#but I need more of my green tin can man before I waste away

[acatalystrising]

I NEED more Boba content. I really do. And I genuinely hope we get more. Obviously I’ll just have to write more to fill the void (and I will) but, but…

I’m just saying…

✨THRAWN✨

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 10: Shop Till You Drop

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  Instalment 10 of mine, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @jennmurawski13​ ‘s telling of Ransom’s quest to become a normal human being. This time Ransom takes on a Supermarket…

Series Masterlist. 

“Will you stop!” You sighed, exasperatedly.

“Stop what?” Ransom frowned, tossing another box of Pop Tarts into the trolley he was pushing round the Supermarket

“Loading the trolley full of crap!”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t need it.”

“So?” he shrugged “I want it.”

You let out another groan “That’s all it ever boils down to with you isn’t it?”

“What the fuck is eating you today?” he snarked back, folding his arms across his chest. “Or is it more a case of nothing has eaten you, if you get my drift?”

“God you’re a fucking…” you growled and shook your head, “frankly the thought of you going near me at the moment makes me wanna puke. I’m tired. I have back ache and my legs are sore. We came in with a list and it should have taken us twenty minutes tops but oh no, you just keep stopping for a load of shit we don’t need and it's taking us twice as long and I just want to go home!”

The last word broke as you began to sob, the damned hormones flooding your system and Ransom’s eyes flew open in panic. He was used to your little outbursts thanks to his spawn growing inside of you, but this was the first time you’d had one in public.

“Y/N, stop.” He urged you, moving round the trolley towards you. He hesitated, before he opened his arms, clearly not sure if you were going to slap him or not but you didn’t have the energy. Instead you let him pull you to him, pressing your face into his sweater, breathing in his heady scent. His hands gently ran up your back as you fought for control, eventually pulling away as you looked up at him. His large hands cupped your face gently and he pressed his lips to yours, smirking a little “And you say I’m a brat?”

“Fuck off, Ransom.” You pulled away.

“Okay, okay!” he chuckled. “Look, why don’t you-“ he fished into his jeans pocket and handed you the keys to the Merc “-go wait in the car? I’ll finish up.”

“You’re going to finish getting the groceries?”

“Yeah.”

You blinked, before you shrugged “Fine, but don’t forget anything on that list or I swear to God you’ll be couched for a week.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” He plucked the list out of your hand, rolling his eyes “Just go for fucks sake.”

You glared at him once more before you turned on your heel and left him in the middle of the aisle, without so much as a look back. As you left through the exit, you took a deep breath, instantly feeling calmer and you felt a little guilty at your outburst as he hadn’t actually been doing much wrong. He had always been a pain in the ass when it came to shopping and you’d tried so hard to get him to stay at home, but he was insistent that he came to help. You should be grateful really, you knew that, he was only trying to ensure you didn’t do too much but all it resulted in was him getting on your last nerve and an emotional outburst like the one you’d just had.

True to form he’d been a complete fucking tool from the moment you set foot in the shop. Completely ignoring you and piling anything and everything he liked the look of into the trolley, even if you knew half of it would go to waste. But that was him and his damned family all over. More money than fucking sense.

Fuck it, he could deal with it. You were going to take a nap in the comfy passenger seat whilst he finished. And woe betide him try anything when you got home later on that evening, if he so much as made a single amorous advance towards you that night you’d rip his cock off.

****

Ransom watched Y/N stalk off away from him an exhaled, loudly, whilst also giving himself a mental pat on the back for being smart enough to tell her to go and wait in the car. Allowing her to rest whilst he complete the shopping was most certainly going to put him in her good books. And, if he played his cards right and even unloaded the groceries at the other end, he’d most certainly get a bit of bedroom fun later on.

Yup, Ransom Drysdale was a clever bastard.

That said, he did feel a tad guilty. He knew she’d been struggling the last few days with her back and seeing her burst into tears in the middle of Whole Foods had made him realise just how much energy she was using growing their baby. Maybe he had been a bit of a pain in the ass, but he hadn’t meant to be. He just liked what he liked and seeing as money wasn’t an issue why shouldn’t he get it?

He glanced down at the list, there wasn’t that much left on it. So he hastily made his way around the store allowing himself only one little detour for an unlisted item- some Lavender and Camomile bath salts for Y/N which he intended to use later when he drew her a bath to help her relax- and then made his way to the check outs.

This was the bit he hated, with a passion. Unloading and then waging a war with the damned items at the other end whilst he tried to bag them as quickly as the checkout ninja scanned them and slid them down to him. However, as luck would have it, today’s ‘ninja’ was more of a ‘nan-ja’, and to his relief the coffin-dodger took her time, having to bend so close to the screen to see the items her nose might as well have been touching it. This allowed him enough time to bag everything as Y/N did- raw meats separate, then chilled, frozen, fresh and tinned. He paused, as the final bag containing the 3 bottles of his preferred wine and a 4 pack of beer felt a little strained and he pondered double bagging. But decided against it. It was only going in the back of the car from the trolley, he’d just make sure to support it underneath.

Eventually the woman, who now he studied her must have been the same age as his fucking Great-Nana Wanetta, scanned the last item which was a bar of Y/N’s favourite chocolate he’d picked up from the stand at the end of the checkout, and turned to him smiling. She read out the total and he passed his card over, looking around as she scanned it and pressed a few buttons. Finally, the ordeal was over and he took his card and receipt before making his way back outside.

Job well done, even if he did say so himself.

He pushed the trolley over the car park, stopping only to hurl abuse at some absolute moron in a Toyota who nearly took him out when he skidded round the corner, and opened the trunk to the car. He loaded the bags, took the trolley back (well, he pushed it to the spare space besides the car because fuck walking over to the Trolley Park, that’s what they paid the simpleton in the hat and hi-viz to do) and made his way to the driver’s door. He dropped in besides his girl and she turned to face him, a smile spreading across her face as he handed her the Hershey’s.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Its ok baby.” He smiled at her as she leaned over to give him a soft kiss “Cooking my boy is zapping it outta you huh?”

“Just a tad.” She shrugged “But I shouldn’t have snapped. Thank you for finishing up.”

Ransom shrugged “No big deal.” he gave her another quick kiss before he put the car in reverse and drove towards the parking lot exit, a soft smirk playing on his handsome face

Yup, he was off Santa’s Naughty List for sure.

*****

“Go and put your feet up, I got this.” Ransom assured you as you made your way to the trunk to help unload the shopping.

"You sure?"

“Positive.” He nodded, his arms wrapping around you from behind, large hands sweeping over the front of your jacket, softly caressing your bump. “It won’t take me long to unload and put it all away. Then we can curl up and I’ll order us that pizza you’ve been talking about all day.”

“Extra olives?”

“Whatever you want.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you bit your lip. You had to admit, that did sound like a damned fine idea. And, to be honest, he was pretty good at unpacking groceries, that was one area he was actually trained in after years of you whipping him into shape.

“Okay.” You tilted your head round to look at him, giving him a quick kiss “Can you keep the mincemeat out for tomorrow’s dinner and the rest of the meat-“

“Can go in the freezer, yeah, I know.” He stepped back, reaching for a bag “I’m not a complete moron.”

“Debatable.” You muttered, ignoring the eye-roll that came your way as you stepped away from him. You headed to the front door, your pace slow as your baby was doing what felt like the tango in your belly. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently, especially when Ransom had touched your bump and spoken to you, almost like he was reacting directly to his Daddy. When you’d told Ransom so the previous night, he’d positively beamed at you with pure unadulterated love on his features, something which you were sure no one but you ever saw. You rubbed your belly, a soft smile on your face, telling your unborn son to quieten down a little, and you’d just unlocked the door when you heard a loud yell, followed by the smashing of glass and a string of expletives from your husband.

“Mother fucking, asshole, bastard crap bag!”

You spun round to see Ransom stood with a carrier bag in his hand, the bottom flapping as it had completely given way. Green and brown glass littered your drive way as a pool of red-wine and beer swam around his expensive chukkas. He screwed the bag up, tossing it into the trunk as he ran a hand through his hair, growling in annoyance.

“How much did you just drop all over the drive way?” you asked and he peeked up at you and grimaced.

“Eighty bucks worth. That was some quality merlot.”

“Well, maybe next time you’ll remember to double bag.” You shook your head, before you nodded to it “Make sure you clean that up. I’d hate to reverse over it and get another flat. Woe betide we have a performance like last time.”

“Oh, I dunno.” He quipped, a smirk spreading across his face “I happen to think the performance last time was pretty good. You certainly didn’t have any complaints once I got you back inside and sat on my face.”

You blinked, before you scoffed and shook your head “Do you know where the brush and dustpan is or should I draw you a map?”

“Fuck you.” He shot back, his eyes narrowed in a glare and you grinned, shrugging.

“Maybe later.” and with that you headed inside leaving him to grieve for his precious alcohol, which had been taken from him far too soon…

[urmyonly-vision]

Plums and Awkward Encounters

Warnings: my first imagine, awkward??, fluff, slow burn, a meet cute?

Pairing: Bucky x black!reader

Words: 2.2k

The 2pm sun beat down on you hard as you carried your grocery bags under your arms. The concrete beneath you seemed to radiate that heat back to you. Even the bustling traffic on your left didn't seem to help the temperature.

Who would be crazy enough to drive in this weather? Let alone walk. Heatwaves in New York City were the worst things to ever happen. Only the brave survived. You chuckled to yourself as you imagined people melting just like the ice cream you had left on your counter last night. 

After a few steps, you paused to reshuffle your bags and the headphones in your ears. You could feel pools of sweat gathering under your arms. For a moment, you became scared that the wetness would tear the paper and the groceries would fall out.

Adela, the shopkeeper had offered to double bag but you had mumbled an incoherent answer about ‘wasting paper; while you fanned yourself with a stack of greeting cards at the till. She had simply laughed and shouted after you ‘Come back if you need more, my sweet!’.

So you had picked up your cross to bear the walk home. After a while, the music in your ears changed from the acoustic sounds to a swelling jazz noise that startled you. In alarm and confusion, you fumbled in your back pocket to decrease the volume, forgetting that your groceries relied on your arms. Your tinned cans, frozen dumplings and a punnet of plums tumbled out of your bag, displaying a very obvious and a very damp hole at the bottom of your bag.

A car hooted near-by with young guys as your face became even hotter when one of them shouted ‘Ay sweetheart! You need some help?’ They sped off leaving you angry, wishing that you had taken Adela’s offer

In dismay, you took out your headphones and tucked them in your back pocket to hear someone else shouting just behind you. For a moment you wondered whether it was one of those boys, coming back to hassle you further, This was New York after all. 

‘Excuse me?’ ‘Miss!’ This time you turned around to see a tall man bounding down the steps of a red brick apartment building. His brown hair flowed against his chin and his white long sleeve tee and dark grey jean shorts bore specks of green paint. 

‘Hey’. He said as he finally reached you, momentarily breathless after jogging to you. 

You stood and simply said ‘Hey….. Um..?’ You waited for the man to speak.

You did your best to hide your damp armpits from his blue eyes by crossing your arm around your other bag

‘Yeah sorry, um.. I just wanted to give you a couple of your plums that… rolled my way’. He had waved his hand to his side to demonstrate the roll. More importantly, you noticed a gloved hand on his left hand.

‘Oh, thank you’ You smiled tiredly and snapped your eyes back to him, realising that you had been looking. ‘How did they even get that far?’ You sighed and rolled your eyes chuckling with him.

He continued to chuckle as he dropped the plums in your hand and said ‘Well… you had a pretty determined face as you were walking’. 

You laughed, knowing the face he meant. ‘Well, I don't think I can stay in this heat for any much longer... so it was that, or suffer slowly’ you mentioned.

‘Oh yeah… of course!’ ‘Here, let me help you’. The tall stranger started to gather the various tins and the packet that had fallen by your feet. 

You had been standing next to him as you tucked the other bag further into your arm. You started to awkwardly lean down to help him pick up the last few tins when he suddenly stood up, his forehead meeting your chin. The pain flooded your tongue as you accidentally bit on it on impact.

‘Oh my God! ‘Oh my God, I am so sorry’ the stranger repeated. ‘I am so sorry miss’. ‘Here, lemme, get you something for that! Ice is good’. He started to fumble in his back pocket until he realised the stupidity of his actions. 

Redness flooded his face. ‘Um, I’ll just run back to my place. I'm pretty sure i've got some ice sitting in the back of my freezer’. He awkwardly rubbed his hands on his jeans, walking backwards, until you nodded, prompting him to say a soft ‘okay’.

He left as soon as he had arrived, leaving you on the sidewalk with your groceries still lying by your feet. You were considering placing the rest of your food in the other bag as you heard hurried footsteps bound towards you again. Looking up, the brown haired stranger was holding out this time a bag of ice cubes.

You tried to smile this time but it didn't quite reach your eyes. You should have been more grateful but you couldn't help thinking just how… tiresome your day had been so far. 

He placed his hands on his hips, signalling his hand to his apartment. ‘So… do you want to come in and sit down for a bit? You’ve got blood on your lip’

Your hand instinctively went to touch your lip and drew back to look at your crimson fingers. He was right. Even still. This man was a complete stranger. You didn't know him! Was he using that as a pick up line to get you to….

‘Oh wow! I am so sorry. I regretted that as soon as I opened my mouth’ he started apologising again, as if he had read your mind.

You smiled softly as the ice began numbing your lip and said ‘no its okay, I should really get going.’ ‘My food isnt going to walk to my apartment’. 

You started the ritual again, of putting the food in the other bag when you realised that a hole was forming in that one too. Tall guy followed your eyes and said softly ‘Hey, please. Let me at least help you get home’. He started to reach his arm out in the busy traffic when you stopped him and said ‘no, it's okay, my apartment isn't that far away’.

He scratched the back of his neck again and his dark eyes glinted, catching the name of the grocer printed on the bag ‘Adela’s Deli and Grocery’. Before you registered what was going on, he had started running in the direction that you had walked from, shouting ‘I’ll be right back!’.

This time, you really gave up. You had just spent an extra ten minutes outside in the heat that you weren't planning on. You gathered the rest of your things and walked to his apartment building steps. With a sigh, you sat down with resignation, not really knowing what else to do. 

As you stared at your definitely melted dumplings, you heard the jazz music that had surprised you before. Had it been playing all this time? It was so much louder before!

You looked behind your shoulder and took a deep breath in. Wet paint filled your nostrils and for the first time today, you felt still. You closed your eyes, the music seemed to drown the traffic and the smell of paint distracted you from the pain in your mouth. You must have looked a mess.

You quickly realised that the stranger was the one who had made you stop in alarm. His loud jazz music had frightened you and… and if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be sitting on his steps; sweaty, bloody and with 2 torn bags. Actually… the bags had been your fault, so the handsome guy was excused from that equation. Wait.You found him handsome? ‘Y/N!’ you sighed to yourself with your eyes still closed, ashamed that your brain had subconsciously led you to this conclusion. You continued to silently scold yourself for feeling mushy about a stranger helping you who just happened to be handsome. He couldn't help it! Also, where had he gone? And why were you still sitting on his steps like a squatter? You started to wonder about his one gloved hand. Did he have a medical condition? Also, who wore long sleeves in this weather?

**************************************************************************************

Handsome man had stopped running when his apartment building came into view and he saw you sat down on his steps. He inhaled sharply as he saw your face angled towards the sky, the sun hitting your cheekbones perfectly, the light hitting your curls and shoulders to create a perfect silhouette of a shadow behind you. His heart beat faster as he approached you.

***************************************************************************************

Someone cleared their throat. You were still in a closed trance when you heard it again followed with a deep but soft ‘Hey’.

Your eyes blinked open to reveal handsome guy standing in front of you, now slightly sweaty, holding out 3 bags with Adela’s shop's name on them. 

‘You… you ran to Adela’s in this heat?’ You said, clearly astonished.

 ‘Ah.. yeah its not that far, only 3 blocks away.’ He looked embarrassed at the sudden attention.

There was a pause as you both looked at each other. His face with a slight smile and yours with a smile too, though yours must have been more puffy and swollen. 

‘Oh…. um here.’ He gave you two bags and with the third he started to pick up your groceries from his steps. Unprompted. You started to wonder whether your friend Maddie’s perception of NYC men being ungentlemanly, was accurate.

You started to transfer the other groceries when you remembered you hadn't said thank you. Not properly anyway.

‘Thank you so much by the way… this was really nice of you’ You began.‘You didn't have to run all the way and back...but thank you’. You had started to trip over your words so you decided to stop yourself there. 

Handsome man simply looked up to meet your Y/E/C eyes, smiled and said ‘it was the right thing to do.’

You must have had a mini blackout at that point because the man was standing at the bottom of the steps next, reaching out his free hand, still smiling and said ‘I’m Bucky by the way’.

You extended yours, smiled and said ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N’.

You had joined him at the bottom of the steps when he said ‘So, I’ll help you get these to your place’. ‘We wouldn't want another casualty on our hands now would we’. 

‘How altruistic of you’. This time you laughed properly. 

Bucky thought it was the most wonderful thing he had heard all month.

Leading the way, you both started to say ‘So, um’. You both chuckled at the synchronicity. You talked mostly while Bucky listened. You both talked about the weather, and you told him how disappointed you were this morning to find that your cookie dough ice cream had melted all over your counter. He started to say how his favourite flavour was vanilla with chopped plums on the side when you said.

‘I couldn't have vanilla because the soy ones taste awful’. 

Stopping in his tracks he said ‘What? You don’t eat dairy? Ever?’

‘Ever’ you laughed. ‘Though sometimes cheese is my weakness. 

‘Oh man’. Bucky started to chuckle ‘I don't blame you! Pasta and pizza would be nowhere without cheese!’.

You had now reached your front door when you said ‘Well. This is me…. Thanks for everything, Bucky’.

Bucky waved his free arm as if to say it was nothing. He waited until you had found your key in your back pocket and had opened the front door. You placed your bag inside the door and turned around to see Bucky handing you the one he had carried for you.

‘So.. um well. It was nice meeting you.’ He nervously looked down at your mouth ‘I’m really sorry about your mouth too’.

‘Please no, don't be.. takes two to tango’. You cringed inwardly and cursed yourself as you took your bag from his arms and placed it inside. 

Bucky looked amused to say the least as he chuckled at your innuendo. He now felt he had to say something profound. Anything to make you want to see him again as much as he wished to see you. Would that have been weird? He thought he felt a connection between you. He started to scold himself that this was the 21st century. And everything was different. 

He cleared his throat and started… ‘So, I was wondering if I could see you again?’ Would that be okay?’

You were shocked. A handsome guy was asking to see you. Little old you. You started to nod and said ‘Yeah, sure.’ ‘Well, we both know where we live’. You almost slapped yourself for not offering your number instead of opening your mouth.

‘Oh yeah, pretty sure there's some stray plums marking my door right now’ He laughed. 

Your eyes met again with a pause. Bucky wanted to stare at you all day. Until he remembered… His front door. He had left it open all this time. 

Bucky started to run back. Again, but this time, with panic in his dark blue eyes. ‘I’ll see you soon, doll’, he shouted.

You grasped the railing outside and as you headed inside, you exhaled and smiled.

Hey everyone! Thanks for making it this far if you have. Im basically new to writing imagines so I would love any ideas or feedback you may have. I would also love some friends on here so HI :)

[mudhornchronicles]

that cantina | din djarin

^ not my gif

pairing: din djarin x f!bartender reader 

warnings: sexual themes and outfits, cursing, adult thots...

fic inspired by this post by @flightlessangelwings 

a/n: this is my first time publishing on tumblr and writing about my beloved tin can. so pls bare with me. also pls enjoy the read + the little divider thing i just made and s/o to @jangohshit​ for the awesome url 

masterlist

As she picks up her 50 owed credits and wipes away the watery rims on the streaky mahogany bar top left by a patron’s 6th glass of cold spotchka, she commends the Dug’s ability to walk out of the cantina without crashing onto the floor. Dugs may be small and slender, but Maker can they hold their liquor. With the amount of people in the stuffy, ill-lit cantina, she would expect the Dug to bump into something or someone in his alcohol-driven state.

Unfortunately for her, she did not get to see the amusing sight. Instead, she began to sense the sudden feeling of being watched. She discreetly scopes out the cantina and is immediately met with the intimidating figure and intense stare from a very familiar beskar helmet. She smirks over at the Mandalorian and give a slight nod to guide him over to her side of the risqué cantina.

This cantina in particular, located in the outskirts of Canto Bight, was known for the racy atmosphere once you stepped through the door. Many cantinas liked to keep it simple and vintage with a bar top, tables, and space to walk through. This specific cantina was not that. Whether you were looking to have a drink and observe the bartenders clad in lingerie or pay and party with ladies of the night, everyone knew this cantina as that cantina.

She met him about 3 cycles ago. He was looking for a Gungan gone rogue and his tracking fob led him to Canto Bight. When he had asked about the bounty to people in the city, they all told him that he’d find the bounty at that cantina. He began to get frustrated, but then he saw her. As she walked to work, she’d caught his eye. He walked over to her and she smiled at him. Mando had never had someone just smile at him, and Maker did her smile ignite something in him. She walked with him to the cantina with her walking in first and him following minutes later. When she caught his eye again, it was for a very different reason.

The worn leather bustier she wore emphasized her chest so much that Mando had to make sure his visor was not distorting the image in front of him. She wore a yellow and black plaid skirt and some heels whose laces wound up to her knee. He knew she was beautiful, but then he noticed the insincere smile she wore as she worked behind the bar. This job was supposed to be in and out – quick and simple. But meeting her made him want to let the bounty enjoy his 2,000 credits he just spent on a Pantoran lady. When he landed the first time, he told himself he’d never come back to that weird place. Yet, here he is again for what feels like the thousandth time.

She turns around to face the inside of the worn-down bar and adjusts her breasts in her obsidian-colored corset. She always wanted to look her best for her favorite client. She grabs a clean glass of water and turns back around to lean on the counter. All because she is the Mandalorian best view in the place, or at least that is what he's told her.  

“Me'vaar ti gar,” he coldly says to her.

She looks into his visor with a stern look. “Naas.”

A lighthearted sound comes out the beskar helmet as he lightly taps the counter and takes a seat. “Kandosii!”

“Don’t know what that means, but what will it be today, Mando? Business or pleasure?” She winks at him while his visor is set on her face. She doesn’t know that the man behind the visor has been in cantina for an hour prior to his approach just looking at the woman he can’t seem to shake off.

“There has never been pleasure, mesh’la. Just business,” he calmly says. She shrugs and passes him the glass of water.

“Never hurts to ask, right? Maybe one day you’ll change your mind,” she says jokingly. “So, tell me. What bounty are you looking for now? I can’t confirm or deny that I have any information for you tonight, but there was a suspicious Twi'lek that came in about an hour ago. He’s on the other side of the bar.”

He looks towards the green Twi’lek and nods. He puts the glass aside and gives her a once over. “When did you get that corset? Last time I was here, you had a purple one. The one with the lace trimming and black ties in the back.” She smiles and looks down. He remembers, she thought.

“It started to get worn down so I sold it for 25 credits. Better than nothing, but do you like it? I just bought it with the credits you oh so greatly left me the last time.” She lightly taps his gloved hand resting on the counter. “What did you say when you left it? Think of it as a tip for your information and all I told you was that there was no Rodian,” she laughs. A modulated chuckle leaves his helmet as he looks at the other bartenders in the place. All in lingerie, more revealing than hers. Although she was wearing a corset, which covered most of her torso, her legs were very exposed. A sight Mando forcibly had to rip away from every time he was here. His mind wandered every time.

The thought of running his bare fingers along the bottom of her smooth legs to the top of her supple thighs.

The thought of how they’d feel wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to her as he fills her with the feelings he can’t verbally express to her yet.

The thought of her thighs pressing the sides of his head as he ea-

He is ripped out of the less than innocent daydream as she’s waving her hand in front of his visor. “Mandooooo. You in there?” His line of tinted vision focuses back onto her smiling face, the smile that haunts his dreams. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

She shakes her head and smirks. “I said if you need any information on a bounty! I have a client who wants me to join his little “get together” and is paying a good amount, so I don’t have much time.” She nudges her head up to a balcony set up in the cantina where other ladies are dancing for a group of Weequays.

He looks up and looks back at her. “How much ae they paying for you to waste your time with him?” She smirks and raises her eyebrow at the warrior in front of her.

“You jealous?”

“Jii, dala,” he warns.

She pouts and crosses her arms, which, in Mando’s eyes, only accentuates her chest. “No fair. You haven’t taught me that, yet.”

He sighs. He straightens up and leans a bit forward toward her. “Cyare, how much is he paying for you to go up there?”

She looks at his visor and feels as if she can look into the eyes of her beloved warrior. She looks back down at her hands. “3,000.”

“Dank farrik,” he whispers to himself. He looks down into his belt and counts the credits he currently has. A grand total of 1,400. He knows he can’t out-do 3,000 credits. He still must go out and get The Child and himself some supplies. They can’t survive on the old ration packs he had for emergency purposes.

Truthfully, she doesn’t want to go up there either. She was already given a new “uniform” by the Toydarian cantina owner for the night. A brown leather bra, black lace panties, black ripped stockings, and, weirdly enough, a pair of old brown boots. Weequays know nothing of fashion she thought to herself. As much as she knows Weequays can get touchy, she knows she can’t say no. She’s getting 1000 of those credits. A 33% share is a rare occurrence for Toydarians and she needs those credits if she wants to eat and have a roof over her head. She looks back at her Mandalorian and decides to lighten the mood.

“So do you like it or not?”

He turns and looks back at her. “Like what?”

She does a slow spin with the smile that can melt Hoth. “The outfit you bought me!”

“It’s nice,” he simply says, still not okay with her upcoming shift.

She abruptly stops and pouts. “Nice? I won’t be getting tips with a nice outfit, Mando. What if I unbutton the top buttons?” She goes to unbutton her corset and takes a step back when Mando suddenly grabs her hand to halt her actions.

“No.” He looks at her hand in his hand loosens his grip, but her hand remains in his. “I- I meant that you look nice in it. Not nice as in cute nice, but nice as in you look…” He stops speaking and looks at her. “You look… you look incredible. Any man would be lucky to have a woman like you at his arm.”

She feels almost giddy inside, as if her elementary school crush finally came up to say hello followed by her name. She looked at her hand in his as she felt a light blush form across her cheeks. “You really think so?”

Before he could answer, the aforementioned Toydarian cantina owner flies over to her all the while yelling her name. She immediately let go of her Mandalorian’s hand and acknowledges her boss. He begins yelling at her for not yet changing for her appointment with the Weequay group and she notices the beskar covered warrior tense. Mando stands and faces the Toydarian and begins to speak, but is cutoff by her.

“Don’t worry, boss. I was just wrapping up this client’s order. I’m going. You’ll get your 2000 credits.” She begins to push her boss away.

“You better make them happy. They’ve got loose pockets.” The Toydarian suddenly grabs her chin “If they say jump, you say how high. You got-“ She follows his gaze over to her Mandalorian, only to see him pointing a blaster at the Toydorian’s head.

“She’s going to do what she’s comfortable doing, you got that?”

Her boss chuckles and shakes his head at the bounty hunter. “She’s going to do what is going to make me money.”

She tries to interfere, but the bounty hunter grabs her boss by his face’s trunk. “Listen here, you oversized Kowakian. They aren’t going to touch her and she’s going to do her job. That’s it.” She tries to convince Mando to let the small creature go, but the warrior wasn’t done. “If I hear she was uncomfortable in even the slightest, it’s your trunk on my wall. Do you understand?” All she saw was her boss frantically nod in agreement and fly away as soon as Mando let go. She looks over at the Mandalorian she has grown to harbor deep feelings for.

“What the hell was that!”

He slides his blaster back into its holster and places some credits on the counter, more than what an untouched glass of water costs.

“You’re going to do your job and so am I. You see the biggest Weequay in the group?” she looks over and nods.

He activates the tracking puck, revealing that the Weequay leader was coincidentally his bounty. “Stars, Mando! If you are catching him, then why are you so worried about me going up there?” He looks over to her and shrugs.

“Why would I want you to be in that position?”

She smiles at him and lightly gives her own shrug. She checks the time and takes the still untouched glass of water. “Well Mando, it was nice to see you again. Should I expect you in the next couple of rotations?”

“Possibly.”

She lets out a small laugh and she takes the credits for the water, leaving the rest. Before he can protest, she catches him by surprise with her departing choice of words. “You know Mando, sometimes I think you might love me.” With that she laughs and waves a goodbye as she walks away to ready herself for the Weequays.

He watches her leave and his eyes direct themselves to her behind. Those small shorts that leave little to the imagination as they shape the swells of her ass beautifully. He is a man after all. He smiles to himself as he recalls her previous statement. He lets out a small chuckle as he stands to scope his bounty. “Yeah… might.”

mando’a translations:

Me'vaar ti gar [Meh-VAR tee-GAR] = How are you? (Lit. What’s new with you?)

Naas [nahs] = Good (Lit. Nothing)

per mandoa.org “Me'vaar ti gar = How are you? (Lit: what's new with you?) Can also be used to ask a soldier for a sitrep. If a Mando asks you this, they expect an answer; it's literal.. The response for *I'm fine thanks,* is *Naas.* (Literally - nothing. )”

Kandosii! [Kan-DOH-see] = Nice one! Wicked! Well done!

Mesh’la [MAYSH`lah] = beautiful

Jii [gee] = Now

Dala [DAH-lah] = Woman

Cyare [SHAH-ray] = beloved

tags:

@flightlessangelwings @din-damn-djarin

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Bogotá Kiss

Prologue: There Was a Boy

Summary/Author’s Note: Javier Peña had finally gotten his life together. He was a newlywed, back in the states with his bride, and starting his new life free of Escobar and the world of the cartels. That is until he found his wife in bed with another man. On a path of self destruction, he goes back to Bogota, reclaims his job with the DEA, his partner Steve Murphy, and throws himself into his work, cheap whiskey, and the company of his...informants. 

You are a singer in the hottest burlesque club in Columbia. Pulling yourself out of poverty and into a world where men throw money at your feet, buy you diamonds, and pay untold amounts for your services. You don’t mind that the club’s biggest source of income is smuggling diamonds from the necks, wrists, and ears of its prostitutes and into the pockets of their buyers, until a handsome DEA agent gets too close and figures out the scheme. 

**IMPORTANT: For those familiar with Moulin Rouge--The reader will NOT die at the end. Fuck that. Let Javi be happy god dammit. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (Moulin Rouge/French Kiss AU) Word Count: 1.6k (its just a prologue, the next chapter will be better) Warnings (for entire fic): NC-17/18+ - Language, sex, prostitution, mentions/implied R*pe (nothing will ever be described in detail or used as a plot device), typical canon violence for NARCOS, shooting, attempted murder, drug use, blackmail, hurt/comfort, lies and betrayal, happy ending

[MASTERLIST]

"It's not what it looks like."

People didn't actually say that line, did they? And worse yet, no one actually would possibly believe it. Right? The words fell from her lips and suddenly Javier Peña felt like he was watching a movie about someone else's life. A cliché of a film in which the idiot of a husband walked in on his wife bouncing on the dick of another man. He was that idiot, and as she scrambled off the lap of the stranger and called his name, he slammed the door behind him, not bothering to wait for an explanation. Queue the laugh track or cut to the scene of him walking in the rain to somber music. 

Only this wasn't a movie. There would be no comedic relief, just a lot of heartache, wasted time and money. He had always had a bad habit of falling for the wrong girl. He would see himself mirrored in the eyes of the broken, the depressed, the ones who, much like him, just seemed unable to catch a break in life. But instead of getting a kindred spirit to share his world with, he usually just got a lot of baggage and a quick lay.  

He packed a bag, not giving a shit about any of his worldly possessions, and found himself at the Dallas airport, sitting at the bar and waiting for his gate number to be called. 

He raised two fingers, letting the bartender know he wanted a fucking double, as he held his cellphone to his ear and listened to it ring. The boxy phone didn't fit comfortably against his shoulder and he dropped it just as the other end picked up and Steve's voice came through.

"Murphy."

"Fuck. Shit." Javier fumbled the phone and held it back against his face.

"Javi?"

"Yeah, it's me." Javier sighed as he picked up his whiskey and tossed it back with a mild wince. "I'm on my way back."

"I heard." Steve paused. "Carolyn called. I told her I didn't know where you were."

"Thanks, 'appreciate it."

"I talked to Noonan. She said your job's still open. You can have it and the keys to your apartment." 

They both paused for an extended period of time. Javier ordered another shot of whiskey and Steve breathed quietly on the other end of the phone. Neither one of them had to say out loud what they both already knew. Javier had fallen for the wrong girl, again. His heart was broken and he wanted to drown out the ache he was feeling in cheap booze, a carton of Marlboro, and expensive pussy. 

"I'll pick you up from the airport. Safe trip, Jav."

"Thanks, Murph."

Javier pressed the button on the phone and rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. It was all smooth sailing from here. He was on his way back to normalcy, back to doing what he did best, hunting Narcos and not having any emotional ties to anything that mattered. 

--

The car ride from the airport had been quiet for the most part but Javier could tell that Steve was just dying to ask. So, when they parked in front of the apartment and neither one of them moved, he dug his smokes out of his jacket pocket and rolled down the window. He flicked his silver lighter to life and inhaled deeply as Steve shut off the engine. 

"Go ahead. Ask."

Steve sighed and looked at his friend. "What happened, man?"

"I let it go too far, like an idiot. And she couldn't even wait until the honeymoon was over before she tripped and landed on some other man's dick." He inhaled deeply and ran his thumb along his mustache. 

"Shit. I'm sorry--"

"Don't," Javier cut him off and shook his head. "Okay? Don't."

"You file for divorce?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Lawyer is drawing everything up now so we can sign it." 

"I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm sorry, Javi. You seemed happy." Steve looked at him and Javier flicked his cigarette out of the window. 

"Yeah, I know." He took another long drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt out onto the sidewalk. “Tell Connie I said ‘hi’, okay?” 

With a mumbled thanks for the ride and a couple of quick 'see you tomorrows', he opened the car door and grabbed his suitcase out of the back seat and walked up the stairs and into the apartment building. He went through the motions of coming back to this place that he knew quite well, as he went downstairs and stuck his keys in the door without needing to turn on a light. 

He tossed his keys on the side table and kicked the door shut gently as he dropped his shoulder bag and looked around. The only furniture that the place had was the old embassy supplied leather couch, scuffed up coffee table, and bar stools against the kitchen counter. Fuck. That settled what he would be doing tomorrow, getting all his furniture out of storage and having the embassy replace what he didn’t have. 

Before tossing his leather jacket on the back of the couch, he got out another cigarette and let it bob between his lips as he mumbled to himself. He inhaled deeply and tossed his lighter next to his keys before making his way to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge, he didn’t know if he wanted to run upstairs and kiss her, or if he wanted to clutch his chest and cry. 

The entire appliance was completely bare and wiped out, the light making the white shelves look entirely too bright, but sitting in the middle of the top shelf was a covered casserole of some kind and a bottle of whiskey. A note was taped to the tin foil that read: 

“Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Please eat something while you drink this. -- love, Connie.”

At least Steve knew how to pick a woman, because that’s exactly what Connie was, one hell of a woman. Javier grabbed the bottle of liquor and mentally promised Connie that he would eat later. He wasn’t hungry. He really hadn’t been hungry for the last few days, and as he looked at the whiskey and cracked the seal on the lid, he didn’t mourn that the kitchen didn’t have any glasses. He was well beyond the need for a glass. 

He took the bottle to the couch, kicked off his boots and plopped down heavily. The whiskey was a familiar burn down his throat and he felt it all the way to his belly. Warm, inviting, and just what he needed. Another drink was followed by a long drag of his cigarette before he kick backed and muttered, “Home, sweet, home,” to a cold, empty house.

--

The banging on the door permeated his skull in a way that he didn’t think was possible. But then again it had been a long time since he had been this hungover. He rolled over on the leather couch and shoved his face into the cushions and prayed that whoever wanted him would just go away. There was no one on this green earth that he wanted to speak to.

He must have fallen back asleep briefly because the next thing he knew, his partner had let himself into his apartment with his spare key and was nudging his leg that was hanging off the side of the couch. 

“Javi,” Steve said as he plucked the empty liquor bottle from under his friend’s arm. “Javi!” 

“Is too early,” Javier mumbled into the leather of the sofa.

“It’s 4 in the afternoon.” Steve said, setting the bottle on the coffee table. “I told Noonan you were taking the weekend to unpack--” Steve looked around the apartment and then back to the horizontal man. “Looks like you’re done.”

“Fuck you.”

Steve shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “Come on. You need a shower. I’d offer to buy you a drink but you smell like you’ve got that taken care of. So, how about a lap dance? There’s this new place on the other side of town--got your name written all over it.”

“Go away.”

Steve, rubbed his hand down his face and glared at the shell of the man that he had gotten to know over the last couple of years. The day Javier Peña turned down a lap dance, it would have been a cold day in hell and yet the evidence was right there in front of him. Someone needed to tell the devil to go check his thermostat.

“Mmkay.” Steve said sharply and took the empty bottle over to the sink and filled it about half way with tap water. When he dumped it on top of Javier’s head, the way the dark-haired man sputtered and sat straight up brought him more joy than it probably should have. “Good morning!”

“F-fucking hillbilly,” Javier cursed as he pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face.

“Get your ass in the shower and I won’t tell Con that you didn’t eat her food she left you.” When his friend paused long enough to lower his shirt and glare at him, Steve continued. “I’m not fuckin’ around, Javi.”

The two men stood at odds of one another, but the blond refused to relent. Javier shoved his now soaking wet hair back from where it was plastered to his face and nodded. He stood with a groan and gave Steve his middle finger as he trudged to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Missed you, too, bud!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth in a mock yell after the other man’s retreating form. It was going to be a long road to getting his partner back to his usual self, but the natural place to start was with some no-strings-attached pussy.

--

PERM TAG LIST:

@rae-gar-targaryen​ @zeldasayer @blondeeee-e @winters-buck @gooddaykate @jigglemiwa @seawhisperer @halefirewarrior @ripleyafterdark @phoenixhalliwell @thebakerstboyskeeper @honestlystop @lackofhonor @readsalot73 @cryptkeepersoul @skdubbs @cahooter @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @googiebeankat @dinohaze @saltywintersoldat @huliabitch @silver-lined-solitude @tainted-gay-ghost @roxypeanut @@hayley-the-comet @domino-oh-damn @manda-but-not-lorian @maybege @corvueros @thea-cartier @pettyprocrastination @qveenbvtch @hopplessdreamer  @pocket-of-anxiety @marie-is-in-the-dark @agentpike @pascalplease @cosmicbug379         @your-pixels-are-showing @gamingaquarius @blushingwueen @crimsonandwhiteprincess @bluemoon-glen @river-soul @robbinholland @nerdypinupcrystal @fleetwoodmactshirt @jaime1110 @fioccodineveautunnale @fantasticcopeaglepasta @kid-from-new-zealand @theofficialwatchtower @roguereds @c4llm3jj @apples-of-february

[wireddless]

Codeine Scene (Five H. x Reader) [3]

Codeine Scene Masterlist

Authors Note: First off, I am SO sorry. New Years is always a slow time for me, and I did not mean to take this long to publish. Second of all, this chapter is a transition chapter into a much more fucked up story. I’m warning you now that the rest of this fic will get really really dark. I don’t recommend reading after this chapter if you can’t handle depictions of r*pe, murder, heavy drug use (cocaine, etc,) and other disturbing topics . I’m basing this story off of personal experiences, and in no way do I want someone who isn’t ready to read something like this to read this. This is like the last safe chapter, please do not read after this if you can’t handle the topics mentioned above

Summary: Klaus moves Reader up to Ben’s old room early in the morning. Afterwards, they eat breakfast and decide to trip on acid together. Five learns more about her than he expected to today

Warnings: Drug use (LSD[acid],) mentions of suicide, mentions of sex

Word Count: 3777

Taglist: @alexander-hamilhoe @dumdumsun

The gentle shaking of (Y/n)’s shoulder pulled her from her sleep. Klaus stood over her, harshly whispering her name. Looking towards his window, she could see the sky was just barely starting to light up, it was still early. 

“Klaus it’s like 7:30!” She quickly grabbed the sheet that was covering her from the waist down and yanked it over her head. A small groan left Klaus’s mouth and he yanked it back off of her. “It’s Sunday!” She tried convincing him to let her sleep in, but it was no use. 

“I talked to Ben and he said you could stay in his room!” Klaus wrestled with (Y/n) over the blanket, knowing she was still tired. Ever the impatient man he was, Klaus spoke again, “We gotta get you settled in right now!” 

“Fine! Fine. I’m up.” (Y/n) sat up and shoved her matted hair out of her face.  “Why right now?” Klaus looked at her like the answer was obvious. It wasn’t, of course. 

“Because trauma can be associated with places! Coming in here right after what happened yesterday could be an issue.” He grabbed a hair brush off of his dresser and pushed her to sit on the bed. Climbing behind her, he started to brush her hair. “Even if you aren’t reminded of it in here, it’s always good to be able to have some privacy.” He made valid points. 

“I guess you're right.” Klaus was extraordinarily gentle with her hair, pulling out all of the mats and even putting in the effort to put it in a low ponytail to keep it out of her face.  “Thank you.” (Y/n) turned and smiled at Klaus, pulling him into a quick, tight, hug. 

Ben's room was up the green stairway, across from Five’s room. (Y/n)’s face scrunched a little when she realized Five would be right across the hallway, but she didn’t complain. Her arms were a little tired from carrying her suitcase and heavier back pack up the stairs so early in the morning, but it would fade rather quickly.

Klaus opened the door and stepped aside, letting (Y/n) rush to the bed with her heavy luggage. “Dad replaced everything in this room a week after Ben died.” Klaus sat on the bed next to her luggage, and she plopped next to him. “He said old reminders would only set us back, so he made this one of many guest rooms.” Klaus peered in the closet, knowing that Ben’s academy uniforms were no longer hanging pristinely on the rack. 

“He didn’t die in here, did he?” (Y/n) turned to look at Klaus, feeling heavy sympathy. 

“Oh no! A mission went wrong, and I suppose we all messed up, but the monster inside his chest started tearing him apart.” Klaus’s usual, very happy energy, was replaced by a solemn, cold one. “He died in the infirmary.” Klaus looked down at the bedsheets. They weren’t the one that Ben had used. “I still talk to him every day, but it still makes me a little sad.” Klaus sniffled and rubbed his eyes. 

(Y/n) pulled Klaus into a bone crushing hug, knowing he needed the comfort. “That’s terrible.” She was a very empathetic person, relying more on feeling than thinking, so she was struggling to hold back her own tears. “Are you sure he’s ok with this?” 

“Yeah! He said something about moving on, and finally attempting to find peace.” Klaus clapped his hands once as he stood. “He’s kind of started meditating too, which is kind of weird, because he’s a ghost and all.” He stood and glanced around the room, getting a good look at it before (Y/n) would make it her own. “Let’s go get some breakfast after we unpack, huh?” 

“That sounds nice.” (Y/n) stood and hugged Klaus again, silently letting him know that she was there for him. 

The walk all the way down to the basement kitchen was unexpectedly exhausting. Six flights of stairs later, two flights between every floor, they were sitting at the table, staring at Five scrape his eggs off the skillet and onto his toast. 

“I’m not making eggs for you two.” His voice was monotone and annoyed. He wasn’t a morning person. “Take some responsibility and make them yourself.” Five grabbed his food and coffee, and looked at both of them before giving his usual tight-lipped smirk and blipping away, presumably to his room. 

Klaus released a few small giggles he was holding in and hopped off the island. “He always seems to add a little spice to life.”

As he was making his way over to the fridge to grab some eggs, (Y/n) asked; “Is he like this every morning?” Not wasting a second after her question, Klaus replied. 

“Yep!” He pulled out four eggs and set them in a clean bowl on the counter. “Without a doubt. It’s worse on weekdays too, because the classes he teaches are all early in the morning. Now do you want scrambled, fried, or boiled?” 

“Scrambled, please.” As Klaus got to work on making breakfast for the two of them, she thought about what Five might teach. “Hey Klaus?” 

“Yeah?” Klaus was stirring the already scrambled eggs in the skillet. 

“What does Five teach? I mean it makes sense that he’s a teacher, but I just can’t think of what he’d be so willing to teach for a living.” Klaus looked back at (Y/n) before down at the eggs again. Her chin was resting in her hands, and she stared over at him, waiting for his answer. 

“I think some sort of ethics class, like there’s different types of ethics, but that’s all I really know. He doesn’t really talk about work, and it’s a bit weird considering he was an assassin.” Klaus split the scrambled eggs in two separate bowls with forks in them and gave one to (Y/n). 

“He killed people?” (Y/n) dug into the eggs, shoving them in her mouth, listening for Klaus. 

“We’ve all dabbled with a little murder before, it’s not really that big of a deal for us, but he swore never to kill for someone else again, I’m pretty sure.” Klaus fillet out a little moan of joy as he started filling his own stomach with the eggs. 

“That must be why he was so unphased about what happened yesterday, that makes me feel a lot better.” She concluded, trying not to remember the way she nearly beat the life out of the man in Five’s car as she shoved more of Klaus’s eggs in her mouth. “These are really good!” 

“Danke!” Klaus thanked her in German, with a mouth full of eggs. He swallowed them and continued speaking. “That actually reminds me- you’ve done acid right?” (Y/n) thought on the question for a moment before answering. 

“No actually, but I did do shrooms a lot with my friends before I dropped out.” Her fork scraped the bowl, trying to get the last of the eggs. 

“Good! You have experience.” Klaus poured the last of his eggs in his mouth, straight from the bowl, before swallowing. “Would you like to do acid with me? You don’t have to, but I feel like this would definitely raise your spirits.” Klaus leaned toward her, waiting for her answer. 

“I’d love to actually.” (Y/n) swallowed the last of her eggs, and stacked her bowl with Klaus’s, before taking them to the sink to wash them. Klaus stood and followed her, digging in the breast pocket of his half-unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and pulling out a small square of folded tin foil. 

“Great! Now stick your tongue out.” Klaus unfolded the foil and pulled a tiny white square of paper, roughly the size of a phone keyboard key, out from the six-ish others in it. (Y/n) stuck her tongue out as she rinsed the now-clean bowls and Klaus placed the piece of paper on it, before sticking one on his own tongue.

(Y/n) stuck her tongue back in her mouth and sucked a bit on the paper. “So do I swallow it, or…?” The tab didn’t make it any harder to talk, thank god. 

“If you want to, but you absorb it faster when it’s in your mouth.” Klaus picked up the bowls and started drying them. “It’s not bitter at all is it?” Klaus asked, checking to make sure she didn’t take a laced tab.

(Y/n) focused on the tab again, not really noticing any taste. “Not that I can notice.” Klaus smiled as he shut the cabinet where he placed the bowls. 

“That means we’re all good! You can swallow it when the paper feels soggy enough, though, you’ve probably absorbed most of it by now.” Klaus led her back upstairs to his room, practically dragging her by her wrist. “Things are gonna get really funny for a little bit before you actually start tripping.” Klaus shut the door behind them and plopped on his bed. 

“Doesn’t it take like an hour to kick in?” This wasn’t her first rodeo, so she knew her way around at least a bit. 

“Yeah yeah, it’s kinda like shrooms? But the visuals and the trip are just a bit different, you’ll see what I mean.” Klaus grabbed a joint he had rolled earlier and lit up, taking a few puffs before passing it to (Y/n). “Just settle in for like half an hour and then get up to see how you feel.” 

•••

Tripping on LSD was a profound experience. (Y/n) wasn’t able to go outside, as it was raining cold, so she stayed inside, wandering around the house. She and Klaus made some really cool art, and Klaus held it over the vents to dry while she was walking around the house. 

Tripping felt like seeing the universe fully for the first time, and she could somewhat understand Klaus’s view of the world. Many times throughout the last three hours, she thought she saw Five blipping away out of the corner of her eye. She had dismissed it every time, of course.

Now the trip was peaking, and the visuals were insane. The air around (Y/n) felt like breathable, transparent, clay, and it was a little overwhelming with all the visuals, so she opened the door in front of her and quietly sat next to it, letting out a long, happy sigh. Closing her eyes, she paid attention to the gorgeous visuals she could see behind her eyelids. 

(Y/n) didn’t even notice Five sitting on his bed, staring at her from over his book. She was too focused on the movement behind her eyelids, and the euphoric feeling surrounding her, so when Five spoke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I think you have the wrong room.” The sound of Five closing his book reached her ears. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I- I wasn’t paying attention I’ll leave.” (Y/n) stumbled over her words as she tried to stand, clearly embarrassed.

“No, no, it’s fine actually.” Five spoke, rather out of character. “A little company once in a while feels nice, and I see no harm when you’re being quiet.” His face was beyond distorted, but she could still recognize his permanent scowl. 

“Really?” (Y/n) settled back down, more relaxed and at ease. 

“Yeah, I don’t really care.” Five grabbed his book again, opening it back to where he was. “Just don’t be too annoying.”  

“I won’t don’t worry.” Five grunted quietly at her response. A smile painted itself on her face, and she slid all the way down the wall, with her head now on the floor with the rest of her. 

•••

And she was quiet. Five watched for like an hour and a half as her eyes slowly focused on something new in his room every few moments. She was quite taken by the math equations across his wall, and he found it rather cute. He started to find her less annoying, now understanding that she coped the way his brother did. 

He was alone once again in his room now, no longer accompanied by (Y/n). In fact, she was accompanied by one of her “friends.” She barely even knew the guy. 

Five could hear everything. Every moan. Every word spoken with the intent of being quiet, but wasn’t held under the gentle guise of a whisper. It infuriated him. 

Of course, he understood that she didn’t grow up in a particularly healthy home, given that she was in a homeless shelter at almost 18, so she didn’t understand healthy coping habits. It genuinely hurt his heart, if just a little bit, that he could watch another hurt soul walk down the same path as his brother. 

Klaus had gotten help for his addictions, and was off addictive drugs completely, but even Five understood that not everyone will be able to get the help they need. He wouldn’t say he had any feelings for her, but he still felt sympathy. 

Knowing that it was how she coped made hearing all of it a little easier, but he still wasn’t able to handle it after hearing it for fifteen minutes, so he jumped down to the kitchen, brewed himself some herbal tea, added a little vodka, and read his book, criss cross, on the table in the center of the room, attempting to ignore what was happening right across from his room. 

•••

Bailey had just left, and (Y/n) was exhausted. He was kind of an ass, and he treated her like shit in middle school, but he was a horny teen, and it was really easy to just invite him over.

The trip was fading out now. She was no longer peaking, and the visuals were far less intense. (Y/n), after standing at the stairs, staring at them for a couple minutes, deemed it safe to be able to walk down them. She knew it was normally safe to go down the steps while tripping, but something in her head told her to wait, so she did. 

These particular steps were a little steep, as well, so she made her way down slowly, leading herself to the kitchen in the basement. Her bare feet padded quietly on the floor as she walked to the stove, turning the heating element under the tea kettle on. The bags under her eyes felt so beyond heavy, and she knew she’d be sleeping deeply tonight. 

“You done up there?” Five’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. (Y/n) turned and leaned on the counter to face him. 

“Yeah, yeah, he left like ten minutes ago. I’m just really tired and want some tea to relax I guess.” Her arms were crossed, comfortably holding each other up. 

Five hummed in response. “Well I see we both thought of the same thing.” He lifted his mug of tea, peppermint maybe, and put it to his lips. 

“I thought you only drank coffee.” (Y/n) chuckled a little feeling the heat of the stove begin to reach her back. 

“Well it wouldn’t be very logical to drink caffeine so late in the day, especially when I have to teach an early class tomorrow.” Five flipped the page of his book, continuing to read while talking to her. 

“Makes sense.” Her words were drowned out by the high whistling of the tea kettle, letting her know she could pour it into the cup. Grabbing the tin of loose leaf tea, she hummed as she scooped it into the reusable tea bag that was next to it. 

(Y/n) dropped the tea bag in the cup, following up with the boiling water. She turned, bringing her and her cup to the table, now sitting next to Five. Five was a grumpy, annoying, old, man who has to grow up all over again, but his company was enjoyable, it contrasted hers in such a way that it comforted her. It made her feel like her ADHD was less severe, like her inability to focus was matched by someone who could do nothing but focus. 

Only a day had gone by since they met, and she was already comforted by him. 

Five shut his book and looked over at her. The more he got to know her, the more subtly enjoyable he found her. Her sitting not two feet from him didn’t bother him as much as it usually would. He was kind of ok with that. 

“You drink peppermint?” (Y/n)’s voice was scratchy and hoarse. She really did need the tea. 

“Yeah, it’s the least fruity from what I’ve tried.” He took another sip. “Simple classic.” He set it down and looked over at her, engaging in an unexpected conversation.

“I tend to prefer fruitier teas, I’ve noticed.” She looked down at the cup that she’d been drinking out of for a couple minutes now. “They go down easier and really comfort me. Reminds me of my mom, she only ever made fruity teas.” She took another sip, letting the warmth fill her up. 

“What happened to your mom?” Five looked back down at his drink, then back up at the girl next to him. “I noticed that you didn’t exactly live with her when we picked up your stuff.” 

“Yeah..” (Y/n) hesitated a little. He was awfully blunt. “I was like seven when it happened, but I’m told it was a double suicide, between her and dad.” Her legs were swinging a little nervously. “Mom sent me up to my room one night and told me not to come out until she opened the door, no matter what. The next day a detective came into my room and carried me out screaming. They were both dead on the floor. I lived with my aunt and uncle after that.”

“Oh shit.” Five didn’t expect her answer to be this upsetting. 

“Yeah. My uncle told me it was a double suicide, my aunt said the same thing, she manipulated me and made me think they did it because of me.” (Y/n) sighed into her drink, her distorted reflection staring back at her. “I don’t even remember what the scene looked like, just a lot of blood. I don’t look at anything about it either, don’t really want to relive it.” 

“That’s really tough, wow.” Five chuckled uncomfortably and finished his drink. “I didn’t know my mother, but my mom was a robot. She was pretty much indestructible, but she was fully shut off when our house was being attacked a long time ago.”

“Oh my.” (Y/n)’s voice was soft, hoarse, and tired. Her hand gently moved to rest atop his, not really knowing how else to reassure him, if he even needed it, of course. “I’m sorry about that.” 

Five didn’t even seem to notice his hand being covered. “No it’s fine, I got over it long long ago.” His words were just slightly slurred, and his eyes had reddened slightly.

“Well I’m here if you ever need like, a hug or something.” (Y/n) laughed. “I don’t really know how else to comfort anyone.” 

“It shouldn’t be your job to comfort anyone, that’s not your responsibility.” Five chuckled and smiled slightly. (Y/n) hadn’t expected him to smile, and it wasn’t as weird as she thought it would be.

Before she could even mention it though, Klaus’s happy, booming voice echoed in the kitchen as he practically skipped to the fridge. As she yanked her hand away from Five, she noticed the way he pulled his arm away as well. Maybe he did notice?

Klaus and Five started talking about something as he got off the table and placed his cup in the sink, but she wasn’t paying attention. Before her attention was quickly pulled to the floor, she thought on the way Five had wrenched his arm away. 

As anxiety inducing as it was, the LSD that was still in her system made it easy to quickly move onto the next thought. Before she knew it, a flash of blue wrenched her out of her head and she looked up at Klaus, now alone with her in the kitchen. 

“Hey, sweetie.” Klaus kissed her cheek and led her gently off the table and to the stairs. “Your trip going good?” He popped a black olive in his mouth. 

“Yeah it’s going fine, I really like it. It’s kinda different from shrooms, but not like a bad different.” She was just two steps behind him, trying to keep the same pace as him. 

“That’s great.” Klaus hummed as he popped another olive in his mouth. “These are absolutely amazing. I figured you would like it, it’s really calming and stuff for me. Makes the sad feeling kinda disappear for weeks after.” 

“Oh same, I’ve just felt creative and warm all day.” They stopped in front of Klaus’s room, Klaus still eating his olives. “I’m actually exhausted too, the trip felt really nice.” 

“Well I’m glad I could have helped.” Klaus pulled her into a tight hug, humming loudly. Hugs felt great on psychedelics, she had noticed. 

“You helped so much.” (Y/n)’s voice was slightly muffled by Klaus’s chest. She pulled out of Klaus’s chest, speaking again. “I’m gonna go to bed now, if that’s ok, I’m so so tired.” She laughed a little. 

“That’s fine, I’m gonna crash the moment I hit my bed, so..” Klaus smiled down at her, thankful for this mini-him. 

“Night night, Klaus.” (Y/n) and Klaus both separated to head to their rooms, both about to sleep deeply enough to miss a train going through the house. 

The stairs up to her new room were an almost pastel green color, covered by what looked to be years of grime and nicotine stains. It added character, she thought. The checkerboard floor at the top of the stairs seemed to lead her straight to her new room, which she was really thankful for, she was exhausted. 

Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, twisting the old carved crystal just enough to open it. She closed it the same way, with just enough effort for it to work, she could have sworn she saw something blue flash near her, but she doubted herself immediately. Once she plopped on the bed, her fingers dragged her phone across the sheets towards her. 

It took (Y/n) two full minutes to open her phone, not remembering her password and then not being able to type the right letters slowed her down significantly. It wouldn’t matter though, because once she turned on some quiet music, she was fast asleep.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Fandom: Return to Oz

Rating: T

Genre: Angst (with a happy ending)

Characters: The Wizard of Oz, the Gump, Tik-Tok, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, Princess Mombi, Princess Ozma, Jack Pumpkinhead, and Dorothy Gale

Warnings: Gun violence, character death, isolation, solitary confinement, dissociation, neglect, child abuse, OH GOSH THIS COVERS A LOT OF TRIGGERING TOPICS BUT IT’S ALL CANON

Description: "The last thing I remember is walkin' through the forest and hearin' a loud noise." "His Ma-jes-ty the Scare-crow locked me in here and told me to wait for you." "Well, my mother built me to scare that awful witch Mombi..." It was all only a glimpse of what they went through. Dorothy may never know the full stories, but they would not forget.

Beta Readers: @jaywings​ and also my sister!

Notes: THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH RTO FICS OUT THERE AND I MUST RESOLVE THIS IMMEDIATELY also this is a multichapter fic but it’s all complete, so you can read the whole thing under the cut!

—~~~—

Chapter 1: On a Hunting Trip

For a land as fantastical as Oz, it could be dreadfully boring sometimes. Though Oscar chalked it up to how much time he had to spend holed up in the palace, dodging probing questions and pretending to have magical powers. A great deal of his time here had been spent coming up with his dazzling effects to keep the Ozians (and the Witches) wowed (and keeping... other meddling Ozians out of the Emerald City), but goodness knew he could use some leisure time.

So that was what he was out doing now, tramping through a nearby forest with a rifle on his shoulder. He'd bartered it off a local Emerald Citizen, who had little use of it, but who had much appreciated some delicacies from the palace kitchen.

Of course, he knew that one of his own citizens would be more than happy to give him whatever he asked for. But Oscar had elected to leave in disguise, informing his attendants that he would need some time alone in perfect silence and was not to be bothered for any reason... while he changed into a green hunter's outfit and sneaked out the window.

He'd never been much of a hunter back in America, but as a boy he'd once gone deer hunting with a friend. He recalled it being an exciting experience, trekking through the wood and tracking an animal to bring home for supper. Though in the end it had been his friend to do the deed, for at the last minute his will had failed him, and he could not bring himself to shoot the beast.

You've too soft a heart to kill a hart, Pinhead! his friend had teased, much to his embarrassment.

"A hart, maybe," Oscar muttered, "but wait till I bring back a magical beast from this country!"

It wasn't until he'd spoken those words that he realized he had no idea what sort of monsters lurked in these woods. He'd heard talk of terrible lions here, and even enormous beasts with the heads of tigers and bodies of bears--kalidahs, they called them. What if he met one of those monsters, rather than a beast of prey?

Crunch, crunch.

Swallowing a yelp, Oscar spun around, pointing his rifle this and that way, eyes straining to see what sort of creature was lurking in the shadows of the forest. What had he gotten himself into? What hellish monster was treading through the fallen leaves of the forest bed?

Crunch, crunch.

The sound was closer, and Oscar stood stock still. But the sound drew no farther than that, and he risked to creep closer, tip-toeing through the undergrowth. In the stillness, he could hear the soft breathing of a being much larger than himself, and held his breath as he poked his head around a tree trunk.

There was a clearing ahead, and within it, a pond of crystal blue-green water (so he must be closer to Munchkin country right now). And before the water stood an enormous beast, albeit not one quite as frightening as he expected.

It was tall and broad, almost reminding him of an ox, but its legs were longer, and its head looked to be more like an elk. Bizarrely, its tail consisted of a great deal of feathers like a rooster, and its entire body was green.

Stooping down over the water, the beast kept its mouth near the surface, but it did not drink. Rather, it seemed to be regarding its own reflection in the water. It hadn't seen him at all.

Some of the tension eased from Oscar's body as he watched this strange creature. If it hadn't been for the feathers and green complexion, he would have entirely mistaken it for an American animal. And while its size was intimidating, it was clearly not a predator, as far as he could tell. (But then, Oz was a strange country.) He very nearly turned and left before he remembered why he'd come here in the first place.

It had only been to alleviate boredom, not out of a true desire to hunt, but it seemed to be a waste to come out all this way to return back empty-handed. At the same time, what would he even do with a beast like this? It wasn't as though he needed food, when his own palace was well-stocked. Perhaps its fur would be valuable? But then... for what? No one had need of any riches in this place. Perhaps he could use it for a--

Crunch crunch crunch crunch--snap.

Something was rapidly approaching him, and fear bolted up his spine, causing him to raise his rifle. Simultaneously, the beast raised its head, ears perked, and Oscar had no time to think.

BANG!

The creature stumbled backward, but whatever was behind him had quickened its pace. Oscar spun around, aiming his rifle, and a human-sized shape jumped back.

"Woah, there! Woah!" the woman cried, holding up her hands. "Watch where you're pointin' that thing! I was just wonderin' what you were doing out here."

"Ah," Oscar breathed, lowering the gun. "Sorry, ma'am, you startled me."

"Bad thing to be startled when carrying one of those," she said, gesturing at the weapon. "You could've hurt someone or--"

She froze, staring at something over his shoulder, and without another word ran past him.

"Now see here--" Oscar turned to follow her, but stopped.

The creature he'd seen earlier was now lying still on the forest floor, and the woman was kneeling next to it. "You've... you've killed it!"

The sight sent a tremor up his spine as he realized what he'd done, but he couldn't balk now.

"Well, yes," Oscar said, shrugging widely as he stepped closer. "Do you think I wear this hunter garb and carry this rifle for fun?"

Running a hand through the beast's mane, she glared at him accusingly. "What would you hunt a gump for?"

For a moment he thought the woman was insulting him until he realized that must be the name of the creature. Thinking quickly, he pointed at the gump's lifeless body. "I'll have you know, ma'am, that a gump possesses many important magical properties!"

"You needn't kill it, then!" the woman cried. "If you should need its magic, you need only ask it for help."

...Oh, right. Ozian beasts could talk.

Shaking himself, Oscar stood his ground. "Ah, but you see, much of a gump's magic is only usable when it is dead. I had planned to bring it to the Wizard, but I suppose if you don't want him to do anything about the Wicked Witches--"

The woman's face had gone several shades paler, and she stood upright. "No, of course! I'm sorry, sir, I-I didn't..."

He stepped closer, examining the fallen gump before grabbing one of its legs. "Well, don't just sit there. Help me get this beast back to the city! The Wizard is quite a busy man, but I'm sure he'd forgive your interruption if you gave me a hand."

"Yes, of course!"

The woman took the gump's other hoof in her arms, and the two struggled to lift both appendages up over their shoulders as they hauled the beast's carcass back through the forest. All the while, Oscar tried to hide his relief that his bluff had actually worked.

But then, of course it had. These simpletons believed anything they were told if you spoke with authority. They weren't too far off from Americans, in that regard.

As they walked, the woman stared down at the gump's hoof, feeling it with her free hand. "I'm sorry," she mumbled again. "I hadn't known..."

"Now you do," Oscar said, still staring ahead. "I tell you, this beast will be more useful to this country in death than it ever was in life."

Chapter 2: On a Mission

Every so often, someone stopped screaming.

The sound, or increasing lack of it, did not alarm Tik-Tok. Nothing did, nor could it--not even the frightened Emerald Citizens rushing past him or looking for a place to hide--for he was a machine, and was not capable of emotions such as panic or fear.

Nevertheless, the change informed him that he needed to be faster, as he marched through the city, past the statues of people dancing, playing, reading--statues that had not been statues a mere ten minutes ago.

The ground shifted beneath his feet, and Tik-Tok bent down to see a grotesque figure claw out of the stones beneath him. At least, that's what he had assumed at first, only to quickly realize (for his think-works were fully wound) that it had not clawed out of the rock at all--it was the rock. It opened its mouth, snarling at him, and he merely swung his body to the side, striking with a closed fist. One of the creature's fangs chipped off, and it sank back into itself with a defeated howl.

More snarling joined the increasingly-quieting screams, and there was suddenly a great crack.

Tipping his body back, Tik-Tok spotted two more of the rock creatures atop an arch, ripping a massive emerald from the keystone of it. They, along with the gem, merged with the stone pillars again just as the arch crumbled.

"Tik-Tok!" a metallic voice cried, not much farther away. A familiar roar cried out with it.

He moved his feet as fast as his gears would allow, passing the destroyed arch and around another corner, where the Tin Woodsman and Cowardly Lion were facing two more of the rock creatures. While the Emperor of the Winkies was not a machine as Tik-Tok was, he moved much like one, swinging his axe in swift, strong arcs, yet unable to hit the monster before him.

The sight of the Tin Man using his axe in such a way might have startled Tik-Tok, had he been capable of such an emotion.

"These creatures are the ones turning everyone to stone!" the Tin Man shouted, sparing a quick glance at Tik-Tok as he continued to fight. He raised his axe to deliver what may have been a killing blow. "You must stop them befo--"

The creature reached out.

And the Tin Man, in a mere instant, became a stone man, unmoving and still as the rest of the statues.

There was a slight hiccup in Tik-Tok's gears that prevented him from acting immediately. At the same moment, the Cowardly Lion let out a mournful yowl and raised his paw to swing at the creature before him.

The rock creature touched him, and the lion became a lifeless stone, his great paw still raised in the air.

Remembering his speech-works, Tik-Tok took a step forward, stomping one foot against the ground. "Stop this," he demanded, and the rock creatures turned to him. "You will no long-er hurt an-y more of the peo-ple here."

Growling, both creatures sank into the ground, only to emerge directly in front of Tik-Tok, both of them reaching out with their talons. The stone claws clinked harmlessly against Tik-Tok's copper casing, and he spun his body, striking them both in their heads. With another howl the monsters retreated, melting back into the stone beneath them. Now that they were gone, Tik-Tok could see the stone statues that had once been the Emperor of the Winkies and the King of the Forest.

"Everyone, I think I've found a way to--oh--"

Scrambling steps skidded to a halt somewhere behind him. He could hear these softer sounds, he realized, for the screams had grown more distant. Turning his top half, he saw the Scarecrow standing behind him, his painted gaze turning from one statue to the other.

"I-I'm... I'm too late..." the Scarecrow said, his tall frame sagging.

"Your Ma-jest-y." Tik-Tok clunked a hand against his helmet in a salute. "I am at your ser-vice."

Shaking himself, the Scarecrow stumbled up to him, but his smile did not return--an unusual sight for the ruler. "Right! Tik-Tok, I've found a way to contact Dorothy."

"Dor-o-thy Gale from Kan-sas?" Tik-Tok blinked, adjusting his vision as the King of Oz neared him. He'd heard of this Dorothy and how powerful she was, but his think-works could not work out how a small human girl could be strong enough to destroy not one, but two witches.

"The very same!" The Scarecrow's smile returned, if only for a moment. "But we must hurry!"

"Hur-ry to where--?" Tik-Tok began, but the Scarecrow was already pushing him somewhere.

"It might be too late for me now," the Scarecrow went on. "They're turning everything living to stone, but they don't want to do that to me. I think it means they want me for something..." His straw rustled. "I don't know what. But I do know they can't hurt you."

"That is cor-rect. I am not a-live, and ne-ver will be."

"But you can wind down," the Scarecrow added seriously. "And when you do, they can harm you. I need to keep you safe."

Disloyalty was not a command found in Tik-Tok's gears, but he couldn't help but protest: "But I am the Roy-al Ar-my of Oz. It is I who must pro-tect you, Your Ma-je-sty."

"Not right now." The Scarecrow guided him down a narrow alley and stuck a hand into his jacket, fishing for something in his body. "As Ruler of Oz, I command you to turn your protection to Dorothy once she gets here. She'll know how to help us! She's done it before."

A strange request, but Tik-Tok could not argue. "When is she to ar-rive?"

For a moment the Scarecrow faltered, but only a moment as they stopped at the end of the alley. He retrieved a key from within the straw of his body, and stared down at it. "I don't know."

A threatening rumble of stones echoed in the distance behind them, followed by another chorus of screams, and quickly he stuck the key into a hole in the wall. In a moment, the wall swung open, and the Scarecrow urged Tik-Tok inside.

Tik-Tok did as he was instructed, marching into the room and observing it. There was nothing there, however, but dusty walls and a dustier circular window that faint light shone through.

The Scarecrow stooped down, placing a cotton-stuffed hand on Tik-Tok's chest plate. "Stay here, and wait for Dorothy."

The polished gems of Tik-Tok's green eyes stared into the painted blue eyes of the Scarecrow. Though both were man-made, the Scarecrow's face was wrinkled and worn with worry... and an unspoken apology.

"Stay here," he repeated, and hurried out of the room. With a great scraping and a slam, the door shut behind him. The key was pulled from the lock, and through it, Tik-Tok could see the Scarecrow stumbling away.

For lack of anything else to do--other than conserve his gears--Tik-Tok stood perfectly still in the middle of the room.

Echoes of stone crumbling, unfamiliar creatures snarling, and rocks shifting filled the air outside, and the screams were finally silent.

---

"Your Ma-jest-y!"

Tik-Tok's voice echoed slightly in the tiny chamber, but it sounded quite loud compared to the utter silence outside.

Occasionally he could hear squeaks of wheels, and even rarer occasions he could hear the screech of a Wheeler. What they were doing in the Emerald City, he wasn't sure, but his think-works were sure enough that the fact that they had not been turned to stone was not a positive one.

But in the moments he could no longer hear them, he raised his voice:

"Your Ma-jest-y! I be-lieve that some-thing is wrong!"

And he did--something was wrong.

Several days and nights had passed since the Emerald Citizens had turned to stone, judging by the light from the solitary, circular window in the cell. It had been eight days and nights, to be exact, and Tik-Tok had remained still the entire time, hardly willing himself to think other than to observe the time passing. After all, the Scarecrow had commanded that he wait until Dorothy arrived, and he would not want her to have to wind him up too much so shortly after meeting.

But now that it had been over a week...

Tik-Tok could not worry, but he could be aware that things were not going as planned. The Scarecrow had not been sure how long it would take for Dorothy to arrive, but surely he had not expected him to wait this long. He would have said so, if that were the case. While the Scarecrow lacked perfectly-functioning mechanical brains, he did have wonderful brains given to him by the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. He was the second-best thinker in Oz, next to Tik-Tok himself.

"Your Ma-jest-y!" Tik-Tok called again. "You must o-pen the door!"

He had tried on his own, but there was no knob--seemingly no way to open the door from within. He had pushed, but it would not give, and Tik-Tok opted to preserve his action.

"I be-lieve I can find this Dor-o-thy on my own, if you o-pen the door!"

Dorothy Gale was in Kansas. And he knew where Kansas was--it was not in Oz. He would have to cross the Deadly Desert, which he was perfectly capable of doing, for its deadly sands could not turn his unliving copper into sand.

"Help me, Your Ma-jest-y, please! Come bac--"

Tic-tic-clunk.

One of the three keys on Tik-Tok's body ceased turning, and his voice-works ceased functioning.

Tik-Tok's voice joined the silence around him.

---

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

Five paces toward the door.

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

Five paces back.

It had been thirty-three days--just over a month since the Scarecrow had left him here.

Alongside the squeaks and cackles of the Wheelers outside, Tik-Tok could occasionally hear the distant sound of a musical instrument--a mandolin. It was not an instrument that could be played by the Wheelers, but to whom it belonged, he could not say, for he could not speak.

But even then, there was still the occasional silence, usually at night. It was then he chose to fill the silence with his pacing, his great feet stomping into the ground beneath him. He did this not because he missed the usual cheerful noise of the Emerald City, for he could not miss anything, but to keep his gears from rusting and keep the dust out. Even though each step he took wound his action down slightly more, it would at least prevent him from locking up entirely, even if he should be wound up.

He hoped Dorothy would be here soon.

But at this point, he was no longer sure what "soon" was. A month ago, he had estimated that she would arrive within days, if not hours, and that the matter would be resolved quickly. Now, however...

The Scarecrow had indeed admitted that he hadn't known when Dorothy would arrive. But surely, surely he would have been wise enough to send for her quickly, or to ask her to arrive swiftly.

Tik-Tok paused.

They're turning everything living to stone, but they don't want to do that to me. I think it means they want me for something...

...If he'd asked her at all.

His think-works must have gotten dust into them--he had not once considered that the Scarecrow could have been captured before he was able to summon Dorothy. If that were the case, then what was he to do?

He could not continue to wait for her--he must try to open the door on his own.

Tik-Tok turned himself around to face the door, and took one step closer.

Tic-tic-clunk.

And now he could not move, except to turn his head and blink. The rest of his body remained as still as the statues outside.

---

Ninety-two sunrises. Ninety-three sunsets.

He had watched the sun rise and set through the window. He had heard the Wheelers shriek to each other every day, and heard them racing throughout the town.

Every so often he allowed himself to blink to clear the dust from his eyes, so he could continue to observe the passage of time.

Sometimes he heard voices--not the ones of Wheelers. Sometimes it was a soft-spoken voice he'd never heard before, other times a harsher, snarling one that had a great wickedness to it. Other times he would hear familiar voices, ones he'd heard around the city before. He would wonder, in those moments, if things were going back to normal, if someone would open the door, if he would be wound up soon, but then he wouldn't hear the voice again for some time.

---

Ninety-nine sunrises. Ninety-eight sunsets.

...No, one hundred. One hundred sunsets, for he'd been let in here during the day.

He allowed his head a short shake--he had to keep track of time. He had to watch the light.

At one point he heard a soft, gravelly voice within the city, followed by a short discussion that he could not make out, for the Wheelers laughed and howled all the while. Still he strained his aural gears--linked to his think-works--to try to make out anything that would be helpful.

"...has not escaped..."

"...no sign of anything..."

"...has not spoken--"

There was a great crash, followed by shrieks of laughter from the Wheelers, and another voice shouting at them.

Who was it who had not escaped? Had they been discussing him? Or perhaps the Scarecrow? Or... had they captured...

...someone...

...there was someone he was waiting for. What was her name?

No, it didn't matter. Forcibly he slowed his think-works, only allowing them to sense the change of day and night.

---

One hundred and twenty-one sunrises. One hundred and twenty-twenty sunsets.

The room was very dusty, and he could no longer turn his head. He blinked again to clear his vision.

There was shrieking outside, but he couldn't remember why. He almost raised his voice to demand who they were, but he had no voice to do such.

But he was smart. He understood things. He was a machine. He knew why he was here.

He was here to wait. But to wait for what? He couldn't remember.

What was he counting for?

---

One hundred two hundred five hundred-ed-ed two.

Scarecrows and Wheelers, rocks and statues, girls and ladies and rooms.

A scream outside! He could not scream. Where was outside? Where was he? Was it light or dark?

What is light for anyway? He forgot. His eyes could not open and he could not see. What did he have to see? Who knew?

Statues and stones, silence and screams.

Never never never never never coming back.

Taken here, went away, left forever and ever.

Ever, ever, ever, turn turn turn, wind wind wind.

Tick-tick-tick.

Tic... tic...

Clunk.

Chapter 3: On a Whim

"...peaugh!"

"Oh! Don't yell at me like that, please! I'm not deaf."

He paused, taking a moment to consider the fact that he existed.

There he stood in a dusty, dull room, with walls and windows and other things that seemed to be full of... holes, as though they were missing something. He wasn't sure what. In fact, he didn't quite know what he was, other than that he was taller than everyone else around him. Everyone else, that is, being... a very angry-looking woman in a very pointy dress, and a much shorter girl, a little over half his own height. The former was holding a tin can of a sort with a label that he couldn't read, and she stared down at, her rage giving way to amazement.

"It... it worked!" she cried, still far too loud for his own ears. (Did he have ears?) "It worked! Hah, that magician didn't fool me after all!"

"You're still yelling!" Wincing away from her, he suddenly felt his balance shift, and he began to topple. "W-woah...!"

Quickly the shorter girl stepped forward, catching him before he crashed. "Be careful," she said, her voice wonderfully soft and far more pleasant than the other person's. "I'm afraid I didn't build you to move, since I didn't know you would be... alive, later." She set him back upright, bracing him back against the wall he'd been standing against moments ago.

"You made me?" he repeated, holding one wooden hand against her shoulder until he was certain he was steady. "How did you do that?"

"I just put some wood and a pumpkin together, and dressed you." The girl stole a glance at the older woman, who was muttering to herself as she looked over the can. "And then I stood you here, against the wall."

He tipped his head, which, it seemed, was quite large. "What for?"

The girl leaned closer, lowering her voice. "To scare the witch, there, Mombi." She looked pointedly at the woman and then back at him. "I stood you in a place here, where you would meet Mombi face-to-face. She was scared... but then she was angry. She nearly destroyed you with a stick."

Shuddering, he cast another fearful glance at Mombi, who was hurrying away. He wasn't entirely sure what "destroyed" meant, but he didn't like the sound of it. "Sh-she did?"

"Yes, but then she decided to test that Powder of Life on you. She sprinkled it on, and... you came to life."

"I'm very glad for that," he remarked. "I quite like being alive."

The girl smiled up at him, and he decided he quite liked that, too. "I like your being alive, as well."

"We're agreed, then!" He tipped his head another way. "Do you... have a name?"

"Ozma," she said quickly, and stole another glance in the direction that Mombi had walked off to. "But that's not important."

"Do I have a name?"

At that, Ozma looked down, her face turning a slightly pink shade. "Yes... Jack. Jack Pumpkinhead. I might have given you a better name, if I'd known..."

"Jack Pumpkinhead," he repeated, then nodded. "Yes, I like that. And... you made me?"

"Yes I did, Jack."

"Does that make you my mom?"

Ozma took a step back, as though caught off-balance, as he had been before, and he held out a hand to steady her. But she smiled, putting her hand over his. "I suppose so. You may call me 'Mom' if you wish."

Though uncertain why, he felt the name brought a great deal of comfort to him, and it pleased him to say it. "Okay, Mom."

"You! What are you doing?" an unfamiliar voice snapped.

Both Jack and Ozma turned to face the new person, and Jack did so quickly enough to throw him off-balance once again, so his mother had to grab hold of him to keep him upright. The new person was another woman, who wore a strikingly similar dress to the one the witch had worn moments ago. If he didn't know better (which, he didn’t know much), Jack would think it was the very same dress.

"I was only talking with Jack, Mombi," Ozma replied, and Jack looked down at her in surprise.

"Mombi? I thought you said that other woman was Mombi."

"She is, but she has different heads. She's wearing head twenty-two right now." Ozma paused. "Her original is..."

"Head thirty-one," Mombi snapped quickly. "And just what do you think--"

"Where does one acquire different heads?" Jack interrupted, not keen on listening to Mombi's grating voice.

At that, Ozma gently pulled him away from the wall, helping him walk across the dusty floor. Walking was a new activity, and he found it did not come naturally to him, his long, thin legs wobbling all the while, but his mother kept him steady as she brought him to the window. Outside was a desolate gray place, with ruined buildings and walls and statues all about. In one spot, he could see a group of statues dancing, but without heads. "See there," his mother said, pointing at the group. "That's where she got them. Some of them, anyway."

Jack stared down at the statues, not fully understanding, but nodded nonetheless. "What a lot I'm learning today!"

"Enough of this!" Mombi snarled, suddenly between them. "What's the meaning of this? You're not seriously growing attached to this stupid pumpkinhead you made, are you?"

"I should hope so," Jack protested before his mother could reply. "She's my mom, after all."

"She's your--?!" Mombi looked from Jack to Ozma a few times before settling a glare on Ozma. "No, I won't allow it."

Jack stiffened. "What? Won't allow what?"

"It won't hurt anything," Ozma protested quickly, taking a step closer to Jack. "I can watch over him, and--"

"I told you you were never to talk to others like that!" Mombi snarled, and grabbed Ozma by the wrist.

"L-let her go!" Jack cried in protest, reaching out to pull Ozma away.

Mombi yanked her out of his reach, but otherwise ignored him, glaring down at the girl. "You know what I told you. Never speak to another person, never communicate with them--you are never to make yourself known to another person, ever. Not even your name!"

Had Jack not been so frightened in that moment, he would have thought it strange that his mother had, indeed, told him her name.

"Let me go!" Ozma shouted, pulling herself against Mombi, but the witch only growled at her, tugging her away and hurrying down the hall.

"Wait, no, Mom!" Jack cried. Shakily he moved to follow them, but without his mom's support, his body toppled and crashed to the floor with a great wooden clatter. No pain came with it--though he wasn't entirely sure what pain should feel like to begin with--but he did feel his wooden joints start to jostle loose. He tried to move his limbs in a way to crawl after them, but only succeeded in scrambling uselessly on the dusty floor.

"I'll be all right, Jack!" Ozma called out to him as Mombi carried her down a corner and out of sight. "I'll get us help!"

"You most certainly will not!" Mombi growled, her voice reaching a rather terrifyingly low pitch. Before Ozma could say anything in reply, there was an explosively loud KRACK-OW that rang throughout the palace, and within Jack's hollow head. Something about the sound filled him with terror, and he threw his hands over his eyes, wailing.

Only moments later everything was still, and Mombi gave a satisfied humph before her footsteps came back down the hallway. Jack shakily raised his head, only for his wooden body to seize up in fear. "Wh-where's Mom?"

Mombi did not answer, only marching up to him and regarding him with an expression he could not read (or see, for from his current angle he could only see the train of her dress, and it was hard to tip his head up further).

"Excuse me, Miss Mombi," he said, trying to push himself upright, "Where is my mom? That noise was very loud, and I-I'm worried about her."

Without a word, Mombi suddenly stooped down, grabbed Jack's left wrist much in the way she had Ozma's, and yanked.

"Oh!' Jack cried, immediately hating the pull on his arm, and even more the way it made his legs drag. He fought to put his feet beneath him, but Mombi did not wait, dragging him in the opposite direction she'd taken Ozma. "W-wait! I'm not standing yet!" He scrambled his legs, fighting to right himself, but Mombi was moving too quickly for him to do so. Then, realizing what direction they were taking, he fought all the more to get to his feet. "W-we're going the wrong way! This isn't where you took my mom!"

Still Mombi remained silent, hauling him down the hallway and finally toward a great spiraling stairwell, which she wasted no time in storming up, taking no mind for the way Jack's feet kicked and dragged behind them.

"Wait, no! P-please, let me get to my f-feet!" he whimpered. When she still would not answer, he looked back down the stairs. "I-I miss my mom. She liked answering my questions. C-could you please take me back to her?"

At one point Jack's right foot caught badly on a step, momentarily trapping him and causing Mombi to stumble. She braced herself against the wall before she fell, and turned to glare at him.

Jack didn't understand why she was so angry, but he took the opportunity to finally get his feet beneath him. His right leg, however, felt wrong--it was loose at the knee joint, and that worried him. "Miss Mombi, when we get to the top of this place, c-could you please bring my mom back, so she can--"

And again Mombi resumed mounting the steps, barely giving Jack time to match her pace. To his alarm, he found he couldn't, for her body was not built as awkwardly as his was, and once again his legs gave way beneath him.

While Jack had decided he did not much like shouting, he couldn't help himself: "PLEASE!" he cried over the clatter of his legs banging against the stairs. "I'm going to come apart!"

But at that moment, his legs finally stopped banging against things, for they had reached the top of the stairs. Here Mombi paused again, and Jack was finally able to get his legs beneath him, though his right one was wobbling terribly. "A-are we done moving around, Miss Mombi?" he stammered.

Now Mombi threw the door open, and once again began dragging him, though he fought to walk along with her, even as he felt the ropes that held his right leg together loosen further. He barely had time to look about the room around him, which was full of a lot of very, very dusty things. Mombi dragged him a short distance, then with a great amount of force, threw him into a corner.

Jack cried out as his wooden back slammed against an old sofa, jarring his whole frame terribly and nearly knocking his head off. Dazed, he reached up to touch his head, only to find that his left hand was missing--it had fallen off entirely, lying on the ground next to him. Turning his head, he found the same fate had befallen his right leg, which was lying a short distance from his body. "Wh-what was that for?" he whimpered. "You haven't told me why you're so angry with me, much less said anythi--"

In a moment Mombi was storming toward him, her eyes wide with anger, and at once he wished he hadn't spoken at all. "Shut up, you worthless pile of firewood!" she snarled, leaning down into his face. "You existed only so I could test my Powder of Life on you, and nothing more, and I can very well take that life away."

"NO!" he wailed, kicking his remaining leg to push himself further backwards. "Please don't do that!"

She pointed a finger in his face, and he stilled. "When I come up here again," she said lowly, "I'll chop up your stupid smiling head and make a pie of it, assuming it doesn't spoil first, and that will be that for you."

With that, she spun around and left the room, pausing only to give him one last glare before shutting the door.

Jack remained very still for some time, until an irritating clattering noise made him realize he was trembling.

"Th-this... has been quite an existence," he finally said, once he was quite sure Mombi could not hear him. "I wish I knew what I've done wrong..."

Remembering what the witch had told him, he decided that while he wasn't quite sure what a pie was, he would very much like to leave here before Mombi returned to show him. Bracing his hand against the floor, he tried to raise himself up, only to remember that he could not stand on one leg. He would have to tie it back on, if he could.

He tried to reach for the detached leg, and realized another problem--one of his hands was missing, and since it wasn't attached, he could not move it. He strained to reach for it for several minutes, but it occurred to him he had no way of tying it back on. While he was quite sure he could figure out how tying things worked (he could see the method his mother had used when he observed his own joints), he could not do it with only one hand. He needed use of both limbs in order to tie his missing limb back together.

As it was, he could only sit in that corner, his back against a sofa, his missing parts just barely out of reach.

"...I miss my mom," he said quietly, bowing his head.

She had told him that she would get help, so maybe she would be here later. He hoped she would... he did not like his body being broken like this, and not being able to move, and he wasn't sure when Mombi would come back.

And so he waited, sitting there in the stillness of the dusty room. Part of him wanted to call for Ozma, for he wasn't certain she knew where he was... if she was anywhere. (Mombi was a witch, after all, and that sound he'd heard... had she used magic on his mother? Magic was what brought him to life, but what if it could be used to take someone away, too...? What if she had become a statue, like the ones outside?) The thought, however, of Mombi hearing him kept him quiet.

But... Ozma had said she would get help. She had to. She had to.

She had to.

He kept that thought, repeating it in his mind... until he realized that it was very dark in the room, and growing darker. Something within him--the magic, he supposed, or perhaps the seeds in his head giving him basic knowledge--told him that this was night, and that the outside world alternated between the light of day and dark of night. Even so, the darkness chilled him--it was getting to the point where he could hardly see. What if Mombi came back, and he couldn't even tell?

Forgetting his fear of alerting the witch, he raised his voice again: "Mom!" he cried. "Mom, where are you?! I-it's dark here!"

But his voice only echoed slightly in the crowded room, and he heard no other sounds.

His fear left him undeterred. "Mom, have you found help yet? I-I want to get out of here!"

There was still no answer, other than a quiet wind from outside.

"Mom..." he whimpered, and finally fell silent.

Maybe his mom wasn't coming back after all.

Epilogue: On a Hope

Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock...

The thought jumped into Tik-Tok's head, in the midst of the blankness of non-functionality:

How long has it been now?

He'd lost track of time, he realized. This was not good--something had clearly gone wrong with his mechanisms. He tried to open his eyes, but his lids were still too heavy.

"Huh. I wonder what he's thinkin' about."

The unfamiliar voice echoed in the room, but with his eyes still firmly shut, he could not tell whom it belonged to.

"I'll wind up his speech," came a softer voice, "and maybe he can tell us."

Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock...

His head turned slightly, suddenly able to, and his eyelids finally lifted.

"Maybe he can tell us what happened to the Emerald City."

Blinking once, twice, to clear the dust from his emerald eyes, Tik-Tok began to stammer as his speech-works came back to him: "I--you--uh--come back--Your Ma--"

A young girl with dark hair in twin braids stood before him, regarding him with awe.

"...Good mor-ning, lit-tle girl."

---

It had been a long time--Jack couldn't be sure how long, though, since he'd stopped counting. The thought of how many days it had been since he'd last seen his mother only made him...

He put his hand over his chest, where he felt the sadness the most, and wondered if that was what pain was.

He only had a little dust on him, though--not nearly as much as the things all around him. The giant head above him, the plants, the portraits, and all the other things--he'd taken the time to look at them all, for lack of anything else to do. He'd stopped calling for his mom, too--it felt pointless.

And then the door opened.

At once he threw himself back, his head hitting the couch behind him. He scrambled with his leg, at first, and then decided staying still was better, staying quiet was better. If Mombi couldn't hear him, maybe she would forget about him.

But Mombi didn't come into the room. Instead he heard soft footsteps, as well as two voices. One was harsh and grating... but the other was... soft. Soft and... comforting.

Just before him, he could see a young girl staring at some portraits on the wall. A young girl... that was about half his height.

"...Mom?"

---

"...peaugh!"

"Peaugh?!"

"That's it!"

He blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings. Why wasn't it daytime? And... this didn't look like the forest. It looked... nothing like the forest. That was odd.

There were also a couple other people around him, both of them quite excited. One was a tall man that he was pretty sure wasn't a normal Ozian, and the other was a little girl.

"What's going on?" he asked, trying to turn his head and finding it oddly difficult, so he swiveled his ears instead. "Where am I?"

"Getting out of here, I hope!" the tall man exclaimed.

"Jack's right," the girl replied. "We're in the palace, but we need to get out of here."

That didn't answer much.

Feeling the need to stretch his limbs, he did so, only to find them... a great deal shorter than they should be. And more numerous. He didn't recall having more than four feet in anything other than height.

Normally he quite liked looking at his reflection, but at the moment, he felt grateful that there was no pond nearby.

The girl was suddenly in front of him, looking him in the eyes. "You're gonna help us escape, okay?"

While not in pain, he felt... out of sorts. Even so, there was something about this girl that he felt drawn to... not that he was in any position to argue, anyway.

"Okay, I guess so."

The girl smiled, and he felt a bit better.

He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but whatever happened, he was pretty sure he could trust this strange girl.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Time of Realisation

Happy New Year, everyone! May 2021 be everything you ever wanted. Since I just finished writing for part 8 of this series, I wanted to post this one a bit earlier than the usual Fridays as a New Year’s Treat. So here we go! Part 7 of the ‘Successors of the Future’ is here. 

(My Premium Grammarly account disappeared all of the sudden so please excuse any stupid grammatical or spelling errors you might find. I’ve edited this chapter thrice now and it should be ok??) 

Before we start, we must do our ritual and give thanks to the ever amazing @tri3tri for letting us all expand on her Draconia Family series. Hope you’ll have a great year as well, Tri-senpai! 

-

“To be honest with you Ren, I don’t remember much about Sebek. Just his voice. I still remember how loud his shouts were.” 

“Eh, don’t sweat it too much. Take it as a blessing.” 

Renata and Sherrie are in her room. The underwater aesthetic of Octavinelle is so beautiful to take in from the inside. It almost makes Renata wish that she’s a mermaid. Or a killer whale type of mermaid. Now that is a badass merfolk. 

Just like Renata, Sherrie was given a room all to herself instead of sharing it with a dorm member due to her gender. 

And her little sister did not waste time transforming her room just like her old one back at their home. Already her gaming computer has been set up on her study table, cosmetic sets of well-known brands - Nyx, My Pretty Zombie, and Fenty Beauty - are organised neatly on her shelves beside the standard textbooks and stationeries. One of the open drawers beside her cupboard full of her school uniforms as well as her Pastel Goth clothes display tins of green teas and stacks of instant foods. 

Clearly, Sherrie has made herself right at home in Octavinelle. And less than a week too! 

Actually, how much luggage did Sherrie brought from their home? 

After the Entrance Ceremony, Renata waited two days for Sherrie to acclimate herself to Night Raven College, letting her talk to some of her dorm members, get a feel on the teachers before slipping into her bedroom to catch up. It was a mild surprise to see the state of her room after her little sister told her to plant her ass on the bed while she prepared a pot of hot green tea for them. 

While she’s busy with the kettle, Renata wasted no time to explain what Ace told her during Winter’s Break when she inquired about Sebek. It was good to know that due to the dense magic in the Country of Thorns, technology is almost non-existent in the land due to magical interference. It also helps that despite being in the First-Year Forever group chat, Sebek barely checks his phone at all. Over time, Ace and the rest of their group forgot that Sebek is even in the group chat! 

“Still, it’s good to know that Mama’s friends drifted away from Sebek over the years. That’ll help us a lot in the long run.” Sherrie commented after Renata wraps up her report. She handed a cup of tea to Renata and lean against her study table, facing the bed where her older sister is cooling her hot tea by channeling ice magic onto her fingertips. “What about the student body here? What are they like?” 

“Everyone walks around as if they got a twelve-inch dick.” Renata’s sarcasm is as thick as the kelp forest outside of Sherrie’s bedroom window. 

Sherrie couldn’t help but laugh at her deadpan tone; she had to put her cup of tea on the table before it spilled everywhere. “That bad, huh?” She giggles helplessly, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes. 

Renata was about to roll her eyes but stop herself and ponders. Despite their flaws, Hoyle and Rex are good friends. Hell, even Bakari vibes with her. Not quite friendly, but he hasn’t yet turned her away when she scurries over to intrude herself in whatever he’s currently doing. That, and she secretly enjoys finding little treats and snacks in her backpack after hanging out with him. “Ok, some of them aren’t so bad once you can get past their ego. Remind me to introduce Hoyle and Rex to you soon.” 

Sherrie raises an eyebrow. “And what about that one guy who keeps giving you food?”  

“You’ll see him around.” 

“...Right.” Sherrie eyed her older sister with a knowing look when Renata nonchalantly shrugs. She’ll get back to that little topic later. “Have you prepare the little surprise for Mama?” 

“Yup.” Renata affirmed and took a sip of her tea. She lets out a happy, little sigh when warmth travels across her body. “We’ll do it this weekend. That’s the only time that they’re free.” 

The two talk a little more until Renata had to leave when curfew looms. The passing Octavinelle students gave her a side-eye for a few seconds but otherwise, no one batted an eye at seeing a Diasomnia student walking about their dorms. The whole school is aware that Renata and Sherrie are siblings by now. Renata wonders if her sister will receive the same cold politeness because of their horns. 

Meanwhile, as Renata made her way to her own dorm, Sherrie is scrutinising the lock on her door with a frown. The previous used cups and teapot are all washed up and the lights are dim slightly since she’s planning to hit the bed right after she figures out how to secure her room thoroughly. There are just too many sensitive and important information about their family and plans against their father kept here. She straightens her back and tosses a glance at the computer and tablet lying on the table beside it. Sherrie had made sure to cultivate a habit of not storing the complete set of important materials in a single device - one can never be too careful after all. Especially when there’s a dorm here dedicate to Technomages. Hmm... perhaps she should befriend one of the students of Ignihyde to help her with the security of her electronic devices? 

Though there’s still an issue with the simple lock of her door. Anyone can just force it open with a pick. Sherrie made a mental note to consult with her sister for some sort of spell that can solve this problem. 

And with that, she quickly changes into a simple loose shirt and a pair of shorts before slipping under the duvet and turns in for the night. 

Life as a halfling and an Octavinelle student quickly proves to be unlike anything Sherrie has ever experience. 

Renata offhandedly advises her to shrug it off when her dorm members stare at her horns a little too long; they’ll get used to her soon enough. Sherrie cursed under her breath when her sister left and wondered if she could attend her classes virtually instead, but when she brought that up to her Dorm Leader, the shark merman raised an eyebrow and simply asked her if she’s an Octavinelle student or Ignihyde’s. Needless to say, Sherrie set on digging any dirt she can find on her Dorm Leader ASAP. 

Other than the uncomfortable stares and shady Dorm Leader - Sherrie quite enjoys the scarf that comes with her uniform - as well as her dorm leader, tend to keep it to themselves. Underneath the polite offers of tutelage in classes and tours around Mostro Lounge, Sherrie can blatantly pick up the insinuation underneath those favours. 

A favour for a favour - that’s how life in Octavinelle works. Information is worth more than Madols and dealings under the table is practically the norm. 

Sherrie adapts in Night Raven College faster than Renata ever could. 

Speaking of Madols, Sherrie needed to do something about their financial situations in Twisted Wonderland. Currency exchange is not a thing here so their dollars are practically worthless. Fortunately, Octavinelle expects its dorm members to pull their weights in Mostro Lounge. By the second week she’s in Night Raven College, her Dorm Leader already distributed the First Year’s schedule of their shifts around the café. The pay might not be much but it’s a good start. 

There’s got to be a Twisted Wonderland equivalent of Youtube. She made mad revenue as a Youtuber and game streamer back home. 

Today, Sherrie is working at Mostro Lounge with several other First Year students from other dorms. Customers flooded in during lunchtime and kept her busy manning behind the bar, preparing drinks and desserts. 

“Presentation my ass...” Sherrie mumbled under her breath as she struggles to beautify the ice-cream sundae. She had to redo the whole thing when one of the staff - her Third Year senior - saw how plain her work was and taught her to make an art out of the dessert. 

She was in the midst of deciding how many cherries would be enough to make the sundae look prettier when a rich, baritone voice broke her concentration. “Has the ice-cream offend you in some way, MC/S-san?” 

Sherrie moves her face away from the towering glass to see a fellow dorm member smiling at her. How curious, his eyes are like hot, molten gold. 

“No. I was just adding some finishing touches.” Sherrie reply, her voice remained neutral. She hasn’t seen this one around before. 

Her dorm member continues to smile. It comes across as calculative instead of genuine. Renata would’ve spat fire at him already. “My, it looks wonderful. I’ll be sure to inform the customer that his sundae is prepared by your meticulous hand. I’m sure he’ll forgive you for the time he had to wait.” 

Sherrie promptly turns around to store back the cherries into the fridge to hide her smirk. This nobody came forward trying to pick a fight with her? This could be fun. “I’m more than happy to receive our customer if he has any complaint with his sundae.” 

“I’ll be sure to inform him.” He nods once and place the sundae on a tray and left the bar. Sherrie made sure to keep an eye on him after that. 

He’s tall, taller than her, and play the perfect part of a waiter with ease. As if he grew up in this sort of environment. The way how he balances two heavy laden trays of food and drinks on his palms while weaving in between tables, greeting the customers with an impeccable smile is telling. This guy mastered the art of customer service for sure. 

“Who’s the hotshot?” Sherrie asked her partner as she carefully wipes the clean glasses. Her shift partner - a Second Year manta ray merman, who was kind enough to introduce herself to her without any subtle jeer - glances at Sherrie’s line of sight, and his mouth made a small ‘o’. 

“That’s Amber Leech. He’s one of the promising First Year students we got, according to the Vice Dorm Leader. You’re more of a wild card, though. Dorm Leader still doesn’t know what to think of you.” 

Sherrie ignores that titbit about herself; she just hums. Didn’t Mama mention that she knows a Leech? “He’s good at handling the customers, I’ll give him that.” Sherrie admits, stacking the last dry glass onto the rack before her attention is capture by a server with a list of orders. Sherrie was too preoccupied with her job to scrutinised Amber any further after that.  

Later when a Scarabia student relieved her of her shift with a quick exchange of pleasantries, instead of leaving, Sherrie decided to stick around and enjoy some free food in the kitchen. As long as she stayed out of the way, no one really minded her presence. 

“Good job today, Leech-san. You can join MC/S-san in the kitchen if you’re hungry.” 

“Thank you very much. I’ll be taking up on your kind offer then.”

Sherrie paused, tilting her head up from her small tub of ice-cream to see none other but Amber Leech step into the kitchen. Their eyes met and his calculative smile greeted her. 

“Is this seat taken?” He politely asks her, gesturing to the vacant chair opposite her. The round table at the back of the kitchen is a bit small, barely enough to fit more than three people but it was far enough away from the kitchen staff so that they won’t be a bother. 

“Knock yourself out.” 

“Very well then.” 

By the time he took out a red bento from the fridge, heat it up and takes a seat near the table, Sherrie has already polished the tub of ice-cream. When Amber noticed the empty tub, he frowns. It was so sudden that Sherrie couldn’t help but defensively blurted out, “What?” 

“Is that all you having for lunch?” There’s a disapproving tone in his voice and Sherrie doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“That? It was a snack. I had my lunch before my shift.” 

For some reason, her dorm mate nodded, strangely pleased at her answer before he tucks into his lunch. By the looks of it, his bento is artfully made with a variety of colourful foods. 

The two said nothing, simply enjoying the clatter of cooking utensils, sizzling fire on the stoves and the cooks hum under their breath. Here in the back of the kitchen, the chatter of customers outside is almost muted. 

It was peaceful. So peaceful in fact, Amber Leech feels like it’s his sworn duty to shatter it. 

“I suggest consulting either Aeacus Shroud or the other students in Ignihyde’s Basic Magical Technology group as your solution. Shroud-san is the only First Year student in that group but I heard he’s the most approachable of the lot.” 

Sherrie’s heart froze. “What?”

Amber took his time to put away his now empty bento, dab the corner of his lip with a folded napkin that was on the table before replying, “For security of course.” 

His answer is vague. Purposely so as he levels a stare at Sherrie. 

“...How do you know that?” Sherrie all but demanded under her faux, indifferent voice. 

Amber dared to smile and point his eyes, no word escape his lips. 

A Unique Magic then. It has to be. Are his similar to Renata’s? 

Sherrie’s mind races, for once, trying to decipher this strange student beside her. 

And suddenly, Sherrie realises who this boy really is. The eyes were a give away.  

“Amber Leech. Jade Leech’s son, I presume?” 

-

“Mama, I’m home!”

“Welcome back, sweetie. How was cheer practice today?”

“It went really well, Mama. We nailed down the new routine without anyone falling off.” Lucien shuts the door close with his feet. He’s sweaty and still in his cheerleading uniform with a duffel bag sling over his shoulder. Seeing that his Mama is nowhere in the living room, Lucien padded into the kitchen. 

The house is, unfortunately, a lot quieter now that his sisters are off at Night Raven College. Before Sherrie left, she and he talk about how their Mama would feel lonely now. Even more so when it’s his turn. 

Lucien assured her that he’ll keep an eye on their Mama closely. 

His friends would playfully tease him that he’s such a Mama’s boy; constantly texting her of his whereabouts, what she and his sisters want from the convenience stores and Mama always make his favourite desserts more often compare to Renata’s apple pies and Sherrie’s matcha cupcakes. 

And Lucien has no shame in being spoiled by their Mama. 

However, when he steps into the kitchen to witness their Mama re-arranging the dishes in the cupboard for the second time this week, it’s time for Mama to be spoiled in return. 

Lucien can’t wait to see her reaction when they spring the surprise tonight. 

“Mama? Do you need some help with the plates?” Lucien asked instead of pointing out the fact that Mama has been restless lately. Without waiting for a reply, Lucien has already dropped his duffel bag to walk around the island counter towards her. 

“It’s alright, Lucy. I’m nearly done here anyway.” MC wave Lucien’s waiting hands away as she pushes the last stack of plates into the lower cabinet and got up. She shot him a smile but it’s wobbly. “Are you hungry, sweetheart? We still have some leftover dinner from last night that I can heat up real quick. Hang on, just give Mama a second to take it out - ”

“Mama, it’s alright. I know. It doesn’t feel the same without Ren and Cherry.” 

MC froze before she got up and smile sadly. The sight made Lucien’s heart clench painfully. “The three of you have always been close to me ever since you were born. Your Father was... many things,” MC grimace but she soldiers on. “But he would never separate your sisters away from me. I’m not sure what to do with myself now that Ren and Cherry are away...” 

Sherrie’s voice suddenly pops in Lucien’s head like how Renata enjoys busting through his door without knocking: “Mama needs a distraction. ASAP! Go, go, go!” 

Renata interjects after her: “Psst! Try something calming yet engaging. That’ll do.” 

Distraction. Right. Lucien can do that for Mama. At least until the surprise tonight. 

“Would Mama help me with my origami? I could use some help with filling up my new empty glass jar.” Lucien suggests. 

MC blink; didn’t expect Lucien to suddenly ask for an extra pair of hands with his hobby, but she took it in stride. “Uh, sure thing, honey.” 

Lucien beams like a blooming sunflower. “I’ll go shower first then. Be right back, Mama!” 

“Don’t run in the house, Lucy!” MC reminded him but lets him went upstairs with a small smile. She needs to get out of this funk. While Lucien is freshening up, might as well finish up her chores for the day. 

By the time Lucien came back down carrying an empty glass jar and a stack of colourful scented papers and they didn’t waste time to clear the dining table of the bowl of fruits and their cups so they could get to it. 

Lucien is remarkably patient. More so than MC or his older sisters - he made sure to slowly show how to fold the paper into stars to his Mama and when she’s confused, he would show her some videos online to help her. As the mother and son gradually fill up the glass jar, Lucien talks about anything and everything under the sun. How everyone in his team at school is helping him ease to the role as the captain of the cheerleading squad, how he’s getting a hang on the new subject material taught in Math class and who’s dating who in his circle of friends. 

MC hums and would give an appropriate reply in-between Lucien’s story. Typical teenage shenanigans, albeit, a lot tamer than what she went through but she’ll never get tired of listening to her children’s school life. Yes, even when Renata and Sherrie tried their best to hide whatever blunder they did at times. 

It was when Lucien threw a purple star origami into the jar that he suddenly changes the subject. “Oh yeah! By the way Mama, Ren and Cherry said that she has a surprise for you tonight!” 

“Oooh, a surprise? I wonder what your sisters are planning.” MC murmurs a bit absentmindedly, too focus on folding the papers. Her eyebrows scrunch in concentration and she would beam proudly when one star came out perfect before tossing it into the jar with a happy hum. 

Lucien is relieved. Looks like the distraction works. 

They had a simple dinner once the glass jar is filled and once the dishes are done, Lucien hurriedly ushers his Mama into the living room. On the sofa, MC watches Lucien draws the rune on the mirror, bemused at the grin on his face. 

When the rune vanishes, MC opens her mouth to greet her daughters. Her open mouth gapes and she could feel the corner of her eyes are suddenly wet when she saw the people on the other side of the mirror. 

“Ow! Deuce, you idiot! I told you not to shove me with your elbow!” 

“Who are you calling an idiot!? And quit hogging the mirror already!”

“I’m not hogging the mirror! You’re the one who keeps pushing me!” 

MC couldn’t help it. She laughs, tears now freely running down her cheeks. Lucien quietly excuses himself to fetch a box of tissue for her. 

Her laugh shuts both Ace and Deuce up. “Oh geez, what are you crying for, hah? It’s just us.” Ace said, supporting a bittersweet smile. At that moment, seeing his best friend releases the tension festering inside of him all these years. 

“We miss you, Prefect!” Deuce shouted with a sniffle, his eyes are teary as well. He hurries to wipe off the tears with his knuckle. “Miss you so, so much! I’m so glad you’re OK!” 

“Are you really though?” Ace interject, he doesn’t even bother to conceal his blatant check on MC’s body. Looking for any sign of injuries or illness. 

MC guessed that one of her daughters have told them what happened to her... 

But she refused to let thoughts regarding Malleus damper her happy mood. Not when she could finally see her best friends again. 

“I’m ok now. We’re... we’re ok.” MC honestly reply with a lightened heart. 

The three of them have grown; each of them has their own children now, at this moment, it feels as if they have been transported back to their teenage years all those years ago. 

MC realises that she’s truly no longer alone now. 

-

And we’ve reached the end of this chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed it!! MC finally meet Adeuce once more, even if it’s just through a mirror. With the three of them together again, there’s nothing they can’t do. 

Here are some titbits about Amber Leech’s background:

1. His Unique Magic is called ‘Witness of the Past’

2. His Mum is a beautiful mer Sea Lamprey (if you don’t know what a Sea Lamprey looks like, uh, prepare yourself before you google search them.) 

Speaking of Unique Magic, I’ve compiled a list of all the kids with their UMs already. Haven’t decided yet when I’ll post it, but I’m thinking of posting the names as a sort of teaser? Meh, we’ll see how that goes. 

[wiypt-writes]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 10: Shop Till You Drop

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  Instalment 10 of mine, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @ohthankevans13​ telling of Ransom’s quest to become a normal human being. This time Ransom takes on a Super Market…

Series Masterlist

“Will you stop!” You sighed, exasperatedly.

“Stop what?” Ransom frowned, tossing another box of Pop Tarts into the trolley he was pushing round the Supermarket

“Loading the trolley full of crap!”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t need it.”

“So?” he shrugged “I want it.”

You let out another groan “That’s all it ever boils down to with you isn’t it?”

“What the fuck is eating you today?” he snarked back, folding his arms across his chest. “Or is more a case of nothing has eaten you, if you get my drift?”

“God you’re a fucking…” you growled and shook your head, “frankly the thought of you going near me at the moment makes me wanna puke. I’m tired. I have back ache and my legs are sore. We came in with a list and it should have taken us twenty minutes tops but oh no, you just keep stopping for a load of shit we don’t need and its taking us twice as long and I just want to go home!”

The last word broke as you began to sob, the damned hormones flooding your system and Ransom’s eyes flew open in panic. He was used to your little outbursts thanks to his spawn growing inside of you, but this was the first time you’d had one in public.

“Y/N, stop.” He urged you, moving round the trolley towards you. He hesitated, before he opened his arms, clearly not sure if you were going to slap him or not but you didn’t have the energy. Instead you let him pull you to him, pressing your face into his sweater, breathing in his heady scent. His hands gently ran up your back as you fought for control, eventually pulling away as you looked up at him. His large hands cupped your face gently and he pressed his lips to yours, smirking a little “And you say I’m a brat?”

“Fuck off, Ransom.” You pulled away.

“Okay, okay!” he chuckled. “Look, why don’t you-“ he fished into his jeans pocket and handed you the keys to the Merc “-go wait in the car? I’ll finish up.”

“You’re going to finish getting the groceries?”

“Yeah.”

You blinked, before you shrugged “Fine, but don’t forget anything on that list or I swear to God you’ll be couched for a week.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” He plucked the list out of your hand, rolling his eyes “Just go for fucks sake.”

You glared at him once more before you turned on your heel and left him in the middle of the aisle, without so much as a look back. As you left through the exit, you took a deep breath, instantly feeling calmer and you felt a little guilty at your outburst as he hadn’t actually been doing much wrong. He had always been a pain in the ass when it came to shopping and you’d tried so hard to get him to stay at home, but he was insistent that he came to help. You should be grateful really, you knew that, he was only trying to ensure you didn’t do too much but all it resulted in was him getting on your last nerve and an emotional outburst like the one you’d just had.

True to form he’d been a complete fucking tool from the moment you set foot in the shop. Completely ignoring you and piling anything and everything he liked the look of into the trolley, even if you knew half of it would go to waste. But that was him and his damned family all over. More money than fucking sense.

Fuck it, he could deal with it. You were going to take a nap in the comfy passenger seat whilst he finished. And woe betide him try anything when you got home later on that evening, if he so much as made a single amorous advance towards you that night you’d rip his cock off.

**** Ransom watched Y/N stalk off away from him an exhaled, loudly, whilst also giving himself a mental pat on the back for being smart enough to tell her to go and wait in the car. Allowing her to rest whilst he complete the shopping was most certainly going to put him in her good books. And, if he played his cards right and even unloaded the groceries at the other end, he’d most certainly get a bit of bedroom fun later on.

Yup, Ransom Drysdale was a clever bastard.

That said, he did feel a tad guilty. He knew she’d been struggling the last few days with her back and seeing her burst into tears in the middle of Whole Foods had made him realise just how much energy she was using growing their baby. Maybe he had been a bit of a pain in the ass, but he hadn’t meant to be. He just liked what he liked and seeing as money wasn’t an issue why shouldn’t he get it?

He glanced down at the list, there wasn’t that much left on it. So, he hastily made his way around the store allowing himself only one little detour for an unlisted item- some Lavender and Camomile bath salts for Y/N which he intended to use later when he drew her a bath to help her relax- and then made his way to the check outs.

This was the bit he hated, with a passion. Unloading and then waging a war with the damned items at the other end whilst he tried to bag them as quickly as the checkout ninja scanned them and slid them down to him. However, as luck would have it, today’s ‘ninja’ was more of a ‘nan-ja’, and to his relief the coffin-dodger took her time, having to bend so close to the screen to see the items her nose might as well have been touching it. This allowed him enough time to bag everything as Y/N did- raw meats separate, then chilled, frozen, fresh and tinned. He paused, as the final bag containing the 3 bottles of his preferred wine and a 4 pack of beer felt a little strained and he pondered double bagging. But decided against it. It was only going in the back of the car from the trolley, he’d just make sure to support it underneath.

Eventually the woman, who now he studied her must have been the same age as his fucking Great-Nana Wanetta, scanned the last item which was a bar of Y/N’s favourite chocolate he’d picked up from the stand at the end of the checkout, and turned to him smiling. She read out the total and he passed his card over, looking around as she scanned it and pressed a few buttons. Finally, the ordeal was over and he took his card and receipt before making his way back outside.

Job well done, even if he did say so himself.

He pushed the trolley over the car park, stopping only to hurl abuse at some absolute moron in a Toyota who nearly took him out when he skidded round the corner, and opened the trunk to the car. He loaded the bags, took the trolley back (well, he pushed it to the spare space besides he car because fuck walking over to the Trolley Park, that’s what they paid the simpleton in the hat and hi-viz to do) and made his way to the driver’s door. He dropped in besides his girl and she turned to face him, a smile spreading across her face as he handed her the Hershey’s.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Its ok baby.” He smiled at her as she leaned over to give him a soft kiss “Cooking my boy is zapping it outta you huh?”

“Just a tad.” She shrugged “But I shouldn’t have snapped. Thank you for finishing up.”

Ransom shrugged “No big deal.” he gave he another quick kiss before he put the car in reverse and drove towards the parking lot exit, a soft smirk playing on his handsome face

Yup, he was off Santa’s Naughty List for sure.

***** “Go and put your feet up, I got this.” Ransom assured you as you made your way to the trunk to help unload the shopping.

“Sure?”

“Positive.” He nodded, his arms wrapping around you from behind, large hands sweeping over the front of your jacket, softly caressing your bump. “It won’t take me long to unload and put it all away. Then we can curl up and I’ll order us that pizza you’ve been talking about all day.”

He pressed a kiss to your neck and you bit your lip. You had to admit, that did sound like a damned fine idea. And, to be honest, he was pretty good at unpacking groceries, that was one area he was actually trained in after years of you whipping him into shape.

“Okay.” You tilted your head round to look at him, giving him a quick kiss “Can you keep the mincemeat out for tomorrow’s dinner and the rest of the meat-“

“Can go in the freezer, yeah, I know.” He stepped back, reaching for a bag “I’m not a complete moron.”

“Debatable.” You muttered, ignoring the eye-roll that came your way as you turned around. You headed to the front door, your pace slow as your baby was doing what felt like the tango in your belly. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently, and you were convinced he was reacting to Ransom’s voice, something which you’d told him the previous night making him positively beam at you with pure unadulterated love on his features, something which you were sure no one but you saw. You rubbed your belly, a soft smile on your face, telling your unborn son to quieten down a little, and you’d just unlocked the door when you heard a loud yell, followed by the smashing of glass and a string of expletives from your husband.

“Mother fucking, asshole, bastard crap bag!”

You spun round to see Ransom stood with a carrier bag in his hand, the bottom flapping as it had completely given way. Green and brown glass littered your drive way as a pool of red-wine and beer swam around his expensive chukkas. He screwed the bag up, tossing it into the trunk as he ran a hand through his hair, growling in annoyance.

“How much did you just drop all over the drive way?” you asked and he peeked up at you and grimaced.

“Eighty bucks worth. That was some quality merlot.”

“Well, maybe next time you’ll remember to double bag.” You shook your head, before you nodded to it “Make sure you clean that up. I’d hate to reverse over it and get another flat. Woe betide we have a performance like last time.”

“Oh, I dunno.” He quipped, a smirk spreading across his face “I happen to think the performance last time was pretty good. You certainly didn’t have any complaints once I got you back inside and sat on my face.”

You blinked, before you scoffed and shook your head “Do you know where the brush and dustpan is or should I draw you a map?”

“Fuck you.” He shot back, his eyes narrowed in a glare and you grinned, shrugging.

“Maybe later.” and with that you headed inside leaving him to grieve for his precious alcohol, which had been taken from him far too soon…

[deafwestnewsies]

you tell me you love her (i give you a grin)

And I'd choose our fate a million times over.

david jacobs x jack kelly (unrequited love)

read it on my ao3!

The grass crumpled beneath his boots. His shadow left a broad dent in the shade

(his body was still a marvel- when had Jack Kelly become so strong? When did Jack Kelly grow into his wimpy shoulders and snivelling ankles? When did Jack Kelly ditch his dreams of a boy to become a man?)

that towered over a lean man who was casually basking in the weak October daylight. He frowned at the sudden loss of warmth, but his eyes danced with mirth as he gazed over his former selling partner, current best friend, and long-time confidant. “Why, Jack Kelly. I thought you stood me up.”

“I’d neva, Dave,” Jack bent down in the mellow grass next to David. “They caugh’ me onna big shipment just as I was ‘bout to leave for lunch. Tell Esther that the market’ll have a good deal on trout tomorrow.”

Their heads nearly touched at the temple, and if Jack had the nerve or the gall, he could move a miniscule inch and connect their homely skin. It would only take a second- and what is a second, honestly? A moment in time? In the everlasting universe? And Jack Kelly wasn’t a very smart man, but he knew that humans only took up a small part of the whole existence of the world and a single second of humanity could manage to be wasted on the shifting of a cold, lonely wrist to lay on the freckled arm of another-

David rolled onto his side, more interested in a patch of dandelions than the market predictions for the next day. “Besides,” scrunching his nose, as if that would clear his irreverent musings on the universe, “not all o’ us are fancy medical men with all the break time they could ask fa’. I’m the big man pullin’ the weight ‘round here.”

(And it was true, to some aspects. Jack brought home honest-to-goodness bakery bread on Fridays so they could practice Shabbat without travelling, as Mayer so liked to do. He gave Les nickels to spend at the fair and bought Sarah hair ribbons for no particular reason. There was the gas bill he had paid one particularly difficult December, and the endless hours of doing various handiwork around the house when David was studying and Mayer’s old aches came to haunt him. The Jacobs’ home was also Jack’s, not because he needed it, but because they needed him.)

(He needed it too, he supposed.)

A yellow dandelion hovered over his nose, gently twirling with the teasing hum of David leaning in so close. Jack’s teeth snapped at it.

“You can drink the milk of these, I read,” David mused.

Jack wrinkled his nose. “Dandelion salad‘s only good tha first five times. Plus, it’d turn Crutchie’s tongue yellow.”

Dropping the little flower altogether, David rolled flat on his back and turned to gently nudge Jack on his shoulder with his premature wrinkling forehead. “Jackie,” he whispered.

(“I love you,” he would go on, later in Jack’s dreams. “I’ve loved you since I met you, I love you like a wildfire, I love you so much I cannot bear it, I love you like every character in all of my books, I love you.”)

“I’ve met a girl.” There was a hint of mischief in David’s tone- and Jack didn’t recognize it. There was suddenly a gated city wrapped around David’s heart and Jack was frantically scrambling for the key; For the first time, he was locked out of David’s life. He was an onlooker upon territory he had memorized by touch, by heart, by memory.

“Yeah?” If David had been paying attention, the word would have pinged around his Tin Man heart- hollow, empty, overused. “The Walking Mouth finally has someone to use it on?”

He relished in the feel of David’s uncalloused palms shoving playfully at his tanned, muscled arm. “Don’t be crass,” the boy chided. “Her name is April.”

(Jack was born on a misty-eyed April morning, with the clouds swabbed over the sun and an ominous wind blowing throughout the emptied streets. His mother had called it a bad omen. His father couldn’t fathom why.)

The crook of Jack’s elbow was full of David’s lingering fingertips; A question he didn’t dare ask left a sour taste on his tongue. He smiled at David’s far away face, his gaze belonging to a girl,

(a girl, a rotten girl, a girl that wasn’t even Katherine because that would have hurt much less, understandable even. She was an unimportant girl and she would never be enough for Davey, his Davey)

(A girl.)

and his smile was full of thorns.

---

“I can’t believe-” the words were practically ripped from his throat. “We’s goin’ so fast!”

David couldn’t drive in the technical sense, but he was captaining a true automobile as the Earth did spin. Jack sat in the passenger seat to crow at any poor little commoners that walked along the beaten path, none of them good enough to ride in the electrical engine Mr. Ford had handcrafted himself.

It had been a graduation present from a fellow doctorate student (one with a wealthy father and ill-meaning connections), a spin in his brand-new electric carriage for his reliable old pal, David Jacobs. Jack’s eyes widened to the size of half-dollars as the man passed over the keys to David- David, who had once put the wrong shoe on the wrong foot and walked around crooked all day, too proud to admit he had made a mistake- and they tried to conceal their excitement as the engine turned over for the first time.

He was going to do it. Right here, right now, in this strange man’s car, with clunky work boots on his feet and David’s spectacles sliding down the bridge of his nose.

“I love you!” Jack roared over the engine.

“I’m going to ask April to marry me!” David practically sang into the wind.

Jack’s throat closed up, his skin was set on fire, and he suddenly wanted to see what happened when you jumped from a gadget that was moving so fast.

“Wait, what? Did you hear me?” David’s hair was beginning to grow long enough that it was wild in the gust of the automobile. “I’m going to ask her to marry me!”

(When he was seven, another newsboy- only a handful of months older than him- had asked him if his momma had ever taught him about love. No, Jack had replied, both sour about being outsmarted by a kid who picked his nose and not ever having a momma in the first place. “It’s this great big tree that grows on the inside of our tummies,” the boy went on. “And one day, someone ‘s gonna come along and pick all ‘f th’ fruit on our branches, one by one, until all you have are pretty green leaves. That’s love.”)

(That same boy would kiss him in a dirty alleyway seven years later, and Jack would crack a joke about all of his apples still being intact. The boy would stare back with blank, unrecognizable eyes.)

Jack couldn’t even be angry- he wasn’t strong enough to be furious anymore, not when his days were long and the nights were spent clutching at empty bedsheets. He couldn’t be angry at his good, unselfish Davey, the boy who rubbed at his mother’s aching feet when she spent too long at the factory lines and clumsily darned socks when his sister couldn’t feel her slender fingers. There was no resentment for the beautiful, dark-haired girl who had accidentally collided with David at the grocer’s market when they reached for the same can of something-or-other. She had been nothing but kind to the gentle giant who lurked in the shadows of David’s life, telling inappropriate jokes and interrupting their dates. April always made a place for him at their table.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all year,” Jack called out, and watched his words dance away in the wind.

---

Katherine had struck him, hard, when he asked her to marry him.

He cradled his jaw with a shock that reverberated around his skull. “Kathy, what did I-”

“You are the most selfish, careless man I know, Jack Kelly.” Her skirts whirled around her ankles- the candy-pink cotton matching other bridesmaids’ dresses to contrast the delicate white lace of April’s wedding dress. David Jacobs was now a married man, and Jack Kelly a desperate one. “We all see how you look at him. There’s not a single person who hasn’t noticed. Get it through your thick, unfeeling skull.”

(“They say,” David’s vows were memorized. His voice never wavered. “That only someone in love would truly understand the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice: a man walks through the Underworld to save his begotten bride, to only turn around and lose her at the very last second. I’ve spent years pouring over that story, wondering why Orpheus would be such a fool, such an irresponsible, lovesick fool, if he truly loved her. But now, standing before my own darling little bride, I understand. I’d turn around for one last look at you. I’d turn every. Single. Time. I’m your fool, April. And I’d choose our fate a million times over.”)

“He doesn’t love you,” Katherine’s voice was heavy with disgust. “And I’m beginning to understand why.”

---

The train ticket was heavy in his palm. “I just don’t see why you have to go,” David whispered. “Who is my son going to learn his bad habits from? Who’s going to teach him how to hawk a headline for extra change? How to poke fun at his papa?”

“He has Les.” Jack’s voice was a barely audible rumble, rusty with misuse. He didn’t talk much these days, Jack Kelly now preferred to linger in the background of conversations, the memory of a bright young man he used to be. Those days had come and gone without much complaint, even if Jack secretly yearned to be so terribly free that he believed in a future for a gangly, fresh-faced boy and a hardened boy with the silver-tongued lies.

(There were rumors, you know. About horrible men and horrible things, about broken ribs and jail time even the Mayor would disapprove of. Jack didn’t do much to dispel the irrational stories people told about him.)

(To prove a lie is false, you must present the truth.)

(Jack didn’t have a truthful bone left in his body.)

A carefully measured silence stretched between them. “Is this about…” David’s hand instinctively reached for Jack’s rough palm- a second of contact, the flash in the pan, their moment in the universe.

He withdrew from his gentle touch, and taking a bullet to his leg

(Jack was twenty-three and alarmingly brave. David was twenty-two and studying to become a doctor. They both cried as David’s unsure hand stitched an unclean wound back together- David, tears of worry; Jack, hopelessly lovesick and falling apart at the seams.)

had been less painful. “It’s about Santa Fe, Dave. Kiss Esther goodbye for me, won’t you?”

The platform to the train was busy, flowing with New Yorkers that had somewhere to be, a place to go, or a person to meet. Jack was the lone soul that took his time to feel the cobblestone under his worn-down boots, the ragged laces dragging against the streets that raised him as their own. His suitcase, a single-handled brown leather

(the only item inside was a bundle of letters, all addressed to David Jacobs)

thing, had never seen a polish rag or repairman’s case, and he felt as if he had the weight of the world to carry with him all the way to New Mexico, where the cattle roam free and Jack Kelly wouldn’t have a broken heart to board up behind slats of wood. The train whistle blew, sharp and piercing, and Jack couldn’t resist his own dreadful hubris; He turned.

And David Jacobs had already disappeared into the swarm of faceless people with their endless inventory of needs to be met, so Jack Kelly got on a train to Santa Fe.

[pendragonfics]

So Be It

Paring: Mycroft Holmes/Reader

Tags: gender ambiguous reader, no pronouns for reader, Mycroft Holmes has feelings, Mycroft is a softie, reunions, slice of life, domestic fluff, fluff without plot

Summary: Returning from work overseas, Reader has a guest in their house.

Word Count: 1,493

Current Date: 2020-07-17

By the time the sun has set, the kettle, boiled for a cup of tea, has long been forgotten. It’s a cold day, a long day; perhaps the coldest and longest day there ever was. Of course, there is no science to that claim, but everything was always -est when you were not in the company of your boyfriend. Boyfriend. He hated that word so much, and yet, that was his word now. Before, when you were friends, carefully side-stepping around his brother’s shenanigans, he had been vocal about so much. Stock prices. The importance of public umbrella stands. The dying art of handwritten letters. And menial terminology for those who chose to be in a dalliance with another person. 

You can muse all you want about the years spent wasted, pining for the man, but it doesn’t help with the fact that you haven’t made any preparations for dinner, and there simply isn’t any room in your budget for take-away food tonight. Rising from the settee, you cast away the novel you weren’t reading - a present from your mother that doesn’t captivate your mind - you move from the sitting room to the kitchen. 

How long ago was the sunset? The room was so cold, and shivering in your knitted pullover, you flick the gas stove on, place a pot atop it, and rummage through the pantry for a tin of soup. Soup, while not the most appealing, was always an option. Once tipped in, you stand there with the wooden spoon, idly pushing the contents as so not to burn at the base. Your mind wanders to other things; the lawn would need mowing soon, and you were almost out of milk. Mycroft preferred skim milk, but it was dearer to purchase two cartons. 

The bubbling aroma of tinned potato and leek soup reaches your nose and satisfied with the consistency, you prepare to serve yourself. It’s not the same, living alone. You weren’t supposed to live alone. Hadn’t you agreed to live with him? You had. And yet, his work called him away so often, it was almost as if he was a ghost, an echo of his own image. 

The clock above the oven says it’s almost six-thirty. Your phone screen is empty - well, empty of him. There are notifications for apps you barely use, and one from an idle phone game that you’ve been meaning to delete. The only text message you received today was from the phone company. 

Taking your soup to the sitting room, you swipe the heater on with your foot and flick through the programs available on the telly. The evening news. A game show. A documentary about poor, hungry children, produced by rich, overfed adults. More news. Re-runs of a show that you never got into. Fed up, you mute the screen, and eat in silence. 

The dishwasher is on, benches cleaned, and the rubbish taken to the street by seven. There isn’t enough to do around the house to keep your mind off of the silence, so your phone’s speaker fills the air with a tinny rendition of a favourite song. It can’t take your mind off of what you’re missing. While your boyfriend isn’t the most touchy of all, you miss his presence, his voice, his hands; especially all of those toward you. His flight was supposed to land four hours ago, and you’re sure it doesn’t take this long to come through the security at Heathrow. 

Resigned, as the song finishes, you shut the app off, and take a cup of tea upstairs. Living in a cottage had its ups and downs - like how the vacuum cord couldn’t reach all the way down or up when you cleaned the stairs, and how nice it was to have a garden to yourself - but what attracted you to the life outside of the city was spending it with him. 

It’s hard to not think of Mycroft. His shoes sit at the front door, and his clothes are on the other side of the wardrobe. His side of the bed is untouched, and his clock beside the bed is growing dusty, as is his copy of War and Peace. The tea sits untouched beside the bed as you change, and as you wriggle into bed with it, it warms your hands, but not the ache in your heart. 

The mug is almost empty when you hear a scratching noise and the familiar tread of footsteps upon the carpeted foyer. You hold your breath as so to hear better; there’s a few other noises, and then, the sound de-shoed feet up the stairs. You sit up in time to see him enter; Mycroft Holmes looks tired. His hair is mussed, tie loosened and top button undone. His slacks are creased, and his suit jacket is folded over his arm. But the uncharacteristically untidy boyfriend of yours, looking so very tired, perks up at the sight of you. 

“Oh, ___________, I thought you were asleep,” he hummed, tugging at his tie. “Did I wake you?” 

“I was waiting up for you,” you place your tea beside the bed, and slowly, rise, moving toward your boyfriend. “Let me guess. Surprise briefing?”

He chuckles at that. “I’m not sure it’s considered a surprise if it happens every time, my dear,” he says, tie in hand. 

You reach for his chest, and clumsily, your tired fingers work at the buttons, revealing his undershirt. Though he had spent the last month in overseas for work, a six-hour flight from Cairo to Heathrow, and too long before ending up at your fingertips, he didn’t seem as clammy as he usually did after long nights at the office. The clothes peeled away, and you sat at the end of the bed as Mycroft shuffled off to the bathroom adjacent. As you heard the shower twist on, the water spewing forth, through the steam and the open door he talked what he could of the goings-on he had encountered since the last time the pair of you were less than six feet apart. 

“That sounds...illustrious.” 

“You give me far too much credit, ___________.” He spoke over the spray, “I’m a glorified babysitter to ministers and diplomats that toe the line of morality.” 

“Is that on your business card?” you retort, smirking. “‘Diplomatic babysitter’?” 

Mycroft steps out of the shower, towel around his waist. His hair is flat against his head, as is the light scowl at the thought of your branding of him. But he doesn’t speak any more on the matter, instead, focusing on his grooming routine. You don’t move from the end of the bed; through the doorway, you watch as he shaves, towel-drys his hair, and noticing your gaze, hangs the bathmat to dry before rejoining you in the bedroom.

“Do you think anyone knows that the great Ice Man of the UK has his partner wrapped around his finger?” You ask, leaning back, watching as Mycroft nears you. 

Anyone else would show their annoyance physically, outwardly, to you - but you know that sort of thing manifests differently in Mycroft. His face reddens, if not from the sting of his aftershave, and a small cough forces his words to stay inside his throat, unexpressed. 

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you add. 

“Yes?” he prompts, stepping into his green and white pinstriped pyjama bottoms.

You scramble back into the bedsheets and kick your feet under the covers for warmth, watching your boyfriend all the while. “It rains more when you’re not around. Or the same amount, but it doesn’t feel as nice alone. Sometimes I read something in the news and I’ll go to show you, but you’re not around, and I feel like a fool.” You sigh, leaning back into the pillows, “...and I miss you when you’re away. You’re unlike everyone else I’ve ever met. You’re smart and handsome...” 

“How is it, that after so long awake, I want to remain alert just to be with you?” Mycroft asks, joining you beneath the covers. 

He flicks the lamp off on his side of the bed, and inches toward you. Mycroft smells of lemongrass and coffee grounds, leather and faintly, peppermint, and while it’s an odd mix, especially for the painfully ordinary person you are, it’s perfect. 

“Please tell me you’re here for a while,” you plead, fingers at the ready to switch off your lamp. “I can’t go to sleep if you’ll be gone in the morning.” 

“Darling,” he moans, pressing into your side. “I would never leave without saying goodbye.” Looking you in the eye, he says, his words just for you, “I’m here for the rest of the winter - until you can’t stand me anymore.” 

The room is plunged into darkness, and you slip beside him, and pepper his freshly-shaven cheeks in kisses. “But Mycroft,” you tell him, “You’d never leave again if that’s the case.” 

He hums. “Then so be it.” 

[royalbluehues]

Come Back to Me. Pt. 2

Title: Come Back to Me. Pt. 2

Author: royalbluehues

Warnings:  None.

Pairings: William Schofield x Reader

Author’s Note: It’s here, lassies. The second part. Next part should be coming soon.

Would you want to see a second part of I Promise? Let me know!

I love seeing your kind words and thoughts! They make me happy! :) A drabble with Tom is currently in the works, so keep an eye out for that.

Part 2: Dressing Down

“You girls will be aiding the nurses in making beds, handing out food, caring for the injured, sterilizing the instruments,” Matron Carter spoke, “tasks such as those will be executed professionally.”

The middle aged woman sat her clipboard down on her small desk, “If you remember the contract you signed back home, you will keep in mind that the Red Cross does not tolerate any unprofessional behavior. You came to care for the sick and the dying, not to be lollygagging.” 

She looked to Kitty, one of the English girls, who was looking down and twiddling her thumbs, “Is there something you would like to say, Miss Stanton? You’re fidgeting quite an awful lot.”

Kitty’s green eyes look up in guilt, and you bent your head forward with eyes furrowed to look at the girl. 

“Of course not Matron Carter. Not at all. Just nervous to begin is all.” Kitty spoke languidly, despite her nervous twitches.

“And you,” the Matron spoke, whipping her head to where you were standing, “I’ve been told that you were walking about unsupervised. What do you say for yourself?”

You straightened your back, eyes wide as you looked at the matron with contained panic. All eyes were on you now, and Kitty’s head was bent to look at you in the same fashion you had with her. Matron Carter’s grey eyes sized you up quizzically, waiting for your response.

“I was just going for a walk,” you told her honestly, wishing you could turn your head to snap at the other girls to stop looking at you, “To clear my head.”

“To clear your head?” The Matron Carter repeated, “Girl, you are near the front lines. A few miles north and the Germans are there ready to shoot down anything that moves in sight.”

You felt your cheeks redden deeply, “I apologize Matron Carter. It won’t happen again.”

You narrowed your eyes, too embarrassed to meet eyes with her. Kitty and Shannon had told you and Lila about how severe the Matron was.

“Had she been a man,” Kitty once told you as she pinned her hair in place, “she would have met all the requirements to be a drill sergeant.

Now you were receiving the sting of the statement. 

“That goes to all of you,” the head nurse peered over to the other girls, “I’ve a tight ship to maintain. Kitty and Lila, I’ll be requiring you to help with the kitchen today, allow the boys working there to rest a bit. The two of you,” she spoke to you and Shannon as she lifted a paper up from the clipboard, “will be fixing the beds in the medical tents and rolling bandages. See to it that you assist any of the surgeons or doctors if they need help.”

She picked up her pencil, scribbling away at the paper, and all four of you stood ramrod straight, waiting for her next instruction.

You would estimate that you waited for a solid two minutes.

She peered up at you all from her activity, “Well?” She said coldly, “Go on then! You’re wasting time!”

You were the first one to exit the tent, hands clasped as you let out a sigh of relief from leaving her proximity. 

“The kitchens!” Kitty bemoaned, “What am I to do at the kitchens?” She grumbled when she was far enough where the matron wouldn’t hear.

“I hear they have a lovely assortment of turnips at the moment,” you put in, smiling cheekily to her.

“Oh hush,” Kitty told you, jutting her bottom lip out, carefully stepping around a pile of mud that had formed from the rainfall only hours before, “You know what I can’t fathom?” She asked, not waiting for a response, “We’ve come to help doctors, not bloody cook.”

Lila frowned at her companion, “Kitty that’s not nice, what if we were the ones in the trenches? Besides,” she told her, lifting her skirts to hop over the pile, “I’m sure we’ll make a better meal then the ones the boys have been cooking up.”

Lila, who came with you on the ship to England, held a sweet heart, always looking for the positives in situations. She had come from Cincinnati, and had easily befriended you upon meeting. 

“Cheer up Kitty,” Shannon piped up from behind you, “You might catch yourself a suitor.”

Kitty whose head lolled to the side, nodded, “Well I suppose you’re right. Well, I suppose we won’t be seeing much of each other until the day becomes night. Tooda-loo.”

She offered her arm to Lila, who hooked her arm with hers, and smiled at you and Shannon. “Take care ladies.”

“To you two as well,” you responded, beginning to walk in the opposite direction, “Don’t tire yourselves out.”

“Kitty’s got a point you know,” your British companion told you, “about actually helping. Not doing menial tasks.”

“Shannon,” you said sighing, “I don’t think the nurses will ever truly accept us. They just see us as help, not actual trained nurses.”

“But we are!” She exclaimed dishearteningly, “I had to go through classes to get my certificate!”

“I suppose it isn’t good to complain about such things now. We’re here and that’s all that matters.” You replied, looking around at the bustling activity.

You heard Shannon mutter about your ‘American enthusiasm’, but you ignored her.

Upon reaching the tent, you began your work. Changing the bedding, replacing it with the new ones, fluffing pillows. You made small chat with Shannon and was introduced to the head doctor. 

Your time passed slowly, and the gust of wind did little to alleviate the cold you were feeling. By now, it was nearly midday, and you and Shannon were sitting on opposite sides of the large tent, with baskets full of bandages at both your feet.

You were too concentrated on your task, rolling each bandage and tucking it in itself, laying it neatly in a small pile beside you. You shivered as the wind crashed against you.

You failed to hear your name being said in a low murmur, but heard Shannon plainly say, “She’s over there.”

You looked up mid-roll, seeing the tall man from the night before. You smiled brightly in greeting, “William.”

He came to you with his helmet held between his hands, reminding you much of a boy being scolded for getting caught, “Hullo.”

“How’s the day faring you?” You asked as you finished rolling the bandage, and then looking up at him through your lashes.

He shifted his weight and hooked one finger to ring the sweater at his neck, enthusiastically saying, “It was fine!” He turned red, clearing his throat, “I- uh, it’s been fine, thank you.”

You stood from your chair, moving the basket to the side, “That’s always something lovely to hear,” you told him, looking down as you fixed your white apron.

He took a step back, allowing you space, “I wanted to apologize for not coming earlier.”

You shook your head, “It’s unforgivable, lance corporal. Truly unforgivable,” you jokingly quipped at him, stepping aside as you gestured towards the chair, “Sit, please.”

He moved to sit, a small smile tugging at the upper corners of his lips. “Now let’s see here,” you mumbled, moving his chin up and to the side. 

The young man watched you with alert eyes, noticing the way the small curl by your right ear bounced in the wind. He held his breath as you moved closer to inspect.

“A nasty gash.”

“Just a scratch,” he countered, “Nothing serious.”

You moved to reach for the wet rag lying in a bowl of water, ringed it, and began cleaning his neck, “I’ve been trained to take any form of injury seriously, William.” When dirt gathered on the rag, you went back to rinse it, ring it, then come back to clean once more. “You’ve any other gashes?”

He sniffed, “Well there's one on my arm, but-”

“But nothing.” You interrupted, “I need to be thorough with my work.”

“Alright then,” He said, the same small pull of his lips returning.

“Tell me more about your home,” you told him, stepping back from your work. You avoided meeting his eyes, feeling them on you as you uncapped the made Dakin’s solution. You wet the small piece of cloth at your fingertips.

“What would you like to know?” He asked you quietly, in a softly spoken manner.

You hummed, “Tell me about your picnics with your mother.”

He shifted in the chair, tilting his head up when you moved in with the antiseptic, “Well, Mum really enjoys cooking. She’d pack meat pudding for us to eat. That was dad’s favorite.”

You dabbed at the cut, watching as he did the slightest of flinches that could have gone unnoticed had you not been studying him. He suddenly smiled, a genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle around the edges.

“There was one time Mum had packed our meal the night before, and I managed to sneak into it. She enjoys baking, and she had just made a batch of biscuits. But not just any biscuits,” he told you, eyes rounding as they met yours, “she made her shortbread biscuits, and I managed to get my hands on them. She was so mad that she told me that she’d never make them for me again. Nearly threw a fit, I did. But she still made them after. That day she had another tin hidden and took it with us. When we’d go, she’d put down a sheet, one with flowers all around it. She’d take a book with her and read, and if she wasn’t in the mood to read then she’d take her knitting with her.”

“And what would you do?”

“Oh, I’d play. At that age you can find entertainment in nearly anything. I’d climb the willow tree that resides just by the river. Sometimes I’d watch the boats sail by, or see if I could see any fish.” He scratched at his chin, looking off, “Dad made me a boat out of some spare wood he had. I’d play with that, too.”

He had absentmindedly taken off his jacket by know, rolling up his shirt to show you the long scratch running up his right arm. “Is your father at home?”

He shook his head, “No. He died a few years ago. He got sick.”

You frowned, both at his words and at his cut, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Not your fault.” He let you lift his arm and tap around the wound, “What about you?”

You paused your movements, “What would you like to know?”

“Tell me about your home.”

You gently set down his arm and nodded. “When I think about home, I like to think of how my apple tree is faring. She’s a beautiful thing, just outside my bedroom window. Around spring time I’d purposefully leave my window open so when I’d wake my entire bedroom floor was covered in petals. Have you ever seen an apple tree in bloom?”

He stayed quiet, but only for a moment, “Yes. I’ve seen cherry blossoms as well.”

You dabbed at the cut with solution, “Well, at home we only have apples. I’ve never seen a cherry tree before, but I can imagine they’re similar.”

“Yes,” He replied quietly, “Quite.”

The tone of his voice made you look up, “Are you alright?”

He lifted his eyebrows, looking at the irritated area around the cut, “Yes, I’m alright.” 

You eyed him thoughtfully, noting the way his demeanor became despondent. “What else would you like to know?”

He inhaled deeply, speaking as he exhaled, “Do you have someone waiting for you back home?”

You let out a small laugh, “Other than my mother and father and brother, no. Nobody special if you mean it in that regard. And you?”

He shook his head, “No. I’ve no one either.”

You wrapped his arm in a light gauze, pinning it securely and then shimmying down his sleeve. “On that note, you’re all patched up.”

He looked as if he did not know what to do, only looking down where your fingers pulled at his jacket, “Oh.”

He then looked up at you, “Can I meet you later? When you’re alleviated from your duties?”

It was your turn to blush, “Oh, I’m afr-”

“No she cannot.” 

William watched the color drain from your face. You moved to stand ramrod straight, clasping your hands behind your back, holding the rag soaked with solution. “Matron Carter.”

“Was is it that you’re doing?” The nurse asked you, eyeing William sitting in the chair. 

“I was cleaning his wounds, ma’am.” You told her quickly.

“And what of this meeting later on?” She asked you coldly.

You shook your head cheeks deepening in color, “Oh, no, ma’am. I was just about to tell him that due to protocol-” Your words died away under her stare. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish that has been plucked from water.

The stout woman frowned in disapproval, “I do not need to be constantly reminding you girls that you cannot stray from your duties, nor can you begin affairs with the men.”

You were taken aback, eyes widening in horror, “Matron Carter you are severely mistaken-”

“It was my mistake,” The man behind you piped up, standing to stand beside you. “I did not know that the nurses were not suppose to mingle amongst us.”

“Well best keep it in mind, lance corporal. While you’re at it, you can inform the other men.” She glared up at him with a stony look. “The volunteers have enough work as it is.”

She walked away, leaving you astonished. 

“Forgive me,” William apologized once again, “I didn’t know.”

You blinked, moving to take the wrapped bandages, “Don’t be silly. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was, though. I’ll keep my distance. Thank you for helping me.”

You said nothing, still mulling over the head nurse’s words. Just thinking about it made your throat tighten in anger.

When you finally processed his, however,  and when you had turned to face him, he was already gone.

.

.

.

Masterlist

Tags: @sexyskywalker @aathepenguin

[eugenesmorphine]

hi lovely! could i request something maybe a little mix of angsty and cute with Tab or Nix! Dealers choice xx

Mail Call // Lewis Nixon Imagine

AN: I tried my best on this one and had a little trouble at the end, but I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @hihosilvers @floydtab

Words: 2,319

   There her and Nixon stood. Getting ready for the big jump into Normandy. Mail call was being issued, and Y/N stood along with her fellow officers. She was the only woman in the Paratroopers, also an officer. An outstanding act for the United States Of America. First woman in combat on the front lines, leading charge of entire company. And now, she made it through two years of training, and she was here making the big jump.

  "L/N! Lieutenant L/N!" called Martin as he mad his way around the men with mail. Y/N's head popped up from putting on the black and dark green face paint. Closing her small pocket mirror quickly and looking over at Martin. 

  "Over here!" she called, smiling slightly. Her closest friend Nixon walked up from behind her. She walked over to Martin who handed her an envelope. 

  "Here you go ma'am," Martin spoke as he turned and walked off. Shouting off some other Paratrooper's name along with piece of mail in his hands. Y/N turned, looking down at the envelope that rested in her hands. A smile coming to her lips as she ran her fingertips over the name etched onto the paper with ink. It was a letter from her fiance all the way back home. The one she was fighting in all this shit for. Just as she was about to open it, Nixon came over and snatched it up right from her fingers.

  "What do we have here my fellow commanding officer?" he cooed as he read the envelope's information on the front. Whilst Y/N struggled to retrieve her piece of mail from the taller man. Who just kept putting his back to her. And with all the gear that was strapped to their bodies, it wasn't really hard to block the woman. She huffed loudly as she punched the back of his shoulder lightly. "Hmm, Marcus Jacks. Who's this, Y/N?"

  "Oh come on, Nix! Give it back! It's from my fiance! I haven't seen him in like two damn years, a letter is the only thing I get to enjoy from him!" she whined. Nixon froze for a second. 'Fiance? She has a fiance?' he thought. He turned and handed the letter back. A strange feeling in his chest, with a strange feeling of sadness. Watching her eyes beam as she snatched back the letter, smiling down at it like Liebgott does with a Hershey Bar. Just what he secretly wished that her eyes would light up that way when she saw him.

  "Fiance? You never mentioned a Fiance! We've been best friends for like two years!" He asked, hiding the hurt and disappointment well. Y/N just glanced up for a second and shrugged, sort of putting of Nixon's question. Looking back down at the letter and tearing it open carefully. Being just as careful when pulling out the piece of paper that held the contents of the letter. Nixon pressed his lips in a thin line and looked down at her his jump boots, nodding. "Guess I'll leave you alone to that letter then," was all he said before turning around to go see Dick. Who was watching the events unravel whilst standing next to Welsh. 

  See, Winters knew about Nixon's feelings towards the lone female Paratrooper. The truth slipped out after Nixon drank a little too much and when Richard asked him about his feelings, poor Lewis Nixon poured his little drunken heart out. Lewis wasn't one of romance or anything like that. But, with this particular woman. He thought he had fallen in love. After days upon weeks, upon months, and going on years of being with the woman. Laughing, drinking, shooting the shit, runs up Currahee. Lewis slowly fell for the woman, deeper and deeper. And now here was. At his demise. And Richard Winters saw the look of heartbreak in his eyes. Something he was shocked to see in his best friend.

  He gave a sincere look to the approaching officer. He just gave him one of those sad smiles as he pushed past the two officers. "What's with Nix?" asked Welsh. Winters just sighed heavily as he looked at his boots. He pulled his helmet off and looked at the shorter officer. 

  "It's a long story," he answered as Welsh just nodded. turning to walk off to wherever. Richard looked up at the woman about thirty feet in front of him. Her eyes focused on trailing over the letter. But the superior officer noticed the look on her face as her eyes traveled farther down the letter. Something changed. Something not good. Her smile quickly fell into look of confusion and sadness. Her eyebrows knotted as pressed his lips together tightly. She swallowed hard and just quickly folded up the letter quickly and shoving it into her jacket. 

  Her head popped back up, Y/N could feel Dick's eyes on her. She turned and met his eyes. Richard raised a brow at her, basically questioning what the roller coaster of emotions she had just experienced. Y/N sighed heavily and walked over, knowing that it wouldn't be helpful if it was kept silent. Her boots patted against the pavement of the runway that was filled with planes. 

  "You alright Lieutenant?" asked Richard. Trying to search for her gaze as she just kept avoiding it. Y/N chuckled, it sounded sad, making Winter's worry and questioning rise. She finally looked up at the redhead. 

  "I could be better. I- um," she stammered. She could feel that burning sensation in the back of her throat build along with a hard lump. She could feel the burn of tears well up in her tear ducts. Quickly the female officer looked down, trying to compose herself. "My.. My Fiance says I have to make a decision. That.. That it is either him or the Army. He says that he hasn't been able to properly see me in over two years. And he can't do it any longer. If I choose the Army, he is going to leave me," her voice broke slightly as she looked up at the officer. A sad smile on her face. It was her own way of trying to tell herself that she was fine. That this wasn't a big deal. But in reality, this was a huge deal. Marcus was the only man she had ever been with. High school sweethearts since Freshman year. The ring he gave her just about a month she had left for Paratrooper training rested on his right ring finger still to that day. For two years she remained faithful. In hopes to know what she was fighting for all the way back home. And with the Army, he just wanted to ditch all of the hard work she put in to be the first woman that was truly in combat. The first female Paratroop. The first female officer in the Army to have boots on the ground in the war. The blood, sweat, and tears to even get into the Paratroopers after she went to college. The pain she went through, the discrimination, the harassment Y/N endured for years and pushed aside just to get to the bigger picture of the process. What it would do for woman in the country. But he wanted to her to just throw it all away just to come home. Just to be his wife.

  "So, are you leaving? Is that what you're telling me?" Y/N just sat there for a second. She didn't know what she was going to do. She just sat and pondered for a second. There was so much to consider. But, Marcus was the only man she has ever been with. For years they were together. He was the love of her life. But, if he was the love of her life, wouldn't he want to support her through anything and everything. For Christ' sake, she was volunteering to possibly die for her country! Y/N was ripped out of her thoughts by a voice that belonged to her closest friend. 

  "You're leaving?" Nixon asked, standing behind her. He was just walking back to grab some food for his fellow officers, hearing the entire conversation. He dropped the three tins on the ground. The loud clanks and clatters of the metal rattling of the pavement rang off for a short few seconds. His arms dropped to his sides. Lewis never thought a heart could break this much. Well, not until now.

  "Nix, it isn't as easy as you think!" Y/N tried to start, but Nixon just scoffed slightly. Chuckling sarcastically and placing his hands on her hips. His head hanging low as he shook it.

  "You are throwing all of this away, for a man that tells you two. Wasting two years of your life. It is fucking D-Day, about four hours before we make the fucking jump, Y/N! That could be a dishonorable discharge! All the shit that we talked about, all the hard work you've done, just to throw it away?" he seethed. he wasn't angry at her, he was just confused. I mean think about it! She is questioning throwing everything away in a heartbeat, because a man that was supposed to be Y/N's rock and stick with her, can't follow through with his promises. And makes her deal with it. 

  "You don't get it Nixon!" she tried again. A few tears slipped out. She could feel a few eyes land on her as she glanced around. "If we are going to talk about this, can we go somewhere more private?" her voice was weak. Her head drooping low in defeat. 

  "No! We are going to talk about it right here!" His voice was loud. But it was filled with every emotion he was building up for years now. "You made me fall so fucking in love with you and our friendship, and now to toss it away like nothing. Shows how you really care about this country, your men, and your friends," Y/N's head shot up after hearing the words. Feeling like a red hot dagger stabbed into her chest. Her lips quivered as she was struggling to keep her tears in.

  "Lewis Nixon! You think I didn't fall in love with you! After all the drinking games we played, late night talks in the map rooms, walks up Currahee, after everything. It was impossible for me not to!" She spoke, walking up to him and pointing a finger at his chest that was covered in jump gear. Her voice coarse as she pushed down the hard lump within the back of her throat. Y/N dug out the letter from her jacket, have a tight grip on it and holding it in front of his face. "But I made a commitment before the Army. Before the Paratroopers. And I need to live by it. I made a promise. No matter if he breaks his, I can't break mine. If I do that, nothing in my life has purpose anymore."

  After her final words, she threw her hands down at her sides and peeled off her helmet. Turning back around and marching straight towards where the Colonel was. Nixon stood there, left gobsmacked and at a loss for words. His mouth slightly ajar as he looked over at the redheaded officer. Who looked just as shocked and upset as he was. Nixon just sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. What the hell was he left to fight for now?

///

  Finally the rest of Easy Company met up in Normandy. It was now light outside, all Paratroopers dropped into D-Day that was alive seemed to all make it to the rally point. Nixon sat on a rock, staring at his hands. Still feeling the heartbreak and sadness that he was feeling when Y/N marched away from him. 

  "Nix! Nixon! Has anyone seen Lewis Nixon!" Called the only woman. Now without her jump gear and rifle in her hand as she ran around the groups of Paratroopers scattered everywhere. Lewis' head popped up, her squinted his eyes in confusion. She left, she quit the Army, there was no way she was here. Was he going mad.

  "Hey Nix, is that Y/N?" Asked a sleepy Buck who was slumped beside a rock. He stood up and his eyes met with hers. Clearly he wasn't going mad. Because there she was, running toward him full speed. A smile quickly spread on his lips as darted towards him.

  "Holy shit, Y/N!" he called as she ran into him, dropping her weapon and wrapping her arms around his torso. Lewis' arms tangled round her, engulfing her tightly. "I thought you were leaving?" he questioned as he pulled away out of the hug. She smiled and just grabbed his collar, pulling him down and smashing his lips onto hers for a second. Nixon's eyes widened but he soon shimmied his hands down to her waist and just melted into it. It was probably the best feeling he felt in his life right about now. A few whistles and cheers could be heard from the men around them. Y/N pulled away and breathes heavily. 

  "Fuck Marcus, I took what you thought into consideration. Turned myself around and went to my plane and made the big jump. God, I am so happy you made it," she said breathlessly. "I'm sorry for what I said, I never wanted to push you away. I never knew you felt that way, I just.. Just," Nixon smiled down at her and pulled her closer to him. Placing a finger on her lils to shush her before dipping his head down to kiss her once more, he whispered:

"God, I'm so fucking happy you made it too. Now shut up and kiss me."

[paulieshore]

Obey Me / SCM Au Series

Words: 4789 

Warnings: I don’t know now to rate this, be advised? May take some time reading.

Characters belong to:

-          Obey me – Shall we Date

-          Voltage: Star Crossed Myth

Mc is Y/N, I have written her as female. Can gender bend if you please. ENJOY!!

Chapter 1: Goldie

 Just another typical day, well typical in the last year of your life anyways. Not many humans had the opportunity you did to study in another realm. You were recruited to study in Devildom under an exchange program to prove, demons, angels, mortals etc can live and respect each other side by side.

‘Diavolo’s dream’

To say it had been a pretty hectic few months would be an understatement. Luckily everything seemed to have worked itself out, you’d finished the exchange program (and passed!) even with all the ups and downs. Thankfully making it through alive, Belphie hadn’t killed you; hell, even Lucifer’s faithfully devoted and very scary temperament hadn’t killed you…. Yet, anyways.

Also adding that you found out you were a reincarnated, descendent of Lillith. The brothers’ sister not weird at all or something like that, to be honest there was a lot to take in for a simple human like you. Here you were though, furthering your study under the permission grant of Diavolo. Proving that, even when faced with adversity, when we (demons/humans/and angels) work together; we can get through anything.

Praying this year was going to be better, for all of you.

Beel seemed happier and hungrier with Belphie back, Mammon was still up to his usual antics to get rich quick. Lucifer working away and keeping order within the house, Satan reading away his life. Asmo as conceited as always, and Levi being Levi – going to school, gaming and anime.

Yup, another typical day in the House of Lamentation.

“Hey Y/N, next week there’s a school trip. We’re traveling to the outer limits of the city to study some of the earth for our essays regarding remedies. Want to be study partners?” Satan quietly sits next to you, prompting you to look at the D.D.D notification.

“Yea sure, I have yet to see the outside of the city! Is it like, devildom’s country side to human world country side?”

Satan shakes his head, “No, it’s barren waste land. Not even safe for low graded demons to be out in. So, with that said try not to wonder, yea?” he quirks his eyebrow up.

That was a dig at me wasn’t it?

You give him a pouty look, before laughing it off and nodding, “yea, yea, thanks for the warning.”

“Ah man, normally another school trip wouldn’t be so bad, but the outer limits are a bit boring!” Asmo folds his arms in exasperation. “Were literally going to spend the day, looking around stinking areas for rocks! Just to write about it, so dumb. I just done my nails, and the smell is going to take weeks to come out of my uniform.”

“Smell?” You curiously ask Asmo.

A voice jumps in the conversation, from behind “Ever smelt burning flesh of hundreds of rotting corpses?” Belphie inputs as he and Beel take their seats at the table.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head ever so slowly, the only thing you could imagine was that one time the candle flame lit a couple of your hairs on fire. That smell was bad enough, but burning flesh? Hundreds of rotting corpses? You had seen and smelt a lot of things but that would be a first, and you couldn’t exactly say you were curious to find out.

Just as you were sinking into a mind fuck, Lucifer appears at the head of the table, “Enough, no need to worry Y/N. Belphie is exaggerating.”

Your pulled from your thoughts with a look of relief.

“It’s just the smell of burning flesh, now no more talk, let’s try to have a peaceful breakfast.” He calmly states as he picks up his folk and knife unbothered.

WHAT!?!

.

.

The school hours passed by rather quick, you couldn’t help but to wonder, why in the hell did the outer limits smell of burning flesh? Was it like the bible stated, sinners burned in hell? All day your thoughts were plagued by this. When you ran into Simeon and Luke on your way out of school, they too were granted another year to study. Which was strange Luke couldn’t wait to go back to the celestial realm? Another year?

“Hey, you guys got a moment?” You didn’t mean to sound pathetic but your voice came off almost non-coherent.

“Y/N dear, what’s the matter?” Simeon gently caresses your cheek, “You look pale, has something happened?”

Head shaking side to side, before turning into a nod, “No not really, it’s more about what’s going to happen. This trip our class is going on later this week, the outer limits…. I was told of the smell…” Your voice getting quieter and quieter.

“Ah, you’re wondering why it smells of burning flesh? Luckily you were told before going, at least you can prepare yourself for it.” Luke pipes up beside Simeon, shaking his head in thought.

Nodding, “Yes, why exactly?”

“To be frank, we don’t ‘exactly’ know ourselves, this whole place has a variety of smells. The out skirts of the city are forbidden to even us, unless granted otherwise. It’s dangerous, If I were to give an educated guess, I assume hells fire. Creatures out there getting to close? Like moths to a flame.” Simeon grabs his chin, looking down to the floor.

Is that it? Guess I’ll have to ask one of the brothers, they might know; you think. “Hm, okay thanx a bunch. I better be going; I’m supposed to meet Mammon and Levi at the gates.” You turned and left.

.

“You’re not going to tell her?” Luke looks up at Simeon.

“No, didn’t you see her face? Its best if she didn’t know…” Simeon watching as your figure disappears.

.

.

“Where have you been, keeping me waiting with this scum.” You were approaching the gates of the school when Levi walked up to you.

“Sorry, I bumped into Simeon and Luke on the way.”

“The goodie two-shoes and the chihuahua, and stop calling me scum, I’m your older brother. Show me some damn respect.” Mammon joins, walking on the other side of you.

You debated bringing up the question but failed to, Levi was going on about another anime Solomon suggested. Mammon ridiculing over how dumb amines are, maybe another time you thought. The walk home was noisy but good, kept you from overthinking.

.

.

Days went quick, before you knew, it was the morning of the school trip. Oh shit, and you failed to find out, why?! Frantically getting ready in your room, it was like you didn’t even know your own room. Couldn’t find anything you needed, and even better, a bad hair day. Great way to start your day.

Just as you were rushing around the room, a light knock at the door caught your attention, “Come in!”

Lucifer appeared, “Y/N, breakfast was ready 19 minutes and 3 – no, now 4 seconds ago. Why are you not down yet? It’s going to be cold at this…” He scanned you over and sighed. “Your nervous about todays events? Don’t be, there’s no need to concern yourself with things you can not control. Here...” In his hands a small tin. “These are a special devildom coffee bean, open the tin and hold it under your nose if the smell today becomes a bit too much.”

You accepted and cracked open the tin, the smell was pleasant and strong. The smell exploded into your room, let alone your nostrils. “Thank you, Lucifer, how did you know?”

He slightly chuckles and ruffles your hair, “You look like a ‘hot mess’.”

“Hot you say?” Giving him your best flirty smile.

“Yes, but you seemed to have ignored the mess part. Now, quickly go brush your hair and straighten your uniform. Breakfast and then school, no more stalling.” Shutting you down and exiting with a shake of his head.

The tin was a nice thought, and he called you hot. Yes, you heard that right. Ha, ha, today worries seemed like yesterdays, you felt much better after Lucifer’s visit.

.

The trip towards the limits was full of chatter, Asmo sat behind you and Satan on the bus. Leaning over the top of the seat and filling in the silence with conversation. You subconsciously found yourself tapping the tin in the pocket of your uniform.

“Watcha got there?!” Asmo points. Satan’s attention follows the direction of Asmo’s finger.

“Lucifer gave me some coffee beans, to help deal with the smell.” You pulled the tin out and gave a gentle shake.

“Wow, that ass hat actually gave a damn about some one else rather then Diavolo.” Satan says with a scowl on his face. “is hell freezing over?”

Asmo and you slightly giggle, Satan’s calm persona really clashed with his temper. One would think he was a Gemini, hard to believe he was a Libra.

The bus stopped at its destination, after the class head gave a simple and short instruction, off you two went.

When they said barren waste land, you imagined nothing but rock for miles. No, the sky was dark shades of red, green and blues. There were trees, or dead ones anyway, every hundred yards; scattered about. Far and in between the trees and nothingness, was pits of crimson flames. The ground was a peculiar orange/brown colour, unlike the dirt at home, this felt of sandpaper. Near trees, and the pits you seen giant cliffs of rock. Minus the burning souls and demons dancing around with pitch forks, this was the perfect envision of what you were told hell looked like. Nothing like the realm of Devildom, which actually deemed lively and civilized.

The smell was overbearingly grotesque, is this the smell of burning flesh? You wanted to vomit; the tin of coffee though did help. Satan joked about shoving a couple of the beans up your nose to stop you from the dry heaving, every time you caught your breath.

You thought seriously about what he joked, anything to help with the smell.

So, you did.

Satan was first stunned and then fell to his knees in a fit of laughter. “You really are something else, Y/N”

You honestly couldn’t care how stupid you looked, at least the smell wasn’t so strong. You walked along the areas permitted, examining and collecting rocks and soil samples. When in the distance you swore you heard voices. You scanned the lands before you, nothing, you were about to return to collecting.

“Can you hear me?”

There it was again! The voices, were more of a voice, over laced like an echo.

“Satan, can you hear that?” You scoot closer to him crouched nearby.

“Hear what?” He asks not even looking from the rock and book in hand.

Maybe you were freaking yourself out, I mean there’s nothing out here.

**FLASHBACK** Hadn’t Belphie contacted me similar before? No, there’s definitely something out here with us.

“Satan, I think we should make our way back to the group.” Not breaking eye contact with the eerie terrain ahead.

“Yea, we just need a fire toads pebble. They’re usually found near the cliffs, just there. Come on.” Seemingly ignoring your warning, he grabs your hand and walks towards the cliffs which seemed soooooo far away from were you wanted to be right now.

“Can you hear me?”

No, no, no. The further out you two walked the louder the voice seemed.

“Don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm my dear~.”

Just like that, the anxiety that was growing was gone, like a spell had been casted over you. You looked around again, nothing.

Who are you?? You thought to yourself.

“Who am I? There are many things here my dear, I am just one of many...” it replied to your thought! The voice sounded soft, calming and cooing.

Finally feeling at ease, your feet started to walk on their own accord. Straight out towards one of the pits, Satan quickly grabbed your arm, breaking you out of your trance. “Yo, best not wonder, remember?”

Shaking your head, “Right, got the pebble?”

“Yea, thanx for all the help by the way.” He sarcastically counters.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not used to… well this” You gesture your hands around.

“It’s fine, but you’re not using that same excuse too when it comes to writing the paper, just so you know.” He smiles as he drags you back to the bus.

.

.

Back at the house, you stripped from your uniform and ran yourself a bath. Asmo was right, it was going to take some time to rid yourselves of the smell.

You slumped into the warm, lavender scented water.

“Can you hear me?”

You bolted straight up, covering your chest and rapidly looking around your bathroom. Again? But how?

“It’s alright, don’t be alarmed, my name is Daz.”

“I don’t mean to come off as rude ‘Daz’, but I’m a little busy at the moment could you possibly not!” You spoke out loud, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. It sounded right by your ear.

A knock at your door. “Yo, Y/N? You alright in there? Who are you talking too?” Mammon’s voice sounds from the other side of the door.

“No-one, go away! I’m bathing!” You quickly slump back into the water.

“Weirdo, your hanging out with Levi too much, starting to talk to yourself now too!” Banging on your door before exiting your room.

“Why didn’t you tell him my dear?”

You closed your eyes and whispered, “Look, I’ve seen and experienced a lot of weird things here. Today being no different, go away, id like to bath in peace.”

The voice did not respond, thank god! You took your time bathing, trying to unwind, accidentally falling asleep.

** The dream started off back at the bus, that same voice, echoing.

-          Can you hear me?

You turned around and found you were all alone, no one on the bus. No driver, no classmates, just you.

-          It’s alright don’t be afraid.

Your attention drawn to what looked like a trail of grey light, leading out into the barren land… You followed it.

-          That’s right, come to me. I’m alone, I could use a friend, just like you. The voice seemingly getting louder by a few nots.

You ask, - Daz? That you?

-          Yes dear, I am here, or near I should say.

 -          Daz, where are you, or who are you sorry?

 -          I’m a soul dear, but I’m afraid I need your help. I’m stuck.

 -          Stuck? Where, why can’t I see you?

 -          Keep coming my dear, you’ll see.

The trail ended near a cliff drop, you had never been here before but yet it felt familiar to you.

-          Daz? Where am I?

 -          You’re here.

 -          Here?

 -          Yes, look over, I’m here.

You glanced around and found a huge boulder, engraved into the stone a large black bird? Finely detailed, behind the black bird was a ring of flames, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. You reached out to touch the mark, and in that moment a loud and powerful voice boomed like thunder –

DON’T!!!! *****

You woke from your dream startled, sitting in now cold water. Shivering you step out and wrap yourself with a towel, glancing at the time.

3 Hours, you’d fallen asleep for 3 hours?!

Luckily you didn’t drown, quickly getting dressed, you decided to go seek out one of the brothers. Any of the brothers, this feeling and this dream really had you bothered.

Wasn’t hard to find anyone though, you could hear banter back and forth ringing from the kitchen. You approached the doorway, and pushed open the swing door. Mammon, Beel and Belphie were chattering and cooking. Upon entering they all glanced your way and froze.

“Oh my, are you alright!” Belphie asked with eyes as if he’d seen a ghost.

Mammon rushed to you next and placed his hands on each side of your cheeks, “By Diavolo! Y/N, you’re ice cold and your lips are practically blue. Did you fall asleep in the tub after I left?” He whipped off his sweater and draped it on your shoulders.

“I’ll make you tea.” Beel turned to put the kettle on, Belphie eyeing you suspiciously.

You wanted to speak, but felt as if you couldn’t. Even though you slept 3 hours, you felt so tired, too tired to even speak. Mammon guided you to a stool next to the counter, you sat and nuzzled into his sweater. Mammon lectured you on how easily you could have died, during which you could feel Belphie’s eyes staring into you.

As if he could sense what was going on, “Y/N, speak.”

You looked at him and tried.

Nothing.

The three of them looked at you in shock. “You can’t speak, can you?” Belphie reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nod, you didn’t understand why, as if your voice was gone. You felt this overbearing weight in your chest when you tried, a force stealing away your energy.

Belphie barked out, “I’ll get Lucifer.” He scurried out of the kitchen. Beel and Mammon gave each other a look, before Mammon said he’d take you back to your room for rest.

Not long after, Lucifer, Belphie and Satan appeared in your room. Lucifer was given a quick run up about the trip today, Mammon explained you falling asleep. You couldn’t even tell them about the voice, about Daz or the dream. You watched helplessly, shaking and nodding when prompted with questions. When an idea popped into your mind, you tried to get up to get paper and pen.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down there crazy lady, you’re obviously sick. Stay in bed” Mammon tries to push you back. You shake your head and point to the direction of your desk; Satan catches on and retrieves a notebook and a pen.

You summarized everything they spoke about only including, the voice, Daz, the dream, and the marking followed by yet another more powerful voice. You ended the page with how you believe its related to how your feeling. Then handed it to Lucifer, he immediately began reading it. His face hard to read, until.

“Who’s Daz and…...” His eyebrows knit together; face plastered in anger. “I need to speak to Diavolo immediately! You are all to watch over Y/N, I will send a medic.” Then he was gone, he took the notebook with him.

“What the hell was that all about?” Mammon observes.

“Y/N, this has something to do with the voice you mentioned today isn’t in?” Satan looks at you pitifully.

You nod your head.

“Wait, were you talking to this said voice earlier when I came to your room?!” Mammon grabbed a hold of your shoulders and gave you a shake. Belphie silently pulled Mammon from you, still looking over quietly.

You nodded again; silence followed, everyone looked to be thinking about something.

“I think its best we take turns watching over Y/N until Lucifer gets back, and Y/N if you hear that voice again, be sure to say… or write, sorry….” Satan reaches out and places a hand atop of your head.

You closed your eyes, was this a dangerous soul? What was with that dream, why was Lucifer so angry then?

You began to ponder; you should write your own ‘Guide for Dummies’, what to do and what not to do. Would save future students or visitors from all the troubles you seemed to have always found yourself in.

.

.

A medic came to the house along with Solomon, Simeon and Luke. Everyone was whispering outside your door, only you, the medic and Satan remained in your room. After a thorough assessment the medic gestured Satan to follow him outside. Solomon, Simeon and Luke entered.

“Oh Y/N, we’ve heard, I’m sorry you’re not well.” Solomon places a get-well card at your side table, along with a fruit basket.

Simeon takes a seat next to you on your bed, “Whatever happens, just know you are safe. They are watching.” He takes your hand, cold, oh so cold.

They? Who are they? You wonder.

“Liars, all liars, so many secrets... This is not my doing my dear, do believe me.”

Your hand grips Simeon’s tightly, Luke and Simeon exchange stares. Luke opens the door and ushers one of the brothers in, Belphie. He grabs another notebook and pen and places it before you. As you write, a striking headache befalls you, enabling you from finishing. All you could write was, ‘He’s sayin-‘, the medic rushing in next, using weird tools and gadgets around your head.

“How strange, I can not detect any black magic, or any sorts of soul tampering.” The medic removes the tool from your chest, and turns to the others. “I need to report back to Diavolo with these results.”

You pick up the pen with what little strength you have, ‘what’s going on?’ and place it for Simeon to take. He gently graces your hand before taking the note, “It’s going to be alright; I promise.” He said no more and left, Luke following close.

Answers you just wanted answers.

“You won’t get answers, can’t see you the secrets before you”

You closed your eyes, and decided to speak to the voice, the only one who answered to your questions. – what do you want?

“Answers, and Justice. Just. Like. YOU.”

Daz? Is that even your name? What justice?

“I’m known by many names, but Daz is fine for now. Free me, I was wrongly imprisoned… Diavolo is a liar, his father is a liar, THEY’RE ALL LIARS! Free me, and I will help you dear. Anything you want. Help me, help you.”

Next thing you knew everything went quiet. Everything was dark.

You saw visions of black and white lights vigorously smashing one another, then a great light illuminated. You felt weak, a fading feeling, cries… you heard sobbing. You saw Belphie and Beel, only briefly, then another figure. He had blue hair, a uniform of white and gold. An angel? No, he felt much stronger than the presence Simeon and Luke gave off. The figure turned to you, holding one of the lights in his eyes in hand, the other spilling over with tears. -          Who are you? “It will all be alright, my love...” He said this and reached out his free hand.

In that split second, your eyes opened. As your head cleared, you felt increasingly better.

“You’re awake!”  Asmo jumped on the bed peppering you in kisses.

“I’m fine.”

YOU SPOKE! You looked at Asmo, I have a voice again!!

“Yayy, that pretty little voice of yours is back.” Wrapping you in a hug. “Best not over do it though, we don’t quite know why or how. As much as we like to hear it, let’s not push it.” Tapping the sides of your arms.

You agreed, and slowly got up, even your energy was coming back too.

After a quick wash up, a meeting was held. Diavolo had ordered Lucifer to keep you home for the time being, each one of the brothers had a privilege duty to stay home with you throughout the week. Taking turns each day, today you had Asmo, he didn’t mind either of the latter. Lucifer collected study materials and notes for you to be occupied with, and instructed you not to communicate with the voice in your head.

“Why, who is he, is he dangerous?” You just wanted answers.

“I can not discuss this with you. I’m sorry, just heed my order.” He gives you a stern look before turning and taking his leave as well.

“I told you”

You take a deep breath, and sit at a dining room table to work. Asmo was painting his nails opposite of you, chirping away about colour contrast and matching his outfits. His D.D.D rings and he leaves to take the call; you paid no attention. Mid reading, you heard Asmo scream, you darted from your seat and sprinted to the direction Asmo walked out of. As you passed through the doorway everything warped, you felt dizzy; falling to your knees. Sight moderately blurry, you forced yourself up and looked around.

You were no longer in the House of Lamentation.

You were standing on the out skirts of the city, in exactly the same spot in the dream, where the bus should have been. You looked around and seen a trail of footsteps heading into a direction, your foot prints. How? Was it not a dream? Or is this another dream…

“Y/N, you came.”

The voice returned, sounding sickly sweet.

But how? I was just at home.

“Home? How touching, do you think they care for you as Y/N? or perhaps they care about you because of Lillith.”

No, that’s not why… What he said stung a little, you wanted to deny it but apart of you festered. A part of you agreed.

“Come to me dear, help me, help you.”

You were off again, following the previous path you had set. Until you stood just before that very same boulder, with the very same marking from the dream. You reached out and touched it, no voices were heard.

The ground began to rumble, shaking with an earthquake force, the boulder before you began to crack.

“That’s it, just a little more!”

An image began to appear in your mind, a dark figure, with pitch black hair. Dark markings on his forehead and eyes, and a black robe covering his body. His skin was sickly pale and his voice churning from the calm and cooing state to dark and haunting one. He gave you a creepy smile and a blood curdling laugh, which pierced your body and soul like electric bolts of energy.  Some bolts began to curl and strangle within you, like a snake, strangling your organs of life. Fear took hold, spreading in your mind like wild fire.

Darkness embezzled you, “Lucifer! Satan! Beel? MAMMON?! SOMEBODY, ANYBODY!?!” You screamed their names for dear life while you fell into the abyss.

“Your life is now mine former goddess! I’m free at last, I will destroy all of you for placing me here! Foolish girl, don’t you know not to go talking to strangers!”

His face contorted, an even wickeder smile ripping into his higher cheeks, up to his ears.

How were you supposed to know though, the voice calling to you sounded, calming? Cooing you to obey and come, so you did.

How were you supposed to know, there wasn’t a sign saying do not touch!

How were you supposed to know, nobody told you anything!

You felt the life slowly leaving your body, death. This time there’s no going back. They didn’t come, no one’s saving me this time. So many secrets, so many lies.

With the last of your thoughts, the last of your hope.

Please, oh please, I wish this would end quickly.

Just as you accepted your fate, a blinding and powerful light engulfed the area.

Tears welled in your eyes, “You came, you guys actually came!”

….

As the light dimmed, and your vision cleared, 6 figures stood before you.

…..

Weakly, “Wait, who are you?”

“If we would have waited, you would have died filthy human.” The one with black hair styled a little like Lucifer’s spat out. He frightened you!

“Be kind Scorpy, can’t you see she’s been through hell, like literally! Ha-ha” The one with soft brown hair chummed in, like a happy child.

“Silly Goldie, were gods obviously.” This one who spoke had beautiful blonde hair, and flashed you a charming smile which caused your pulse to quicken.

Not exactly listening to what was being said, to engrossed in what they were wearing. They had on white uniforms with gold, some of white, gold and black. You scanned the men before you –

One stood out most, he seemed familiar, like you’d seen him before. The blue haired one from you vision! Your eyes widen, suddenly another light and a voice that followed.

“Welcome to Paradise Y/N, daughter of Man.” That same voice, the one that warned you like thunder, spooling across the sky.

You squinted your eyes to get a better look, he looked just like the wicked monster in black. Only he was not him, this man was surrounded by light, warm light. His hair long and almost a white gold, laying upon his head, a crown. Beautifully draped in white and gold attire, he was stunning, prettier than any man or woman alive.

“You flatter me child, but we are no mere man.” He didn’t speak out loud but replied directly to your thoughts, warm and inviting “We are gods.”

Gods? Oh, okay…

Wait.

GODS!?!?

That was the final straw, you had fainted. All your energy gone, the last of your strength exasperated from the crippling events.

To be continued….

CH2 - CH3 - CH4 - CH5

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[queenbirbs]

the way home | Ch. 2 | Edward x MC

Pairing: Edward Mortemer x MC

Word count: 1,977

Summary: In which traveling to the past is only half the battle; or: Elena finds her way back.

Warnings: language, some violence 

Read from the beginning or continue on Read on AO3

Tag list: @writinghereandthere

------

Throngs of people breeze through the streets of the port town, unfazed by the stacks of boards and pallets of bricks that block sections of the main route. 

The hurricane’s damage is much more obvious this close: swatches of roofs torn away, replaced with makeshift sheets of tin, the steeple of a nearby church gone, with only splinters remaining. Elena recalls the story about how she saved her home from a hurricane and hopes that she hasn’t arrived too late. Having wasted time doubling back to her buried bag and stowing away the clothes she arrived in, she hurries through the packed streets as best she can. The new boots pinch at her feet with every step. It would be nice, she bemuses, if she could keep her clothes with her when she travels back in time. 

“Would’ve saved me a fortune,” she mutters, navigating around two men haggling on the price of a goat. 

Complaints aside, she loves the feel of the silk vest against her skin, of the fresh leather across her hip where her new sword gleams in its holster. She even bought a cavalier hat, excusing its purchase with the protection from the sun it offered. 

It’s nice to be back, to resume her role as Elena McTavish, infamous pirate. The years of holing up in her sister’s apartment or Robert’s hotel rooms, scouring documents and scrolling through endless message boards for time-traveling artifacts was no life to call her own. The occasional trip to Calgary or Edinburgh or New Orleans to hunt down a lead was the closest she ever came to a real adventure back home.  

Up ahead, she spots the tavern and winds her way through the crowd to reach it. The inside is as dimly lit as any other pub she’s been to, no matter the century. Ignoring the jeer of a drunken man near the door, she makes her way to the table Robert has commandeered near the back. His new attire fits him well, colored dark as to blend in with the shadows -- just as he likes. He slides a mug to her before launching into his update. 

“I found us a ship. Decent crew. They need four extra hands.”

Elena sips at the ale and raises her brow. “Did you tell them that the two of us are just as good as four men?” 

“Aye, that I did.” A smirk flashes behind his mug. “They agreed to take us aboard. I told ‘em that we’re interested in finding an associate who’s likely to be farther north. As it so happens, that’s where they’re headed for a trade route.”

“Did they know anything about--”

“You know as well as I do that Edward has made enemies -- none as big as the Admiral, but enemies nonetheless. I thought it wise to keep mum about who exactly we’re looking for, especially when they’re our ride out of here.”

Elena frowns, though she dips her head in acknowledgement to his point. “I asked the ladies in the shop, but they didn’t recognize his name. This port gets its fair share of traffic.”

“Aye, we’ll have better luck with the smaller islands.” After a subtle glance at the other patrons, Robert leans over the table and drops his voice to a mumble. “I managed to find a few of my old contacts. Both of them said the same thing: that he’s offering a bounty of sorts for information on you.”

She takes a slow sip of her drink and attempts to act nonplussed. “When did they hear about this bounty? Recently, or…?” 

“Within the last three months. So, that tells us that he’s in the area.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, unable to hide the daunting weight to her words, “the area of one million square miles.” 

“Oi.” He nudges her arm, bringing her sour gaze up from her mug and back to him. “The hardest part is over. We made it back -- and this time, hopefully, for good. Don’t beat yerself up. I told you that I’d stick with you until we find him, and I will.” 

Elena settles in her chair, holding back the relieved sigh that’s building in her chest. She doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that means to her. 

On their first return, he’d all but left her in the dust when the wormhole they used spit them out in a church in Salvador, down on Brazil’s coast. When their time ran out and they were both sucked back to the future a few weeks later, the leopard had changed its spots, so to speak, and Robert admitted his own faults with trying to go at it alone. 

“How do you manage to slip back into the accent so well?” she asks, unsubtly changing the topic at hand. 

“Helps if you learned to do so in the first place. When you first showed up, you hardly attempted to assimilate. Didn’t help you any when you waved yer mobile about.”

“Says the man who stuffed gunpowder into little tubes and tried to pass it off as an original idea? And it’s not my fault that I ended up being put on trial! Edward was the one who broke the Code by letting me come aboard.”

Robert shrugs off her point, hiding his grin behind the glass. 

“We would’ve shot you first, if that’s any consolation.” 

“Honestly, as someone who swam half a mile in a dress, it is.” 

 ------

Adjusting the sails alongside Rhodes, the ship’s boatswain, Elena looks out across the deck of the Little Death and to the green spot on the horizon. 

The ragtag crew welcomed them with somewhat open arms, more desperate than anything else to have help running their sloop. It didn’t hurt, of course, that Elena and Robert knew their way around boarding and pillaging merchant ships. On their journey from Santo Domingo’s port, they manage to pin down two ships along Hispaniola's southern shore, and then another as they pass by Tortuga, long abandoned by the buccaneers that ran it during the mid-seventeenth century. After stopping briefly in the West Indies to gather more crew, they head north into Great Britain’s territory. The islands here are smaller, clustered together within twenty to sixty nautical miles of each other.  

“Sail ho!” someone cries from up in the crow’s nest. “Got a brig comin’ ‘round to starboard!” 

Along with everyone else, Elena eagerly searches the expanse of water. The Red Duster flag fades into view soon enough. She frowns at the British merchant vessel, turning the ugly flare of disappointment into fierce determination when she boards it twenty minutes later. 

The merchant crew is really no match, she finds, after tying several of the men together with their own twine. Captain Delaney, a chiseled man without a single ounce of humor in his entire body, gets right to business with giving his crew orders on what to plunder. 

“Montgomery and Lear, supplies!” he shouts. 

Snapping into action, Elena and Robert disappear down the ladder and into the ship’s hull. It had been his idea, of course, to use fake surnames. There was no need for their temporary crew to know their real names, especially with the rumor of a reward for--

“McTavish!” a voice blurts from the darkened corridor. 

Her step falters; she knocks her shoulder against the wall before righting herself.

“Keep moving,” Robert hisses in her ear, brushing past to hide her from immediate line of sight. 

“Shut up!” Rhodes demands over the sickening slap of skin on skin. 

“What if it’s--”

“It’s not,” Robert cuts her off, bending down and shoving a crate of supplies into her lax hold. “If it were, they’d call you by yer given name.” He moves about the room as he speaks, pitching his voice below whoever is outside calling for her. “Don’t look at them. Make them think they’re just confused.” 

Shifting the crate in her grip, Elena nods her head. “Got it.” 

“C’mon.” He dumps a smaller box on top of hers in an effort to hide her face. “If the captain wants more’n this, he can send down another--”

“Elena McTavish!” the voice cries again when they exit the room. “I know it’s you -- it’s me, Doyle! Officer Doyle! Please, you can’t let them kill me!” 

Behind her mountain of supplies, Elena rolls her eyes at his begging. Robert’s nudge at her back urges her to ignore the man. Their path is blocked by other members of the crew waiting their turn to return to the deck, leaving her at the mercy of Doyle’s pitiful wails. “I -- I have a family, now, a wife and a little boy. Please, you have to tell them to let me go!” 

“Oi!” Rhodes knocks him back against the wall with a kick to his ribs. “What did I say?” 

“I’m sorry, please, I’ll -- I just -- Elena, please, I helped you when--”

“For god’s sake, shut up!” she snarls. She turns on her heel to face him, but Robert blocks her with his own bulky crate. “We aren’t going to kill you, you idiot. And my name isn’t McTavish. I’ve never met you before in my life.”

“I don’t understand. Please, Elena, you’re my only hope! You can vouch for--”

“Rhodes?” she calls down the corridor. 

The sharp thunk of skull meeting wood echoes through the small space. Her lungs seize, unable to see the damage for herself as guilt races through her. 

“You’ve a soft heart, Rhodes,” another of their crew says with a smirk. “I woulda done more’n knock him out.” 

Elena clenches her jaw against the grating noise of laughter. Robert joins in, adding his own insult that gets them going once more. Adjusting his load, he reaches down and pats her arm, nodding at the question in her eyes. She welcomes the breath of relief that fills her lungs. 

After they leave the merchant ship behind, Rhodes approaches her out on the deck. He drapes his arm around her shoulder in a casual gesture. Elena decides to ignore the gaze he seemingly has trained on her breasts. 

“I thought your name was Elena Montgomery?”

“It is,” she scoffs. “Moron mistook me for some poor lass, I guess.”

“Hmm. Poor lass indeed,” he agrees. 

Glancing up, his face tightens around a grimace before his smirk springs back. His hand squeezes her shoulder for a beat before he moves off with a wink.

“God, could he be any more obvious?” she asks without bothering to look up from her task.

Robert grunts in agreement, chuckling under his breath.

“Aye, he’s probably considering what he could buy himself with that many pieces of eight.” 

“How many, exactly?” Elena questions, curious. 

“Six-hundred, according to my contacts.” 

Her jaw drops a fraction before she snaps her mouth closed. “The same payout as losing an arm, depending on a ship’s Code. Which is, I imagine, what Edward’ll do if Rhodes here threatens you to get that coin.”

“That’s…” she trails off, still trying to move past the sum. 

“Not his best play, I’ll give you that.” He tips his head to the side in consideration. “But it keeps mouths moving, keeps people looking.” 

Finishing off her last knot, Elena shifts to lean against the railing. She could corner Rhodes when night comes and threaten to slice his balls off if he tells anyone else -- but then that would be all the convincing he would need. Keeping her head down is probably the best way to go about it, but that runs the risk of him feeling brave enough to pull a stunt on her down the line. 

“Dead men tell no tales,” she recites in a sing-songy tone. 

Robert steps up to join her at the railing and crosses his arms, glaring out over the deck at the man in question. 

“Leave him to me.”

[keyenuta]

TW Prologue: So enters The Wizard: part 2

(I'm gonna change up how i write dialogue to test stuff out, of you prefer this style please let me know) pt1, pt3

Mirror of Darkness: Your soul's shape is...Ramshackle!

Despite no echo being made, all throughout the room the word reverberated in everyone's minds. How could that be it's just an abandoned dorm?! For what felt like hours suddenly the silence was filled with a loud,

Everyone: Eeeeh?!

As each dorm head and student each shouted out in confusion, even Zoroaster, the boy in question looked at the mirror in shock, his golden eyes widening as his smirk became waver, beginning to crack into one confusion.

Grim: Ffnah?! Wait were getting a new member?!

Grim's sapphire eyes widened in confusion as he looked to You, now without their carpet of hair covering their face, Yuu looked just as dumbfounded as Grim, all they could really do was shrug.

Riddle: H-Headmaster, can they really enter Ramshackle, it was abandoned for some time after all.

Crowley: Mr.Rosehearts, I am just as confused as you are.

Leona: geez, this is too troublesome, I should've just went to sleep.

Kalim: ooh! Jamil, were getting another dorm isn't that exciting! Haha

Jamil: Hmmm, I agree Kalim, it is certainly interesting to say the least.

And all the while, despite all the murmurs and talking in the background, Zoroaster, the boy that spawned this uproar walked back to the mirror and now spoke plainly.

Zoroaster: uhh, you sure about that mirror? I ain't ever heard anything about a dorm named ramshackle ever, we need to clean your glass or something?

His chuckle died on his tongue from the expression of the mirror, it's stone cold face still glowering down on the boy as if nothing was amiss, or was a laughing matter.

Mirror: If you would prefer I look once more I shall, but your soul still reads ramshackle

Zoroaster: wait wha-

The boy was cut off by Crowley's outstretched hand. Resting in front of the boy's mouth as he rushed over to the mirror. While in the background whispers and murmurs slithered even more.

Crowley: Wait, wait, oh great Mirror of Darkness, there must be a mistake, Ramshackle is not a dorm I dont under-

Mirror: Headmaster Crowley, have I stuttered?

Crowley: well no, but why, please at least explain why no other dorm is suitable.

The mirror cutting him off gave the headmaster pause, but still he pleased the mirror for answers.

Mirror: Ramshackle is the shape of his soul headmaster. The reason why is because no other dorm fits his soul. The trait I saw within him was innovation. Now that is all. Please whoever is next come forward and give me your name.

Zoroaster seeing as he wasn't going to get anything more, went over to where Yuu and Grim stood and introduced himself to his new dorm mates. He strolled over to them and gave a playful bow

Zoroaster: Thanks for havin' me here, if ya want you can call me Zoro, no need to say all of it, oh and why's there a flaming racoon here?

Grim: Grrr, i am not a raccoon! Hmph, I am the great grim, and you are my new minion! Heheh

The monster laughed as he grinned from ear to ear imagining all the new stuff he could do with a new minion around. Zoroaster on the other hand looked to yuu who gave him a smile and shrugged, welcoming him in while the ceremony continued.

Up next there was the green skinned boy from earlier, as he walked over to the mirror, you could've sworn his brown eyes were staring at Grim with stars in his eyes. And thankfully when they stopped at the mirror, it broke him out of his trance.

Mirror: Give me your name

Jolting out of his trance, the boy whirled his head to answer the question, his hood flapping with every movement before he stopped on the mirror once more.

???: Oh-oh! Right, I'm Theodore, Theodore Elphaba!

He spoke brightly with a highish voice as he bounced and wobbled on his heeled slippers, while his hands clasped behind his back.

Mirror: Your soul reads, Ramshackle

Theodore: gaaaasp!  Yay!  I got in the kitty dorm! 

Theodore cheered happily as he raced across to Grim, despite the monster's protests he still found himself glomped in a massive hug from Theodore as ge began to pet the monster while in the background Zoroaster trued and failed to hold in his laughter

Grim: hey! Let go im not a cat! I-i'm prrr the great grim!

Zoroaster: awww, nice to meet ya Theodore, seems like you met the great and adorable grim already he teased to the monster. Who hissed between his purrs.

And next up, the Lion from before shuddered up to the mirror, his long mane of dreadlocks bouncing with each step as he shimmied forward. Gulping, while gripping his tail he stuttered while his orange ears dipped down

???:I-i-i am R-Regis Anakh, t-thank you

All through his stuttering introduction, the Lion listened for the mirror to give his statement as his eyes were bound shut, as he muttered in a scared whisper

Regis: please don't pur me in the dark gremlins dorm, please no scary dorm, please-please-please

Mirror: Ramshackle

Regis: That's even worse, oh no oh no, um uh, your great and knowledgeableness, d-do I have to be in this dorm?  I mean I would be fine being in his-no I mean uh

Zoroaster walked up to Regis with a smirk on his face, but he did feel a bit sorry for the guy, so he placed a hand on his shoulder abd tried to calm him down

Zoroaster: Heheheh, don't worry man, you're gonna be fine, no worries, ain't...nobody...gonna hurt you.

His word's tapered off as Regis scurried away from him in a rush

Zoroaster: man stop being an actual scary cat it's gonna be fine, no ones gonna hurt you I promise

Regis nodded fiercely but made no intention to move whatsoever. In the end Zoroaster shrugged and walked back to his spot there wasn't much he could do.

     As the ceremony reached its end, and the uproars continued, you could see the look on Crowley's face. It seemed as if he saw a ghost as in a clean sweep, each and every member of the late arrivals all had been inducted into ramshackle. Dorothy and the tin man, Simon both went in there as well to his shock.

Crowley: a-ahem! I thank you all for joining us today for our late arrivals, as well as the apparent reopening of Ramshackle into an official dorm. It is truly another day of miracles I must say.

The headmaster gave a smile to the students around him as he paced in place, and continued his speech.

Crowley: but with a new dorm, there must be a dorm leader. And for I am so gracious, I will allow one dorm head battle. For whoever wants to be dorm leader, please step forward now!

And out of the seven dorm members, two students stepped out. Though one had to tear himself away from Theodore's iron grip. In the middle of the room, the two students who chose to be dorm leader, was Zoroaster and Grim.

Crowley: i see, very well, Students please follow me onto the field, if you would prefer.

Leona: feh, what do I care about a few herbivores fighting, Ruggie let's go, this was a waste of time

Ruggie: Shishishi, alright Leona bye bye!~

     Waved the hyena as Savanaclaw made their exit. For the rest of the dorm leaders, vice and otherwise, for their own reasons they stuck around. Whether it's simple interest, such as with riddle, entertainment(Kalim) or if its for more unsavory means, as with Azul, they each waited for Crowley to give his mark. On one side of the Ceremony room, Zoroaster smirked a wicked grin, bouncing on his feet as he shook his right arm, as soon an item tumbled from its dark abyss to reveal a black hooked handle. Zoroaster's eyes closed for a moment as he twirled the hook, feeling a familiar groove he snapped his eyes open as a metallic click sounded from the hook, as a long shaft rocketed from the collapsed cane.

Now instead of gold, his eyes have turned an emerald color as with one last twirl, he launched the cane to his left hand and snapped the cane to his side like a showman on set getting ready to perform. Green eyes met sapphire as Zoro smiled at the monster before him.

Zoroaster: So grim, how 'bout we put on a good show, i think the audience deserves a good one after all this

Grim: heheh! Yeah I'll show the great magician grim in action! They'll be like "ooh, look how cool Grim is!" Or "wow! I wonder when I could get that good"

Zoroaster: Heheheheh, a magician vs a wizard, wonder who'll win? Though I will say, my money's on the wiz.

Crowley: The rules are simple, when this mirror leaves my hand, please only use magic attacks only, good luck you two.

Theodore: GET HIM GRIM!

Yuu: Heheh, good luck you two

Regis: please don't hurt me but, y-yes, best of luck

A ear bursting shatter fills the room, it's trickle being closely followed by the roar of flames and a low mutter. Rapidly as an ocean of blue flames stampeded towards Zoro, he made no movement so move, no action to defend, all he did was mutter.

Zoroaster: Walk down a road of yellow bricks and come to see the wizard, of the Emerald city

After the flames enveloped the tall boy, in mere moments a fierce howl echoed all around. As from where the flamed had hit, a thick emerald mist billowed out. Surrounding everyone on its haze as from behind Grim a figure made of that mist drifted out, and with a swing of a cane, Grim was launched back by a emerald bolt of lightning.

Grim: Arrrgh, what the-why didn't you get roasted?!

Grim demanded annoyed, but without answering his question, Zoroaster snapped his fingers, as the very ground beneath them cracked and heaved up, thinning into a long winding road of amethyst stone that Zoro hopped on, sliding on the thin pavement as he rocketed towards grim

Azul: oooh, that's quite the impressive unique magic, very powerful indeed.~

Azul cooed, eyeing the display before him, but in the background, you see Regis cowering once more in the corner, trying to stay very far away from this fight. Meanwhile Theodore was calling grim to shoot a left, and right at the monster. Rooting for him with all his might.

All the while Grim on all his paws charged forward to meet the incoming boy head on, but as he went to launch fire onto the boy, he suddenly found himself shrink more and more, and for those outside, in a poof, they found grim transformed into a small lizard, landing square in the wizard's hand.

Zoroaster: if ya wanted to meet the wizard ya came to the right place, would ya rather be a lizard or frog

At those words, seconds after the words left Zoro's lips Grim turnt from a lizard to a black frog. Eyes bugging out frog grim leaped out of Zoroaster's hand and yelled angrily at him

Grim: nyaah! No-i wanna be normal now

Zoroaster: Pffft if that's your request I'll grant it, don't worry

Snapping his fingers, Grim in a second turned back to normal as the ground returned to normal as the wizard tried and failed to hold his laughter in

Zoroaster: Heheheheh, sorry about comin' off like that, guess I'm feelin' playful today

Grim: phew, hey, don't do that again?! What kinda magic is that?!

The monster demanded as the flames in his ears blazed from agitation while Zoro leant on his cane

Zoroaster: it's my unique magic, emerald city whatever's in this ring, whatever pops into my head i can do. Zero gravity? Got it, want a soldier of stone i got that. Guess ya could call it magic incarnate i guess.

To further emphasize that, he floated on the air and soon a soldier of purple stone was erected in moments. And in the back, you could see Azul's smile widening as he flicked up his glasses, chuckling lowly as he listened to what this magic was. Now he was sure he had to have it.

Trey: my, that seems like a complete opposite to your own unique magic Riddle.

Riddle: yes, that seems to be the case, Trey

Grim: well i don't care how strong that is, ill still show yiu who's boss minion!

Zoroaster: Wonderful, let's keep goin' then!

      The Wizard smirked wildly as he and the soldier charged forward, to respond Grim decided to run while sending out pot shots of flames, immediately, the soldier's rocky frame bounded together and took the flames head on, as Zoroaster hopped on its back, launching him to the cat, skidding to meet him, as in a second, water and fire magic collided into steam, surrounding the two in a blanket if thick fog, but despite this, the wizard still smirking, snapped his hand one last time, as now, a hiss was heard.

As soon, unbeknownst to Grim, from the steam the two had just made, two snakes formed and wrapped the monster up, binding him as the snaked coiled around him.

Crowley: Seeing as Grim can no longer continue the fight, Zoroaster Ozma wins, please release grim Mr.ozma.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Zoroaster gave one last snap as the fog receded, and any and all damage from it disappeared like smoke. Now unfurling grim groaned as he saw Zoro crouch to pick him up.

Zoro: We put on a great show I gotta say, how ya feelin' Grim?

He asked outstretching his hand, which soon met a paw

Grim: mmm, in fine, heh, i guess i can let you become dorm leader minion

Snickering with the monster Zoro shrugged it off

Zoroaster: ya ain't allow nothin' but alright

Crowley: Mr Ozma, congratulations on being dorm leader of Ramshackle, perfect, could you be so gracious and guide the dorm to their home.

Yuu: Sure why not, everyone follow me haha