#and immediately he had another crisis when he saw how much dirt the was in the field

[timaeusterrored]

(A little of the Kerry and Vax wedding and some context on the Red Dirt quest)

“So Kerry.. what the fuck happened?”

Kerry turned to face his old friends in confusion, before his eyes immediately went back to his groom. V was talking to Judy, a light in his eyes he had been afraid was gone forever.

“The first time we met him, there wasn’t much.. love I guess. I just assumed this was fling.” Denny explained, Nancy nodding in agreement. Kerry forgot about that honestly. So much shit happened after that day he forgot he had told them V was his input at the time. Now that he thought about it, they saw him interacting with Johnny and not V.

He wasn’t quite sure how to explain that, or if V wanted to business told.

“Well.. I’ll be honest. He wasn’t my input at the time. He had broken into my house with a message.” Nancy sat up, concern crossing her face. Denny just shook her head like this wasn’t a surprise. Maybe Kerry should have been offended. But he knew this was the least weird person he’s ever slept with. He did also sleep with Johnny so the bar was really low.

“Why do I get the feeling that’s not the true story?” Nancy asked, and she was right. It wasn’t true and she was way too observant.

“Because it’s not. But you wouldn’t me believe if I told you. I barely believe the full story.” That had been a rough night.. but Kerry never expected Johnny would just plop his future husband into his lap. Maybe Johnny hadn’t expected this.

“I mean, it’s just funny is all. You seemed like you could barely look at him and now you can’t stop staring him.” That was true. Kerry hadn’t taken his eyes off of V for more than five seconds tonight. But really, could anyone blame him. Dancing and laughing with his friends. Enjoying life the way he should have been all along. He definitely took something during one of the few times Kerry wasn’t looking, and Kerry was surprisingly sober. He just.. didn’t want this night to blend in with others.

“Ker!” Nancy called teasingly, getting Kerry’s attention away from his groom once more. The look on his face nearly sent her flying. It was a look of genuine happiness. Something he hadn’t had in fucking decades. When she had first met V, she hadn’t been sure what to think of him. Then the interaction at the concert told her it hadn’t been real. Maybe a fan getting his rocks off and Kerry going through another crisis.

But as the young merc sat down next to Kerry, clearly a bit fucked. He looked at Kerry with genuine love in his eyes, like he was the only person in this room worth looking at. This V was different than the one they had met. Maybe because of stress, maybe Kerry had paid him, she didn’t know. He had been sick when they met, she knew that much. He had looked it, for a moment sounded like it. He had felt so familiar though.. she had shaken the feeling off.

Now he was bright. If not a bit shy to be this way in their presence. It was cute, the way he tucked into Kerry a bit, whispered something to him that had her friend grinning. A grin that said they’d be leaving early. Kerry downed the rest of the drink and stood, his merc following.

To her surprise, Kerry came over and kissed her cheek. Just like he used to. Denny tilted her head expectantly and Kerry kissed her too.

“Thank you, for coming and for everything.” He whispered to Nancy. She knew Kerry probably wouldn’t even be here if not for her in the beginning. “Love you, Ker.” Denny called.

“Love you girls too! See ya.” He took his new husband’s hand and dragged him through the crowd. The women smiled at each other. Typical Kerry.

[vaguelyhauntedcornfield]

I just played a barbarian janitor named larry who looks like a weird edit of Robert Pattinson as a janitor that came up when I googled ‘hot janitor’ and he rages when people make messes and has all his attacks reflavored as cleaning supplies and despite being planned with the dm in the 10 minutes before the one shot, he might be my favorite character ever

[noteguk]

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship 

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here 

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no. 

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles. 

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying. 

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower. 

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times. 

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener. 

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync. 

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling. 

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure. 

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell. 

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates. 

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt. 

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night. 

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?” 

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.” 

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...” 

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked. 

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.” 

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated. 

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.” 

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.” 

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!” 

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said. 

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa. 

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense. 

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.” 

“How’s that possible?” he asked. 

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you. 

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.  

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.” 

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” 

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years. 

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird. 

But you also kind of didn’t care. 

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?” 

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked. 

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down. 

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?” 

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in. 

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. 

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him. 

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point. 

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”  

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him. 

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.” 

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt. 

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind. 

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple. 

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations. 

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?” 

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on. 

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were. 

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.” 

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth. 

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations. 

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.” 

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue. 

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…” 

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them. 

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him,  meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer. 

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry. 

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression. 

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.” 

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.” 

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats. 

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?” 

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.” 

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked. 

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you. 

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. 

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to. 

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?” 

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try. 

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you. 

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?” 

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.” 

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?” 

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.” 

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…” 

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear. 

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.” 

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you. 

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips. 

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.” 

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered. 

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.” 

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch. 

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream.  “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.” 

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.” 

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.” 

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name. 

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.” 

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…” 

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever. 

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.” 

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“ 

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.” 

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.” 

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.” 

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.” 

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again. 

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you. 

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts.  “Hey, ___?” He called. 

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

[barry-j-blupjeans]

maybe 3 or 11 + blupjeans for the kissing prompts? :o

11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

(Kissing prompts here :D!)

this got,,, A LITTLE out of hand sjflsdfj. here is OVER 2k of blupjeans for ur reading pleasure (probably to be posted on ao3 later)

--

Barry’s got one arm covering Lup as he’s half leaning over her, and the other up in the air to create a shield around them (god, he was so glad that Lucretia had talked him into learning abjuration magic a few cycles ago). It wasn’t the strongest, but it held up as the mineshaft they were in caved in around them. By the time the ground stopped shaking, and the rocks stopped falling, the bubble he had created was completely covered from top to bottom. There wasn’t a shred of light anywhere.

“Fuck,” Lup said, which aptly described how Barry was feeling. “Quick thinking, Bar, good job.” 

She snapped her fingers and a few balls of light lit up the bubble, floating aimlessly around them.

He lowered his wand, focusing on the spell well enough for it to stay steady, and turned his attention to Lup. She wasn’t injured, besides some scrapes on her arms from when Barry had shoved her to the ground. He felt a little bad about that, but the tunnel was small and he didn’t want her to move out of range of the bubble.

Lup fished her Stone of Farspeech out of her robes as Barry gave her a tight smile in response. He sat up against the side of the bubble shield as she called back to the ship. Davenport was sending Taako, Magnus, and Merle to come to get them out (which Barry already knew would be a disaster, even if they worked well together). When she hung up, all that was left to do was... wait. There was a light on the top of her Stone to show it was being tracked, and they couldn’t do anything else to make it go faster.

“Sorry for pushing you,” Barry said. Lup shrugged and sat cross-legged across from him.

“No biggie,” she said. “It was either be pushed to the ground or get killed by a rock, so I don’t think I have the right to be mad about it right now. Or the want to, anyhow.”

Waiting was slow going. Barry knew Lup wasn’t a particularly patient person and could tell when she was starting to get antsy. Neither of them were good at sitting still, but Lup’s foot had been tapping for ten straight minutes before she started searching through her pack for things to do.

“Hey, Bar,” she asked, five minutes into that, “Wanna help?”

“Gods, yes,” Barry said, shuffling his way over to her side. “Give me something to do.”

Lup muttered something under her breath that Barry didn’t catch, and probably didn’t want to. She turned the whole bag over and pushed half of it towards him.

“Do... something with that,” she said and started working on her half.

Barry started to organize it because that was probably what Lup had meant. He sorted it by use first- things someone would need if they were going to a mission (waterskin, loose charcoal, which Barry didn’t want to begin questioning), makeup stuff (chapstick, face wipes, three different colors of nail polish, and one eyelash curler), and misc. (four individual playing cards, a note in Taako’s handwriting that just said “fuck you”, a photo of a baby elephant). Then he sorted by size.

When he looked back over to Lup, she had made a wobbly tower out of her half. Barry was startled into a laugh, which caused it all to fall over.

“Barold Bluejeans,” she said, turning on him. “You fucking monster.”

“S- sorry!” Barry gasped, leaning back against the bubble, not sounding sorry at all. “I thought- I thought we were both sorting!”

“I said “do something” not sort!” Lup said. “I cannot believe- oh, fuck, is that my charcoal, I was looking for that.”

Which just made Barry laugh harder. She scowled at him, in good nature, and snatched the charcoal from his piles. She eyed him as she started building her tower again, pausing only when he sniggered to send a light-hearted glare his way.

After a while, he finally got control of his laughter and watched her build a tower. She had two books she was using as the base, followed by a thinning stack of sticky notes, and a half-empty water bottle. After about three minutes, she finished the pile, which had been swaying precariously as she added things, and placed the charcoal on top. She leaned back on her hands and looked at it.

“Hey, Bar,” Lup said, not taking her eyes off the pile.

“Yeah?”

“I’m bored.” She tore her gaze away from it to look at him, lips turned into a cute little frown. “I wanna do somethin’ else.”

“Not a lotta options here, Lup,” Barry said. She frowned, tilting her head at him. His heart stuttered a little. “We can, uh. Talk?”

“About what?” Lup asked. “‘What’s your favorite color?’ I already know yours is denim blue. You’re predictable, babe. I don’t know what to ask that wouldn’t seem like this is a bad first date.”

Barry flushed a little.

“This would be a very bad first date,” Barry said and Lup laughed. She scooted up next to him, careful not to disturb her pile while she moved. After a second, she pressed her arm next to his and leaned onto his shoulder. Barry’s brain short-circuited, almost missing what she said next.

“We’d have to be on at least third date questions,” Lup said thoughtfully. “Like, uhh. What’s your social security number?”

“I don’t remember that!” Barry laughed and Lup buried her head into his shoulder, giggling. “I- I barely even knew it when we were at home, Lup, how do you expect me to remember it after forty-five years.”

“Joking, Barry,” she said, laughing a little still. “I’ll ask a better question, then. Uh. When you were a kid, what did you wanna be when you grew up?”

“Astronaut,” Barry said immediately, which sent Lup into another fit of giggles. She looked up at him, grinning.

"For real?" she asked and when he nodded, she whistled. "Dang, babe, you got your dream."

"I- I guess," Barry said. "It's not like- I mean, I gave up on that dream fairly quick back home. One, because it was pretty unrealistic until the Light came, and two, because it seemed... I don't know, unrealistic. I was a professor, Lup, I didn't- the mission was more of a... midlife crisis decision, if we're being honest."

Lup hummed, dropping her head back down to lean on his shoulder. Barry worried he went too far for a moment.

"I forget that human's live such short lives," Lup said quietly. The mood of the room (bubble) shifted when she said that. It took on a somber tone. "Me and Taako weren't adults until we were a hundred. By that age, you'd be all old and wrinkly."

"Hey," Barry said, nudging her. "I'm old and wrinkly now."

She snorted but shook her head.

"Guess Magnus's "live now, die later" attitude kinda makes sense when you think about it like that," Lup said. "Like, you age so fast. You just kinda have to do what you want when you want so you can actually get it in there, y'know."

"Not really," Barry said. "I mean, there's a lot of time to do things still, but I see where he's coming from. You don't wanna not do something and regret that you never did it."

Lup seemed to think on that for a second. Barry did, too. She was still pressed against his shoulder, close enough that her hair was tickling his neck. He looked away and sighed slightly. If he was being honest, he probably should take his own words to heart. Life, love, never lasts long enough and as soon as you get what you want, it's counting down the seconds until something takes it away. Circumstances, opportunities, death. Something always took it away.

They had an endless amount of time to get it right. But Barry didn't want to be the one to break her heart when they stopped the cycles and he started to age again.

"Barry," Lup said, quiet, but absolutely deafening in the silence of the bubble. "I, uh. I think we need to talk." She sat up, turning herself towards him completely. Barry's heart thundered in his chest.

"I know humans don't live long," she said carefully. "And we don't know when we're gonna get out of these cycles. But I... can't ignore things because of that. I can't just fucking- pretend that I'm not feeling things? Because that's not healthy and also, by the way, it fucking sucks. I'd rather-"

She broke herself off. Barry saw her hands dig into the dirt under them.

"This isn't the best place to say it," she said, looking away. She backed up a bit and knocked her pile over in the process. "Uh, my bad, I just-"

"I don't wanna pretend either," Barry blurted out, before he even thought about what he was saying. "Being trapped in a bubble under a collapsed mineshaft isn't the best place to talk about anything, Lup, but it's you and I don't wanna make you not want to say something. I, uh. I think I get what you're getting at, though."

He steeled himself, taking a deep breath in. Okay, he was doing this. He was doing this. He just had to, uh, collect himself first, and-

"I like you," and Lup beat him to the punch line. Barry blinked at her and she hurried along. "Like, in a romantic way, I mean. Not like- I like the others just fine, but I like you, Bar."

"Oh," Barry said. Lup chuckled nervously, not looking at him.

"Yeah," she said. "Um, like I said, not the best place to talk about it, but-"

"No!" Barry said. "No, Lup, I like you too! Fuck, I- I wasn't expecting you to, uhm- Lup, I like you so much, I didn't wanna make things weird."

"This whole goddamn situation is weird," Lup said, hitting the side of the bubble with her hand.

"No, like, us," Barry said. "Like as a friendship, I didn't wanna make it weird. I'm..." he sighed. "It's complicated for a lot of reasons, Lup, I'm human. I-"

"So it's a no?" Lup said awkwardly.

"No!" Barry said. "No, no, no, it's definitely a yes! I just don't want- I don't wanna fucking... die on you when the cycles stop, Lup. I don't want it to end and I don't want you to have to deal with that."

"That's not up to you," Lup said at once, sounding a tad bit annoyed. "If I wanna date you, that's my choice, and if you die, then it's my emotions I'm going to be dealing with. I don't want you to beef it, obviously, but- it's not up to you to figure out how I'll react then. I wanna do now with you and I wanna do that all the way up until we can't. It's fine if you don't- don't want that, but I-"

She was starting to tear up a bit and he panicked, scooting forward.

"Sorry," he said, because he didn't know what else to say. "I- I wasn't thinking about now, I was focusing on later. I- I don't want to see you upset because of something I've done, if I can help it. I got a little stuck in that.

"I desperately want this to work out," Barry said, holding out his hands. She wiped away a tear and clasped her hands in his. "There's no one I'd rather be with than you, Lup, I promise. But I wanna talk about what all it'll mean, first, if that's alright with you. I wanna make this work."

"Yeah," Lup said thickly. "Of course."

She hesitated for a second, and then wrapped him in a hug. His heart was beating fast as he hugged back, burying his face into her neck. After a moment, she drew back a little, pressing her forehead against his.

"Can I kiss you before we talk, or do you wanna wait 'til after?" she asked. The air momentarily left Barry's lungs. He took a deep, needed, breath in and nodded. When he realized that the nod answered nothing, he said,

"Now's good, if you, uh, if you want."

"Now," Lup said decisively, leaning in.

If you asked Barry, the day could be divided up into two parts: before he kissed Lup, and after. Maybe that was stupid, because they were buried under a pile of dirt and rocks right now, but... Her lips against his were fire and ash and everything wonderful and powerful. The touch was soft, because they were both uncertain, and Barry drew back just far enough to say,

"I'm sorry, are you sure-"

Before she was pressing her lips back up against his, stronger, with more intent. Barry's heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest as she tugged him closer with the arms she had around his neck.

And then he felt like his heart did actually explode when something clanged against the side of the bubble. Barry startled back, hitting the opposite end of the barrier, and looking towards where the sound had come from. Lup scooted back towards him, raising her wand towards it. It hit again and Barry recognized the blade of a shovel, scooping away the dirt.

In a matter of seconds, there was a sizable amount gone and there was Magnus, who grinned upon seeing them. He saw Taako standing against the wall a little further back and Merle on the ground, talking to him.

Lup swore. Barry saw that the tips of her ears were pink when she shoved her want back into her holster.

"We'll get back to this later," she promised. "The kissing and the convo, I promise. Help me put my shit back in my bag."

"Yeah," Barry said, his whole face flushed. "I can do that."

[misc-hamefura-etc]

WN Bonus story - Made by everyone

One of the bonus stories from the WN that wasn’t included in the LNs (yet). This was mostly machine translated. If someone has a better TL let me know and I’ll take this down. 

Otherwise it’s another cute story of Bakarina and friends! XD 

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

Made by everyone

My name is Catarina Klaes, 10 years old.

The only daughter of the Duke's family, the fiancée of the third prince of this country ... and the villainous daughter of the maiden game "FORTUNE LOVER" set in this world.

One day when I was eight years old, I remembered the memory of my previous life when I hit my head, and realized that I was reincarnated as a villain daughter who has only a ruin flag in the world of otome games! 

So, by the time I was fifteen years old when the game started, I was trying to avoid the ruin flag, but ... I've come here and a big crisis has come!

It was this morning.

As usual, I asked Anne to peel off the blankets and wake me up, and the weather was nice, so I was eager to go to the garden dashingly, saying, "Now, let's work hard on the fields."

It was a ruthlessly devastated field.

The crops that were growing are full of holes, and the ones that will fall on the soil and will bear fruit are similar. In addition, there are sticky white things all over the place. 

It's been a few years since I started to make a field in the garden of the Klaes family, and it's a garden of an aristocratic mansion. But ...

A foreign enemy has appeared here.

The garden was surrounded by fences and so that wild animals wouldn't come in easily ... but they were coming from the sky.

The appearance of several birds singing cutely with chips was adorable in the garden with a feeling of "pretty".

Recently, I felt that the number of visitors I saw at home has increased since when i first regained my memories.

However, no way they would ruin the fields I made with great care like this ...

"Damn ~, those sparrows!"

I cursed.

When I approach, it escapes temporarily, but when I leave, it returns to the field and finally pecks the fruit.

Quite a few visitors? No, it's done by the number of birds, so it seems that the precious vegetables will all be eaten.

In addition, their poop is scattered everywhere, so it's sticky with white poop all over the place.

This is bad, I have to take some measures!

Chair Catalina Klaes. 

Congressman Catalina Klaes. 

Secretary Catalina Klaes.

Now, let's break through the current situation and open a strategy meeting to avoid the crisis in the fields.

 "Well, everyone, please give us your opinion to protect the important fields."

"Yes"

"……Can I have a minute? 』\

"Yes, please Catarina Klaes"

"I understand that the fields have been devastated and I'm shocked, but do I need to bother to hold a strategy meeting for this project? 』\

"Well, what are you talking about! It's a critical situation because our important field has been devastated! This is a meeting project! 』\

"... But the fields have nothing to do with our doom flag ..."

"Well, I've been enjoying it as a hobby since I knew that it wouldn't be form of communication with the origin of my magic, but ... I mean, now I've set the doom flag aside and it's a field! 』\

"... No, it would be useless if you left it. The doom flag. It depends on Catalina's life. "

"Well, it's okay, because the countermeasures have been put in place ... Well, the snake toys are getting better, and the dirt bump isn't like it's getting higher.  』\

"The quality of snake toys has certainly improved, but I don't think the soil bump has improved at all since the first year ..."

"No, there are times when it feels a little higher, even though it's a few millimeters."

"... It's probably because of that. I feel that 15 cm is the limit. "

"Oh, we're doing a lot about the Doom flag countermeasures, and for the time being, we've gathered in this way, so let's talk about the field countermeasures now."

"Yes"

"Well, that's right."

"So, do you have any good ideas? 』\

"Yes. You should avoid birds in the field. "

"For example, avoid birds? 』\

"Well, uh, put a plastic bottles on the fence? 』\

"Isn't that cat counter measures? 』\

"That's right. Then, the grandmother of the previous life didn't say that you should smell the dog. "

"I think it was a measure against nyctereutees."

(TL Note: sorry i have no idea what shes trying to prevent here) 

"Then, what to do to avoid birds? 』\

"... a scarecrow?"

"That's it. Scarecrow! Grandma had a scarecrow in the field! 』\

"Good nice. If you put up a scarecrow, it would seem like there are people and the birds won't come near. "

"Okay, let's make a scarecrow right away! 』\

"Yes!"

 In this way, I decided to start making scarecrows ...

"In the first place, how should I make it, can I do it if I have a tree?"

When I was thinking about how to make it, my brother Keith said

"What's wrong big sister?"

He kindly asked me, so I talked about the fact that the field was in danger due to sparrows and I was thinking of making a scarecrow as a countermeasure.

"... Scarecrow to avoid birds ... It's amazing what my big sister thinks. I've heard of it, but I haven't seen it properly, so why don't you ask the gardener or someone who seems to know more?"

"I see!"

Let’s just ask the gardener Tom Ji-chan.

I immediately asked Tom Ji-chan how to make a scarecrow.

 Tom Ji-chan, who knows a lot, knew how to make a scarecrow and told me how to make.

I had gathered the necessary materials as taught. 

Then, with Keith helping me, "Now, let's start making scarecrows!” And started preparing in the garden,

"Catarina, what on earth are you trying to do this time?"

My fiancé Geordo, the third prince of the country, popped up and asked with a smile.

(Geordo comes into the mansion with a free pass, so he always comes suddenly)

"Oh, Geordo, I'm going to make a scarecrow from now on."

"What is a scarecrow?"

Oh, the prince doesn't know about Scarecrows, well, he's the prince.

"Scarecrow is a doll in the shape of a person in a rural field."

"Oh, I think I've seen it from a distance, but why make such a thing?"

"That's right ----"

I enthusiastically talked about the crisis in the fields caused by sparrows, so I decided to make a scarecrow! After he got over his shock, he lowered his head as his shoulder trembled. (this is a common Geordo habit).

"If so, let's help me together." he said.

Geordo is a super high-spec person who can even work in the fields smartly, so I'm grateful for his help.

I asked Geordo for cooperation, saying "please".

This time, Geordo's twin brother Alan and his fiancé Mary also came to visit.

When I explained to them that we were going to make a scarecrow,

Alain burst with laughter, "No, you're just in the field, but I'm wondering what it's like to make a bird ward."

Mary said "Please let me cooperate for Catalina's precious field."

 However, if the number of people increased to this point, it would be better to make several Scarecrows rather than making one Scarecrow together, so it was decided to divide the team.

"I'll make it with Catalina, because I'm her fiancé."

"My big sister originally intended to make it with me."

When Geordo and Keith started say those things,

  "Katarina-sama, I'm here to play."

"Apologies for the intrusion"

Sophia and Nicole, the Ascart siblings also came --- the number of Scarecrow-making members increased to seven in a blink of an eye, so I decided to make three.

 At Nicole's suggestion, "Because it's a hassle to divide up, let's draw lots," the lots divided us into three teams.

 "Now, let's do our best"

"Yes, Catalina, let's make a nice scarecrow."

"I like cute things"

Me, Mary, Sophia's girl team.

  "I mean, what is Scarecrow? Nicole, do you understand?"

"Oh, I've seen it before when I went to visit a rural village."

Alan, Nicole's team.

  "... Well, why do I have to work with you?"

"Geordo -sama, I will return the line exactly as it is."

Geordo , Keith's team.

  In this way, everyone made a scarecrow for each.

Everyone helped me with the fields, but it was also fun to do different work together.

And three scarecrows were completed.

The three scarecrows in the garden, the materials themselves should not have changed so much, but each one has its own individuality.

Scarecrow made by our girl’s team is like a cute girl with long hair and fluffy clothes in response to Sophia's suggestion that "I like cute things anyway".

Nicole and Alan team are said to have faithfully reproduced what Nicole had seen before ... It seems that it had a very good male style ... The result was a macho male style scarecrow. ..

And the team of Geordo and Keith ... they created a very realistic human-like scarecrow.

It was a scarecrow like a work of art that brought together the power of Geordo, who can do anything, and Keith, who is dexterous.

However, the impression of everyone who saw such a scarecrow was: 

 "It looks like it's starting to move."

"It's too real and scary"

"Why did you make it so real?"

"..."

 It was not good enough.

For that reason,

 "I told to make a human shape, so I just did what I was told."

"... I haven't seen Scarecrow. I don't know what it is."

 Geordo looked a little sick, and Keith said that he was a little embarrassed, but when I saw the Scarecrows, I was impressed. They could definitely deceive the sparrows!

"If it looks like a human, you can definitely deceive a sparrow! Thank you for the wonderful scarecrow."

When I said that and thanked them, they looked down a little in the same way.

 "... No. There is nothing like this."

"... Yeah. That's right."

 They answered.

 When I looked closely at the two people who looked strange, their faces were blushing.

 Oh, no!

It wasn't that hot yet, but everyone had to work outdoors for quite a long time, so they got hot flashes!

The two of them made a particularly elaborate work of art.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice it. It was hot. Let's go indoors and rehydrate immediately!"

I'm sorry that I'm mentally older than everyone else, but I'm not sure.

I hurriedly took everyone indoors and served tea.

The tea after work was exceptionally delicious, and we all made scarecrows, so we talked about that.

Geordo and Keith were also glad that when they had tea indoors, their hot flashes seemed to have calmed down and their complexion had returned.

 And three scarecrows were placed around the field of the Klaes family.

Girls, Macho men, and real humans.

Occasionally, the servant I saw was mistaken for a person and made a surprised voice, but thanks to him, the sparrow seemed to be able to deceive him well and did not come near, so he was able to escape from the crisis in the field.

[brightest-ideas]

(Continuation of this fanfic, again pretend it was posted yesterday lmao. Trigger warning for abuse and misgendering)

Jack had been waiting on the porch for roughly two hours now. During the first hour, his eyes had been firmly focused on the road, straining to see against the dark night if the next passing car was his father's, hoping that the next one would slow down and turn into their driveway. That enthusiasm slowly died down as time passed. Now, the middle Bright brother had been leaning against the railing for some time, looking down on the ground below him with his head resting on his hand, the light from his house only dimly illuminating the outside, he could barely spot the dark asphalt road just up ahead. Still, every time he heard the distant roar of the engine and the tires against the road, his head would perk up and he would look over, only to get disappointed once more as the car sped right past him.

He never got why Mikell liked dark, cold evenings so much. The crickets chirping were more irritating than anything, and you could only stare at the same starry sky so much before it became repetitive and boring, not to mention the annoying bugs trying to bite him. Jack much rather preferred staying inside, where it was warm and pleasant, with the yellow light illuminating everything perfectly, no scary dark corners or shadows to be found anywhere. He only ever liked staying on the porch if it were with his brothers.

The boy had long since lost sense of time and was about to head back home, when he heard yet another car, this time slowing down and pulling over into their dirt driveway. Jack's face lit up with the biggest grin and he practically jumped off the porch stairs as he saw his older brother come out of the car.

"Mikell!" He raced over, practically crashing into his brother and almost sending them both flying to the ground, thankfully for them both the older boy managed to catch himself on his crutches before he lost his balance.

Mikell wheezed as his brother made an impact with his chest and hugged him tightly, thankfully not too hard as to not hurt him...much. He visibly winced, but his expression softened as he looked down at the teen who had by now buried his face tightly against his older brother's chest.

"Ow, hey, asshole-" He patted Jack's shoulder. "Mind my ribs."

"Oh-" Jack pulled away slightly, his face flushing in embarrassment as he realised his mistake. "Sorry."

"Jennifer," Before Mikell could reply, their father's harsh tone had gotten both of their attention, Adam walking around the car towards them. "I thought I told you to be in bed before we came back."

"But, I- I wanted to see Mikell." Jack stammered out.

"And for fuck's sake, take that ridiculous hat off your head."

Before Adam could grab the cowboy hat, Mikell had already placed his hand on top of it, holding it firmly on his sibling's head as he met their father's gaze.

"I think it looks good on her."

Adam scoffed and turned back to his car, locking it. "Whatever. Just take the brat to her bed."

"Sure thing, your majesty." The eldest mocked before quickly hopping away on his crutches before their father could make a scene, Jack very quickly following him, leaving their parents to talk near the car alone.

As they neared the stairs, the younger boy started to pull the hat off of his head, only to have it firmly put back into place by his brother.

"You can keep it." Mikell pulled his hand away, grinning. "It suits you."

"It's a bit big for me, don't you think?"

"You'll grow into it." He carefully started to hop up the stairs.

"Or you just have a huge bubblehead."

Mikell laughed out as he stopped at the very top of the stairs, watching his brother climb up after him. "If you think some broken bones are going to keep me from drop-kicking a child down the stairs, you're wrong."

"I think you'd just fall over because of that massive head of yours if you tried."

"Why you-!"

Before he could grab him, Jack had already dived for the door, getting away from his brother as fast as possible.

"I think you'd be surprised how fast I can go on these crutches if you keep testing me, pipsqueak."

"Not fast enough, old man!" Jack stuck his tongue out at him and quickly disappeared into their house.

"Old?!" Mikell huffed, limping after him, squinting a bit as the warm yellow light hit his eyes. "I'm only twenty-two." He turned briefly to close the door behind him. He leaned against the wall, balancing mostly on his crutches as he managed to kick his shoe off.. "If you keep calling me old, you're setting yourself up for one hell of a life crisis in a few years."

He stood back up and hopped ahead towards his brother, but before Jack could even come up with a comeback, they were quickly cut off by a loud pair of footsteps coming towards them from the living room.

"Mikey!"

Mikell yelped as he had almost lost balance once more as he felt his youngest sibling crash into him, thankfully on the side of his healthy leg, and grip tightly onto his waist. He could only briefly look down at the small girl who had buried her face in his stomach before he remembered something, quickly bringing one of his crutches up, stopping TJ in his tracks as the boy almost rammed into the tip of it. A sense of dread creeped onto the eldest's expression.

"Don't."

TJ's face fell, though he stepped away, he knew more than enough what would happen if he made accidental skin contact with the man. "Sorry…"

Mikell put his crutch down with a soft tap as it hit the wooden floor, looking at his brother for a moment. He missed TJ a lot and he was sure the boy missed him too. He laid one hand on Claire's back, still looking at TJ, before he let out a long sigh. "Alright…but be very careful."

The youngest of the brothers lit up instantly, practically jumping over in excitement. Careful as to not touch Mikell's skin, the youngest boy wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled his face against his chest, with a bright smile on his face.

Mikell tried to relax into the hug, leaning back on his crutches and lifting his chin up, trying to make sure that TJ would not touch him. He let out a loud exhale, letting the tension leave his body as he closed his eyes, smiling just slightly. It felt so good to be back home, with his family. He missed the warm light and chatter, he missed their hugs and talking to them, he missed singing Claire to sleep, telling TJ stories and bickering with Jack. He missed it all, even the little annoyances.

"I missed you all too." His tone was soft and soothing, he gently ruffled Claire's hair and even hesitantly rubbed TJ's back as the two pulled away eventually. He slowly readjusted himself, pulling his crutches closer to his body so he could properly stand on them again. He then looked at the teen leaning against the wall and grinned. "Except for you, Jack, you're a nuisance."

"Hey!"

Mikell chuckled and gestured for his youngest siblings with one of his crutches, waving it towards upstairs. "Now come on, it's late and you two should have been in bed a long time ago."

TJ looked at his sister, walking ahead of her with a slight bounce to his step. "Hey Claire, wanna race me to your bedroom?"

"Yeah, yeah!" She giggled happily and ran ahead as fast as her little legs could carry her, her brother quickly gaining on her but sliding on the wooden floor just near the stairs, grabbing the railing to not fall on his face.

"Try not to hurt yourself, alright?" Mikell called out after them, a slight worry in his tone, but it's not like they were going to listen to him anyway. He limped along past Jack and the living room, heading towards the stairs as well.

Jack watched as his two younger siblings climbed up the stairs like a pair of rabid animals then glanced at his older brother with that usual bastard grin of his. "You need help going up the stairs, grandpa?"

Without a word, Mikell brought his crutch to his brother's shin, making him yelp loudly. He fell to his knees, gripping where his brother has hit him.

"Fuck!" He hissed, looking up at his brother who just snickered at his misery.

"That's what you get, I warned you already." There was a hint of amusement in Mikell's tone as he circled around the teen and continued on his way.

"You think you're gonna win this fight, mister cracked-ribs?" The boy quickly jumped up to his feet and raced ahead of Mikell, spinning around to face his brother. He immediately paused when he saw his expression visibly fall, amusement being quickly replaced with worry.

"Jack, your eye…"

Ah. Fuck. He almost forgot. "Oh, it's-" He pulled the cowboy hat over his face in an attempt to hide the mark. "It's nothing. I just fell."

But Mikell wasn't that easily fooled. He reached over and gently stroked his brother's cheek with his thumb, making him wince in pain. "He hit you, didn't he?"

Jack frowned, lowering his head, though his eyes still focused on his older brother. "Please don't get angry at him."

"He hit you." Mikell hissed through gritted teeth, feeling his blood boil.

"You're hurt." Jack had already grabbed Mikell's arm, fearing he was already planning to storm out the front door and scream at their father. And he wasn't exactly wrong. "Please, don't do anything stupid, he'll hurt you."

"Jack-"

"Mikell, please." He pulled himself closer, wrapping his arms around the older man's torso. "Please. You won't win this argument, he's just going to hurt you. Please just let it go…"

"I…" Mikell sighed heavily, letting his frustration leave his body with the big exhale and his shoulders falling, propping his chin against the top of Jack's head. "...Fine. But the second I'm healthy again, that bastard better watch his back."

"Thank you."

"...Okay, well, TJ and Claire are waiting for us. Come on."

[conretewings]

-A SMALL OBSTACLE-

**ATTENTION. THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD. I edited some things and added an epilogue. Please enjoy and reblog if you want**

(I'd like to dedicate this story to @mistwolf4, who's kindness, support, and discussions with me on it helped make it possible.)

When Salem had something to accomplish, she'd usually pick whoever's particular skills were most closely aligned to the task; when technological expertise or sly infiltration was in order, she called upon Watts. When wise diplomacy or intimidation, real or implied, was needed, she'd send Hazel. And when the seeds of chaos needed to be sown or a target taken care of, Tyrian was all too happy to serve.

Bearing this in mind, it wasn't often that all three men in the Grimm queen's inner circle were sent on a mission together; in fact this was only time in recent memory. All of their abilities, she had said, would be crucial. They had no idea about the small yet critical obstacle that lie ahead in their path...

Things started out just fine when they left Evernight in a 'borrowed' Mistral airship. They made it to the first rendezvous point, took care of that aspect of the mission-but when they returned to the vessel found themselves facing an unexpected issue.

Watts banged one fist on the control console after failing for nearly the seventh time to get the ship started, "What the hell is wrong with this heap of garbage?!"

Tyrian poked his head up from an access hatch in the floor, holding a wrench, "I tightened the bolts you pointed out...nothing?"

"Clearly not," the doctor replied with an eyeroll Tyrian didn't see, then leaned his head out the open window, "Is the power supply properly connected Hazel?"

The tall man nodded, closing a panel on the ship's side, "Everything looks fine."

Watts sighed, turning and going to the same access hatch Tyrian had vacated and was now crouching beside. Turning a couple of his rings, he swept a hand out, creating small hard-light platforms in front of his feet, using them as steps as he descended into the small main mechanical control room.

He began to fidget with several controls, muttering and cursing to himself as Hazel, having re-entered, and Tyrian stood nearby, unsure of how and if they could do anything. The scorpion Faunus caught Hazel's eye and gave a shrug before crawling onto the co-pilot's chair, and the taller man sighed, crossing his thick arms and leaning against the wall.

He knew if they couldn't get the thing started soon they'd be out of luck. Thus, ever the pragmatic one, he moved to kneel beside the hatch and said, "Arthur, if we can't get it going, we'll have to be stuck here for the night, or try and secure another mode of transportation. I suggest we head back into town and weigh our options."

A loud rattling and clang was heard from the dimly lit room below, coupled with Watts poking his head into view, "Absolutely not," he huffed, tossing a scorched, blackened piece of metal and wire onto the floor then ascending on more of his hard-light steps, brushing his clothes off, "I've located the issue. This," he picked the piece up, "Is one of the spark plugs for the main engine. We'll just grab a spare from the toolkit, install it and be on our way. Tyrian could you grab me the toolkit? It's the same one you grabbed the wrench from."

"There was nothing like that in there that I saw." Tyrian answered, cocking his head, long braid flopping over his shoulder.

Watts rolled his eyes again, striding to and flipping open a large steel box, "Rubbish. There has to be. There's always at...at least...oh for the brothers sake!"

He stood, pinching the bridge of his nose, "There isn't one."

"I told you, dear Arthur." Tyrian said with a sing-song tone, batting his eyes and earning himself a sideways, sour glance.

Hazel pushed himself to his feet, "We have two choices. One is to let her Grace know. The other is to head back into town to purchase the part we need. If we're quick option two is our best bet."

"No, no, you're right as usual my exceptionally tall fellow," Watts relented, giving his jacket another dusting for good measure and walking to the exit ramp, "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"I'm coming too," said Hazel as he too moved toward the door, "I'll grab a few other things in case we run into something like this again."

Tyrian leapt from the chair and swept up behind them, "Well, don't leave me out of the party! It's no fun being here all by myself!"

Watts waved a hand dismissively, "Fine fine! Let's just hurry and get this done."

An hour later, they had finally located a shop that carried the parts they needed. Watts was inside handling the purchase, Tyrian had joined him, and once Hazel had grabbed what he wanted he stepped outside to wait. The man leaned against the side of the store, slightly down the alley between it and the neighboring building minding his own business and trying to remain as inconspicuous as was feasible. It had clouded over in their walk here, and now the sky above was dark and heavy with the threat of rain.

As he stood, keeping an eye out for possible trouble as he always did, he suddenly felt a tugging at his pant leg and looked down to see...a small child gazing intently up at him. She looked to be about five years old, with dirt-streaked brown hair and an equally filthy dress. One hand clutched a stuffed toy with the other firmly knotted in the fabric of his pants, and she stared up at him fearlessly with bright blue eyes.

He resolved to ignore her, as she was likely simply seeking attention or to play a joke on him, neither of which he felt like dealing with. Thus he looked away again, crossing his arms and hoping she'd get bored and leave. After a minute or so of continued efforts, the tugging became more insistent and she spoke up, "'Scuse me mister!"

He sighed, relenting and making eye contact, "Yes?"

"Where's my mama?" she asked plaintively.

Hazel was momentarily taken aback. Of all the people around she had, for some reason, chosen him. Was she truly lost, or did she simply wander off and her mother was right nearby, frantically searching for her? No doubt it was the latter, and not having time to deal with lost waifs, yet unable to force himself to turn a blind eye-there were monsters other than Grimm about-he resolved to take care of this matter quickly. He carefully knelt, still towering above her but slightly less intimidating and asked, "When and where did you see her last?"

The child pursed her lips, looking away for a moment, "Umm...three days ago?"

Hazel felt his heart sink; three days meant it was the former situation after all.

Fishing in her pocket, the girl held out a piece of paper, "She gave me this but I can't read it..."

Taking it, Hazel unfolded it and quickly realized he was now entangled in a much darker, more complex situation. The note read, 'I can't take care of her anymore. Her aunt lives in Fellstone at 36 Walnut St. take her there.'

His brows knitted and he exhaled so lowly in his throat it was almost a growl. There had to be a police station nearby he could drop her off at, though he wondered why the child hadn't been taken there in the first place. Standing again, he stuffed the paper in a pocket and motioned for her to follow.

"Come on. I'll take you to someone who can help."

She gave a tiny gasp of delight, grinning ear-to-ear and reaching her hand up toward him. He paused, realizing she was trying to hold his as they walked, but pretended he didn't notice and kept on. They made their way through the muddy streets, Hazel taking frequent downward glances to make certain she was still there. His Scroll beeped, and taking a look saw the message from Watts: 'Where are you??' He quickly tapped out a reply; 'Had to take care of something be right back'

In only a few minutes they had reached a police outpost and though he was naturally wary of calling attention to himself, especially with law enforcement, he rapped his calloused knuckles on the door. It immediately flew open, a portly man doing a double-take at the figure in front of him.

"Oh-hello sir. What's the trouble?"

Hazel gestured to the small girl beside him, handing the officer the paper she'd had, "This child approached me...she was, apparently, abandoned by her mother. The note lists a relative."

The officer took the paper, looked from it to the girl, who waved at him, then shrugged, "Look, I know you mean well, but here's the thing; I know this kid. Her mom is a good-for-nothing drunk and is always in some sort of crisis. This isn't the first time she's ditched her and vanished. She'll probably be back soon. There's nothing we can do."

Hazel cocked an eyebrow, "I'm sorry?"

Again the officer shrugged, then coughed and handed the paper back, "I said there's nothing we can do. You can leave her here, or at the pub on Eighth, or Cherry and Pilwin. Those are her favorite haunts. Bye."

With that he shut the door practically in Hazel's face. His fists clenched, part of him wanting to punch a hole right through it. He wasn't naïve; the lines between good and evil in the world were, quite often, more blurry than most cared to believe or admit, however he still found himself entertaining the notion that at least some of those that were supposed to be in a position of protecting others would do just that.

He looked down at the child, whose wide eyes were wavering and uncertain, having clearly comprehended the adult's discussion. So she was truly on her own, with no one willing to lend a hand...except him. Despite his better judgement, in a flash of something deep and long-forgotten he sighed again and extended his hand to her, "If you still wish, I'll help you."

Her expression brightened, just a little, and she reached up, her tiny hand managing to wrap around several of his fingers.

"What's your name?" he asked as they made their way back toward the shop where his companions were, likely, impatiently awaiting his return.

"I'm Greta!" she proudly declared, then held up her toy, "And this is Stinky! What's yours?"

He inhaled sharply, stopping short. It wasn't her name, but it was close enough to send an aching stab through his chest. Drawing a deep breath to steady himself again, pushing the emotions and memories back into the corners of his mind where they usually were, he glanced at her and nodded.

"I'm Hazel. I'm going to take you to your family, Greta. I promise."

Watts paced briskly, hands tightly clasped behind his back and mouth pressed to a thin line. Tyrian stood much more casually, leaning against a tree at the edge of town where they'd decided to meet. His tail waved lazily and he watched the doctor's increasingly agitated state with amusement.

"Oh Watts you'll wear a rut in the ground at this pace," he said with a chuckle and stretched, "I'm certain our compatriot will be here any minute."

"Where IS that oaf?! This was HIS idea and now he's run off to who-knows-where!" he gestured to the sky with it's dark, roiling clouds, "It's going to downpour any moment and he can't even-finally!"

As he was ranting Hazel turned the corner of a nearby building and approached them. Watts raised his hands palms up in a sarcastic gesture, "Ah, at last, he returns. Now, let's get out of here. We-"

He froze mid-sentence, as now Greta peered out from behind Hazel's coat and gaped curiously at him and Tyrian. The scorpion Faunus perked up instantly, making a soft 'oooh' sound. Hazel moved his hand to indicate to her to stay back and at this Watts drew a sharp, deep breath, drawing himself up.

"Hazel. What. Is that?"

The large man glanced at Greta, then back to Watts. He had overheard how the doctor had referred to him and chose his response accordingly, "I believe this is what most would call a child."

"You know PERFECTLY well what I mean!" Watts barked, jabbing a finger in his direction, "Why is she with you?"

Hazel sighed, full well knowing this was going to be inordinately difficult no matter what, "She approached me seeking help, and I discovered her mother has abandoned her. She was kind enough at least to include a note listing a nearby relative. I'm taking her to them."

Watts rubbed his temples, his face reddened with frustration, "You can't possibly be serious..."

Tyrian snorted, "I don't recall Her Grace saying anything about babysitting stray children. Did you forget we have a job to accomplish?"

"Thank you dear Tyrian!" Watts quickly replied, then addressing Hazel pointed at Greta, "This is not your responsibility or problem. Put it back where you found it, and be quick we need to make headway before it rains or gets too dark."

Hazel said nothing for a moment. He knew this was exactly the response he would get, and had prepared for it.

"Fellstone, where her aunt lives, is right on our way. With the winds how they are, even with these two detours, we'll get to our next stop on time or ahead of schedule. And speaking of responsibility, if anything should go wrong I will shoulder it myself."

His teammates stared in defeated exasperation; they knew all too well that once he'd set his mind to something, there was no stopping him. Watts threw his hands in the air, grumbling and cursing and spun on his heel as he began the trek back to their ship. Hazel mumbled to Greta to stay close as he set off as well. The small girl clutched his coattails, having to trot to keep up. Tyrian slunk off the tree and took up the rear of the group, eyeing Greta now with curiosity...or how a snake does a mouse. He crept up closer, and finally the girl noticed. Her eyes widened and she tilted her head, watching his tail sway hypnotically.

"Do you like it?" he said in a sweetly venomous voice, "I certainly do...though many others don't..."

Hazel jerked his head to glower at the Faunus, "Leave her alone."

"Oh, but she's just curious! All I'm doing is providing some entertainment for her for the walk! Surely-"

"Leave. Her. Alone." he repeated, this time in a low threatening growl.

Chuckling, Tyrian raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender and picked up the pace until he reached Watts, his tail gently resting on the doctor's back. He grinned and winked over his shoulder, and Greta held Hazel's coat a little tighter.

Slowly at first, then swiftly picking up into a steady rhythm, the rain finally came only minutes later. With a disgruntled shout of 'I told you' Watts unfurled his umbrella and took off towards the ship, which was now in sight, although still a ways off. Tyrian tried to shelter himself as much as possible with him, mockingly calling behind them to hurry.

Hazel picked up his pace; he had never minded the rain, but they did need to move quickly. Greta, still clinging to his coat, now struggled even more to keep up. She panted and moved her small legs as fast as she could, but between his naturally long strides and the wet ground she just couldn't-and tripped, tumbling to her knees. She knelt where she'd fallen, clutching her toy and started to cry. Hazel stopped a couple steps ahead and sighed.

"Come on, you need to get up."

"I caaaaan't!" she sniffled, "You're too fast and I'm getting tired!"

"You have to try."

"I can't!!" she repeated, then curled in on herself miserably.

He exhaled wearily. He had chosen to take charge of this situation, and now he needed to find ways to navigate it. They had to move, but she was clearly exhausted especially after everything she'd no doubt been through. An idea came to him...

"Greta."

She looked up at him from the muddy ground, her blue eyes clearly showing her weariness yet still holding that fearless fire. He knew she had a fighter's spirit, she must if she was able to survive on her own. He decided to nurture that, while also clearing up this obstacle.

"Sometimes, you'll be tired and hurting and want to give up. You can't. You have to try to push yourself just a little more to reach your goal. If you get up and walk to me I will carry you the rest of the way."

She regarded him solemnly, then wiping her face with one hand pushed herself to her feet and as confidently as she could muster, made her way to him, where she squared her shoulders as she looked up, "I did it."

"Good. Now then..."

He scooped her up with one arm, her slight weight nearly nothing to him, and started to walk. In moments he noticed the rain still pelting her, even worse now that it had picked up further. Yet another idea crossed his mind, one that would shelter her from the brunt of it and enable him to move faster. He loosened the belt overlaying his coat, tugging it aside enough to place her underneath, where she was now tucked against his chest and torso and re-cinched the belt, essentially turning it into a makeshift sling.

"Hold on." he said, and he felt her knot her hands in his shirt as he took off at a run.

Greta peered out as they moved, seeing the trees lining the road fly by. She held tight as he'd instructed, feeling his warmth and the strong, steady drumbeat of his heart. He had been so nice to her, even though he was big and looked kinda mean. Most people were actually mean. He reminded her of her papa...she barely remembered him, except that he was big and nice too. She smiled, nestling herself snugly against him and feeling happier than she had in a long time.

A couple minutes later Hazel made it inside the ship, taking a moment to rest from running in the now deluge outside. Watts and Tyrian were already hard at work on repairs, and Tyrian looked up at him with a fake pout.

"Oh, poor thing, you're soaked through!"

Hazel ignored him and went to his quarters, which normally on one of these ships was meant to sleep three people but was the only room big enough for him. Removing his charge from his coat and setting her on the unused bed, he then shed the garment entirely. Stepping into the tiny adjoining bathroom he grabbed a clean towel, coming back to her.

"You need to dry off. Here..." he carefully rubbed her head and she giggled, shaking out what he now realized was a soft auburn-brown hair. The rain had actually cleaned her up quite a bit. He then wrapped the towel snugly around her and told her to keep it on for a while. This done he sat heavily on his own bed across from her to plot his next move; he was loathe to admit he hadn't a clue what he was doing. Step one; get her off the street, sheltered, and on her way to her aunt, was complete. Now step two..?

He looked through the open door of the room, then back to her, sitting there swinging her legs and making her toy 'walk' across the blankets, "Are you hungry?"

Greta nodded, "I could eat a doughnut thiiiiiis big!" And spread her arms as far as she could.

"Then I'll get you something," he stood, not letting her see him wince. It was true he couldn't feel pain, but all the stiffness and joint damage he'd done to himself cropped up from time to time. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He made his way to a small back area that served as a crude kitchenette, opening a cabinet to see what they had left. Some military rations left from Brothers-knew-when that they'd ignored, Watt's stash which was strictly off-limits, though for a moment Hazel considered it, some canned goods, and then a few of his own homemade protein bars and pre-packaged pastries. He took one of the protein bars and an apple danish and headed back. Upon entering he didn't see her, so he knelt to look under the beds and finding nothing, started to feel a ripple of concern.

"Greta?" he inquired.

His ears caught the softest rustle and giggle, and upon her bed saw the blanket move ever so much. He realized now where she was and stepped over to flip the blanket aside. Out popped a proudly grinning Greta, "BOO! You found me!"

"Good, I thought you'd wandered off."

"Awwww!" she pouted, "But I'm a scary ghost!"

"...Is the scary ghost still hungry?"

"YEAH!"

Greta jumped to her feet and upon spotting the danish, practically tried to climb him to get at it. He quickly handed it over and she plopped herself in the middle of the bed, tearing into the food with gusto, doing little bounces and hums of joy. He sat across from her, slowly eating the protein bar she'd rejected and wondering for probably the dozenth time what he'd gotten into.

Abruptly the vessel shuddered, and he could hear the engines roaring to life coupled with Watt's triumphant shout. The ship started to lift off, and Greta gasped, dropping the wrapper from her danish and scrambling to the window, seeing the ground move further away.

"Are we flying Mr. Hazel?!"

"Yes."

She began to bounce on the mattress, chanting and laughing "I'm flying I'm flying!" while flapping the towel she still wore like a pair of wings. Seeing her overjoyed by something to him so mundane, and often grim depending on the situation, plucked some long-dormant thread in his soul and he actually felt himself crack a small smile.

"I thought you were tired." he wondered.

"I-am-but-I'm-too-busy-flying-!" she answered in between bounces, then suddenly cried, "Oh no I've been attacked I'm falling catch meeeee!"

Crouching for extra power, Greta leapt and launched herself off the bed right at Hazel. Caught off guard, he nevertheless leaned forward and easily caught her, where she wriggled in his arms and laughed. He raised his eyebrow, again pondering why in the world she'd chosen him...but he was starting to be glad for it. After a minute she stopped and even started to slump against him. He pried her off and held her out to see her eyes slowly blinking, and she yawned loudly.

"I'm...sleepy...too much...flying. Had to make it to...the castle..."

"Then let's get you to bed."

He stepped across to her bed, fixing the blanket as much as possible before setting her down and pulling the covers over her. She suddenly bolted upright, lamenting, "Stinky?! Where's Stinky?"

Hazel bent and lifted the toy from the floor where it'd fallen during her aerial mishap, his best guess being it was a badger, and handed it over. Greta clutched the animal lovingly to her chest and Hazel stood.

"Be careful with your friends. Alright, I'll be right nearby if you wake up and need something. Goodnight, Greta."

"Wait!! Don't leave me! Mama left please don't leave me alone again!"

"I have to go keep watch so you're safe."

"Pleeeeeease?!" she pleaded, on the verge of tears.

He paused, seeing the genuine fear and longing for some sort of reassurance in her face, then sighed, sitting on her bed and scooting so his back was resting on the wall. He gestured and she scrambled into his arms, leaning against him as he held her to his torso, where she settled with a long, contented hum. He fully expected her to pass out at any moment.

But then, she craned her neck to gaze up at him, "Can I have a bedtime story?"

He pinched his brow; ah yes. He should have expected this. Though he did do plenty of reading and knew many tales, the bedtime story variety wasn't his forte. He thought for a moment, clearing his throat and Greta leaned forward with expectation.

"Once upon a time, a young girl took a ride on a flying ship. It was a beautiful day, and soon it was night, with lots of stars. She had had a long trip, and got tired. She went to sleep and had wonderful dreams and when she woke up, she was with her family. The end."

Greta stared blankly at him, then pouted, "That's not a real bedtime story!"

"If I tell you another do you promise to try and sleep?" he grumbled, but with a growing tone of affection.

"Pinky promise!" she declared, holding up her small hand.

He hesitated for a moment, but then finished the gesture with her...and a flash of memory he hadn't asked for came to him-

-"If I win this race, you have to do the dishes. If you win, I will!" said Gretchen with her usual bravado.

"Are you going to try and get out of it again?" Hazel replied with a sarcastic smile.

She held out her hand, "Nope! Not this time! I pinky promise!"-

He let his eyes fall shut, carefully refolding the memory and upon remembering another, one perfect for this moment, opened them again. This tale had always been her favorite.

"Very well. Let me tell you the story of The Brave Weaver Girl and the Golden Tree..."

The rain had let up considerably, now simply a gentle patter against the windows, and streaks of moonlight broke through the clouds. Greta was still curled in a ball in Hazel's lap as he continued to speak.

"...and at last, the brave weaver girl had defeated the shape-shifter, and taking some of the golden fruit of the tree to sell, went home to her family. The end."

He glanced down; her eyes were almost closed and her breathing slow and steady. Very carefully, he slid off the bed and turned, gingerly setting her on it and pulling the blanket over her. She hummed, pulling her stuffed toy closer and yawning again as she finally shut her eyes. He slowly started to back away, taking a pillow and a novel with him, hoping she wouldn't notice...and just barely caught her whisper-soft murmur as she said, "G'night papa..."

He stopped short, the shock hitting like he'd been kicked in the gut. ...Papa? His chest tightened uncomfortably and he swallowed hard, conflicting emotions he hadn't known he was still even capable of clawing at him. Exiting, he silently shut the door and turned so his back was against the wall, slumping down until he was sitting cross-legged on the floor to begin his vigil.

Her words kept echoing in his mind. Did she actually believe he was, and that's why she'd approached him? No, if she did she would have said so. It was most likely then she simply saw him as a father figure, a notion that sat heavily in his heart.

He was no type of man to be a father. The things he'd done, the pain he'd caused, all in the promise of a different, hopefully better future yes, but still...he didn't deserve such an honor. Briefly he looked back at his younger self and recalled the time he'd wanted a family of his own someday...a dream long dead.

Hearing footsteps approaching, he flicked his gaze upward to find Watts standing there, a mug of what smelled like coffee in one hand and his Scroll in the other. The doctor stared at him disparagingly for a moment before he spoke.

"May I inquire as to why you're sitting there?"

Hazel glanced around before quietly answering, "I don't trust him."

"Ah, yes, Tyrian did mention you'd ended up bringing your little pet along after all. Well, I'm still not a fan of the whole situation however I'm clearly outmuscled," he leaned against the wall opposite Hazel and took a sip of his drink, "I am curious though; why her? What compelled you to not turn her away?"

"She came to me. I..." he trailed off, having been forced for the first time to truly stop and consider it, "She was an innocent, alone. I know that fate all too well."

"Aaah, I see. Ironic, isn't it?" Watts sniffed, "I wonder how many people you've...dispatched, and here you are suddenly deciding this one life is worth saving. Curious."

Hazel felt his hands clench as they rested on his knees; he was well aware of the many lives he had taken and the, as Watts had put it, ironic nature of this venture. He also was in no mood to be reminded.

He looked Watts squarely in the eyes and said, in that tone denoting having had enough, "If you have nothing productive or helpful to say, I'd like some peace and quiet."

With the faintest eye roll, Watts pushed himself off the wall and turned on his heel towards the front of the ship, saying over his shoulder, "We'll be passing through Fellstone in the morning. Goodnight Mr. Rainart."

Hazel unclenched his fists and let his shoulders relax, having not realized just how much he'd had them tensed. Watt's words had struck a chord, leaving him now with a bitter taste in his throat and dark thoughts he'd hoped to avoid for at least one night. He glanced at the door behind him, through which slept one tiny girl, one that in the brief time she'd been with him, had brought him trouble he hadn't planned on...but also a slight, fragile sliver of joy and even healing. Soon he'd be sending her on her way, but that was good. That was what she needed. For the second time that day, he felt himself forming a small, wistful smile.

Leaning back with the pillow behind his head, he opened his book and settled in for a long, sleepless night...

He sat up with a start, nearly banging his head on the wall. It was much brighter around, and he realized it must be morning. Turning he saw the door was ajar, and with a groan from stiff joints and passing out in an awkward position, he stood and opened the door a little further, stepping in the room. He called her, but got no answer, and assuming it may will be another case of hide-and-seek pulled back the covers of her bed and even the others–but found no sign of her. Fighting back the panic starting to brew, he stepped back into the hall area and called her. It was then he heard her giggling coming from the front control area of the ship and he immediately made his way there-where he froze.

Tyrian sat crouched on a pilot's chair, his tail wrapped around Greta's waist as he rocked her gently back and forth like a swing.

In two long strides Hazel made it over and scooped the small girl up to hold her on his shoulder, cold fury in his eyes, "What are you doing?" he all but growled.

Tyrian stood and wisely sidled around the large man, grinning ear-to-ear, "Ah! Good morning! As I said before, I simply wish to entertain our young guest! She was all alone, poor dear, so Uncle Tyrian came to the rescue! Didn't I, little one?"

"Get out." Hazel stated in a tone that did not invite any further discussion, and Tyrian backed out of the area and out of sight, his smile no less taunting.

It was about an hour later that Watts announced they were near Fellstone and he was going to land the ship a safe distance away. From putting the address into his Scroll, Hazel had realized her aunt's place was a small farm toward the edge of town which was perfect; the less people saw them the better. The thick fog that had settled over the land after last night's rain would further disguise them.

With what time the pair had left, Hazel spent much of it telling her stories and she spun her own yarns, though they were generally much more disjointed.

"Are you gonna stay with us?" she asked at one point as she traced invisible patterns on his arm.

"No. I can't, I have places I need to go. I'm sorry."

"Oh..." she said with disappointment, pressing herself into him a little more, "Okay...hey!" She brightened and clapped her hands, "Maybe you can come visit!"

He felt his stomach knot up. No. He knew what he was, what he'd still have to do, how death and danger were always nipping his heels. The moment she found out who he truly was she'd rightfully despise him-as well as be in grave danger herself. No...it was safest for her if she never saw him again. "Perhaps. We'll have to wait and see..."

Finally, Watts called to him that he was going to land as close as he could, and that they had to make it quick in order to stay on schedule. Hazel sighed and gently picked her up, making her make sure she had Stinky, and they made their way to the outside hatch and down the ramp.

It was damp, and the fog was so dense it obscured the small farmhouse only a short ways off, and thankfully the airship behind them. Through the mist however, Hazel could see lights on in the house and could hear sounds of life. Greta gasped, chattering about the times she'd been here before and all the fun things she'd done. He listened to her well, taking a mental snapshot of this moment to tuck away for when times were harder, to have a small bright spot to look upon and hope everything he did was worth it in the end.

When they had gotten as close as he dared without him possibly being seen, he set her down, making sure the note she had had with her when he found her was still in the pocket of her dress. He then knelt, also as he had done just the day before.

"Now," he said kindly but sternly, "I held up my end of our deal. I got you to your family, now do you remember your part?"

She saluted, "Be strong, be brave, be good, and don't be a Huntress!"

"Very good. Now then..." he stood, "Go on."

She didn't move, just stared at him with those bright blue eyes. He raised his eyebrow, "Yes?"

She held her arms up, and he realized what she wanted. Lifting her he gave her one more hug, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering, "Thank you Mr. Hazel...I'll never forget you. Thank you for being my Papa for a while."

He again felt that kick in his gut but kept himself steady, telling her it had been his honor, and he set her back down. Without another word she turned and ran toward the house shouting happily. He watched her go with a silent prayer, taking a small piece of what was left of his heart with her. A door flew open and a woman came out, calling her in confusion. The woman scooped her up and held her while crying joyfully; clearly this was indeed her relative. Hazel exhaled with a rare feeling of contentment; she was home.

"Greta! My goodness how did you get here?!" her aunt exclaimed in astonishment.

The girl turned and pointed, "The big nice man rescued me! ...mister?"

But by that time Hazel had turned and left, vanishing into the fog...

-EPILOGUE-

Hazel stood in the woods, the fading sunlight shimmering in golden beams through the thick trees, the air beginning to cool. He felt the weight of his axe across his shoulders and could hear the soft calls of birds and the distant bark of a fox.

Where in the world...?

His nose caught a faint whiff of wood smoke and some sort of food, and he looked around to see a small cluster of houses on the gently sloping hillside near him, with many more in the valley below. One house, set just apart from the others, had wisps of smoke coming from it's chimney, and he could now also hear faint voices.

Oh. Yes. Of course. He was heading home after a day at the lumber mill. It was a good job, and payed well. Dinner would probably be ready soon, unless the kids were especially a handful today. He started toward the house, seeing now signs of movement through the windows. One face appeared and moments later vanished, reappearing as they threw open the front door and started running towards him.

"Papa!! Papa's home!" they called, and two more small figures tumbled out the door as well, all happily calling him. He grinned and knelt, setting the axe down and opening his arms as he braced for impact. Moments later three children collided with him in a flurry of hugs, all excitedly talking over each other as they greeted him and described their day. He chuckled, telling them he'd missed them too and stood, hoisting one under each arm as the third clung to him piggy-back and finished the walk into the house.

Still carrying the kids, Hazel strode into the kitchen area, setting them down in their respective chairs. A tall woman with chestnut hair turned and smiled warmly as she grabbed several plates, "Hey you. Glad you're home."

"Hey..." he returned the smile, stepping up to and gently kissing her, earning a collective 'eww!' from the children. He tried to take the plates from her, offering to set the table, but she yanked them back, asking if he'd washed his hands. He coughed and turned to the sink, and she sighed affectionately.

After dinner, the kids were seated at the large oak dining table, one that Hazel had made himself, with their various craft projects, chatting among themselves while the adults played chess in the living room and enjoyed the cheerful, crackling fire in their fireplace.

"You've been staring at the board for a while. You stumped?"

Hazel shook his head, chin resting on his calloused knuckles, "Not yet."

His wife leaned back with a smug grin, "You're getting much better. Maybe someday you'll win, but-"

He reached and moved a piece a couple places, "I believe that's check."

"Wait how-?!" she scanned the board, then wagged a finger at him with a grin, "Oh ho, I see what you did. Very clever."

He looked up at her, deep brown eyes filled with that challenge and fire he fell headlong into love with what now seemed like ages ago.

"You'll probably still win this game, but you won my heart a million times already."

She paused with her hand above the board and met his gaze in appreciative confusion. Smiling softly with a blush she replied, "Of all the times to say something so romantic...trying to distract me?"

"No. Just being honest."

Her expression softened, smile widening a little, and she leaned across to kiss him tenderly, "I love you too...so much. You just surprised me is all."

"Speaking of surprises," he shifted to place his large hand over her smaller one that was unconsciously resting on her stomach, "When are we going to tell them they'll have a new sibling soon?"

She chuckled, "I guess...now is as good a time as any," turning she called, "Hey! Munchkins! Come here please..."

-He awoke with a choking gasp, bolting upright and sweating, for a few moments throughly bewildered; where was he? Where was his wife, their children? This wasn't his home it was-

Gradually, the fog of sleep seeped away and reality's unwelcome claws sunk their way back into his mind. All of it, the love, the happiness, the peace and sense of normalcy was nothing but the crumbling wishes of his subconscious, no doubt brought on by the previous day's and this morning's detour with Greta. Evidently, the girl must have reignited some embers deep within he had long since assumed to be burned to ash. Now however, alone in the icy moonlight, all of it quickly faded again, along with the faces and laughter of his non-existent family. He didn't bother to hold on to them.

There was no point in mouring that which you've never had and never will, after all.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Hey! I saw you were taking requests :3 would you mind writing (hcs, scenario, anything!) a thing where, shortly pre-OVW recall, McCree and his old teammate (f or neutral pronouns are fine but it’s up to u!!) accidentally meet again after he left without warning? Bonus points for “I thought u were dead/I was never gonna see you again” type stuff :p thanks! Sorry if this was confusing!

{This was, like, super fun to write? I did kinda flip part of the script, but it still fits what you asked for (hopefully). Minor warning for implied alcoholism though, oops. It can also be read as more of a “bars exist for brawls” than “alcohol is my coping method” though, so maybe that’s not as bad??? IDK, at least the ending feels cute.} {-J}

After the fall of Overwatch and its subdivisions, there were certain things that you had been forced to accept: Dozens of your friends and coworkers had died, you were out of a job, and everything you had worked so hard for had crumbled into oblivion. So yeah, shit, you ended up drinking away your pain more than once. At this point you weren’t even sure how many places you were banned from. Still, you held onto the pride that came from never starting any fights, instead waiting for some asshole to decide he wanted to rumble with an ex-Blackwatch agent. It was messy, dangerous, and only added to your nasty reputation.

Few organizations would even think of hiring you. Did that make your drinking worse, or did your drinking make the job search harder?... It wasn’t something you wanted to dwell on, especially considering how desperately you were trying to change things. Mercenary work hadn’t suited you for long, as all your clients were faceless, mysterious forces pulling strings from the shadows. How could you trust that they weren’t like Talon?... Or like Blackwatch had become? In the end you had been forced to slink back into the shadows, praying to whatever gods may be that you could still do some good for the world.

That was a couple years ago. You had changed your name, traded out your old gear for something less suspicious, and set yourself up along the halfway point of Route 66. The area was known for its problems with gangs, violence, and a general lack of government intervention. Sure, the road itself spanned across eight different states, but most of it had been in a state of disrepair for a few decades now. The Omnic Crisis was the final push that sealed the region’s fate. Or, at least, it had been. Some people still cared.

Like you. Why else would you be here, now, scanning the horizon, a beer in one hand, binoculars in the other? There certainly weren’t any good birdwatching spots nearby. Just a rundown gas station perfect for staging ambushes, an old school diner with shitty coffee, and a dusty, dirty crevice up high, wonderful for keeping an eye on it all. You didn’t like it up here, but it was the only discreet place to perform surveillance on the local miscreants. 

Apparently a new gang was starting to harass people in the area, despite the proximity to Deadlock turf, and were trying to sell “insurance”. Understandably, that really pissed you off. Sweet-talking one of the locals had gotten you insight on the gang’s general daily routine. Nothing too specific, unfortunately. Now all you had to do was wait for the scum to show up so you could pound them into the dirt.

Taking a quick swig from your beer, you settled in a little, preparing to wait for who knows how long….

    Dust flew into the air like a trail of smoke, blurring your vision but not deterring you in the slightest. You slipped around your target, barely avoiding his second kick, before slamming your elbow into the back of his head. Sure enough he went crashing down with a thud. More dirt was kicked up in the process. At least it made it a little harder for the gang members still outside to target you. Another quick dash landed you behind cover, where you could finally take a moment to breathe.

    “Damn it,” you grumbled, hearing yet another bullet whiz past your hiding spot. There were still four or five gunmen outside. Truthfully, that was the total number of people you had expected to find, not just the backup boys. Sure, you had prepared for unforeseen hiccups, but apparently not enough. In over your head, stuck sitting like a duck, reminded more and more of the old days. Shit, you missed your teammates. Normally Jesse or Genji would have saved your ass by now.

    You missed them. So much, in fact, that you were pretty sure you just heard Jesse’s signature “high noon” line. It almost made you feel like you were a bit more tipsy than you had thought. When the sound of a revolver firing reached your ears, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had actually died; if so, this was the weirdest form of afterlife known to mankind. Curiosity ended up getting the best of you. Crawling to the side, you made sure not to reveal any part of yourself to your enemy, working your way towards the building’s secondary entrance. That was still within the gang’s line of sight, but you hoped it was far enough to the side that they wouldn’t immediately notice you poking around the corner.

    Sure enough, nobody shot at you when you turned the corner. Someone did, however, raise a silver revolver in your direction. Air got caught in your lungs as you stared down that ever-so-familiar barrel. Relief started to flood your chest… until you realized that the gunman wasn’t wavering in his stance. Your gaze follows up his arm, to his face, and you suddenly wish you weren’t wearing this stupid goddamn mask.

    “Hold it, buddy, unless you want to end up like your compadres back there,” Jesse McCree drawls, tipping his head back towards the fallen gang members. Evidently he hadn’t seen you beating the crap out of the ones inside. Still, you raised your hands slowly, showing your lack of weapons. “There we go. Now, take off that there lil’ mask, nice and easy, alright?” You complied, of course, tossing it to the side before throwing a grin in Jesse’s direction. His reaction made you really, really wish you had brought a camera. The normally smooth and put-together cowboy is now slack jawed, a sense of wonder (and something else…?) in his eyes. Soon your name drops from his lips, whispered like a sacred prayer.

    “It’s good to see you too, Jesse,” you manage to reply, still grinning like a fool. Hardly a moment passes before the wind is suddenly knocked out of you. Jesse had holstered his gun, closed the distance between the two of you, and pulled you into a hug in a matter of just a couple seconds. The action catches you by surprise, now making you the one to choke on the words caught in your throat. Still, you manage to hug him back, leaning in to gently rest your head against his chest.

    “Goddamnit, who gave you the right to surprise me like this?” He asks after a few moments of silence, his voice on the edge of breaking. His grip was tight, like a man desperate to keep his sanity clutching onto a lifetime of coping methods. Words failed you, barely managing a confused noise, as you pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. There was something you couldn’t comprehend in his gaze. Something you were missing, that required knowledge you didn’t have. Your head tipped to the side as you hoped for at least a little elaboration. Jesse seems to realize your cluelessness, and shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “I thought you were dead,” he murmurs, the words settling on his tongue with an all-too-familiar weight.

    Shit, you thought, eyes going wide for a moment. Thoughts raced through your head as you tried to process what he said, thinking back to what had happened after Blackwatch’s disbandment, wondering why he could possibly have thought that you were-

….

….

    Fuck.

    Yeah, that tracked. Going from constantly fighting in bars to fucking off to nowhere, changing your name, and turning to the vigilante lifestyle? No shit people thought you were dead. How had you ever thought that this was a good idea?... Sure, most of your old friends had done the same, scattering across the four winds without so much as a “lol bye” (or, you know, a proper farewell). However, that didn’t mean that there weren’t still people who cared, who you could have at least made the slightest effort to keep in touch with before disappearing. People like Jesse.

    “Now that you mention it, I realize I didn’t exactly leave much room for thinking anything else,” you replied, barely managing to speak through your embarrassment. A laugh tried to move past your teeth, even though you knew the timing was bad, but the sound died as soon as your gaze met Jesse’s.

    “That’s one hell of an understatement, old friend,” he said, hardly a trace of mirth to his name. Both of his arms were still around your frame, gently cradling you, as if a stiff breeze might sweep you away from him once more. You could feel his body shifting with every breath he took, slowly finding yourself matching the movements. One of Jesse’s hands moves to cup your cheek, fingers sliding so carefully that you almost didn’t feel it, but you lean it instinctively, finding your lips placing a whisper of a kiss against his wrist. “Darling,” he breathes, voice caught in his throat, blocked by joy and surprise alike.

    “I’m sorry for worrying you, Jesse. I swear I never meant to just vanish like that,” you plead, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “Things were bad, and I… I just ran from that, I guess. But you didn’t deserve that, at all, and I swear to whatever passes for high heaven these days, if you give me a chance-....” Pulled in closer, you couldn’t help but squeak a little when Jesse plants a kiss on your forehead. One of his hands is rubbing gentle circles into your back. A reassurance, one you desperately needed. “I can make it up to you. We can do better this time, right?...”

    Jesse didn’t say anything, at least not at first, but the feeling of his hat settling down on your head gave you all the answers you’d ever need.

[kbstories]

Diachronic

dia·chron·ic (adj.) Occurring over time; historical.

Kidd is torn apart and Killer is (almost) too late.

(Or: Kidd loses an arm, wakes up and recovers.)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experience, Loss of Limbs, Recovery, Heat & Killer For MVP I Do Not Make The Rules

Read Chapter 1 here. Additional content warning for loss of a limb and discussions of limb amputation.

***

“Shit, shit, fuck, shit–”

“Keep going. Boss, you there? Hey.”

“So much blood, fuck.”

“We got you out, Boss. You’re safe. The Punk’s right there.”

“Wire, his arm...”

“Boss. Eyes on me, ‘kay? Killer– He’s fine. Right behind us. Just stay awake.”

“His arm–”

“Shut up, Heat, I saw it, just– Keep going. Put pressure on his neck.”

“Yeah. Okay, yeah. Where the fuck is Doc?”

“I don’t know. Hey, Boss? …Kidd?” 

“There! Doc!”

“Shit, shit. We’re losing him–”

 “What?!”

“Kidd–!!”

   *

Eustass Kidd comes to the taste of death in his mouth.

A blink, slow, perhaps more becoming-aware than waking from dream. Swirling patterns, clean lines: A wooden ceiling, he recognizes, the thought dim and far-away. The half-dark around him strains his eyes.

Kidd blinks. There’s something on his face. It itches, pulls at his skin. Stings, when he tries to move his head, all the way down to the fuzzy numbness where he presumes the rest of his body is. No point in questioning it – Kidd has had enough near-death experiences to know better.

He blinks, and realizes the world is off. Split into two, one half vague reality and the other– not, dark, a void that wasn’t there before. Blinks and blinks again, eyes squinting, attempting to focus where there is nothing.

That’s… not good, is it?

It’s a little like being underwater, this. Like when the ocean surges around him and every limb goes all loose and useless; when all he can do is search for the faint outline of the sun and marvel at the beams of light that reach for him as he sinks.

Kidd’s mind is swimming, that’s the word, and no part of him should ever be doing that. Killer will be mad, Kidd thinks.

For swimming, and for whatever is on his face, and for tasting death.

Killer will be– 

Kidd drifts.

Consciousness comes and goes like waves over shoreline sand, sometimes sliding over rocks unchanging, sometimes grabbing onto something and dragging it along. Kidd loses bits and pieces to that tide, chunks of time that sift through his fingers unchecked. A call of his name, quiet. Then – or perhaps later, much later – a gentle pressure wraps around his hand, and he notices it exists, his hand that is, and the hand in his hand. 

Making sense of things is hard but this is something Kidd knows, will always know. Everything is blurry as hell, colors and lines sliding in and out of place: Kidd finds it all the same, that flash of blue that’s inevitably there in his periphery.

Again, “Kidd?”, hopeful now. Not mad (not yet, that is) and oh, Kidd must be fucked up bad. The urge to laugh bubbles up from a place unknown, which is bad too because it’s perhaps a little deranged and because that’s when he remembers he has a body and it hurts.

Kidd can’t tell if he laughs or not. The next wave rolls in, sloshing up to his waist; the current tears at every fiber of his being and Kidd lets go, knowing strong arms will pull him all the way up to the surface soon enough.

*

“Boss. You awake?”

It occurs to Kidd that he is. Pain is all he knows, for a moment that lingers – an ache that pulses at his core like a second heartbeat, a little to the left.

(Another one of those not-good things, to be awake.)

Kidd can think, this time around, and move, and he reaches for his face because life’s a bitch and fuck the pain, he needs that shit off now. Fire runs up his spine, the telltale sting of fried nerves and bruised skin and–

“Ah shit, don’t–”

Nothing? A breath comes out Kidd’s mouth, an eloquent “Whuh?” that was meant to be a full sentence, and whoever’s with him must understand since the next thing he sees is dark-red ink and faded stitches and deep-seated eyes.

Heat.

“Welcome back”, they say, and: “Stop moving or Doc will skin first me and then you.”

Must be bandages then. Kidd’s limbs are heavy, now that he takes the time to notice, blood honey-thick and sticky in his veins; the remnants of whatever Doc shot him up with to keep him down, and Kidd relents. Listens if only because there’s genuine worry in Heat’s gaze, and because listening to them is usually a sound plan when he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. Which, actually–

“Wha’ the fuck?”

Heat huffs, “Stay awake this time and I’ll explain”, and when they push Kidd to lie flat again it’s a touch too gentle. Kidd frowns, at that and at the pinch of Heat’s brow that remains despite the clear relief to their tone. It’s on his way down that Kidd spots Killer’s mask, paint chipped and blood smeared across it like lipstick stains, left on Doc’s cluttered desk.

Where’s…?

And suddenly Kidd remembers, sees flashes of a beach and Shanks’ cold stare and the glint of a blade and painpainpain and Killer, back turned to him and staring down an Emperor–

Kidd’s gut drops and he gasps, “Fuck”, snaps into motion so fast he practically jackknifes. The world spins, little dots of color exploding across Kidd’s vision like shrapnel and he pushes through it, grabs for Heat. “Fuck, Killer–”

Grabs for them and overshoots by a mile, and Kidd can’t see shit out of his left eye but he shouldn’t have– His arm should’ve–

“He’s fine! Killer’s fine, Kidd, sit down for fuck’s sake.”

It’s not like Kidd has much of a choice: His legs give out the instant he puts weight on them and without Heat he’d eaten dirt then and there. As it is, Heat catches him and hauls him back on the cot, decidedly less gentle now.

“Boss. Seriously, just… A lot has happened.”

Kidd shoots back immediately, “Where’s Killer?”, voice rasping low, the tone he gives commands with. Heat’s eyes darken.

“Next door. Sleeping, as he should. Had to damn near fistfight him to get him away from you. It’s been a fucking week, Kidd, if you go and fuck up your stitches now I swear I’ll–”

“Okay, shit, fine. I’m sitting.”

“Good. And cut the crap with the Haki, I’m not going anywhere.”

And… okay, it’s rare for Heat to be rough with Kidd like this. They’re no sunshine by any measure of the word, just unfazed by most things life could possibly throw at them and content to let Kidd do the yelling. Here, now, Heat is– Well, stressed. Upset.

Something aches in Kidd’s chest, entirely unrelated to his injuries. “Tell me”, he says, softer and lacking that timbre. “The crew?”

The tension leaves Heat in one long exhale. They sit next to Kidd, in that void that’s really getting on Kidd’s nerves. A beat, and Kidd feels their long fingers start to pry at surgical tape and gauze.

“Shaken but doin’ okay. Worried sick about you, mostly. Punk’s good, too, before you ask. Wire says we’re two days out from land.”

“Ah.”

(It doesn’t make sense to Kidd, to dock that close in an Emperor’s orbit. Wire knows what he’s doing, though, always has. On this ship his sense for pragmatics is better than anyone’s, even Killer’s.)

There’s light in the left half of Kidd’s world, a too-bright glare that has him squinting instantly. Heat rips the rest of it off without much of a warning – Kidd bites down a groan of relief as the source of that pain-in-the-ass itch is finally gone. He blinks, blinks again, waits for his eye to adjust, bit by bit.

“Thanks.”

“Mh. How’s your sight?”

Kidd focuses on Killer’s mask, closes one eye, then the other. The contrast is substantial, the blue-white-red vibrant and sharp, then dim and off-color. “Could be worse.”

Heat snorts. “Yeah, it could. Doc swore up a storm working on your face.”

There’s a bit of an edge to that, a hint of you owe him, Boss that Kidd hears loud and clear. Here’s to hoping the island they’re headed towards knows what coffee is, Kidd muses. Keeps staring ahead, watching things go in and out of focus as his brain tries to compensate for the mismatched input it’s getting.

An uneasy feeling roils in his gut. It has nothing to do with that.

“Kidd, listen…”

Kidd sighs. “Give it to me straight, Heat. I can take it.”

Heat hesitates but not for long. “Your arm”, they say quietly, and yeah, Kidd remembers something about that too. “There was no saving it. We had to take it off.”

There it is.

Kidd… lets himself sit in it, for a while, in the notion that if he were to turn his head he’d find, what, a stump? A clean cut? Perhaps it’s all gone, his body simply stopping where a shoulder used to be. Kidd should have some sort of reaction to that, shouldn’t he?

Something more than a mind full of static and blank eyes refusing to look.

It’s a visceral thing, an instinct, perhaps, to reach out and touch first: clumsy with residue numbness and the pain he’s been resolutely ignoring nipping at the heels of every move he makes. Heat jolts like they want to hold him back, a hand brushing Kidd’s wrist as a physical reminder to be careful but they let him be otherwise.

Lingering as Kidd’s fingers trace his gauze-lined chest up his neck and the bumps of stitches there. Across the slope of his shoulder (still attached, that’s something, right?) and down his bicep until–

Oh.

Kidd looks. His hand fits weirdly against his arm or what’s left of it, to be precise; his fingers overly big and rough-looking against the white of bandages, pink where the wound is bleeding through. Cradling it, Kidd tries to make sense of the fact it just… ends, three quarters of the way to his elbow.

That’s a stump alright.

“…Boss?”

Heat’s never sounded so small, either, and Kidd shakes himself out of the existential crisis waiting to happen. There’s a lifetime ahead of him to freak out about this, which… Fuck.

“Yeah, ‘m here. Just… processing, I guess.”

There’s nothing to be done about the tremor in his voice. When Kidd glances over, Heat’s lips are pressed tight, their gaze liquid with emotion. “Yeah.” A beat of silence. “We, um. We ran out of anesthetics. So we’re– Yeah. Doc meant for you to sleep a few days more.”

Years they’ve sailed together, and Kidd can pick up on the things Heat leaves unspoken. Those little gaps in their speech like faultlines along the bedrock, microscopic tears in solid steel made to withstand a multitude of its own weight.

“It’s okay”, Kidd mumbles and it’s not a lie. It hurts something fierce but not enough to break him, and it’s not like they went against an Emperor expecting to come out of it unscathed. There’s a reason why Kidd aimed for a duel and not an all-out war.

Still: Fuck.

Whatever Kidd thinks to say beyond that reeks of empty platitudes, the don’t-worry-about-its and the I’m-fines that help no one and change jackshit about anything, so he leaves it at that. Drops his hand – singular, the only one he’s got left – and shapes it to a fist to nudge Heat’s shoulder, push them a little to wipe that sad look off their face.

“Be honest. Y’all just got bored without me, huh?”

There’s surprise and then there’s a slow blink, Heat’s expression going utterly deadpan in the span of a second. “Sure. We all hated having some peace and quiet around here.”

Kidd laughs, “Fuck off”, can’t make it not sound as exhausted as he feels but it’s worth a try, anyways. His body aches, his entire left side especially but Kidd stretches his back anyways, grunts as his spine pops in half a dozen places.

“Where’d ya say Killer is?”

Exasperation joins the mix. “You two deserve each other”, Heat grumbles under their breath, points at the door straight ahead. It’s closed, which is good because the mask is here which means Killer’s sleeping without it.

Kidd squints at it. The distance isn’t too far, maybe if he goes along the wall…?

“Stay”, Heat says, serious again. “I promised Doc a check-up. And nope, you’re not getting out of that. ‘s what you get for almost dying on us.”

Kidd’s mouth shuts on its own accord. You owe him, Boss. “…Fine.”

Shoulders slumped, Heat reaches for Killer’s mask. “And… Soldier said to get him when you’re up. So that’s happening in a few.” They lick their thumb and make an effort to wipe away the blood, eyes fond.

“Go easy on him, ‘kay? He did well as captain, no matter what he’ll tell you.”

As if Kidd would ever fault Killer for any of this. The warning makes something curl in his chest, though, the need to see his partner and making sure he’s okay – they’re okay – one he swallows down with difficulty.

“Noted. Thanks. I mean it, Heat.”

They wave it off with a lazy gesture over their shoulder on their way out. A hand on the knob, Heat pauses. “Hey, Kidd?”

“Mh?”

Their voice is soft, “I’m glad you made it”, a brief window into the hell they must’ve gone through while Kidd slept. Then Heat is gone, and Kidd stares at the empty spot they leave behind and finally lets his heart break, just a little.

*

The stitches are out, all wounds freshly wrapped and Kidd himself hopped up on a not-insignificant amount of painkillers by the time Killer shuffles in, yawning into the crook of his elbow. His right one, that is, the entirety of Killer’s left arm bandaged from shoulder to fingertips.

(Chemical burns, Doc had told Kidd with a grim frown. Acid, most likely, and Kidd swore himself that’s not going to be the first thing he’ll ask Killer about after almost dying right in front of him.)

“Wow”, Kidd drawls instead, a little slurred. “Heat wasn’t jokin’, ya do look like shit.”

There was an attempt not to, at least, and the way Killer pauses mid-step and shoots him a dirty look tells Kidd he failed rather spectacularly. He mutters, “Hey to you too”, sounding just as tired as he looks with those shadows under his eyes and long hair tied in a messy knot. Dressed in a shirt he could swim laps in, and Kidd blames it on the drugs that he recognizes it only after a solid ten-second stare.

“Ain’t that mine?”

“Yeah.” Dragging Doc’s desk chair behind him, Killer sets it down and collapses into it without much fanfare. “You’re awake.”

And Kidd really shouldn’t laugh, but the sheer misery Killer’s radiating reminds him of the Curry Udon Incident years ago. It wasn’t very funny back then, it’s near-hilarious now, and there’s a thousand little details that tell Kidd his partner really isn’t in the mood to reminisce. Kidd smiles all the same; Killer’s eyes are slow to track the motion, narrowing under unkempt bangs.

“What?”

Kidd’s smile turns into a grin. “Nothin’.”

Killer stares. “…Exactly how many pills did Doc give you?

“All of ‘em”, Kidd tells him and cackles at Killer’s quiet groan. “You want some? Feels really good.”

A wordless headshake is all Kidd gets for his trouble. Killer leans forward, though, nudging Kidd’s side with the elbow he braces himself on, chin in hand. There’s the beginnings of a beard there, and Kidd didn’t even notice he could grow one these days.

“Hey, Kil”, Kidd says, even though Killer’s attention is already on him. That feels good, too.

“Hmm?”

Kidd reaches for him, using all his focus to keep his hand somewhat steady as he brushes along Killer’s jaw. “I like this. ‘s cute.”

A hint of a smile. Killer takes Kidd’s hand before it drops away again, slender fingers wrapping around Kidd’s rough edges with untold tenderness. “Yeah? What happened to me looking like shit a minute ago?”

Kidd pouts. How is he supposed to keep track of this stuff? Merely keeping his eyes open is a struggle, doesn’t Killer know that?

Another try, then. “I meant like, hmm… Ya didn’t sleep at all, did ya?”

“Mh”, Killer replies, which is his way of saying yes when he knows Kidd won’t like the answer. “There wasn’t exactly time for a nap, between getting our asses outta there and watching the crew and–”

Nothing. Killer’s jaw clenches and he falls silent, gaze dropping to where their hands are intertwined.

“It doesn’t matter. Sorry I wasn’t there when you… Yeah. Sorry.”

Kidd realizes, with some delay, that Killer is an idiot and also that Heat was right. They usually are. “You’re sor–? K. Look at me. Killer.”

Killer looks at Kidd and that heartbreak Kidd was saving up for some indefinite point in time in the future? It’s not giving him a choice in the matter, not anymore. Not when there’s pure anguish in Killer’s eyes, dark and hurting where no one but Kidd can go look for it.

Kidd, who spent a week more dead than alive. Fucking shit.

“This entire thing was my idea.” Kidd squeezes Killer’s hand, pulls him closer with the little energy he can muster. “Mine, not yours, Kil. What the fuck?”

“Kidd”, Killer starts and just, no. Hell no.

“I wanted that duel. I ate shit for it, so what? We knew it’s a possibility. A risk. We can’t conquer the New World if we don’t–”

“You lost an arm, Kidd.” Killer grits his teeth hard enough even Kidd can make it out, hazy as things are. “Almost lost an eye. Almost lost your life. How am I supposed to feel about that? Tell me ‘cause I don’t– I can’t… Fuck.”

A shaky breath is all the warning Kidd gets before Killer pulls away, gets up, the hand that slips out of Kidd’s grasp going to Killer’s face and still unable to hide how his lips pinch downwards, trembling.

For a long moment all Kidd can do is stare and try to catch his mind from complete freefall. This… Not good, definitely not good.

“Killer. C’mon, don’t… Hey.”

Killer inhales, exhales. Wipes at his eyes and looks at Kidd because he can’t help it, can he? He’s always listened to Kidd, no matter if he’s dead-tired or down-and-out or pissed off beyond measure. Kidd can count the times he’s seen Killer cry on one fucking hand, and that includes the times when they were kids and Killer didn’t have a mask to hide behind yet.

Yet Killer… stands there like can’t stand being close to Kidd, not now; Kidd’s heart clenches, threatens to stop functioning altogether.

“Call me an asshole. Do whatever you want just… Don’t leave, okay? Don’t leave. Please.”

There are still tears on Killer’s cheeks but– “’m not”, the words are a wet-sounding sigh more than anything. “You’ll just run after me and fuck up”, a vague gesture to Kidd, “That. All of it. Even more.”

Kidd’s lips tug up, just a bit. “Hell yeah I will.” A pause, uncertain despite himself. “Come back? I won’t say shit, promise.”

Killer sniffs. “Doubt that.” He makes his way to Kidd much like he arrived, exhaustion written all over his shoulders, near-boneless with it. Letting Kidd grab onto the hem of his – technically Kidd’s – shirt and following the tug to the edge of Kidd’s cot.

“Get in.”

“We won’t fit.”

“Get in. C’mon.”

Killer does, his bony knees jabbing Kidd’s one too many times to be a coincidence. The cot creaks dangerously under their combined weight but it holds and, oh, this is nice. Perfect, really. Killer is right there like this, frowning down on Kidd as Kidd grins up to him.

“Hi.”

“Now what?”

“Now you sleep.” Kidd gestures to his outstretched arm with his chin for emphasis, wincing as the motion tugs at his neck. And his face. Ouch. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Kidd. You’re this close to passing out.”

“And? S’are you.”

With how stubborn Killer can get, Kidd marks it down as progress when his partner reviews their current predicament with a critical glance. “Gonna have to turn my back on you”, he mutters, and: “Don’t move. Just stay put.”

Kidd is happy to do exactly that, watching Killer flop on his side and hiss as the movement jolts his arm. This close, Kidd can feel the heat coming off the wound – he promised not to say anything stupid, so he opts to say nothing at all. Just curls himself around Killer as best as he can without touching it, which isn’t much given his own arm is– Yeah.

“Kil?”

Almost nothing.

“…Yeah?”

Kidd rests his forehead against Killer’s neck, breathing him in. “Thanks. For everything.”

And it’s enough, to feel Killer’s quiet hum against his chest. There will be time for everything else, later.

[writtenonreceipts]

In all honesty, Runaways was supposed to be a single one-shot.  And here we are.  Not sure how I feel about this one. Oh well…Takes place amid the main events of this fic and in conjunction with this fic.  Based on characters from the Throne of Glass series.

TW: None, mentions of addictions, death.

they are the runaways. before they set out on a trip to take aelin back to her family, rowan and aelin grow together in their past lives of addiction.  slowly, ever slowly.

a sinner in the sun

They have a hesitant friendship that has been established by phone calls that stretch all night long, phone calls that consist of panic attacks, and phone calls that consist of nothing at all.  Sometimes they say nothing.  Sometimes they say everything.

Because oddly enough, he has turned into someone that she depends on.  Too much, apparently, but she doesn’t realize that.  Not yet.

Aelin hates talking on the phone.  With a passion.  But texting is just as horrible because sometimes her words come too fast and her fingers can’t keep up and autocorrect is the literally devil incarnate.  Everything becomes a jumbled mess that is nearly untranslatable.  Just like everything about her.  So she calls instead.  

“I need your help,” she says one day into her phone.

It’s too early in the morning for hellos.  The sun is barely breaking through the clouds and the pale pink haze of morning stains her dingy old apartment.  Any other day she would curl up with a book.  Or she’d go out for a run.  Something to distract her from her mind, but today she has to be an adult.

Rowan is immediately at attention on the other side.  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Aelin pauses.  She realizes then that this is the first time she has called him while not in crisis mode.  Today, she is okay.  She is happy. She wants to be alive.

“Nothing,” she says as she realizes the mistake of the call.  One hand immediately tangles in her hair and she cringes.  “It’s nothing.  Really.  Never mind. I shouldn’t have called.”

“It’s obviously something if you called,” he replies.  “You hate the phone.”

She can hear the smirk. “Buzzard.”

“What do you need?”

“I found a new apartment and I need some help moving.” She forces it all out in a single breath and waits.

“I’ll be right there.”

#

He brings reinforcements.

Fenrys is too happy for life.  Dark skin, gold hair, and a rakish smile.  He bounces around her apartment telling her to steal what she wants from her old roommate who isn’t there.  He cracks some joke about her calling Rowan buzzard.  He smiles because he wants to.

Lorcan is the exact opposite.  Black hair, black eyes, and a scowl to rival Rowans.  He grabs what’s been boxed and labeled dutifully.  He says nothing about anything.  Aelin can feel the sorrow oozing off of him.  The tiredness, the angst.  He firmly believes he deserves his misery.

All Aelin can gather about how they know each other is from years ago when they were children and had started their own gang.  A gang that involved eating sandwiches and playing squirt guns, but a gang nonetheless.

Aelin realizes that this is just the start of Rowans family.  And it is strange she realizes.  Strange to see the three men, like brothers, laughing and joking.  It is strange to realize that Rowan has a past, a history. Because as much as he has talked about it before, it’s just now coming to life before her.  In the form family.  And that’s a language she never learned to speak.

“You have too many books,” Lorcan tells her as he stares at the boxes she has accumulated.

“Impossible,” she scoffs.

Lorcan makes no reply and begins hauling them out of the apartment.  It’s unfortunate really, seeing as how she lives on the third floor and it is getting close to reaching a hundred degrees outside.  She’s going to have to buy them all coffee and pizza after this.

When Rowan slips back into the apartment, he’s shaking out his hair that is distinctly shorter than the last time she saw him.  Less scruff on his chin too.  Which is nice because his face is far to lovely to be hidden like that.

Aelin realizes where her thoughts are going and distinctly turns away from him to stuff a drawer full of silverware into a box.  It all clatters together unceremoniously.  It’ll be a bitch to put away when she gets to her new place but she needs the distraction.  For now and for later.  Because now she can feel his eyes on her.  Those beautiful eyes that remind her of the forest and of running and of being free and she can’t take it.  Not now. Not after the other night when they’d talked for so long.  And later…when she’s alone with her thoughts all she’ll want to think about is him.  

“You’re going to regret that later,” Rowan says, eyes still on her.

“Probably,” she says and shrugs.  “I’ve come to live with my regrets.  By running away from them, burying them.”

He raises an eyebrow and amusement laces his voice.  “I don’t think it’s supposed to work that way.”

“Does for me.” She gives him a wicked grin and this one doesn’t feel forced.  Instead it’s almost lighthearted.  It’s followed by a small burst of laughter and it is glorious.

#

Hours later they’ve cleared out her old apartment and the boys have helped her move everything inside. They’re just bringing up the last of the boxes and Aelin’s ordered pizza and Chinese food.  Anything and everything she can think of so they know she’s grateful.  Because just saying it isn’t something she can do.  Not yet.

And hours later still, it’s just her and Rowan.

The studio apartment is impossibly small.  It’s got at least ten different fire hazards.  The hot water doesn’t work.  And the lock of the front door is dodgy at best.  But it’s hers.

She and Rowan are sitting on her floor staring at the unjust screen of his laptop trying to watch a show but Aelin won’t stop laughing at the paltry accents being used.  Because apparently hiring real actors from the country they were filming in was too much work.  So instead she laughs and Rowan is ready to smother her.

But he doesn’t. Instead he’s grinning stupidly at her as she laughs.  The sunset drifts through one of her windows casting long shadows around the room. She doesn’t notice the way his eyes ling on her.  Not really. She doesn’t notice the way they’ve been sitting so close together.  Not really.

What she is focused on is the fact that she doesn’t want the moment to end.  Because if the moment end, if the laptop goes away then she has to either let Rowan go for the night or do something about it.  And doing something about it… well…that would require change.

And the last time something in Aelin’s life changed she spiraled down deep than Alice’s Wonderland hole.

She tries not to notice him despite the fact that he is all she can think about.

“What?” Rowan asks.

Blinking, Aelin realizes she was staring.  Of course she was because with the way the computer screen lights up his face and the setting sun in the windows behind him—he is illuminated.  Suddenly she feels like she’s seeing him for the first time. Because today she learned about him.

She learned he’s always had a thing for hawks.  Loved reading about them as a kind and learning all there was to know.  He calls Fenrys “Pup” and treats him like a younger brother and damn Rowan would make a good brother to anyone.  Lorcan teases him about being old even though Lorcan himself is older than all of them.  Rowan hadn’t spoken to his friends in over a year.

And in secret—silent and careful—Fenrys thanked her for staying with him.  For being with him when they weren’t.

And that simple sentiment terrifies her.  Because she is rarely there for anyone.  Not sense the damn summer days of daisies and dirt bikes.

“Aelin?” Rowan repeats. His brow creases in worry and she finds herself swallowing stiffly as one hands reaches for something…something that isn’t there.

“Nothing,” she says and stands.  “Water?”

She doesn’t have alcohol in the kitchen.  Not since Rowan told her about Lyria not since she learned about how he fell all those years ago.

Instead of waiting for him to ask, she gets a prepackaged water bottle for him.  After tossing it his direction she digs around in the back of a cupboard she made sure to unpack herself.  She grabs the bag of taffy and immediately stuffs one in her mouth.  

Supposedly when she has an urge she can distract her body by eating something else.  But she thinks that only works with smoking.  Not anything she really wants.  But she can try.  She can pretend.

When she settles back beside him on the floor his eyes are on her.  And not like they were before.

“Aelin,” he says slowly.

He hasn’t touched his water. She eats more taffy.

It’s what she does. The distraction.  She doesn’t want to think about anything.  Doesn’t want to think about before with the dirt bike and Sam. Not the scars.  Not where she fell.  She doesn’t want to be that person.  Not after seeing who Rowan is and what he’s become.  Because today she learned that she doesn’t deserve him.

How could she?

He reaches a hand out and rests it on hers where she’s trying to dig out another piece of taffy. There are callouses on his fingers and she can’t help but shiver at the touch.  Can help but shiver at that gentle touch of his.  Because hell—how long has it been since someone touched her so carefully?

“Aelin?” he repeats. Slow.  Pity.  No.  No, Rowan doesn’t pity her.  She knows that much about him.  He wouldn’t pity her for this.

“It’s nothing,” she finds herself whispering.  Shaking her head, shea drags her fingers through her hair.  “Sorry, I zoned out.”

She can’t tell him what she’s thinking.  Can’t let him know that all she wants to do is see what he tastes like because maybe that will help her.  Distract her enough.

She doesn’t deserve him.

His fingers curl tighter around her hand.  When Aelin tries to pull her hand away from his, he intertwines their fingers instead.

“You’re not alone,” he says. “You know that right?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I know.”

#

The next day Rowan is already at her apartment.  He hasn’t bothered to change out of his scrubs.  There are bags under his eyes and she knows he didn’t get any sleep last night despite her insistence that he do.

“What are you doing?” she asks.  

He’s standing on her one kitchen stool glaring up at the fire alarm. “Fixing this.”

“It’s fine,” she tells him. She eases around him and slings her purse on the counter.  It had been a long day of answering phones.  Somehow, she’d gotten hired as a receptionist as a law firm.  The same law firm, it turned out, that Fenrys was interning at. She’d tried to corner him about it when she learned the truth but he merely winked and shrugged.

“With your cooking?” Rowan lets out a laugh.  “No. You’ll burn this place down in a day.”

“How would you know if I can cook or not?” She stares up at him hands on her hips.  

“Please, Aelin,” he says. He jams the cover into place and hops down from the stool. “I’ve seen your car.  You’ve hit up every fast-food joint in a thirty mile radius.”

“I’m just trying to find the best French fry,” she says, “you can’t blame me for that.”

The smile that crosses his mouth is sinful.  At least, it elicits sinful thoughts in her head.  Thoughts that she has no business having.

“You at least could have waited for when you had a day off and weren’t coming off a shift,” she says.

He shrugs. “It’s fine.”

“You’re exhausted,” she presses.

“It’s fine.”

“Rowan.”

They stare at each other. She is fascinated by his eyes—like always.  What he is so enraptured by in her she doesn’t know but she’s developed a long list about him. Too long.

“I ordered pizza,” he says.

She sputters a laugh. “You ordered pizza?  You were just making fun of me for my lack of cooking skills.”

“I’m a hypocrite.”

“Whatever,” she says and heads to her closet for a change of clothes.  She pauses and looks back at him. “How the hell’d you get in here?”

His expression holds no shame. “I convinced your landlord to give me a copy.”

“Ass,” she says under her breath.  Not quiet enough because he lets out a booming laugh.

It’s the first time in a while that laughter has been in her home, in her life.  And she has to admit, she loves it.  It is glorious.  For once, she can convince herself to be carefree.  Right up until the pizza arrives they are teasing each other. Insults and bickering and eyerolls and scoffs.  For the first time in a while, she could let herself simply be.

Maybe that’s why she does it.

Later, when he’s trying to convince her that she does actually need more than one chair in her apartment.  He’s so adamant about having more chairs that she can’t stop laughing.  He’s making jibes at all the pillows laying all over her bed so why can’t she have another chair?

Because the floor is perfectly comfortable is not a valid excuse.  Nor the fact that she has no friends.

“Fenrys will be highly offended by that statement,” he says.

It’s as he’s leaning over to pull her laptop closer because it’s his turn to pick the movie they watch.  He’s so close that she can feel his body heat. She can catch the faintest hint of cologne lingering on his skin.

And she moves.  It doesn’t take much to to reach out and tug his chin up.  Doesn’t take much to lean forward and kiss him.  It’s a barely there sort of the thing.  The graze so light that they could easily pretend it never happened.  If only her fingers weren’t pressing into his chin and holding him in place.  Of course, he could pull away.  He should pull away.  She should to.

But they don’t.

And Aelin is staring into those eyes that have undone her ever since she woke up in that hospital bed. Her heart is pounding ferociously in her chest and panic starts to snap through her blood.  What the hell did she do?

Her best friend.

Her only friend.

She is a terrible, terrible fool.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.  She drops her hand from his face and tears her eyes from his.  The flush rising on her skin reminds her of the sun from that summer and it’s quickly becoming too much.  Too much.

Everything is too much.

There is hardly a pause though when Rowan is reaching for her, his large hand cupping her cheek and he pulls her face back towards him.

The silence of the night echoes around them.  Not even a car back firing or howl of a dog.  Just them, left alone in the world.

He moves first this time and presses his forehead against hers.  His eyes flutter closed as he breathes her in and in that moment, Aelin swears it’s the most intimate she has ever been with anyone.  Even Sam.

When he kisses her, Rowan is insistent.  His mouth moves against hers it is with urgency and longing.  Aelin finds herself gasping and raising a hand to grip his arm so she has something to ground her—something to keep her steady.

And after all this time she should have known he would have been that grounding force.

They don’t have the time to move beyond that moment.  Not when Rowans pager goes off.

Cursing, he pulls away from her and fumbles for his phone and pager.  “Damn.  I need to go.”

Aelin nods.  What’s she supposed to say to that?  She looks at him.  “It’s fine.”

She’s certain he moves to touch her again, to kiss her.  But instead, Rowan rises.

He’s at the door before he looks back at her and in the dim lighting of her terribly sad, new apartment he smiles. “I’ll text you.”

And he is gone.

And Aelin doesn’t know if she believes him.

#

Thanks for reading my dears!

Tags:  @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover @esco--s 

[g0dspeeed]

Unconditional Positive Regard, 1

Distractions can never be a factor in a mission, gig, or side job. It will lead to recklessness, failure, or worse, a tainted reputation. And to Adam Smasher a tainted reputation is not something he could possibly afford.

But what if he found something, someone, worth risking that reputation for? What if he learned what it meant to be understood? To be known?

=================================

Referral

The evening air had a dankness to it, a sort of wet smell concocted of synthetic chemicals, shit, and sulfur. Such is the nature of the outer fringes of Night City, where all waste is excreted from its bowels and into the air of its most impoverished. The scent could sting the nostrils and cause others to recoil in disgust, but not the being that navigated through the maze of storage containers with such razor-sharp focus. Whatever his body was processing from the rank stench around him, the information dissipated into white noise.

Distractions can never be a factor in a mission, gig, or side job. It will lead to recklessness, failure, or worse, a tainted reputation.

And to Adam Smasher a tainted reputation is not something he could possibly afford.

Despite his heavy frame, he traversed the area like a shadow. Cybernetic eyes constantly scanned the dark environment, making note of every heat signature and change in moisture levels. His optic implants were the sole giveaway of his presence as they lit the way to his objective in their red glow. He prowled towards a mass of fiery hues in the back corner of the yard, a new sense of cautiousness stirring his mind.

The yard was quiet. Wasn’t surprising considering how far out the area was from the crowded, rowdy streets of the metropolis’s entertainment districts.

There.

Loud cackles of laughter broke the tension, a chorus of rasped, mechanical voices.

Adam sneered immediately.

Their brash voices along with the crude application of their cyberware made it easy for Adam to identify who exactly he was messing with that night.

Maelstrom.

Not that Adam ever utilized much of a moral compass himself. Like any other hired gun in Night City the merc followed the glory and the eddies with reckless abandon. Getting his hands dirty for the promise of good payment? Same shit, different day.

As much as he worked to set himself apart from the herd, he wasn’t blind to unfortunate similarities. A stroke of humility, he guessed.

Still, there were hard limits for Adam. Microscopic, but there. Though he rarely took inventory of them, Adam turned down jobs in the past based on some form of internal code, some ethics that never sprouted to full fruition since his youth. Maelstrom on the other hand, didn’t seem to give a flying fuck.

If he were a weaker man, he’d probably reflect on what those limits of his were.

But of what stock he took in that conscious inventory of his, a stubborn denial of vulnerability was in abundance.

His focus centered on the group by the fire. Three men and one woman.

Without an ounce of flair, a frag grenade was activated and tossed from his place around the corner. There was only a brief grunt of surprise from one of the men before the grenade detonated, a burst of flames swelling from an explosion that had enough force to rumble the earth below Smasher’s feet.

The mercenary walked through the smoke without fear. Dirt and rock crunched under his heavy steps, bits of flesh and bloodied cyberware mixed in like mulch.

Initial scans came up empty. A small itch of agitation started to irritate Adam as she scoured the area for what he bothered coming to this shit hole for in the first place.

An exhale through the nose.

Another intake of foul air. Smelt like copper now.

Another scan.

Ah, there it was.

Scuffed, but intact was a large, black case, the red Arasaka emblem in plain sight. Another scan and it was confirmed that the cyberware past the armored panels was unharmed.

His mechanical hand gripped the case tightly. As he picked it up from the ground, a broken groan sounded from behind him.

One of the Maelstrom thugs had stirred despite the blood that caked his head and optic implants in thick, dark clots. Part of his calf was missing, leaving behind a smoking, blackened hole that sparked and twitched involuntarily.

Adam watched as a gnarled hand, whatever was left of it, slowly crept across the ground in a pained effort. Tracking his futile path, the merc sighed at spotting a pistol.

With the same amount of flat enthusiasm, Adam approached the dying man. Fear from the sight of Adam’s large body pushed the man to stretch out towards the weapon with a new vigor. It wasn’t enough. Slowly, Adam’s heavy foot stepped down on the man’s hand. With every passing second, Adam allowed more and more of his weight to crush him. High screeches of pain cut through the night air. The man’s fingers snapped under the merc’s weight, splintering through the skin as his knuckles became mush.

Something rewarding filled Adam, a familiar sense of satisfaction at destroying any barrier to his job’s success, to his own success. Music to his ears.

His own fingers reached to grip the man’s pistol. The cries had stopped, replaced with an irritating whimper. After inspecting the weapon briefly, Adam pointed the barrel at the man’s temple. Their eyes locked. He pulled the trigger without a second thought.

Jobs such as the one in the storage yard were not impressive to Adam. Not like they used to be. True, they raked in eddies, maintained his reputation, and put in a good word to Arasaka. Another step in the right direction. But ultimately, Adam craved more. The understanding that there was another rung in the ladder, another step up that hung above him almost teasingly motivated him, drove him to remain in Arasaka’s good standing, but also made these smaller jobs feel mundane.

Hope, or perhaps intuition, pushed Adam to accept more and more gigs with the major corporate company. In turn, they welcomed his skillset with open arms. He was in good favor with Arasaka to say the least. His cyberwear and mods made him a walking advertisement to the company’s tech ingenuity. Ever since someone from Arasaka saw potential in Adam and essentially saved his life, he owed them, but not in a way that would cause any bitterness. They didn’t hold it over his head. No one dared remind him how close Adam was to death so many decades ago, how the fact that he was still up and around to carry out these small gigs was something short of a miracle.

No, there was a sense of duty. A sense of service.

A loose leash. One that could only be held respectfully by the highest level of the executive board or the Arasaka family itself. They knew to hold it right, hold it in a way that didn’t shift that steady servitude to rebellion.

Any tighter and he’d give ‘em the middle finger, founding family be damned.

This isn’t all to say that he’s happy. An existential crisis, perhaps? A crossroads. He valued his freedom as well as the power to say ‘No’ far too much to allow a corporation to have a leash around his neck, yet here he was. The hypocrisy stung on some days. Oh, he was aware. Adam didn’t oppose heavily modifying his body with the best combat and weapons tech eddies could buy. His limbs were implants, as well as his eyes and parts of his skull and spine. However, at this point Adam was made up of more cyborg than human, and the corporation was still pushing for more modifications, more upgrades. With their direction, he made for a powerful ally and an intimidating enemy. Arasaka was utilizing his hunger for power to their advantage, something that Adam was aware of and allowed. What haunted him most was the knowledge that if his younger self, the version of him that started out poor and desperate in New York, if that kid saw who he had become, who he served and got his eddies from, that Adam, that young and confident kid would be absolutely disgusted. A sellout. A corpo slave. It was easier to ignore on most days, especially after a job well done that was full of action and dominance over NC’s most brutal whose reputation countered his own. The night he took down the likes of Johnny Silverhand? A chef’s kiss to his success.

Yet, the self-loathing was there. It came when he arrived home when the door closed, and he found himself alone.

It settled in like a parasite, eating him from the inside out.

Whatever that feeling was, the one full of drive and promise, it brightened when he debriefed with one of the Arasaka executive assistants a few days after the yard gig was closed. Adam stood squarely in a polished conference room at Arasaka’s Night City headquarters, his frame towering over a finely-dressed man on a floor that was likely cleaned every day, his own reflection glaring back at him.

“Your continued service is much appreciated by Arasaka and its associates,” the man read from a tablet in his hands. Manicured hands. Smooth to the touch, they looked. Probably didn’t do a day of hard labor in his life, thought Adam.

Adam’s focus shifted back to the face of the messenger. A light sheen of sweat was forming.

“Our s-satisfaction,” continued the assistant, “Leads us to consider future opportunities. We have a task of great importance to the Arasaka family and the company.”

At that, Adam’s curiosity piqued. Strange. Normally these messages were short and to the point. This message seemed more formal, more alluding.

“While we are and will be considered your client for the entirety of this transaction, including the provision of any and all financial compensation for your time and services, another party is responsible with insuring that your efforts are specific to our request and uphold our standards.”

His mood soured instantly.

There it was.

The other shoe.

“Why the hell would ‘another party’ be necessary?” he questioned.

The man flinched.

“Um,” he mumbled. “W-What I know, Mr. Smasher, sir, is, um, that the third party is being contracted by Arasaka’s research department, specifically, and um, Mr. Yorinobu Arasaka thought it best that they themselves explain the nature of their contract and expectations, sir.”

Adam glowered down at the sweaty messenger before stalking towards a nearby window. As he gazed out towards the city, his mind wondered at all that he heard.

“Is Yorinobu Arasaka coming to Night City?” he called out to the man.

“No, sir.”

“Then why is he interested in a third party here? Why not one in Japan?”

“I-I’m not privy to that answer, sir.”

Adam scowled.

Yorinobu Arasaka wasn’t someone who ever contacted or had anything to do with Adam’s role in the company. It was all new territory, and frankly it irked Adam to be in the dark, much less rely on someone else, this ‘third party’ as it were, to make sure he was doing his job correctly.

Why the bullshit?

Why complicate a simple thing?

The rest of the message consisted of the time and place in which Adam was to meet the unwelcomed third party.

“Just send me the damn address,” snarled Adam as he stalked out of the conference room door.

What the man responded with Adam had no idea. He was already slamming the door shut behind him. The frame rattled.

[oneirataxxiaa]

WITCHES AND DRUIDS

a little gift for @silverdecepticon93 for their amazing writing. some klarion content!

written by Persephone. Anastasia did some editing and helped me write Klarion correctly. It's a bit of a slow burn, and I probably got some story facts wrong, but I hope you enjoy!

requests are OPEN , remember to specify who you would like to write your oneshot. Anastasia, or Persephone.

• • • •

It's not that the weather wasn't pleasurable, it was, really. the sun was out, reflecting off the oceans subtle waves and warming the grey pavement just enough for beach-goers with no shoes to begin to hop from foot to foot. The wind was perfect, swaying the tall palm trees that lined the coastal road, every now and again, causing a hat to fly off in its cool breeze, making it's owner run after it with calls of protest. A girl in her late teens leaned back on a uncomfortably tacky faux beach chair just outside the open air cafe. Her hair moved slowly, partially from the outside breeze and partially from the squeaking old metal fan making slow rotations just inside the door. It blew no dust, so it was clearly well used considering the heat.

Happy Harbour seemed just that, happy. Everything had been calm the past few months, villain attacks were incredibly low, no major plots had been uncovered, and the group known as The Light was seemingly inactive after the league and teams triumph over them. The lack of attacks had Robin and Kaldur on edge anticipating something being planned in the shadows, but Y/n, Artemis, Megan and Wally had taken the opportunity to enjoy Rhode Island for what it was. In the ginger speedsters words, a paradise just waiting to be explored.

Zatanna Zatura was across the round table from Y/n, in casual clothes with a black baseball cap and a vanilla milkshake in hand, sipping on the straw slowly. Y/n herself had her favourite flavor smoothie resting on the table, her phone in hand as the camera on the device recorded what was happening in the small grass patch to their left. Wallace West swore on his life that he had landed a back flip the day before, which the rest of his friends refused to believe. In trying to prove his ability, he was attracting some strange stares from passers by, and rather ice filled glare from a mother who corralled her three kids, most likely in their early preteens, away, hurriedly muttering about 'unethical teenager'. Quite an interesting thing to be thrown their way, but the teen heroes had had worse hurled at them in their exploits as protectors of justice.

"Wally" Megan laughed, a short snort escaping her lips as she watched the boy try to land another flip. " You're going to break something". The Martian was resting on the grass, watching what was happening unfurl.

"cheers to that! please do!" Artemis' words were filled with sarcasm. The blonde teen making her way towards the table and picking up her drink to take a sip. Wally dropped to the ground again and sprawled out on the grass, crushing the green blades under his body. Y/n cringed slightly.

"you girls are no fun, even Connor is more fun to hang out with, at least he encourages me to improve my wicked moves" Wally pulled himself to his feet with a bounce and brushing off his pants with little success, the mucky dew soaked dirt already staining them brown at the knees. Y/n was glad he did his own laundry, she didn't want to be the one to wash those stains out. The girl stopped the video on her phone with the press of a button, dropping her hand to her side and turning the object off.

"I'd like to argue with that" Connor complained, he seemed to have appeared out of no where, walking towards them, ebony shirt still sporting the superman signal. He seemed a little happier today, perhaps it was the immaculate weather. Y/n reckoned it could put anyone in a good mood, even Connor, who hadn't been as happy has he could have been lately. His relationship with Megan had be strained.

"The man, the myth, the legend, how could you betray me my main man? You're really going to let the girls pick on your best friend?" Wallys drama queen was showing as he rested a hand on his head in a damsel in distress motion.

"Wolf is my best friend, you are" Connor faked a thoughtful expression, "an unfortunate acquaintance". Y/n could see the joking sparkle in Connors eyes. It was strange. Strange, but good. He deserved some joy in these darker days. "anyways, the reason I'm here for two reasons, reason one being because Robin decided to have an identity crisis, he's changing his name"

"Please tell me it's not another bird, I don't want it to be a bird" Artemis groaned, dropping heavily into one of the chairs. It groaned in protest from the sudden and violent weight.

"I don't know what he's gone with, but second reason I'm here is because we've got a new team member, Batman just made a visit and brought someone with him-"

"Batman was at the cave! and you didn't tell me! is he still there?" Wally began to vibrate from excitement, sparks ran down his arms and legs.

"When I left he was, bu-". Wally was gone in a literal flash, leaving the remaining team looking around frantically, glade the citizens of Happy Harbour seemed content in being too interested in their own lives to notice a super-powered boy and his friends.

"we should probably make sure he doesn't break anything, and welcome the new team member huh?" Zatanna said with a sigh, getting to her feet and stretching her arms up, elbows cracking slightly. As the group collected their drinks, waving goodbye to the cafes owner, who they knew well due to their frequent return to the place, Y/n saw something that peaked her interest, making the girl pause and turn towards it.

"Y/n, you coming or what girl?" Zatanna called out. The group somehow was a good ways away from her now, standing, ready to cross the pedestrian crossing at the coastal road. The curious frown on her face must have given something away.

"um, I'll catch up, yeah? say hi to the newbie for me?" the uncertainty in her voice made Zatanna pause, but nod, turning back just in time to walk with the others across the road.

Turning back towards the curiosity, it stared at her with dark eyes, watching her movement. Y/n walked over and bent down, petting the feline behind it's ears, coaxing a purr from the familiar cat-daemon.

"Hello Teekl" the teen greeted, "what are you doing here?" her hand continued to pet the creature, before it shook it's head, pushing your hand away with the action and going to work on licking its paw. Cats were always strange, but she supposed their sudden mood changed were due to their nature.

"I feel like you're just in this for the cute cat" the voice was monotonous and Y/n recognised it immediately. Turning her head slightly, she spied the source of the voice. He looked different, slightly older, taller, and dressed in more civilian esque clothing. Perhaps to attempt to blend in with the surrounding crowds of people.

"The cats a bonus" Y/n gave one final pet to Teekl before walking to the table she was sitting at previously, Klarion Bleak now occupying Zatannas previous location. "How are you? I haven't seen you since the whole light thing". I'd been about five months and the league was still recovering. Klarion got a sour look on his face, pausing, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, a neat black button up dress shirt. He looked, perplexed.

"I've been keeping my head down I guess, Savage lose his mind after we lost, been hounding anyone who talks to about it" the strange look remained on his face. "I've been banned from annoying the justice brats, no offence, until he comes up with something new"

Y/n dismissed the nickname for her team and frowned herself. "Robins noticed, it's got him freaked out, running crazy circles trying to figure out what Vandal Savage is planning" a small grin rose on her face. Klarion noticed movement, seeing small clovers begin to crawl their way out of the cracks in the pavement. That caused the small smile that few saw to appear.

"your magic is getting better". That was how they met. Before the team. Both of them were young magic users, each pulled down a different road. One good, One evil. But between them there was balance, peace. Order and Chaos meeting in the middle for a calm chat and shared news on a sunny day.

"I've been getting better at it, but there's always room for more practice as Aqualad says" Y/n laughed. Silence entered their conversation. It wasn't awkward however, as it sometimes was among friends or co workers. It was a comfortable silence of enjoying a summers day without the chaos of the world. It be nice if things stayed like that, balanced, forever. But soon, Unfortunately, their friendship would burn and break. Being torn to their sides, ripped from the comforting friendship, forced to fight each other to prove loyalty to each side. No. Order and Chaos were balanced, but wars tended to tip that scale and break it. In the process, something much more important was shattered.

fin

[craftypeaceturtle]

My True Identity

Summary: Thomas has started university. His lessons haven’t started yet but he agreed to help out and do a YouTube channel about the student experience. And like the true student, he’s already having an identity crisis. 

Note: Not written to be overly shippy but read either way! This series is a little weird, no idea if it’ll translate well. The idea is just Sanders Sides retold. Feedback would be GREATLY appreciated!

Next Episode!

.

The kitchen was silent. Thomas was completely engulfed in darkness with only the faint glow from the streetlights outside. The floors were already speckled with dirt and the hob was decorated in fine splatters, he noted already knowing he couldn’t be bothered to clean it. They had only all moved in a week ago! But then again four teenagers trying to live independently would always be messy. He groaned loudly before burying his head in his arms. “Oh woah! Oh, Thomas! What are you doing!” Logan’s voice interrupted the stressed silence. 

“Hey...” Thomas muttered back and, without looking, wiggled his laptop mousepad. The screen blasted a harsh blue light against his defeated lump sitting on top of the kitchen stall. Logan paused at the door before actually walking up to him.

“That does not answer my question,” Logan sighed as he leaned against the work surface. Their quest for a glass of water for bed promptly forgotten. 

“I have no idea who I even am...” 

“Yes. Not many people do. The concept of identity is an ongoing struggle. To expect you to have all the answers at the age of 18 for the rest of your life is ridiculous.” They answered with a quiet smile, their shoulders drooped with tiredness but they already knew they were going to do whatever it takes to Thomas through this, “Why, can I ask, is this bothering you?” 

“This stupid YouTube thing I said I’d do,” Thomas actually sat up and explained once he saw Logan’s confusion, “The uni encourages students to creatively express their experience here and essentially promote the university by doing YouTube videos. I thought ‘hey that sounds fun’ and here I am! God, I don’t even know! I thought it’d be a fun idea to do a video about who I am and why I wanted to go to uni. And now I realise I’m not even sure I have a personality.”

“Ah. Well I’d love to help you. That’s a complicated topic when you truly delve into it and well... Believe it or not, I was quite the nerd in school and it’d be fun to help!” Logan smiled and sat themself next to Thomas’ dramatic form. 

“I’m sure that’s a surprise to no one,” Thomas muttered, sounding more harsh than he wanted to. But they were both too tired to really mention it. As he untangled himself and actually sat properly, another of his roommates burst through the kitchen door. 

“Greetings wonderful citizens and you nerds!” Roman winked as he fingergunned Logan, to their immense confusion.

Despite how open and chatty Roman was, they were all still fairly new to each other and some awkward tension flooded the kitchen as well. Already Thomas felt a little squirmy at Logan helping him but this was so much more embarrassing with the actual stereotypical jock flouncing around the kitchen. Not that Roman was bad or anything! Just... Thomas was a true introvert at heart. 

“Hi!” Logan squeaked while Thomas gave a weak salute.

“Now what are we muttering about at 1 in the morning! You’re disturbing my beauty sleep!”

“Oh sorry! We were um... it’s just the YouTube thing again... It’s not important, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey it’s okay! We’re students, what makes you think I was getting any sleep anyway!” 

“Well that just seems unhealthy, why would you del-”

“What’s going on kiddos!” Patton smiled with a giggle as he rose up from the other side of the table. Now, Logan and Roman positively shrieked while Thomas totally remained totally calm thank you very much. Patton was the only one that he had properly warmed up to. The kiddo thing got annoying but he knew that Patton didn’t mean it insultingly. He was the first to move in and so the first one to meet him. He immediately helped him unpack and sat with him when his parents finally left. While he wasn’t sure they had any real shared interest, Thomas was already clinging on to Patton. 

“I’m just trying to get a video done! It’s just a general about me thing and why I chose uni. I just need to have a sit down with myself, figure myself out and maybe come to a better understanding that we could all learn from,” Thomas said strongly, puffing out his chest with a plastic smile. 

“Well maybe they would know you if you’d post YouTube videos more often,” Roman snickered while Patton whooped, Thomas deflated with an embarrassed smile. 

“Hey I have posted! I’ve got two videos so far! That’s not bad for something I only started like two weeks ago.”

“Yeah but you’ve been stressing about it for every second of those two weeks. Plus, people don’t watch uni channels for the person. They just want to avoid going to the open days and find out about the campus,” Roman said while Logan frowned. 

“Wait, if all you’re looking to answer is general information about yourself then that’s easy! You just start with the basics. Introduce yourself,” Logan prompted.

“Well... I am Thomas Sanders. I go by he/him pronouns and am proudly gay. I’m taking English literature...” He trailed off. Feeling that same sense of dread and nothing slowly grip him again. Great, met these roommates only a week ago and he’s having a breakdown in front of them. 

“That’s a promising start! Topics like gender and romance can be a challenge in of themselves to figure out. You could try and answer some light hearted meaningless questions as well. Like... um, something like what’s your greatest fears?” Logan smiled as he twiddled his hands. 

“Oh! Rejection!” Roman gasped and clutched his chest while slowly sinking to his knees. 

“Spiders!” Patton shuddered.

“I always get nervous about the idea of what exactly is at the bottom of the ocean...” 

“Nope! Not doing that! I’m perfectly aware of my greatest fears. I know that’s fun and all, but I want to keep it fairly serious. Like, what are my flaws?” Thomas shrugged them all off, his shoulders tensing again. 

Logan now lit up completely. Pulling a notepad from nowhere (his pyjamas?), he flipped to a previous scribbled page and pointed out a checklist with a pen. “Oh we’re talking flaws. Well, I’ve noticed you procrastinate a lot! I mean, it’s only your first week... Lectures haven’t even started and you’re already behind. I mean why else would you be planning a video at one in the morning!” Logan panted as they spoke all in one breath but the determined shine in their eye refused to let them go without saying this. 

“Do you just... list all our flaws like that... or...” Roman mumbled.

“You can be pretty selfish with your food...” Patton looked away but his mischievous smile remained firm. 

“Really Patton? I’m like 90% sure that milk was expired!” Thomas huffed and threw his head back, his already scruffy hair whipping wildly. 

“Didn’t stop you from drinking from it...” Patton muttered again with his hands held out. As if Thomas couldn’t be sucking any more at university, it was only his first week and lessons hadn’t started yet! But here he was with flatmate drama, a breakdown at 1 in the morning and a growingly filthy flat. 

“You aren’t very adventurous either...” Roman interrupted before any room mate war was launched. He was hoping to at least get past the month mark before any wars. Not that that was saying much for him. 

“Okay, maybe this was a bad idea!” Thomas sighed and slumped back into his ball on top of the kitchen stall. Legs drawn up to his chest and head buried firmly. 

At that, all of the roommates froze. The kitchen seemed so much harsher without any of its lights on. If someone had closed the curtains then the only light would be the oven timer that was flashing the wrong time. They could all hear the faint slamming of doors and whoops from students outside. All of which were actually enjoying their fresher’s week and having fun outside. Patton felt a little mean for joking so much with him. Thomas was still a very new friend and he just criticised him when he clearly wasn’t doing good. Roman looked awkwardly around before busying himself by going to make toast while Logan kept fiddling away. Patton wished, not for the first time, that his parents were here. 

“Well, everyone has flaws. That’s what makes us human,” Patton smiled, hoping his tone made up for the weak childish message. 

“Of course. As long as you’re aware of them and working through them, then I’d even say that flaws are what keeps us improving and doing our best,” Logan happily took over. 

“Yeah! Plus, you have a lot of good in you.” 

“You value your friends above all else,” Roman butted in. It was awkward, but the eye contact and his gentle tone did a lot. Thomas found himself smiling on instinct. 

“You see the good in everyone!” Patton chirped, seemingly bursting from happiness before sending an expecting glance at Logan. Not that they needed it.

“You’re extremely passionate and stick through every project. I mean, look at this YouTube channel. You’ve committed to a project that you understood is difficult. You’re still powering through despite the adversity.”

“Well, that’s very nice, you guys,” Thomas replied, eyeing the clock as it ticked to half past. 

Thomas heaved a deep breath. The blank word document no longer seemed as intimidating but he could feel his standards tutting at the weak script he was thinking through. Yeah, this was all good stuff to talk about but how on earth was this going to connect with people. How was this going to even connect to university? 

“Oh but you should also talk more about why you are filming for the channel!” Patton squeaked, Thomas uncurled and looked on with a sceptical look, “I’m guessing you want this to be a bit more than an intro video. If you talk about why you’re running the channel then people will understand you and your content a lot better. Like, what positive impact did you hope to inevitably bring with this channel?” 

“Woah... Patton that was genuinely deep and exactly what I was lo-”

“Hey! We have the same glasses!” Patton suddenly lurched forward, pointing an accusing finger. Logan blinked sleepily.

“Yep...” 

“Okay well,” Thomas cleared his throat, “Being able to put out silly light hearted content into the world is kind of a good start, it makes me really happy to do that!” 

“Wait! This is supposed to be happy!” Roman gasped with the bread popping from the toaster soon after. Thomas wilted again under his withering gaze. 

“Just because the topic is serious, doesn’t mean the video has to be serious. I think I would’ve liked to watch a light hearted joking channel when I was looking at unis. Identity is a serious topic but I want to joke about it,” Thomas explained to the table, slowly drawing out of the crumbs a smiley face. Roman melted and turned back to his toast. 

“That’s easy! You don’t even need answers to make that video then. No one watching your videos knows who they are and if you’re making fun of yourself for not knowing, it shows that it’s kinda okay. Y’know to be unsure and stuff.”

“Self deprecating humour is very popular at the moment,” Logan reported. 

“Just as long as you don’t go too far with it! Make sure to keep it light hearted!” 

“Yeah...” Thomas had immediately perked up and starting clicking away at the keys. 

They all sat there for a couple of minutes. All of them taking pride in how quickly Thomas pulled himself together again. The words quickly filled the screen and Roman finally clicked on the light, despite all of them hissing tiredly. 

“See, you’ve got this,” Patton smiled once Thomas took another careful to pause to proof read. “You may not entirely know yourself yet but that’s okay. You know who you are at this moment, even if you just know you’re confused.”

“Yeah, I guess I do know myself better than I think,” Thomas laughed off. 

“Right, Tony?” Patton gasped with Roman and Logan whipping round. 

“Not my name.” Thomas didn’t flinch.

“Then what is it!” Patton collapsed on top of the table with a gritted guilt expression. 

“Thomas! I said it earlier in this conversation!” 

“It’s really late!” Patton winced, feeling extra guilty. 

“He does have a decent point, at the very least, I am going to sleep. Please try not to make much noise,” Logan waved before disappearing from the kitchen. 

Patton joined them shortly after while Roman and Thomas talked quietly. The project also sinking into his mind before he even realised. And now he has to make sure that Thomas even knows about proper lighting and ideal times of the day to record himself! Roman was already stealing his laptop to make amendments to the script while Thomas awkwardly laughed it off. 

[phantomphangphucker]

Legless On Maim Chap. 8: Crime And Time Makes Me Fine. NOT.

Danny messes with a cop, Lewis messes with a ghost, Vee messes with a Eddie, ClockWork messes with EVERYBODY. And while Danny loves ClockWork, he also thinks they’re an absolute bastard.

Danny gets awoken almost violently and promptly slips off the branch he had climbed up onto. Deciding to just stay laying on the ground groaning rather than deal with his friends; especially hearing them laughing at him.

“Now that’s some quality blackmail material”.

“Dude! Wow you were not kidding!”.

Danny just groans again as Tucker tosses a pair of pants over his face. Fine, he appreciates actually having pants now -even if they weren’t on him, at least not in the way he’d like them to be- but knowing his friends they were probably patterned embarrassingly. Blinking open his eyes and blowing air strong enough at them to make them float up into the air, effectively confirming a stupid pattern; fucking pink with hearts, motherfuckers. “Jerks”.

Sam smirks and puts a hand on her hip as Danny pushes himself to sit up, “courtesy of my folks' refusal to accept that I’m not their personal dress-up doll”.

Danny snorts, “you’d think they'd give you more heartfelt gifts for a change, instead of using the opportunity to try and make you have a fashionable change of heart”. Earning matching groans and making him smirk. Getting up and flipping them off while hopping to get the (very hideous)pj’s on.

Tucker points at him, “least your legs clearly work”.

“Tuck pal, I think I’d be having a fair few fucking crises if they didn’t”, patting the pants off before straightening up and gesturing exaggeratedly at his legs, “I’m having a crisis as it is. The fuck am I supposed to do with this? How the fuck am I supposed to explain this guys?!?”, gesturing even more wildly, “I. Have. Legs. Again. They were cut off, and now. They. Are. Back. Is there any section of the endless expanse of the Zone where I am not fucked”.

Tucker shrugs, “body paint? Sam is rich enough for an endless supply”. Sam glares at him, crosses her arms, and then uncrosses them just to smack him over the head, “I am not a walking wallet!”.

Danny points aggressively at Tucker, “my folks are not utterly blind, Tuck”, shrugging, “sure it’s a close thing, but still”, glaring, “and that will immediately fall apart as soon as they want to do a systems check or something. Heck! They haven’t even gotten the CyberSteps working yet. Meaning I still got to test prototypes, which is literally impossible to do with having freaking legs again!”.

Sam and Tucker share a look, Sam shaking her head, “you could just be honest? They were chill with a bloody ghost Core, Danny, I think they can handle legs”.

Danny glares, “Cores and ghostly tails are solid ecto-energy, not flesh and blood and bone. It’s not the same. That shit can, apparently, just be explained away by me having a somewhat awakened ghost. Legs, fleshy human legs, are not a ghost thing”.

Tucker shrugs, “could just pitch it as ghostly healing? Though yeah, you almost might as well just tell them everything at this point”.

Danny huffs, he had a point. Considering the sheer amount of ghostly weirdness his folks have just accepted at this point. But still, the whole ‘I’m half ghost! Surprise!’ was more than just being half ghost. It also meant admitting he was Phantom and had been hiding and lying for two whole years. It meant his parents facing the fact that their life's work was effectively responsible for killing their son. That they had spent years telling him to his face how much they really badly and painfully wanted to dissect and destroy him. That they actually had tortured him once and injured him on nearly a weekly bases. Then there was the fact that they saw him get tossed around, impaled, stabbed, lit on fire, gutted, decapitated, cut in half, electrocuted, maimed, shot, and other things he’s probably forgetting, pretty much every day; and they just watched and did nothing to help.

Sure he didn’t resent them for all of that, how could he? they didn’t know. But they would be crushed and hurt, that mattered. And that’s without even mentioning that he would effectively disprove most of their work. And yeah, they had made some headway recently and were finally recognising that created ghosts at least could be a thing. Maybe, just maybe, born ghosts too. Ancients, they were only just now starting to listen to him. Willing to face and accept that ghosts might not be the evil emotionless monsters they always thought they were. Is it so terrible that he'd like them to not hate ghosts before finding out that he was one???

Apparently the universe thought so.

But no, fuck it. He will take this secret fully to the grave before the universes crap -which the Observants probably played a role in because they hate him and want him to suffer- forces this secret to light. Fuck the universe and it’s bullshit. Groaning at the sky anyway, “you know, I always imagined it would be something crazy, utterly impossible, undeniably ghostly; that would bang me up in a life-changing way. Would force secrets to light. Not something so damn simple, so normal, so human; as a car crash”.

Both of them chuckle at him and move to pat at his shoulders. Tucker snorts, “I think it was more car ‘massacre’ than car ‘crash’”. Danny shoves him a little because people fucking died.

Sam shakes her head though, “you’re not going to tell them, are you?”.

Danny snorts and shakes his head a little; happily taking the slight distraction, “naw. Maybe someday, but that someday is not today. Fuck the universes shitty sense of comedic timing”, crossing his arms and glaring down at his legs. He can still feel the whole bandage booty shorts situation, embarrassing but fuck it. He’s going to make Lewis have to witness his shit. Even if it probably won’t make his eyeballs bleed, that guy has seen way too much weird shit to suffer mental ocular trauma from anything. But still.

Tucker and Sam exchange a Look before looking back to Danny and speaking in sync, “spite”.

Danny nods with a slight smirk, “is there ever a better reason?”.

Getting another in synch response, “not dying... further”. Danny waves them off like he couldn’t care less.

Sam shakes her head, “on a slightly serious note, what’s the plan?”.

Danny shrugs, “well should see if I even can still modify my ghostly body on a molecular level to turn solid limbs into a gas”.

Tucker snickers, “and like everything else about you, when you say it technically it sounds like some body horror shit”. Danny just finger-guns at him before going ghost and easily changing to his ghostly tail; promptly doing jazz hands.

Sam and Tucker nod, Tucker pointing at him, “well that solves that, dude”, continuing at Danny’s raised confused eyebrow, “Danny-dude, just do that half transformation thing and leave your lower half in ghost mode”.

Sam smirks and nods, turning to Tucker and talking like this has already been decided as the plan of attack, “then we can just wrap bandaging over his Phantom legs before he switches to a tail, getting the bandaged look”. Tucker hums his agreement.

Danny sticks his arms out to the side and looks almost offended, “do you know how hard half transforming is to maintain? There’s a reason I never do that shit for more than emergencies or quick jokes”.

Sam rolls her eyes at him, “deal with it”. Danny flips her off. Though really, not much of another option. Having a ghost tail in human form was drastically harder to have and maintain than half transforming.

Danny transforms his upper half back human because, eh why not? And he’s been gone for a while. Chuckling down at the black ghostly tail before smirking at his friends, “I’m three halves of a whole now. Half a body, half transformed, and half-ghost in two different ways. I don’t think anyone ever put this much effort into half-assing so many things. All because so much of me just keeps on dying. I’m a real die-hard you could say. Really killed any effort for a fully functioning life. My apparent partial lifelessness isn’t a real tear-jerker apparently, so maybe I should add some flavour and start halving onions”.

Tucker grabs Danny’s head and shoves him into the dirt; even if they’re all laughing a bit.

It takes a while before they all calm down, laying in the grass and staring up at the sky. Tucker being the first to speak up again, “so, hows it feel to be amongst the legged again?”.

Danny changes back fully human and crosses his ankles, “very leggy”, earning a round of snorts. Honestly, it was a bit weird. Especially feeling fabric over leg skin for the first time in days. He also has never been so aware over how much legs weigh. Sure his human form was always heavier than his ghost one, but wow legs weigh a lot. Well technically legs and pelvis. And it was also weird that having legs again felt weird; really it should feel like a return to normalcy, instead the leglessness had become like normalcy, Either it was really easy to get used to or he was one overall adaptable son of a corpse. It was probably the latter.

The three scrunch their faces up and groan in sync as it starts raining, lightly at first before suddenly coming down in a torrential downpour; resulting in them scrambling up. Danny transforming and grabbing them up, intangibly and invisibly flying them back to his house. Returning to the visible spectrum in his room.

Sam takes two steps before stepping in something definitely still wet and grimacing at Danny, “this is why we never take our shoes off”. Danny just shrugs her off while changing back human, feet planting on the ground with a little plop, and flopping face down onto his bed.

His friends following suit on top of him. Tucker muttering, “ow”, after basically smashing his forehead into Danny’s shoulder brace.

Danny snorts, “I’m not paying for your concussion treatment”.

Seconds later Jazz practically slams the door open, “finally, where have you been Danny???”. Managing to actually startle Danny (since his nose was blocked by his bed), who startles everyone else by pushing himself up so fast his braces make concerning cracking sounds and his very human legs suddenly becoming a ghostly tail; which completely off balances him and, combined with his momentum, sends him falling to the floor. Landing on his ass/tail base with a startled ‘oof’, just as Maddie sticks her head in the doorway.

Maddie blinks and looks slightly apologetic, assuming she startled him enough for him to mess up with the floating, “oh sorry sweetie, I came up to let you two, four now I guess, know that supper will be ready in half an hour”, then scrunching up her face and realising something’s not right here. Pointing at his tail, “why is It pink, and covered in hearts?”.

Danny has to physically bite his tongue to avoid gapping as he glances down at his tail. What the fuck. It has never been that easy in human form? And he wasn’t even having to maintain it? The fuck?

Sam comes to his rescue near-instantly though, “uh, we wanted to see what would happen if he tried putting normal clothing over It and It just kinda absorbed it”. Maddie can’t help but smile at that, kids will be kids.

Danny awkwardly adding, “and it’s not like the, uh, bandaging is a forever thing, and, uh, I don’t think It would, like, look very good flesh-coloured?”. He, in fact, knew It wouldn’t. His mom makes a face and nods while his friends snicker at him, the assholes.

Maddie tilts her head, a little curious how his tail even did that. This didn’t happen when he had apparently had a hoodie draped over It when he first came home? Maybe -what she’s just going to assume is a ‘gift’ from Pamela for Sam. She will never see eye to eye with that woman. Sure her and Jack did push the kids to be hunters, but they didn’t try to control their entire lives- the pants were fairly tight around his tail? She’d ask but considering he looks a little startled, she’s not going to press. Shaking her head, “well hopefully you can undo it, in case this happens with any clothing you actually care about”, frowning slightly, “I also hope this doesn’t interfere with Dan’s work”.

Danny blinks, still confused enough by his body to be unphased by the Dan name, “uh, yeah don’t wanna go giving him a heart attack”. Everyone shakes their heads.

Maddie electing to head back to the kitchen, “I’ll call when foods ready”, the door closing behind her.

Sam and Tucker look to Danny’s pink heart-covered tail then to his face, “Danny, what the Hell”.

Danny throws up his hands, “I panicked alright!”.

“Since when does your panic help anything?!?”.

“Since now apparently!”.

Jazz blinks, “I’m going to guess this-”, gesturing at Danny’s tail, “- wasn’t intentional”, putting her hands on her hips, “and Danny, you are lucky mom just waved me off to go check on you and stayed in the lab. You’ve been missing for hours. You know how they get". Her chastising earning some apologetic neck rubbing, before Danny emphatically gestures at his tail which suddenly pops into pj-covered legs. Making her jump a little, “oh! Your legs! They grew back!”, quickly moving to sit down on the floor and grab at one of his bare feet. Then glaring at him for suddenly changing back to his tail; leaving her grasping onto the tip of his tail.

Sam and Tucker both jerk a bit from the sudden change themselves, before falling over laughing loudly, the pink heart-covered look was still not flattering. Danny looking baffled doesn’t help either. Though he does eventually snort and start snickering before flopping to lay on the floor laughing with them; Jazz just shakes her head at the trio's antics.

Danny snickers, “I guess the hearts really felt my hearts deepest desires! Really trying to be lovable! Since I was just being a total bleeding-heart earlier!”.

Jazz audibly scowls and stands up, “on that painful note, I'm going to help mom. I’m assuming this leg issue was why you just up and disappeared”. Shaking her head when Sam adds in, “and he fell asleep. In a tree”.

Danny throws out his hands, still laying on the ground, “it’s comfy!”, while Jazz heads downstairs.

Sam eventually glances at the calmly waving tail before looking back to the ceiling, “guess your body got so used to the tail that it comes easier now?”.

Danny huffs, “no fucking clue”, shrugging, “but probably. I doubt I’d even change back automatically from tiredness or sleeping or injury. So you can have your heart back”, intentionally turning back to legs purely to phase off the pj’s dramatically by flinging them up into the air; easily changing back to a bandage-looking tail. This kinda solved his problem, he still had a tail. Easily and naturally so. And! he had legs too! The best two for one deal ever! Which fine, he was glad to have again. Even though it was straight crazy that he could regrow entire limbs. Half his body pretty much. Sure Lewis has ‘said’ they were regrowing but them actually regrowing was a whole-ass-nother thing.

The three watch the pj’s float down out of the air onto their faces, Danny snickering and speaking mockingly, “ahhhh. Heart attack”. Earning hard hits from his friends.

Tucker rolls his eyes, “you already used that one today, and are you just going to stick with a tail all the time now?”.

Danny shrugs noncommittally. The answer was probably yes, in human form anyway. His friends obviously can tell he’s basically come to that decision since they both hit him again, Sam snapping without much feeling, “you fucking idiot”; everyone falling back into silence after,

Danny contentedly winding his tail around their legs. Which fine, he had become more than a little fond of being able to do that and his tail in general. He has a feeling ClockWork would, and probably is, actively smirking over him just sticking to a ghostly tail; just like them. Which yes, only serves to encourage Danny.

(Off in the far off realm of the Ghost Zone, a couple Observants hand trinkets over to ClockWork; having lost various bets. ClockWork simply smirks, one would think they’d know better by now. But no, most of their egos were a smidge too large. But it was a quite enjoyable way to teach the Observants a lesson about the future not being set in stone... And that Daniel tended to take the uncommon (and thus unviewable to the Observants) route)

Danny eventually grunting and lifts up his thermos with his tail, “so Skulker wants to harass the doc for my scraps”.

Tucker snorts, “poor bastard, only just met you and he’s already got a ghostly pest”.

“Oh I don’t know Tuck, seems more like a fast way to put whether or not the friendly-ish sorta cannibal can eat things past their expiration date to the test”. Danny would kinda like to know if Vee could eat him or not. Sure a human definitely couldn’t, ectoplasm was toxic after all. But again, fucking aliens. And Lewis seemingly thinks Vee can eat fucking everything.

Sam pushes herself up to glare down at him, “I find it seriously hard to believe a cannibal is ‘friendly’”. Tucker snickers, “yeah, probably steal your scraps from doctor dude or Skulker for a snack”.

Danny waves his hand around as much as the braces will let him, “oh he’s clearly a real people person. If they wanted my scraps they coulda just shown up in the amputee ward, they’d have some real meals on wheels then”.

Sam smacks him over the head with a very disgusted scowl, “your mind is a fucking sin and that so-called ‘diet’ is even worse”.

Danny smirks, “well if they feel like repenting via a little taste of religion, I know a few annoying priests that show up every month or so”. Seriously, he could really do without those type thinking ghosts were demons, or that Phantom was the ‘anti-Christ’, or Amity was a displaced section of Hell, or that Phantom was the second coming of Christ. Outside of the mixed messages, it was also supremely annoying.

All three jerk a bit from a very loud yell from Tucker’s pocket, “Jesus fucking Christ no! We are not eating a fucking priest! I’m not that depraved!-hey don’t you-I liked that coffee pot, you fucker and now look at it? It’s on the fucking ground. No I am not going to just ‘go get it’, you’re the one that chucked it out the window-no don’t you fucking-!”, followed by some scratching, clattering sounds, and a loud thump.

The three sit up and Tucker cautiously pulls out his PDA and everyone just stares at it. Danny tilting his head, he’s heard that voice before. Poking the PDA with his tail, “huh, I think Eddie hacked your PDA”.

Tucker gives him a look of deep offence before looking back to the PDA in question at the sound of a very long string of swears, “I’m going to fucking strangle you, I fucking swear. Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck you. I’m going to eat nothing but fucking pickles and salad dressing tonight-bitch don’t tempt me or I’ll set it on fire before I eat it-oh my god you baby”, there’s a bit of stomping and a slamming door, followed by what the three are assuming is the sound of glass jars hitting each other, “see look at these fucking pickles!-oh fucking watch me-oh fuck! Gak. They’re fucking expired. Oh god shit. Why me?-shut up bitch”.

Danny and Tucker both bend over wheezing, PDA falling unceremoniously onto the bed. While Sam raises her eyebrows and asks sounding almost annoyed, “why is eating veggies a threat? What’s so hard about eating vegetables? Seriously, what’s the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?”.

Danny snaps his head to her, grins, and shouts, “the wheelchair!”. Sam shoves him off the bed shouting, “that’s horrible!”. Danny just lets himself land on the floor.

“Oh shit! The phone’s still on. Fuck-WHY WOULD A VEGETABLE HAVE A WHEELCHAIR-different kind of vegetable, Vee. Use fucking Google. Living impaired guy, or whatever, is talking about people-PEOPLE ARE NOT VEGETABLES EDDIE! THEY DO NOT GROW IN DIRT-Jesus, just use fucking google holy shit. And-wait a minute, Dead Guy are you seriously using a fucking PDA? No way you’re not old using a fucking PDA, what is this? the fucking nineties?”.

Tucker straightens up and points aggressively at his PDA, “hey! You take that back! You’re gonna hurt Lisa’s feelings! PDA’s are a gift upon us all!”, snatching his PDA off the bed and rubbing his face on it, “don't listen to him sweetie, a phone could never keep up with all your glorious curves and circuits”.

“What the fuck? Is that what I sound like when I say Vee’s better than humans?-YES. LIKE A DUMBASS-fuck you-MY DUMBASS”. Tucker jerks away from the mic and everyone makes disgusted horrified faces at the strange kinda wet sounds.

Sam grimaces deeper, “should we ask?”.

Danny chuckles slightly, “considering Lewis’s tendril comments. No”. He so doesn’t want to hear about that.

A bunch of coughing sounds through the mic, “why is Dan telling people about my se-”, get cut off by the three teens shrieking or shouting and Danny shoving a pillow over the PDA. “NO!”.

Danny peals back the pillow and growls a little, “dude there are minors here, we don’t wanna hear about that shit. Oh my Zone. And I thought Lewis had a near nonexistent filter”.

“Eh whatever. Wait, how many people am I even talking to?-THREE, EDDIE. THERE’S THREE VOICES-well maybe I would have been paying attention to that if someone hadn’t tossed me out a fucking window-PUSSY-bitch”.

Tucker starts wheezing again, muttering, “how does this guy maintain a conversation with anyone?”. Which yeah, Danny slightly agrees with that sentiment.

“Hey, fuck you. It’s my job to talk to people. I’m pretty fucking good at it-OVER HALF THE PEOPLE YOU TALK TO TRY TO KILL US, EDDIE-bitch I don’t see you complaining about that when you get a snack out of it”.

Tucker wheezes a little more, “how have you not been arrested?”, while Danny and Sam scowl at the PDA in disgust.

Danny points at Tucker, “their city apparently supports their people eating. It’s, like, common knowledge”, Sam turns her disgusted scowl to him.

“Debatable. I think the cops are just scared we’ll eat them-WHICH WE WILL-no! We do not eat cops! How many times have I said that?-STILL GOING TO EAT THEM-no we will not!-EDDIE-no!-WHAT ABOUT CHOCOLATE DIPPED?-Jesus fuck. No”.

Sam mock gags, “could we not talk about eating people with a vegetarian present?”.

Tucker gives her a pouty face, “awww come on, we’ve all got our tastes”.

Danny points at him, “usually not people-flavoured though”.

“Isn’t it just like chicken though?”.

“No. No it’s not-MUCH BETTER!-I don’t think you’re a good judge of that babe-I AM AN EXCELLENT JUDGE. KLYNTAR HAVE MANY MORE TASTE BUDS THAN YOU FLESH BAGS”.

Tucker scoffs and crosses his arms, Danny’s already preparing for him to say something stupid. “I’m the real meat conisure here, I’ll be the judge of that”.

“Kid, did you seriously just ask-WE HAVE A SPARE LIVER IF YOU'RE CURIOUS-where the fuck did that come from!?!? Where even was that?!?! What the fuck Vee!?!!?! How many times have I said we don’t do take-out!-NOT AGAINST THE RULES IF NO ONE NOTICES-oh my god. That is not how rules, or the law for that matter, works”.

Danny shoves Tucker, “Tuck, what did I say about asking for snacks? Zone dude. Now they’re gonna show up with a fucking liver in a suitcase and with my luck someone else is gonna find that and think I murdered someone”.

“Finally got another name, nice. And eh you’d be surprised how easy it is to hide murder and body parts. And how much cops are willing to ignore”.

Sam snorts, “smooth spooky”.

Danny blushes a little, whoops, “you have no idea how bad my luck is”.

“Speaking of spooky, figured that echoey voice crap would sound way more fucked over the phone. You don’t even seem to have an echo. And blame whoever has the PDA, do you just not expect anyone to back-hack you? Sure that was some hard shit and I can’t access shit-”, Tucker beams very smugly at this, “-but you hacked me first. What was even the point of that? Even basic research makes it obvious dead guy is based in Amity Park. And you did that just to tell me I got your age wrong-HE’S MORE PETTY THAN YOU EDDIE-that is not a compliment”.

Danny smirks and transforms purely for his ghostly echoing voice, his friends rolling their eyes knowing exactly what he’s doing. Sam speaks almost dryly, “if anything ever gets spooky over here destroyed, it’ll be his sense of humour”.

Danny chuckles deeply, voice reverberating intentionally creepily, “it’ll be the death of me, seeing as I have killer timing”, waving his hand around, “and us spookies are petty creatures. We wear petty like it’s all that makes us pretty”.

“Huh, so you definitely can change your voice. Congrats Vee, your voice isn’t the only one that sounds ridiculously fucking demonic-APPROVE. FAR MORE THREATENING. LIKE A PREDATOR-I don’t think that counts as a compliment either babe-HE HUNTS HIS OWN! IT IS A COMPLIMENT!-eh, I guess? What’s up with that anyway, dead guy?-HE’S A PREDATOR, PREDATORS FIGHT, EDDIE. OBVIOUSLY-says the big bad predator who’d rather become one with the couch in a sea of chocolate wrappers and watch Alton Brown make people suffer-THEY DESERVE TO WEAR FLIPPERS AND ARM SPREADERS FOR BURNING THE LAMB!”.

Tucker nods his head a little, “yeah, burning lamb should be a crime”, while a little buzzing sound comes through the mic.

Danny rolls his eyes at him, “that’s the guy from Cut Throat Kitchen isn’t it? Doesn’t he buy stuff from BDSM stores for those challenges”. Tucker nods with a smirk, “and that’s kinky”, and gets smacked over the head by Sam.

Danny shakes his head and leans over the PDA, “I’m a protective fellow, I beat up ghosties to protect. Ya know, the typical hero schtick, but with death. It’s a real grim job, but I absolutely reap the rewards”, looking to Sam and Tucker, “one day I’m gonna cash in all these trauma points for a fucking yacht”.

Tucker quirks an eyebrow, “why a yacht?”. Sam adding, “you know I’ve got one. They’re okay”.

“One of you has a fucking yacht?!? Anne warned me I’d be out of my depth but holy fuck-NOT HARD WHEN YOU’RE PUSSY MADE-how the fuck do you know that term?!? And just eat your fucking tater tots”.

Danny snorts, “someone’s a real tater thot”, looking at Tucker, “one, because that’s one thing Frootloop doesn’t own”.

“Fair”.

“Wow you are really petty as shit”.

Danny scowls at the PDA, “dude fucking nearly caused the apocalypse, like, four bloody times”, rolling his hand, “and there’s the whole sorta have a daughter, or cousin, or sister, eh it changes; ‘cause of his cloning stunt-”.

Danny doesn’t get to continue as Vee butts in with, “WE’RE SPAWNING ASWELL-what, fucking what? What the fuck do you mean ‘spawning’? No you so do not get to hide in my body after that shit, get the fuck out here bitch. Oh my fuck, what the fuck. This is what Anne means by fucking communication issues. What the fuck you fuck. Jesus fucking Christ. What the fucking shit. That is not how you tell anyone anything, you fuck. Now I want a yacht to sail away from fucking everything and become a fucking pirate. Your oily ass will love that so much because there will be so many lobsters to shove up everyone's collective assholes but especially yours-SAME ASSHOLE SO GO AHEAD BITCH, THAT WOULD BE DELICIOUS-ha! Tricked you with the old lobster summoning, now the fuck do you mean spawning!-”

Tucker whispers, “Zone these guys have so many issues”. Sam and Danny just nod, not wanting to interrupt this because it is, frankly, hilarious.

“IT IS NATURAL EDDIE-I sure fucking hope so, otherwise we’ve got a fair few fucking problems going on-THEN STOP BEING A PUSSY WET BITCH-where do you learn this shit? Fucking fourchan? And excuse me for being an emotional asshole, asshole. I think I’ve fucking earned it considering-”.

All three teens turn their heads as Valerie flies in through the window and deactivates her board at seeing them sitting around a PDA but giving it a wide berth.

“-I’m apparently fucking pregnant!”.

Valerie blinks as her suit deactivates, “what have I just walked in on”. It sounds more like a cautious statement than a question.

Danny points at her, “technically, you flew”, she glares at him while he continues, “Eddie’s having some... issues, apparently”.

“‘Some’?”.

“Oh fuck the phones still on. You heard all of that didn’t you? Fuck-DUMBASS-fuck you, this is your fault. I need a fucking drink”.

Danny chuckles and smirks a bit meanly, “yes, yes we did”.

Valerie shakes her head and speaks down at the PDA, “are you okay?”.

“No”, Eddie promptly hanging up.

Valerie watching the other teens descend into fits of laughter for a bit before asking, “what did I miss?”.

Tucker wheezes, “probably one of the best random meltdowns ever”, smacking Danny’s arm braces, “you should probably warn doctor dude you gave his friend an accidental crises!”.

Danny just chuckles, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone swear that much that quickly. And considering he’s somewhat friends-ish with Johnny, that’s saying something. Pointing at Tucker, “for the love of all the Ancients, tell me you recorded that. Because, by the Realms, that was glorious”. He also totally wants to show Johnny, and Skulker actually, maybe Ember and Kitty; they’d be fucking impressed honestly. Possibly Pandora too, if only for Eddie just straight up going feral rage mode for a bit there.

Tucker nods eagerly with a wide smirk, instantly being granted a high five; even getting one from Sam.

As his mom calls that supper’s ready, Danny pulls out his phone; because he is not calling Lewis while he might be having special time with the bone saw.

DPain: so stormed Area 51 might being having a mild melt down bout being pregnant

DPain: and it might

DPain: possibly

DPain: maybe

DPain: be my fault

Tucker chokes next to him, “dude, you do realise how that sounds right?”. Making Danny facepalm as the four (not three like Maddie was expecting, but she just sets another plate with a smile and head shake) sit at the table; Danny checking his phone when it goes off.

Tiethief: so you’re why I have 11 new voicemails

DPain: 😇

Danny barely gets through his (very mushy, fuck you Jazz) mashed potatoes before there’s a knock on the door. It’s not a scent Danny recognises so he tears off Tucker’s hoodie to cover his tail up. Rolling his eyes at the guy’s scowl, Danny would just blink his tail out of the visible spectrum if his not-in-the-know parents weren’t around. While one of said parents, his mom who hadn’t even sat down yet, gets the door.

“Hello Mrs. Fenton, I’m officer Jared Walker”, the four teens -and Jazz- all choke at that last name and share ‘seriously? Why is this our lives?’ Looks. “I’m here to conduct a welfare check for Daniel Fenton. May I come in?”.

Danny cringes, this probably wasn’t a good thing. FentonWorks wasn’t exactly... safe. Oh who was he kidding? FentonWorks was a mind field of danger and death; and not just ‘cause his dead ass was here. And what if he wants to check out his room? Oh Ancients he absolutely is going to want to check that out. Fuck.

Sam and Tucker obviously have the same worries as they finish their plates and start to move towards the stairs; probably to make a mad dash to his room to make it not look like a probable biohazard.

While his mom obviously lets the guy in, would arguably be worse not to, “sure thing, Danny’s at the table having lunch, his doctor’s doing a final shift at the hospital right now though. You could come back later to talk to him? Or would you like me to call him?”.

Jared steps in and looks at the two teens starting to head up the stairs and then to Valerie, “I’m sure you’d like to hang out with your friend and make sure he’s well, but I’ll have to ask you to leave”, tilting his head not unkindly, “this is a family matter; you understand”.

The three teens obey, because this is a cop for fucks sake; and they like to at least pretend to be proper law-abiding citizens. Sam and Tucker shooting him apologetic looks and Valerie giving him a little forehead kiss as they leave. Danny makes a damn point to make sure his smile doesn’t look painfully nervous.

Jared looks back to Maddie, “that’s quite alright, I’m sure I could get into contact if I need to”. Jazz offers him tea which he declines, “do you think you could go to your room, Jasmine? I’d like to speak with your parents and brother alone if that’s alright?”.

She nods, ruffling Danny’s hair up as she stands, which he of course scowls at and swats her hand away. Even if that, like usual, only accomplishes making her grin at him. Jazz completely ignores Danny’s bedroom door, knowing Jared would likely notice if she tried to go in.

(Sam and Tucker outside both decide that trying to sneak into at least clean Danny’s room wasn’t the best idea. Seeing as they had Valerie as a tag along and there was another cop sitting out in the police cruiser on the curb. Plus, cleaning Danny’s room would take a goddamn while and would be, frankly, disgusting to do. So they just hope Danny’s got something up under his spooky sleeves)

Jared joins the Fenton parents in sitting at the table, sending a smile to Danny, “you doing well today?”.

Danny gives an awkward nod and knocks his hand brace against his chest brace, “I’ll be better once I’m rid of these stupid things”, making the officer chuckle.

“That’ll hopefully be sooner rather than later”, turning to the parents’, “I'm just here to see how things are going, what sort of accommodations have been made or are being made, the state of the house, how school work’s being handled, and to speak with Daniel privately. Standard procedure”.

Jack beams, ever eager to brag about inventions, “we had a hover cushion built for him before he got home! So he’d have a way to get around right off the bat!”.

Danny grumbles at the cop, “I don’t like being carried or pushed around”, which was something of an understatement; his ghostly pride could only take so much of that. And that ‘so much’ was very little, ah the joys of being powerful. Made being ‘weak’ all the more bloody fucking awful. Maddie adds in with a warm smile at Danny, “we did order a wheelchair though”.

Jared looks pleased at this and notes everything down, “hospital approved? And could I see this... hover cushion?”.

Jack jumps up and gives Danny a curious raised eyebrow, “bedroom, next to the door, dad”, Jack nods curtly and bounds up the steps.

Jared raises an eyebrow at Danny, “any particular reason it’s not down here with you?”.

Danny blinks, oh because he wanted to get around on his freaking tail and doesn’t need no damn help to get around. He can’t tell this random cop that though. The tail is abso-fucking-lutely staying a secret if he can help it, “uh, it’s pretty snug and Doc said I should let things breathe here and there”, that’s utter bullshit, but probably accurate for normal amputation wounds. Realising he should probably explain how the Zone he got downstairs without it, “and there’s a pretty big difference between friends and family carrying me and, uh-”, blushing a bit both genuinely and to sell the lie, “-the girlfriend carrying me”.

Jared grins to himself at that, “ah yes, that is pretty different. She handling this well?”.

Danny nods and smiles, she was handling it about as well as most people would; maybe a little better. Him seemingly giving very little of a damn about his ‘leglessness’ probably helped slightly. After all, she did decide to give the whole ‘them’ thing a shot again. Jack comes back with the hover-cushion before he can even attempt to tell the guy any of that.

Jack shows off the device and powers it up, show that it does, in fact, work. Jared blinks and grins, “I’ll admit, I’m impressed”, and makes some more notes in his book, “it alright if I take pictures? Purely for documentation purposes. And the wheelchair?”.

Maddie nods, giving him the go-ahead, while moving to grab up her copy of the documentation for the ridiculous wheelchair Danny ordered and handing that over. “It’s not hospital approved but Dan said it would be fine, he was here when we ordered it”.

Jared nods acceptingly -obviously aware of who Danny’s doctor was- and tilts his head a little, “expensive, you footing the cost if the hospital can’t cover it? This isn’t a standard type either, athletic wheelchair?”.

Danny nods and grins almost meanly, “have you seen Amity?”, should he be sassing a cop? No, probably not. Jared nods a little, while Maddie speaks up, “we can cover the whole bill if needed. So long as Danny’s happy”. Jared nods and smiles at that.

“Alright, I’d ask if there’s been modifications to the stairs but you’ve found a different suitable workaround. Same with if everything has been moved to be in reach”, nodding at his notebook before looking back to them, “so how about schooling?”.

Danny rubs his neck awkwardly, “I’m working on the catchup and homework, uh, keyword being ‘working’”. Jared chuckles at that, typical teen behaviour.

Maddie pats Danny’s head, “Jazz made sure to talk with all his teachers. She’s friends with most of them. Sam and Tucker brought his work home for him”.

Jared raises an eyebrow at that, “and what about you?”. Jack laughs a bit loudly before rubbing his neck, “ah, the school prefers we don’t come unless we have to. We tend to break things”.

Danny’s pretty sure that’s a mark against his parents’ in the cops' book. So he tries to save face a little, “ghost hunting is a pretty destructive job”, he would know. Jared seems to think on that for a beat before nodding.

From what Jared’s heard and seen, ghost hunters were effectively cops here but for ghosts; which were much more dangerous than the average human criminal. He’s not about to fault them for their career. Schools didn’t particularly like cops showing up either, makes people on edge usually. And considering the school turned out to actually be a hot spot for ghosts, ghost hunters showing up out of the blue would absolutely cause at least a little panic.

Jack laughs a bit more, “plus! Frees us up to work more on the CyberSteps!”. Jared quirks an eyebrow at that so Maddie elaborates, “robotic prosthetic legs. Dan’s been helping as well”. Jack grins wide, “yup! Got to make sure they’re perfect!”.

Jared blinks, “you are... making your own prosthetics?”. Danny immediately blurts out, “walked on a prototype already. Not, um, quite good yet”, adding because holy shit he knows this is probably all kinds of illegal, Lewis kinda said so, “doc was there”. He’s going to get Lewis in trouble at this rate. He should probably shut up. Shutting up wasn’t one of his notable skills though.

Jared nods, “so you were... under certified medical care?”. Danny just nods, his folks nodding too. Jared notes that down as well.

Jared is pretty sure there isn’t much to worry about at this point. Bad or abusive parents wouldn’t go to the lengths of creating break through technology. And they were obviously putting the boy first, making him comfortable and happy. But that still didn’t explain certain things and that didn’t mean the house was suitable. From what he’s seen so far the house was... acceptable. Little messy and... odd. There were certainly some strange stains, burns, damages, and technological bits lying around. Certainly unacceptable for a small child, but Daniel was a teen.

Nodding to himself, “I think that covers that. I’d like to look around now”, with that the Fenton parents’ get up. Jared watches the teen easily manoeuvre into the hover cushion contraption, does a little spin in the air, and sends him an awkward smile. Daniel then squints at him and tilts his head, “Jared Walker... as in J. Walker, like jaywalker”, and starts snickering.

Jared rolls his eyes with a smile, “laugh it up kid”, that just makes the teen smirk.

Most of the first floor is marginally normal, acceptable, when Jack very enthusiastically points out the weapons vault though, “is this secure? And this is just for anti-ghost weapons correct?”.

Maddie nods immediately, she could see how a cop might have a few issues with this, “designed to be secure, from both humans and ghosts. Ecto-Fiber glass and sheets block them from getting in intangibly”. Danny mentally grumbles, because he had found that out the hard way and it had been inconvenient on more than one occasion. Jared just nods as they head down to the lab.

Jared glances around before raising a slightly disbelieving eyebrow at the parents’, the amount of hazards here were, honestly, uncountable. Bits of metal (some being very sharp), wiring, chemicals, samples, weapons, glowing... stuff, and the leg creation things.

Jack laughs, “yeah, it can be a bit of a mess! The kiddos are well versed in lab safety though!”. Danny resists pointing out that he usually cleaned the place. That probably wouldn’t win any brownie points.

Jared blinks and gives a rather disbelievingly, “uh-huh”, before responding in genuine, “is this the normal condition of things? And what about supervision while anyone’s down here? It is more than likely Daniel here will be a bit clumsy for a while”, this was unsafe in so many ways.

Maddie ruffles Danny’s hair as he grumbles incoherently and blushes, “Danny’s rather clumsy normally”.

Danny adding, “school still won’t let me handle fragiles”, even though he was much better, fuck you very much. Jared looks just a little unimpressed, he was probably trying to not show the fact that he was not impressed. Which Danny thinks is fair.

Maddie continues, “but yes this is how things usually are. This is the one place where we have a camera system, so it’s pretty secure and we can see if anything’s going on whether we’re home or not. We didn’t allow the kids down here when they were young, and they had to have one of us with them until they could show they knew what they were doing”. Jack butting eagerly, “a family of inventors invent together!”, shrugging, “or at least are all involved in the process”.

Danny looks around awkwardly, well aware that he at least partly died because of crappy lab safety on everyone's part. Jared notes somethings and glances at Danny but says nothing.

What then follows is Jared basically getting the lab tour, asking about nearly everything and taking notes. Eventually coming to the portal, always the last thing his folks showed off since it was their pride and joy, “and this?”.

Danny gives the blunt answer of, “ghost portal”, because screw him, screwing with people was fun. Jared gives him a Look, which Danny can’t help smirking at, before looking to his parents and raising an eyebrow.

Jack laughs and smacks the frame, “yup! This baby opens up right into the spookies backyard!”. Maddie grins and adds, “we use it mostly for research purposes, to return captured ghosts, and as a warning system in case of invasions”, then speaking a bit sternly, “going inside it is strictly forbidden and it has a genetic lock”. Danny tries to make it look like he wasn’t paying attention, seeing as he went through those doors almost more often than his front doors.

Jared still looks rather disbelieving, “you have a portal to another dimension in your basement?”, shaking his head a little, “I mean, I’m glad it has a strong lock. Do ghosts ever come through?”.

Maddie shakes her head a little, “we have used things to pull ghosts through intentionally. Research you know. But as for them coming through on their own? No”. Danny has to bite his tongue to avoid snorting at that, his folks were insanely oblivious. The portal was literally the main entryway into his home. He’s pretty sure the only ones who don’t almost always use it are Skulker and the Box Ghost. Well, and most animal ghosts.

Jared takes that answer for what it is and wonders how the Hell you're supposed to rate ‘has a portal to the dimension of the dead under his bedroom’ on literally any safety scale. He’d say this is something that should be in a government facility but the G.I.W. approval rate was abysmal. And with good reason based on basic research. But side-eyeing the teen, he seemed to give the portal a look of fondness actually... and annoyance; but fond annoyance. So he does make a point to mark down that the kid seemed to like the thing, for whatever forsaken reason.

Jared taps his pen on his notebook, “alright, is there any other rooms other than bedrooms?”.

Danny does the dumb thing and blurts out, “well, there’s the torture dungeon”, making the guy give a very satisfactory choke.

Maddie shakes her head at Danny fondly before looking to the officer, “something’s down there are on the medieval side”. Jack just chuckles, “the stockades are more for storage and old school equipment”.

Danny mumbling, “you mean like the Iron Maiden and other instruments of extreme pain and suffering?”, which Jared thankfully doesn’t hear.

Maddie smiles, “our family have been hunters for generations, so we’ve inherited older tools of the trade”, shrugging, “some that work, some that definitely don't. Family heirlooms really”. Jared nods at that, anything medieval could come off as ‘torture devices’ and he’s starting to get the feeling this teen has a serious sense of humour and likes startling people. Arguably this seemed on par with people keeping their ancestors' old weapons. Meant for ghosts or not.

“Alright, so just the bedroom now. Don’t worry, I only need to see his”, and smiles, totally missing Danny muttering, “and that’s not a good thing”. Jared continuing, “just one more question, regarding the family profession actually. Does Daniel hunt as well? With you? If not, are you training him to? If so, how are you taking into account his disability and healing?”.

Jack scratches his head, “eh, Danny-boy’s not particularly interested in ghost hunting. He is pretty good with tech though! Like every Fenton!”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “so no, they aren’t having me running, or floating, around with guns, shooting sentient beings for sport or science”, and he’s not going to mention his dad sorta trying to get him into weaponised prosthetics. Danny’s pretty sure effectively -literally really- attaching guns and knives and stuff to your kids robo-legs would be a big no-no. Especially to an out-of-town cop.

Maddie smiles and pats his head, “and if he wants combat training, survival training, or anything else of the kind, he can simply ask. I’m trained in a lot of different areas”.

Jared nods at that, “everyone could benefit from that. Good that you’re not forcing it though”, scribbling down a bit more before closing the notebook and tucking it away, “alright, I think I’ve got a good picture of how things are”, sending the parents a slight smile before looking to Danny, “now you feel up to giving this old man the bedroom tour? I’m certain you, like most teens, know it better than your parents do”. Jared absolutely mentally notes that while everyone laughs at that, Danny’s laugh is a little awkward and nervous; he probably had somethings in there he’d rather his parents not know about. He can’t help smirking slightly at that, ah teens. Danny just glares and gestures towards the steps, everyone heading up.

Jared nods at the parents’ as they sit at the table while he heads up to the bedrooms after Danny.

Maddie sitting down with a sigh. Jack speaking up after the two are out of sight, “think he’ll be okay?”. Maddie rubs her eyes, she’s pretty sure them not getting a call about the visit meant there was something else going on, “I don’t know Jack, I’m just a bit worried what Danny’ll say, what he’ll be asked”, looking to her husband, “our house and family isn’t exactly normal or particularly safe, Jack”, biting her lip slightly, “many people might think any child, especially a... disabled one, would be better off somewhere else”. Because at the end of the day, Danny was disabled now, CyberSteps or not. And he had been through what was arguably a traumatic event, he seemed fine but still; she’s sure Jazz was keeping a very close eye on him for that very reason. Most people would want a disabled possibly traumatised injured kid in a safe, sturdy, structured, adaptable, loving home and family. Her family had the last two in spades, but the rest? She be kidding herself if she even tried to think their household was ‘safe’ or ‘structured’. She forgot to get him supper till one a.m. for peat's sake! Not to mention actively and repeatedly testing out prototypes on him. Sure there wasn’t another option but still. Even ignoring that, things in the house often reacted to him; usually seemed harmless but not always.

But at the same time, what family or house could even understand or attempt to support someone like Danny? With his ectoplasm, ghostly tail, and Core? She’s pretty sure Dan was an extreme outlier in being totally unphased by those things, especially being from out of town. And like Dan, her and Jack were doctors. Sure it was in a different way and different fields, but they were effectively Danny’s doctors for his more... ghostly things. If anything Danny needed to be here, with his family, more than most teens needed to be with theirs.

Jack moves to rub her shoulders, “he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid, Mads. And I’m sure the officer will see that -while weird and unconventional- he’s good here”.

Meanwhile upstairs Danny is hovering over his bed looking more than a little awkward and Jared is glancing around the room in shock. Jared blinks and scrunches up his nose, “kid, this smells worse than the morgue when the ac breaks”, lifting up his foot and putting it back down cautiously, making a faint squelching sound, “you know I’m gonna need an explanation for this”. There’s no pussyfooting around this, this is worse than literally every crime scene he’s ever been to. And he’s based from New York, so that should be saying something.

Danny chuckles and it’s extremely awkward, “yeah, uh, this probably ain’t gonna win me any points, but I like to joke that my room could make a crime scene investigator cry and the cleanup crew quit outright”, shrugging, “I have been meaning to clean, but uh, it doesn’t really bother me”.

“Kid, that ain’t normal. And that also doesn’t answer how this happened”. Jared is seriously hoping he isn’t dealing with some killer kid situation. Those were awful.

Danny rubs his neck, not entirely sure there’s any way out of this, he pretty actively screwed himself here, “uh, besides me not being very clean being a factor, you’re probably standing in a cesspool of pop, coffee, energy drinks, some cleaning solution stuff from when I actually mildly attempted to clean and just dumped it on the floor and shoved it around with my foot, probably some decomposed food, ectoplasm, and yeah, uh, blood”, then wincing slightly, because yeah, not impressing mr. Cop.

Jared glances to the floor, blinks, and looks back to the teen. Teens were lazy sure, but this was something else. This was beyond unsanitary, this was a downright biohazard and completely unliveable. And he might know the what, but the why? Heck, even the how. For the carpet alone to be this soaked, “whose blood. And the ectoplasm? Kid, for your floor to be this soaked you’d have to have dumped literal bucket loads of liquids on it. Bucket loads”. And watches the teen actively wince, obviously aware of this fact.

Danny looks around, actively avoiding eye contact, “I mean, you’re not wrong. My room’s kinda the ‘hang out’ spot, I guess, for me and my friends. So it’s not strictly my mess”, shrugging, “Tuck’s probably left a fair amount of meat scraps around and I’m pretty sure Sam’s trying to grow a rare fungus in one corner”. Valerie’s probably left a gun or two around too, but he’s not going to mention that.

“Kid, you have got to be kidding me. I know Amity is strange, but this is a little beyond”.

Danny shrugs again, looking back to the guy, “sorry pal, I’m probably certifiably the strangest kid in the entire town. Me and my friends are literally known as the weirdo trio. Sometimes the defect quartet when Val’s with us”, smirking a little to himself and knowing Sam will love him for this, “we are the weirdos mister”, and grinning cheekily.

Jared blinks very slowly, this teen just quoted a movie at him in response to him pointing out this was insane and that this floor was a biohazard. He blinks again and elects to just... ignore that, “still waiting on that ‘why’ for the... floor”.

Danny chuckles a bit meanly at the freaked cop before shaking his head a bit aggressively and looking around awkwardly, “ah, uh, it’s mostly, ah, mine? Which yeah I know is probably, like, super concerning. But it’s fine”, no point even trying to lie here, because a bloody fucking cop absolutely could just sample his floor and test it for, well, everything. And if he could avoid Tucker having to hack the fucking cops any more than he already did, by being just slightly honest. Then that’s what he’s gonna do.

Jared blinks again, arms slack at his side, before walking over and sitting down next to the teen on the bed. Daniel following suit by letting the hover thing float down to ‘sit’ him on the bed; this kid could read people at least a little, “buckets of blood is not ‘fine’, Daniel. And the ectoplasm?”, readjusting slightly, “honesty for honesty?”, something tells him this particular teen was well versed in dishonesty, “the main reason I was sent here is because of some things the first responders and nurses noticed. Namely, that you have a lot of... scarring. Unusual scarring. Does that have anything to do with the state of your floor?”, he’s making a point to try and be gentle here. This officially looked less ‘killer kid’ more ‘battered kid’.

Danny resists muttering ‘ah fuck, Ancients goddamnit’ out loud; talk about suspicious. He knew one day his scars were going to come and bite him in the ass. What is he supposed to say here? Obviously not the truth. Just ‘oh hey random cop dude, I fight ghosts totally not on the down-low but also technically on the down-low because it’s, like, a super-secret. Y’ know, like most superheroes. And ghosts are, like, totally really into maiming me. Also I’m kinda sorta a little bit kinda dead. So there’s that. My parents and girlfriend also shoot me sometimes, but you totally won’t report that to CPS, right?’. Alright, activate secret protection tactic three; sass and annoy ‘till they leave you the Zone alone. Ancients give him strength, “well first, I really do prefer Danny. I’m totally fine, cool as a cucumber or whatever. And welcome to Amity pal, people get hurt here a bloody lot. Couple abductions here and there, the occasional light stabbing; y’ know the usual. I get that you’re from outta town but that near non-existent crime rate means nothing”, shrugging and leaning back on his elbows, “and yeah the ecto’s mine too, so what I’m a little spooky? Not everyone’s full-blooded legged humans you know”.

Jared practically flinches back from the sudden change in behaviour. So that’s a check on him being defensive of his scarring. But there was no mention of his parents anywhere there, not to defend them or even to try and claim it wasn’t their fault. So, it’s probable his parents aren’t at fault here. Obviously something was going on, had to be for him to have more scarring than war vets. ‘Nearly more scars than flesh’ they had said. Though oddly his doctor had said nothing on the matter, even said the kid was fine; and he definitely did not report the state of the kids bedroom, which definitely deserved reporting. Furrowing his eyebrows at the kid, who doesn’t drop the ‘insufferable teen who just wants to be left alone and thinks you can shove it’ act for the previous nervous cautious behaviour. The doctor probably knew whatever was going on, or was very corrupt and seriously didn’t give a damn, “does your doctor know the reason behind the scarring?”, thinking on what Danny said, “and you have ectoplasm?”, that... that was a new one.

Danny huffs and rolls his eyes, his ecto-contamination was at least somewhat public knowledge in Amity. Dude would hear about it sooner or later, “yeah? So what?”, scowling a little at the cop, “don’t be givin’ doc shit, he’s cool. Knows when shit doesn’t need no reporting, shouldn’t be reported or recorded. I’m fine. My ‘situation’ or whatever, is fine. Perfectly peachy. Just stellar. We done here?”. Danny is probably not earning any good karma points here.

Jared blinks, okay, protecting his doctor was definitely not typical abuse victim behaviour. So definitely not the parents’ fault then. He seemed to be blaming Amity itself or the ghost issue instead. Which yes, this town was insanely dangerous and a lot of people -kids included- had scarring; but not to that degree. Maybe he got targeted more because of being related to hunters? Mentally pausing, or maybe he was a hunter and his parents -for some asinine reason- didn’t know? But then again, he said he wasn’t ‘shooting sentient beings for sport’ so maybe there was a conflict in ideals? Maybe he disagreed with his parents so he didn’t want them involved or putting in their two cents? That was fairly common in the force and other departments. But he was also implying that reporting this in any way -not just to his parents- was bad. So maybe something else was going on, or was he referring to having ectoplasm in his body. There were too many variables here, “that depends. Are you in any danger? You need to give me something here kid, Danny. ‘Cause right now your ‘situation’ seems decidedly not fine. Especially since you clearly get hurt a lot yet have an almost impressively sparse medical file”.

Danny huffs some more and rolls his eyes, okay, this wasn’t exactly... working, “I'm fine. I’m just a little ecto and Amity’s just a little dangerous”, sighing, “so no, I’m not in danger. In the past or now”. ‘But I fucking will be if you chase my shit’ being left unsaid.

“And in the future?”.

Danny levels the guy with a serious steely expression and puts just a tiny hint of power into his voice, tail coiling around invisibly, “I will be if you don’t butt out”, maybe warning the dude will get him to fuck off with this?

Jared blinks and nods, not entirely feeling like he’s actually talking to a minor here; which said a lot, “from?”.

Danny scowls, “not my family. Or friends. Or the doc. Or ghosts, for that matter”, Ancients dude, would you just drop it already?

“That doesn’t leave a lot of possibilities”.

Making Danny glare, “not your business”. Jared sighs and shakes his head a little, “it rather is. It’s my call what happens here, doctor turning the cheek or not”.

Danny scowls at him again, growling slightly because he is honestly getting frustrated here, “a little bit ecto, in the eyes of the government, equals a lot bit not deserving of human rights. And thus a very nice easily findable Christmas wrapped subject for some really nasty things I’d rather not experience”.

Jared blinks a few times, that was... not what he was expecting. But that would explain not wanting things reported, never going to hospitals, not wanting people to look into things, the doctor getting him out of the hospital abnormally quick and coming along, etcetera. Thinking of that, didn’t one of the secretary’s mention government agents showing up? Alright, so this kid was being testy for good reasons. Being defensive to literally defend himself... from his own government. Alright, the best thing he can do for the kid was to do nothing. To fudge his notes and report. Leave in the general weirdness but nothing that would encourage further investigating. This situation was officially way beyond his pay grade. Still though, his priority here was the kid's safety and welfare; not whether or not the government? knew he was ‘a little bit ecto’? “Alright then. Legally I should absolutely report this-”. He doesn’t even get to finish as Danny cuts in with an actual snarl, “and doc shoulda absolutely dragged me back to the hospital, your fucking point?”.

“Jesus kid, I’m trying to extend an olive branch here”, Jared shakes his head when all the teen does is huff, “I’m not saying I’m going to. The governments slightly dangerous opinions and interests in ghost stuff ain’t in my salary”.

Danny tilts his head and watches the guy for a beat, he seemed honest enough, “so you’re not going to mention my ecto-contamination, questionably bio-hazardous room, battered body, or being overly self-sufficient?”. Talk about dodging one Hell of fucking bullet. Holy Shit.

Jared blinks, okay this kid knew exactly what was up with his stuff. “I should, but I think I’m going to opt-out of doing that. Seems like that would do more harm than good”, leaning forwards a bit, “but when you say self-sufficient...”.

Danny rolls his eyes but relaxes some and lays back on his bed, he’s keeping his damn tail invisible and whatnot though, “put it this way man, Lewis thinks I’m a better surgeon than his lackies and I make a mean lasagna that doesn’t randomly gain sentience and try to stab people with knives”.

“Alright, I shouldn’t have asked”, his scars were self-treated, that... that is entirely unacceptable. And he’s just not going to ask about the Fenton parents’ apparently questionable cooking skills. Danny just snorts. So Jared speaks back up, “I take it ecto-contamination is the proper term for being ‘a little ecto’? And that it’s different from the general kind that -according to multiple sources- basically everyone in this town has? Even though your parents failed to mention it. I imagine this probably affects health and care”. ‘Contamination’ pretty firmly implied it being a health thing.

Danny sighs, “‘cause I got it from blatantly and aggressively ignoring nearly all forms of lab safety. Which would probably be a mark against them in your little book. But yeah fine, my ecto is little more unique. Common knowledge, though not really your business”.

“Again, it rather is. But I guess that’s understandable. Does it affect your health and care though? I would prefer to attempt to be thorough”. He’s glad he’s not wearing a wire or body-cam.

Danny looks him over and nods a little, yeah dude could probably get fired for not reporting all this crap. Would kinda make him a dick for no real reason to not answer that, “fair enough. It does, but my folks are pretty aware though. And they’re basically the leading ectologists. If they don’t know how to handle me, then no one does”, no one entirely human anyway.

Jared nods, enough information to be an answer, vague enough to tell him practically nothing. Kid’s smart. Grunting, “good enough”, squinting, “wait, would another family even be able to look after you effectively?”.

Danny snorts and actually laughs, “are you kidding? No, of course not”, as much as his parents being his parents resulted in ghostly injuries and being actively hunted and endless amounts of paranoia; it also saved his half-ghostly ass left right and centre. This legless/leg optional situation would be a bajillion times worse if he didn’t have parents that could build legs and get them to work with his spooky ass.

Jared shakes his head disbelievingly, so it didn’t even matter how he was being treated/looked after; he literally couldn’t get suitable treatment anywhere else but here. No wonder the doctor wanted him home, on top of the government trying to do who knows what. The doctor was actually looking out for his patients' best interests. “Well then I guess it’s best you’re home then. On that note, how are you coming along treatment wise? Healing well? And the prosthetics?”.

Danny snorts, “back to normal people questions huh?”, pushing himself up onto his elbows again, “my healings fine. Doctor approved. CyberSteps are getting there. My ecto’s ‘causing issues but also only reason they’ll feasibly work”, looking the cop over and tilting his head, “you're asking me shit, so I’mma ask you shit. You got any dead relatives who were really into white and a real stickler for rules. Maybe was a prison warden or sherif in the nineteen hundreds? Or maybe a mafia member that went to jail? Has a thing for black fedoras?”, he has to ask, ‘cause it would be just his luck to get stuck with a relative of Walker’s. Not to mention a relative of Walker’s that isn’t a dick and doesn’t utterly despise him. Yet at least.

Jared raises both eyebrows a bit disbelievingly, “Cordell Walker was a mafia member that worked up to being a prison warden after serving time there, nineteen hundreds yeah. How did you know that?”. Jared is insanely confused and a bit freaked out. Shaking his head, “that’s... good that the prosthetics might actually work”.

Danny glares at him and mutters, “Ancients seriously? Why me”, tilting his head and laughing, “wait so he actually was a criminal?”, then starts laughing at Jared’s confused nod, “oh my Zone! HAHAHAHA oh man! I am so bugging him about that. Oh he’s not living that down!”, pausing to snort before adding, “literally not living that down”, and flops to lay down on the bed, laughing more. Waving his hand at the confused cop, “don’t worry about it. It’s just- wow haha. It’s just that your great-grandpa, or whatever, locked me in jail a couple times”, continuing at Jared raising his eyebrows almost comically, “he’s the warden of a ghost prison just inside the portal. So, uh, congrats I know your family. He kinda hates me though so. And he’s kinda a dick, no offence”.

Jared blinks, “I... don’t think I have a response for that and I’m pretty sure this almost qualifies as a conflict of interest”. There isn’t any kind of training for ‘subject knows your dead relative and was apparently arrested by them once’. Swallowing, “what did he... arrest you for?”.

Danny blinks and laughs awkwardly, “uh, first time was driving illegally pretty much. Second, possession of illegal... things. And after that there’s been a lot of other things. Something like ten jail breaks slash destruction of prisons. Probably gives me another assaulting an officer and resisting arrest charge every time he sees me. Honestly man? He’d arrest me just for existing”, tilting his head, “I think he actually has arrested me for that”, chuckling, “like I said, he hates me and he’s a dick. Pretty sure he’s got a cattle prod with my name on it, literally. One of my scars is from him attempting to brand me”.

Jared blinks really harshly at that, he had heard Cordell was a sadist but Christ, “Jesus, that is insane in all honesty. I had heard some... less than pleasant horror stories about him but that seems a bit... much. He was the first cop in the family though, and many of us did brag about having mafia roots as kids”, shaking his head, “I certainly still do”. And this teen apparently destroyed prisons, what is up with this kids life?

Danny snorts, “I would too”, ‘cause come on, having roots to the mafia is just plain cool. Shrugging, “I could give you a really wild story to take back and uh, set up a meeting or something? Y’ know, in return for not possibly getting me tortured and killed? Or having to hack your police system stuff?”.

“Are you... bribing an officer?”, Jared is out of his depth with this kid, and he is absolutely positive he has a very mischievous side and very little regard for the legality of things.

Danny snorts, “not even close to the most illegal thing I’ve done. And might please Walker- uh, ghost Walker, some”, shrugging, “technically I’m bribing two officers”, and smirks devilishly.

Jared is pretty sure he shouldn’t be encouraging this, but this was... an opportunity that really was otherwise impossible. Meeting long-dead family that were something of a legend was quite the offer, “you are a rather sneaky teen, aren’t you? I can’t say I’m going to turn that down. But are you really well enough to do something like that?”.

Danny snorts and mutters, “if I’m well enough to get punched in the face, then I think the fuck so”. Jared pretends he didn’t hear that, he’s decided he really just doesn’t want to know. Danny looks to him, “eh, it’ll be fine. Just maybe don’t call him Cordell, dead-naming a ghost is a good way to get stabbed or shot or maimed or a lot of other painful things. He just goes by Walker now”.

Jared nods dutifully, yup he’s officially ‘compromised’ and no longer unbiased with this case. Best he keeps that to himself though, kid’s probably banking on this being a way to ensure he keeps his mouth shut. This kid was bolder than he seems, definitely not as ‘in the background’ or nervous as he acted at first. That was probably just a tactic to avoid people looking into his shit.

Danny smirks, “cool, I’ll coax him into the mortal realm at some point. Gives me an excuse to annoy the heck out of him”.

“You’re more of a trouble maker than I pegged you for. Please avoid breaking the law to do that”.

Danny blinks, “uh, no?”, activating the hover cushion and hovering around his room to adjust somethings, “so, any more questions that are ultimately pointless?”.

Jared quirks an eyebrow, “honestly? No. Since you’re right, there isn’t any point. But I really should ask what kind of punishments you get?”, he’ll get more than just looked at funny if he doesn’t ask the most basic child abuse question out there.

Danny shrugs, “a stern talking to? Maybe them having a meeting with a teacher and scaring them? Another parent/son bonding thing that turns into getting almost eaten by swamp monsters or getting abducted by the mayor and hunted for sport by his personal ghost science experiments? Getting shown more videos about how not doing my chores will blow the house up and kill everyone?”.

Jared glares at the kid who smirks, “do you just want me to have to scrap everything?”, grumbling to himself and jotting down in his little book, “I’ll just write down the first two”, before looking back to the kid, “what are your chores anyway?”.

Danny smirks, no point lying now might as well go all in, “cleaning the lab. Yup, the ecto-contaminated kid that reacts to hunter tech and ecto is the one who cleans the place filled with those things”, why his parents had him clean the lab was beyond him, not that he minded. Was a good excuse to snoop new inventions or drop off a ghost or two in the portal. Speaking of that, what the heck’s he gonna do with Skulker? If he releases the dude he’ll probably chase down the doc. Eh he’ll warn the guy to keep a bone saw on hand or something. Chuckling at the cop, “also vacuum the walls sometimes”.

Jared blinks, “neither... neither of those are normal. You have got to be kidding me. Why?”.

Danny shrugs, “no idea man. Though now I don’t have any chores, well except the chore of healing”, and floats over to the door, gesturing to it, “so we done? Cool to leave the crime scene?”.

Jared stands and lifts his phone, “I actually need to take some photos of your room, so maybe try to make a section not completely nightmarish?”.

What then proceeds is the two moving around a few things and Danny dumping a pile of cloths over a particularly unpleasant looking square of carpet, so Jared can get his photo. He also takes photos of the star-covered ceiling, hand-built rocket models, and his computer video-game set-up. Noting the space flight simulators, “you a fan of space? I have a cousin who’s an astronaut you know”. Danny zips right over into his face, causing him to fall on his ass, Danny stays in his face and follows him though, “what! Oh my Zone! What missions have they been on?!? Wait, have they been on any?!? Did they get to go to any planets?!? Or a satellite?!? What was the recovery like?!? Oh! Oh! What’s wearing an actual spacesuit like?!?...”.

Alright, Jared thinks, this kid was a little freaky and was officially seriously freaking him out. Interrupting Danny’s word vomit, “uh... I don’t know? I think ‘like’ might have been an understatement, you’re a bit... obsessive”.

Danny huffs and glares at the guy, how, no seriously how could he not know? Not ask? “You disappoint me, and shut it. Side-effect of the ecto”, practically hissing, “and I’m interested, not obsessive”. He knows a little echoey ghostliness came out there ‘cause space is not his Obsession.

Jared nods slowly and blinks at the wide-eyed teen that he’s pretty sure hasn’t blinked in a while, “uh sure thing. Could I... maybe get off the floor?”, which now that he’s not focused on the kid going a bit crazy, he’s noticed said floor is a bit more than foul-smelling.

Danny stares a little more and realises he’s effectively pinning the guy without actually touching him, backing off but grumbling, “deserved it, family goes to space maybe and you don’t know shit about it? Ridiculous. At least Lewis would ask”, Lewis was a curious dude, Vee just didn’t know shit.

Jared gets up slowly and makes a point to get out of the kids bedroom, the kid shooting him glares like he’s committed a crime the entire time.

Jasmine sticks her head out of her bedroom too, “everything alright and good now?”, looking from the slightly freaked cop to her slightly wide-eye brother who’s grumbling incoherently, “Danny stop frightening the guests”. Danny grumbles incoherently a bit more but in ghost just to be creepy because let it be known, he was a dumbass.

Jared studiously ignores the... sounds? the kid is making and lifts up the notebook, “we’re good here. My partner’s waiting so I should get going”. Jared heads down the steps, spotting the sister putting her hands on her hips and looking unimpressed at Danny, “what is wrong with you Danny? Are you trying to make him suspicious?”.

“His cousin is an astronaut and he knows nothing, fucking nothing, about that?...”, and looks to start wide-eyed ranting, which Jasmine looks fond? over. This family was... weird.

Nodding his head at the parents, who smile and look relieved. Telling him they were rather... aware, things weren’t really acceptable here. And here he was not reporting that because of a bribe of all things, and honestly? after that performance, he’d rather not see what that kid’s like mad. That’s not mentioning how awkward working with the Fenton’s would be if he did report this. Again, they were basically cops here; their own ecto-department, alongside the Red Huntress.

Maddie jumps up to get the door while Danny and Jazz come down the stairs to see him off, only for Danny’s ghost sense to go off and a (very manly) scream sounding from outside. Everyone rushing to the door to see Ember literally standing on the cop car hood, her stomping on the windshield with one boot and telling the ‘piggy to lick her boots’ and moving to strum her guitar.

Danny’s folks of course run out guns blazing, while he silently slips into the background to transform; and Jared rushes over to his partner, grumbling about Chester being more of a greenhorn than him. Chester, meanwhile, is wide-eyed, back stiff, and clutching his chair seat for dear life.

Danny Phantom flies out -with his ghostly legs being, in fact, legs- to the sight of the cops trying to peel out of here while shooting their standard issue ecto-pistols at the ghost. His parents chasing said ghost, who’s of course mocking them and sticking out her tongue.

Ember shouting, “babypop!”, as soon as she sees Danny and floating straight at him. So he does the smart thing and leads her on a little goose chase. Which, in typical fashion, results in him getting a guitar powered fist-shaped sound wave punch straight into the side of a building.

She shouts at him, “my babypops been missing a while Phantom, know anything ‘bout that?!”. Danny snickers, “you know, you calling us both babypop raises some serious questions”.

“Oh can it”.

Making Danny laugh and shakes his thermos a little, “already canned the tin can. Care to join? Not sure how much makeout room there is though”. Which promptly gets him slammed into the road, “keep this up and I’ll put a cement lock on the thermos!”.

She rolls her eyes and readies her guitar again, “that won’t work, we can phase through cement, dipstick”.

Danny pauses and holds up a finger, “actually, my folks are making a mass-producible ecto-cement”, shrugging, “which I’m sabotaging because oof, imagine slamming into a ghost proof wall mid-battle?”.

Ember chuckles, “yeah, would really ruin the vibes. Speaking of vibes, try these sound waves out”, and turns the nob to something Danny’s pretty sure is new. Great. Watching, and failing to dodge, a pink line of sound slice through the air... and his shoulder.

Danny watches the arm go flying into someone’s garden, “wow, some really cutting edge beats you’ve got there”, and promptly dodges another pink line.

The fight again pausing when the dude who owns the garden throws Danny’s arm back at him, which he just lets it bounce off the side of his head, “way to get dismembered asshole!”.

Danny holds up a finger to Ember, “one second”, looking to the guy as Ember crosses her arms. Danny snatching his arm out of the air and tucking it under his armpit, “okay first off, dismemberment requires multiple limb removal; I only lost one. Two, I’ll admit my arm wouldn’t make very good fertiliser, but was that really necessary? And three-”, smirking, “-thanks for the hand. I’ll make sure to put my act together. Got to stay handsome after all”. Turning to Ember and speaking quiet enough the scowling guy won’t hear; though Ember shooting him a few miles away into a tree helps, “got a girl to impress, ya know. I like to think she prefers the whole over bits and bites”.

That gets Ember to pause and actually smile, if this were a video game a little ‘!’ would have likely appeared over her head, “oh! You’re dating again? The goth? I’d ask if it was the techy but you said girl”.

Danny throws his hand out to the side, “why do you all always think I’m dating them?!?”.

Ember snorts, rolls her eyes, and puts a hand on her hip, “your two humans are attached at the hip to you. How are you not dating them?”.  

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, “we’re close so what? I’m a protective asshole who likes to keep what’s mine close. Fuck off. I’m dating Red for your information”.

Ember giggles and shakes her head, “silly boy, and nice to see your death wish is still intact”, readying her guitar to restart their battle, “she know you’re one of us yet?”.

Danny chuckles as he stretches out his torso to avoid another fist blast, “naw, that info’s still ghosting her”, earning both another head shake and a pink slicing blast from the ghost.

Meanwhile, Lewis is just now taking his last shift break. Flipping through the Amity news because again, being prepared is nice and Danny’s a verifiable walking time bomb for physical injuries. And surprise surprise Phantom him is currently practically eating a tree with his face fighting some rocker chic. Eddie would probably ask her for a night of fun or something; though she might might be a minor. Maybe? It’s hard to tell. Well whatever, she’s currently smacking Danny over the head with her guitar. Squinting at the screen before sighing, the kid’s arm is definitely not attached to him. So check his arm brace, check his stitch work, make sure his bones are aligned right. Watching him get hit over the head again, maybe he should ask if Danny even can get concussions; he hopes not.

Quirking an eyebrow at his phone ringing, pausing the video, “hello?”.

“Dr. Dan Lewis? This is Jared Walker from the Amity police department”.

Lewis sighs, why does he feel like Danny’s at fault for this, “yes?”. Just the same as Eddie is literally always at fault whenever the San Francisco police call.

“I just finished up with a welfare check on Daniel Fenton, and just wanted to confirm that he’s indeed medically alright and that someone other than the Fenton parents’ are keeping an eye on the kid”.

Lewis grimaces, oh no way that went well, “he’s better than anyone else would be, so he’s quite fine; no need to worry. After this shift I’ll be taking something of a leave to stay at the Fenton household, I do intend to keep a rather close eye on him. That is my job after all. Do you need anything from me for your report?”. Danny must have done something to keep this guy from just outright reporting that the house was ridiculously unsafe.

“No, that’s alright. I think I’d rather not know whatever it is you do know”, alright so Danny definitely did something, something a ‘normal’ person wouldn’t really approve of, “so long as there’s someone more... responsible, watching him I’m not going to concern myself. Try to get him to clean his room, I doubt this’ll be the last time someone raises the alarm about that kid. I doubt ‘I know your dead grandparent’ is something he can pull again. And most less seasoned cops would not have reacted well to nearly being assaulted”.

Lewis sighs, Danny seriously can not keep his nose out of trouble. Though assaulting a cop is something he’d expect from Eddie not Danny. Though in Eddie’s case, the cop wouldn’t be alive to talk about it. “I’ve told him as much. I do hope my patient wasn’t too much of a hassle, he can definitely be a bit odd. Though that’s hardly unusual for the family”.

“Oh I’m aware. That kid is a bit more.... startling though. I don’t envy you. Thanks for taking my call, I imagine you’re a busy man”.

Lewis chuckles, “he hasn’t tried to kill or eat me yet, so he’s a fairly enjoyable patient. Very interesting. Have a good day”.

“Yeah...”, Lewis is pretty sure he hears the guy mutter, “what is up with people today? Everyone’s a goddamn nutcase”, before hanging up. Lewis barely gets the time to chuckle down at his phone before it pings from that private server Phantom chat.

DPain: so

DPain: that spooky from fore might

DPain: might

DPain: be lowkey coming for you for my scrappy bits

DPain: also

DPain: mighto scared a cop

NightShade: made pig squeal

Tiethief: so he told me

Tiethief: should I just give the spooky what he wants?

DPain: put it in a present, throw it at his face screaming bomb!

PDAxpda: not like you need it

NightShade: n tinman might actually stab you or something if you don’t

Tiethief: that is a rather convincing argument

Lewis tosses his phone into the tray, hopefully this ghost doesn’t show up mid-surgery.

And he showed mid-surgery. Very mid-surgery. As in, hands in someone’s intestines kind of mid-surgery with a number eleven scalpel. All his underlings just hug the walls, or slowly move out of the room, effectively leaving him holding a guy together by himself at the table. Cowards. Lewis swallows and is impressed with himself at sounding calm and slightly bored, “do you mind? I am rather busy. The secretary could give you a number if you need something”.

“Where’re the whelps skinnings?”.

Lewis sighs, lifts up the hand holding the scalpel and points it at the ghost, “rude. As I said, I have my hands full. And I imagine the ‘whelp’ wouldn’t appreciate my patient keeling over from your pestering”. Here’s hoping the ghosts are sorta friendly with Danny at least slightly and really are against using someone's Obsession for a cheap shot.

Skulker blinks and internally winces slightly, well aware of the whelps protective Obsession, “fair play to you. I will wait. Here”, and nods curtly.

Lewis raises a very disbelieving judgmental eyebrow, “no you’re not. I somehow doubt you are even close to sterile. And I would rather not have to explain to his wife how he mysteriously got ecto-contamination during surgery”. Lewis is honestly surprised the ghost tilts his head, shrugs, and just... leaves. Ghosts were very interesting. Though he’s not about to hang up his doctor coat for the ghost hunter spandex.

Brittney walks up next to him, shaking slightly and readjusting her glasses, “Dan?”.

Lewis simply gets back to work, gesturing the others over, “yes?”. Thankfully they listen and also thankfully no one passed out on him this time.

Brittney swallows, “what the fuck”. Which just makes Lewis chuckle.

Two hours later Lewis snaps off his gloves into the trash and turns sideways to nearly crash right into the ghost. Sighing, ghosts were incredibly determined bastards. Looking at the ghosts grinning face, “this better not become routine or I’ll have to start removing your organs or something along those lines. You’re already dead, so it wouldn’t count as malpractice”.

“If you make a habit of taking parts of the whelps pelt, then gladly”.

Lewis tilts his head, that was kind of tempting; but he’s pretty sure he’ll pass. “He doesn’t need it so I don’t see why I would”, now to figure out how to deal with this, he didn’t exactly have Danny’s scraps on hand; though he had been effectively given the go-ahead. Eh he’ll just walk out to his car, slowly, and drive home, slowly. Peoples reactions could be interesting and annoying the ghost might discourage him from doing this again. He could do without ghosts showing up in his ER. Walking off and gesturing for him to follow, “follow”.

Skulker raises a metal eyebrow, “very few would dare turn their backs on the mighty Skulker”. Impressed or insulted? The doctor had turned his back on the best hunter in all the Zone at their previous encounter. And the doctor had already threatened him with a weapon. So Skulker’s leaning towards impressed.

Lewis chuckles, “if you hurt me I have one friend who’ll beat you up and another who would eat you; or at least very aggressively try to”, tilting his head as he walks, “and a fiancée who would sue you out of your lair and everything you own”. Glancing at Skulker, who of all things looks impressed.

Skulker nods curtly, “you and the whelp run in fine circles”, explains this new apparent human pet. The little whelply Prince wasn’t one for acquiring new pets.

Lewis chuckles as they pass a few nurses who looking to be trying to point out the hulking metal ghost following him like he somehow hadn’t noticed, speaking towards them, “I’m aware. Just ignore him”, then addressing said ghost while the nurses undoubtedly add this to the gossip mill, “you seem impressed”.

Skulker laughs, “a good prize should be impressive! The boys accomplishments are many, he is strong, and he is rare”, and grins more than a little viciously.

Lewis pauses as they get halfway across the parking lot, turning to Skulker, “so you respect him then. You care”, shrugging, “in a way”.

Skulker huffs and very obviously pretends to not give a damn, “a hunter respects the hunt and fellow hunters, that is all. And it wouldn’t due for him to fail to someone pathetic and unworthy”.

Lewis can’t help but laugh, “a friend of mine is like him, none of their enemies respect them. They just don’t want them to murder them. Mind you, most of their enemies die the first time they meet”. Lewis pulls out his phone as Skulker grunts, “skilled hunter”, which Lewis nods at as he walks.

Tiethief: metal spooky with lots of guns already here and apparently respects you

Tiethief: but is also trying to pretend he doesn’t

Tiethief: he is not a good actor

DPain: eh

DPain: he’s helped me the odd time

PDAxpda: well that was fast

PDAxpda: guy knows what he wants

DPain: he isn’t trying to hurt you is he

Tiethief: no

Tiethief: no need to be overprotective

Tiethief: I’m just taking him to get scraps slowly

Tiethief: very slowly

DPain: *snort* hahahaha food

DPain: *good

NightShade: make him swear not to tell vampireass monochrome’s leggy situation in return

DPain: oh shit

DPain: smart

DPain: why didn’t I think of that

PDAxpda: ‘cause you’re a dumbass

NightShade: our dumbass

DPain: hsiabdajbfje

DPain: rocker just asked if I was dating you assholes and you go and say shit like that

Lewis shakes his head as he hops into his car, sending off a final, Tiethief: you’re young, live a little, before driving off; being followed by a freaking ghost. He knows the punning he probably just encouraged but that only makes him smirk at the other two teens expense. They messed up his patient files and made Eddie practically blow up his phone while getting insanely dangerously drunk and probably killing someone to blow off steam (neither of which was all that uncommon but still; doesn’t mean he wanted that bad habit encouraged), paybacks a bitch; and apparently punny.

By the time he gets to his place he’s pretty sure the ghost is suitably annoyed. Heading in, he’s glad Anne’s still at work, better to not drag her into this. Not that she would likely mind. Would handle it with the controlled grace and power she always did. Glancing at the ghost as he moves to one of the closets, “now this stays between us, no need for Vlad to know. As far as that old friend of mine knows Danny never lost his legs. We are messing with him some”.

Skulker huffs, “I only tell him anything because he pays me”, taking a bag from the doctor guy and glancing inside. Grinning extremely maliciously, “and this outweighs any money or upgrades”.

Lewis nods and puts his hands on his hips, “another form of payment for this little gift could certainly be leaving Danny alone enough to study. He'd make a nice surgical assistant”, smirking, “he’s very good with a knife and stitch work”.

Skulker tilts his head and chuckles, “pestering the whelp is half the point. The potential of him spending his human time cutting people up and taking others scraps is tempting though”. Making the Prince even more of a little hunter was very tempting. He cared not one bit for that space whatever human job he was chasing before. So the boys studying meant nothing.

“Then bite the Eden’s apple. I already offered the kid a job”, shrugging, “granted he makes it through medical school”, glaring at the ghost purely to make a point. Feeling very smug at Skulker seeming annoyed but smiling slightly; not that it’s easy to tell with the metal face.

Lewis chuckles, “also, I appreciate you making him regrow his legs. Now I don’t have to knock him out”.

That gets Skulker to give him an almost concerned seeming look, “you have a ghost knockout device?”, which Lewis just grins at as the ghost promptly leaves. Well, he just successfully intimidated a ghost. Like symbiotes and MRI machines. Looking out the window to the dark sky, it’s about time he checks in on his patient properly; and probably patches him up yet again. That kid needed to just have a doctor shadowing him at all times.

Danny flops his head into Valerie’s lap, tail swishing lazily in the air at random. Sam and Tucker are lobbing chunks of mystery substances at each other. Valerie pats his head, “I still can’t believe you bribed a cop and got away with it”.

Danny chuckles meanly before going slightly wide-eyed, “oh yeah! And get this, Walker’s first name was apparently Cordell. Cop’s his grandson or something”.

Tucker gets hit in the head by something purple and fuzzy, “seriously? Your luck man”. Making everyone laugh just as Maddie sticks her head in, “the next CyberStep prototype is ready, sweetie”, looking around the room, “oh! You kids are still here? You really should head home and let Danny rest”, almost glaring at Valerie, “you especially missy. Danny being... endowed... or not”;

Danny wheezes in laughter while everyone else chokes. Valerie promptly hits him, so he manoeuvres his tail to poke her in the head; she, of course, swats It away. Sam however, surprises him by grabbing It and yanking him to the floor as she goes to stand, Tucker following as they move to leave.

Sam eyeballing Valerie, “well?”. Who sighs and leans down to give Danny another pat and a kiss before getting up to leave herself.

Danny sticks his arms up at her, “lift me, am baby”. Valerie snorts and leans down lifting him up, “yes, big scary baby”. Danny laughs with a high pitched voice very intentionally, “spooky scary skeleton baby”. Valerie groans and drops him on the bed, “you’re awful, you damn fool”, shoving his head into the blankets.

Danny chuckles, “you’re the worst, you stupid fool-lover”. She just snorts while Danny stays there, with his face smushed into the bed as they actually do leave.

His mom coming over after she’s sure his friends have gone. Her sitting on the bed and patting it, giving his shoulder a little rub, “you are okay with testing the CyberSteps right? And the way the house is? It’s setup? You can get to everything fine?”, continuing as he turns his head to her, “I know we haven’t really been treating this like you actually are... disabled. We’ve been treating this like you’ll pretty much go back to normal”, sighing and looking to the ceiling, “I know with the CyberSteps you’ll be able to walk again, have legs again. But it’s... it’s not the same. And I don’t- I don’t know if you want us to teat you like you’re no different. Not give you extra help or do things for you”, looking back to him and ruffling his hair a little, she can tell he’s thinking, “I know you want the general public to treat you the same and not even know anything’s happened. But us? I guess what I’m asking sweetie, is if you like the way we treat you”, trying to lighten the mood a little, make this seem less serious, “and no, by help you out I don’t mean babying you. I know you don’t like that”.

Danny opens and closes his mouth a few times. His mom was obviously worried and was definitely always going to be bothered by his leglessness, but he wasn’t actually legless. But revealing that was more than a little unpleasant sounding. Regardless what his friends say, regrowing human(ish) flesh and bone was not the same as developing a ghostly tail. It wasn’t even in the same realm of same. Literally. Humans do not heal like he does. Not even close. And him revealing he doesn’t heal like a fucking human is absolutely going to make them question if he even is human anymore. If he’s been too changed by his Core and contamination to qualify as human. And his parents deciding the answer was ‘no. Not human’ was nightmare fuel that he simply did not want to face. That, his hybrid status, was getting pried from his cold dead hands, when it came to his folks. And besides, even if he did tell her, then she’d be worried about his weird-ass healing and humanness. Which she would probably be more bothered by than him technically being ‘disabled’. So that’s solved. Kinda. Not really. Something tells him that having legs -real ones- while human was going to be an uncommon thing; too risky to have them often. He has a distinct feeling that is making ClockWork smirk meanly at him.

(ClockWork was, in fact, watching the near future with a smirk; and drumming their fingers over their staff almost in eager anticipation)

Now the other dilemma Danny’s having is this whole ‘do you want us to treat you the same/help you/modify things for you’ question. He means, the answers were obvious to him: yes/no/no. But his mom was obviously having at least a little bit of a hard time with treating him like nothings changed. Obviously she wanted to help him. And that made sense. She was his mom, any mom would want to help their disabled kid. That meant he needed to give her a reason, make her feel good and better about him not wanting that. She needed to feel like she was helping him by not helping him. Huh, talk about an oxymoron. And funnier, doing that would make him feel helpful and his Obsession at least a little content. But the question was, how to go about doing that? Tilting his head -and knowing damn well his mom is just letting him sort through his head- he could just be honest? in a different way. He disliked being babied, them helping him when he didn’t goddamn need it, because of his ghostly pride. Because of that ghostly part of his mind. His ghostly brain. Which his mom had asked about. Had asked how his mind was different, was more ghostly. He could just... tell her? That’s pretty well what she wanted right? and it would keep her from being all weird about this. Maybe anyway. Hopefully. But also how to explain that? He wasn’t kidding that he really seriously didn’t know just how different his mind was. Where did his human pride end and his ghost pride begin? He had never liked being babied, but he definitely hated it much more since the accident. But he’s pretty sure full human Danny wouldn’t mind his folks doing things for him or putting stuff in easier reach. Heck! full human Danny would probably want nothing to do with robo-legs; especially robo-legs made by his explosion prone parents. Full human Danny would probably be fine being pushed around in a wheelchair. Halfa Danny definitely wasn’t.

Swallowing, alright brain, time to be on the ghostly side. Huh, for once he was actively wanting to be ghostly around his family, “okay uh, I think that -me being bothered with being babied so much- is a ghost brain thing. And um, you guys trying to help me unnecessarily -as in I could honestly do it myself just fine- is babying to me. Wounds my pride I guess”, shrugging. It didn’t help that he was a powerful ghost. He was a proud bastard alright? Ghostly proud for sure. Nowhere near as bad as Vlad though. That guy was, like, sixty percent pride or something.

Maddie nods, making a point to not look too curious, she can tell a bit that Danny’s more certain about this than he’s letting on. So he was clearly not comfortable yet talking about how his... Core and ectoplasm affected his mind. Meaning this was probably him testing the waters a bit, him taking a bit of a leap of faith. She could understand that, it made sense, him hide anything about himself he thought was ghostly was what he was used to. He had ghost hunters for parents after all. So she needed to not be bothered by this, just like the tail and Core. But also just like with those, she was bothered, she just had to work on that and not let it show; because upsetting him, making him feel like he still had to hide parts of himself, would bother her much more. Though to get any confirmation that his mind has changed, who he is, his personality; was harder to swallow than his physical body being a bit different. And here, he probably had a point. She thought he had been more self-sufficient, more caring about his looks, and more capable as a teen. She had chalked that up to growing up, but maybe that was his ghostly influence showing. Tilting her own head, “well ghosts are prideful things. So I guess you being more proud, in a ghostly way, would make sense. Do you... have different kinds of pride? Like, human pride and ghostly pride?”. Not ‘ghost pride’ because he’s not a ghost; no matter how close to one he’s become.

Danny rolls onto his back and stares at his ceiling a little, “I think my ghost pride trumped my human one. I’m not sure I have human pride?”, tilting his head, “or maybe my ghost stuff just abducted my human pride and modified it?”. Did he actually know the answer here? No. And it’s not like he’s gonna ask Spectra how his mind worked. How human it was. That would be asking for punishment. Would really confuse her though. Maybe. She was one ghost he didn’t really understand.

Maddie nods and ruffles his hair, “your ecto-circulatory system and Core? That would make sense”, looking up at the ceiling too, “ghosts are impressions of the living, so your ghostly set up cannibalising your human pride and leaving you with the ecto-impression of it seems plausible. Seems logical pride would be something your ectoplasm would latch on to or overpower”, she bites back adding that ghosts were obviously proud since they seemed to think they were better or above the living when they were only the leftovers of the living. Effectively scraps. But that thought makes her squint a little, there wasn’t anything for Danny’s Core to be a ‘scrap’ of... The tail was obvious, but the Core? They had thought those were likely built of leftover emotional imprints or maybe the heart? That clearly couldn’t be right since Danny still had a heart -Dan had pretty well confirmed his heart being there- and, even with his aloofness, she’s still positive he was definitely all there emotionally. So the Core was an addition, not a leftover. Meaning that maybe... they were at least partly wrong. On their basic understanding/finding, of all things. Maybe the majority of a ghost was leftovers, but some were new?

Danny interrupts her thoughts, “‘ecto-circulatory system’? Is that just, like, what you’re calling my, uh, ectoplasm? And I think it’s more likely that ghost pride, or whatever, is stronger and more focused on, or something, and so the human pride is kinda redundant? Would be wasteful to have two, I think”, chuckling, “I guess ‘cannibalising’ is one way to put it. More like taking the old and upgrading it”, then very stupidly adding, “less ‘impression’, more ‘freed from unneeded baggage”, and instantly cringing because calling living, breathing, eating, organs, etcetera, ‘baggage' was probably simultaneously worrying and offensive. Maybe she wouldn’t take it that way? Even if it was... kinda true. Why have organs and bones when you can just be energy? Why be reliant on oxygen and food when you could just... not? But at the same time, why need to absorb ectoplasm, just one thing, instead of diversifying your needs? No ectoplasm equals some pretty fucked and probably fading ghosts. No cheese or beef just equals ‘eat something else you moron’. Still though...

Maddie gives her son a slightly concerned look, did he have that ‘ghosts are better than the living’ mindset? That could.... could explain his tolerance and even seeming fondness of ghosts. But he also clearly didn’t ascribe to humans being lesser; than ghosts or him. Like how some people just found cats better than dogs, better pets than dogs; but didn’t view dogs as some lesser beings. Was this part of his ghostly influences or just the way he would view things regardless? She should ask instead of assuming, assuming has gotten her in a bad way a lot it seems. And she told herself she’d do less of that. But first, his question. His curiosities were more important than hers, especially if he might be genuinely worried about anything, “your ecto-circulatory system is just what your dad rather dubbed your Core and ectoplasm. How it works and flows together. Like blood and a heart”, shifting a bit and biting her lip, “I guess having two kinds of pride would be unnecessary. But... do you? think ghosts are better than humans? Above?”, looking at his face and making a point to come off as gentle, “swapping ‘impression’ for ‘losing baggage’ sounds less like they are our leftovers and more like we’re garbage holding back our ghosts”. When it came to power she could understand, humans simply couldn’t match ghosts when it came to raw power. But they lost so much. Or that’s what research said, what she had thought for so long. But even if they were wrong about ghosts being emotionless and unable to feel pain. And, according to Danny, about being able to reproduce. Ghosts still lost organs. A truly physical existence. They were still bound to Obsession, even if Dan’s idea of them loving their Obsessions had merit. They still existed almost endlessly. They still were trapped in a form, ‘mind’, habit, personality, that could barely change at all. That was horrible. A loss. Not freedom or shedding off baggage. And certainly not better. Maybe it was good and better for the ones that never knew life.

Danny pushes himself to sit up and chuckles awkwardly, he sure loves making his life harder huh? “uh, I wouldn’t say ‘garbage’”, he pointedly ignores her slightly relieved sigh, “better comparison would be prototype to finished product. Prototypes are smaller, weaker, less effective. But more manipulatable, easier to deal with, informative. Prototypes you can practically upgrade or modify like crazy. Finished things go obsolete”, tilting his head and looking a little far off, “‘when things reach their ultimately conclusion, their final stage, they can go no more. But the universe is a thing of endless mores. There will always be a higher goal. A harder day. A stronger fight. A more expensive cost. To stagnate is to someday die out. To cease to exist when the universe requires beyond the final evolutions limits. But life is a thing of endless evolution. Of constant change. Always taking more and more and more. Never to rest’”, nodding his head with a smile, “‘and that, young one, is why I love life’”, chuckling and looking back to his slightly startled looking mom, “I might have made a stupidly wise friend”, shrugging, “sure they also then went on about why they love death. But you get the point I think”.

Maddie blinks, alright so maybe him being more grown-up had something to do with making -what sounds to be- a very smart friend. Likely an adult. Choosing to make light of this because that was a bit heavy and her boy clearly thought highly of this friend; he remembered them word for word!, “and here I thought I’ve met all your friends”, patting his head and getting lightly scowled at in return, “though I would like to know what they think of ghosts”, sighing and looking back to the ceiling, “as for what you said, most people consider prototypes inferior. So that doesn’t really change my question”.

Danny nods a little, fair enough, “well... uh, I think ghosts are better yeah. Kinda. In ways”, shrugging, “the strength. The durability. The powers. The sorta immortality and Obsessions though, heh”, he may love helping and protecting people, and enjoy satisfying that pesky Obsession of his; but it was still annoying pushy bastard. Shaking his head, “and my friend? They’re kinda a loner”, was a bit weird calling ClockWork simply ‘friend’ but he so doesn’t want to get into that. Chuckling, “‘death -in the way it is known for ghosts- is a finality in a way that finality is not. An end unending. Eternity, or at the very least the possibility of it, on a shiny silver plater. A steady star in space. Enhancing and overwhelming everything around it. Never bending for anything. It’s beauty and strength. Chaos and destruction. Pure and raw; leaving room for nothing else. And the universe is nothing without that’”, Danny nods and adds, “pretty sure they also said ‘think of it like this: without death, life is worthless. Death is the core and essence of life. Without it life is just a bled dry husk. And that’s something I care nothing for’ on the same topic”.

Maddie can’t help blinking again, this whoever seemed like they genuinely didn’t prefer one over the other. Reminded her a little of Dan actually. She’s not sure she agrees with the idea that the living are worthless without ghosts. Or maybe Jack’s wild on-the-spot idea of needed ghosts had some serious merit. As in, world would end without them, kind of merit. Then squinting, thinking on the weird emphasis Danny put on ‘Obsessions’; it couldn’t- could he possibly? “Sweetie-”. Only to get cut off by Jack barging in, holding up the CyberSteps.

“I got tired of waiting! So I figured I’d just bring them up! Plus! It might be more convenient to test here! Since if there’s some kind of reaction then Danny can just hop right into bed!”. Maddie tilts her head and nods slightly; he had a point.

Danny looks around his room and rubs his neck, thinking of all the shit he hid fucking everywhere in here, “uh, I’d rather not have anything that, y’ know, might explode or anything, in my room while doing things that would make it maybe explode or something”. His dad actually blushes at that and deflates a little. So Danny adds on, “still cool with testing though dad. Just not here”; earning a wide smile in return.

Maddie nods and sighs slightly, standing up with a smile; storing away her question and worry for later, “might as well do that now then”, smiling almost meanly at Jack, “since someone’s over eager”. Jack just chuckles and grins.

Danny flicks around his tail, feeling how easy it would be to simply have legs yet how not draining the tail still was. Super odd but fuck it, odd is him or whatever. Floating up off his bed and flying his face right up to the legs, more than a little curious what they've changed to account for his Core in a way that actually works in any way. Looking inside the legs, “so, think you’ve fixed the signals miscommunication issue?”, deciding not to add ‘without messing anything else up’.

Jack beams and nods, father and son chatting a little as they head out and down the stairs. Maddie watching from behind and smiling to herself, glad he didn’t seem to be closing himself off or act uncomfortable after their ghost-related talk; like he often did. Probably had something to do with her effectively reintegrating that they were willing and okay to hear him out on his opinions and ghost tolerance. Or maybe from them knowing about his ghostly influence and accepting that as simply part of him. Refocusing and watching his tail flick and swish around; which only makes her smile grow a little. He truly had gotten pretty good with it; not a wobble or falter in sight. He might even be able to give some ghost a run for their money, once he was healed up of course, which Jack would absolutely cheer and brag over.

Danny turns his head towards his mom just as they get into the kitchen -the currently designated blast zone, since doing it in the lab around sensitive anti-ghost stuff really was stupid- tilting his head at her giggling to herself, “what?”, and blushing when she glances to his tail; him coiling It around a little, making her smile crinkle her eyes a little. Guess his folks were finally -thank the Ancients- genuinely getting use to the tail. Turning back to his dad, who sets down the legs and gestures at them a bit ridiculously. Making Danny laugh and shake his head with a smile, “yeah yeah, alright”.

Grabbing the waist and slipping his tail in, instantly wondering what would happen if he went all leggy while wearing the legs. Legs on top of legs. Legs inside of legs. Fucking legception. That’s for another day though, even if he grins like an idiot over the thought. Moving for the thumbprint scanner and pausing, huh, they moved the timer. Nice, way less awkward. Shrugging and attaching the neuroreceptors, “where'd the timer go? Not that I’m complaining”. Considering that thing controlled the drain, he’d rather be able to see it without pulling some inhuman body horror shit.

Maddie walks up and taps on the neuroreceptors between his shoulder blades, “it’s on your back, we think shortening the distance between your brain and Core, and the timer conductor might just do the trick. With a couple other changes of course”, shrugging a little, “even if that increases the distance between it and your tail -the most accessible of your ectoplasm- as well as the main body of the CyberSteps”.

Jack adds in with a laugh, “and just like before! It’s completely protected from bumps and it can be locked so no one can go fiddling with it on you!”, and slaps Dannys back over the strip, then blushing and realising that was probably dumb to do.

Danny tries (and fails) to look over his shoulder at it while his dad turns it to actually start up, “uh, won’t it be kinda hard for me to adjust it there”.

Both parents blink like this hadn’t occurred to them. “Oh”. While Danny glances to his chest and tries to focus on what he’s feeling. Again, the draining is near nothing, which is good though foreboding.

Maddie shakes her head, “well we could add a small chest bar so it could be on your chest”, nodding and thinking to herself a little, “would fall right over his Core then”.

Danny raises an eyebrow before grumbling, “who am I? Tony Stark?”, snorting to himself, “well I am a literal metal ass. Rockin’ robotics”. Then deciding why not try walking, didn’t seem like anything was going horribly awfully wrong.

Lewis had walked in just during Danny’s little dig toward Ironman and had promptly muttered to himself, “considering the super-suit leading a merry band of heroes. Yes. Yes you are”, which he’s pretty sure Danny missed. As he watches the kid go to lift his ‘leg’ -what happened to him regrowing his legs???- only for said leg to practically high kick the air aggressively, sweep Danny clean off his other foot, and flip him onto his back; hard. Eliciting a little ‘oof’ from Danny and making Lewis sigh. What is it with walking in on the hero/vigilante type getting hurt? Especially Danny. Was like the boy felt a moral and physical obligation to get injured at the sight of a doctor. Which actually... does seem like something Danny would get a kick out of.

Maddie and Jack quickly move to help him sit up. Lewis puts his last bag on the floor and walks over. Danny rubs his head and mumbles in ghost, “o̸҉w̧͘͏,̕͡ ͞I’͝v̕ę ̴͝w͘h̵̨a͝c̴͠k̕ed̴͠ m̷̕y ̢͠͡hea̵d ͏͠͠a͝ ̢͢͝sh̷͘i̛t ̵̕t͘o͟n͡ ̨a͝n͞d̸͝ ͞s̶͏͢om͡e͜͡ho͠w ͠t҉̵h͜a̡͜t̡ was͘ ͜͞͝w͜ay҉ ̛mo̕͠r̴͠e͏̸ ͏̡p̡̨ai̴͘nf͟ưl̡͝͡”, and shakes his head. Making his folks blink in surprise and squint at him slightly, many times they’ve thought they heard him muttering in a strange language; never heard it so clearly before though.

Jack chuckles and gives a lopsided awkward smile, “I guess you knowing ghost speak makes sense, son”. Catching Danny off guard, “e͘͜͞h̴̵҉¿”. Realising his fuck up, he goes to stand up only for the legs to overreact again and basically toss him -back first, because of course it does- into the table.

Lewis stands up and shakes his head, hands on his hips, “well I’m glad you’re up and walking, but maybe you should turn that down a little. Before you put a foot through the ceiling or hurt yourself further”. Danny just stands there rubbing his neck awkwardly before glancing cautiously at the legs. Though really? Lewis is damn impressed these things are actually working at all. And that Danny’s braces don’t look destroyed, but that’s another matter.

Jack chuckles, checks over the timer/conductor, and scratches his head, “they’re still on the lowest setting actually”. Maddie sighs, shakes her head, and repositions the table back where it belongs.

Her sitting down and eyeballing the CyberSteps, “I’m really not sure what else we can try. Any lower and it’s not gonna pick up and convert the signals successfully”.

Jack snatches up the little tray of peanut fudge brittle Maddie made earlier and puts it on the table. One’s missing, so he’s guessing Jazz took one before she turned in for the night. Least Dan joins them at the table. Danny looks to attempt to but winds up on the floor again. At least he lands on his butt though! Or the CyberSteps butt really. Oh whatever, all’s the same.

Danny just sits there, ‘legs’ sticking out straight, and vainly attempts to reach over his shoulder to flick the dial. His own normal flexibility surprising him a little at actually being able to reach the thing and turn it. But in typical fashion he turns it the wrong way, taking more from him and watching the legs start smoking concerningly; promptly turning the dial the other way. Everyone watching the smoke while Danny chuckles slightly, “heh”.

Danny decides ‘fuck it, pretty sure these are already busted’ and changes his tail to legs. Promptly reminding himself of the fact that the hooks for his tail are actual hooks via him being actively stabbed. Alright, he really should have seen that coming. Changing back to his tail to hopefully not leak blood everywhere and ecto-burning away any blood that might (definitely) have gotten on the hooks. Using said hooks to use his tail to stand up and get out of the (still smoking)CyberSteps.

Lewis watches him float to sit and grab up some of the brittle, pretty sure there’s some specks of blood on the ‘bandaging’. Which come on really? How does something made entirely of ectoplasm bleed human blood? How? Danny’s body made so little sense. Eddie's made more sense. And Vee was a liquid.

Maddie pats Danny's shoulder, “you alright sweetie?”. Danny of course giving a solid ‘yep’. Which Lewis is calling bullshit on, “I’ll be the judge of that”, earning an eye roll.

Jack nods and rubs his neck, “guess you’d like to check him over right off the bat huh?”, then perking up a bit, “then me and Mads can take the CyberSteps down! Give them a little check over of their own!”.

Making Danny snort, “really splitting the work there. A bio mechanic and tech mechanic. Real two for one. How suiting. Built for me”. Lewis just shoos the pair towards the lab door, Jack scooping up the ‘legs’ and bounding over; Maddie right behind after ruffling Danny’s hair.

Danny mumbles at the table as the lab door closes, “what is with ruffling my hair today?”. Then scowling at Lewis for attempting to ruffle his hair with a small smirk, Danny going intangible to block him.

Lewis rounds on Danny, pointing at his tail, “now, why is that bloody? How’s your back and arm? Can you get concussions? And I thought you said you had legs again?”.

“Twenty-one questions much? Everything’s fine, doc. I discovered the CyberSteps qualify as an iron maiden for legs. If I can get concussions I never have I think. And I’m not legless, I’m leg optional”, changing to legs and crossing them for emphasis and to effectively show off his (still intact)fashion disaster. Feeling slightly cold chair against his bare legs, and possibly the bottoms of his ass cheeks; which he’s studiously ignoring, because Ancients damnit how do girls wear this shit and not feel awkward as Hell.

Lewis blinks, “I’m pretty sure this qualifies as a crime for me to see”, well, no wonder he asked for pants. No guy should be in anything like this against his will; least Danny was rolling with it.

“Fuck the law. Also, I might have encouraged Vee to eat a cop... and a priest”.

Lewis shakes his head and gets up, “again, you’re a bad influence”. Watching Danny as he gets up and walks around his chair, going to head up the stairs. Whelp, guess he can walk. And has the most insane healing factor imaginable. Eddie technically didn’t have any special healing, Vee can just put Eddie back together. Like a jigsaw puzzle that can regrow any lost pieces to boot.

Lewis shakes his head as he closes Danny’s bedroom door, “I am once again in awe of your body”, Danny gives him a really weird look at that and awkwardly slaps his ass. Lewis scowls at him, “no. Eddie can do that, not you”, gesturing for the boy to sit down so he can make sure everything’s as it should be for a healthy person.

Danny raises an eyebrow, giving his arm over, “Eddie slaps his ass at you?”, muttering to the side, “I think Tuck is winning a bet”.

Lewis studiously ignores that, he had more than a few people question if his friendship with Eddie was really ‘just friends’. Sure, he and Anne had talked about that, opening things up. But they were pretty agreed on that being a bad idea. At least currently anyway. Pulling at bandaging, “back to tail, I somehow think that’ll be easier to wrap and less wasteful”, both of them shaking their heads at the flesh-coloured tail. Lewis quirks an eyebrow at his waist coming to a clean smooth flat end before transitioning to the tail. Eh, least he was healed and wrap-able; positives Lewis, positives.

Checking over the braces quickly, only having to change out a cracked back brace surprisingly. And very closely checking Danny’s job of reattaching his arm, the kid was seriously too good at stitching; and bone alignment apparently. Leaning back and nodding at his own work, pointless as it technically was, “guess I don’t have to gas you now”.

Danny grimaces, he’s not going to underestimate Lewis’s seriousness about healing again, “you were seriously going to do that, huh?”. Lewis just smirks at him as Danny floats up off the bed.

Lewis speaks up before Danny turns his doorknob, “speaking of Eddie, what is up with everyone thinking you’re old?”. Danny’s grin is downright malicious, “what? Did you not believe me when I pointed out time travel is a dear friend of mine”, finger-gunning at the doc, “I do have basically the god of time in my corner after all. And a time slash dimension-hopping map”.

Lewis nods acceptingly, “I’m surprised time jumping is even legal. Though ClockWork seems like the type that might not care”.

Danny chuckles, “law means nothing to them. Time loves crime. We’re like twins”, and grins meanly before opening the door and going to head back to the kitchen; Lewis following. Maybe see what ideas his folks have now, inspire them a little; they seemed kinda stuck. Which at this point was fair. For every thing that worked, something else didn’t.

The two enter to the two parents glaring at the table and off-handledly munching on brittle. Danny blinks, looks to Lewis, shrugs, and turns back to his folks. Floating over to the table, “drawing blanks?”. Jack nods and hums; taking another bite. Danny moving to sit, cooking his tail around the seat.

Maddie looks at Danny and squints, “it’s like the timer conductor simply can’t work in proper alignment with itself and you”.

Lewis tilts his head, “well couldn’t you just separate the timer function and conductor function? Sacrifice a little space-saving in the name of functionality?”. This thing working at all is a miracle alone. It also being stylish, and realistic, and compact, and durable, and practically self-sufficient; seems straight-up impossible. “Like a friend likes to say ‘ain’t nothing wrong with the cheap n’ easy option’”, shrugging, “sure, he’s usually talking about food and booze, but I think the mindset applies”.

Jack shakes his head absently, mumbling into his food, “only the best for Danny-boy”. Maddie pats his arm comfortingly. Lewis points at him, “working at all might be the best though”. Jack just grumbles incoherently at that.

Danny shrugs awkwardly, “I’m fine either way. An extra dial is nothing really”. He is not going to school or walking around town without legs, Ancients Damnit!

Maddie sighs and nods, “we’ll see, we’d rather not of course, but we’ll see.  I’m not entirely convinced that would work anyway. Might make it even worse. Since the two need to communicate so closely and heavily. Control how much is taken, how, and stored. Control how much is released and where to at a time”.

Jack nods, joining the conversation more in genuine, “I think the timer isn’t working really. It’s just not strong enough. The conductor can’t take little enough, even with storing excess, for the timer to handle; without taking too little to even activate the conductor properly”.

Maddie nods and gives Danny a soft look, “your ecto’s just too strong. The conductor needs to be strong enough to keep up and handle you, but the timer doesn’t seem able to keep up with that. We’re pretty sure the timer’s maxed out”. Danny cringes and rubs his neck, looking around awkwardly. A more power-hungry ghost would be tickled green to hear that.

Jack nods, “feasibly, we could increase storage space but that would botch the design clear to the Zone. Definitely wouldn’t be able to match your physique. Noticeably so”, and glancing at him. Knowing full well Danny wouldn’t be happy with that.

Danny instantly grimacing, “yeah no. I’ll pass on that option”. Earning a round of nods.

Lewis leans back and taps his chin, “I’m assuming by ‘too strong’ you mean ecto-level right? And could you just... make a different kind of timer? Or a conductor that could compress his energy on top of storing it?”. Hey, sometimes an outside perspective helped.

Maddie raises an eyebrow at Dan, “oh? Danny explained ecto-levels, I take it?”, shaking her head, “this timer is our newest model. I’m not sure we can currently make something stronger. And everything we’ve got for compression right now are capture devices or would likely hurt anything that could actually feel pain”, and winces slightly from Danny’s sudden sharp glare; promptly getting a matching one from Dan. Right, she was supposed to be rethinking that. And she was, honest. It’s just, they had been so sure. Fiddling with her glove a little, “habit sweetie”. Danny rolls his eyes, like he always did when they would ignore or disregard his opinions; which made her cringe. She probably just took at least a small step back with him. Lewis just continues with the glare.

Jack nods, “we haven’t really had a chance to look into reviewing things, son”, chuckling slightly, “give us some wiggle room, would ya?”. Danny rolls his eyes again but this time he has a slight smile.

Danny shrugs, back brace scraping almost loudly against the back of the chair as he leans back, “well I definitely don’t want anything that hurts ghosts being used on me. And honestly? There was never any reason to think ghosts don’t feel pain”. Lewis just nods, this wasn’t really his fight here; he’ll interject if he thinks he needs to though.

Maddie gestures with her hands, “but they don’t have nervous systems, it doesn’t make any sense. There’s no brain to measure or process that stuff”.

Jack nods a furrows his brows, “same reason we didn’t believe they had emotions. Or the ability to love, or really care about anything other than their Obsession and chaos”. Even Lewis has to admit, he’s got no clue how something without a brain experiences things that require brainwaves and nerves to experience. Ghosts or symbiotes. Though he’s got a few ideas regarding Vee.

Danny blinks, in his opinion it was obvious ghost could feel; both emotions and pain. Literally just look at them and it was obvious. But yeah, he guesses from a purely slightly close-minded human-centric scientific eye it would seem illogical or impossible. And he’s never exactly questioned the ‘how’ of ghosts feeling anything. His ghostly self included. Maybe if he could find an answer to that then his folks might really truly genuinely change their tune on ghosts; instead of just pondering it. So how did he feel things a ghost? Okay stupid question, he felt through his ectoplasm of course. But how? Everything had a slight tingle in ghost form, he had figured he was just feeling his own ecto; but maybe that wasn’t the case. Kinda like how if you pressed your finger down on something and really focused or pressed you could feel your pulse. And Cores were often described -even by him- as like a brain and they effectively were ghost hearts. Maybe that was even more literal. His Core would pulse or vibrate harder if it was doing lots of work, but it would also vibrate pretty noticeably when he was happy; he got teased about ‘purring’ over that. And his Core did get colder and even felt harder when he was pissed off. Kinda wet when he was sad. Huh, he probably should have noticed the emotional connection a long ass time ago; though not really feeling his Core consciously was a good excuse for not, background noise after all. Emotions were effectively felt through the Core. And any pain he experienced did seem to be slightly worse around his chest. So It was probably processing, or whatever, that pain. Sure people didn’t feel head pain every time they stabbed their finger with a knife, but humans were less in-tune with their brains than ghosts were with their Cores. Humans can’t ‘feel’ their brains by just focusing after all. Same went for blood verses ectoplasm though. If anything, ghosts felt more than the living.

Danny blinks, staring down at the table before looking back to his folks; who are giving him curious looks. Well damn, ghosts felt everything with their Cores. He officially gets why they were all so damn protective of them; beyond just instinctively feeling protective. Part of why they were sacred. This also explained his parents' confusion too. They admitted to knowing near nothing about Cores, so they wouldn’t know everything Cores did.

Danny sits up straight and puts a hand over his chest brace, over where his Core was, “it’s the Core. How ghosts feel things. They feel it with their Core”, continuing at his parents eyebrows raising and basically matching Lewis’s curiosity; though he can tell his dad’s restraining himself, which Danny appreciates. “Er, not sure if it’s the same for me -doubt it- but It does react to emotion and general pain. Uh, sometimes before I mentally do”, shrugging awkwardly and trying to make the air feel less crushing, “Sam and Tuck like to poke fun at my, um, purring when I’m happy or really content. Heh”, and glancing around.

Lewis smirks meanly, Danny moving his glancing to him and scowling. It was just like whenever anyone -other than Eddie- called Vee’s little snake head thing ‘cute’; which it was cute. They do that cat bleb thing too, so it was their own fault they were cute. Both Venom and Danny being cat-like wasn’t a similarity he ever expected to find.

Jack kinda wants to ask, ask everything actually, but specifically if Danny could show it or let them feel it? his Core feeling things. But he has a feeling his boy wouldn’t appreciate basically show-ponying. And experiencing an emotion, even faked, at the drop of a hat was kinda hard. Plus! He believes his boy! So does he really need to ask? His wife speaks up before he does, which is so uncommon that Danny is probably weirded out by that. Maddie tilts her head a little, “‘before you mentally do’ so your... Core is actually more emotionally sensitive?”, and squints at the air.

Maddie’s not really sure what to do with that information. She could write it off as a side-effect of forming a Core while still having a brain, nervous system, etcetera. But... realistically it made more sense to think that his Core was very similar to practically the same as a regular Core; an ice Core type specifically. And trying to claim his Core could experience emotions and pain but a regular one couldn’t was a serious fundamental difference. Sure she had hoped his ghost would keep the ability to feel emotions when It fully formed, but for his ghost’s Core to already experience emotions and in a completely different way than humans did... It wouldn’t make any sense if the Core hadn’t come in with Its own emotional setup. Especially if It picked up on emotions first. And there was the whole complication of pain, because her job rather required ‘hurting’ ghosts; but ghosts ‘hurt’ each other so she’s not too bothered by that. But thinking on the ice Core thing, maybe she could jump off from that to try and place how maybe normal his was? Ugh, she seriously wishes they knew more about Cores. “Do you maybe feel things icily?”.

Danny gives her a slightly confused look, he's pretty sure that question wasn’t worded very well. “Like if my Core gets icy with emotions?”, he actually needs the clarification here. At her nod he continues, “uh, It’s always cold. But uh, more cold rock when I’m mad and ice water when sad? I’m not really sure how to put it”, rubbing his neck, “I know I drop room temperatures when I’m mad”, tilting his head, “Sam and Tuck say I literally suck the heat out of them if I’m sad or really bummed or whatever”, shrugging, “has to be, like, strong emotion for others to really notice. I think?”; he’s pretty sure people would say something if he chilled rooms every time he was mildly frustrated. Everyone would have to wear sweaters during tests.

Lewis blinks, maybe it was better his Core was all exhausted at the hospital. But hey, it was a step up from eating someones organs in response to annoyance. Or drinking yourself under the table and then the floor, having questionable gang bangs, and getting a tattoo of a horse eating pickles.

Maddie and Jack exchange a Look. Alright, so his Core absolutely could and did process emotions and in Its own way. They absolutely couldn’t deny that ghosts feeling -and thus caring, experience pain, having morals- was not only plausible but likely. And Danny was right, if ghosts had something they could feel with then there really wasn’t a reason to assume they couldn’t feel. Looking back and nodding at Danny. Jack sticking out his arms, “I guess ice Core ghosts are emotionally cold literally”. And grinning at making Danny snort and laugh.

Danny nods at his dad with an amused smile, putting his chin in a palm/hand brace, elbow on the table. Looking to his mom as she speaks up, “I guess Cores are a lot more than a vital energy source. And if this isn’t just a you thing, a modification of your Core due to being human still, then ghosts wouldn’t be emotionless. Wouldn’t be pure chaos and evil”, sighing and leaning back, “so I guess ghosts really can’t be purely evil. But I think we really need to actually encounter a so-called ‘good’ ghost, to see just what kind of good that is”.

Danny can’t resist a wide grin effectively splitting across his face. That grin becoming pinched and very forced, while his folks jump in their seats a little as a portal just opens up, in the middle of the kitchen.

Lewis’s eyebrows get lost in his hairline successfully and he’s wondering just how often do ghosts just pop up when Danny was involved in literally anything. He’s known Eddie for a year and he’s only dropped a criminal on him once, an alien once sorta twice but he never really had anything to do with Riot, and corpses (or on their way to being a corpse) once; Eddie was much better about giving ‘I’m eating out’ heads up now. Danny he’s known less than a month and there’s been what? Three ghosts dropped on him? The metal one, Skulker, twice. The biker, Johnny right? And that time he almost walked in on the ClockWork ghost, that didn’t quite count as an encounter though.

Lewis physically wheezes at the timing of this ghost as they stick their blue hood-covered head through the portal. While Danny feels the need to forcibly restrain himself from smacking ClockWork over the head, as they float fully through the portal in their child form.

Jack and Maddie blink, if they were a little less tired then they would have immediately whipped out pistols from their suits and held the spook at gunpoint; though holding back on firing until this strange ghost seemed hostile, if for anything to appease their (definitely overly ghost friendly)son and try out his ‘ghosts aren’t evil’ mindset.

Jack and Maddie’s sleep deprivation-induced hesitance gives the ghost the chance to smirk mischievously and speak, “you called?”.

Danny blinks and gapes like a fish, clacking his jaw shut to avoid yelling ‘what the fuck ClockWork?!?!?’ because seriously. What the fuck are they thinking? What are they doing? Has his guardian lost their damn mind? Has all their sense of reason and common sense utterly timed out? What’s their malfunction? Does their clock Core need Its batteries changed? The hands tightened? The clock face or case polished? The pendulum realigned? Danny tears his eyes off them and looks to his parents, opening his mouth back up, “uhhhhhhh”.

Lewis sighs into a hand, “and you are?”. Jack and Maddie glance at him quickly with looks of utter disbelief; was the man just utterly unflappable?

Danny just loses it at that, ‘cause take a fucking context clue mr. smart doctor man, “do you not see the clocks everywhere? Whom the fuck DO YOU THINK?!?”.

Lewis levels him with an unimpressed look, “I’m being nice”. This was probably ClockWork, but he wasn’t one for assumptions.

Jazz walks downstairs rubbing her eyes and yawning, “it’s five in the morning? Why are you-”, yawning, “-yelling? Why are you up?”. Then drops her hand, stops walking, and stares.

ClockWork grins, “hello Jasmine”.

“You... know my name?”.

Danny thumps his head on the table, “they know everything”, confirming who this was to her and Lewis really, while Danny bangs his head on the table repeatedly.

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

fall out of in love with me

kudos to @emo-disaster for the original idea of a reverse love potion, and to @an-absolute-failure for betaing

Summary: Deceit decides to do something about his feelings for Virgil. Warnings: potions/dubiously edible things being eaten (it’s flowers); remus being his remus self; brief poison mention (no poisoning actually happens); multiple instances of people being called idiots/dumb, mostly self-referential Wordcount:  2070 (who even am i)

“Cool,” Virgil said, flashing Deceit a peace sign and half smirk as he walked off, and Dee’s cheeks had no right to be blushing so hard like that. He managed a nod and a strangled sound that Virgil hopefully didn’t hear, then scrunched up his face at himself. What a disaster.

“Are you trying to get your face stuck like that?” Remus asked, popping up beside him. Ze examined his expression for a moment before nodding. “It’s perfect. You look like a dead wombat.”

“I’m totally trying to get it stuck in one expression, Remus, because that can even happen.” Deceit rolled his eyes.

“Awww, okay,” ze said. Ze pouted for a moment before hoisting zir morning star over zir shoulder. “Well, it’s been too long since I’ve surprised my brother, so. Bye!”

Deceit waved as ze left, then turned back to thinking about Virgil. Or more accurately, his problem with Virgil.

If he kept malfunctioning whenever Virgil was around, simply because he liked him, that would be… inconvenient, to say the least. Counterproductive to doing what he needed to get done. He needed some way to get rid of these feelings, at least for a while.

Maybe… a creative side could help with that? Certainly with summoning something to help, if such a thing existed.

Roman liked romance too much to help with that though; he’d just push Deceit to confess his feelings to Virgil, which wouldn’t help him get rid of them and was entirely too nerve-wracking to think about. Remus, though… Remus would probably be delighted to help get rid of romantic feelings.

Mind made up, Deceit ventured down to Remus’s room an hour or two later; by then ze’d be back from messing with Roman. And by then Deceit had come up with a more solid idea for what he could do to try and erase his feelings for Virgil.

“A reverse love potion?” Remus asked, eyes glittering excitedly. “You’d rather hate ol’ Virgey than be in love with him? That’d certainly be interesting…”

“Not hate him,” Deceit corrected. “Fall out of love with him. The potion would make it so I only like him platonically.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Remus breathes. “And you need me to help conjure this up for you, right? I can totally do that!” Ze summoned a giant black cauldron, rusty and covered with dirt, and began summoning objects and dropping them in.

“Make sure everything is edible by normal human standards, Remus,” Deceit warned.

“I will! Don’t worry!” Remus called over zir shoulder, muttering to zirself, “Flowers are edible for most people, right? They’re, like, a delicacy in France or something, they’re totally edible, yeah.”

“I don’t want to eat flowers, Remus,” Deceit told zir.

“But they symbolize friendship! They’re a necessary ingredient!” Remus protested. “Plus, I’m 90% sure snakes really like flowers, so I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Maybe because you’re making this potion up as you go and we don’t even know if it’ll work, so if I don’t want flowers in it then you can replace them with something else?”

“Pretty please?” Remus begged.

Deceit rolled his eyes. “Fine. But that’s the only weird ingredient you get to add.”

“Oh, sure, sure.” Remus nodded. Ze subtly fished something out of the cauldron—or more accurately, what ze thought was subtle, which meant ze was completely obvious about it—and vanished it. Deceit squinted suspiciously, but Remus grinned widely and said nothing, so he didn’t comment.

By that evening, the potion was finished. Remus proudly presented a vial of it to Deceit, who took it and eyed it dubiously. It was the neon bright highlighter shade of faintly green-tinged yellow, but it smelled like some type of flower he couldn’t quite identify and Deceit didn’t think Remus would actually poison him. And he’d decided to try this, so he was going to try this.

He took a deep breath and downed the liquid before he could second-guess it. Immediately his head spun and he stumbled a few steps until Remus caught his arms and steadied him.

“Well?” Ze asked.

“Give it a minute, I just took it,” Deceit told zir, slurring his words slightly. He was still dizzy, even with Remus helping steady him. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah! Yeah, yeah, hold on.” Remus waved zir hand. “Okay, you can just sit.” Deceit did, almost falling into a beanbag.

After a few minutes, the dizziness faded, and he slowly stood up.

“So? Did it work?” Remus asked, shoving zir face right up against Deceit’s. “I don’t see anything different.”

“How am I supposed to know? He’s not exactly here to prove it,” Deceit pointed out. Remus immediately conjured up a copy of Virgil, who smirked and leaned up in Deceit’s face.

“You wanna make out?” Copy Virgil asked lowly.

Deceit looked deadpan at Remus. “Virgil would never ask that. You have met him, right?”

Remus threw zir hands up and vanished the copy. “I don’t know romance stuff, okay! I’m just trying to help, tar and feather me and dip me into a live volcano.”

“Tar and feather you?” Deceit repeated. “What?”

“Like ‘sue me’? I improved it.”

“That’s… okay, whatever.”

“Anyway, do you think the potion worked?” Remus asked eagerly.

“I suppose.” As ridiculous as the copy of Virgil had been, it usually would’ve given Deceit that fluttery feeling in his chest, and it hadn’t. And thinking about the real Virgil also didn’t stir up the butterflies in his stomach like it would’ve 10 minutes before, before he took the potion. “Thank you for your help, Remus.”

“No problem, buddy!” Remus grinned a bit too widely.

“Never call me that again.”

“Okay, buddy!”

Deceit scoffed and left the room.

As he made his way back to his room, he considered the potion. He was pleased that it worked, of course, but he didn’t fancy repeating the vertigo any time soon, and they didn’t know how long the effects of the potion would last. Maybe in another 10 minutes or so the effects would wear off, and if that was the case it would be impractical to take it often enough to cancel out his feelings for Virgil.

And there was the fact that he... didn’t exactly mind being attracted to Virgil, most of the time. They were… a little bit fun, these feelings, when they weren’t inconveniencing him. So maybe he’d be better off not taking the potion again? He wasn’t sure.

Good thing he had time to think on it and come to a decision regarding the potion.

Deceit turned the corner, letting a smile play along his lips, and spotted Virgil. Standing outside his door, fidgeting with his jacket and looking nervous about something. He looked up and saw Deceit.

“Dee! Hi! I, uh, I had something I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh?” Deceit raised an eyebrow, shoving down the sinking suspicion that he knew exactly what Virgil wanted to tell him. “Do tell.”

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

Virgil took a deep breath. He could do this! He just… had to… tell Deceit about his crush on him… but he could do this!

“I, um, I like you. Romantically, that is, not just as a friend, though I like you as a friend too! And it’s okay if you don’t like me back, I understand, I just had to tell you, please don’t feel pressured to fake feelings for me or agree to be my boyfriend out of pity or something Ipromiseit’salrightifyoudon’tlikemelikethat.”

He winced, partially at the babbling and partially in anticipation for a response. When one didn’t come after a few long, nerve-wracking moments, he looked over at Deceit.

He was looking at him awkwardly, giving him a smile that looked decidedly fixed. So… he didn’t like Virgil back, then. He’d expected this. It still hurt.

Virgil fakes a smile. “Alright, then. I understand; you don’t have to say it.”

He walks past Deceit, trying not to cry as he makes his way to the privacy of his room.

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

Deceit was officially the biggest idiot ever.

“Remus!” He burst into zir room and flopped onto zir bed. “I’m an idiot.”

“What’ve you done in the five minutes you were gone?” Remus asked. “Not that I’m refuting your idiot status.”

“Virgil confessed his romantic feelings for me and I froze up, because how was I supposed to explain that I’d just taken a reverse love potion so I could stop being so in love with him for 10 minutes, and he happened to catch me while it’s still in effect so I don’t actually like him romantically right now even though I normally would? Except I paused for too long and now he thinks I was trying to figure out how to reject him nicely or something and I’ve really screwed everything up, haven’t I?”

Remus burst into laughter.

“Rude!” Deceit sat up, snatching a pillow and whacking zir with it. “I’m having a crisis here; have some sympathy! Oof.” Deceit flopped back down as his head both spun and started throbbing. “Well, this potion officially sucks.”

After a minute the dizziness faded, though his head still hurt pretty bad.

“Oh my gosh, I’m such an idiot,” Deceit repeated as the full horror of the situation hit him. “What if that was my one chance and now I’ve screwed it up?”

Remus finally calmed down from laughing and grabbed Deceit’s arm, hauling him up from the bed. “Come on.”

“Remus! I’ve still got a headache, you didn’t have to pull me up so hard! And where are we going?” Ze ignored him and dragged him over to Virgil’s room. “Oh my gosh, Remus, no, he probably hates me now—” Deceit cut off his complaints as Virgil opened his door.

Before Virgil could say anything, Remus said, “Hey! Dee over here is a dumdum and has such a big gay crush on you that he came to me and asked for me to make him a reverse love potion so he wouldn’t be head over heels for you for a bit, and you happened to catch him right after he took it, which is why he took so long to respond to your confession. Don’t worry, though! It’s all out of his system now, so when he tells you that he has a big gay crush on you and apologizes for making you think otherwise—which you will be doing, Dee, since you’re the one who had the idea and asked me to help you, which got you in this mess in the first place—then he really means it from the bottom of his big gay heart!”

“Did you have to phrase it like that?” Deceit hissed at zir, but ze just grinned, shoved him at Virgil, and skipped off.

Deceit turned back to Virgil, who looked at him tiredly and a little warily. His eyeshadow was smudged; had he been crying? Had he made Virgil cry? He didn’t think he could do this…

But Virgil was still looking at him expectantly, so instead of running away like he was vaguely considering, Deceit blurted out, “I’m really sorry!”

“It’s ok—” Virgil started.

“No, it’s really not,” Deceit protested, shaking his head. “I should’ve said something instead of just staring at you; I really do like you, a lot, and I should’ve told you that instead of letting you assume otherwise.”

“...Really?”

Deceit huffed out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Remus can tell you about it, if you want; we actually made a reverse love potion because I like you so much. It was still wearing off when you confessed to me, which is why I hesitated—though I still should’ve said something.”

“Yeah, that was kind of a jerk move.”

“A major jerk move.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “But you… made a potion to stop liking me?”

“It was an idiotic thing to do. And it’s worn off now, anyway, so it’s not a very effective potion,” Deceit told him. “I made a stupid choice deciding to make it, and a stupider choice deciding to drink it, and I regret it.”

“Okay,” Virgil said slowly, and nodded. “So… what does this mean?”

“Mean?”

“Like… between us.”

“It means that, if you’ll still have me, I’d be honored to be in a romantic relationship with you, Virgil.” Deceit told him.

“I’d like that,” Virgil said, twining their hands together. “Boyfriends?”

Deceit held up their joined hands and smiled at him. “Boyfriends.”

[spacesnail3000]

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart Chapter 15: Big Fucking Trouble—With a Capital T

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Chapter Summary: Steve has some real Anger Management Issues (capitalized for emphasis). Perhaps he should try some coping techniques, like deep breathing, or restorative yoga, or a hefty glass of straight whiskey.

Word Count: 4,660

Warnings: Language, violence, anger issues

A/N: So I know it's been quite a few weeks, and I'm sorry for taking so long to get the next chapter out! i've been swamped with assignments, and then Thanksgiving happened, and it's just been a hectic time so you'll have to forgive me. Big thanks to my beta, @jessieray98​ --she's AMAZING!!

Masterlist / AO3

“Do you think this is normal?” Bucky muttered to Steve the next night. It was dinnertime and Y/N was sitting at the table, staring blankly at the pizza in front of her.

She had been like this all day. Silent, brooding, sad. She had stayed in bed until noon; although Steve had wanted to wake her up earlier, Bucky convinced him to let her sleep in. They only woke her up when it was time for lunch, which she barely touched. Now at dinner, she still wasn’t eating, although they had ordered from her favorite pizza place.

Steve, who was at the counter with Bucky dishing up their own pizza, frowned, replying in a quiet voice that she couldn’t hear, “She’s gotta eat some time.”

“She’s grieving. If she doesn’t want to talk, we shouldn’t make her.”

“We can at least make her eat,” Steve grumbled, irate at the entire situation. They went to go sit next to her at the table.

“Ready to eat?” Bucky asked, trying to keep his tone cheerful. After Bucky and Steve had already finished their first slices, she still hadn’t taken a single bite of hers.

Steve was fed up, and of course, he had never been the best at controlling his temper. The tension had been building all day, and Bucky should have expected things to blow up soon enough. “Eat your damn food, Y/N,” Steve barked at her.

“I’m not hungry.” Her voice was hoarse from not speaking all day and from all the crying she had done when they weren’t looking.

“Can’t you just eat one slice?” Bucky coaxed, his voice soft. “Please?”

She clenched her jaw, a rush of anger towards Bucky surging through her. Stuffing it down into the depths of her chest, she tightened her hands into fists, trying her hardest to contain the rage within, body tense with the effort. “No,” she answered him shortly, afraid if she opened her mouth for any longer, she would let everything out, every vile thing she wanted to say to them.

Steve had just about had it. “Y/N,” he snapped, “You’re gonna eat a slice of that fucking pizza. Right. Now.”

“Or what?” The petulant girl before him maintained eye contact with him. Steve’s eyes flashed, the vein in his temple pulsing. She couldn’t help but challenge him. Maybe to show him that she wouldn’t bend to his will, maybe to see just what he would do about it.

He and Bucky were both on their feet at once. Steve started towards Y/N, hands ready to grab her by the hair, but Bucky stood in his path, stopping him from touching her.

“Steve,” Bucky grunted, using all his strength to hold Steve back, “Steve, think about this. Now is not the time!”

“The little brat needs to learn her place,” Steve snarled. Meanwhile, Y/N watched on, shocked. It was the first time Bucky had ever intervened in Steve teaching her a lesson. Even before that summer, back when Steve’s punishments didn’t involve sexual misconduct, Bucky had always allowed Steve to rebuke her and scold her to his heart’s content. But this wasn’t a matter of her disobeying little rules or being a brat. She wasn’t going to let them control her anymore.

“Go to bed,” Bucky ordered her in a low growl. She obeyed, not for the sake of following his orders, but because she couldn’t stand to be around Steve anymore. Scurrying to Bucky’s bedroom, she shut the door and locked it just as she heard the front door open and slam closed. The noise made her jump, and she rushed to get into Bucky’s bed,  curling up in his comforter. It smelled like him, his cologne, sandalwood and tobacco.

Despite her anger towards him now, her disgust at the man who helped kill her father, the scent brought back so many memories, and she let herself sink into them.

Snowy days curled up together watching movies, naps taken after school when she didn’t have swim practice, warm hugs and tender touches that didn’t mean anything more than friendship at the time. She and Bucky had always had fun together—he always seemed to encourage her rowdiness, her competitive side. Racing him downhill when they went on skiing trips, or competing who could do the most laps at the pool, or who could build the biggest sandcastle at the beach.

But Bucky was more than just that. Bucky was always her solace, not just a protector or guardian, but a source of comfort, peace. Memories of Bucky comforting her when her father yelled at her, distracting her while her father held tense mob meetings downstairs, keeping her safe when strange men came to their house, their predatory gazes pinned on her whenever she would enter the room. Not just safety, but security, especially when Steve wasn’t available to be that role for her.

Steve, on the other hand, had always been that rule maker, the one to lay down the law, to keep her safe at the expense of her happiness. At one point, he had been a friend, too, sweet and kind and coddling, albeit overprotective to a fault. But he certainly hadn’t always been angry and mean. She was 14 years old when his mother died, and that’s when Steve grew cold—not just with her, but with everyone.

Her memories of Steve before that were different. He always made sure she was fed, and warm, and safe, and happy. He used to pick her up every day after school and buy her food—hot dogs, or pizza, or ice cream, indulge her in whatever she chose. The only time he wasn’t kind to her was when she was a brat, and even then, he would reprimand her and then make it up to her afterwards with gentle words and hugs and treats to make up for it.

After his mother died, Tony took Steve under his wing, focused on him more than the other young men in the mob, groomed him to be cold and calculating and emotionless, just as a mob leader should be. The only emotion Steve was allowed to show was anger, all of his sadness bottled up inside him, waiting to be released as rage and violence.

Occasionally, she still saw glimpses of his old self. Those moments of softness became few and far between, and Y/N cherished them whenever they came. The locket he gave her for her birthday, the time he taught her how to paint, the morning cuddles they had shared just the other day—those rare moments of affection and kindness that she missed dearly, that she yearned for.

As sudden as the thought came, she berated herself for it. Steve had helped kill her father. She wasn’t supposed to want him, just like she wasn’t supposed to want Bucky. Her heart broke for the thousandth time as she recounted how sweet they could be. How could she ever reconcile that with their despicable actions?

Unable to help herself, she cried silently into Bucky’s pillow, until she fell into a light sleep.

Steve came back home a few hours later, knuckles bloody and bruised. In the meantime, Bucky had stress-eaten the entire pizza, half a tub of chocolate ice cream, and he was just considering whether to make a Cubano or a Reuben sandwich when the lock turned and Steve walked in.

Shiny with sweat, dirt all over his clothes, knuckles bruised and bloody, Bucky could tell that Steve had been beating something up. Or someone, based on his split lip and the cut above his eyebrow.

“Steve—”

Before Bucky could get a word in, Steve sent him a sharp glare, stormed into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut. By the time he heard the sound of the shower running, he had all of the ingredients out for both sandwiches and was hastily slathering mustard onto bread.

He craved the sandwiches of the deli down the street, but he felt wary about leaving Steve alone with their girl.

The entire situation made Bucky unbelievably anxious, especially since Steve had been such a menace the past few days. Sure, the man had a temper—anger issues, definitely—but it wasn’t usual for him to be so cross with Y/N, even when she was acting petulant and obnoxious. Now, though, the mob was in danger. The tension was so high, Steve’s stress was peaked, and it bled into his mood, making him much more volatile than usual.

Another component was that they had begun this relationship with her. Now that Steve felt a broader sense of ownership and responsibility over her, it was different; her anger and defiance and deliberate disobedience felt more personal somehow.

Her behavior annoyed Bucky, especially the night she had gone to Manhattan with Wanda, putting herself in danger so carelessly. However, for the most part, he was just concerned about her, and frustrated that he couldn’t do anything to help. He knew what it was like to lose parents, and he knew she would be going through the stages of grief. His mood had bounced all over the place in the immediate time after his parents died—until he had discovered unhealthy coping mechanisms, like sex and drugs and suppressing his emotions.

That had been years ago, and it had taken him a long time to get back to some sense of normalcy. He knew that she would be changed forever by this turn of events.

It broke his heart to see her like this. He hadn’t been with her for long—it had only been a week or so since their illicit relationship had begun, but Bucky already felt so strongly for her. He had only ever been in love with Steve—had never fallen out of love with him, to be honest—and he couldn’t help but think it felt much the same with Y/N.

Now wasn’t the time for that issue, though. He would only scare her away during her time of crisis and make everything worse.

By the time Bucky had made both sandwiches and mulled over the entire situation, the water in the bathroom turned off, and Bucky held his breath, waiting for Steve. He exited the bathroom along with a cloud of steam, a towel slung around his waist.

He looked miserable. The anger had worn off by then, leaving a sense of helplessness for the situation.

Steve sat on the couch, not bothering to put on clothes. “She’s never going to trust me.”

“Steve—”

“We did all of this wrong. Now I don’t know how to get a hold of her.” He couldn’t control her, and that’s what scared Steve the most. It scared him to the point of rage, to the point of violence.

Manipulating her had always been so easy. What had changed? Was it him? Had he lost his touch? Was he so terrifying now with the storm of uncontrolled anger and tension within, that he had lost her completely?

Or was it her? Was she old enough now to see him for who he really is?

And if that was the truth—well, no wonder she wanted nothing to do with him. Steve didn’t deserve anything as good as her.

Bucky sat beside him, sensing Steve’s self-doubt, his anger, his sadness. Steve always worked so hard to suppress the emotions, but Bucky could read him better than anyone. He couldn’t hide anything from Bucky.

“Here,” Bucky said, handing Steve the Cubano. “Eat up.”

And they ate the sandwiches, side by side, while the girl who owned their hearts slept in the next room.

The next morning proved to be even harder than the previous night.

“Darling. Honey. Sweetheart.” Bucky was given the task of waking Y/N up for the funeral. Steve stood in the doorway, observing, determined not to get involved. “You gotta wake up. You need to get ready.”

She grunted and shoved his hand away from stroking her hair. “No.”

“The funeral is in an hour. We need to get ready to go.”

“I’m not going.”

Bucky released a breath through his nose. “Honey, I know you’re mad at him. I know he did terrible things. But this is the last time you’re going to be able to get any closure with him. You need to go to the funeral.”

“I’m. Not. Going.”

“You’re gonna be mad for a long time, that’s not gonna change, but in the long run, this will help with—”

“Bucky, I’m not fucking going!” she yelled, smacking his hand away from her. “Leave me the fuck alone!”

Rage boiled through Steve, a dangerous drug, a familiar old friend. He couldn’t stop it. “Y/N,” he seethed through clenched teeth, “Get up, you are going to the goddamn funeral.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Everyone is expecting you to be there!” he shouted, losing his temper once again.

Well, Y/N had a temper of her own, and after stewing in her rage all night, she was ready to yell at Steve for any reason. “Fuck you! You can’t make me go, Steve!” she sneered his name with so much disrespect, and Bucky only blinked once before Steve was on her, hand in her hair, dragging her out of bed. Her shrieks echoed throughout the apartment as Steve pulled her into the bathroom, and she scrambled behind him every step of the way, nails clawing at his wrist, trying in vain to keep up with his long strides.

He tossed her in the tub and twisted the shower knob with enough force to yank it off, and once cold water started to spray down on her, her yells only increased in volume, curse words and rude names sprinkled in liberally, language that they had rarely heard her use before.

“You fucking asshole, stop it! Let me go! I’m not going to the—"

Steve ignored the verbal onslaught, crouching down and trying to pull her clothes off. “Help me out, Buck,” Steve grunted when her flailing limbs became too much to handle. Bucky held her down, thwarting each attempted punch and kick, while Steve managed to get all of her clothes off. By the time she was nude, her face was flushed and angry tears began to well up in her eyes.

“Fuck both of you! You’re both bastards! I can’t believe I ever liked you—”

Steve silenced her by aiming the detachable showerhead directly at her face, making her cough and splutter as she got a lungful of water. It provided enough of a distraction for Bucky to start shampooing her hair while Steve scrubbed a bar of soap over her skin. All the while, her tears fell, but her tirade did not lighten between her sobs.

“This will be good for you in the long run,” Bucky said evenly as he washed her hair.

“No it won’t!” she growled, thrashing in their grip until Steve held her down with soapy hands, a bruising grip on her wrists.

“Calm the fuck down,” he grunted, “You’re going to the fucking funeral, you little brat, so help me—"

“You’re horrible!” she wailed, chest heaving as she gulped in more air. “You’re horrible, and despicable, and degenerate—and—and—and your mother would’ve been so disappointed in you Steve—”

Wasting no time, Steve silenced her with his fist against her face, something in between a punch and a slap that left her collapsed at the bottom of the tub, ears ringing, vision blacking out for a moment while she regained her wits.

Bucky pulled her back up, not to comfort her, but to continue bathing her. Rinsing his hands, he swiped his fingers against her aching cheek where Steve had left milky suds against angry red flesh, then continued scrubbing conditioner into her hair. “Tip your head back,” he instructed her, an impassive expression plastered on his face, guiding her head back with utilitarian movements. Not too gentle but not rough, either.

Towering above her, Steve met her gaze. She had never seen him look at her like that before—not just anger, but wrath and disgust written across his features. “Don’t you ever talk about my mother again.” His tone was low, threatening, and his eyes shone with hatred or tears or something else she couldn’t tell.

He stormed out of the bathroom then, and she resumed crying, silently this time.

Bucky didn’t have much sympathy for her, not when she delivered such a low blow. He continued his soothing actions of rinsing out her conditioner, then grabbed the bar of soap to continue washing her body. “You shouldn’t have mentioned his mother.”

I know, she thought. “I don’t care,” she replied with a sullen sniffle, taking the soap bar from him.

“Can you do this yourself?” he asked.

“Yes,” she gritted. “You can leave.”

“Don’t take too long.”

As she scrubbed her skin with the soap, shivering from the frigid temperature of the water, she thought about what might happen at the funeral.

The Catholic traditions her family subscribed to mandate a wake, which was to take place that morning. Then the hour-long Mass to follow, and then the funeral afterwards. There would be so many people from the mob there—they would probably be the only ones in attendance, in fact.

Her father’s parents were no longer alive, and he had no siblings or other family. Her mother wouldn’t be there, of course—and her mother had no family left that cared about Obadiah.

Aside from the mob, who else did Obadiah have?

She didn’t want to see any of the mob, especially not for these funeral proceedings that would take hours. Her father had somehow betrayed them, and then they arranged for his death. Where did that leave her?

It was sure to be long, and tortuous, and painful, and…

Well, she had no intention of going either way.

She turned up the hot water and sat back, letting the stream warm her up and relax her muscles.

Twenty minutes passed and she still hadn’t come out or even turned off the shower, and Bucky was starting to get anxious again. Steve, on the other hand, was seething as Bucky tied his tie for him, a half-Windsor knot tied to perfection.

“Some nerve she has,” he hissed, every muscle in his body tensed up in the effort not to punch something—again. He had put a hole through the kitchen drywall after exiting the bathroom. “What’re we gonna do with her, Buck?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky sighed as he tightened the knot up to Steve’s throat. “But now is not the time. We just need to get through this funeral—that’s it.”

“Well if she doesn’t come out soon, we’re going to be late.”

“I’m sure she’d be pleased with that,” Bucky muttered, leaving Steve’s bedroom and approaching the bathroom door. “Honey, time’s up,” he called, knocking gently on the wood. When he tried to open it, it was locked. There was no answer from her.

“Tony’s on his way,” Steve said, coming out of his bedroom, tapping on his phone. “She ready?”

“She locked herself in.”

Steve’s phone might have cracked from the force he gripped it at that news, face flushing again with anger. With how many mood swings he was having in that morning alone, Bucky wondered if he should be worried for Steve’s blood pressure. Steve stormed up to the bathroom door and practically pressed himself flat against it. “Y/N!” he shouted, pounding his fist on the door, the wood rattling against the doorframe. “Open up this door, now! You’re in big fucking trouble!”

Still no response.

Big fucking Trouble—with a capital T.

A stifling panic began to creep over Bucky, a fleeting concern that maybe she had done something—something thoughtless, although she had never had a propensity for self-harm, these were dire times and God knows what was going through her mind—

Steve was yelling again—had never really stopped. “Answer me or I’m gonna break this fucking door down and—”

“Leave me alone!” came her despaired cry. “Go to the funeral without me, I’m not going!”

Relief flooded through Bucky’s mind, thankful at least that the worst-case scenario hadn’t happened.

“You little bitch, you are not going to ruin this today!” Just as Steve reared back to burst through the door, Bucky placed a calming hand on his back. “Steve, let’s just wait for Tony. Maybe he can talk some sense into her.”

“He can try…” Steve grumbled, turning around and storming into the kitchen. “I need a drink…”

“Yeah you do,” Bucky said under his breath. Steve didn’t hear. Bucky felt like he needed a drink, too.

It was only 8:30 a.m.

About ten minutes passed before the buzzer rang, and Bucky let Tony up promptly.

Tony let himself into the house. “How’s she doing?” he asked in a hushed voice. Then he registered the sound of water from the bathroom. “Wait—is she in the shower? She’s not ready yet?” Steve handed Tony a glass of scotch and poured himself another glass. Tony glanced between the glass, Steve’s expression (which could only be described as royally pissed off), and the bathroom door. “What the fuck is going on?”

“She’s being uncooperative,” Bucky said.

Steve snorted. “Uncooperative is putting it lightly. She’s a downright nightmare.”

“She’s being a little combative, using some vulgar language—”

“A little?” Steve rolled his eyes.  “Listen, she’s refusing to go to the damn funeral, and she locked herself in the bathroom.”

“Oh boy.” Tony sighed, drained his scotch, and rubbed a hand down his face. Then he moved towards the bathroom door, muttering to himself. “It’s only eight in the morning and I already have to deal with this shit. Should’ve known Obadiah Stane’s funeral couldn’t go smoothly. He always manages to fuck something up, even in the afterlife.”

Then he knocked gently on the door. “Hey kid, it’s Tony.”

“Go away!” The girl inside shouted, and something thumped against the door, like she had thrown something against it. Bucky thought it sounded like a shampoo bottle.

“Jesus,” Tony muttered, glaring at the other men in the room. “You really worked her up, didn’t you?”

Steve pointed his finger accusingly at the door. “She’s a fucking brat. You try to control her and see if it turns out any better.”

Tony rolled his eyes, then knocked again, harder. “Listen, you’re gonna turn the water off and put on some clothes and then we’re going to have a nice long chat about your behavior. If you don’t come out in the next two minutes, I’m busting this door down and I know you don’t want me to see you naked. So hustle.”

Much to the surprise of all the men in the room, the running water ceased, and a few minutes later, she came out, hair wrapped in a towel and body wrapped in Bucky’s flannel robe. It was way too big for her, the hem dropping to the floor, the sleeves encompassing her hands. Bucky would’ve thought she looked cute if she didn’t look like a tea kettle ready to boil over.

“I’m not going to that man’s funeral, and you can’t make me.”

Tony sighed. “Can we skip all the ‘he’s not my father’ bullshit and get straight to the point? There are people from the mob expecting you there to represent your family. This funeral means more than just you, so you’re going to stop being an insolent brat and get ready to go. We’re already going to be late for the wake.”

She laughed, mean and cruel and so unlike the girl they knew. “I’m fresh out of fucks to give about what the mob expects from me. I expected both my parents to be here for me as I’m growing up, but that’s not possible anymore, so.”

“You think you’re the only person in the mob with a tragic backstory? Abusive, absent parents? Parents dying? Read the room, kid.”

She glanced at all three men, anger flowing out of their eyes.

Tony continued. “You have a responsibility to the mob. We’re your family and we always will be—you can’t escape it, so put on your big girl panties and your funeral dress so we can get to the church on time!”

She sneered. “You’re not my family. And I have no responsibility to you.” Then she retreated into Bucky’s bedroom. Tony followed quickly and caught the door as she tried to slam it shut.

“Get out!”

Tony was getting desperate. “What will it take to get you to go to this funeral? I’ll literally give you anything you want.”

Her eyes lit up with something, and Tony knew he was speaking her language. Spoiled and pampered her entire life (with mob money, Tony restrained himself from pointing out), bargaining was the only way to get her to cooperate, especially with such a large-scale tantrum as this.

“I want to go to NYU.”

Well, Steve and Bucky didn’t like that.

“That’s completely out of the question!”

“How the hell are we supposed to protect you if you’re off in Manhattan?”

Her retort was sharp and bitter, “Oh and you’ve been doing such a good job of protecting me now? I’m gonna have a bruise on my face from your fist, Steve, or did you conveniently forget about that once Tony arrived?”

Tony groaned, rubbing his temples, then ushered her into the bedroom. “Can’t fucking think with you children shouting at each other!” He forcefully pushed her on the bed and she bounced a little as he began to pace around the room. “So they’ve been hitting you? That’s why you want to go to NYU?”

She swallowed down her nerves and glared at him. “I have a scholarship, Tony—I’m not just going to throw it away!”

Tony shook his head. “Your father was never going to let you go. He was going to marry you off to someone in another gang.”

She smiled, bitter. “I’m not surprised. But now he’s out of the picture. I’m 18, Tony, I can do whatever I want.” When Tony didn’t answer, she frowned. “Unless you were planning on doing that exact same thing?”

He shook his head. “Not to just anyone. You already seem to get along with Steve and Bucky. What about one of them?”

She shook her head, vehemence leaving her tone and desperation taking its place. “No, Tony, please don’t make me marry them! I couldn’t live with that!”

“That’s a little dramatic. You know, a few slaps and punches are less than what a lot of mob wives get. Your own mother included.”

“It’s not just that!” She exclaimed before she could think better if it and shut her mouth.

Tony waited for her to elaborate. “What else could it possibly be?”

She shook her head, then laughed. “I know they helped kill him. My father. I can’t marry the men who did that.”

Tony sighed and sat next to her on the bed. “You know, they technically didn’t kill him. They were just the lookout—“

“Oh, don’t try to rationalize it, Tony! They participated in the murder of my father—“

“Oh, so he’s your father now? What happened to all that crap about your biological father?”

Fed up, she jumped up from the bed and faced him, yelling out, “I refuse to live with murderers, Tony! That’s where I draw the line!”

Then it was quiet, and they both knew that Steve and Bucky likely heard her outburst.

Tony finally broke the silence. “NYU? Really?”

“Yes. I want to go to NYU and live in Manhattan. And if you don’t accept these terms,” she thought for a moment, “I’m going to make such a big scene at the funeral that you’re going to wish I had just stayed home.”

Well. He didn’t really have a choice, now did he?