#anyone who knows what the red scarf is in reference to gets a cookie~

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 20

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 4,019 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Well my head is dead and my mind is fed up of all this stupid time That has dropped off the clock and I've avoided the knock From the monster that's been running my life He's ugly as hell and well, his heart is broken His eyes tell a tale with words unspoken He dreams of a day when he can honestly say he's alright

-This Love, “Free”

————————–

Then.

“What do you mean you guys haven’t kissed yet?”

The end of December was drawing near, and they had just finished with first semester finals.  The four of them trekked through fresh snow back to the dorms, Steph and Cass taking the lead while Conner and Tim tailed behind, the latter lingering a distance so as not to let the girls overhear their conversation.  Tim watched as the blonde in front of him stretched her arms to the air, blissfully exclaiming: “Ahh freedom at last~” before anxiously asking her friend what she got on one of the more difficult Physics questions.

“It just… hasn’t really come up…  We’ve been studying so much since then, there’s never been a good time…”

Conner shook his head.

“Dude, that’s no excuse.  You gotta keep her satisfied if you plan to hold onto her past holiday break. Sometimes you just gotta go for these things, man.”  He paused, clapping a hand on his companion’s shoulder as he suggestively leaned in closer.  “Listen, Christmas is coming; that means mistletoe season.  It’s a prime opportunity.  If you want, I can totally set something up for you two…”

“I don’t need your assistance.”

Although Tim scoffed at his roomie’s waggling eyebrows, the worry of not measuring up to expectations had been weighing substantially on him over the past few weeks.  Dick kept trying to push him to be more assertive as well, and had even insisted on lending him a collection of certain kinds of “magazines” as “reference material”…

“Hey, what are you boys whispering about back there?”

Stephanie had swiveled around and approached the pair, suspicious of Conner’s smirk and Tim’s evidently embarrassed expression.

“You wouldn’t be bullying my boyfriend, now would you?”

She wrapped herself protectively – possessively – around Tim, who bloomed an intense shade of pink at suddenly finding himself being fought over.

“Me?  A bully?  Wherever would you get that idea?”

Conner whistled innocently, while Cassandra observed the three in silence.  Tim shot her a pleading look to get him out of this predicament, thinking “free me” as hard as he could, but she simply smiled slightly.  Damnit, was she actually amused by his humiliation?

“Tim, don’t listen to what that mean ol’ brute says.”  Steph squished her mortified prize tightly, magnifying his discomfiture further as she stuck her tongue out at her opponent, who huffed in indignation.

“Please, if I were actually a bully, I’d do something like this.”

Without warning, he stooped to scoop up a clump of crystal flakes, flinging the freezing projectile at Stephanie, who screeched and released in order to defend herself.

“Why you-”

She laughed like a shriek as she shivered and shook the ice shavings out of her mane, crouching to collect ammo herself.  Packing heat – or rather coldness in this case – as she launched a quick counterattack. They began pelting each other gleefully with polar pellets, while Tim spectated uncertainly, wavering whether to break the battle up…  Until a wayward missile errantly missed its mark, instead splatting straight onto his face.

“…Ah.”

The combatants immobilized, glancing in nervous remorse at the unintended casualty, who stood there in complete shock for a moment.  Stephanie instantly flashed back to the water gun incident, and gulped apprehensively, afraid they might’ve made another mistake.  (At least she wasn’t entirely the one to blame this time.)

As before, Tim wordlessly wiped the wetness dripping down his cheek – before calmly bending down and gathering a lump to lob right back at his assailant.  Conner yelped as the unanticipated retaliation caught him by surprise, while Steph burst into an excited beam.

“Boo-yah!  Tim’s on my team!”

She eagerly declared as she aided her partner in an aggressive revenge, ruthlessly ganging up on their target as he raised his hands in a desperate attempt to shield himself.

“Hey, no fair!  Cass, help me!”

Fair?  They were up against a superhuman and a psychic, Tim privately thought to himself.  Although to be fair, Cassandra denied the other’s turn to beg for mercy, merely casting a lolling glimpse that quite plainly said: “You brought this on yourself, mister.  Now deal with the consequences.”  …As she simply sidestepped any stray shrapnel without choosing sides.

As they clobbered each other with clods of frost, people stopped and gawked at the infamous group of so-called “freaks” playing enthusiastically like little kids in the courtyard, but none of said shunned subjects even cared, too engrossed in their game to pay patronizing passersby any heed.  Tim could sense his self-consciousness slipping away as he pitched and dodged, slipping back into old practiced habits of evading punches and bullets.  The exhilaration he felt now was perhaps even more fulfilling though, without real risk of legitimate danger to his life or others’.  …When he witnessed Steph was right in the path of a sizeable snowball’s trajectory though, he dove on instinct, tackling directly to the ground.

He blinked as they abruptly found their features so very near to each other, flushed and respiring heavily from combined adrenaline and chill.  Rapidly beating hearts and heat of their bodies connecting through thick sugarcoated layers.  He could distinguish individual flecks of powder from the fluffy pile they had landed on dusting her long lashes as they fluttered up at her “hero”, feathery and fair. Complexion as rosy as her lips, waiting with bated breath.  Tim swallowed, before hastily rolling off.

“S- sorry.”

Stephanie sighed at the release of pressure, flopping back in familiar disappointment.  She soon started giggling though, and before long Tim joined her as they took a timeout to just lie there laughing for a minute. …And maybe after a while he’s laughing a little too loud and too long, but by God it felt good to let his happiness out uninhibited like this, after so many years of holding himself back.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun.

As soon as the chuckles subsided and they sat up though, Stephanie was startled by a sudden smack to her temple.  At first they both assumed it was a signal of resuming the bout, but for some reason the assault seemed a lot harsher and more painful than before.

“Ow!”

She cringed on contact. Tim’s pupils widened when he saw scarlet seeping down her forehead, staining the rich white beneath them. …Where a rock jutted out from the bank.

“Steph, you’re – you’re bleeding…”

She touched a finger to her brow in disbelief, stunned to discover drops of crimson come off on her tip. Tim spun around towards Conner, who immediately denied any involvement, shaking his head in equal horror.

“Tim, I swear to God, bud, it wasn’t me.”

Tim swerved and glared angrily at their surroundings, as every member in the audience awkwardly averted their gaze.  He grabbed the stone and stood up, grip so severe it stabbed into his own flesh.

“Who the fuck threw that?!”

He shouted at a volume high enough for the entire yard to hear, likely disturbing some of the classes where students were still testing as well.  He didn’t give a shit about that though, seething to the core.  Doubt darted in every whispering, snickering direction, until his vision landed on their other comrade, who remained oddly mute even in this situation.  His perception narrowed.  She didn’t look guilty per se (and he refused to believe she would ever dare renege on her pledge to never do anything to harm Steph), but something about her shifty, shrinking appearance told him she was definitely hiding something.

“…You know who did it, don’t you?  You can tell.”

Cassandra bit her lip, declining to answer.  Tim stalked towards her, seizing her shoulders roughly as he demanded a response.

“Tell me who it was – right now.”

“I…”

She winced at the strength of his clutch, cowering under his looming fury. Conner’s own lion rage awakened as he lunged forth to fasten around Tim’s wrist like a vice, violently pulling him away with a far greater force.

“Oi, get away from her!”  He barked as he twisted Tim around, locking both limbs in a firm hold.  “You need to cool it.”

Tim’s view darkened with a grim pall, as he lowered to avoid meeting the larger male’s lecturing look.

“Let go of me, Conner.”

He growled, glowering defiantly.

“And what’ll you do if I release you?  Supposing you do find out the culprit?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”  Tim’s irises flared dangerously.  “I’ll beat ‘em to a bloody pulp.”

“And then what?  Get your ass suspended again?  Kicked out? Lose your scholarship?”  Conner hissed in a cruel, but concerned tone. “Stop and think for a damn second, will you?”

Tim scowled, but eventually his fist uncoiled.  Conner loosened a little, relaxing as Tim’s appendage obediently descended.  Stephanie spoke up softly.

“It’s all right, guys.  I’m okay, really…”

There was liquid leaking through her cupped palm though, and Tim bristled again, but Conner clamped him down, resolutely shaking his head.

“Let it go, Tim.  Let’s just get her to the infirmary.”

Conner offered his hand to help her up, while Tim looked on uselessly. He eluded Steph’s perspective as he stuffed his own empty paws into his pockets.

“You guys go on ahead,” he muttered.  “I’m gonna… go cool off.”

“Tim?  Wait, where are you going?”

Stephanie strove to stop him, struggling against Conner’s support, but Tim had already taken off, escaping towards the dormitories.  When he reached his room, he slumped against the entry, sinking to the floor with his own cranium cradled in his hands.  Reflecting back on his confrontation with Cassandra, for even though she hadn’t acknowledged anything aloud, he could still hear the reluctant reply resounding inside his brain:

…They had been aiming for you.

“Goddamnit!”

He revolved and pounded his knuckles into the wall, not caring if he caused any damage to either it or himself.  Another voice murmured mildly beside his ear, smooth and satiated by the display of outright hostility.  Insanity.  Delightedly feeding on such delicious despair and self-loathing.

Now you see what happens when you get close to others?  Let this be a lesson to you, JJ.  Don’t you get it?  You’re a blight, diseased.  A dirty, perverted curse that contaminates, taints every single thing you touch – nothing but a burden, who brings suffering to everyone around you.  A monster just like me.

“Get.  Out.  Of. My.  Head.”

Tim screamed as he slammed his skull against the partition to try and get it to shut up, and when that didn’t work, he hurled himself onto the bed, trying to cover his crown with the pillow. Of course it didn’t succeed in suppressing the scalding speech either though, slowly consuming, corroding his corrupted soul from the inside out.

You’re toxic.  Don’t forget that.  Your existence is poison – pure and simple.  I’m the only one who can withstand it.  You don’t need them.  Nor do you belong with them.  Come back to me, my darling.  Daddy will make it all better, I promise…

“Leave.  Me.  ALONE!”

Tim yelled at the top of his lungs as he chucked the cushion at his hallucination, who only hovered out of the way and cackled.  The boy buried his visage into the sheets, smothering his polluted presence, shoulders shuddering as he began to laugh like crazy again – until he cried.

…

Some time later, he heard a knock on the door as it creaked open cautiously. He didn’t elevate to look, but he knew Conner was standing there, taking in the pathetic sight of his flatmate flat on the mattress.

“Yo.”

He entered, closing the access behind him as he crossed over and sat down gently next to Tim.  After an uncomfortable gap, he cleared his throat.

“Cass reported the one who did it to the dean.  They won’t be coming back after break.  …She told me what happened.  It’s not your fault, man.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

Tim spat as he flipped over, sleeve still shrouding his inflamed eyes. At length he removed a fraction of fabric though to peek at the other boy’s back, inquiring fretfully:

“…How is she?”

“They’re treating her at the nurse’s office.  It’s not as bad as it looks.  She’ll be fine,” Conner reassured.  “She kept asking after you though.  She’s worried about you, bro.  …We all are.”

Tim said nothing, scrutinizing the ceiling.

“She wants to see you.”

“I don’t… deserve to see her.”  Tim choked, eyes welling up again.  “How can I face her like this?”

Conner’s countenance soured as he started to lose patience, resorting to somewhat stricter tactics in an effort to snap him out of it.

“Stop being a selfish prick. This isn’t about you.  It’s about what she needs.  And right now she needs you.  So stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself, get the fuck up, and go see your goddamn girlfriend before I fucking kick your ass.”

He snatched Tim’s collar as he said this, in order to prove he would make good on the threat if necessary, hoisting the sagging sad sack up and half-heaving him towards the exit.

“I’ll help you get started on packing, so go.  And don’t come back until you’ve apologized for leaving her alone.”

With that, he swung the doorway shut, bolting it determinedly behind Tim, who stood there dumbfounded in the hall as curious onlookers halted their own parting proceedings to goggle at him, gossiping in a susurrant hush.  Shuffling sheepishly, he complied to abide by the directive for now, advancing in the direction of the health center (recalling its location from when he himself had to be carried there following his “fainting spell”).

When he arrived at the entrance, he waffled for a long while, inhaling deeply before finally rotating the handle.  The clinical smell that greeted him made his stomach sick at first, but he shoved revulsion down and quietly asked the receptionist on staff as to the whereabouts of the patient he was seeking.  She smiled and pointed him towards a curtain in the rear.  Upon lifting it back, he encountered Stephanie propped up on a cot, dome swathed in bandages in a manner that rather resembled his own injured image shortly after they first “met”.  She relieved visibly upon recognizing the visitor.

“Tim!  Thank God you’re here.  I was beginning to get bored out of my friggin’ mind.  Can you believe they’re making me stay in a bed while they run some tests?  It’s just a tiny cut, c’mon.  Plus it’s the last day of school before winter vacation.  We should be out celebrating right now.”

She bounced restlessly on the bedding, as Tim absorbed the ruby dye soaking through her dressing.  He clenched his fist in crushing shame and repentance.

“I think… maybe we should stop seeing each other.”

She stiffened sharply, fixing him with a flabbergasted gape.

“…What?  Just now, that was… a joke, right?  You’re not serious?”

He regarded her with a grave grimace.  Confusion and dejection distressed her chest at such curt rejection.

“Tim Drake, are you actually breaking up with me?”

“Yes.  Let’s break up.”

There was zero emotion in his tenor, as her own lips quivered, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“But…  But why?”

Tim exhaled as he spouted was probably the most cliché line in the history of bad breakups, but he didn’t really care about circumventing social pitfalls right now.

“It’s not you, it’s me.  I mean it. Nothing… good can come of being with me. I’ll only end up dragging you down.”

“Tim, don’t say that…”

“You got hurt because of me.  Besides, I… can’t do anything to make you happy.  Believe me, you’d be a whole lot better off without me in your life.”

“Tim…”

She tried to extend towards his hand, but he backed away.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned and fled before she could react, leaving her bewildered and brokenhearted beyond belief.  His own breast ached as it felt like something within him had shattered – shred into pieces once again.  Whatever light had been reignited was now eclipsed, extinguished by his own hand.  He should have known better, never tried to chase it in the first place.  Having been burned once before, only an utter fool would run right back into the flames.

…This is for the best.

For both of them.

…

It didn’t take long for Tim to realize he couldn’t well return to the residence hall without invoking his roommate’s wrath, so he was stuck outside for the time being.  Wandering back to the quad, he massaged his mitts together and blew out a puff of condensation, briefly wishing he still had some actual smokes on him right now.

Parking himself beneath the shadow of a barren tree, he idly surveyed the scene of classmates bidding goodbye before heading home for the holidays.  Some were being picked up by their parents, and his intestines constricted a tad more as the swarm of “normies” joyfully received their relatives whom they hadn’t seen in so long with hugs and ecstatic chatter.  He felt filthy – a black and ugly beetle, insignificant insect – petty and out of place compared to these bright, carefree families.  So Hallmark picture-perfect against a pristine postcard background, shining silver and gold.

Acquiring a fallen branch, he started to scratch absently at the slush, doodling a nostalgic depiction in the dirt.  Gradually, the symbol of a bat took shape – and beside it, a crude carving of two beings in capes – one big, one small.  He stared sullenly at the sketch for a minute, before striking the stick simultaneously through both stick figures’ axes in an “X”.

“Tim?”

He jumped, and hurriedly scraped over the rest of the illustration with his heel as he whirled around to face his… well, he supposed “ex” would indeed be the proper term to describe her now.

“Steph?  What are you doing here?”

“I managed to convince them to let me go.  Wanted to catch you before you left at least.”

She fumbled with a parcel in her hands.

“I know it’s kinda early, but… I wanted to give you your Christmas present. Didn’t want it to just go to waste, after I worked so hard on it and all.”

She fished inside the bag, and retrieved a folded red scarf.  It looked a little lumpy and misshapen, clearly clumsily homemade rather than a commercial product.

“Mom’s been teaching me how to knit.  It’s my first time making one, so it’s not very good, but I hope you’ll still wear it, and… think of me sometimes.  I guess now you could consider it something to remember me by?”

Tim remained reticent as she unraveled the muffler and draped it around his nape, tucking it tenderly so it was snug.  She reviewed her handiwork, nodding in admiring approval.

“As I thought.  You look good in red.”

Tim tugged the textile, fingering each fiber that was filled with such fondness – feeling his own thawing heartstrings being tugged at – torn.

“Why… would you go to all this trouble – for someone like me?”

She smiled.

“Isn’t it obvious?  It’s because I love you.”

…

“Eh?”

It took a bit for the statement to sink in, and the cloth’s color seemed to creep up his mug as the significance of the confession belatedly registered. She took his trembling skin in hers, keeping it cozy as his now cherished neck was.

“Plus I wanted to pay you back for letting me borrow your jacket,” she half-kidded, concealing her own blush behind blithe humor.

He shook his head.

“This is… too good for me.  You’re too good for me.  You shouldn’t have wasted your time…”

“Tim, how many times do I have to tell you?”  She squeezed his palm, praying he’d actually listen to – believe her for once.  Believe in himself. “You’re so much better than you think you are.  You’re kind, sweet, and caring – you’re not like any other guy I’ve dated before.  I like you for you, no matter what you or anyone else says.  If other people can’t see that, then to hell with all of them.”

He held her resolve for a long interval, before shyly expressing regret over his actions.

“Steph, I-”

She put a pointer to his lips before he could progress.

“Sh.  You’re forgiven.  Now let us never speak of splitting up over something minor like this again.”

Softening, she added:

“As for what I said before, you don’t need to answer me back right away. We don’t have to rush into anything if you’re not ready for it yet.  I’m happy so long as you’re happy.  As long as we’re together, that’s good enough for me.”

She boosted onto her boots’ toes to provide him an affectionate side-peck, sniggering as his cherry virtue exposed further at the gesture.  Yup, red really was his hue, it seemed.  …It suited him (more than he’d ever care – dare – to admit).

She started to separate, but he grasped back, bowing profoundly towards her as if to an angel.

“What… did I ever do to deserve you?”

He beseeched sincerely for a sign – that it was really okay for him to accept this much adoration from someone.

“Who knows,” she teased with a smug shrug, basking indulgently in flattering worship as she winked.  “Maybe it’s karma from a past life or something.”

Patting his hair like a puppy, she dotingly brushed off some sunken pearl beads from the strands – like a laurel of tinsel to match her own heavenly halo; planting another precious token on top in pardoned blessing – a starry seraph ornament – before bidding him rise.  As they strolled back to the quarters together, limbs still linked together in open broadcast of their bond, Steph piped up with another proposal.

“By the way, I wanted to ask you something else: I was wondering…  Do you want to come spend Christmas at my place? I already invited Cass to stay overnight on Christmas Eve, and Conner said he’d come too if you would.  Can you imagine it, both of them said they don’t have any plans this year, and that their folks were out of town.  I mean, what’s up with that?”  She shook her head.  “Christmas is supposed to be a time for people to spend together.  No one should have to be alone during the holidays.”

For the fleetest of seconds, an impression intruded on Tim’s conscience; of a solitary man holed up all by himself in a huge, vacant manor atop an isolated hill, hunched by the fireplace with a glass of brandy in hand, longing wistfully at his mother’s and father’s memorial portrait overlooking the mantle.  He urged it aside though, and smiled appreciatively at the offer.

“I’d love to.”  A nagging notion occurred however, as he agonized over accommodations on her behalf. “…Can your house really fit that many people though?”

She put on a persevering aura, pumping her fist.

“We’ll make it work somehow.  Worst comes to worst, we’ll just have to share some beds.”

He arrested in alarm at what she just said, as the implications dawned on both of them.  Steph swiftly endeavored to clarify, flailing and failing miserably.

“Uh, I mean, Cass and I can share a bed, of course!  I wasn’t insinuating anything else by it…”

The tables had reversed now as Tim snorted at her chagrin, and she grinned as well, goading his arm.  Clinging around it, she nuzzled up intimately against his shoulder, both marveling at the broad sky as it started to shed sparkling glitter again.  Safely cocooned by both her company and the gift she had granted him, there was no space left for someone else to come between; waking, walking nightmare to worm its way into his warmed spirit.

…And, for the first time in a long time, what he feels isn’t fear anymore – at allowing a new stranger into his narrowly confined world once again.  Chip through frigid barriers and sculpture’s solid shell in order to stir up the dormant globe – revive its stalled clock, frozen in stasis for so long.  Finally melting an age of presumed permafrost; nudging, encouraging cold feet to steadily begin moving forward again.

…

It’s hope.

————————–

Well keep it in mind I'm not as stable or able To use all my guts and turn over the tables Or open the door and stare the monster between the eyes But the times have turned and burned a hole in this heart Confronted the face of what tore my life apart And I'll start by living every moment like it was my last

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes:

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR

Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.

“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”

This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof. 

You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door. 

He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up. 

You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?

An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.

You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.

Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.

You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at. 

To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid. 

You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.

It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite. 

Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.

It took three days for Frankie to break.

You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.

"You never talk about it."

You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.

"Talk about what?"

He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.

Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.

"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.

"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."

With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."

Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.

Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.

"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."

"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"

"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face. 

"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."

"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."

Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.

"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.

The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.

The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.

Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.

It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.

"I've met men like that," 

You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud. 

Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.

"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."

Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you. 

Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch. 

"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."

Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.

"Please. Stay."

Part SIX

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[funtimebunnyblog]

How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o who’s pretty innocent and a loveable ray of sunshine? Just the sweetest soul ever. Never having any ill intentions towards anyone ever, even if they’re mean to her. S/o has a lot of empathy and is just Disney princess level of kindness and nurturing. Sorry if that’s specific. I just always love the trope for couple that are opposites attract.

Did you mean: H O L L Y K U J O ???

Holly: Jotaro, make sure you eat all your vegetables 🥰 Jotaro: *is about to tell her to F*** off* All 4 of his new Pillarmen step-dads: 😡😡😡😡 Jotaro: *sweating* Yes Mom... 😰

I agree, dear Anon, I'm a bit of a sucker for big intimidating Pillarmen with a sweet little mate ❤❤❤ I'm even more of a sucker for writing it! 🥰😇😘 Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen (separate) with a sweet and nurturing s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• From the moment he first met you, your kindness was baffling to Kars.

• Even before you two had begun a proper relationship, he took notice that you were always dotting on him.

• Sometimes when he was up in his study, spending hours at his desk as he worked away at piles of paperwork, you would pop in to check up on him every so often with a mug of tea for him in hand; brewed hot and black with no sugar, just the way he liked it.

• Somehow you just always knew what he liked and how he liked it.

• You often brung along a comfortable blanket to drape over his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you asked him if he needed anything else and encouraged him to take a break if and when he needed it.

• Nothing prompted you do do these things, he never once asked you for anything really, but it seemed as if you went out of your way to show a little kindness every time.

• Kars knew himself to be a cold creature but you were a person who made his frosty heart thaw with the warmth you radiated.

• As a man who considered nature precious life, he found himself admiring how unbelievably good you were with Animals.

• In fact, they just seemed to flock to you!

• Once, when you both went to an Animal shelter to look for a pet to adopt, Kars turned his back for only a minute and came back to find that you had somehow coaxed the meanest and mangiest old cat there into your lap.

• The shelter workers stood there absolutely gobsmacked as they watched the animal, that had scratched and hissed at and bitten anyone and everyone who had even dared to come near it, cuddling in your arms and purring like a kitten.

• "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?~" You giggled, lovingly running a hand on the cats bristly old fur as it rumbled contently, its purr was like a running motor. "What a pretty kitty you are!"

• Kars could only smile softly to himself as you both left the shelter that day with the mean old cat you were still lovingly cradling in your arms.

• He had to admit, even though he was thousands of years old and an Ultimate lifeform; you somehow felt like you were much higher above him, like a benevolent and virtuous Queen.

Esidisi:

• Your sweet and motherly nature was the very first thing to make Esidisi absolutely head over heals for you.

• There were times you made his heart swell to the point of it hurting when he watched you waltz around the house, singing a happy tune as you did chores or cooked.

• Even though you knew he didn't necessarily need to eat, you always questioned if he was hungry and offered to make him food.

• And it was always delicious homemade food at that!

• You absolutely brought life to every room you passed through and it pulsed through everything you made.

• It was as if everything you touched left behind a little magic in his eyes.

• Once, when you two were still in the stages of getting to know one another, you happened to witness him have one of his crying fits for the first time.

• Esidisi had been very stressed that day and of course, it all overwhelmed him and came out in a flood of tears.

• Immediately, you dropped the laundry you were folding the second you heard him start to sob from the other room and ran to see what was going on.

• "Oh my goodness, what happened?" You questioned, coming towards him quickly.

• Even through his barrage of tears, he didn't miss the genuine concern in your voice and the worry etched into your face as you lowered yourself on your knees in front of him, taking his tearstreaked face gently into your hands.

• "Do you need a hug? We can hug!" You told him, opening your arms to him with no hesitation whatsoever as he struggled to get an explanation out through his bawling.

• The way you rubbed his back, crooning for him to take deep breaths, was something that would stay with him forever as usually people tended to just stand back and gawk at him when he was having a meltdown.

• You hardly even knew him and there you were, comforting him and letting him cry all over you as if you had known him your whole life!

• Each time he spent his evenings with his arms wrapped around you as you cooked supper, both of you singing, he was honestly starting to think he had fallen in love with a Goddess in disguise.

Wamuu:

• You were the only person in the world who could make Wamuu, the greatest and fiercest warrior who ever lived, turn into a shy and blushing mess.

• The way you gently touched his arm and smiled up into his face as you spoke to him, asking him if he was hungry or tired after a long day of training, never failed to make this hardened Pillarman turn to mush.

• Your voice was like music to his ears, as if your words always held a secret song.

• When you did things for him, no matter how small on your part, he could always tell it was done purely out of love.

• "I thought you would get cold going out this time of year, so I made you a scarf and mittens!" You said with a smile, presenting him with the hand-knitted treasures one cold winters day when he was getting ready to leave the house.

• Wamuu was never a person to wear clothes at all. In fact, he would never be cold or hot or uncomfortable in any climate in the slightest being an Ultimate lifeform.

• But still, he stared at the folded scarf and mitts with wide eyes, holding them in his hands like one would a baby bird.

• He had seen you knitting on the couch these past few nights, smiling softly to yourself as you hummed and put love in every stitch. He had honestly thought nothing of it at the time but now it all made sense.

• You had spent all your free time making these... just for him?

• From that moment on, whenever he and the other Pillarmen went outside in the snow (doing God-knows-what), you can bet that he was wearing that scarf and mittens.

• With nothing else but his loincloth, of course.

• When the others questioned him as to why he was wearing such ridiculous attire when he had no need for them, he simply stood there with his head held high; his scarf swaying in the wind as he clenched his mittened hands into fists at his sides.

• "With all due respect my Masters; my beloved bride made these for me." He said calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft smile as their expressions morphed into ones of disbelief. "And believe me when I say that I cherish them as much as I cherish her."

• The warrior actually felt a little boost in his pride seeing the little gleam of jealousy in his companions' eyes at his words.

• It only fed his little ego more when he showed up one day with a new knitted hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on top and Esidisi actually cried and asked if you could make one for him too.

Santana:

• Santana had always rightfully believed that all Humans were the same; loud, annoying, primitive, cruel, dangerous...

• That was until he fell in love with you of course.

• You were a kind of Human he wasn't aware existed, a very soft and loving kind.

• You just seemed to radiate feelings that touched his very soul; like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

• If anyone had ever done something even borderline disrespectful to Santana, he wouldn't put hesitate them in their rightful place (in his stomach that was) but you on the other hand; you always brushed any rude behavior from another off with a smile.

• Always curious, Santana often found himself hanging around in the background, watching you carry out your housework routine.

• You didn't mind this of course, you always assured him that you liked his company.

• Sometimes you even lovingly referred to him as your shadow.

• "Would you like to help, Santana sweetie?" You asked him with a smile as you peered over your shoulder; you were rolling out and cutting homemade cookie dough to bake.

• He noticed you were always so patient, praising him for the littlest things; guiding his hands with the rolling pin, showing him how to flour the cutter and carefully peel away the outline of the shapes.

• "A star for my star," you beamed, holding up a warm star shaped sugar cookie for him to take when you had pulled them from the oven.

• He blinked as you waved the freshly baked cookie in his face, taking it carefully.

• A little smile curled around the pastry when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his help.

• You and only you could make him feel tingles from the insides out.

• One of his most favourite routines with you was when you sat on the couch on your phone or watching T.V at night; where you'd invite him to lay his head in your lap.

• Your melodic voice could only be compared to a Princess', your little fingers combing out the tangles of his thick red hair as you hummed to him or talked to him about his day before he was lulled to sleep by it all.

• Your sweetness, your warmth, your empathy; it gave him a hope for Humanity he never had before he met you...

[star-six7]

Running Away and Hiding With You

Mikey Way x Gender Neutral!Reader (ending 1 of 4 for Here In This House of Wolves)

Word Count: 1444

A/N: Here’s the Mikey ending! The others will be posted today and tomorrow, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.

You began to fidget as you listened to the hosts explain the rules for the walkthrough. While you knew that they were likely playing it up for their own enjoyment, seeing as the band were likely the first visitors they had had in a long time, you couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. They urged everyone not to run, panic, or get separated, as it was apparently very easy to become disoriented. Yikes. 

“Hey,” someone whispered from your left. You turned and noticed Mikey had edged his way out of the group to stand next to you. “You look a little green.”

“Oh. Uh. Just not convinced that we’re not about to get murdered. Or kidnapped.” You were slightly embarrassed that you were visibly nervous about a volunteer-run, small town haunted house, especially in front of Mikey. Though it was silly, there was still a part of you that had never gotten over the “impress him” phase of your crush.  

Mikey glanced up towards the others and smiled. “Honestly? I’m not crazy about the whole thing either. Let’s go.”

And before you knew what was happening, Mikey took your arm and led you out the door before the others even had a chance to turn around.

After a few minutes of standing by the van, waiting to see if anyone else would follow, you felt the need to break the silence. “I didn’t mean to talk you out of going.” “Not at all. I love Gerard and all, but sometimes his sense of self-preservation…”

“Or lack thereof,” you finished.

“Exactly. You wanna try and find Main Street? I’m pretty sure I saw an ice-cream shop or something back there.”

---

After a few dead ends and wrong turns, you and Mikey ended up being the only two customers in the ice-cream shop. When the bored-looking teenager running the store handed you your cone, you moved over to lean against the window and watched as Mikey agonized over his order. You tried in vain to hide your smile as he finally decided on a quadruple scoop (chocolate, vanilla, mint chip, and cookie dough, to be exact) with sprinkles, and of course, a cherry on top.

“What?” He pretended to be offended as he noticed your barely concealed laughter. “Can’t a man be particular about his ice cream without being mocked for it?” Your snickering turned into full-blown laughter, which only led to Mikey cracking up with you. Moments like these reminded you exactly why you fell for Mikey in the first place. Though he seemed so quiet and reserved to others, he was funny, kind, smart, and an amazing friend when you got to know him. You suspected it was part of the reason he seemed to know everyone, even the most casual acquaintance, so well. He kept his cards close to his chest. Which, unfortunately, made it almost impossible to tell if he returned your feelings.

When you were finished, and Mikey had eaten enough of his ice-cream to the point where it wasn’t about to topple onto the sidewalk, you decided to wander down the street some more, hoping to fill the time before the others were done. Or murdered. A few minutes later, Mikey tugged on your sleeve as you were staring into the storefront of a tiny antique shop.

“Check it out,” he said, pointing to a Halloween store across the street. He looped his arm through yours as you stepped off the curb.

Unsurprisingly, being a member of My Chemical Romance and entering a Halloween store was the equivalent of a kid walking into a Toys ‘R Us with a 200 dollar gift card. You and Mikey practically ran to the center display, an homage to some of the greatest cult-classic horror movies of all time. You quizzed each other on your favorites, seeing who could get the reference first and retelling the best parts. Soon enough, you moved on to the costume section, where it turned into a contest of who could find the creepiest mask or most grotesque makeup kit. Finally, the excitement began to wind down as the two of you got to the decorations.

“Oh, hey. Spiders. We should totally get Frankie a little present,” you said, smirking.

Mikey shook his head. “And wake up to a knife in my pillow? No thanks.”

“Or bats,” you suggested. “They’re pretty cool. Everyone likes bats.”

You dug through the bin until you landed on one at the very bottom. “Look!” You held it up so he could see. It was a plush bat wearing a red scarf and a pair of glasses. “It’s you. I’m totally getting it.”

For reasons unknown to you, he couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face as you tugged him over to the register.

Not long after you had left the store, Mikey glanced at his watch. “Oh shit,” he muttered. “It’s been almost two hours. There’s no way they’re not done by now, we gotta get back to the van.”

“Definitely. Death by Brian isn’t exactly how I want to go.”

---

Much to both your and Mikey’s surprise, the van was empty when you got back to the haunted house. 

“Damn it, Gerard,” you sighed. “I knew there were murderers in there.”

Mikey snorted. “Gerard wishes.”

“Oh yeah. Him and his melodrama.”

The conversation lapsed back into a comfortable silence as you stared at the doors of the building, wondering when the others would come back.

“Damn,” Mikey exhaled as he turned his collar up against the now-biting fall wind. “Wish I had thought to snag the keys from Brian before we made our great escape.”

You shuffled into his side. “Well, I can take your mind off it, at least.”

“How so?”

“By giving you your gift, of course.” You pulled the bat out of the bag. “Here. So you’ll always remember the one Halloween where you chose to be sensible with me and escape certain doom.”

Mikey smiled as he took the plush. He turned it over in his hands a few times before his expression became more serious. “So, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you why I really asked you to come with me. Aside from escaping homicide, of course.” He swallowed, apparently trying to rid himself of nerves. “I… I really like spending time with you. I mean, I’ll take it any way I can get it. Remember that time I volunteered to walk a mile and a half in the snow with you to get that can of gas?”

You laughed, trying to ignore the way you felt your heartbeat quickening hopefully.

“Well… I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really like you in general. All of you, all the time, not just when we’re going on wild adventures or playing shows. And I understand if you want to pretend I didn’t just say all of that, or if you’re worried about the band, but. You deserve to know. Just… don’t leave me hanging, okay?”

“Mikey, I… I really like you too. And whatever happens next, with Warner, or the record, or- or any of it, I want it to be with you. All of you, all the time.” The slightly apprehensive look on Mikey’s face gave way to a smile that could rival your own. 

And, of course, the rest of the band chose that exact moment to come crashing through the doors of the building, running like hell.

“Unlock it, unlock it, unlock it!” Gerard yelped, as he pushed past you and MIkey, banging on the door of the van. He looked more pale than you had ever seen him, an impressive fate given his usual stage makeup. 

“I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but, I told you so,” Brian sighed as he unlocked the doors to the van. Frank, who had been snickering the entire time, ratcheted up his laughter into a full-blown cackle, which of course, caused Ray to shove him, and they both fell into yet another wrestling match on the floor of the van. You and Mikey climbed in over them, your subtly intertwined hands gone unnoticed in the chaos. Up front, Brian was griping about not being able to find the map, and Gerard was staring pensively out the window, likely about to start writing a song about his near-death experience. Apparently, almost being murdered couldn’t put a damper on the strange chaos you now called home.

“Everybody ready?” Brian called, glancing in the rearview. 

You looked down at your hand in Mikey’s and smiled. Yeah, you were definitely ready. For this tour and whatever came next.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Stay tuned for the other endings, and as always, requests are open!

[aliferous-ly]

we’re all gossipy bitches sometimes

AKA Roman and Logan sit down and gossip -- but not in the way you think. 

pairings: platonic logince, romantic royality, romantic analogical warnings: swearing, two deceit mentions, one remus mention, if there’s anything else lmk!! wordcount: 1641

“Did you see Patton today? What he was wearing?” Roman said, swirling a bright rainbow sparkle mug. 

“Mmhmm,” Logan said. He nodded for good measure. “The soft grey sweater? With a little mouse on it?” 

“And it said mice to meet you, like,” Roman paused, making a guttural noise. “Ugh! Are you kidding me? I can’t deal with that!” 

“The pun was rather…” Logan pursed his lips. “...much. However, I agree with your sentiment. The sleeves were so long he used them as hand warmers.” 

“I am GOING to die. Like, this isn’t a drill, dig a hole of six feet,” Roman said. He leaned forward, thick fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “He should be illegal. He’s too cute. Tomorrow he’ll come down in that green knit sweater and I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing his stupid face.” 

“I thought the yellow dress would do you in. I stand corrected,” Logan said. 

“Oh, yes, it absolutely would,” Roman said. He pointed at Logan with his obnoxious glitter mug. “But it’s too cold for that. 

“Oh, what about the dark red one, and then that one scarf he has, and leggings?” Logan mused. 

“Oh shit,” Roman said. He sighed, melting against the couch cushions. “God, you’re right.” 

“Also, based on past experience, you won’t do anything of the sort,” Logan said, sipping from his own travel mug. 

Roman gasped. “Ouch! You didn’t have to come for me like that!” 

“I speak only the truth,” Logan said, shrugging. He lifted the mug to cover the slight hint of a smile. 

“Oh, but you’ll love this,” Roman said. He put the mug on the coffee table. With his newly freed hands, Roman gestured to follow his words. “I caught Virgil staring at your space blanket.” 

“Understandable. Anyone would. It’s very soft and is nice to look at,” Logan said. 

“Shut up, specs,” Roman said. “C’mon. C’mon. Imagine him all wrapped up in that blanket. Like are you kidding me? Imagine it.” 

Logan rolled his eyes, ignoring the heat travelling to his cheeks. Maybe he was too warm and should shed a layer. “Today he told me his room needed redecorating and asked me to help.” 

“Yo, get it my good nerdy friend!” Roman said, kicking Logan. “What did you say?” 

Logan avoided Roman’s gaze, electing to stare out the window where snow fell softly, as per Roman’s request. 

“Teach,” Roman said. He leveled Logan with a look. “Don’t leave me hanging.” 

“I said, I am not design oriented and thus my opinion should not be turned to, perhaps try Patton or Roman, they would enjoy this activity more,” Logan muttered, turning bright red at Roman’s incredulous stare. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Dude!” Roman all but yelled. Logan shh’d him frantically, eyes wide. Roman lowered his voice, but only slight. “That was your opportunity! Your time to shine! You could regale him with like, creepy spider facts! What even!” 

“I panicked!’ Logan whispered loudly. “I can’t handle him when he does that weird thing with his face!” 

“You mean smiling?” Roman said, gesturing wildly. “Logan!” 

“Do not yell at me when you were just saying you couldn’t handle it when Patton was wearing a certain piece of fabric,” Logan shot back. 

“Don’t at me when you fall into a helpless puddle whenever Virgil wears a beanie,” Roman countered. 

“He looks -- he looks--”

“Really damn cute, I know! I get it, but you still fall apart so don’t pretend I’m the only useless one here!” 

“I just told you I rejected one of his -- invites -- and you think I’m put together? Bitch, please.” 

They stared at each other, almost breathless, almost huffing. Then they cracked, lips twitching up into twin smiles as laughter bubbled. 

“Ahhh,” Roman said, falling further into a reclined position. “Patton promised to make me a pink cake tomorrow.” 

“Don’t drink in that position,” Logan said. He shifted. “Pink cake? As in, the cake, or the frosting?” 

“White frosting, pink cake,” Roman said. 

“Sounds insufferably adorable,” Logan said. He picked at his travel mug, flipping the top open and closed, open and closed. 

“He really is adorable,” Roman said, sighing happily. “If I ask him to make the cute little roses, do you think he’ll say yes? Because then I can watch his concentrated face, his nose scrunches up, and sometimes his tongue sticks out between his teeth, and you can see his dimples so easily.” 

“I would put money on it,” Logan said. He frowned. “I don’t think Virgil enjoys my presence as much anymore. He looked so upset when I spoke.” 

“Because you said no, you stupid bitch,” Roman said. 

Logan rolled his eyes. “You think using harsh words will wake me up to something. It won’t work, because I don’t need waking up to anything.” 

“You need to wake up and see how much Virgil loooooves you,” Roman said, squishing his own cheeks to make a face at Logan. 

“You’re the insufferable one,” Logan said. “He does not.” 

“Does too!” Roman protested. “I have proof!” 

“Oh, do tell,” Logan said, with the air of someone who’d won three steps before. 

“Okay,” Roman said. He sat up; time to get serious. “Okay. So you know how Virgil is emotionally stunted?” 

“Rude, but continue.” 

“So he doesn’t know how to express love the same way Patton and I do -- Patton by telling you he loves you and me telling me how irritating you are, naturally -- and I think it’s because being in the other’s messed with him,” Roman said. 

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “I asked for proof, not for you to psychoanalyse him.” 

“Okay, okay, fine,” Roman said. “He loves hanging out with you because he always has that little smile whenever you’re around, he literally frosted a cookie with blue and black plaid, caught me looking, and stuffed the whole thing in his face,” Roman said, ticking off with his fingers. “He always seems to know when you’re in the room, and hangs out with you all the time just sitting on the couch.” 

“That is very enjoyable,” Logan murmured. His fingers were warm around the travel mug. 

“Dude, I vote you go for it,” Roman said. 

“You know why I don’t,” Logan said. 

“Yeah,” Roman said. He knew. They made a pact about it, actually. No unnecessary pushing. Even if Roman thought it was very necessary. 

“Also, please tell me you heard Patton rambling about the Princess and the Frog,” Logan said. 

“Oh did I!” Roman said, loud as ever. “I almost proposed to him on the spot. Can sides get married?”

“Hell if I know,” Logan said. He took an obnoxious sip of his drink. 

“Bitch what!” Roman said. He threw his arms in the air. “You’re supposed to know everything, you logical god!” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Marriage is utterly impossible between the sides because it requires an ordained priest, of which none of us are.” 

“Fuck you, I can get married if I want to,” Roman said, leaning back against the couch. 

“Case and point,” Logan said. 

“Also, why can’t you become ordained?” Roman said. 

“You need a street address and I, Logan Sanders, have no address,” Logan said. He frowned. “Unfortunately.” 

“I knew you’d already tried,” Roman said. He laughed. “Let’s get Thomas ordained. Stick that in his brain during dreamland.” 

“This isn’t Inception,” Logan said. 

“Did you just make a movie reference?” Roman said. He sat forward, absolute delight shining in his voice. 

“Of course not,” Logan said. 

“Don’t lie,” Roman said. “That’s just inviting trouble.” 

“Deceit’s name is not trouble,” Logan said, distaste clear in his voice. “Besides, that’s all besides the point. You’re not going to jump straight to marriage because you’re a romantic and want to milk all relationships from every milestone.” 

“All my relationships?” Roman made a few disbelieving noises. “You make it sound like I’ve had one!” 

“Technically, you’re the hub of Thomas’s romantic feelings and therefore feel romantically attracted to his partners.” 

“Well, kinda,” Roman said. He swished his mug, watching the liquid within swirl around. “Patton shares it because he’s like, all emotion.” 

Logan thought for one, two, three moments. “How absolutely disgusting.” 

“I know, we’ve ranted so many times about how wonderful his ex’s were when they were dating,” Roman groaned. 

“It’s like sugar squared,” Logan said. He shivered. “Gross.” 

“Don’t gross me, you’re the one who literally wrote a pros and cons list to dating Virgil and your cons were he would know me and three question marks,” Roman said. “That’s gross.” 

“That’s practical,” Logan said, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. 

“You’re -- practical -- wait,” Roman laughed. “Wait, let me try again.” 

“Too late, no takesie backsies -- that is how the phrase goes, yes?” 

“Don’t be cute with me.” 

“Impossible. I’m never cute.” 

“Virgil would beg to differ--”

“How would you know what Virgil thinks? Also, this conversation seems to be targeting me a little too much. How about the time Patton slipped and you caught him? You’ve never looked redder.” 

“Stoooop,” Roman whined. “He looked so happy, okay! Also I caught him, that’s like, ultimate prince behavior.” 

“Is it prince behavior to stutter and leave the situation ten seconds later?” Logan hummed. 

“Do not come at me like that, oh my god,” Roman said. “This is a very targeted conversation, I thought we were talking tea.” 

“Alright,” Logan said. He settled in. “Where were we?” 

“Well, I was thinking about--” Roman continued talking, his voice soft and pliant. Logan interjected every so often with his own comments, the two of them catching up on all the actions of Virgil or Patton, with splashes of Deceit and Remus interspersed in. 

Ten feet away, sitting on the stairs, blocked by the wall, sat Patton and Virgil. 

They clung to one another's hands, eyes wide and faces darker than Roman’s sash. 

[finnofamerica]

Bumblebee - Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: When delivering something to Remus as Sirius’ request, you end up discovering his biggest secret. 

Word Count: 2198

Date: 10.02.2019

Requested by Anonymous

|| Masterlist || 

You ran down the corridors of Hogwarts with a message from Dumbledore, you had no idea why you agreed to take your free period to be his aid. 

“Professor McGonagall?” You huffed, out of breath, “Sorry to interrupt, can I borrow Remus please?” 

“Certainly.” She nodded. You almost blushed at the ammount of eyes that were on you, but your face was already red from running. Remus stood calmly, ignoring James ans Sirius who were bombarding him with whispered questions. 

“Where are we going?” He asked. You gave him a soft smile, patting his shoulder. His sweater was immensely soft underneath your finger tips. 

“Dumbledore just wanted to talk to you, is all.” 

“You ran for that?” 

“Well, Dumbledore makes everything sound like an emergency.” You shrugged, laughing a little, “How’s you’re day?” 

“It’s been good. The usual at least.” 

“That’s good.” 

“You?” 

“You know, still kicking so I can’t complain.” You shrugged. 

You had an odd sort of thing with Remus, it was clear to anybody else that you obviously had a thing for eachother, but you both continued on like you were just friends. It was hard to believe you were “just friends”. Seriously, Remus would drop anything he was doing to help you study, or if you were struggling with something. You were constantly running errands for the proffessors. Getting books from the library for Flitwick, pots for Sprout, tea for Trewlliny and so on. Remus caught you once with books stacked so high he couldn’t see the top of your head, he wondered ho you even knew where you were going. 

It wasn’t like you were never there for Remus, you always found a moment in your busy schedule speak with him. Most times you found him in the library, taking a quiet moment away from his noisey nosey friends, others at the quidditch pitch watching James practice. You knew at times his scars bothered him, and you figured the easiest way of letting him know that you cared, was to ask him about his day. 

“What do you think he wants?” 

“I’m not sure,” You shrugged, “I’ll see you after though.” 

“You probably wont, Bumblebee.” He shook his head, though he said it with humor. You stuck your tongue out at him. 

“Yes, professor?” Remus asked as you let him into Dumbledore’s office. You wished you could’ve stuck around, but you had more errands to run, delivering new ink to teachers. 

-

“And the bumblebee is off again,” Bellatrix snickered as you hurried down the hallways. You were one of her favorite sorces of amusement. Specifically, she loved to trip you when you were in a rush, bonus points if you were carrying ink. 

Bumblebee, a reference to your yellow and black robes. The students who didn’t like you seemed to adopt the nickname, associating it with your house colors and your ever busy “buzzing” behavior. You didn’t care, you actually thought the nickname was cute, no matter how venomous it came off of people’s lips. 

“Woah, Y/n, why such a rush?” Sirius laughed as you almost crashed into him. 

“Nothing much, just delivering these new pots to Professor Sprout and getting some herbs for Madam Pomfrey, urgent matter she says,” You said, lips running almost as fast as the rest of you. 

“You’re still coming to study later right?” He asked as you were already beginning to walk away. 

“Yeah, just a few more things to check off my list.” You steadily accelerated into a run, the words barely drifting over your shoulder to him. He shook his head fondly, slinging his arm over Remus who was watching you depart. 

“Ah, mate, getting her to slow down will be a feat.” 

-

“Sorry I’m late,” You crashed into the table. Not litterally, but the way you plopped down into the chair, certainly resembled crashing. “What are we working on?” 

“Y/n, calm down,” Remus placed his hand on your shoulder, the heat warming you instantly and soothing you, “We just started. The essay for McGonagall.” 

Remus thought he was a busy student, passing all his classes, but you were that times ten. He had no idea how you found the time to do all your homework on top of everything you already did for the Professors. You gave him an easy smile, nudging him with your elbow. 

“So what topic did you choose?” Remus asked, ignoring the way James and Sirius plotted in the corner. 

“Oh,” You tossed bit of loose hair over your shoulder, “Well, I wanted to write about how transfiguration could be used to help poor families.” 

“Oh?” He rose a brow. 

“Yeah, I mean, think of the benefits!” 

James and Sirius looked back and forth between you and Remus as you discussed possible topics for the essay. Comepletely enamored with eachother, everyone else at the table disappeared. 

-

You were finally able to relax on the couch of the Hufflepuff common room, the smell of fresh cookies wafting through. You didn’t want to do anything, so you laid on the couch, eyes closed just listening to the crackling of the fire. 

“Miss Y/l/n?” You heard a voice. You held back a groan as you sat up, back aching dully. 

“Yes?” You turned to the portrait door, only to find Professor Sprout. 

“Minerva had this for you. She said Sirius had it for Remus but couldn’t find him.” She handed you a vile that smelt rather, well, vile. 

“Thank you, Professor, I go find him now.” You swung your legs off the couch, stretching as you stood. “A bumblebee’s work is never done, I guess.” 

You didn’t rush down the corridors, instead, you took your time. Finding Remus meant peaking inside abandoned classrooms and knocking on office doors. He wasn’t even with Madam Pomfrey which you thought odd. He was nowhere else in the castle. You leaned against one of the windows, looking out on the castle grounds. 

You could see a single figure out there. 

“Remus?” You asked yourself, really hoping you were wrong. Whatever that person was doing out there, it didn’t feel good. 

Against your better judgement, you found yourself making your way out to the castle grounds, over looking the quidditch pitch. 

“Remus?!” You called over to the figure, shivering in the cold. 

“Y/n?” He called back. 

“What are you doing out here so late?” 

“Y/n you need to go back inside right now,” He demanded seriously. You could see the concern in his eyes as you stepped closer. 

“No, Rem, are you okay?” 

“Y/n, you need to go inside now.” Remus reitterated, stepping away from you. 

“Professor Sprout g-”

“Now, Y/n!” 

You took a step back. Remus never raised his voice at anyone, certainly not you. 

“Rem?” Your voice broke, eyes watering. 

“It’s too late,” he groaned out in pain. You could see the muscles in his back train against his shirt. 

“Y/n,” James ran up to you. “You need to go now, it’s not safe.” 

“No, what’s wrong with Remus?” You were practically crying to see him in pain like this. 

“I’ll explain later,” He promised, “Sirius, get her inside.” 

“No, I wanna help.” You strained against Sirius’ grip on you. 

“Y/n, listen to me,” Sirius gripped your shoulders, forcring you to look away from Remus and at him. “We will explain tomorrow, but if you don’t go inside now you could be in severe danger.”

“But-” 

“No, buts.” He cut you off, “Look, I know you wanna help. It’s in your silly bumblebee nature, but you can’t help right now. Tomorrow morning I will come get you and we’ll explain everything but right now, I need you to go back inside the castle.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise. Run.” 

A howl pierced the night as you took off back towards the castle. The sound alone chilled you to the bone, but the realization that came along with it had your head spinning so bad that the second you were inside the castle, you collapsed on the floor, struggling for breath. 

You didn’t sleep that night. You waited up all night, holding that precious vile in your hand as you stared out at the full moon. You watched as the moon crept across the sky, slowly dissappearing into the sunrise. 

“Y/n.” A voice hissed at you. “Y/n!” 

You sat bolt upright on the common room couch. 

“I was only resting my eyes for a second.” You insisted, rubbing your bleary eyes. Sirius’ face came into focus in front of you. 

“Come with me,” He held out his hand. “He should be waking soon.” 

You followed Sirius through tunnels that you had no idea were even there. Narrowly avoiding getting hit by the whomping willow, as you snuck through the tunnel at the bottom, barely big enough for you to fit. The room it emerged into was dusty, abandoned. 

“Is this-?” The words died on your lips. 

“The shrieking shack?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You ever wondered why it’s called that?” He asked, but he didn’t need an answer, you already put it together. 

“How is he?” Sirius asked James as he lead you into another room. This one was significantly cleaner than the last, resembling more of a squatter’s spot. 

“Sleeping still. This one was worse, I think.” 

They spoke in hushed tones, in a secretive way as if they didn’t want you to hear. Remus was sound asleep on the dusty bed, his hair tossled and pants hung loose on him. After a second glance you realized they were actually Sirius’ pants, but you had no idea when he’d gotten them. Remus was shivering but despite the thick sweater he was wearing. 

“I’ll watch over him,” You said softly. So softly that Sirius and James almost didn’t hear you. “You guys should rest.” 

“We should explain-” 

“No. He can tell me himself.” You shook your head. “I’d rather he tells me himself.” 

“You’re sure?” James asked. 

“I’m sure.” 

“Okay. Come get us when he wakes.” James gave you a hug. It was strange, James had never hugged you before, but he almost seemed glad you were there, if the circles around his eyes had anything to say about it. Sirius ruffled your already messy hair as he walked out, giving one last look to his sleeping friend. 

You carefully sat on the edge of the bed, pulling your legs up next to you. Remus was still shivering, even as you gingerly wrapped your scarf around his neck. You brushed some hair away from his face. You could almost say he looked peaceful, but you really didn’t want to know what was happening behind those closed eyes. You did think he was beautiful, even with the scars on his arms, and even the ones on his face. Your favorite was the one across his nose, the one that interrupted the path of freckles on his face. You didn’t realize that you were lightly tracing the scar until Remus’ hand shot up, catching yours. 

“Stop,” He mumbled, “tickles.”

“Sorry,” You whispered, “How you feeling?” 

“Y/n?” Remus finally opend his eyes. His eyes were hazy and un focused as they flickered to you. He pushed a bit of hair behind your ear with a sleepy smile, “Bumblebee.” 

He said it with such warmth, you couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

“Oh my -” Remus sat up, pulling you into his arms. He was really awake now, “Why didn’t you go back inside? Are you hurt?” 

“No,” You petted his head, “I’m okay. But I only went inside because I was promised an explaination. But I’m more concerned about you, how are you feeling?” 

“Tired, drained, like I got hit by a car.” He let his head rest into your shoulder, a little muffled by your sweater. “I take it you know then?” 

“I put it together last night.” 

“You still came after all that?” 

“Of course!” 

“You’re crazy.” 

“You’re my friend, and I care for you wether you like it or not.” 

“You should stay away from me, it’s not safe.” 

“I’m not scared of you. Please, look at me.” 

He leaned back, just enough to meet your eyes. You could see tears in his, upset over the fact that he could’ve hurt you. You cupped his cheecks, brushing away any stray tears. 

“You’re my friend, and I care for you. I like you a whole lot too. Shit, I wouldn’t have chased after you last night if I wasn’t willing to bend over backwards into hell for you. The only thing I want, is to help you be okay on the otherside.” 

“I could hurt you.” He whispered.

“I’ve got nothing left to lose. Try me.” You challenged softly. He gently pressed his lips to yours, like he was unsure of his actions. You just kissed him back. 

“You look tired,” He teased as he pulled away. 

“I was up all night worried about you.” 

“Nap with me then, just skip classes with me today. No bumblebee duties.” 

“Maybe just for today,” You laid on the bed next to him. Remus was much warmer with you tucked against his side as the both of you got some much needed rest.

TAGS: @diggorysghost​​ @niffleurs​ @siriuslyimmoony​ @carolinesbookworld@untildawnremus​ @thoseofgreatambition​ @nosebleednougats​​ @moonynprongs​ @marauderobsessed​ @theboywhocriedlupin​ @astertist​ @swellwriting​ @blimey-ron​ @dyngflwrs​ ​ @fortisfiliae​ @essenceoflumos​  @bluemadcnna @theseuscmander

[ourownsideimagines]

They Say You Can’t Go Home Again, but I Found Home in You (Crowley x Fem!Angel-ish!Reader)

Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale, Fem!Angel-ishReader, Madam Tracy, Shadwell, Gate Soldier

Requested: Yes 

Requested by: @adela-topaz-caelon

Point of View: Third Person Reader

Summary: (Name) is an Angel who, while not fallen, was booted from Heaven. She and Crowley have been dancing around their feelings for each other, and Aziraphale decided that the start of the apocalypse is a good time to finally point it out.

Warnings: I may have cursed? Otherwise, just the usual minimal editing.

Words: 1669

A/N: This is done in one large part, then a small little drabble kind of thing. 

—-

By standard terms, (name) was not an Angel. Not anymore, at least. She had not fallen after the “Great War”, but quickly found that she did not belong - if threats from Michael and Gabriel weren’t enough to get the point across, being thrown out by Sandalphon and Uriel definitely was. 

(Name) had fallen, just not in the most traditional way.

A fallen angel, though, was a fallen angel in Heaven’s opinion. She would no longer be allowed into Paradise, not that she much minded. She had her Heavenly-issued body and the ability to create miracles. What more could she need?

After a few hundred or so years she came to one conclusion. Friends, she decided. She needed friends.

So she sought out the only being she thought might be even the slightest bit kind to her - the Principality and (former) Angel of the Eastern Gate, Aziraphale. He’d been living on Earth for years, and sure, maybe he knew about her ‘fall’, but there was a part of her deep down that prayed to whoever might be listening that he wouldn’t care.

It was just after the flood, and Noah sailing his arc that (name) went looking for him.

And hundreds of years later, the two were closer than close could be. And, of course, being friends with Aziraphale ultimately meant becoming friends with a certain yellow-eyed demon. (Name) was surprised to say the least when she’d first learned of the friendship, though seeing as Aziraphale was affiliating with her she couldn’t for the life of her think why he wouldn’t befriend an actual demon.

At first, she and Crowley got along as well as two fallen angels could (though he sometimes refused to refer to her as such, since she was simply booted while he had to burn the whole way down). They clashed on various occasions, snarky remarks were swapped, and looks were taken in secret.

(Name) would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to Crowley. There was just something about his cocky personality that drew her in. And those eyes. Those eyes could kill her and she would thank them.

Of course, (name) would never admit this out loud. There was no way she’d ever admit to actually liking Crowley - at least, not yet.

As the impending end of the earth advanced, she found herself sticking around the angel and the demon more often. She’d accompanied them to care for Warlock, posing as the new house cleaner. She kept an eye on both Aziraphale and Crowley, acting as a buffer for anything too brash. She would comfort Warlock when the two became too much for him, telling him they were just ‘old, silly fools’, then offering to sneak him into the kitchen to steal some cookies. (Name) didn’t have a side, as far as she was concerned (unless, of course, she was counting the side she, Crowley, and Aziraphale had unofficially made). She saw no wrong in contradicting either of their doings.

Crowley, or Astaroth, as she’d been going by had been rather upset about this. She didn’t want the plan to be messed up, but after that time she’d caught (name) reading to Warlock in the middle of the afternoon until he began to nap she said nothing more on the situation.

(Name) had liked Crowley’s longer hair. She was disappointed when he decided that, when he was no longer Nanny Astaroth, that he would cut it short. More masculine. Not that he looked bad - no, far from it. She just wondered, silently to herself, how nice it would have been to be able to braid it.

Perhaps, if they truly stopped armegeddon, he would grow it back out and allow her to-

No, no. She shouldn’t be thinking about that. There were much more pressing issues, such as trying to figure out her way over the hellfire that had taken over the M25. (name) had gotten a call not ten minutes ago from Crowley, telling her to get to Tadfield’s air base. 

Had (name) been told from the beginning that this is where she would end up, she would have laughed and asked ‘in how many years?’ before going off to perform another miracle (almost 6000 years, would have been the answer, not that she would have expected one).

The rain was beginning to come down hard, and in the distance she could hear police sirens. She needed to get over the fire wall, and she needed to do it now. If her watch was right, she didn’t have nearly as much time as she hoped she would.

Knowing she had only one choice, since she would not survive driving through it, (name) focused on one thing and one thing only - her wings.

It had been centuries since she’d stretched them out, and the sound of her jacket ripping made her wince. She could miracle it back together later, but the sound was unpleasant all the same. When they’d finally finished breaking free, she stretched them out. She used the smallest amount of her powers to keep them dry, and after taking in a deep breath, she launched into the air like someone who was riding a bike for the first time in years - shakily done, but done nonetheless.

The flight to Tadfield was the most liberated (name) had felt in a while. Far below here, people buzzed in panic, and she eventually caught sight of a speeding car she would have once recognized as Crowley’s vintage Bentley. She heart dropped as she watched flames lick the carriage, and melt away the tires. She was certain he would make it to Tadfield, but at such a cost it hurt even her.

On the short list of things that Crowley loved, (name) knew the first to be his car (she secretly hoped that she was second). As she approached the airbase, she began feeling winded.

She really hadn’t done this in a long time.

(Name) touched down a short five minute walk from the airbase. She didn’t want to risk the chance that someone would see her and try to shoot her down. From down the road, she saw three figures. One was an older man, a large obtuse gun strapped to his back, another a soldier holding his gun close, and the last a woman dressed in very colorful attire. Even from afar, she knew the woman - even if she didn’t recognize the face.

“Aziraphale?” She called, and all three people turned. The soldier raised his weapon, but (name) went straight to Aziraphale.

“Ah, (name),” She smiled gently. They embraced, but (name) quickly pulled away.

“Who’s this?” She asked, gently flattening Aziraphale’s sleeves.

“Oh, right. This lovely woman is Madam Tracy. Madam Tracy, this is my good friends (name).” There was no pause between Aziraphale’s words and the woman's. “Oh, a pleasure.”

“Very much so,” (name) agreed. She got the sudden feeling that the others were staring at her, but she ignored it. “What happened to your body, Aziraphale?”

“Ah, yes, about that. Got discorporated. How did you know to come here?”

“Crowley called-” (name) paused when the familiar tune of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, and the smell of burning metal and rubber breached her senses. She turned quickly, watching as the flaming Bentley swerved around the turn and came to a stop at a safe enough distance.

The door open, and Crowley slipped out, a book in one hand as he used his foot to kick the door closed.

“Wouldn’t get that kind of performance from a modern car!” He said, albeit not with much heart. He didn’t even look at the Bentley before making his way over to them. (Name) lurched forward towards him, and he stepped back in surprise. She gently grasped his arms, looking at his soot covered face.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” She said. Crowley’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but he was looking behind her.

“Uh, you, um,” He was stumbling over his words.

“What?”

“Your wings,” He said, and (name) felt her blood go cold.

She had forgotten about her wings. She backed away, suddenly embarrassed, and willed them away.

“Next time you decide to drive your car through a fire, at least let me know beforehand.” She muttered. “I saw you about a mile back and got worried.”

“You were worried about me?” He smirked. She rolled her eyes. “I’m honored, really.”

“Shut up.” She said.

“Crowley, (name), I do believe the flirting can be saved for later.” Aziraphale interrupted you. “As cute as watching you two had been for the last handful of centuries, I really do think getting inside is out main objective, yes?” (Name) felt her cheeks flush red.

“We’re not- she’s not-” Crowley stopped suddenly. “You’re not… You’re not flirting are you?”

“Are you serious? At a time like this?” (Name) motioned to the armed guard.

“I was just curious.” He mumbled. (Name) sighed, but grabbed Crowley’s hand.

“We’ll talk about it later, Crowley. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

---(a little added bonus because didn’t exactly wanna write the whole airport scene)---

“Would anyone here care to explain to me what exactly is going on?” Adam Young’s father asked. Crowley turned to (name), whom had clung to him amidst the stopping of time and Satan rising. She  was winded, to say the least, and she was prepared to sleep for years, even if she didn’t truly need to.

“I should ask you the same.” Crowley mumbled. (Name)’s eyes snapped up to him. “What is going on… here… between us?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Aziraphale interrupted the two of you. “You to have been in love with each other for years, honestly, it’s embarrassing.”

“Aziraphale,” You hissed.

“I’m just so tired of seeing you two dancing around each other. It’s ridiculous.”

“Aziraphale-” Crowley’s words were cut off suddenly when (name) grasped his scarf, tugging him to her. He stared at her, eyes wide open. (Name), not exactly caring whether or not anyone was watching gave him a gentle smile.

“C’mon you old serpent. Tell me where you think we are.”

[yellowcanna]

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

Available on AO3!!

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CHAPTER 13

MOONLESS NIGHT (NIGHT 3: TUESDAY)

This story has been beta'd by Momentary_Flight

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Sunday 8:32pm—Yokohama

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 “What the fuck is this?”

Shigaraki Tomura stood at the top of a building as he stared down at the brightly lit street below him.

People were walking  around like normal.

People were going about their night like normal.

People were laughing like normal.

And all of that added together was anything but normal.

“This is…Yokohama?!” Spinner gaped in disbelief before he whirled around to Kurogiri. “Didn’t you say this is a city ruled by criminals?”

"It's…supposed to be," Kurogiri replied unsurely.

"Then perhaps we ended up somewhere else?" Magne looked up at the clear night sky. “I don’t see any signs of that barrier we broke through.”

“Maybe this barrier also has a warp power?” Toga suggested.

“So…are we in Yokohama or not?!” Twist shouted in confusion.

“Are you blind?” Dabi snorted at his companions.

Before an argument could break out, Shigaraki spoke.

"This place is Yokohama."

“Indeed.” Mr. Compress twirled his staff around before pointing it down at the street. “Take a closer look at those people.”

Everyone looked back at the people walking about. They only needed a glimpse to know what Mr. Compress was referring to. After all, where e lse in the world could they find a bunch of people looking like the carbon copies of each other?

“Old Humans…” Magne mumbled before her head snapped up upon catching a glimpse of a shadow from the corner of her eye. “They sure are annoying. They’ve been following us since we came through the barrier.”

“Can we kill them?” Toga was already reaching for her knife.

“Forget them.” Shigaraki’s blood-red eye darted to the narrow alleyway beside the building they were on. There were three punks at the bottom, each of them armed with a baseball bat as they chattered and smoked. "We need to find a temporary hideout."

Half an hour later, the  group arrived at an abandoned warehouse. It was run down and filled with dust, but it at least had a proper roof. It was a perfect temporary hideout for them.

Shigaraki walked around the warehouse, leaving footprints on the dusty floor.

"C-can you please let me go now?" The man in Magne's grip asked with a trembling voice. He was  from the trio back in the alleyway.

“Yeah, you did a great job.” Shigaraki strolled back to the man and wrapped all five of his fingers around his face.

Everyone watched with cold eyes as the man shrieked. His body began to disintegrate into ashes, starting with his face. Once the body was fully gone, Shigaraki looked down at his palm, then to Kurogiri.

“Kurogiri, can you warp us out?” 

Kurogiri’s glowing yellow eyes narrowed before purple mist erupted from his body. The  villains watched as the dark mist flickered. It tried to form a warp portal, only to disperse before trying again.

After  several failed attempts, Kurogiri ended up opening a portal three meters beside him. 

"I cannot warp us back out," Kurogiri said as Shigaraki picked up a small piece of cement that had fallen from the wall. "It's the same as trying to warp us inside  the city. My Quirk isn't able to go past the barrier. It seems that I can now only warp within the city."

Shigaraki tossed the piece of cement into one end of Kurogiri’s portal and watched it  fly out from the other.

“So we have to crawl through that hole we made if we want to leave?” Magne frowned, not liking that idea.

"But what exactly is that barrier?" Spinner asked. "None of our Quirks worked on that thing, not even Shigaraki’s. I’ve never heard of any material that can do that.”

"I am afraid I do not have  an answer to that," Kurogiri replied as purple mist took the form of a human body once more. “The master had spent years researching the barrier of Yokohama, but he was unable to find anything. The only thing he was certain of is that Yokohama’s barrier is neither technology nor power.”

“Oh?” Mr. Compress perked up in surprise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Twice gaped.

Dabi raised a brow as his fingers lightly tapped on the crate he was sitting on. He gazed up to the sky, looking through the hole in the roof and to the stars twinkling in the night.

“You’re not saying this thing is alive, are you?” The raven-haired  villain asked.

"No, I do not believe so," Kurogiri replied.

“What else can you tell us about Yokohama?” Mr. Compress asked.

“I have nothing more.” Kurogiri shook his head. “I have already explained to you about Ability users. The master rarely  spoke of Yokohama.”

Rather than not talking about it, it was more like something  had happened in the past that made All for One not want to think about it.

Truthfully, Kurogiri knew he shouldn’t have allowed Shigaraki to come here. Since a long time ago, All for One had instructed all of them to  never go near Yokohama. Unfortunately, with All for One’s capture, Shigaraki was in a mess. He had completely lost his way and only calmed down after they received information of U.A High School planning a class trip to Yokohama.  

It was the mention of Yokohama that pointed out a new path for Shigaraki. As the master's disciple, he too knew about the situation within Yokohama. The master had told him how dangerous Yokohama was, but he wanted to see just what a Hero-free world was like with his own eyes.

“I want to see it…”   Shigaraki told Kurogiri when the latter tried to stop him. “The hidden boss behind the final one.”

Kurogiri glanced at Shigaraki who was standing in the middle of the warehouse.

Perhaps the master had anticipated this as well.

"For now, we need information," Shigaraki announced as he turned to his team. “Dabi and Mr. Compress will go out and gather information.”

“Eeeh?” Toga whined. “Then what about the rest of us?”

"We wait here," Shigaraki said as he sat down on a dusty old chair.

“No! I want to go out too!” Toga complained.

“Same here!” Twist shouted, raising his hand like an elementary kid.

“Now, now, calm down.” Mr. Compress waved his hands to calm his comrades. “We’re in the enemy’s territory. It’ll be risky for us to split up too much. We’ll bring some food back, what do you all want?”

Just like that, Mr. Compress smoothly put out the flames before it even ha d a chance to ignite.

"Also, if those guys out there follow you, let them," Shigaraki added. “Don’t do anything unnecessary.”

"We know that much," Dabi muttered as he and Mr. Compress headed outside.

Thus began the League of Villains’s first night within Yokohama.

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Present

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

 “For a couple of brats, you have some guts to come into a nightclub." The orange-haired man said as he came to a stop before the kids.

“W-what do you mean?” Kaminari stammered. He didn’t know why, but there was a strange pressure slamming down on him when he met the man’s eyes.

“What’s it to you?!” Bakugou shouted, standing up. “We can be here all we want!”

“Y-yeah!” Mineta joined in, finding some confidence through Bakugou. “We’re legal!”

The red-haired man snorted out a laugh. “Listen here, kid. No adults would ever call themselves legal.”

“But we’re all sixteen! We can be here!” Kaminari argued.

“Yeah, for Yokohama citizens that is.” The man replied, causing all of them to freeze up in shock. How did they get found out again?!

“H-how—” Mineta spluttered, unable to finish his sentence.

“Anyone can tell with one glance that you’re outsiders.” The man spoke with amusement lacing his husky voice. He looked over to the waiter. The moment their gaze connected, the waiter hurriedly walked up to him with his hands folded behind his back and his posture straight.

“How may I serve you, Chuuya-sama?” He inquired respectfully.

“Tell me what these kids order.” The man called Chuuya said.

“Yes.” The waiter bowed before he began listing out the drinks in perfect order from first to last.

“Sakura Martini for the lady in the inner booth.

Sake Blossom for the lady with the ponytail.

Peach Fuzz for the russet-haired lady.

Tangerine Ginger Sake Sangria for the lady with earmuffs.

Matcha Highball for the long-haired lady.

Raspberry Sake Tea for the lady in the outer booth.

Sake Bomb for the gentleman with ash-blond hair.

Red Eye for the gentleman with red-hair.

Umetini for the dark-haired gentleman in a varsity jacket.

Cassis Grape for the petite gentleman.

Lychee Martini for the gentleman with blond hair and a black streak.

Fuzzy Navel for the blond-haired gentleman in the brown trench coat.              

Mango Margarita for the strong-looking gentleman.

Samurai Caeser for the blond gentleman with long bangs.

Ginza Mary for the gentleman with the blue scarf.

Lemon Drop for the gentleman with the knitted hat.

Sake Mojito for the warmly dressed gentleman.

Japanese Sling for the gentleman with glasses.

Shochu Melon Citrus for the green-haired gentleman.

Umeshu for the gentleman with split coloured hair.”

The waiter barely took any breaths in-between as he recited the long list of orders in what could only be described as perfection. The students stared at the waiter with wide eyes. No one had any idea how in the world that waiter pulled it off.

When the red-haired man gave the kids a pointed look, more than half of them ducked their heads in guilt—like children caught stealing from a cookie jar.

“Remove the alcohol in all of those and replace it with something nonalcoholic.”

“Yes, Chuuya-sama.”

“Hey!” Bakugou hollered but was ignored by the two adults.

“What about the Spirit Bomb, Chuuya-sama?”

“Why the heck are you asking him?! I’m the customer here!”

“Hm.” Chuuya waved his hand dismissively, looking as if he couldn’t care less. “Replace it with milk.”

“As you wish.” With another bow, the waiter walked off to bring the kids their new orders.

“HEY!!!”

“Kacchan!” Midoriya hissed softly, looking back at the man every now and then as he tried to calm his childhood friend down. After all, this person found out who they were and could kick out any minute. The fact that the man even let the waiter give them drinks meant that they were being allowed to stay.

Fortunately, Bakugou was aware of this as well. He grumbled as he plopped himself back down into his seat, refusing to speak another word to the singer.

“After you finish your drinks, leave,” the redhead told them with his arms crossed over his chest. “Kids should act like kids and go home by their curfew time.”

“…Yes,” they replied dejectedly. They watched as the redhead leaned against the wall, seeming to have no intention of leaving. It was obvious that the man had his eyes on them now.

There was a moment of awkward silence as they stared at the man who was just scrolling through his phone.

“Um…Chuuya-san?” Midoriya called hesitantly. That was what the waiter had addressed this man by, right?

The singer looked up.

“Are you the owner of this place?”

The redhead didn’t respond. He stared at the boy, to the point where Midoriya was starting to fidget in his seat, wondering if he had said something wrong.

“Well,” the man closed his phone and shoved it into his back pocket, “I guess you can say that.”

Midoriya blinked at the vague answer. Did he mean that he wasn’t the only owner?

"We are sorry!" Iida, the ever responsible class-president, stood up as best as he could in the limited space of the booth and bowed at the man. "We didn't mean to intrude into your club like this! Thank you for letting us stay!"

A waiter walked up to Chuuya and held up a tray with a single glass of wine like an offering. The red-haired man took the glass by the stem and swirled the red fluid inside around. His movements were swift and elegant.

"I'm only letting you stay until you finish your drinks," he told them, taking a small sip at his wine. "‘Being out this late isn’t for kids like you."

"We're sorry." Yaoyorozu dipped her head in shame. As a straight "A" student growing up in a good household, she had rarely ever been scolded, so this was a harsh hit on her.

“We’re sorry as well.” The rest of the class except for Bakugou followed.

“Um…Chuuya-san, we saw you singing on the stage, you were super amazing!" Uraraka said as the other girls instantly nodded in agreement.

“Yes, it was amazing!” Ashido praised.

“I’ve never heard of anyone that can change pitches like that!” Jirou added.

“Yeah!” Hagakure was waving her hands in the air.

For the first time since he appeared before them, a smile lifted the redhead’s lips. It was a small smile, but with a handsome face like Chuuya’s, a small smile was enough to get the girls flustered.

Thankfully for them, it was at that moment that three waiters came over to their little corner, each of them carrying a tray of colourful drinks.

Everyone watched with stars in their eyes as they received their drinks. Each of them came with a paper straw and fruits decorating the rim of the glass.

“…It’s so good!” Ashido beamed when she took a huge sip of her drink. "It's like cola, but raspberry flavoured! I can even taste the tea!”

"You're right, this is good!" Uraraka gasped. “It’s all bubbly!”

“It’s sparkling water,” Asui croaked happily.

“I didn’t know sparkling water and plum juice could taste so good! Hey Todoroki, is yours the same as mine?” Sero asked, looking over to Todoroki whose drink looked identical to his.

“Yes.” Todoroki smiled as he looked down at his glass.

Despite not having any alcohol, the people that made these drinks took the effort to make them resemble the pictures on the menu. While everyone was admiring and tasting their drinks, Bakugou was glaring at his milk.

The milk was poured into a rocks glass with one gigantic ball of ice floating at the center. There was a layer of coconut flakes over the surface and around the rim of the glass. As the finishing touch, there were two cranberries skewered by a toothpick balancing on the tip of the ice.

It was obvious that whoever made this was trying to give this glass of milk a wintery theme.

However…it didn’t change the fact that this was just a stupid glass of plain milk.

“Woah Bakugou! That milk looks so good!” Kirishima commented, not noticing how the look on Bakugou’s face was getting worse.

“Yeah, that milk sure looks great, Bakugou!” Sero whistled while trying to restrain his laughter. 

“That’s the fanciest milk I’ve ever seen!” Kaminari didn’t have the restraint that Sero did and was clutching onto his stomach as he laughed.

“Let us see over here too!” Ashido called from the other table. 

With a roar, Bakugou grabbed his glass. He tossed the cranberries away and dumped the entire glass of milk into his open mouth. The rich milk floated down his throat, but Bakugou had completely forgotten about the large globe of ice that was now stuck in his mouth.

The boy's face distorted from rage as his teeth ground against the gigantic ball of ice. Bakugou could spit it back out, but his pride wouldn’t allow that to happen, so he ended up sitting there trying to grind the ice apart with his teeth.

The other students quickly went back to talking about their drinks. They’ve known Bakugou long enough to know when to stop their teasing. As they talked, the grinding sound of ice continued to echo by their ears.

“Um, the money—” Yaoyorozu stood up, about to pull out her wallet when Chuuya held up a hand to stop her.

"It's on the house,” the singer told them before waving one of the waiters over. "After you're done, this guy will escort you out the back door. It'll be bad for business if a suspicious group of people like you walks out the front door."

"Thank you so much! We appreciate it!"

“Yes! Thank you!”

"Thank you!"

An echo of thanks came from the students, but the man only brushed it off. Those bright blue eyes only gave them a brief look before he turned, his jacket flapping around him as he walked away.

The waiter that the redhead had called over just stood there dutifully, looking as if he was going to keep standing there until they finish their drinks. Under the man’s stare, there was no way anyone would dare to overstay their welcome. They hurriedly finished their drinks and followed the waiter to the back door that was next to the bar.

There was nothing in the back aside from a long, plain white hallway. At the very end of the hall was a door made of wood. No words were exchanged the entire time they walked. Some of them wanted to talk to ease up the strange atmosphere, but the presence of the waiter made it hard for them to find anything to talk about.

Once they had arrived at the wooden door, the waiter opened it and the cool night air blew in. The man held the door open with one hand folded behind his back and bowed. Startled by such formality, they walked out the door one by one, bowing back and thanking the waiter as they went.

The sky was completely dark.

The street they came out to was just as empty as the street by the club’s front door. The street lights were functioning properly, but it didn’t make the place any less eerie.

Midoriya glanced back at the building they came out from. Unlike the front of the club that had nothing but a black door, the back looked more like an ordinary house. There were windows and all, but the hallway they walked through clearly didn't have any other doors that lead to the rest of the house.

He frowned, feeling as though he had overlooked something important.

The moment the last person—Koda, walked out, the waiter closed the door shut. In the silence, everyone could hear the clicking sound of the lock being turned on the other side. They stared at the door, then to one another, and finally to the empty street.

Perhaps…they should have asked for directions?

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

BAM

The slamming sound of the iron door was drowned out by the music and voices. When a group of oddly dressed people (especially one with hands all over his body) walked into the club, it attracted some attention, but the people around just brushed it off as some weird early Halloween cosplays.

Shigaraki Tomura looked around the club before his eyes landed on the glass staircase with black-suited men standing guard.

“There.” He walked straight towards the stairs with his hands tucked in his pockets.

When those suited men saw them approaching, they immediately blocked their path.

“State your business,” one of the men demanded.

"Tell your boss we're here to see him," Shigaraki told him.

The guards didn’t seem put off by his attitude. One of them went up the stairs, most likely to report while the other two continued to stand guard.

The League of Villains didn’t mind the wait. They stood there idly, taking their time to look around the club.

Shigaraki eyed every person that passed by them. After taking in his surroundings, his eyes eventually landed on that stage. There was a band playing and a singer singing, but that singer was only mediocre in terms of looks.

Nothing about him stood out.

This made Shigaraki frown as he thought back to all the information Dabi and Mr. Compress had collected.

For an organization that controlled an entire city, there was very little information about them. The top brass within the Port Mafia were a complete mystery, yet strangely enough there was information on the boss himself—as well as those next in line to the position of boss.

The first and foremost piece of information they found was about the succession battle—or the Selection War as they called it. This peaceful little city wasn’t as peaceful as it seemed. It had only been two short days and they’ve already discovered countless organizations moving within the shadows.

And whenever there was movement, there were always two individuals involved.

The White Reaper and the Rabid Dog of the Port Mafia.

It was as if all the eyes within Yokohama were on these two so-called successors. While they couldn’t find any information as to what their powers are, one thing for certain is that the White Reaper and the Rabid Dog were no friends. Everyone in the underground knew that if these two were put in the same room, they would tear each other apart and wouldn’t stop until one side is dead.

The next piece of information would be about the boss of this joke of a crime syndicate.

It was said that four years ago, the previous boss of the Port Mafia suddenly retired, handing over his position to the current boss. Where that retired boss went, no one knows. All they knew was that the new boss was formerly nicknamed Demon Prodigy in the underground world.

While they weren’t able to find out why he had gotten such a name, they were able to come across some interesting gossip, and that was this club right here.

It seemed that the Port Mafia boss had his eyes on one of the singers. Since that singer only sings on Tuesday nights, the Port Mafia boss will always come to the club at this time without fail.

Shigaraki looked up when the guard came back down and gave a curt nod to his companions. Without a word, they stepped aside, making way for the uninvited guests. Shigaraki didn't spare these grunts another look as he walked upstairs with the rest trailing behind him. 

Although he looked completely laid back, Shigaraki’s mind was turning as he played out countless scenarios of what this Demon Prodigy would be like. At the same time, two phrases continuously circled inside his head.

These were phrases that were heard repeatedly during Dabi and Mr. Compress’s investigation. Whenever the Port Mafia was mentioned, these two phrases would turn up without fail.

“Those who oppose the Port Mafia will be crushed by vicious gravity.”

And,

“Double Black.”

Shigaraki exercised his fingers as he arrived at that last step. Ruby red eyes locked on to the man sitting in a black round armchair with guards lined up beside him. There were three guards on each side, each of them dressed in the same fashion as the guys at the staircase.

The leader of the League of Villains had run countless simulations inside his head of how their first meeting would go.

…Never had he imagined it to be like this.

“Oh my!” Magne had to suppress a delightful gasp as the rest of the League of Villains arrived. Like Shigaraki, their eyes naturally fell to the person sitting at the center of the platform.

The man has short brown-hair curling at the tips and was dressed in tailored black suits with a long maroon scarf hung on his neck.

And sitting on his lap was another man.

This second man was dressed differently than the rest of the suited men here. Anyone could tell he was one of those locals that came to a nightclub to have fun. His clothes were disheveled with the straps of his tank tops falling off his shoulders and his jacket pulled down to his elbows.

Long slender fingers of the brown-haired man slid into those wavy orange locks. At first, he stroked the hair as if it were the finest silk, but the next moment he fisted the strands and pulled harshly.

The orange-haired man fell back with a sharp gasp leaving his open mouth before the rest of his voice was sealed by a pair of hungry lips.

Even with the loud music, the League of Villains could hear the moans and slick sounds being produced between these men’s connected lips.

None of them could see the face of the brown-haired man. With his head turned to the right, the only thing they were able to see were the bandages covering his left eye.

When Shigaraki snapped out of shock and disgust, he noticed that it wasn’t just the face. The man’s neck and even his arms were covered in bandages. The leader of the League of Villains furrowed his brows as he squinted at the redhead.

This must be that singer the Port Mafia boss had his eyes on.

Finally, the brunet pulled away from those kiss swollen lips with a wet pop. The sound made Shigaraki gag, but he held it back. His crimson eyes were locked onto the man like a hawk as he watched that face slowly turned, revealing a single dark eye that stared back into his.

“You’re the boss of the Port Mafia?” Shigaraki frowned. He had imagined countless times what this person would look like…but he never would have guessed for him to be so young. As grating as it was, the brunet looked around the same age as him.

“And?” The man leaned back against his chair, not forgetting to pull his little boy toy along. “Who might be asking?”

Shigaraki’s brow twitched. From how casual and laid back the other was behaving, it was obvious that this man didn't view them as a threat at all. 

No, it wasn’t just him.

Crimson eyes fell to the redhead. He was comfortably nestled against the Port Mafia boss like a cat. His head was tucked under the Port Mafia boss’s chin and his fingers played around with the man’s scarf. He occasionally rubbed his cheek against the man’s neck and whispered words they couldn’t hear while blue eyes filled with mockery looked down upon them.  

"You've been watching us for the past two days," Shigaraki stated.

“It’s common knowledge to introduce yourself when you’re the ones that came to me,” the Port Mafia boss pointed out. He grabbed the hand of the hooker that was traveling a little too low and brought it up to his lips for a kiss.

Seeming to take this as a sign to continue where they had left off, the redhead sat up. He wrapped his arms around the brunet’s neck, leaning in for a kiss when he was stopped by a slim finger pressed against his lips.

“Be a dear and go sing me a song.” The brunet spoke softly to the redhead, but loud enough for the League of Villains to hear. With the same finger that touched the redhead’s lips, he hooked the man’s tank top straps and pulled them back over his shoulders. After that, he grabbed the black fedora by his side and placed it onto the other’s head.

The redhead wasn't happy. He glanced at the guests and let out a small huff. He slid off the Port Mafia boss’s lap and sauntered around the table.

He didn’t even look fazed by the group of disturbingly dressed people and walked forward as if expecting them to make way for him. The League of Villains naturally wouldn’t step aside, but the redhead had no intention of backing down either.

In the end, he roughly shoved past them. Each villain received a rude knock on the shoulder as the hooker forcefully walked through them and down the stairs.

“The heck’s his problem?” Twice wondered out loud.

Never had any of these villains been ignored by ordinary civilians like this. It was one thing for the Port Mafia boss, but another thing entirely for a lowly prostitute.

This helped them become fully aware of their situation.

These people of Yokohama—none of them saw them as threats.

"We are the League of Villains," Kurogiri spoke with a hand against his chest as a polite gesture. “We have simply come to pay our respects to the boss of the Port Mafia.”

The brown-haired man crossed his right leg over his left and laced his fingers together over his knees. “Ah yes…” he said as if just remembering, “that little gang that All for One made.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed when the man brought up his teacher’s name. While All for One was no longer a secret to the public after his fight with All Might, Shigaraki had a feeling there was more to it than that.

“Tell me, who came up with the name? I’m quite curious as to who is the one with such a…tasteful naming sense.”

Anyone could hear the sarcasm dripping from the man’s tone as they watched his lips curve upwards in a mocking smile.

“You—” Spinner was going to step up but Shigaraki quickly held out a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“You know about All for One,” the young leader of the League said with certainty.

“Unlike your world that prefers to keep secrets from their citizens, Yokohama is extremely open about our history.” The brunet leaned forward and picked up the glass of whiskey on the table. He swirled the golden fluid inside the cup as ice cubes clattered against one another.

Shigaraki watched this man's movements carefully. In enemy territory, they couldn’t let their guards down. Every movement, every word, Shigaraki was trying to decipher just what this man’s intentions were.

"Have you heard of the story of Icarus?" The Port Mafia boss suddenly asked. No one in the League of Villains responded, but the brunet didn't mind the lack of response and continued. "Despite his father’s warning, he grew too confident in his newfound ability to fly and flew too close to the sun. In the end, his wings melted off and he drowned in the sea.”

“What is your point?” Shigaraki gritted out.

“Oh? You don’t understand?” The man blinked innocently. “Then perhaps you’ll understand a fairytale better? Once upon a time, there was a little ant that viewed the world around him with contempt. He didn’t understand why he should work for the sake of the colony just because he was born as an ant. So when a mysterious power began to appear, he used all of his tiny legs to grasp onto this power. He decided that instead of continuing to serve the Queen, he would become the King and create a new world governed by new laws.”

The clanking sounds of ice cubes continued as the man swirled his glass around and around.

"He gathered his little ant followers and beat the opposing ants that stood in his way—including his brother who had hatched out of the same egg as him. He successfully took over the colony, but, overgrown with confidence, he decided to take over the world. As the first step in his conquest, he decided to target the elephant that lived near the ants' nest. With his little army of ants, they stormed into the elephant's territory…only to be squashed under its feet."

The man grinned at the League of Villains and took a small sip of his whiskey.

“They tried to bite the elephant, but their jaws were so weak and small that they couldn’t even break through the dried mud clinging onto its skin. They tried to crawl towards the elephant’s face and ears, but the elephant only needed to stomp its feet to shake them off its body. They tried to overwhelm the elephant with their numbers, but all the elephant needed to do was blow through its trunk and the ants would be swept away into the wind.

In just a matter of minutes, the army of ants was no more. The only one that remained was that tiny little ant that started this fight. In a panic, that little ant jumped into the ocean to escape the elephant, not knowing how it was so insignificant that the elephant never even saw them as enemies, but mere pests."

As the brunet spoke, he slowly poured the whiskey onto the floor, little by little until only ice cubes were left.

"A funny story, no?" The Port Mafia’s boss looked up, his dark eye locking directly with Shigaraki’s through the gaps between the fingers on his face.

Shigaraki was seething. His hands were clenched tightly by his sides and his body was shaking with rage.

Kurogiri tensed, ready to warp them out any second. It wouldn’t be wise for them to face off against the Port Mafia on their territory. Just as the dark purple mist on his body began to flicker, Shigaraki’s shaking stopped.

Kurogiri stared at Shigaraki in surprise. He hadn’t expected the boy to be able to restrain himself and force himself to calm down under such blatant provocation.

“So...” The Port Mafia boss leaned back to get comfortable in his seat, like a child would before playing his favourite movie. “What does the League of Villains want from the Port Mafia?”

"I came with a proposition, but it looks like there's no need anymore," Shigaraki spoke in a dull tone, causing the man to raise his brow.

"HEY, ALL OF YOU OUT THERE!" A voice screamed so loudly that it felt like the entire nightclub was shaking. “WHERE’S YOUR ENERGY?! DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE ALL DONE!”

A massive wave of cheers shook the club even harder than the loud voice had. The League of Villains turned. From this high up view, they were able to perfectly see the stage below. A familiar redhead was standing on the center of that stage, holding a mic in his hand and surrounded by a band.

“IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?! THE NIGHT IS JUST STARTING, SO LET’S HEAR SOME REAL CHEERS!”

If possible, the cheers increased by tenfold.

Dabi was frowning.

Spinner had to cover his ears.

Twice, affected by the mood, cheered along with the crowd.

Magne also looked quite interested.

Toga just yawned.

Mr. Compress tapped his staff lightly against the floor.

As for Shigaraki and Kurogiri, the two of them only spared a brief look behind them before focusing back onto the Port Mafia’s boss. Said boss didn’t seem to care much about them, as he too was focused on the stage below.

“Hit it up, Tachihara!" The redhead snapped his fingers. The booming sound of guitars echoed across the club as the crowds roared.

“Woah uh oh—oh oh!

Woah uh oh—oh oh!”

The drummer with a bandage across his nose sang into the mic as his drumsticks danced across the drums.

“Woah uh oh—oh oh!

Woah uh oh—oh oh!”

The colourful spotlights that had been flashing across the club were replaced by flickering red lights. The yellow spotlight that had been shining on the stage also bled into red. In an instant, everything within the club was swallowed by the red light and at the center of that light was a single man.

“Woah uh oh—oh oh!

Woah uh oh—oh oh!”

Blue eyes slowly parted, looking across the crowd and towards the VIP section. At that moment, the redhead’s aura completely changed—as if he had become a completely different person from when he was sitting on the Port Mafia boss’s lap.

He pressed his lips into the cold metal of the mic and began to sing.

“What is the true identity of this uncomfortable feeling

Which lurks gently inside of you as if being entangled

Soaking me so empty that it burns me out

And having the chaotic afterimage lingering!

Receiving unwanted stimulation and peaceful contradiction at the same time

Making me subtly and exquisitely crazy!”

Shigaraki clicked his teeth at the disturbance, but he looked back at the Port Mafia boss and continued where they got cut off.

"I've always wondered what a city ruled by criminals was like," Shigaraki said as he held his hands up. “Everything that Villains have been fighting for—a world completely free of the existence of Heroes and law which Yokohama has achieved...”

The League of Villains all stared at the Port Mafia boss sitting high up on his throne.

“I’m super troubled to taste the act of being loved

Continue to pay for the pain it brought

Opening a trance enough to make my heart shiver for a moment

I’m being controlled by the increasing anguish

Even though I know it’s only a Momentary Love.”

“It’s nothing but a joke.” Shigaraki’s hands fell to his side from the lack of motivation. “The boss of the world’s largest crime syndicate is here drowning himself in alcohol and hookers while the city is being run by a government that is still functional. The Port Mafia is nothing but a joke." Shigaraki huffed disinterestedly as he turned and began to walk off.

The rest of the League followed him. Obviously, they shared the same thought.

“Even though I deemed this stretched love to be no good

I thought that I wanted to hear more of your pure and innocent voice

That I heard while gazing at the night sky

The moon up there is beautiful.”

Shigaraki only felt the red light around him brightening before his entire body was slammed into the floor. The marble tiles underneath him shattered from the force. He let out a dry, breathless cough, having the air knocked out of his lungs. He tried to move, but it was as if an invisible force was crushing him from above.

He couldn’t even lift a finger!

When red eyes darted around, he realized that he wasn’t the only one. The rest of the League was the same. They were all lying within a crater created by the force, all of them unable to move. Shigaraki practically broke his neck trying to turn his head just so he could look up at that man sitting high up in his seat.

That single blackened eye was looking down at them with a smirk lifting his face.

“I’ve thrown away those regrets of love 200 million years ago

This uncertain despair is a necessity

This wild and crazy dance which supposed to be flat, just like a scattered flower petal

I became too absorbed to it that I keep tripping my footsteps

Opening a trance enough to make my heart shiver for a moment

I’m being controlled by the increasing anguish

Even though I have this Momentary Love.”

“You know, it’s very rude to talk during a performance,” the Port Mafia boss said disapprovingly while tapping his finger over his knee. That seemed to be a signal as the six guards by his side whipped out their guns and took aim at the group immobilized on the floor.

Immediately, Kurogiri tried to activate his Quirk to warp them away, but they only saw a blur of black, and Kurogiri was gone.

No one could react to what had happened.

It was only when they heard a loud crash followed by the wind blowing by did they realize what had happened. This power—whatever it is—had flung Kurogiri away.

“Let’s try to forget you little by little, until I can remember you no more! ALL TOGETHER!”

“WOAH UH OH—OH OH!” The crowds sang to the song. “WOAH UH OH—OH OH!”

“I want to swallow a flood contains only of joy

I’m super troubled to taste the act of being loved~!”

“WOAH UH OH—OH OH!

WOAH UH OH—OH OH!”

“Gravity…!!” Shigaraki gritted his teeth.

"I wonder…just what gave you the impression that you could come and go as you wished?” The Port Mafia boss chuckled as he rested his elbow on the chair’s armrest and leaned his cheek against his knuckles.

“I want to swallow a flood contains only of joy

I’m super troubled to taste the act of being loved~!”

The singer grabbed the microphone stand and stomped a foot onto the speaker at the edge of the stage. “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?! SCREAM LIKE YOU MEAN IT!”

“WOAH UH OH—OH OH!” The crowds were practically hollering from the top of their lungs at this point. Their faces were all red, not certain if it was due to the screaming or the red lighting.

“Continue to pay for the pain it brought

Opening a trance enough to make my heart shiver for a moment!”

WOAH UH OH—OH OH!”

“This is Yokohama. Ants should crawl back into their hole.” The Port Mafia boss raised his glass of ice cubes, sending them a meaningless cheer.

“I’m being controlled by this increasing anguish—NOW SING IT!” The singer pulled the mic away from his lips and pointed it towards the audience.

“LEAVE THE KISS FOR LATER!” The crowd sang together in perfect harmony.

At the very back of the club, where no one paid any attention to, the members of the League of Villains were lifted into the air one by one.

“I’M BEING CONTROLLED!”

“EVEN THOUGH I KNOW IT’S ONLY A MOMENTARY LOVE!!”

Their bodies crashed through the sturdy brick wall. The sound from the impact of their bodies and the shattering wall were drowned by the singing of the crowd. Within the quiet night outside, the villains flew across the street and smashed into the building on the other side.

Shigaraki slammed into the ground. He would have bounced off from the force and kept rolling, but Kurogiri appeared, warping all of them away and back to the warehouse that they set as their temporary hideout.

Even though Kurogiri intervened, many of them suffered heavy bruises and maybe even a cracked bone somewhere from the rough treatment. Shigaraki coughed as he painfully pushed himself over so that he was lying on his back and staring at the dirty ceiling of the warehouse. 

“Do you have your answers now, Shigaraki Tomura?” Kurogiri came over to check on the boy he was assigned to watch over.

“Ah,” Shigaraki slowly smirked.

Everything had gone according to his plans. All thanks to these Port Mafia bastards looking down on them.

Just from these two days of the Port Mafia watching over them, Shigaraki already knew that they didn’t see the League of Villains as threats. It was this underestimation that gave Shigaraki the confidence to waltz into their little party. If the Port Mafia had no intention of killing them before, they wouldn’t now.

This meeting only further confirmed this.

These Ability users obviously thought they were much stronger and looked down on people with Quirks. As the people sitting at the top of the food chain, it was even more so for them. These were people who wouldn’t bat an eye at a tiny ant crawling by their feet because, to them, they weren’t even worth wasting their time on. Even if that ant got in their way, the most they would do was kick it away. To those with their heads tilted so high up, allowing their shoes to become dirty from mere ants was the same as smearing dirt over their faces. 

That's why Shigaraki betted on the fact that the Port Mafia boss wouldn't kill them and lured him into using his power.

His bet was spot on.

“Crushed by vicious gravity…” Shigaraki recited as his body throbbed.

The way he was slammed down, lifted, and thrown…this wasn’t something as simple as turning gravity on and off. That man can freely change the gravitation of objects.

Shigaraki was a hundred percent certain that it was gravity manipulation.

Then here comes the main questions…

How many people can that man control?

What was the range of that power?

Were there conditions to activate that power?

Shigaraki recalled that man’s smug look and the way his fingers so gently held the delicate glass in his hand. For someone that had used his power on eight people, he didn’t look the slightest bit affected. His grip over the glass didn't change either. If it were a Quirk, there would have at least been some signs of strain on the body, but there were none.

Even though Kurogiri had explained that these Abilities worked differently from Quirks, Shigaraki was certain that even amongst Abilities, this gravity manipulation was amongst the strongest ones. Why else would that phrase about gravity constantly pop out in their investigation?

Shigaraki also knew that the power the man displayed was simply a demonstration. It was most likely not even a fraction of his real strength. That was the kind of person their opponent was.

Confident and arrogant—yet he had the strength and the brain to back it up. Shigaraki wasn’t going to naively think that the word prodigy only refers to his strength. The man was no doubt a cunning one. However, he was a young man who lived at the very top of the food chain, believing that the entire world revolved in the palm of his hand.

Shigaraki laughed.

He didn’t care how he looked to the others right now. All he knew was that he was going to crush that man. He will pull him down from the clouds and crush him along with that pitiful pride.

So what if the ants in the story failed to take down the elephant? That was a story from hundreds of years ago. The large elephant in that story was long gone. The only thing left behind was an elephant living inside a fortress created by its ancestor's remains. An elephant that had grown up without any natural predators around.

After this confrontation, Shigaraki was certain that the Port Mafia would remove their surveillance on them. For an overly confident and prideful man like that, he would purposely do it to further humiliate them and show them how insignificant they were.

Now, they have free access to this entire city.

“We’ll see who gets the last laugh, Port Mafia.” Shigaraki cackled.

The Selection War.

That will certainly be interesting.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

“This is bad!” Kaminari panicked as he looked around the empty street. How could there not be a single person around?! “We’re completely lost, aren’t we?!”

“What should we do?” Hagakure looked around at her classmates. “Should we call the teachers?”

“But if we call they’ll find out!” Ashido gasped in horror. She can already imagine their homeroom teacher’s face when he hears of what they did!

“Hey! Look over there!” Mineta pointed towards the park in front of them. Everyone looked over and saw the shadow of a person sitting on a wooden bench beneath a lamppost. Relieved that they had finally found somebody, they hurried over.

Once they were close enough to get a clearer look as to what the person looked like, all of them were shocked.

Sitting on the bend was not an adult, but a child.

They couldn't tell if the child was a boy or a girl, but the kid had split coloured hair like Todoroki. When the kid turned around at the sound of their approach and looked up, the first thing the teens noticed were those mismatched eyes.

The left iris had a circle, while the right was a star.

Having been born and raised in a world where people came in all shapes and forms, none of Class 1-A was surprised in any way by the child’s eyes. What surprised them was that when the kid turned, the doll in their arms became visible.

It was a grotesque looking doll bleeding out of its hollowed eyes.

“Who are you?” The child asked in a sweet, angelic voice.

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[hoofle--poof-blog]

I Dare You To Camp In the Forbidden Forest

     “Dancing with a stranger”, blaring in the background hardly making the truth or dare game audible, at what was the biggest party of the year so far at Hogwarts. Taking place in the Hufflepuff common room, where it is most likely that all houses would feel welcome to party this hard. In the circle of Indian style player’s was Luna, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Cedric, Hannah Abbott, Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, drug in by Pansey who everyone assumed made him play in hopes someone would dare her to kiss him, Cho, and, of course in the middle of all of the action, the Weasley Twins. 

     Making it quite evident she was tipsy, from across the circle Hannah took over the questioning once the bottle stopped on Harry. She pointed somewhat aggressively,” Harry! Truth or Dare? Pick!” Harry chuckled at how she was acting and chose truth. “ Is it true that your favorite part of this entire party is how short Cho’s skirt is?”, she asked before giggling. Harry turned scarlet, from a mixture of the firewhiskey in his system, but more from the question. He peered over at Cho who was smiling, making him turn more red. “Well I think the shade of tomato he has turned speaks for him”, joked George. Malfoy acting like he wanted to throw up at the thought of Harry having a romantic emotion, making Blaise smile his cheeky smile before getting up,”this blunt won’t smoke itself, see you prats later”, winking over at Hermione, who gave Ron a confirming I don’t know what he’s referring to look. As the game went on Luna kissed Cedric, earning a heavier blush from both of them than anyone had ever expected, Hermione did three back to back shots of single malt whiskey like no one expected her to so easily do, and Ron’s sour luck brought his ex girlfriend Lavender into the circle and the bottle dared them to kiss one last time, earning a slap to Ron’s face as he went in for the kiss after breaking Lavender’s heart not even a month before. Hermione was not pleased with him willingness and almost left the circle until Harry reassured her. 

     Somehow amidst all of the alcohol and body odor, the party in the hufflepuff common room still smelled of fresh baked cookies. A house elf that wasn’t busy crowd surfing or burning up the dance floor brought Ron another fire whiskey, to the disapproval of hermione, head S.P.E.W. advocate “I have an idea of how to make this game more interesting”, stated Pansy as the game began to die out. Looking at her intrigued, yet skeptic, because after all she is Pansy Parkinson. At this cue, out of fear of Pansy trying to kiss him, Draco got up without saying a word and walked away. “I dare all of you to go camp in the forbidden forest..tonight”

     Everyone looked around nervously at each other, no one wanting to be the weak link who refused to do it. Luna spoke up first,” I would love to see my Thestrals this time of night.. Wonder what they get up to?”, she asked looking aimlessly upwards. “Are you bloody mad?”, asked Ron looking around hoping everyone else wouldn’t want to. “What’s a matter Ron, need the house elves to bring you another whiskey?”, Hermione asked, making Ron puff his chest out. Fred and George announced they have a massive house sized tent and the rest was history.

     “So you’re telling me there’s still a comfortable party going on in the hufflepuff common room and we thought it a great idea to come camping in the FORBIDDEN (lots of verbal emphasis on forbidden) forest all because Pansy dared us to and Lunie said she wanted to visit the thestrals at 2 am? ...No offense Luna” “non taken”, she smiled and she meant it. “Oh Wonnie stop it, aren’t you in for a little adventure?”, Harry joked as everyone was still having a laugh about his incident earlier with Lavender. As soon as the eight of you crunched the leaves just outside of the forbidden forest everyone came to a halt. It was unspoken, but of course everyone was nervous, except Luna of course. 

     When she took the first step into the forest something between her fearless nature and the moonlight shining on her made her look like she belonged exactly where she was, leading a 2 am pack into the forbidden forest. Cedric was first to follow, along with everyone else. “I have never seen a Thestral before so I’m excited after hearing how cool you said they were”, he began which next led into Luna’s explanation about whether he had seen someone die or not will be what his ability to see the creature depends on, then ended with a warning about the naughty Nargle’s of the forbidden forest.

     Upon walking for a good five minutes it was decided amongst the group the best idea to stop before they run into an unfriendly resident of the forest on an open dirt area between thousands of never ending trees so tall they may be the first trees ever planted. Fred threw down the tent, which initially appeared like any regular unsuspecting muggle tent until assembled.

     Five minutes later and everyone had worked together to get out of the cold and into the tent. Mouths agape as they entered one by one. Leave it to Fred and George to bring a shock. It was a charmed tent they had of their dad’s, which from the outside looked like little more than a tp, but once you entered was the size of a house, however kept the shape of a tent. Tapestry was lavishly strewn from top to bottom, there were couches, rooms, stairs, even a tiny kitchen. Everyone stared with mouths agape for a minute, before Harry tapped George on the back,”nice one boys”. They thanked him in unison, than with a cheeky grin on his face Fred said,” there’s 9 of us and four beds good luck everyone.. Oh make that six.. Two for us”, then concluded in unison with George,”goodnight”, as they went their separate ways to their bedrooms before anyone could object, snickering.

     Just before bed plans were coming out of Hermione’s mouth Luna faded away from the group. Cedric backed away a few steps behind. Everyone looked around at each other, unaware they even knew each other before tonight, because they really didn’t. “I knew they’d be here”, Luna said petting an invisible figure. Cedric only found Luna after she spoke, just ten steps to the left of the tent. He stepped over behind her, observing her with the creature, but mostly observing her. “I can’t see them but I believe they are as beautiful and gentle as you say they are, Luna”, he said looking at Luna’s face lit only by moonlight shining through the trees. “Can you guide my hand?” Luna took his hand at once, spreading an unspoken immediate warmth between the two. “He’s happy with your presence, I am too Cedric Diggory”, she spoke still focused on petting the Thestral with his hand. For the minutes to come it was just the two of them. Cedric inching closer forward to Luna, Luna glancing back at Cedric every now and then. “Are you cold?”, Luna’s breath could be seen at this point making it obvious she was. Cedric took his Hufflepuff scarf off and she graciously accepted a few inches from his face, readying herself to have the scarf wrapped around her. It smelled like him, musky and sensual. “I’ve always prefered the house colors of hufflepuff to ravenclaw” “I must say they look great on you Luna” She felt immediately warmer for more reasons than the scarf. Cedric took a chance and closed the gap, placing his hands on Luna’s back. “Hey Luna?” “Yes Cedric?” He touched his nose to hers just barely,”Do you think the Thestral will mind if I kiss you?” “Thestrals don’t mind much, so probably not, I’ve been waiting for hours” With that Cedric pulled her to him, before he even had the time to crack a dorky smile from her response.

     “What do you think is taking those two so long out there?”, Ron said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down looking around at the other three on the couch. Harry chuckled in response, until the next moment Cho’s head tilted all the way landing next to her on Harry’s cardigan padded shoulder. “Well this is the best night of Harry’s young life.. Forget that time you survived Lord Voldemort’s killing curse”, Harry blushed and showed a smile, shy even when Cho wasn’t conscious to see it. “I guess that just means it’s you and me left”, Ron said sleepy and tipsy eyed, over to Hermione. She gasped and gave him a look that let him know he messed up,”Oh! Is that what you think of me?!”, she whisper yelled at him. He took her hand, realizing how it sounded,”you know I wouldn’t have it any other way Hermione”, lifting her hand up to kiss it. She blushed, making her face soften. She looked over to check Harry’s state of consciousness, noticing he too was asleep. Before leaning in closer to Ron, taking his shirt sleeve between her finger whispered,”You remember when we were just second years and you asked me to  teach you how to kiss a girl..?” Ron only nodded silently, eyes wider than usual finding his luck hard to believe. “Well that will be the closest you’ll ever get to knowing what it’s like to be paired up with me at 3 am at a couples party”, she said resuming her normal speaking volume. Earning a snicker from Harry, blowing his sleeping cover.

     As the night went on when everyone else really was asleep but Ron and Hermione, Ron had beat her 3 for 3 games of chess, softening the blow by remind her he still doesn’t know how to brew glory and bottle fame. Leaves started crunching all around and for a moment Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm and they looked at eachother frightened. What could have stumbled upon them in the forbidden forest?

     They inched, tip toeing over to the edge of the tent, and looked at eachother confused at first. “orion's belt seemed to hang a little to the left last night..you know what that means. A shift in the forest relationships is coming” Hermione and Ron looked at eachother knowingly,”centaurs”

     Overview of the tent once everyone was asleep at 4 am: Luna and Cedric finally stopped whispering for her to fall asleep on the bed, him to fall asleep on the floor still holding her hand.

     Harry, accompanied by Cho still sleeping on his shoulder cursing him with the inability to move until she wakes up. He didn’t mind too much though.

     Hermione and Ron ended up spooning after Hermione asked,” in 5th year I think it’s time I teach you to hold someone”, before she could even finish the sentence he’d jumped in bed next to her. Ron lay awake to watch Hermione talk about arithmetic in her sleep like he’d heard her do in the neighboring room of the Burrow.

     Then there were Fred and George, who apparated back into the castle the moment they closed the door to their bedrooms.

[thenamesreader]

Good In Me AU Character Profile

Aika Kaneshiro- SHSL Musical Artist

Gender: Female

Height: 5′ 5″

Weight: 48 kg (107 lbs)

Birthday: April 16

Chest: 77 cm

Blood Type: A

Likes: Mukuro, Ibuki, music (obviously), cotton candy (sweet things in general actually), and flowers

Dislikes: Bullies, missing homeroom, people disrespecting her profession

Affiliations: Hope’s Peak Academy’s 78th Class, Class 78-A

Appearance: Aika is a light-brown skinned girl with sunflower gold hair and teal eyes. Her school uniform is slightly altered where she has the skirt switched out for pants. She wears the same typical outfit with a brown vest over a white dress shirt with a red ribbon tied around her neck and black flats.

Her casual wear consists of a brown duster, red scarf, white t-shirt, black two-inch boots, and black jeans. There are usually a pair of round brown sunglasses on the top of her head.

Personality: Aika is a kind and cheerful girl despite always making herself sleep-deprived since she likes to stay up to create songs. She’s also somewhat of a hopeless romantic because of her feelings for Mukuro, becoming a complete disaster if she can make her smile or laugh. Like how Mukuro is way out of touch with her emotions, Aika is too in-touch with her emotions. She tends to react before she thinks which has gotten her hurt a few times. They sort of balance each other out, though, with the musician helping Mukuro come out of her shell while Mukuro helps her handle her emotions.

Despite her flaws, she can be silly, charismatic, and filled to the brim with love for everyone.

Talents & Abilities: 

SHSL Music Artist: Aika has always had a passion for music for as long as she could remember. She started performing and playing music as soon as she could walk. Her first instrument was the piano, which she loves to play in her free time along with the guitar. She and Sayaka Maizono tend to compete since they tend to be top on the charts.

Sharp Hearing: Because of her profession, Aika has a more advanced hearing. She can tell voices apart, easily.

Advanced Dexterity: Aika is good with her hands since she plays so many instruments.

History

Early Life

Aika was raised by her father and aunt since her mother left when she was really young. She grew up surrounded by music, her aunt always singing her lullabies or playing different types of instruments for her. She would always wake up to music playing throughout the house. Most of the tv programs she watched were either musicals or music documentaries.

At the age of 4, her aunt started teaching her how to play the piano. She enjoyed it very much and played anytime she could. When she woke up, when she got bored, when she was sad, when she was happy, when she was angry. The piano was her life. After she mastered piano, she taught herself to play guitar and began writing her own songs.

At the age of 13, she found a band called “Black Cherry” and instantly fell in love, listening to their music on repeat. She even started to imitate their music, practicing and practicing until welts covered her hands.

She attended Sixth Black Root Middle School and Black Root High School with Sayaka Maizono. They attended the same classes and were pretty friendly with each other.

She was soon scouted by Hope’s Peak Academy.

Current

Unlike Maizono who did some... unethical things to achieve her dreams, Aika didn’t and worked hard on her own with the support of her father and aunt. She made sure that she got what she wanted the right way.

After the 78th Class Welcoming Ceremony, Aika ran into Ibuki Mioda when she found the music room. After recognizing that Ibuki had been a member of “Black Cherry” and learning that Ibuki had listened to some of her music, they hit it off. Ibuki soon became somewhat of a mentor to her.

A few weeks after meeting her class and her homeroom teacher, Aika bumps into a girl who roomed across to her who introduces herself as Mukuro Ikusaba and Mukuro’s sister, Junko. She found herself, instantly, attracted to Mukuro and very put-off by Junko’s actions, but, was otherwise able to ignore it.

She soon found herself spending more time with Mukuro because of this, much to Junko’s annoyance.

Relationships

Her Father and Aunt

Aika has a very good relationship with her family. She talks about them, fondly, and always says that they would love Mukuro. In her room, she has a picture that sits on her desk of the day before she left for Hope’s Peak with her aunt and father in it as they celebrated her success.

Mukuro Ikusaba

Aika rooms across the hall from Mukuro. After running into her after accidentally sleeping through her alarm, she found herself, quickly, falling head-over-heels for her. This causes the musician to be somewhat protective of her when something happens. Mukuro is the reason she tries to sleep more since they made a deal with each other in order for Mukuro to start eating more.

The two tend to hang out with each other after class in the courtyard and just talk about anything that comes to mind. She expressed her attraction a few times to Mukuro, in more of a joking way, and has asked her to marry her on multiple occasions but never in front of anyone else after the soldier confessed she was unsure how anyone else would perceive it. Aika actually believes it has to do with how Junko would perceive it.

Ibuki Mioda

Aika and Ibuki are pretty much the best of friends. Though, her bond with her fellow musician probably wouldn’t come as close as she does with her class. Aika and Ibuki can be found in Ibuki’s classroom during lunch or the music room when either of them are free and just play music or come up with songs.

Aika is always pretty relaxed around Ibuki, sometimes listening to her upperclassman ramble about things she’s thinking about.

Sayaka Maizono

Aika and Sayaka are constantly competing with each other to see who can top the charts since their two of the top young artists in the country. They're pretty friendly with each other besides that. They tend to mostly tease each other when they see each other in the hallway.

Mikan Tsumiki

Aika tends to visit her a lot because of her bad habits because she’s either sick or she wore her hands out practicing. Because of her sweet nature, Aika tends to give Mikan gifts and help her out against bullies like Hiyoko.

Mikan often doesn’t know how to pay her back so she gives her anpan as thanks.

Makoto Naegi

Makoto and Aika are pretty friendly with each other as well. She has run into him a few times and she believes he is a real sweetheart. Because of his nature, she gave him the nickname of “Kibo”.

Teruteru Hanamura

Aika finds his behavior gross and disgusting and only goes to him for his cooking. She has to give him credit for something if she were to be honest with herself.

Nagito Komeada

Aika finds him... strange. From the few times they’ve interacted, he has commented on how he sees a special future for her. Aika always interprets it as something to do with her music career.

Junko Enoshima

Aika and Junko have an antagonistic relationship. Junko always gets annoyed since Aika has all of Mukuro’s attention. Aika has also witnessed first hand the abuse that gets hurled at Mukuro by her sister. She’s sometimes snapped at Junko because of it. Some of their fights have gotten bad enough that Junko’s stabbed her in the shoulder and threatened her life. Otherwise, she ignores anything that Junko says about her unless it comes to her profession. Most of the comments that come out of Junko’s mouth anyway is something about how Junko feels she’s really important somehow. She also finds Junko’s obsession with despair disturbing. She feels as if she is planning something, but can’t put her finger on what exactly.

Chisa Yukizome

Aika and Chisa have a pretty strong relationship. Aika might not be her student, but Chisa has a soft spot for her. Since Aika tends to visit her classroom a lot, she tends to be warm and friendly towards her. She tends to take a more motherly approach with Aika and considers her an honorary student of Class 77-B.

Kyoko Kirigiri

Aika is acquainted with the detective. She finds her kind of scary, though, because she feels as if she could read her mind.

Quotes

“I’m Aika Kaneshiro, the Super High School Level Music Artist. I’m in Class 78-A. Um, things to know. Not much. I like music and have bad sleeping habits if that’s what you want to know. Or would you like to know more? My favorite color is blue and my favorite flower is a marigold. I also love, love, love cotton candy.”

“Alright! Hold on to your heads- and hold onto your hearts, ladies-because Aika Kaneshiro is here!”

“I’m sorry, Principal Kirigiri! I won’t be late for class again!”

“What’s with this Junko girl on all these magazines? She seems like a brat.” 

“Yeah! Go, Mioda!”

“All women are queens! Anyone who disagrees is a... um. Is a... A loaf of stale bread!”

“I’ve seen a lot of pretty women in my life, but, Mukuro takes the cake.”

“There are only two things I will defend in my life: The love of my life and my music.”

“Hey, Kibo!”

“No pain, no gain!”

“I’m not afraid of some kogyaru! I’ll drop her in a heartbeat!”

“I’ll find whoever burnt Muki’s cookie and make ‘em pay!”

“Hanamura! Stop being a perv!”

“We’re all searching for something that gives us purpose. For me, it was music. Music still gives me purpose, but... I found something else that drives me, too.”

“It’s never too soon in the story for a love confession, Tsumiki! Never!”

Trivia

Her first name, Aika, means “love song” and her last name, Kaneshiro, means “golden castle”

Aika makes a lot of references to IRL bands, such as MCR. 

While playing the piano once, she hits the G-note and starts crying. When asked why she was crying by a fellow classmate passing by, she replies by saying “It just brings back sad memories.” 

Another time, when talking with Maizono, she gets very offended on how she had described her music and replies “I write sins, not tragedies”, an obvious reference to the song by Panic! At The Disco.

She also uses a line from Twenty-One Pilots’ “Stressed Out” in one of her songs.

Aika has many nicknames for Mukuro. She uses “Wolfie” and “Muki” the most, but, she’s called her “Tiger Lily” and “Sarge” on occasion.

Aika is not a fan of British boy bands. She complains that their songs aren’t that different and they all look the same, the only thing being different about them is their names.

She was sent death threats from rabid fans after publicly stating that in an interview.

Aika’s scarf was given to her by her aunt.

Aika did have a brief crush on Sayaka in middle school. She moved on, quickly, though.

Even though she and Junko have a terrible relationship, she wishes she and Junko could be friends in the future.

Aika likes her younger fans better than her older. They’re just so sweet.

Aika’s favorite animal is a cat. She tends to visit Gundham a lot to see the cats he’s found.

[harringrovehouse]

AU where Steve’s Mother is from a small town in the Northern most part of Alaska and they’re just a little too much into Christmas.

Steve takes Billy ‘home’ the second year they’re together, because now Steve’s sure Billy’s the one, the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with and Steve wants his extended family to get to know Billy. So he takes Billy with them to Derevnyasanty, Alaska to the village his grandparents own. It’s rustic, and red and everything is covered with wreaths and holly, and all the residents are much shorter than the standard American. Steve talks Billy’s ear off about his four Aunts and their nine daughters.

“Dancers! All nine of them! It’s nuts man, let me tell you how many times I had to watch their routines growing up!!” Billy watches Steve ramble with a dopey smile on his face. “I have to warn you that my Nana, Mary, she’ll probably try to force feed you milk and cookies the second you get inside the house, we can work those off later, and my Aunt Noel will need our help checking her many, many lists! She’s got one for every member of the family, sorry. I hope Auntie Christy isn’t gonna ask you to dress up as Santa with me, they think it’s funny cause I’m the only boy. Every year I get this huge red coat and this massive black boots but we go to the local children’s clinic and I get to play ‘Santa’ for the day so it isn’t too bad. Aunt Carol is in charge of the deer, she makes sure they’re all penned up for the night and by the time we get there she will just be starting to round them up, can’t wait to see you rope a deer.”

“Just after my body, and at Christmas none the less.” Billy winked and Steve snorted, leaning into the wheel as he laughed.

“My Aunt Tinsel is the youngest, so her kids are pretty young too. They always need help repairing gifts and she’s also in charge of wrapping for the older kids so she’ll definitely need our help at some point.” Steve tossed Bilyl an apologetic look as he turned the car down brick road.

“Tinsel?”

“Yeah. Like the decorations. My family is pretty into Christmas, all my Aunts are born in the summer but they all have Christmasy names. It’s weird but kinda cool.” Steve shrugged. “Even my mom’s name is Christmas themed. She’s Eve, and my Aunt Christy is Christmas. They’re twins.” Billy opened his mouth to ask why on Earth anyone would name their babies Christmas Eve when Steve turned the car again and they came to a stop in front a huge white gold gate. It stood open, a clear invitation that anyone was welcome. Billy stared in awe at the gate, marveling at the beautiful red ribbon that wrapped around the bars, making the whole gate look like a million dollar candy cane. “They never close the gate, I don’t even think the pinpad works anymore.” Steve smiled as he continued up the drive.

Billy marveled as the large main house came into view. It was a huge stone and log cabin, it’s many windows adorn with lights and bushy wreaths. Tiny candles sat on each sill, a bussle of holly under them. Steve beamed at him and Billy stared back, this was a damn winter wet dream.

“Come on, we’ll grab the bags later!” Steve smiled wider and Billy wondered when his cheeks became so red.

“Wear your scarf babe! You’re cheeks are so rosy.” Billy followed Steve out of the car, tightening his scarf as he made his way towards the red front door. A huge pine cone wreath hung between the stain glass panels set in the door. The heavy smell of baking hung around the house, and warmed Billy’s insides. Behind them Steve’s mother and father climbed out of their own car, Eve Harrington smiling ear to ear as she rushed forward, throwing the door open for them.

“Mama! Papa!” She called out. “Tinny! Carol! Christy! Noel!” The sound of dozens of voices chattering away stoped and then an explosion of noise happened, and what seemed to be hundreds of people decended upon them. Billy let out a small yelp as a wave of hands pulled Steve and Eve into the house, leaving him and Jack Harrington standing on the porch.

“Don’t relax just yet.” Jack sent Billy a dark look. “They’ll realize we’re here any second.” And sure enough, a woman slightly older than Eve turned to look at them. Her huge amber eyes widening as she detatched herself from the huge group and made her way to them. She beamed at Billy, and gave Jack a curt look.

“And this must be Billy! Our little Stevie new turtle dove!” Billy nodded, he’s never heard anyone refer to someone’s boyfriend as their ‘turtle dove’. “Hi Jack Frost, blow into to any foreign ports lately?” Billy tired not to snort at the look Jack Harrington gave his sister in law. “Come in! Mama is just finising dinner, once that’s done we’ll put the deer away and then we can eat.” So this must be Aunt Carol, the deer hearder.

Billy followed Aunt Carol into the house, eyes wide as he took in the many, many pictures on the walls. Images of a young Steve sitting a top a man dressed as Santa’s knee, pictures of young Eve and her sister playing with some deer, a huge red wood sleigh filled with boxes and boxes of gifts sitting outside a hospital surrounded by the family and a few of the patients. They looked like such a happy family, it made Billy feel like an imposter.

“Aren’t they lovely!” A warm voice whispered in his ear, and Billy jumped. Behind him stood a plump woman, her grey hair tucked under a limp red cheifs hat. Nana. “We take one every year! The one from last year us above the mantle, come on.” She lead Billy through a maze of halls and into a massive living room. A fire roared in the harth, and a massive 10 foot tall Christmas tree sat in the corner. Presents of every color sat under and in it’s heavy branches. Steve and his mother sat surrounded by people in the middle of the room. Their eyes sparkled, and their skin glowed. Everyone in the room looked like something out of a water color Christmas card. Billy’s mouth fell open, as he watched the scene. “It’s so wonderful to have everyone here for Christmas.” Nana said as she tucked her hands into her apron. “Come help me bring out the coco Billy, then I’ll have them all introduce themselves to you properly.” Billy nodded, following Nana into the kitchen. Where a little over a dozen people were working.

They were short people, and Billy felt bad for staring at them until he saw their ears. Pointed ears, that stuck out under their hair and hats. Elfs? One of them smiled, and handed Billy a tray before returning to her large pot. No, people wearing costumes, right! Nana began loading cup after cup onto the tray, smiling as she dropped different colored marshmallows into each of the cups.

“And a blue one for Billy, you’re favorite color.” Billy wrinkled his nose in embarrassment, Steve didn’t need to tell his family everything about Billy! “Come on now dear.” She lead him back into the living room and guilded him to an ornate coffee table and helped him set the tray down. “Okay, now the fun begins!” And then she starter calling out names. The youngest to the oldest. It started with a small girl, Joy, no older than two, who pushed herself up onto shaky legs and waddled over to her grandma. Billy handed her a small sippy cup filled with warm milk and a sinlge pink marshmellow. Five more girls followed little Joy, Faith, Hope, Ella, Fae, Nicole, before Billy was handed his cup, and then Steve, who got a cup shaped like a Santa. His family giggled and Steve blushed, sipping his coco happily nonetheless. Next the last three girls were called, Mary, May and Dove, then their mothers, Tinsel, Noel, Eve, Christmas and Carol. Finally Nana took her cup, blowing softly at the steam. Six cups remained on the tray, Billy glanced down at them wondering for the first time were the husbands and fathers of these girls were. “They’re in the den downstairs dear, watching the game of all things!” Nana laughed. “Papa is in his work shop right now, I was actually wondering if you and Stevie would take him his coco and remind him that dinner is almost ready. He’s so busy at the moment, but his family still needs him.” Nana lifted the only lidded cup and set it in Billy’s free hand.

Steve disentangled himself from his manu aunts and cousins and made his way over to Billy. “Let me guess, we’re on workshop duty?” Nana laughed softly.

“Well someone needs to stay here and make sure the ham doesn’t burn!” Steve pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before taking the cup from Billy and motioning for him to follow.

“My Granddad’s workshop is in the back yard. He builds toy prototypes for a company based in Anchorage.”

“He makes toys?” Billy asked, carefully avoiding a second smaller tree in the hall that lead to the backdoor. A pile of boots lay next to the door, coats of every color and size lay on the bench next to the huge pile, Steve picked through them before eventually finding his and Billy’s.

“Yeah. Toys of every kind! Some stay here in the US, others go overseas to like Japan and stuff.” Billy shrugged his coat on, taking the cup back from Steve who shrugged his coat on while Billy waited by the back door. “You’d be surprised how in demand toys are.” Steve lead him out of the backdoor and down a stone path, to a second even larger cabin. Smoke billowed from the many chimneys and music could be heard from just behind the doors and windows. Steve didn’t even bother knocking, just pushed his way inside. Billy followed at a slower pace, every bit of Steve family home was amazing. This workshop was filled with toys, old toys, new toys, pictures of toys that dated to the victorian era if Billy was correct.

His mind whirled. Steve’s family was in the toy making business, had been for apprently hundreds of years, they employed short people with ears so pointy they could probably pop balloons, they were obsessed with Christmas, had a freaking deer in their yard. This had to be a joke, Billy turned to smile at Steve who seemed utterly clueless that Billy’s mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. There was no way, Steve’s familt wasn’t, they couldn’t be.

“Oh! There he is!” Steve said pointing up the winding stairs to a figure. A figure all in red, with heavy boots on and a fuzzy hat.

Billy watched, mouth open as the man turned around to face them. His cheeks red, and his smile huge. His belly shook as he laughed, a latge booming ‘Stevie!’ echoed around them followed by what could only be described as a ‘hohoho’. Billy felt Steve take the cup of coco from him, which was good because Billy was sure he was about to faint as he watched his boyfriend cross in front of the many workers to embrace Santa Claus.

[am-i-invisible777]

Tea Party

Cute lil Marvel and Reader(sorta) Fic

This idea came to me, like, two or three months ago. Then I completely forgot about it. Then I remembered it at 3:20AM and frantically wrote this dumpster fire you see here. This was written in 30 minutes, I am very tired. Might come back to someday if someone wants me to. Many mistakes throughout this thing, I didn’t proofread it, did I mention I was tired? Probably better in my head. I’m sorry. No shipping unless you try very hard to make it a shipping thing. Let’s just pretend that all the Avengers are alive and BFFs and live together, kay? Lol, first Marvel fic, go me. 

Summary: You have a Tea Party with the Avengers. Fluff and ridiculous attire up ahead. Set in the first person. (Oh, and you have levitation powers, what are those called? Telekinesis?)

“Mr. Stark, would you like some more tea?” I asked as politely as possible, trying to hold in my giggle. The billionaire gave me a smile and adjusted the comically small, bright pink hat that adorned his head.

“Of course kid, I’d love some.” he said while holding out his teacup. My smile widened for a second before it shifted along with my mood. I concentrated on the teapot sat in the middle of the table, eyebrows furrowed and tongue peeking out, I put all my energy into focusing on the one object. Holding both my hands out and flexing my fingers, I was able to slowly lift the pot up. Shaking slightly, the white and purple pot moved carefully towards Tony before I was finally able to tilt it gently, pouring a generous amount of tea in his cup.

“I did it!” I excitedly breathed, beaming to myself. I was a bit too excited since I almost spilled the rest of the tea into Tony’s lap.

Almost. 

He seemed proud of me though, nodding in approval as he took a long sip of the drink. His approval was something I always strived for, making sure he was around when I practiced and perfected my powers. I still wasn’t good, couldn’t control them well, and was banned from going on missions until I had a full grasp on them, but I knew I was getting better.

“Mr. Sam?” I turned to look at the man sat beside me, not particularly looking happy or upset. Still, he chuckled lowly while fiddling with the large gold feather boa I insisted he wears.

“You do know you can just call me Sam, right?”

“I don’t want to be impolite.” I whispered to him with wide eyes, speaking as if he suggested I arm-wrestle the Hulk. My reaction caused a few giggles at the table, allowing me to smile along with them and stop shaking my own teacup.

“Alright, alright, gimme some more tea.” Sam said, rolling his eyes and pushing his cup forward.

“Sam, ask nicely.” Steve said curtly, holding his cup with both hands and taking a small sip. Sam dismissively shook him off and I could tell the captain rolled his eyes, even behind his gigantic white sunglasses.

“May I please have some more tea, our dear sweet hostess?” Sam asked sarcastically. I gave him a short nod and dragged the pot over with my powers, shaking slightly less as I poured his cup and set the pot back in the middle.

I think was learning.

“Bucky, do you want some honey?” I asked as sweetly as I could.

“No thanks, doll, I-”

“Oh...I-I wasn’t referring to you, Mr. Barnes…” I quietly interrupted him, wishing I didn’t after I saw how his face fell.

“...then...who were you…?” he trailed off before his eyes landed on the Bucky Bear I had sitting right next to me in a pink highchair. The teddy was the only one at the table I let have the cookies and other treats I baked. Sam was struggling to hold back his laughter while Natasha wasn’t, laughing at the disappointed looking Bucky in a cowboy hat and red tie.

“What did the bear say in return?” Thor asked, staring at the plush intently, as if he was waiting for it to move.

“Brother, for the last time-” Loki sighed, bringing his scarf down to talk and explain to Thor for the umpteenth time that the teddy bear doesn’t actually speak. Thor cut him off by waving his pirate hat in his face and telling him to ‘shush’. The God of thunder nodded for me to continue, as if Loki had cut me off before I could answer. I looked down at my bucky bear, leaning down and pretending that he was whispering something into my ear. I nodded and smiled, sitting up to look at Thor.

“He said he’d love some honey.” I responded, starting to levitate the small jar towards me. Thor nodded slowly, eyes never leaving me as I struggled to open the sticky honey jar.

“Fascinating. Your ability to communicate with these creatures while no one else can amazes me.” Thor said with a proud smile. Bruce snickered into his cup beside him, he was the one who told Thor that the bear could speak but only I could understand it.  

Loki rolled his eyes and brought the scarlet scarf up to cover his mouth again while I gave my Bucky Bear two dollops of honey. Seeing as the real Bucky still wasn’t smiling, I set the honey down and pursed my lips.

“Um...Mr. Barnes? Would you like…” I trailed off, looking for something to offer the winter soldier. My eyes landed on the plate of treats that I had given the teddy. “...a cookie?” He gave me a small smirk in response.

“Are you sure the bear wouldn’t mind?” He asked, causing me to smile at him.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing one cookie, right Bucky Bear?” I leaned over to pat the animal on its fuzzy head.  

“...what did it say?” Thor whispered, causing Loki to groan.

“Bucky Bear is a gentleman. He doesn’t mind sharing his snacks.” I answered, putting a cookie on a plate and giving it to Bucky with my actual hands.

“Such a generous kid.” Rhodey commented from under his princess hat.

“Yes, yes he is.” I quipped.

“Hey, wait. No, hold on!” Scott started, giving me an incredulous look ever since I handed over the cookie. “That bear’s been hogging all the snacks the entire time and now he’s suddenly charitable?!” he nearly stood up from the table, causing some of the glitter on his body to disperse everywhere.

“Suck it, Scott.” Bucky mumbled, or at least I think that’s what he said. He currently had a mouthful of cookie and wasn’t exactly using any table manners at the moment.

“Hi, yes, I’d also love dessert?” Tony jokingly said, raising his hand.

“I’ll drink to that.” Natasha agreed, finishing the rest of her tea.

“I swear, that lemon pound cake is just calling my name.” Bruce joined in, moving his St. Patrick's Day shades to his forehead to wink at the plate.

“...I thought we were just supposed to wait until she offered it to us…” Rhodey said quietly.

“Favoritism.” Scott pouted and sat down as I was making no effort to hand anyone anything.

“Ha-ha.” Bucky teased while wiping his hands on his pants, smiling wider now--much to my relief.

“Hey, guys? Can we stop ruining her tea party?” Steve asked, politely setting down his now empty cup on his plate.

“This tea is cold.” Sam commented, looking down in his cup.

“I am Groot.”

“Wait, I’m confused, are we getting those treats or not?” Wanda asked, looking at the rest of the table.

I couldn’t help but laugh at everyone. Moving the plates containing the sugary sweets to the center using my powers, I stood up and gently lifted the now surprisingly empty teapot with the same hand. I gave a side glance to Dr. Strange who had been suspiciously quiet for a little too long. He averted my eyes for a moment, tapping one finger on the rim of his cup, but the smile he had on his face told me everything.

“I’ll go get more tea guys...is that okay?” I asked, having a chorus of different affirmations tossed my way before heading towards the kitchen. My pace quickened once I heard Sam and Bucky start to argue over who would get the apple fritter.

These kinds of moments, kinds of days...they don’t happen often. I swear I could hear the thunderous laughter from my spot in the kitchen. A small smile tugged at my lips as I prepared to make another pot of tea.

Another successful tea party.

Bonus:

“Hey Peter.” I greeted the boy as he walked in. He smiled widely at me and bumped my shoulder playfully.

“Hey...where is everyone?” he questioned, setting his backpack down on a table.

“My room, we’re having a tea party.” I said nonchalantly, watching the kettle heat up.

“Oh, okay then.” he said and started walking over when he suddenly stopped and turned around. “...wait, a what?”

not tagging mutuals since I don’t want ya’ll to see this, watch me delete when I wake up. 

[themurphyzone]

Haunted Ch 4

Ch 4: The World Moves On

Roger didn’t speak to Heinz anymore. Over time, Roger shot up in height. Soon he towered over all the other boys in the village. Mother fussed over his handsome looks, proudly bragging about him to anyone who’d listen. There was no shortage of girls tailing him from a distance. They practically worshiped the ground he trod on. 

It was kind of gross. 

To fill in the time, Heinz practiced levitating heavier objects. He’d managed to lift the cabinet full of gifts and family heirlooms a foot off the ground. And only felt slightly bad about destroying the vase that had been on Mother’s side for five generations. 

He also noticed that people shivered uncontrollably when he floated close to them. Mother and Father had taken to wearing heavy shawls and thick coats, even in the middle of the summer heat. 

Rumors cropped up all over the village about the Doofenshmirtz family and their strange habits. Some said they were vampires who immigrated from Transylvania, seeking fresh blood following a famine in their homeland. Others declared they were servants of a mysterious creature in the forest, posing as humans in order to lull the village into a false sense of security before slaughtering their livestock under the darkness of the new moon. 

Even Roger wasn’t immune to the gossip and stares. However, most people continued to be charmed by his handsome face and compelling voice. 

They always referred to Heinz as an evil spirit. Never by name. Just an evil spirit to be lumped in with a multitude of other evil spirits. 

And he was fine with that. 

The laughter Heinz and Roger once had was nothing more than a distant memory. The plump kid who once enjoyed kickball and doonkleberry cookies had long been replaced by a broad-shouldered young adult. He spoke eloquently, with emphasized ‘t’s and a strange inflection at the end of his sentences. 

The language of Drusselstein was harsh and curt and rude. It was nothing like the melodious river of syllables that flowed out of Roger’s mouth. 

Roger had been practicing a bunch of funny phrases in front of the mirror lately. Heinz felt like he would burst if he had to hear stuff like ‘economic budget’ and ‘it is my pleasure to welcome the French ambassador’ again. He’d given up on making funny faces behind Roger while he did that. 

Annoying his targets wasn’t nearly as much fun when they didn’t react. 

Heinz didn’t see what was so appealing about America. What was wrong with the village? There were gardens to protect here! Father wasn’t so keen on the idea either. He and Mother had shouted nonstop at each other ever since Roger had announced a desire to study political science at Danville University. They practically had to wade through the enormous pile of acceptance letters that Roger collected like candy. 

“Roger is offering to set us up in a nice apartment,” Mother argued. “He’s being generous with that fortune Great Uncle Frederick left him. I have no idea where he got his charity from, because it did not come from your side.” 

Father huffed. 

“Well, I could use a change from this cheap plot,” Mother said as she plopped a bowl of bran mash in front of him. Then she sprinkled a red powder over the kitchen counter, muttering something in a language Heinz didn’t understand. “The evil spirits won’t reach my precious boy there.” 

Heinz would just have to do spooky evil spirit stuff in America then. It couldn’t possibly be that different from Drusselstein. 

Turned out America was completely different than Drusselstein. Heinz had never seen so many colors in his life, much less an enormous city. Blazing neon green lights hung off shops that had a strange assortment of scarf-wearing teenagers. The sky changed from blue to orange-pink to black, and healthy grass lined the paved streets. 

Father didn’t know what he was missing when he stayed behind.

People exchanged friendly pleasantries on the streets, even if they were complete strangers. 

He spent a lot of time observing people when he wasn’t following Roger around the college campus. His classes were boring and dry, just some stuffy old man at the front droning on about the ‘bigger picture’, whatever that meant. 

It was more fun to pick a target and tie their shoelaces together when they weren’t looking, drop acorns on kissing couples, and make people drop their heavy, expensive textbooks to the floor. 

There were ups and downs to life (could he even call it that?) in America, but he was starting to enjoy it. Mother seemed happier too. She’d made friends with several women and they spent a lot of their time walking around the apartment complex with clipboards. Yesterday she’d gone up to Mr. Harrison’s door and told him off because his roses were a fourth of an inch past regulations. 

Yeah, he didn’t really get how she noticed that without measuring it first. 

But the thing he hated most was how the toddlers always ran to their moms when they got scraped from a fall. 

He hated how the toddlers tugged at their mothers’ skirts. 

He hated how the mother would bend down, giving them a hug and kiss on the insignificant cut. Then they’d reach into their purse and pull out a cheesy band-aid with rainbows and dinosaurs. 

He hated how the toddlers would dry their tears and smile back, then run back to the slide or jungle gym and the process would repeat all over again. 

Heinz could never explain the hollowness he felt when he saw those moments. 

The banquet celebrating Roger’s graduation from Danville University was a boisterous affair. As the head of the Alpha Delta Epsilon fraternity, the star player of the Danville University Dolphins tennis team, and the valedictorian of his graduating class, Roger had amassed so many connections and admirers that the Danville Convention Center had included valet parking for guests. 

Heinz sent another set of keys flying, giggling as the valet guys screamed and scrambled after it. 

“Why, with your charming personality, I bet you could even convince the entire Tri-State Area to break off the rest of America and form its own country!” Mr. Aquino roared, clapping Roger on the back as he addressed the adoring crowd. 

“Thank you, Mr. Aquino. But I would like to allow my constituents the final say on such an important matter,” Roger said politely. He waved to a young woman in a crimson dress, who bounced on her heels like a puppy as Roger smiled pleasantly at her. “Valerie, you look marvelous tonight.” 

Valerie squealed, and her friends suppressed their laughter behind her back. Heinz stuck his tongue out at them. Girls were weird. They all squealed like baby Goozims when Roger was nearby. 

“I can’t tell you how proud I am of you,” Mother beamed brightly at Roger. He’d pulled some strings with the rich kids he’d befriended to give her a rather expensive black dress. She even had a necklace imported from some famous diamond mine. 

Heinz covered his eyes and groaned when Mother embraced Roger. Cameras flashed and girls placed their hands over their hearts at such a cute scene. Somehow that managed to be grosser than the girls fawning over him. 

“Please, Mrs. Doofenshmirtz. There’ll be plenty of time for bragging later,” Mr. Aquino laughed as he extracted Roger from her embrace. “Will everyone please make their way to the banquet hall? I believe Roger has a lot of things to say.” 

He elbowed Roger in the ribs playfully as they headed to the stage area. Heinz followed them, glad that he didn’t have to hang around a large crowd anymore. “Especially to a certain someone,” Mr. Aquino winked knowingly. 

Roger patted his coat pocket. “You’ll make me blush,” he laughed. 

While Roger was busy with last-minute preparations, Heinz flitted around the banquet hall to look for anything he could use to disrupt the celebration. He noticed that a lot of women were carrying purses around. There was sure to be something in those! 

Then he spotted an open purse on a chair, its owner obliviously chatting with a group of people nearby. It was ripe for the picking. Heinz zipped between the various cliques, his eyes set on his target. 

But a shrill screech caused Heinz to lose focus, and he mentally kicked himself for not paying attention. He must’ve flown straight through Mother in his haste. 

She shivered wildly, her teeth chattering as if she were trapped in a blizzard. It didn’t take long for the other women to notice. They led her to a table directly in front of the stage, helping her sit down and checking to make sure she was comfortable. 

Someone even lent her a shawl to wrap around her shoulders. 

“Are you alright, Mrs. Doofenshmirtz?” someone asked. 

“They’re following us,” Mother said quietly. “I don’t-no, impossible. Yes, yes I’ll be alright. This is Roger’s night. Don’t worry about an old woman like me. Thank you. It’s a lovely shawl.” 

Her helpers backed off, but still looked uncertain. 

Before anyone could question her further, a light clinking sound came from the stage. Everyone took their seats immediately, and Heinz used the opportunity to steal a zipped flowery bag from the open purse. 

Mr. Aquino tapped a glass with a small spoon several times before setting it on the podium in front of him. Roger sat on a chair nearby, next to two older men in tuxedos. He was perfectly poised on the chair, his back not touching the cushion and his hands folded neatly in his lap. 

Out of curiosity, Heinz tried to mimic his position, but gave up within a few seconds. It just seemed more natural to cross his legs. 

“May I have your attention please?” Mr. Aquino called. The entire hall fell silent, gazing at the stage expectantly. “Hello. My name is Manuel Aquino, and some of you may know me as your local district representative.” 

He paused to allow the audience to applaud before continuing. 

“We’re here to honor one incredibly accomplished individual tonight. One whose stunning intellect, brilliant wit, and undeniable charm has captured the hearts of many in Danville University,” he said, winking towards a table full of female graduates. “Perhaps you don’t even know how much you’re charmed by him.” 

Instead of listening to the rest of the speech, Heinz levitated the bag’s contents onto the steel beam next to him. It was mostly makeup with names he couldn’t pronounce, but it was more interesting than the ceremony below. 

Why did they need to take so long to say thank you? Just say it and move on! Heinz played with the makeup as another guy in a tuxedo droned on, smearing red streaks all over the steel beams. 

As he worked on a large, goofy mustache to his Roger drawing, the audience clapped and whistled loudly as Roger finally took center stage. Curious, Heinz set the brush down. Like everyone else, he also wanted to know what Roger had to say for himself. 

“Tonight will be a night to remember,” Roger announced. “Though we’ve graduated, our learning will never stop. Danville U has instituted a winning spirit and a can-do attitude onto each of us, so we must pass that onto the next generation to the best of our ability. When one moves into the next stage of life, one must ask themselves ‘What are we going to do?’ Some of you may have figured out the answer. Some of you are still searching. Both options are equally valid. But I suppose you’re also wondering what I want to accomplish.” 

The audience nodded earnestly, hanging onto his every word. 

“And I would like to thank Mr. Aquino here for mentoring me,” Roger said, with a polite nod towards the man. You see, he was rather charmed by the story of a fellow immigrant to this golden land of opportunity. We were both raised in poverty by hard-working parents, you see. Then as young adults, we found Danville, a city with such a colorful and vibrant culture. My dream is to give back to this lovely community, to allow everyone to flourish, to improve all aspects of education for our children, and their children as well. Mr. Aquino has generously offered me a staff position in his political office, which I’ve accepted. This will serve as my stepping stone so I may learn the issues each of you face, and I hope to be trustworthy in your eyes when you next see my name in the local newspaper.” 

Heinz was starting to understand why Roger wanted to start his career in America. The Gimmelshtump elders would never have allowed a kid to upstage them when it came to decision-making. 

Roger poured a glass of wine, holding it high in the air. “Before the appetizers are brought out, I would like to propose a toast in honor of Mr. Aquino. Let us drink to his good health and his successful career!” 

“For Mr. Aquino!” the audience cheered.

“A toast in honor of my mother, Olga Doofenshmirtz,” Roger continued. “Without her loving support and careful guidance, I would not be the man I am today.” 

Mother smiled and nodded. Several women whispered their congratulations to her. 

“And lastly, an acknowledgment to a person in this room that I would like to make myself. Everyone, please set your cups down.” 

What did that mean? Heinz circled above the stage, wondering what Roger was talking about. Why couldn’t he just say it on the stage like everything else? 

His fists clenched. And Roger didn’t even mention him! Heinz played with him, he kept watch for monsters, he even comforted Roger! And after all these years, Roger never mentioned him to anyone! If he could thank Mother, he could thank Heinz too! 

Heinz focused intently on what looked like a fluffy pom-pom, making sure that every centimeter of it was coated in a fine powder from a nearby case. Then he held up his hand, waiting for the right moment to send it hurtling down towards Roger. 

“Charlene, I was privileged to have met you three years ago in a debate match. You were kind yet bold, not afraid to challenge anyone in a verbal spar. Now I only have one thing to ask,” Roger said. He knelt down, opening a small box which contained a golden ring. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Charlene smiled graciously, allowing Roger to slide the ring on her finger.  “Yes, yes I would,” she replied as she leaned in for a kiss. Roger’s fingers cupped her short, black hair as he kissed her back. 

Heinz stuck his tongue out at the gross kissing, forgetting that he was still levitating the pom-pom. 

Somebody shrieked below him, and Heinz quickly ducked behind a thick pole. before remembering that nobody could see him. 

Mr. Aquino was trying to rub the powder out of his hair, but it just smeared all over his hands. Heinz laughed at the ridiculous sight. 

Some people stared at Mr. Aquino, and others glanced nervously at the ceiling as if expecting more makeup powder to rain down upon them. Mother’s finger shook as she pointed at the politician. “You must sprinkle poppy seeds on your pillow tonight to ward off the evil spirits!” she shouted. 

He blinked at her. “Of course, ma’am. If the rest of you will excuse me, I’ll clean up in the restroom. Be back momentarily!” 

“Ah, good ol’ Aquino,” Roger chuckled. “Nothing ever keeps that man down.” 

Charlene took her seat next to Roger, smoothing out her dress. “It’s still a little strange though. Maybe a prankster hung powder from the rafters before we got here.” 

Heinz liked her already. Sure, she didn’t know him by name, but her guess was close enough. 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Bon appetit, everybody!” Roger called as the workers began passing out baskets of bread and cheese. 

The room filled with the sound of chatter and dinnerware clattering against the tables, and the incident was quickly forgotten. 

*holds out trash bin for all of you gagging at the Mrs. Doofenshmirtz’s ‘loving support and careful guidance’ bit*

[laughingpinecone]

Yuletide letter 2018

AO3: laughingpineapple

Hello dear author, I’m glad we share one of these wonderful little fandoms and I hope you’ll have fun writing for it. The sections aren’t all of equal length for one reason or another but I love them all so much, from the classics I’ve been requesting since I started doing Yuletide (can’t have enough of those!) to this year’s shiny new findings. I tried to leave both specific and non-specific prompts for each canon and, again, I wanna see the farfetched postcanon scenario just as much as the vague one-word prompt and my general likes. Pick whatever works for you, or mix and match!

Likes: worldbuilding, slice of life (doubly so if the event the fic focuses on is made up but canon-specific), missing moments, 5+1 and similar formats, bonding and emotional support/intimacy, physical intimacy, lingering touches, loyalty, casefic, surrealism, established relationships, future fic, hurt/comfort or just comfort from the ample canon hurt, throwing characters into non-canon environments, banter, functional relationships between dysfunctional individuals, unexplained mysteries, bittersweet moods, journal/epistolary fic, dreams and memories and identities, canon-adjacent tropey plots , outsider POV, UST, exploration of secondary bits of canon, leaning on the uniqueness of the canon setting/mood, found families, characters reuniting after a long and/or harrowing time, friends-to-lovers, road trips, cuddling, wintry moods, flannel, ridiculous concepts played straight, creating a dynamic between characters who never spoke in canon, sensory details, sickfic

Cool with: what-ifs, AUs, any tense, any pov, any rating, plotty, not plotty, gen, shippy, IF, nerdy canon references, unrequested characters popping up

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, unrequested ships, canon retellings, consent issues

Ghost Trick: Cabanela, Jowd

General: platonic or romantic, loyalty kink here we go, in any shape and form. Night time and secrets. Out of town. Knitwear. Twenty years from now. Size difference. UST. Cabanela’s scarf being in the way sometimes. Cabanela’s legs being in the way sometimes. I have Final Fantasy on my mind a lot recently so any FFIV, VI, VII, T, IX, X, XII or XIII reimagining would be fantastic (Monk Jowd, dancer/red mage Cabanela...?), or indeed The Last Remnant, but also regular fantasy, space opera, sci-fantasy… anything fancy!

Canon-specific dislikes: Sissel not being Jowd’s cat in the new timeline (which ofc doesn’t shut out Yomiel’s unbreakable bond with his cat – as the saying goes, Sissel has four paws...), infidelity

Cabanela&Jowd or Cabanela/Jowd: I love Cabanela being fierce and dazzling bright and determined and loyal to the very end, dancing to his own rhythm, so sure of himself and of his ideas that he doesn’t even need to prove to anyone that he’s right. Too sure of the wrong idea, once, and everything crashed and burned. And I love Jowd being the immovable object to Cabanela’s unstoppable force, a self-depreciating asshole with a penchant for gallows humor that grows more morbid by the hour, and also incredibly smart (both jerks figured out Sissel’s powers better than Sissel did) and athletic and with an unsuspected talent for stealth.

I ship them dearly, as part of a triad (or Jowd-centered V...? Has it been explored?) with Alma with all the fun possibilities of the third party sneaking into the marriage and negotiating that relationship. Or adjusting to a life together with Kamila in a no-reset scenario or a what-if in which Alma was never around (please no breakups or noncanon deaths if you don't want her around).  But I also want to read all the best friends fic with the corniest, most intense found family dynamics you can muster!

Alternate scenario where it’s Cabanela who keeps his memories, not Jowd: how does that change their dynamic in the new timeline? Or what if Cabanela stays dead in ch15 like he wished he could, joins the rest of the gang as a ghost and goes back 10 years with the others and so both of them keep their memories? (with my apologies to Yomiel, whose ch16-17 redemption has just been made a lot harder by the added stowaway)

Jowd knowing how much Cabs did for him and remembering him broken and bloodied is A Lot. especially if he’s a lil into it (and mr spotless is. not really on the same page.)

Casefic! With ghosts! There could be a new ghost created by Temsik’s shards or even by some unfortunate soul dying on top of the buried meteorite. Or with their own ghost, teaming up with Sissel! There’s so much potential for tense, death-defying situations! (with make-outs afterwards, if that’s your thing)

Deathfic, until it’s reverted. Jowd dying in Cabanela’s arms or the other way round, but one of them knows about Sissel and the other does not…

Jowd’s loyalty to Cabanela being tested for once, as a change of pace.

More detailed prompts for a few FF fusion AUs: FFX, Summoner Jowd and reluctant Guardian Cabanela. Any moment of their pilgrimage could be fun (and/or tragic and/or intense), or if you like a more detailed prompt, would Yunalesca’s truths be the tipping point of Jowd’s conviction? Would Cabanela manage to drag himself and his Summoner to safety before she killed them? What would life look for them afterwards as survivors bearing forbidden truths, would they stay away from Yevon? FFTA or XII, viera Cabanela and nu mou or bangaa Jowd. I’m sure there’s a poignant plot about magic-endowing extraterrestrial rocks and political backstabbing somewhere at the intersection of Ivalice and GT. If you can see it, I’m here to read it. But I’ll be honest here, the real point here is bunny Cabs. Please consider bunny Cabs. (viera, nu mou, bangaa visual refs for non-FFTA players who might wanna do a regular fantasy AU instead?) FFVI, Cabanela faked defecting to the Empire and is a magitek-infused officer while Jowd has Blitz and... Sketch somehow? And they meet again in the World of Ruin and things are very emotional?

The Last Remnant: Any (Pagus, Maddox, Sibal, David)

General: characterization based on battle quotes, red bubble dialogues, and even their unique stat (‘authority’ is a natural fit for David but ‘romance’ tells me something new about Sibal!) Character interaction. Bit of worldbuilding. What’s another festival they celebrate? Do they erect something else instead of the Valeria Heart? Any fun discoveries down in Siebenbur? Where the hell IS Veyriel, anyway, do they go look for it and if so what do they find out? End of an age. Old bonds.

Canon-specific dislikes: strong narrative emphasis on game mechanics. Stuff like mentioning that a character leads a unit is fine, but for example listing the materials they need for their weapon upgrade would take me out of the story.

The Qsiti bunch: just give me the deets on Qsiti worlduilding and I’ll be a happy camper. I ship these three very much but I’m also invested in their friendship and in each of them as a singular character. The fact that Pagus is a goddamn catch is one of my favorite things, and he can be a smart cookie with any of the other smart cookies in the party, or be a history buff with Glenys, or tutor Yuniver. Proud, paranoid chatterbox Maddox entrenched in his cover-up stories, finding it hard to stop being a spy and relax, maybe spending time with someone very simple, like Sheryl, or a very different kind of fellow veteran like Roberto. Self-assured Sibal who probably knows a lot about the mysteries of the underground world and is also the most romantic soul out of the entire cast, talking volcanoes with Paris or discussing the Rainbow Bond with Haruko? If you also like all three of them, either as old friends or as a ship, who of them comes up with what excuse to reconnect again now that Remnants are no more, or do they drop all pretenses and admit they just want to make up for lost time? And what do Qsiti cuddles look like?

David: Post-canon, adjusting to a life without remnants - how did it feel to be bound to one or two of them anyway, and what’s it like without, and suddenly knowing you’ll be the first Nassau in who knows how long who’ll reach old age? - and without Rush. Finding support and friendship even outside his trusted Generals. I’d be interested in seeing him get closer to any unique leader you might like, I can easily see half the characters absolutely adoring him sooner or later. From the Duke of Ghor to Roberto, to sweet Zolean who knows what it’s like to lose someone dear and hope he comes back, or Rhagoh & Remnant Kate, or Paris or Jager or, eventually, even Allan… David/Rush prompts: focus on Rush’s supernatural nature, how he was a strange boy with a good heart (Things Unchangeable meant so much to me!) who ignored human social conventions because he was not in fact human. Reunion fic more than a decade into the future, showing how David has changed and with emphasis on Rush’s Remnant nature.

David & Qsiti: basically a mix of the other prompts. David is close to all his Generals but what’s his dynamic with Pagus specifically? Is he a mentor, a friend, did Pagus stop David once when he was about to do something very stupid? And what can David learn about his dear General from people who have known him since long before David was born?

Myst: Yeesha, Jeff Zandi

General: The oddest of friendships. Road trip. Desert sunrise. Desert bird shenanigans, be it with actual roadrunners speeding by or cartoon ones. Descent. An oddly shaped rock. Strangers. Shooting stars. Any line from Words.

Canon-specific dislikes: please no Yeesha bashing?

Yeesha & Jeff: He’s definitely Team Yeesha and she could definitely do with a friend, the year is 2018 and I still want fic about this unlikely duo.

How much can he really say he gets her? When did they meet? Was it when a younger Jeff was exploring D’ni with his father Elias, did that create a rift between the two?

What do they do when they hang out? Has he played the Myst games – heck, has she? Does he play Magic the Gathering like his RL counterpart?

Do they set out on a road trip because she needs to chill for a hot minute and experience for herself that whole ‘you shall seek the journey’ thing? Late night driving and liminal places could be cool. Or does she link him somewhere cool with no travel time needed?

Do they agree to meet by his camp fire once a month or something like that, and one time Yeesha doesn’t show up? What happened?

Does he get to hang out with bahro thanks to her, in the depths of the Cavern where the DRC will never be able to reach, and what’s that encounter like for him (and for her, and for the bahro)?

Maybe some relaxing time can take place after End of Ages. He’d notice that something has changed, she’s somewhat less of a depressed wreck that she used to be...

Speaking of End of Ages, was Jeff chosen by the Tablet? If so, how did he fail his quest? I appreciate Esher a lot so if you go for an EoA plot feel free to use him too.

Anything based on Uru history is great!

The Secret History of Twin Peaks: Tammy Preston

General: Character dossiers that involve Tammy more directly. TSHOTP themes being used front and center. Owls, figurative and otherwise. Tammy Fashion™. Tammy Freeform Infodump™. The risks of staring into the void for too long. Gentle illusions. The moon. Static buzzing. Any title from the s3 ethereal whooshing compilation used as a prompt, actually. AUs and fusion AUs are great for this fandom! I have Final Fantasy on my mind a lot recently so any FFVI, VII, T, IX, X, XII or XIII reimagining would be fantastic (what would Tammy even be... scholar, fencer, mystic knight...?), or indeed The Last Remnant, but also regular fantasy, space opera, sci-fantasy... anything fancy!

Canon-specific dislikes: Gordon being a harmless, fun dad or conversely having the worst intentions. Clear explanations for canonical ambiguities.

(my Twin Peaks canon-specific likes and dislikes in the next section may also apply)

Tammy: what I find fascinating about Tammy’s positioning in the narrative of the books (and of the show, but not as markedly) is that there is this whole narrative of trauma, and the circularity of trauma, even within Blue Rose and the organizations that came before it, and she stands at the end of it and learns about it all without being directly involved. She can learn from it in a sheltered position. Maybe when her turn will come, she’ll know a little better. Her name’s anagram is Praemonstrata, “Having been guided”. She’s the new Archivist, in a way. She’s the future of Blue Rose, last woman standing as soon as Albert and Gordon retire and/or vanish (and after the show’s finale, I can’t see either of them lasting long). What does it all mean, in the context of the book’s overarching theme of secrets VS mysteries and the cost of knowledge (and the show’s connections between trauma and the fragmentation of the self, and TFD’s doubling down on the general concept of shoveling oneself out of the shit, and her moving final considerations)?

What could be a test for her, something that would involve her personally and make her risk losing her way? What makes her tick - would she cross to other worlds, how, and why?

I don’t know much about aliens, but I really enjoyed how the book wove it all into Twin Peaks lore. If you want to do the same with some other bit of UFO trivia and have Tammy draw her connections, I’m interested!

The books show that she’s not only Albert’s spiritual successor as the only other rationally-inclined soul in there, she also knows Albert personally to some extent, for example that he’s a jazz lover. Have they ever gone drinking in cool (LGBT…?) clubs with fancy live music? Are they jazz buddies or what kind of music is she into (and what does he have to say about her tastes)?

What other characters or pieces of TP history would she look into? What about that Diane dossier, for example? What about Lucy? (If you have her look into Diane, please be empathetic toward her and her tulpa)

Twin Peaks: Harry Truman, Lucy Moran, Chet Desmond, Garland Briggs

This one is an OR request – feel free to only write about some of these people and completely ignore the others. There were just too many good characters in the tagset and I couldn’t choose so, you know, to hell with matchability. The prompts are for the characters on their own or with some nominated canon mates but if you have an idea for Ruby&Lucy, Garland&Albert, Harry&Naido or any other odd combo, go for it!

General: the mystery of the woods, obviously. How do they relate to the woods, what do they gain and what do they lose in the woods. Case fic but they don’t find out jack shit, someone disappears, David Bowie was there, it’s complicated. Fragmented, shifted, mirrored identities. New Lodge spaces. Still any title from the s3 ethereal whooshing compilation used as a prompt. When in doubt, add Margaret. AUs and fusion AUs are great for this fandom! I have Final Fantasy on my mind a lot recently so any FFVI, VII, T, IX, X, XII or XIII reimagining would be fantastic (paladin Harry, dancer Lucy, fighter Chet, sage Garland...?), or indeed The Last Remnant, but also regular fantasy, space opera, sci-fantasy... anything fancy!

Canon-specific Dislikes: any singular Dreamer being the ‘source’ of canon, BOB (let alone Judy) being forever defeated in the finale, Judy being an active malevolent presence in the characters’ lives, ‘Odessaverse’ being the reality layer, the Fireman's House by the Sea being the White Lodge, Naido being nothing more than Diane but since she was nominated as her own character I'm hopeful here

(my Secret History of Twin Peaks canon-specific likes and dislikes in the previous section may also apply)

Harry: Bookhouse Boy Harry both in the sense of avid reader Harry promoting literacy and vague bastion against the evil in the woods Harry. Harry getting a sword out of a pond in the woods like he was meant to but , like, in a way that’s less random kitsch and more meaningful magical realism. Harry and Frank as actual brothers but also Frank as a projection of Harry’s insecurities. Harry, Ed and Hawk as friends. Harry finding some sense of belonging somewhere, somehow.

Lucy: Kimmy Robertson said she would like to be the color blue in Lynch’s palette, if the prompt works for you. Lucy taking her time to understand and organize the world around her. Lucy with Andy (the one functional couple in all of canon, bless), with Wally, with Maggie Brown and the rest of the new sheriff’s station cast. Lucy with people who don’t usually appreciate her (both sheriffs and Albert come to mind) but have to come to terms with the fact that she’s amazing. I also like that Hawk is a first-class gossip, apparently, and so is Lucy, so if THAT prompts works for you… last but not least, she seems to have some sort of connection with the symbolic weave of reality (picking chairs when a very important chair is introduced, wondering about bunnies and Jack Rabbit palace will be relevant, Robertson said that Lynch said that Lucy perceives a lot and needs time to sort it all out) and I’d love to see it explored one way or another. If you wanna go wild with meta Invitation to Love shenanigans, Lucy could be a good POV character.

Chet: What’s his deal? Empirically, new canon draws a hell of a lot of connections between personal troubles and being jettisoned out of reality. So why did he? A friend recalls that he was named after Chet Baker and Norma Desmond, so that could be a starting point. I like to think that he manages to pull himself together at some point and make it back – how? Does he find any familiar faces beyond the curtains, like Phil? Finally, like all Blue Rose and Sheriff’s station characters, when all other prompts fail: office shenanigans. Please. Now that they’ve all been blatantly retconned as a merry gang who coexisted at some point, please give me Chet bouncing off literally any other named character in there.

Garland: He’s a good bean, almost naive compared to Doug Milford & co in TSHOTP, and I wish him the best wherever he is... the metaphysical adventures of Garland’s floating head could be a fic (maybe Bill Hastings and Ruth Davenport could tag along). Or back when he was alive, weird occurrences at Listening Post Alpha up on Blue Pine mountain. He wasn’t born in town, so what’s HIS relationship with the woods? Or an encounter with some of the federal cast, like Gordon and Phil or a very young Albert. I’m also intrigued by his s3 narrative but I have a very negative view of The Plan(tm) so I don’t really know what to make of it. If you also think that the Fireman’s hints only ended in tragedy and that Blue Rose’s search for Judy was a monumental act of hubris, and you have a good spin for Garland’s role in all of this, I’m listening! All I got is something like "he gave his last fuck... now he's free....." (not that Garland is legally allowed to say fuck, I mean)

Albert/Harry: my main headcanon is that they got together in the aftermath of Coop’s disappearance, holding onto each other in his absence not unlike James and Donna did with Laura. Then... did they last? Or was it a terrible moment to get together (...not unlike James and Donna) and they had to go their separate ways for a while before finding each other again? Does this sad time last up until the end of s3, when Albert can finally quit the castle of lies that was his job and stay with Harry? I am also, however, open to other timelines for these two. Emotional reunions are great and so is domestic fic with a dash of surrealism. What would Harry do for Albert? For example, when would he take his side in a heated dispute with someone else? What would Albert share about his past? What could they do in town? Or do they take a well-deserved vacation somewhere else? Do they team up for a small investigation? Old men taking care of each other is very much welcome, especially after Harry gets through the worst of his treatments.

Dale/Harry: Harry seeing his Coop again... somewhere, somehow. Maybe he perceives him in the woods, maybe Coop isn't all human now. Monster cuddles very welcome. Could be canon divergence but could very well be post-s3. Harry getting closure for waiting all that time in front of Glastonbury and never giving up on Coop... they can live in the woods together...

Harry&Lucy: what could make them spend some time together outside of work (is it donuts)? Does he ask for relationship advice since she and Andy are literally the only people in town who could make it work? Does she feel loyal to him and Frank or is it just a job to her? Does she go visit him after s3 and does he tell her that she was very brave? What about Wally - Harry is the boy’s godfather after all, I don’t usually read kidfic but I can make all sorts of exceptions for my beloved Wally (maybe when he’s more of a teen than a kid). Are they all fans of Marlon Brando?

Chet/Sam: reunion fic! Chet’s been AWOL for years, Sam has fallen through the cracks, how do they find each other again and why do they choose to remain off the grid? I would also like to read about them in the present day-ish, handwaving the return and reunion. Maybe they made a new life for themselves. If Sutherland were to play Sam again, Sam would be... notably more buff. What caused that change, was it traveling with Chet, what kind of person is he now? Could they be in Buenos Aires, investigating on their own whatever that shrinking box was?

Chet&Dale: In which ways are they both real boys and in which ways are they aspects of each other? How do they work together?

Chet/Albert: whatever passes for an uncomplicated office romance around those parts, where they both know very well that they’re not the other’s One True Love, but they have a good understanding - except when Albert’s pacifism clashes with Chet‘s readiness to throw down 24/7. But then again Albert is also ready to throw down 24/7, only with words instead of fists, so there’s fertile ground for conflict and unexpected agreements. Also they’re hot.

Garland&Harry: they’re both good dogs living in a cold and cruel world, with their own partial experiences of other worlds beyond this tangible reality, and I think they should be at least a little friends. Maybe Harry found himself at Garland’s observatory one day without even knowing how he’d gotten there, maybe they chatted at the RR. Then there’s Mfrost spitballing some connection which, given how Garland ‘died’ literally on the day after s2, can only be read as Harry passing his info to Garland when Garland was already beyond this world. I’d read that in a heartbeat.

[distortmymind]

Distort My Mind - Part 6

.:Watchpoint Gilbraltar:.

At the base is sore and or hurt.

Most of the team stood in bed while Lucio prepared breakfast, Mei and Ana decided to join in.

Jamison awakes to a spray of water in his face.

“Oi!” He shouts. Mako had sprayed him with a water bottle to wake him. “Get up…” He mumbles as he leaves the room to the dining area.

Jamison was much too tired and sore so he plopped back down and fell back asleep.

Mako got his breakfast and sat by himself. He glanced up and could see into Zarya’s room. Mei had brought her breakfast. He couldn’t see her face but he felt relieved that she was alright. She had taken quite the beating, such a young woman. He wondered why wasn’t she careful. He didn’t realize he had zoned out until Ana snapped him out of it.

“Where’s your friend?” She asked him.

“He’s probably still asleep.” Mako grumbled as Ana shook her head. “He’s going to miss breakfast.” She stated as she loaded another plate to take it to Jamison.

Mako sighed and proceeded to eat. Once Ana entered the room, she placed the plate on the night stand and pulled the covers off of Junkrat. “Jamison…” She said nudging him. He yawned and looked up at her.

“Oi, how’d you get in ‘er?” He asked with a bit of confusion. “That’s not important, now you come and eat. You don’t want it to get cold.” She said pulling him out of bed, handing him the plate, Jamison was almost completely naked, Ana helped him dressing up, his body giving up from the moment he had to step out of bed. Once they were done, she walked him to a table. He was seated with Mei who he couldn’t stop staring. Mei was having a conversation with Lúcio, talking about how the weather at ecopoint was even more troublesome than the last time she was there. Mei was wearing a beautiful white cardigan and a thick scarf around her neck, Lúcio too was wearing a scarf, a lime green scarf with frogs.

She seemed to pretend Jamison wasn’t there.

Junkrat cleared his throat.

“’Ello” he said. She looked up and gave a dry and soft hello back, staring down at her plate.

“So uh, what ya got there?” He asked. She glanced at him.

“Same as you…” She said taking a bite. Lucio soon joined in with a bright smile. “Hey Hey, how’s breakfast?” He asked. “Wonderful. Thank you!” Mei replied with a cheerful smile. Junkrat took a huge bite and chewed quite loudly. Mei scrunched up her nose in disgust. “This is good mate!” He said swallowing. Mei stood up and went to her room after putting away her plate. Lucio stared at him in a matter of fact way at him.

“What?” Junkrat said raising an eyebrow. “I think I know what’s going on here…” Lucio said with a sly smile.

“I was just trying to talk to her.” The junker said crossing his arms. “She’s the only one who doesn’t trust me.” He said sighing. “Well, she just needs to warm up… She’s a tough cookie” Lucio said with a chuckle. “Yeah. I guess.” The junker said laying his head in his hands.

“But take a look at how many times I’ve tried this, it isn’t fair ya know?” Jamison pitched his voice, yelling at nothing. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me, and it’s nothing I care about but why would she be so repelled by me?”, Jamison turned around and saw everyone at their tables staring at him, but not Mako, no, Mako knew what he was referring to, he knew more than anyone what he meant.

“She has absolutely no reason to hate me, not even when I try so hard to make it count, I’m not wanting to be anything, I just want her to not hate me!!” Jamison said, he felt a knot growing withing his soul, his past becoming one with the present… So he remembered…

(…A vivid orange light hit his eyes in the most numbing way, his body vibrated as his young ten year old body fell, his knees hitting the warm cement floor in a matter of seconds, he felt tears running and his eyes turned into a lighter brown, the one his eyes beheld as his short life resumed into a single moment, the present. He felt thin, soft arms around him, he collided against a pair of breasts, his mother’s. His guardian. She carried him away from the outbreak as fast as she could, with her lasts seconds of life.

Her mother was a prostitute.

Poverty was a demon they couldn’t run from, it haunted them for years and years, along the family roots… from the very beginning…

“Jamison, go get me a few would ya?” he heard his mother say in a ghostly voice, he remembered her voice, never her name, never her face. “Be useful for your momma, or ill have to sell ya for the money I need.”

“Yes mum.”

He heard himself say. His saliva became sour and he realized why was he recalling these memories.

He stood up and realized not even the monster her mum once was really hated him. She saved him.

That was the last time he had someone until Mako came along.

But at this point it didn’t matter did it?…)

Everyone at the room saw Jamison’s face wet with tears, he didn’t move, he didn’t squeal, he just stared blankly at nothing, crying, weeping. Lucio stayed with the junker for a few hours, he didn’t wasn’t to ask him straight on what was going on but he wasn’t going to leave him. The sun had set and everyone had retreated to their rooms. Lucio yawned and scratched his neck. “I’m warn out. I’ll see ya tomorrow James” Lucio said taping his shoulder and heading to his room. “Take care buddy”

“Night mate" The junker called. James was the only one left In the dinning hall. He sighed and laid his head on the cool table. 'There’s so much snow’ he thought.

Mei opened her door and walked down the hall. She could hear Zarya vomiting as she passed her room. 'Poor Zarya, she was so beaten up. It really took a toll on her.’ She thought.

She yawned once more as she walked into the dining hall. She looked up at the clock. 'Its 2:30 in the morning’ she thought as she poured herself a glass of water. She watched the snow storm happening outside. She heard movement and spun around. But nothing.

She thought it might have been the wind outside. Mei slowly walked towards the pitcher again, her throat was dry and warm. But a sound was heard form outside, she heard it, she was sure she did.

Mei took a few steps towards the window, cleaning it from inside, making sure she didn’t came across someone outside, she was afraid she could find someone outside with this weather at this hour. She was afraid there was something, anything outside that could mean danger to her, to all of them. And this fear increased, more and more each step she made, each movement she did to cleaned that window, each time she heard the sound that was coming from outside, when before even seeing it she knew there was something out there. She took a step back.

´There’s someone out there!´ She thought, placing one hand on her chest and the other on her mouth. But then she thought twice, and then three times, until she came across a thought.

´What if they need help?’.

Once the thought went through her mind she quickly dressed up accordingly to what she was planning to do. She decided to go out there and help them, but before going out she made sure to bring a pocket knife with her, just in case.

The doors were colder than life. Her gloved finger pressed the button at her right and the doors raised. A cold merciless wind hit her entire body, a big windy storm unleashed the sound of raging dragons upon the facility, but she made sure no one heard. To keep everyone safe, she stepped outside as quickly as possible, closing the doors.

‘The white death…’ she thought. Her panicking thoughts coming back from the deepest graves of her mind, the deepest catacombs, the sewers of her mind. ‘I must help now that I can’.

Very carefully, she watched foot prints on the snow, they were very dim, almost gone by the wind, but still they guided somewhere. Slowly she stepped careful not to trip, moving against the cold. Then in the distance she heard it once again, a sound, no, not a sound, a voice.

“…You… you told me… you told me I’ll live momma…”

Her heart skipped a bit, she wasn’t sure, but that voice… That vice was familiar.

“…Momma come take me!!…”

The voice moaned, and this time Mei was sure of what she had heard. It was Junkrat’s voice.

“Junkrat!!” Mei screamed, she started following the voice now instead of the foot print pattern. “Junkrat what are you doing?” she squealed. She moved forward with anxiety, forcing her legs and arms in front of her, helpless she fell onto the snow, the wind made her trip back and roll down about ten steps. “Junkrat!” She screamed. She recovered and kept walking towards the moaning voice.

But then she stopped, she didn’t stop because she was tired, nor she had given up on him. She stopped because she saw him. She saw him and heard him. He was hot red. He wasn’t wearing clothes more than underwear, he was on the floor sobbing and trembling, but most importantly at the edge of a frozen cliff. She then understood.

She understood and couldn’t hold herself back. Her body vibrated with anticipation, she felt her guts rumble and contort. Her legs succumbed to her thoughts. But inside she wanst going to let that happen. She was going to help, she wanted to help, she had to.

She crawled up to him on the snow and took off her big warm jacket, and placed it over him, then she hugged him from behind, making sure he received warmth, but then she realized, then, very late then she realized where they were. She stood up, held her guts and took a look at the young man’s face. He was blue and red all over, pale and burned from the cold. He wasn’t moving no more, he wasn’t crying no more, he was silent as a rock.

Mei panicked, she picked him up with both arms and carried him inside the facility. And she swore to herself she wasn’t going to, the moment she knew what was going on, the moment she saw him by himself on the snow alone and depressed, but she did, she recalled, and she cried, she cried out a single loud yelp and she started to move once again, she remembered.

His body was ice itself, but he was soft, he was alive.

Once inside Mei took off most of her clothes, the ones she used to go outside with and wore a her pajamas. She quickly took Junkrat to the showers. There she carried him to one of the showers and turned on the hot water, she carefully placed him on the floor and regulated the water, then she sat on the shower floor with him, she took his motionless body and hugged him once again from behind, making sure he received warmth from every angle.

She couldn’t cope. She couldn’t confront the thought of someone dying. Not since what happened barely a few years ago. She trembled at the feeling of his cold back against her chest, her nipples hardening as a natural reaction to the temperature change. She thought how embarrassing this was and held the Aussie’s head and placed it on her legs.

All she could do at that point was to wait for his body to take a somewhat neutral temperature. But she found herself staring at the man’s face.

He had a very soft skin, at least it seemed like that to her, he had a pointy chin with only a few very blond hairs in them, almost not noticeable. His wet hair rested on his face as his mouth also rested in place, opened just a bit, his teethe barely showing. She could hear him breathe, she sighed in hope. But as much as she wanted she couldn’t stop looking at him, his face has a lot cleaner, his nose was so incredibly detailed. All his features seemed like they were made by a sculptor.

Mei was stubborn at times, but her passion in nature reflected how much she loved details. She felt attracted to his face.

She realized she was just inches from Junkrat’s face. She stopped herself quickly and closed her eyes. Mei shook the moment off her head and reached the junker’s neck. She pressed two fingers against it. Alive, he was alive, his heart beating, he was breathing, his blood pumping. She was certainly relieved.

She turned the water off and took Jamison to her room, she sat him on her bed and looked for clothes and a towel. Once ready she came across something she wasn’t ready about, mostly something she wasn’t sure of how to do. She had to undress him so she could dry him. Mei sat on the floor wondering how and what to do at the moment. Mei started snapping her fingers on Junkrat’s ear. Nothing.

She clapped a few times next to his ear, but nothing again.

Mei stood still and closed her eyes. She looked to her left, as if she didn’t want to see what she was doing, even though both of her eyes were tight shut. She first touched the young man’s legs, and softly she drew a path with her fingers up to where his underwear was. ‘I got this’ she thought. But she wasn’t sure.

Mei slowly but firmly grabbed onto the junker’s underwear and started pulling it down. She could hear her heart beating, but she kept going until she made sure they were off, the fabric wet and cold, she tossed them away and again, only with her hand she reached for a towel but her hand touched for a bit Junkrat’s leg, soft and warm now. She placed the towel over him, she opened her eyes. There he was, resting and breathing deeply, unlike before.

As she took a sweater from her bed she realized he was moving, Junkrat was waking up.

“Hng…” A moan came out of his mouth.

‘Oh no, oh no why.’ Mei thought, ‘This is awkward!’

She shook the thought and stood in front of him. She thought if she was going to get into this situation she better have most of it under control.

The blonde found himself soaking wet and staring at a white ceiling, by his side a rather small, chubby girl stood staring down at him with a blank expression.

“Mei-?”

“Go put on some clothes, I’ll wait for you at the kitchen.”

He stared at his body and noticed he wasn’t wearing any clothes, he was speechless, he stared at Mei and as he was about to say a word Mei left the room and onto the kitchen. He wondered what had happened… But it didn’t take long, he recalled, and then he got a headache.

It was far worse than a headache.

He crossed the towel over his waist, a pink towel. He left the room jumping on his foot, and into his own room, there he carefully took clothes from the bags and put them on, slowly. His body a decaying mess. Once out he cleared his throat and walked onto the lunch room. There she was, now using a gray cardigan over a white sweater. She had changed her clothes for dry ones, and on the table she prepared two hot coffees.

He was stunned, Mei being nice to him.

He carefully took a seat in front of her and stared down. He knew she knew what he was trying to do.

“I… I don’t really want to make you feel bad in any way mate but, ya didn’t had to do that at all.” Jamison said, giving a pale almost blurry smile.

“I did, and I did it because I promised myself to do so.” Mei replied.

“How so?”

“…Not so long ago, all of my coworkers died. Friends and coworkers.” Mei said taking a sip of the hot coffee. “But I worked hard, so hard and got out of there, here, where we stood hours ago.” Jamison stared at her, Mei’s glasses steamed up from the coffee, yet he could still see a shine rolling down her cheek, a tear.

“But there’s so much more to do here, life is beautiful!, every inch of this planet is, don’t you see it?” Jamison saw her face light up but at the same time she had long streams of tears down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry I was mean to you, I’m never like this over anyone…”

Jamison felt once again that knot in his throat, growing bigger and bigger, thicker and thicker like a balloon was growing from inside out.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, don’t you get it?, There’s a reason I don’t want to live anymore. This life has nothing to give me.” Jamison replied, lowering his voice and pitch.

“No!” Mei replied. “There is much to see still… I know you need help with this, I certainly did. Trust me”

“You’re being oddly talkative now aren’t ya?” Jamison said with a laugh, but Mei wasn’t laughing, she was clearly worried.

“Look, I don’t know what to do, but if you’ll feel better then I wont do it. At least not until I’m outta here sunshine.” He said with a smile on his face, changing his posture.

‘Sunshine?’ Jamison thought. ‘Where the hell did that came from?’

Mei sighed deeply and took another sip of coffee. Mei wasn’t very talkative with anyone unless they were friends. But Jamison was, and as he always did he tried persuading her into talking more about other stuff. Jamison told her about the time he lost his arm, and the one he lost his leg, he told her about the day him and Roadie got caught stealing something and they had to run from a bunch of people, more than usual. Mei told him about her sketches and how she likes to doodle things, she told him about the things she loved, about what natural phenomenons she wonders about the most sometimes and he replied with for the first time in a long time with taking note and paying attention to what she said. He wasn’t very fond of memories, but at that moment he felt that listening to someone at this point really didn’t mean anything, but that was no excuse to not do so. About an hour passed and they found themselves chuckling and opening themselves to one another, at least for a short time. None of them had slept and it was about to be 3:30 am.

“…Oh!, it is so late, we should take a rest don’t you think?” Mei said, looking at the watch in the kitchen. Jamison grabbed both cups and walked towards the kitchen. Mei, still sitting down stared at him, ‘He’s very tall’ she thought.

“Alright mate, see ya tomorrow.” Jamison said waving his hand.

“Wait,… you told me all these things but you never told me your name…” Mei said, standing up from the table.

“Well it’s James. Jamison Fawkes. Yours?” Jamison said smiling and bowing down, he seemed happy but deep inside Mei could still see the man’s sorrow.

“My name is Mei, Mei Ling-Zhou.”

“Ahh Mei Ling shoe right?” Mei chuckled.

“No, no. Mei Ling- ZHOU” She said, emphasis on her last name.

Jamison laughed and replied. “I’m just kidding, ya know I know Chinese right?, well that doesn’t help it, ill be calling you shoe until we get out of here sunshine.”

Mei stared at him with a smile “Well, so far Mr Fawkes, you’ve called me ‘sunshine’"Jamison lowered his face and in the back of his head a million thoughts came across, but he shut them up as quickly as he could.

“Haha… I’m sorry” He replied, his voice weak.

Mei replaced his smile with a worried expression, she got near him and told him to ‘rest for the day, tomorrow it’ll be okay’ so he did.

————————————————————————— This story was created by @chellbuns and continued by @starlightpeaches