled out brushing your hair behind your ear as his hand folded around the bill in the clenching of his fist through a twitch of his brow.

“You don’t buy tea at the store.”

“Then what are they selling in those bags?”

“Not real tea!” He fired back, “I will get you some tea, real tea! None of that poster child pretend groundings they sell by the barrel!”

You nodded and said after a glance at the clock, “Well I will see you later. People get a bit reckless in the rain, have to go dodge some cars on the way to the station. Thank you again.”

Back to the door you went as Balin and Dwalin called out, “No problem, come by anytime.”

Dwalin poked Thorin’s shoulder making him snap back to consciousness and call out as you exited the door, “Yes, you should always come first.” The door shut but not in time to block of your bubbling giggles while Dwalin and Balin began to taper off into sputtering laughs while Thorin rested his forehead on his arms crossed on the counter, “First thing, first, thing, one word. Ugh..”

Dwalin patted his back and continued on to work saying, “Least now you know you have a way in.”

Thorin’s head lifted up, “Making an ass of myself?”

Dwalin pointed at the board, “Lass needs to learn the brew. If she’s tied to you-,”

Rolling his eyes he sighed out, “She’s not tied to me.”

Balin gave a final few chuckles adding his two cents, “Thorin, she came here for hot water. No doubt her station she works at has functioning coffee makers.”

Thorin’s mouth opened, “I-,” sharply he exhaled then added, “Did not think of that.”

Balin, “Now we just have to double check the batteries in the radio...” he muttered on his way to the back.

Dwalin followed after, “Bought more yesterday.” Though lost to his thoughts Thorin got to browsing on his phone as to what style of kettle you might like. Deciding on a simple one like his at home, a blue and white checkered one with a large handle above the crystal topped lid. The more he tried to focus on getting ready he just couldn’t and was lost to wondering how every day could be split up into a new lesson for you expanding your time together.

*

“Today is a bit different, no longer up at the Misty Mountains, it’s me Bunny bringing you straight out to the Villa Esquiyemme out here in the unreachable abode of Duke Troublen. Now I know you are asking me what I am doing out here in the middle of a sea of snow when it is perfectly blustery back in Erebor, well the issue comes with the fact that my guest today is not my guest but in fact my host. Who just happens to be on house arrest and I am currently talking into my purse where all of you are hiding in on this conversation, so if you happen to find my pen do nudge it out for me because I love my Twiggy and I miss it dearly.”

From the booth Mal sat back in her chair grinning behind her propped up hand with a finger tapping her upper lip waiting for her cue. You had warned her today would be different and it certainly was. An espionage interview with muffling effects thanks to a handkerchief you laid over your mic with lifesavers and a brush you would occasionally brush across the desk to remind people that they were hiding inside your purse.

For the first hour muffled banter bled into a full scale argument being rehashed while the Duke had shared how he had landed into this dilemma. The first hour break for commercial came in a faked making of popcorn while you raced to the bathroom. And once back the sound cut back on right in the middle of the Countess, named as the Duke’s mother in law, having forced you into the corner playing an old record. Shushing you to boot allowing you to turn off your mic for a few calming mouth exercises for relieving your mouth from the tongue twisting stretch of dialog you had just read off.

Piano music softly played and lost in the sea of things Dwalin’s finger pressed to his lips silencing the woman blabbering on to her friend who loudly shushed her as well to hear the soft melody beginning on the piano. A soft song of devotion played through the air waves and everyone felt the hair on their arms rising along with tiny bumps at the ethereal voice of the host being played on record from sort of performance centuries prior enamoring they even more for their anonymous confidante.

On the other side of the glass Mal held up a page asking, ‘Is this you?!’

Replying back on another sheet your page read, ‘My sisters made me swear to play it this week.’

Her grin deepened and you rolled your eyes. Readying to pick up again switching on your mic you covered again to hit your hand on the desk knocking over a cup of pens causing a clatter stirring up a jumble of an argument melting into your being caught in the arrival of the Duke’s mistress.

And just when that was getting juicy you cut off he mic again and signaled Mal to play your intro music making everyone listening in sit up wide eyed confused if it was over only to hear you again, “Hey Hey, don’t you worry still me Bunny. Ear to the ground as always for all the juiciest in the lives of our dashing Durin boys. Now that you’ve all climbed out of my purse we are back to the Misty Mountains not under a sprinkle but a deluge against my prediction on the forecast. Anyways still mourning my dearest missing flamingo pen Twiggy we are back again with the impregnable force that is Frenn and his dearest Adrianna. And if I have this right we should be marking down days for a bassinet search, shouldn’t we?”

He deep baritone voice crooning out to the airwaves making people nearly vibrate with excitement at how juicy their plot line was getting. Clues had set the show as based decades prior by the ‘current events’ being a war or film release from that time but no one gave a damn at all soaking in every word.

On the other side of the glass wall you caught Ecthellion and Glorfindel watching with grins partially hidden behind their raised fists to help contain their reactions all the way through their sign off. Into the hall you went once your book and empty mug was back in your bag. Flashing the pair of them a grin, “So, still good?”

Ecthellion chuckled, “More than good.”

You gave an excited pitifully withheld squeak in a bounce on your toes and your gaze shifted to the suddenly approaching Frank, who worked on the other end of this floor. All of five feet the stunner of a portly Dwarf with silver beard tied in bubbles by connected leather tethers ended with bells marking each of his children and a four braid style for his hair pulled into a series of loose braids dangling down the center of his head that swayed from side to side. For a moment his brown eyes were on you and he passed you a note, “Message for you.”

“Thank you,” You said reading the post it he passed you simply reading, ‘Call him tomorrow.’

“Um-,” you said as you looked back up at him again.

With a shrug he said, “That’s all Kristy wrote down.”

Lowly you replied, “We really have to get someone to fill in after Trina goes to the other station.”

Glorfindel, “Other station?”

“Ya, after lunch she goes to the Tulip Tower station.”

Glorfindel’s brows furrowed a moment, “Hmm. We didn’t buy that one. We’ll have to see which she prefers.”

Frank, “Her wife works there. No brainer she’ll choose that one.”

Ecthellion, “We’ll get someone on the desk then. Lily did say she wanted a new position.”

Frank said, “Either way you might want to get a second line just for messages for Bunny’s show, been having some guy calling in for a week now.”

Ecthellion and Glorfindel looked at one another and the former asked, “He leave a name?”

Frank shrugged again, “If he did Kristy didn’t write it down and Trina didn’t either.”

Glorfindel nodded and he said, “We’ll have Lily take down his info and we can look into him.”

Pocketing the note you said, “Well I’m off to go pester a grump. I will leave you to your hiring.”

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed playfully, “Pester a grump, huh? Last time you pestered a grump you nearly ended up engaged out in Gondor.”

“That was a misunderstanding.” Making him chuckle again, “He had no intention of dating me let alone proposing. That was between him and those five bottles of wine he downed. All I did was complement his shirt.”

Ecthellion, “Sure it was, with that smile and sassiness of yours.”

Playfully you replied, “If you’ll excuse me, me and my sass have to get some tea before my next shift.” That made them both chuckle and head out to call Lily to try and get a head start on whoever has been calling the station. Hoping for the best it wasn’t anyone your father had known back to spoil things for you.

*

Fifteen minutes since you sat down Thorin had been ranting about tea, at first trying to explain just what made this day’s selection so special only to delve into the history of how this strain had been planted and farmed for centuries. Smirking at the Dwarf frowning in determination your head rested in your palm and between sips you focused on each spiraling thing he had shared with you until a refocusing blink from Thorin had him taking in your expression. Lowly he cleared his throat and after a woman approached with a request for one of the specials he promptly stood up and walked off. Drink fixed and back again he came to claim your empty mug after staring lost for words a few moments at your grinning self. Blush fixed in place he relented to his embarrassed silence distracted by the next few asking for specials.

The empty table however had the grump growling to himself and while you were off to your train to the hotel he had finished his next few orders and grabbed his coat saying, “I’m going shopping.”

The notion had his cousins smirking, and the finally arrived employee who had gotten their babysitters in line curiously looked the trio over utterly lost. Shrugging it on he made his way out back unlocking his car he eased into and started up to make his way to the shop. Determined as ever he had to make certain to fix this, he had to find a way to get both of his feet out of his mouth. He didn’t mean to rant on about tea. It was an odd profession, but a quarter Hobbit on his mother’s side meant time with Gran Tulip was spent in the Hobbit lands between Erebor and Greenwood. For all the urgings he should be forging or crafting items from wood not staring wide eyed at the tiny blooms he had helped to cultivate.

There was a whole language of flowers and everything flora. Everything alive and growing and so much more incredible than what he had felt forging. With good tilled earth came company and with it more languages to learn. The wrong tea or biscuit could do great insult meaning he had to delve deeper into the uses of a well forged kettle. Most people didn’t care, but with the shop came the sprout sales and the bi-monthly courses on what each brew meant and what to use for any ailment or hormonal deficiency. You could at least read Khuzdul and Hobbitish so that was a good base to start with, as for passion for the subject he hoped you might grow interest in it and possibly accept some sprouts of your own for your spacious greenhouse he tried to not be so insanely jealous over.

Having spent years peeking into Gloin’s collection of virtual tours and simply feeling himself unready to split off from his brother and nephews just yet after having left home with Dwalin. Dis had left when she was engaged and Balin had lived with them until he had gotten married and had a baby on the way to enforce a need to find his own place to start his family in. Somehow Dwalin had eased out of their place in time for Frerin to pop in, the former in a fleeting relationship he had assumed to last leaving him in a small flat of his own able to suit his dating needs of privacy. Dwobbit homes were always his favorite and even with the off pictures for the home you had chosen it always seemed to call to him. Just something about that forest green door beckoning him inside.

“Plenty of room for a roommate,” Gloin had teased on their ride home when his pout appeared at being called away, but he tried not to think of that. He couldn’t dare push that issue with you, just over a week knowing you. Already having forced himself financially and into the process of taking you from one dwelling into a home you never assumed you could have afforded.

What he felt for you even with his family teasing and joking that he should make a move he wasn’t certain. He wanted to know, he wanted to be certain why every interaction with you left him so lost for words. A Dwarf so able to argue the bark off a tree or a stubborn goat off his treasured stump now left baffled on what to say or do when you were around. Tea could very well be the answer, or the finishing blow to his ego. Once again possibly be left speechless after boring you to death in another rant, but it couldn’t have been that. Once parked he sighed palming his keys with his mind running back to that look you had given him, the one that snapped him out of his rant, a peaceful partially awed expression straight at him due to his passionate rant.

Shaking his head he climbed out of his car ignoring the sprinkles on the path inside the building run by a friend of a cousin on his Hobbit side. Between the shelves of pre-ground herbs and tea leaves into the basket he grabbed he settled a healthy amount of tea along with a whale infuser with a double finger hook to pull it out. His last selection was the book of all books concerning tea he treasured his own copy off when he first started out. Just like his the round bodied blue and white checkered kettle with a tall handle and crystal topped lid was added to the basket. Up to the counter he went and it wasn’t till he made it back to his car and turned his head to eye his selection he wondered how he would pass it over to you.

Before work was out of the question so back home he went and over lunch his gaze turned from the pack of sticky notes he’d yet to break into back to the book. With a notepad he made a basic to do list for each variation and left notes added to each section he imagined might need more clarification for you. The large bag that was left by a quarter to midnight he loaded back into his car and took a sleepless night in order to drive to your place. Out front he parked and walked around the car to grab the bag, turning back to pause and flash a grin to your formerly jogging neighbor who had heard a small single woman had moved in.

“Hi.”

“Evening,” the burly Dwarf replied looking him over.

Thorin wet his lips saying, “My cousin helped Miss Pear move in, we all did, and she drops by our tea shop,” he said pulling a card out of his pocket, “Warming gift, some tea and a kettle.” He said showing the curious Dwarf who eased in seeing he wasn’t lying, “Her shift ends in a bit, didn’t want to leave it long.”

The Dwarf nodded and pointed two houses over, “Our home, you can wait it out there, if you had hiding in mind.”

Thorin smirked, “Thank you.” Turning to head down your walk and leave the bag outside your door and turn back to move his car following the jogger back to his house conveniently out of clear sight. The pair of them both anxious to see your return ducked behind the front fence where the jogger asked more questions about his plans and intentions only to fall silent in seeing your path down the crystal lit sidewalk up to your front gate you trotted through with echoes of a soft hum coming from you. The burly jogger memorizing your path to possibly ensure he or one of the other watchmen kept an eye out for you until a vehicle of some sort could be found for you to ensure your safety.

All the same under the faint glow of the crystals lighting your front porch you lifted the bag and a soft giggle was heard in your path through your round door, once unlocked and opened lit more of the contents. Weakly Thorin chuckled and again thanked the jogger, who said he’d be in to try the tea shop sometime with his wife, who was now in the window wondering what her husband and the stranger were up to. Back to his car he went and off home Thorin drove grinning to himself imagining all you would feel or say upon further inspection of your gifts. Off home he went hoping to see you in a few hours perhaps for another helping of cider if you hadn’t yet bought more of that pitiful cider powder you imagined to be enough to power you through your first job after little sleep between jobs.

* Hours prior *

“Something wrong?” Turning your head you grinned at the asking Dam shaking your head.

“No, just spent some time being told the intricacies of tea leaves by the most serious Dwarf on the planet.” Chuckles followed at your own giggle in adjusting the skirt on your uniform over your hot pants it snapped onto to keep in place. A single glance at the mirror on the wall and your top was adjusted next making sure everything was covered but amply accentuated.

“In a good way or was he telling you off?”

You turned to face her tucking your side swept bangs behind your ear and confirming your hair combs connected by beaded strands holding your rolled bun in place, “The best way. Tried to tell me what was in my drink and got swept away. The most incredible grin he’s been hiding behind that scowl of his.”

That rippled giggles through the room of ladies all heading out for their own floors in the building more suited to their own strengths. Even here you were a bit odd but now their post shift meal would have ample gossip to try and imagine what sort of Dwarf you would fall for after so many years of giving no signals of being interested in anyone.

I can usually drink you right off of my mind

But I miss you tonight

I can normally push you right out of my heart

But I'm too tired to fight

Yeah the whole thing begins

And I let you sink into my veins

And I feel the pain like it's new

Everything that we were,

Everything that you said,

Everything that I did and that I couldn't do

Plays through tonight

Tonight your memory burns like a fire

With everyone it grows higher and higher

I can't get over it, I just can't put out this love

I just sit in these flames and pray that you'll come back

Close my eyes tightly, hold on and hope that I'm dreaming

Come wake me up

To yourself you grinned and on your second floor post scrub of a bath in the suite you were mid hum along to the song playing on your mini speaker hooked to your mp3 player. Adding the trash bag from there to your trash bin on your cart you removed your gloves and lifted the vacuum you unwound the chord on and plugged it in to start vacuuming a quadrant of the room. More trash was gathered and around the already made beds you worked through the second of the twin rooms and made your way to the main sitting room where you paused seeing Tili and Dis both entering the room while you wiped down the dining table there.

“Evening.” You squeaked out straightening up and putting the bottle down on your cart you tried to drop your rag onto only to pause cross eyed making the pair smirk seeing you ease the loop on the fraying cloth stuck around your glove clad finger.

When that was dropped you eyed the pair only to see Dis looking you over saying, “No need to stop, merely we have a guest requesting a picture from one of the bedrooms on this floor to confirm it is the same from our website. Bit superstitious on room numbers.”

You smirked and turned to head to the coffee table to scrub that as well while Tili stood in the doorway keeping an eye on you smirking seeing your toe top reach and disgusted scoff at the underwear on the lamp you added to the trash once retrieved with the grabber on your cart. Leaving the gloves on the cart you got to digging in the couch and rolled your eyes pulling out more ‘hidden treasures’ then vacuumed it fully with cushions and spare pillows fluffed and woven throw traded for a fresh one you folded just so and laid it across the back of the couch to picture perfection.

Closing the distance again Dis neared you when you were assembling your cart again to head to the next room, “How do you like your new home?”

In a glance up at her your grin widened, “It’s perfect. I’ve always wanted a Hobbit Style home. And the greenhouse is to die for.”

Dis chuckled as Tili did, the former saying, “Well I know my cousin Gloin has been thrilled to have settled you in a good home.”

“Ah, so you’re the former Durin,” her brow inched up and you said, “Not that-, he mentioned a relative married into the Findis clan. Eyes should have probably given it away.” After a moment in her smirk at your momentary head tilt you said, “You sort of remind me of this driver I met.”

Tili giggled out, “Frerin?” You glanced at her and nodded, “Her baby brother.”

“Ah,”

Tili, “Do you have family?”

“In Lindon, my Naneth and her husband have two girls. Just nearly in school.”

Dis, “Your parents are divorced?”

“They weren’t married. It’s sort of, complicated.” In the awkward silence you said, “Congratulations, more babies!” The grin splitting across your face stirred one on hers.

Dis, “Thank you. Do you have children?”

Your brows inched up, “No, but I have birds. Which I realize aren’t the same as children. But they are alive and thriving so points in my favor.” That made Tili shift to be behind you a moment fighting back her body’s urge to giggle.

Tili, “Yes it is. Any partners?”

You shook your head, “No, up till last week it wouldn’t have been fair time or fund wise to be with anyone.”

Dis in her try to be subtle asked, “Anyone spark your fancy to possibly try with?”

“Um, I think it’d probably be best to leave fancying to the guys, I tend to get a bit, hard to explain. Get a bit too wild in my daydreams, I suppose, on how interesting I might be for anyone caught in my sparking.”

Tili waved her hand, “No doubt you’ve tons of sparking fellas after you. We’ve heard you have been enjoying stops in at the Brew and Grew to see the guys?”

“Ya, it’s been, life changing, to say the least.” You chuckled out, “Plus it seems I’ve been lied to my entire life and stores do not in fact sell tea in tea bags.”

Dis chuckled, “Ah, Thorin brought that up?”

“Yes. Apparently is set on buying me a kettle to replace my lost one, and is determined to educate me on tea.”

Tili, “If you want out of it just bring up corn variations and that’ll spark up Balin and they’ll give you a chance to run for it.”

You shook your head in a brow raising giggle from you, “I think it’s sweet. Hard to find what you’re really passionate of, too many people try to flee it can be deflating. I do like tea, and learning things. If he is up to issue the challenge I will call him on it and see who wins out on top in determination.” A call had them heading back down and leaving you back to your work, you giggling at your own reminders of the giant grump while the pair in the lift giggled themselves at a worthy opponent for Thorin’s unending joy from the tiny sprouts and herbs.

Pt 8

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shesakillerkween

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​, @jotink78​, @pastelhexmaniac

[hermannsthumb]

75, but kinda like a secuel to your fic for 3?

halloween is over which means it’s officially that time of year where i watch a bunch of shitty hallmark movies as background noise and imagine newt and hermann in all the romantic scenarios instead........AND revisit all my leftover winter ficlet prompts from last year! the op of the original prompt list has since moved to pillowfort so i’ll link the list from there instead. this one is a sequel to one i wrote last year (one of my favorites of my own imo) w/ cool uncle hermann and hot single middleschool science teacher newt found here

75. our first date is spent walking around our small town holding hands and talking as soft snow falls around us 

from winter writing prompts here

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

It gets dark before long, and--following a quick text from Karla informing Hermann she’s finished her errands and is on her way to pick the three of them up--Hermann decides he ought to round up her kids. The string lights hung around the ice rink have flickered to life, and between them, the haze of the falling snow, and the fresh piles of it gathering atop the nearby pine trees, it makes for a strangely pretty picture.

The snow flecking Dr. Geiszler’s eyelashes makes for a pretty picture, too.

“I’ll get them,” he says, when Hermann stretches his stuff limbs with a groan and prepares to trek back across the snow. He stills Hermann with a hand to his arm. He’s still wearing the silly mittens. “No offense, dude, but they’ll definitely listen to me more than you.” He waggles his eyebrows and gestures to himself with his thumb. “Teacher.”

Hermann nods and sags back against the railing. He wasn’t fancying the idea of shaking life back into his frozen joints and shouting himself hoarse anyway. “Thank you, Dr. Geiszler.”’

“Newt,” Geiszler corrects with a wink. “You wanna hang back with me so we can get that coffee? My apartment’s only a few minutes away, I can give you a ride to your sister’s afterwards.”

“Oh,” Hermann says. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” Truthfully, he hadn’t expected Geiszler to make good on his invitation. Hermann isn’t the sort who gets asked out on spur-of-the-moment dates, especially not by cute, scruffy strangers; it seemed too good to be true.

“Be a second,” Geiszler says, and then cups his hands around his mouth and bellows, “Hey, guys, over here in five minutes or you’re on lab clean-up duty for all of January!”

This gets their attention. Fast. After a minor setback involving a missing hat (found, as it were, in a snowbank on the other side of the railing), they’re ready to go with time to spare when Karla’s car pulls up at the curb. She rolls down the passenger window while her children (pushing aside shopping bags and flinging in wet coats) clamber into the backseat, and waves at Hermann. “Did you have fun?” she says.

“Oh, loads of it,” Hermann says, sarcastically. Karla grants him a small, amused smile. (You’d be hard-pressed to get much more out of a Gottlieb, really. Hermann often envies her children for how easily mirth comes to them.)

“Well, your torture is over at last,” Karla says. “Get in. I got Indian takeaway for dinner.”

Behind Hermann, Geiszler coughs, and Hermann flushes. He hadn’t forgotten Geiszler--not by any means--but he’s not quite sure how to explain I have a date to his sister in terms that don’t use the word date. Date carries an awful lot of baggage. “Ah, actually,” he says. His voice sounds falsely casual even to his own ears. “That won’t be--necessary. Dr. Geiszler has offered to take me home.”

“Hi,” Geiszler says.

Karla peers around Hermann and narrows her eyes. “You played the piano at the winter program,” she says.

“Sure did,” Geiszler says. “I organized the whole thing, too.”

“Dr. Geiszler is going on a date with Uncle Hermann,” Hermann’s niece informs her mother solemnly. 

“It’s coffee,” Hermann says quickly. “Only coffee.”

“Coffee and a ride back on my motorcycle,” Geiszler confirms.

Motorcycle? Karla nods slowly. “Of course.” The window rolls back up, but not before--like he’s still her kid brother, and she’s caught him sneaking out the back door at midnight to meet up with a boyfriend all over again--she calls out “Don’t stay out too late, Hermann!”

Her car peels away.

Geiszler sticks out his hand. Hermann takes it.

The coffee shop Geiszler takes him to is two blocks away on main street, kitschy and tacky as anything from the outside, and has, predictably, closed early by the time they get there. The sign in the window blames it on the inclement weather. Geiszler scuffs his unlaced boot against the snowy sidewalk and groans. “Well, fuck,” he says. “Sorry. I guess there’s always Starbucks. This place rocks, though, I wanted you to see it.”

Hermann gives his hand a consolatory squeeze. “Oh, I don’t need coffee, anyway,” he says. “The cup you bought me at the rink was just fine.”

“The cup I bought you at the rink tasted like shit,” Geiszler says.

“It was fine,” Hermann says.

“Dinner, then,” Geiszler says, peering up the street at whatever still has its lights on. Most of the businesses, Hermann realizes (from the Indian place Karla ordered from, the antique shop, the used bookstore) have closed early tonight. There’s a single diner, equally kitschy-looking, still lit up with neon. “Do you like…” He hums. “...Hamburgers?”

“Not particularly.”

“Neither do I,” Geiszler admits. “What about--”

“How about we just take a walk, Dr. Geiszler?” Hermann cuts across. “I’m really not that hungry, and it’s...a nice night.” It is, really: fluffy snow, and old-fashioned lamp posts, and not a car in sight. Geiszler’s rainbow flappy hat and lumpy mittens. 

“It’s Newt, dude. Newt,” Geiszler insists, but he links their arms together with a smile.

They make their way back down to the park that houses the skating rink--now also closed for the night--and start down a small, well-lit path. “So what’s the infamous Uncle Hermann doing in all the way over here?” Geiszler says. “The kids said you teach in England.” He nudges their shoulders together and grins. “You don’t exactly sound like a local, anyway.”

“Winter holiday,” Hermann says. “I’ve a month off of work, and nothing to do with myself, really, and I don’t see my sister all too often--well, she thought it’d be good for us if I came to stay. For me. What’s a scientist doing at a middleschool hosting winter programs?”

Geiszler laughs. “The arts are important, man!”

“But a middleschool--out of everything you could be doing--”

“I like it,” Geiszler says. “It’s--I don’t know. Fun. I like teaching kids. Like I’m shaping scientists of the future or whatever.” Hermann hums, skeptically, and Geiszler sticks his tongue out. “Okay, I know that was corny. Shut up.”

They loop the whole of the park, hand-in-hand, and talk about the most inconsequential things: the weather (the first snowfall Hermann’s witnessed this December), their research (Geiszler is astoundingly intelligent, with a comical amount of PhDs), Geiszler’s mittens (personally hand-knitted after all), how much longer Hermann is in town for (until mid-January), how Geiszler ended up at that middleschool in the first place (he moved to town to be near his father, and they were hiring for Earth Science and Music). Their footprints have entirely disappeared under fresh snow when they make it back to the ice rink. It’s far later than Hermann realized, too; the large clock hanging at the front booth reads a quarter past ten.

“I guess I should take you back to your sister’s,” Geiszler says. He points in the opposite direction of where they walked main street before. “I’m down that way. I--”

He doesn’t get to finish, because Hermann (feeling pleasant and bold) leans in and brushes a kiss against his cheek. It’s cold and scratchy with his stubble. “I would like to do this again,” Hermann says, while Geiszler blushes and gapes. His glasses have slid all the way down his nose. Hermann pushes them back up for him. “If you’re amenable.”

“Wow,” Geiszler says, giddily. “Sure. Okay. Hah!”

Then he steps directly onto a patch of ice and slips and falls on his face.

Luckily, he hits the snow, though he does lay there for some time and groan. It’s a bit dramatic. Hermann pokes the small of his back with his cane once he starts to get bored. “Are you alright, Newt?”

Geiszler groans again, though with a distinctly affirmative flair, and rolls over. “You called me Newt,” he says. He pushes his glasses back up again.

“I did,” Hermann says, with a very small smile. Then he shivers. The chilly air has gotten a lot more noticeable now that he’s standing still. “Now please get up and take me home before we both freeze to death.”

“Cool, okay.”

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Ties in Blood Chapter 4

I was informed that the link for chapter 4 is just chapter 2. So, this is me fixing that.

Chapter 4

Aaliyah looked through the few books Dean had left in the room as she attempted to starve off boredom. They and Amanda had agreed that Aaliyah would stay with Xander while Dean made a run to the store for her brother and Amanda made a food run. Aaliyah’s stomach had twisted into knots at the thought of being the only one to stay and protect her brother. Amanda stepped in and assured her that they’d be gone no longer than an hour tops. Dean also left a hand gun and a few full clips in the off chance of receiving unexpected visitors.

Aaliyah froze when there was a knock at the door. She reached for the gun and motioned Xander to the bathroom. Another knock sounded as the bathroom door closed.

“Who is it?” Aaliyah called, easing a round into the chamber.

“Housekeeping.”

Daring a look through the peephole, Aaliyah didn’t see the cart housekeeping would have for their rounds. “We’re fine, thanks.”

“I insist.”

The knob jiggled as Aaliyah put the chain on and took a couple steps back. She brought the gun up just as the door slammed against the chain. One good shoulder hit and the person was in the room. Panic set in before something clicked in Aaliyah’s mind. She aimed and pulled the trigger, the unexpected kickback sent her back a few steps.

The intruder straightened and rolled their shoulders. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Aaliyah glared as she aimed and pulled the trigger. The intruder continued to move toward her, eyes completely black.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop going around digging?” the demon asked Aaliyah. “You’re going to …”

Aaliyah shot the person in the chest. The body thumped to the floor as she waited for the black cloud to burst from the mouth. She dared to get close to the body before the black smoke shot out. Startled, Aaliyah backpedaled and hit a bed. The second time the same demon came with the same message: Stop digging. Why would a demon want her to stop digging around for her father?

“Aaliyah!” Xander’s muffled voice called from the bathroom. “Aaliyah, talk to me!”

“I’m here,” she called back. “Just … Hang on for a minute.” She spent a few minutes looking for her cell and with a shaky hand dialed Amanda. “Hey … um … remember that demon that told me to stop? The one that said that there was a hit on me? It decided to make another visit. No, I’m fine; just a little shaken. There’s a body to take care of though. Xander’s in the bathroom. Okay.” Aaliyah ended the call and with a shaky hand tossed the cell onto a bed. She had gone to college to learn how to save lives, not to take ‘em. She opened the bathroom door to find Xander sitting in the tub with his knees to his chest. “It’s safe to come out.”

Xander sat there for a moment before easing himself slowly out of the tub. Aaliyah stepped back out into the room and looked down to the gun still in her hand.

“What happened?” Xander’s voice broke into Aaliyah’s mind. “Aaliyah, talk to me.”

“Demon possession,” she told him, her eyes on the dead body. “Had to kill the person.”

“Demons? This is crazy, Liyra.”

“I’m not so sure, Xander.” Aaliyah pulled off the blanket of one of the beds and put it over the dead body.

“How is a demon possession not crazy to you?” Xander tilted his head as a few pieces fell into place. “This isn’t a first for you.”

Aaliyah nodded. “Think it’s the same demon, always the same message though. Stop digging around.”

“Digging for what?”

Aaliyah caught a shadow from the motel door and brought up the gun before her brain recognized Dean standing in the threshold.

“Nice reflexes, sweetheart,” he complimented. Dean held up a couple bags in Xander’s direction. “Here’s a bunch of stuff for ya.”

Xander accepted the bags and returned to the bathroom while Dean peered under the blanket.

“What happened here?”

“I’ve got a fanatic after me,” Aaliyah half joked, getting a look from Dean that told her to tell the truth. “A demon. Don’t ask me why, but this is the second time it told me to stop digging.”

“Well, that’s one thing we’re not going to do,” Dean said, standing. “We’ll head out when Amanda gets back. Don’t wanna be around when the locals find the body.”

***

Aaliyah put the last few pieces of wood on the pyre as Dean tossed a match onto it. The lighter fluid caught the flame and for a moment the sarcastic thought of wanting marshmallows passed through her mind. She allowed her mind to wander back to the days before her fight with the werewolf before mentally questioning herself why she decided to dive back into that world. Answers to the questions that had been floating through her mind for the past few years.

“You did good,” Dean’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“Huh? What?” Aaliyah did that little head shake as her mind came back from wherever it wandered off to.

“Handling the demon today,” Dean reminded her. “You did good.”

“Then why’s there a big hole in my gut? There’s gotta be a way to save people from that … demon.”

“The only way to stop it is to solve the case,” Dean told her. “We’ll get a few hours of sleep before we move again.”

Aaliyah watched the pyre burn a little more before joining Dean in returning back to the motel.

***

“Why is there never anything good on?” Amanda complained when Aaliyah walked into the motel room.

“Because it’s a motel,” Aaliyah told her, stepping out of the bathroom. “What did you expect? Casa Erotica Seven?”

“No, they’ve got that.” Dean held up the little display showing the porn movie.

“Yeah, not watching a porn movie.” Amanda started flipping through the channels again. “Way too awkward at the moment.”

“You’re telling me.” Aaliyah tossed the towel she had been using to dry her hair back toward the bathroom. “I don’t wanna be watching it with my brother in the room.” She picked through the leftover food, taking a few bites of a burger before her body refused more. Unsure if she was still full from earlier or if she just wasn’t in the mood for eating, Aaliyah joined Amanda on the bed they were sharing. “Oh, wait. Go back a couple channels. There.”

“Disney channel?” Dean half questioned.

“Hey, television’s still a new thing for me,” Aaliyah defended. “We had no tv growing up. All books and imagination.”

“It got us up through middle school,” Xander tossed into the conversation. “That one, though.” He gestured to Aaliyah. “Still read.”

“Still do, when given the chance,” Aaliyah countered. “Granted it’s been mostly medical books.”

“Why medical books?” Xander asked.

“I was in the medical program up at U of M.” Aaliyah shifted on the bed.

“Was?”

Aaliyah looked down at her hands in her lap. “I left to meet up with Dean to find out what happened to Dad and you. Hadn’t expected to find you first.”

The mattress sank under a new weight. A hand came into Aaliyah’s view, bringing her gaze up. “I should have come back and told you what I was doing,” Xander told her.

A groan came from Dean. “Chick flick moments.”

***

Aaliyah grimaced at the outfit Amanda had picked out for her. “Really?” A few hours roaming the clothing section of the store and the two of them returned to the motel with two matching sets of a black skirt and coat with a white button up shirt. Tan hose and black heels that didn’t go any higher than an inch or two. 

“Gotta have the right outfit if you’re gonna play the part of the Feds,” Amanda told her, putting the clothes down. “Take it from experience, you won’t get answers from the local government if you’re look like a civilian.”

“But I am a civilian,” Aaliyah argued. 

“Not since the moment you called for help,” Dean pointed out. “Better yet, when you put that knife into the werewolf.”

“Which reminds me?” Xander asked, approaching Aaliyah.

Aaliyah was turned away from the outfit. “There was a werewolf roaming the University of Michigan campus. Took a bit of work, but I managed to take it out.”

“She kicked ass,” Dean tossed in. “Took some scratches, but she came out alive.”

“You got hurt?” Xander started looking for scars.

She brushed him off. “I got scarred, not bitten.”

“How bad?” Aaliyah glanced over to Amanda, who nodded, before stripping off her shirt. She heard a hiss behind her before feeling a light touch of a few fingers tracing her scars. 

“If I had known…” Xander told her.

Aaliyah flared her arms a little to keep Xander away from her. “I survived despite what you see.” She lifted her arm to show off the scars on her side. “I don’t know how it happened, but I survived. As for the Feds suit, I don’t see how it’d help if we have … two and a half days to figure out what happened to Father before Amanda and I need to get back to college.”

“Short time for finishing a case,” Dean commented.

“Thanksgiving break,” Aaliyah told him. “Believe it or not, I actually wanna graduate in a couple years.”

“Then we got work to do.”

***

Aaliyah stood at the side of the car and looked up to the single story home that held her childhood. Waist high tan grass hid whatever toys she and Xander had growing up. The late fall sun barely gave enough heat as a breeze rustled the grass.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Amanda said. “The place could be monitored.”

“We’re far enough way from the neighbors they can’t see us,” Xander told her. “Not like anyone’s gonna worry about a house that’s sat vacant for six years now.”

“Are you sure there’s answers here?” Dean asked Aaliyah when she caught up to him.

“I want to believe it. Something’s not sitting right in what my father did when he wasn’t working.” She looked around as Dean pulled out something and started picking at the locks.

The locks gave way and Dean eased the door open. He pulled out his handgun before stepping into the house. Aaliyah followed his movements, still unsure about having a gun in her hands. Her footsteps led the way into the kitchen where dishes from the day the local law enforcement came and told her and Xander what happened. Cobwebs hung off the ceiling and walls and Aaliyah could swear she saw droppings from creatures she didn’t want to know of.

“House is clear,” Dean called from somewhere.

Aaliyah whistled and started into the living room. More signs of rodent life, maybe a racoon or two. Flashes of childhood memories leapt through her mind as she continued for her father’s room. Dean was looking at the numerous pieces of paper and lines of yarn strung up and stuck to the wall with push pins. Aaliyah’s mouth dropped a little.

“I can’t make heads or tails on what’s happening here,” Dean told her.

She picked up an old newspaper article with the headline “Large Wolf Sightings”. The article also sported a blurry picture of what the caption said to be the large wolf. Tilting her head in such a way, Aaliyah swore the image was similar to the werewolf she took down. “Dean, look.” She held up the article for him to take. “It might be something.”

“So, this was what Father was doing all that time,” Xander commented when he walked in.

“You knew?” Aaliyah turned her attention on her older brother.

Xander shrugged. “Like I was gonna come out and ask him about what he was doing in here alone. Never thought it went this far.”

“Xander, ever see your father with this?” Dean held up a leather bound book with small pieces of paper sticking out of the pages.

“Once or twice for a quick minute. Why?”

“It’s like the one my old man has. Seems yours was a hunter.”

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Parenting 101 For Rockstar Dads

Ch. 2- Meeting The Family

True to his word, Jared agreed to go to Lake Charles to meet the rest of Nessa’s family and Jackie came along as well; Jackie’s family and Nessa’s family go way back since their grandmothers are best friends and go to the same church. It was a four hour drive from Shreveport to Lake Charles so Jared had quite a bit of time to prepare himself. “Nessa’s family ain’t nothin’ to be scared of. They just old school.” Nessa and Jackie filled him in on the etiquettes of meeting the family. “Make sure you greet everybody, and make eye contact with everyone in the room, cause someone gon feel some type of way if you don’t.”

“Yes ma’am, no ma’am, and no sir, yes sir at the end of every question and answer,” Nessa said as she turned into a gas station; Nessa and Jackie would go in for snack run while Jared would full up he car as everyone takes turns to use the restrooms. As Jackie and Nessa washed their hands, Jackie asked, “so... you think y’all gonna get married?” They threw their paper towels in the overflowing trash can and went out in search of food. “I don’t know Jackie. We barely talk about it, and I don’t wanna be the one to bring it up.” They picked out chips and cookies, and trail mix for Nessa.

Jackie had her hands full with the snacks as Nessa got the drinks. “You about to have his baby and you don’t want to bring up marriage? I think now is a perfect time. Y’all have been together for two years now, and been best friends for longer than that.” The girls paid for their things and walked back put into the cool air. Jared was pumping gas and he smiled as he saw his baby mama walking to him and he could feel a dopy grin spreading on his face. Holy fucking shit did he love this woman.

He finished pumping the gas before running inside to use the restroom and Jackie and Nessa finished their conversation. “Nessa, did you see that look he gave you? He was lookin’ at you like you’re some type of goddess. As if you hung the stars and the moon, and you out here thinkin’ he don’t wanna marry you?” “Jackie, we’re still young though, and I want him to marry me because he wants to, not because we’re about to have a baby.” Jackie rolled her eyes and opened a bag of chips. “I’m sure he was gonna do that anyway. This man really loves you Nessa.”

Nessa was about to answer when Jared came jogging to the car and sliding back in the passenger seat. “So what were you two ladies talking about?” Nessa handed him a package of chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of juice. “Uh. Just some baby names,” she lied smoothly. “Really, already? We have some time before we have to start worrying about that.”

Nessa pulled out of the gas station and back on the road; they were two hours away from her parents’ home. “I know but it’s a big decision to make. Once you name your kid, it’s put into the system, and you can’t just change it if you don’t like it.” She was nervous about naming her child; one small mistake and she might end up ruining their life. “Okay, so what names were you thinkin’ about?” “I really like the name Jordan,” Nessa mused.

Jackie snorted and popped another chip in her mouth. “Because we don’t have enough mixed kids named Jordan,” she muttered and Nessa looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Oh? And what’re your choices?” “If it’s a boy, Austin, if it’s a girl, Natasha.” Jared twisted around in his seat and stared at her.

“Natasha? Seriously? It sounds like either a Russian spy or hooker.” “Or a Russian spy disguised as a hooker,” offered Nessa. “What if they don’t look like a Jordan or an Austin or a Natasha?” Jared wondered. The last thing he wanted was to ruin their life before they even had a chance. He didn’t want to mess it up.

“Well Jared, if you don’t like my names I’d love to hear your picks. Since it’s your child.” “James if it’s a boy and Chloe if it’s a girl.” “They’re not horrible. I was sure you were gonna pick some hippy ass names,” Jackie answered; Jared wanted to mess with her a bit. “Well, now that you mentioned it-” “Jay don’t even think about it. These names are perfect. Well, here we are.”

Her parents’ house was a little ways away from the city, where the houses were spread apart. Jared could see people setting up a grill, and there was a table with a checked tablecloth with food on it, and the music coming from a radio. He could feel his heart beating and he wanted to pass out, but he had to be strong. For him, for Nessa. For his child. The engine cut off and Nessa turned to him

“I promise Jay. Nothing to be scared of.” “As much as I hate to interrupt this sweet moment, can we get out this car before I get a fucking cavity?” Nessa ran her fingers through her ponytail and sighed. “She’s right Jay, it’s now or never.” Jared could also see a bunch of kids running around, chasing each other, fast as their little legs could carry them.

In a few years that would be his own kid, joining their cousins. Jackie was the first one out, scooping up a little boy and swinging him around as she attacked him with kisses. Jared and Nessa got out the car and the boy ran up to Nessa, wrapping his arms around her legs. “Auntie Nessa!” He reached for her to pick him up and she squeezed him tight, the boy looking over her shoulder at Jared.

“Auntie, who dat?” She laughed and set him down. “This is my friend Jared. Jared, this is my godson Anthony. Ant, can you say hi to Jared?” Anthony gave him a shy little wave as he kept one hand on her leg. “That’s better. Where’s ya momma and the rest of them?”

Anthony pointed to the house and pulled on her hand, telling her what was going on. “... Marcus said a bad word at school so Momma gave him a whoppin’ and now he’s in trouble.” “Anthony, I bet not hear anything about you sayin’ stuff like that. You hear me?” Anthony led them to the kitchen where Jackie was already, helping prepare the food. 

“Hey Mama.” Nessa’s mother, Mrs. Arceneaux turned around and gathered Nessa and Jared into a hug; there was a lot of shrieking between the two of them and some more women coming into the kitchen to see what the noise was about. “How come y’all ain’t tell me you were comin’? Your daddy and I woulda had your room prepared and everything!” “We just wanted to surprise you is all,” replied Nessa. Jared met all of Nessa’s family members who passed by the kitchen, doing double takes and probably wondering who the hell this white dude was eating up their food.

At long last, her grandparents came in, and her grandmother stared right at Jared; Nessa took a break from her food to hug them. “Hey Grandma Jo, Grandpa Robert.” “Nessa, baby, I didn’t know you were comin’ down this weekend! Regina, why you ain’t tell me she and Jackie were comin?” “I didn’t know either JoAnne. Y’all want something to eat? Nessa fix your grandparents a plate.” Nessa was about to get up but Grandma Jo declined.

“I’m fine sugar. Just get me a glass of tea. I don’t wanna interrupt you eating. And while you gettin’ my drink, you can tell me who this white boy is.” She made her grandparents’ drinks as she explained. “Grandma, Grandpa, this is my boyfriend, Jared Leto.” Their eyes widened as they took him in. “This is Jared? Regina, I thought you said he was a brother.”

“No JoAnne, I said he has a brother.” Soon word had spread around the house that the white boy Nessa brought home was her boyfriend and everyone had to see if it was true, Jared was interrogated for fifteen minutes on how they met; when they began dating, and why Nessa was just now bringing him around, and they had to tell the truth. “Well the thing is... I’m pregnant.” It was like time had stopped and it was too quiet. Her grandmother was the first to speak.

“Nessa Dominique Arceneaux, do you have any idea what kind of shame you just put on me and your grandfather? What’s the church gonna say when they find out the preacher’s granddaughter is pregnant and unmarried.” Nessa only rolled her eyes and continued eating as everyone started arguing with one another. “They won’t say nothin’ because they’ll be minding their own damn business.” While she was arguing with everyone, Mr. Arceneaux motioned for Jared to follow him outside. It was quiet for a bit as they walked, nothing but the sound of the grass and leaves crunching beneath them.

“You know Jared, when I pictured this moment, I imagined that it would be when Nessa was out of school, married and a little older.” Jared hung his head, his longish hair flopping in his face. “I know sir, but I will marry her Mr. Arceneaux.” Her father nodded, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets. “I believe you Jared. Nessa is... very happy with you. But there is something I want you to know.” 

Jared pushed his hair back as they continued walking. “Yes sir?” “I want you to know that you are in fact dating a black woman, your child will be considered black as well.” Of course Jared was aware of Nessa’s race, but he never gave a thought to his child’s race, and Mr. Arceneaux could see that. “You didn’t think about that did you?” “No sir, I haven’t,” he mumbled.

Mr. Arceneaux clapped his hand on Jared’s shoulder in a fatherly way as they continued down the road. “Yes, your child will be mixed race, but the world will only see them as one thing: black. They’ll experience things that you won’t, and there’ll be times when you can’t protect them.” Jared already knew what the soon-to-be grandfather was talking about, he’d seen Nessa go through it. How many times did he see white girls give her the nastiest look when Jared told them he was dating her? The looks they got whenever they were out in public?

Jared felt like an idiot for not even realizing that his child might go through the same thing. He felt his heart break when Nessa’s father said there would be things that he wouldn’t be able to protect them from, but it would be a reality. “I know you’re going to be a good dad Jared. You won’t be perfect but there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. You make the decisions you think are right and hope for the best.” The wind picked up, blowing the brown leaves everywhere and making the trees shake. As they walked back to the house, Jared soaked up every bit of information he could; everyone seemed to calmed down  as they were still gathered around Nessa.

The rest of the weekend was spent getting to know her family better, and like Nessa predicted, everyone warmed up to him and he even played games with the kids. Someone even trusted him enough to hold their baby, it felt right. Maybe he can handle being a father.

[phantomphangphucker]

They Say Fire Protects... - DannyMay - day 14 Fire

Summary: Val’s tough, Danny knows that. But trial by fire is past her limits.

Warning: fire/burns, serious injury, threat of death, gore, blood

Valerie groans as she clutches at her stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood, groaning, “shit man, fuck”. Slamming her back against a charred wall with a sharp hiss. This was not her day, not only had she forgotten her medical supplies at home, but she was also pretty well out of everything. Well, besides the stuff she rarely used, like regular bandaids. Looking down at the large shredded and burnt gash running from the side of her left ribs to her right hip bone, there’s no way bandaids were useful here. At least her helmet protected her from the smoke, and fire.

This was also one of those days where she got reminded how she could never stop what she does. The nanobots make her blood a fair bit thicker and that made her blood just feel wrong, as it sluggishly spills over her fingers and arms. Plus, she’d rather take this injury herself, than some citizen; even if hospitals were out of the question for her. Pushing herself off the wall with a harsh stagger, she knows full well if she loses too much blood not only will she pass out but she won’t have enough nanobots in her system for her suit to function. Which would be a death sentence inside this damn building. Summoning her board with a groan, and clutching to it as she smashes it through the wall; gritting and baring the wall of flames that met her.

She doesn’t get very far though before nearly slamming into another wall, blurry vision and flying really do not mix. She’s confused for a second because she didn’t actually stop herself or change directions; and it felt like someone cold was cradling her. Not only that, but the entire place looked like it just got a coating of frost. Shakily jerking her head around, at first pissed off to see Phantom’s the one holding her. But being a bit too out of it and in pain to respond properly, makes it impossible to not feel grateful. Both for the cooling touch and being able to be taken out of here.

Phantom winces a bit and tries to bring his temperature up to a bit more humanly bearable levels without letting the fire pick back up, as Red mutters, “ish you, put...” he can tell she meant to say more but he has to push her head up and against his chest telekinetically, to keep it from falling backwards. Phantom had caught the tail end off of Red’s fight, her wound was pretty bad; even by his standards. And setting the entire warehouse on fire was extreme for any ghost. He knows her suit is really the only reason she’s not peppered in burns as well, and that it would help her with healing a bit but it was nothing compared to his insane healing factor. His cold breath making fog in the air as he talks, “Red, don’t be stupid. This is bad, do you have medical supplies at home? Don’t talk, just move your head a little”.

The fact that Red’s suit completely deactivates before he even gets a response, only makes him more worried especially as she shakes her head weakly. Alright, fuck it, his place it is. Arguably he could go to Sam’s, but there was no guarantee she was freshly stocked up. Plus, Phantom never went to her for the really really nasty stuff, he’d rather not terrify his friends. So he knew he was stocked up to, what most would probably say is, extreme excess.

Valerie has no clue why this Spook brought her here, to a hunters home. But she’ll admit, Danny’s room is comfy and the familiar setting reminded her of happier, and less painful, times. But something tells her Danny might be more involved with ghosts than she thought, enough so that Phantom clearly knows where things are in here. As she can tell he’s rested her down on some thick plastic, that definitely wasn’t just laying on the floor before.

She has to squint to make out that Phantoms phasing his bloodied hands through, what appears to be random to her, different spots in the floor and walls. Though she easily recognises the Hagedorn needles and impressive, and clearly expensive, heavy duty bandaging. She’s more confused than relieved as Phantom floats up asking, “again, just move your head a bit. Do you need any special treatment because of your nanobots? Like special stitching thread or clotting spray?”. Ok, her nanobots make her different sure, but not that different. Shaking her head at him slowly, which he smiles at a bit. It’s honestly a bit weird to see that he clearly looks worried, which is not something she’d expect from any ghost. But she’s guesses that if any ghostly menace was going to play at really caring for a human, especially a hunter, it would be this one. This one seemed determined to get people to like him even if he destroyed people’s lives. But this thought made her scrunch up her face a little, there was no one around to even see Phantom helping her, especially now. So why? He had nothing to gain, heck he’d be better off to have just left her or he could have easily destroyed her.

Instead, here he was, cutting up bandaging with mini ectobeams and sorting out stitching.

Phantom is really not pleased with how long it’s taking Valerie to stop bleeding, as he telekinetically changes out the cotton balls for the fifth time. Officially more worried she’ll bleed out, he checks her pulse; while she shivers a bit from the cold contact. Frowning as he phases out and sets up one of his normal human blood baggies. They were really meant for Sam or Tucker but he knew Sam and Valerie had the same type. Which he was currently rather thankful for.

Double checking the baggie before hooking it up to her, which he can tell she’s extremely confused by. He guesses it’s not exactly normal for a teen boy to have bags of blood hidden in his walls. Or for a ghost to know where they’re hidden, not to mention that she would be wondering how all this even got into the walls and floor in the first place. But Phantom’s more concerned about his parents coming home and checking on him, than confusing his frienemy. This was one of those times where he really hated his parents new, and strict, rule about being home directly after school so they could check in on him before he hung out with friends. He knew it was because they’d given up on having him home before midnight, and decided this was a better plan. But it was majorly an issue, right now more so.

Valerie is utterly confused as she stares at the tube hooked into her arm, why the hell would a ghost even know how to do this? Not too mention how’d he know her blood type and where’d it even come from? “Just don’t pass out ok? This is probably going to hurt something fierce”, snapping her eyes back onto Phantom as he finishes up easily and swiftly threading the needle. Yeah? No shit. This isn’t her first round with stitching, plus she was out of it enough that she was more aware of the tugging on her skin than the pain of it. The new pain just mixed with the old pain and she didn’t really have the energy to even yelp from it. And something told her that was actually concerning Phantom. Which again, is weird. There’s no one for him to keep up appearances for now, so why?

Glaring at the Spook a bit as he snaps his messy fingers in front of her eyes, “no. Keep those eyes open. I will smack you if I have to”. She’s not sure if she successfully sticks her tongue out at him or not. But both them freeze as Danny’s door pops open.

Catching Phantom mutter, “shit”, before she gets that weird tingle of invisibility. Squinting at him as she realises he just turned them and the stuff all invisible, judging by how Ms. Fenton doesn’t freak out but she does sound upset and disappointed? as she sighs, “not home, again. I’m starting to wonder if it’s even worth trying anymore”.

Phantom can’t help but feel insanely guilty as his mom shuts the door. Dropping invisibility only after he hears her go all the way down the steps. It’s a lot easier to focus on stitching when he’s not using a bunch of his powers at once, and he can’t let himself make her skin too cold. Ice was great for numbing but not so great if you flat-out gave the person frostbite. On himself, that wasn’t a concern and normally Valerie’s suit would protect her unless he dropped the temp to insane degrees. But this was an open, bare and burnt wound. Even if his ice was necessary here, he could easily do more harm than good.

Snapping his fingers at Valerie again and glad that she actually tries to bat away his hand this time. Means she’s feeling slightly better, even if she’s still borderline unconscious.

Clipping off the end of the stitching with a little ectobeam and placing the needle to the side. Phasing the blood off his hands and onto the plastic, before grabbing the bandaging. One majorly nice thing about being in ghost form and having a fine layer of ice right now was that it made him completely anti-bacterial. So he doesn’t have to worry about getting her wound infected or anything.

Telekinesis is coming in extremely handy today, as he uses it to sit Valerie up without jostling her. Though she clearly groans from the movement, mentally berating himself a bit of not giving her warning.

Valerie’s not sure if Phantom is trying to be a jerk, by yanking her up. Groggily spotting the bandaging at least tells her he had a reason to be moving her around. She wants to snap that she could have gotten up herself, but she knows that would be a lie and that Phantom would know it is. And lying to the guy who’s basically being her doctor, was an incredibly dumb idea. Especially since he, for some reason, seems to have medical training. She can tell the stitching is way smoother than any she’s ever done and as he wraps her up, she can tell it’s snug but not too tight, like he knew exactly how taut to pull and press it.

“Why don’t you tell me what the hell happened? Keep yourself occupied with bitching about some ghost”, Valerie’s not sure what game Phantoms playing but there really ain’t any good reason to not bitch about ghosts. “Some big mouth ass...damn teeth”, rolling her head towards him and making a chomping motion with her mouth, “too close”.

Wow, alright, no wonder she’s hurt. That prick was a nasty bastard, “sounds like Chomper. He’s dangerous, obviously. Prick bit off my hand when he first cropped up”. Phantom shifts a bit as he rests Valerie back down, and moves to change out the blood baggie. Talking as he’s setting it up, “aim for the mouth on him. He coughs and starts smoking if you land a shot inside his mouth. Pretty well downs him. But he doesn’t play around, he’s actually looking to kill. I bet he was chasing someone when you showed”. Valerie nods before glaring at the ceiling, “there was...a little girl...in the building. Pretty sure she...got out”. Frowning because “pretty sure” is not good enough. He catches Valerie jerk, surprised, as he duplicates and sends the duplicate back to the warehouse to check. And apparently he’s doing a damn good job of confusing Valerie today, “why?”. Sighing at her, “is it so hard to believe I care?”. Apparently yes, as she just looks more confused.

Back at the warehouse, Phantom clearly didn’t do a thorough enough job with his ice. Half the place is blazing again. Groaning, he decides to just leach out ice and frost over everything as he flies through the building for any people. Seriously hoping he does not find a corpse or burnt up kid. Only to promptly get shot in the face by an ecto-weapon. Shaking his head, “ow. What the?”, before sticking his head back in the room cautiously. Blinking as a little girl, Tracy pretty sure she started grade three this year, drops the gun and mouths sorry a bunch.

Waving off her worry, even if that did hurt, “are you ok? Well obviously not, but you’re not physically hurt are you?”. From what Phantom can see, her clothing is a bit charred and there’s ash in her hair, but otherwise she seems mostly just frazzled. Her running up and hugging him, hard, pretty well confirms she’s ok. Patting her hair, causing some of the ash to puff off, making both of them cough a little. “Hey it’s ok, let me just get this off of you”, that’s one thing about little kids, it always lifted their moods him using his powers on them. So it’s no surprise to him when she giggles as he phases the ash and bits of debris off/through her. Smirking playfully at her before phasing her out the building.

Phantom both likes and hates how used to him phasing through the hospital ceiling with some citizen in his arms, the hospital staff is. Most don’t even snap their heads up at him, but they do wave. While the receptionist glances at waves him over. “Name?”

“Tracy Brendal. Burning building no serious injury but likely major smoke inhalation. There’s some broken glass in her feet but no ghost specific injuries”, Phantom hands her off to one of the nurses as Tracy’s playing with his hair. Turning back to the receptionist, “Fire department is being rather lazy, they should have been there way sooner. They’re getting too used to me I think”. Waving at her and catching her smirk as he phases through the ceiling.

Turning his head to Valerie as his duplicate heads to give the fire department an earful, “well, you were wrong. But she’s fine, just some smoke”. Smirking a bit, “kids a decent shot with an ectogun”.

“So that’s why...you flinched. Dumbass”, Phantom nods with a smirk, though he really should get her onto something more comfortable than the floor. Letting her stay here is plain risky but taking her home is probably way too much movement. Even if he’s a damn smooth flier. Plus her father would be home by now and he’d be utterly pissed she’s hurt. And her getting into it with her dad over hunting wouldn’t exactly be helpful or healthy, right now. Sam and Tucker were basically out of the question. Even he couldn’t risk staying overnight with the Manson parents around. And taking her to Tucker would be beyond insanely suspicious.

And shit that’s right, Valerie doesn’t know the entire weirdo trio knows about her. She’d get paranoid about her secret, Hell, being here is probably going to make her paranoid as soon as she’s more fully aware and clear-headed.

Rubbing his neck a bit awkwardly, “you want on the bed or do you actually prefer floors?”.

Valerie’s not really sure why he’s even asking. Who the hell prefers the floor over a soft bed? “Soft”, she’s mentally gloating a bit at confusing the Spook. Even if he figures it out scary fast, as plastic floats over the bed. She’s not really sure why Phantom picks her up instead of moving her with his mind or however the fuck he does that shit. But him picking her up makes her notice the location again, with everything not so blurry she’s even more confused on why he brought her here of all places.

Groaning a bit in pain as Phantom sets her down, “the Fenton’s, why?”.

“The only place I knew for sure had what you needed. We both know hospitals are out of the option for you”, Valerie can’t say she’s surprised by that, Phantom knows full well about her nanobots. How the hell would a hospital even react to that? That doesn’t explain how he knew all this stuff was here though, or how he knew exactly where all of it was. Unless Danny told him, but why would he do that? Danny’s terrified of ghosts and there’s no way his hunter parents haven’t made it clear how dangerous ghosts are. Heck, they attack with extreme prejudice and they’re the most outspoken against Phantom. Danny would have to be insane to even be friendly with Phantom. At least she had a constant means of self-defence literally inside her.

Glaring at Phantom, who’s cleaning up in a manner that seems almost routine and utterly calm. His backs to her so she can’t read his face as she talks, “Phantom, Danny’s room. Why?”.

Phantom’s surprised it took this long, though Valerie’s been pretty out of it and clearly is rather exhausted. He’s kind of just hoping she’ll take a nap now that she’s fixed up and not critically low on blood. Her nanobots working overtime to fix her up faster, is probably tiring her more. He’s kind of always been curious what that must feel like, kind of the same way his friends would pester him about how his ectoplasm feels.

Turning to her and knowing full well she’ll be pissy and probably start moving around if he doesn’t actually give a real answer, “Danny’s not afraid of ghosts. It’s an act. The only way to keep his parents from pushing too hard to make him hunt with them. Instead, he helps me. Everything here is for me and helpful humans”.

Floating over and crossing his arms at her, “you and the Fenton’s are not the only humans running around dealing with ghosts. You three are just the only ones not in my corner”. Valerie’s gaping at him incredulously and he can’t really blame her. No one outside of his friends really knows Danny Fenton, half his behaviours in human form are an act nowadays. Plus they literally dated, and know she knows both of them were hiding something. Ironically the same sort of something, secret ghost-fighting/hunting.

Valerie’s not sure if she even believes this but she’s positive it’s true. There’s really no other explanation and she knew Danny had secrets. But for him to be flat out playing pretend and helping a ghost? That’s insane for sure. And not just any ghost but Phantom? What the hell would make Danny think Phantom was anything but a dangerous menace. Sure maybe Phantom didn’t screw over Danny’s life but still! He has to get earfuls of Phantom’s evilness from his parents so why? Glaring hard at Phantom and trying to sit up, glaring harder as he pushes her down and sighs, “you’re in no state to being doing that Red. If you want to play twenty-one questions save it for when you’re better”. Valerie doesn’t relent on her glaring, there’s no way sweet Danny would side with a dangerous ghost, muttering accusingly at him, “brainwashing”.

Phantom simply rolls his eyes which is downright annoying, “I don’t have that kind of power. I know you don’t like me and clearly, you don’t see how anyone could. But Danny does, he always did”. Valerie hates how sincere he looks but she doesn’t get to comment as Danny sticks his head in through the door.

Phantom had decided it was probably better just to interrupt her, and how better than to have his duplicate come in, in human form.

Fenton looks around as if taking in the room before looking Valerie up and down, “and you look like shit Val”. Turning to Phantom, “care to explain?”. Phantom points his finger at Valerie, no way was he going to openly “expose” Valerie to himself, since he’s certain she doesn’t know that Fenton knows.

Valerie apparently doesn’t care about her secret now though, could be the pain and tiredness or because she found out Fenton’s pro-Phantom in a major way, “ghost fight. You help him, why?”.

Fenton looks to Phantom in a show of making himself look displeased but shrugs, “is whoever at least caught? And I’m going to take a guess and say she’s already fixed up. In which case I should probably handle this, she’s a friend after all”.

Phantom gives Valerie a mildly cocky wave as he phases through the ceiling, while Fenton closes the door. “Well, I hope you’re not hurt too bad but I’m guessing you are, since you’re here. Phantom’s a good doc though, so I’m not too worried”, Fenton eyeballs her a bit as he sits on the side of the bed. While Valerie glares a bit, likely annoyed he hasn’t answered her question yet. Sighing, “he’s the good guy Val. I know you must not think so since pretty well everyone knows you don’t like him. I don’t know how much he told you but we’re close and yeah I help him. Always will, always have”.

Valerie can’t help but gape at him, he really is insane enough to help a ghost. And always? “You idiot. Ghosts aren’t good”, Valerie’s not sure why Danny finds that funny. Shaking his head at her, “you sound like my parents. With all their garbage science, bigotry and false theories. Funny thing, the reason they’re against Phantom so much more than other ghosts is because he disproves their theories. They can’t figure him out so they dislike and fear what they can’t understand”. Valerie’s pretty sure his parents are right and Danny’s just being stubborn. Heck, maybe this is his weird way of teenage rebellion.

“Ghosts are good and bad, no different than humans. And if doing what’s right makes me an idiot then so be it”. Valerie’s going to comment on this but Danny interrupts her, “Val, pretty sure you should be resting. Obviously you’re more than welcome to stay, personally I prefer the floor for healing up. But you do you. I’m not gonna ask why you don’t seem bothered by whatever pain you’re in, everyone’s got their secrets”. Valerie can’t help but feel thankful that Danny’s such a good person, clearly too good but still. As she watches him smirk and throw some blankets on the floor, “I’ll nab you some food in the morning, so don’t be an idiot and get some rest”.

End.