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#gonna print a picture of his face and pin it to the wall and punch it until i break the wall
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yippee hooray and things of that sort lives in my brain
Mayhaps could you draw Light in a skirt
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i blacked out as soon as i saw the words “light in a skirt”
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hansolmates · 4 years
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jjk; off-league
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summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation.  pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity  w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write! 
“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.” 
“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach. 
It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason. 
You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs. 
It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy. 
You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache. 
“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud. 
Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long? 
Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?” 
“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly. 
“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong. 
But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon. 
The most recent message is to a person named John Kook. 
You scream. 
Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—” 
“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!” 
“Well… is he at least cute?” 
“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!” 
“Tasteful nudes.” 
“I’m gonna die.” 
“He’s gonna die, of happiness.” 
Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates. 
Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM. 
“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?” 
“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.” 
Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot. 
You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram. 
Of course, he’s stupid hot. 
He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well. 
To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more. 
Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend. 
Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league. 
By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on. 
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“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen. 
Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen. 
Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.
“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?” 
You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot. 
“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?” 
“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?” 
“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.” 
“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”
“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!” 
The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”
“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.” 
“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”
“—interrupting something?” 
You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance. 
And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing. 
“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.” 
Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures. 
“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.” 
You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something. 
“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie. 
Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.” 
“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”
“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink. 
“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.” 
Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy. 
You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really. 
Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing. 
“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”
It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 
“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.” 
Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment. 
“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film. 
You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic. 
“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?” 
He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.” 
“You think right.” 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair. 
“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?” 
You frown, “At least put some thought into it.” 
“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier. 
His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot. 
You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud. 
Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes. 
After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container. 
“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?” 
Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display. 
“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”  
The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?” 
“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.” 
Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation. 
“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.” 
You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking. 
“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.” 
Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.” 
“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?” 
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.” 
For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.
“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize. 
“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.” 
“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.” 
If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.” 
“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?” 
Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.” 
“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.” 
You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you. 
The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down. 
When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks. 
Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts. 
Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed. 
[March 12th, 3:53AM]
You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…
John Kook: ??? 
John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it
John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?
[March 12th, 12:02 PM]
John Kook: are u mad
John Kook: you’re mad
John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you
John Kook: im making it weird. 
[March 31st, 6:24 PM]
John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…
You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture. 
John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today. 
Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.” 
You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.” 
“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.” 
“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.” 
“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?” 
"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.” 
You choke on your saliva. 
“You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?” 
“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.” 
“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?” 
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?” 
“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!” 
“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”
“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.” 
You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.” 
“I’ll throw up on you, try me.” 
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Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off. 
“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?” 
“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?” 
Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.” 
Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.” 
He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens. 
Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists. 
“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger. 
You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine. 
Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.” 
He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.” 
You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?” 
“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.” 
If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag. 
Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin. 
“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio. 
“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”
You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony. 
“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him. 
“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.” 
“It was.” 
“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table. 
He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.” 
You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.” 
His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity. 
The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die. 
Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more. 
“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 
He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 
You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them. 
As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.
Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.” 
There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists. 
Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset. 
“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself. 
“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.” 
“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.” 
He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink. 
Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set. 
Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.” 
“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.
“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.” 
You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.” 
“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?” 
Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—
“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that. 
“Thinking about what?”
“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”
“Excuse me?” 
“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?” 
“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.
“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?” 
“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.” 
And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself. 
“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.” 
Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.” 
“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.
“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.” 
You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame. 
“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home. 
You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead. 
“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade. 
“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?” 
He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?” 
“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?” 
With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this. 
“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.” 
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More than a memory
Sorry if this is formatted really horriblly I finished this up on mobile I hope you like this there’s about 2 paragraphs I cut of ruby nerding out
Once they got to Vacuo oscar was sorta unofficially a huntsman now laws are a lot looser here so he’s been saving quite a bit of money from going on missions after team rwby and Jaune came back it was weird they were only gone a month but so much had changed the merge was almost finished he could feel it every day he felt less like himself he didn’t even object when Theodore called him oz anymore he and ruby weren’t as close anymore whatever happened wherever they were changed her he got bits and pieces from Jaune and yang but the others kept quiet he knew that he’d be gone soon so he wanted to leave something for her kinda like proof that they ever met in the first place so he was now standing in a vacuan market at 12 am alone with a lot of lien on him this was probably a bad idea but at one point he heard ruby ramble about this gun shop that they were the best at what they do so he called made an appointment it just so happens they prefer to see let’s just say unofficial clients at night he knocked at the door it read “bikal bullets” it opened and an old owl faunas man opens it his large yellow eyes are piercing “hello mister pine headmaster theodore told me to expect you” oscar rubs his hands together “yes mister bikal he said to come late” mr Bikal leads him inside on the walls hang dozens of expensive weapons “so mr pine what are you looking for” oscar took the blue prints out of his bag and set them down on the drawing table “um im looking for something custom built its for a friend” mr bikal takes the blue prints and examines them “these are pretty impressive mr pine did you draft these yourself theses yourself” oscar nods “mostly i had a little help with the math part of it but the mechanical stuff i did myself” mr bikal nods “something like this will cost a good amount even with the discount you get for being school staff” oscar nods “do you have an estimate on the price and how long it'll take to make” mr bikal snaps his teeth “around 12000 lien and 2 weeks” oscar nods he had 140000 saved up but he did want to buy some more things for the others “alright i can uh i can afford that” mr bikal goes over to what looks like a drawing table and pins them up “i will start work immediately mr pine you make your payment on completion if you desire the school has credit with me the price includes 3 magazines and a case so that will also be custom made shall you pick it up or would you prefer its delivered” oscar stands uncomfortably as mr bikal starts measuring out pieces of fine metal “ill pick it up dont worry” mr bikal nods and says “alright mister pine your can go now its not a good look for a young man to be out so late especially so close to the red light district” oscars face gets red “yes of course” oscar leaves and walks back to the academy sneaking back into his dorm room was easy tho nora did pester him about where hed been he had left a note saying when he would be back for the next 2 weeks he kept a poker face nora helped him set up his bank account so the sudden spending of 12000 lien did give her pause so she decided to ask him about it
He was sitting on his bed reading some Treatise about some long-forgotten subject she knocked on the bedpost and he looks up “hey Nora did you need something” she sat at the end of his bed “hey what did you spend 12 thousand lien on” he hides his face “please don’t tell anyone it was on something for ruby” she smiles “ah young love I was worried that you wouldn’t make your move so what kind of thing sets you back 12 thousand it’s something big right” he nods his head “its a gun i-i had it commissioned for and it’s not really cause I’m trying to make a move or anything it’s more like a going away gift” Nora frowns and shakes his leg “where you going taking a vacation or something” he feels tears bite the edge of his eyes “Nora the merge it’s soon I know it won’t be long until I’m gone and I want you all to remember me but her especially I don’t want to be just a memory” he struggles to keep the tears at bay but nora pulls him into a hug tighter but somehow softer than her usual ones “hey you will never ever be just a memory you will always be you and even if your not you'll always be one of us we all love you so much” and then the damn breaks and he sobs into her shoulder “i don't wanna go away nora i want to live i wanna go to school see my aunt again” she rubs his back and says “i know sweetie you'll get to do all that ok i promise” he sniffles “nora i need you to do something for me if i do disappear ok i need you to go back to my aunt and tell her everything ok it can't be oz ok don't tell her how to find him it won't make sense i'll just hurt worse i dont want that for her” she nods “i won't ever have to do that ok but i promise” she holds him until he stops crying and they take a a a nap they always helped him calm down
Finally, after a long 2 weeks, he goes to pick it up when he goes inside Mr. Baikal shows him the box it’s a beautiful dark red mahogany wood he opens the case and looks at the pistol inside its silvered handle and barrel were beautiful he’s almost afraid to touch it the engravings were perfect exactly as he had drawn them if not better the moon and rose he had designed look perfect he takes it gently in his hands he looks down the sights the night sights glow a brilliant carmine red he looks at the magazine even it was of an amazing quality everything down to the smallest detail was exactly as he pictured it he sets it back into the case “thank you, mister, Bikal it's absolutely perfect” Mr. Bikal smiles and nods “I’m glad everything is to your satisfaction Mr pine if you find there is anything wrong with it or you want something changed everything I make comes with a lifetime warranty the paperwork is in the case as well as a certificate stating that I am in fact its builder” they shake hands and oscar takes it home in his bag he excitedly gets back to his dorm he sets it down still in his bag on his bed now all he have to do is give it to her
He sits on it for a few days but finally decides to just give it to her oz has his reservations about this but decided that oscar deserves this to maybe say goodbye in his own way
Ruby was going on walks around shade it’s something he noticed so he waited for her to go on one of those walks it was cool in vacuo at night the air was nice compared to the oppressive heat of the day she was meandering along the walkways he followed behind her a bit the case hung heavy in his bag even tho it wasn’t heavy at all after a while she sits at an old wooden bench overlooking the gardens he approaches and she perks up “oh hey oscar are you going somewhere” she says pointing to his bag he shakes his head “do you mind if I sit” she shakes her head “no go-ahead did you need to talk, something about Theodore?” he sits down on the other side of the bench gently setting his bag between them “no uh no I just uh I wanted to give you something” he opens his bag and takes the case out holding it out to her she takes it “it’s not my birthday is it this looks really nice you didn't have to do this” ruby says smiling “well i've been wanting to do something nice for you” oscar says rubbing the back of his neck she lifts the top and gasp gently lifting it from its case “oscar this is this is amazing” she drops the magazine and pulls the slide back making sure its clear and runs her hand along the engraving her symbol etched into the left side of the grip “oh thanks i uh actually designed it myself oz helped me with the math” she looks at him her eyes wide “oscar it took me 8 attempts to successfully design a functioning crescent rose gun design is really hard how long did you spend on this” oscar blushes “the idea kinda started in atlas i was gonna ask you to help me make one so i wouldn't have to rely on my cane but everything happen and when you were gone i kept messing with the idea and i kept thinking about you so i kinda ended up designing it for you more than me eventually do you like it” ruby scoffs “oscar do i like it i love it its probably the single greatest gift anyones ever given me” he smiles wide “really that makes me really happy I was worried you wouldn’t like it” she sets it back gently into its case “really Oscar it’s amazing you have a knack for design your gonna have to show me the draft notes and everything cause this is this is amazing I can’t wait to shoot it this is wow” she chokes up and he leans down “ruby are you ok” she nods wiping her face of nonexistent tears “no worries this is just really cool and sweet and god your so amazing” he felt his heart flutter and his cheeks heat up “the guy who built it that bikal guy you talked about was just as great as you always said” she puts a hand on his shoulder “are you telling me Hephaestus bikal made this Oscar” she says seriously “uh yeah why is that bad” she kisses his cheek and squeals “oh my god your amazing this is now even better god I could die happy wait his rates are insane how did you afford this” still recoiling from the kiss he bites his lip “uh huntsmen work” she narrows her eyes “how much did this cost Oscar it had to be expensive” he shakes his head “not telling it’s a gift you don’t need to worry about it just enjoy it” she punches his arm “I will but I am going to repay you for this somehow ok” “you already did” he says quietly he says rubbing the back of his neck “ruby I don’t really know how long I have left and I would like to spend at least some of it with you I understand if you don’t I know it might make it harder when I’m gone bu-whoa” he’s pulled into a hug she pulls his head into her shoulder and holds him tight “I wanna spend more time with you too but you will always be Oscar ok oz is oz you are you” he sighs and smiles “see what I mean by paying me back”
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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years
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Could you write about a girl getting harrassed by max or surfer nazis for a weeks by then and the boys taking notice help her out of a possible dangerous or taboo situation and let her join their lil coven? I know you could write something really awesome!
I goofed and forgot this was an answer to an ask haha! Okay so I'm gonna give fair warning, this is gonna get a bit graphic. I mean you wanted a traumatic taboo, and, well, wish granted!
Initiation's Over, Time to Join the Club
Poly!Lost Boys × Fem! S/O
+18 CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Themes, Sexual Assault, Potential Triggers, Violence, Gore, Offensive Language! READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED!
It had only been a few days since you tried to break free of the Santa Carla gang known as the Surf Nazis. Doing so proved far more difficult than you could have imagined. You couldn’t even be on the boardwalk anymore. They were everywhere, as soon as you were spotted former friends would crowd around you. They weren’t stupid enough to do anything physical, but they’d harass you to the point of running back home. There was one reason that you kept coming back. 
The boys.
 You started talking to them earlier this summer. Purely by accident. You had gone on your own to get a quick food run at the Kung Pao Lotus, and somehow got your order mixed up with the smallest of the group, Marko. You managed to catch him as he was leaving the restaurant and somehow that was all you needed. They took to you so quickly. Polyamory was such a foreign concept, especially when it comes to romantic relationships. But as your feelings developed over these past few months, you found yourself falling victim to each of their charms. There was just something so other worldly about the bikers. It was an unspoken mystery that only drew you in further. WHenever they had to leave for the night you’d ask them if you could join, but they all seemed particularly against the suggestion. There was always an air of discomfort, like they had something they didn’t want you to see. Regardless, Marko, Dwayne, Paul and David had swept you off your feet into the dark Santa Carla nightlife, and soon you found yourself making the choice between them, or your old gang.
But when you tried to back out of their so called “rivals”- honestly only the SN’s thought of themselves that way, things got nasty. A few of them started showing up around your neighborhood. You could see them in busted down trucks or rumbling motorcycles just strolling through your neighborhood. Your mom’s car was trashed, absolutely covered in spray paint, your garage was vandalized, trash bins were dumped out all over your yard- you were starting to get scared. 
Even still you avoided bringing up the subject to the boys. You didn’t need them worrying about something like this. After all, you were a big kid, you could handle yourself. Whenever your ex-friends walked by on the boardwalk David would raise his brow when you ducked behind them, quickly covered by an excuse.
“Sorry I thought I saw a quarter on the ground,” you’d throw out, nervously standing up.
Even Paul was beginning to notice your uneasiness whenever Surf Nazi’s circled your path.
“Listen, kitten,” Paul assured, sitting on the steps beside you while you picked at your cotton candy. “If those assholes are giving you shit.. We can protect you, babes. You just say the word and I’ll rip their heads off.”
“Me too babes,” Marko would chime in, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. “All it takes is one word.”
The suggestion of mass slaughter just didn’t sit well with you and you shook your head. “No, guys don’t worry it’s just a bunch of petty pranks. They haven’t done anything that bad. I promise.”
You were so certain that in a few days they’d grow bored. After all, it had been a week and a half by now! Things couldn’t escalate more than they already were. While they weren’t your friends anymore, they still wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right?
It was a late August afternoon, maybe an hour before sunset. Today was a record breaking heat wave, the hottest it had been today was almost one hundred and eleven degrees. It was your mom’s idea to send you to the beach instead of sulking at the house. Truthfully you were a little glad you did.
The ocean was just beautiful, cradling the slowly setting sun leaving streaks of pink and blue stained with the slowly encroaching touch of night. Stars speckled the darkest corners. Pulling out your polaroid you couldn’t resist snapping a few pictures for Marko. He loved it whenever you brought him any day time photos. They never came out before sunset, you just assumed maybe they were busy elsewhere until late afternoon. If you tried to invite them out during the day they’d each give you a disappointed response.
“Shhiiiiit, kitten,” Paul would sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I mean, we would if we could,” Marko would try to assured you, holding your hands in his. Dwayne would nod along.
“Daytime just isn’t our time.”
David would tilt your chin up with a calm smile. Somehow you just knew whatever it was, he’d tell you when you were ready. “I’m sure you understand, doll. I hope you aren’t too disappointed?”
“Oh! N-No, of course not. It’s just a trip to the museum, I doubt you guys would like it anyway.”
Oh well… Instead of fretting, you tried to savor your peaceful moments, 
This week had already been such a pain. It was a welcome change to just walk through the rolling shores, wading past clumps of bubbly sea foam. Closer to the caves you could spot surfacing tide pools where little sand crabs shuffled just beneath the surface. Greenish anemones shuddered at your tender touch and would retreat within themselves. If you were lucky you spotted a few whole mussel shells! You kept an old bag slung over your shoulder with a towel and a change of clothes, planning to change out of your (print/color) bikini and wrap skirt once the sun had fully gone down. Maybe then you could meet up with the boys for another night out. As you began to approach the rocky coast lines skirted across the abandoned hotel you could hear muffled snickers just barely audible above the ocean’s song.
At first you assumed them to just be maybe a group of tourists, probably drunk off their butts. When you tried to continue walking towards the hotel they grew closer. Footsteps kicked up into a pursuit. When they turned over the outstretched caves you easily recognized the greased up surfers sporting frosted tips, skunk striped hair and shredded up clothing. They continued to chase after you until you had managed to duck into a cave off the edge, but even still they followed. Now you were cornered.
“This isn’t funny anymore, Ricky,” you hissed, trying to cover yourself with your arms. “Look I left alright! I don’t wanna be a part of whatever it is you guys have going on!”
“What, can’t old friends just say hi?” You could see he brought Tank and Munk with him, both sporting grins that you knew meant nothing good. Every time they took a step forward that made you take two more back.
“Yeah right,” Munk tried to agree, shrugging. “Aren’t we friends anymore, Y/N?”
“Don’t you wanna play? We came all this way so we could hang out.” Tank circled next to Ricky. Your heart raced so loud it made your ears hurt. They were cornering you! With rapid head movements you tried to find any alternate pathway that could get you out, but all of them were too high up! Any access to the further cave systems had been smashed to pieces! Your best bet was trying to wedge yourself between the three thugs.
You had to wait. Holding out just until that golden opportunity revealed itself to you. Just as Tank moved slightly further than Munk you found a thin opening. With everything you had, you bottled forward trying to push past. Success! 
Two steps in and you felt yourself torn back by your hair. The sharp sting caused you to shriek, grasping at the base of your scalp in an attempt to provide yourself any semblance of relief. Day light was grown thin. At this point you did everything to fight out of their grasp. Kick, thrash, punch! At one point you swear you caught a good chunk of Ricky’s skin under your nails. He hissed, throwing you against the drenched cave walls. The cold, damp sand beneath your feet felt solid while you tried to pry yourself up. Not this time. Munk pinned you by your arms, snickering at your terror.
“No! Stop it! Get away from me,” You cried, tyring to kick at Ricky. His fingers quickly tore your skirt off, looking down at the wet bikini still clinging to your body.
“Nooo, stop it, get away,” he mocked in a shrill tone. He forced your face up to look at him, his thumb and pointer finger squeezing your chin tightly. “You fuckin’ asked for this, walkin’ around like miss high and mighty!”
“She's just too good for the Surf Nazi’s now, eh Ricky?” Tank chuckled at the suggestion, arms crossed.
“Nah, I don’t think she’s good enough for us, that’s why little miss Y/N left,” Munk added, licking your cheek. The wet appendage dragged across your jawline to your cheek. It was enough to raise the bile in your stomach as you wrenched your face away.
“Well,” Ricky added, just as the sun went down sapping up any lingering light and leaving you in utter darkness. Your sobs echoed in the cave. There was nothing in the darkness, a pair of calloused hands grasping at your legs. When you tried to kick a swift sting crashed into your mouth. The blunt force made your ears ring, a bitter copper taste staining your mouth. Worst of all, you could feel unwelcome fingers prodding at the flesh kept beneath your bikini bottoms. “I bet you she’s good enough for one thing, don’t you think, Y/N? What’s say we give that cute little pussy of yours some play time, hm?”
There was sheer and utter panic. You continued to scream until your throat was shredded. The uncontrollable urge to vomit tempted your stomach when he tried to tease you from over the fabric. You must’ve wiggled out of someone’s grasp because you managed to lift your leg into the air sending a solid kick his way. “You fuck bitch! I’m gonna- wha-? Ahhh! What the fu- AHHHHHHH!”
There was a massive gust of air just past you that swept across. Ricky’s blood curdling screams dissolved into a hideous cacophony of squelching splatters. Munk still had a grasp on your arms, rapidly trying to search for his accomplice. “Ricky? Ricky man, what the fuck happened?! Tank where is he?”
Again another burst of air, but this time an echoing cackle followed. Low, rumbling. It delighted in their panic, or rather, he did. Whatever hidden male lurked in the shadows made quick work of another. Tank’s screams echoed through the cave. Again more sickly sounds of torn flesh followed by an eerie silence. “Tank? Tank answer me, man! What the fuck is this, what's going on?!”
Your own eyes began adjusting to the darkness. You could see a form walking your way, another higher pitched snicker eager to drag you into the same jaws of presumably horrid fates that had taken Ricky and Tank. You tightly shut your eyes, anticipating your inevitable demise.
There was no such occurrence. Finally your arms were released by Munk and his terror swept through the caves. You clung tightly to yourself in the darkness, trembling at the enclosing footsteps you could hear just over his screams.
“Looks like we made it just in time, kitten,” a voice asked clearly. You froze in place. It couldn’t be. 
You still couldn’t make out much, but that heavy scent of aftershave coupled by an ancient musk, like the aged pages of a beloved book told you all you needed to know. Tears stung your eyes. It was almost impossible to breathe through it, blubbering into the arms of a familiar comfort that were already spread to grasp you.
“David! Oh god, David,” You sobbed, crashing into his torso trying to muddle the sickening stench Ricky had left on you.
“Shhh, it’s alright now,” he softly coaxed, the soothing sensation of him petting your hair putting you at ease. “It’s all over.”
You could hear the other boys approaching you, even still you couldn’t see them.
“I told you we’d protect you, kitty-cat,” a laid back tone assured you, placing a hidden hand on your shoulder. Paul.
“I think it’s becoming too dangerous for you out here.” The firm, tender voice of Dwayne spoke up. The sand beneath your body sunk to accommodate his weight. His calloused fingers brushed away loose hair you didn’t even realize was in your face. Another hopped down from… above?
But.. there were no overhead platforms, just cave ceilings caked in stalactites. What had even happened? The jingles of jewelry over leather were followed by a tender face  laying atop your shoulder nestled in the crook of your neck. Curls tickled your cheek, Marko’s lips sending chills over your flesh as he spoke beside your ear.
“If you want, Y/N, you could be with us all the time. If you were one of us, we’d never let things like this happen to you.”
One… One of them? 
“What-,” you tried to ask, still tightly held in David’s arms. You tried to look up, but there was only a thick blackness barely outlined by an ever darker form. “One of- of you? What… are you guys?”
Now you knew why that rolling chuckle earlier sounded so familiar. David’s chest rumbled against you as he couldn’t help but laugh. You could feel the worn leather of his gloves caress your face. His hand traced your features and cradled them tenderly in his palm.
“Would you like to find out?”
The suggestion raised your flesh, chills tricking down the base of your spine as if you were frozen in the grasp of a predator. The darkness, the way they avoided sunlight! The way… the way they came to your rescue. When you needed them most. 
“Y-...,” you halted your answer. This time you really pondered it all. But even still there was a certainty to your thoughts. Your body and soul knew what they wanted. All it took was one little word.
“Yes”
Now you could see him. Well, not all of him. Just a pair of bright, luminescent white eyes wrapped in hellish spirals of red. Then there was another set. And another. Four sets of eyes all ready for you. A sharp pain surged through your neck, but you didn’t dare scream. For each set of eyes there was a following sting. Neck, shoulder, wrist, arm… and then you saw them all perfectly within the dark. The unyielding pain had brought a perfect clarity, and an unexpected stillness within your ribs. You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping away the puddles of blood smeared across David’s face. His grin spread wide, fangs still dripping with freshly drawn rubies that had stained your body red. Now it was your turn to grin, a fresh pair of fangs bared for your new dearest mates to admire in this dank, dark cave.  
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❉ 139 Dreams (Dr. George Huang) Karma
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📑 Table of Contents
Genre: Slice of Life, Drama, Crime ☁
Word Count: 1,907 ☁
Pairing: Reader, Huang ☁
World: Law & Order: SVU ☁
Author’s Note: Tumblr was saying that I posted this twice so I deleted one and it turns out it was an error so now I have to reupload ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: . ☁
You sat the bar nursing a glass of rum on the rocks. Loud noises and the clinking of glasses filled the small room, but you weren’t really paying the other customers any mind. You never did unless there was a paycheck involved. You glanced to the left when a man sat on the stool beside you, looking tired and ragged, and aged beyond his years. After downing the rest of your drink, you rapped your knuckles on the bartop.
The bartender refilled your glass before pouring another and sliding it to the man beside you. “On the house,”
The man nodded his thanks but didn’t reach for the glass, waiting for the bartender to walk away before speaking. “I have a job for you if you’re interested.” A manilla folder hit the bartop in the small gap between the two of you.
You hummed, sliding the folder closer to you before opening it. Inside was an incident report and a photo of a man with sandy brown hair and dead, blue eyes. According to the file, his name was Duane Durnavir and he’s a gun for hire that’s been on the run for the past five years. He was recently brought back into the limelight when his prints were discovered on the dead body of the mayor’s niece.
“High profile,” you tapped the picture. “You know I don’t like cases with this much attention. It’s just begging for trouble.”
Detective Briscoe took a large swig of the alcohol before sighing. “SVU can’t handle this case. It’s above their paygrade.”
“SVU?” You glanced at him, brow raised in question. “What exactly makes this an SVU case?”
“The niece was raped.”
“Durnavir is a creep and a shit human being, but rape? It’s not his M.O.”
“I agree with you.” He sent you a look. “But SVU doesn’t share our sentiments.”
“Does it really matter?” You wondered, finishing off the drink. “No matter what they think he did or didn’t do, they’re still gonna try and catch him.”
“Exactly. I doubt they have what it takes to find him, but while they’re wasting time chasing this scumbag, the rapist is roaming free looking for his next target.”
“I’m confused.” You tapped the photo a couple of times with your index finger. “Who are you asking me to after – Durnavir or the rapist?”
“Both.”
“Both?”
He turned his body to better look at you, lowering his voice. “My gut is telling me that this rapist is related to Durnavir in some way. Find one of them and you’ll find the other.”
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: . ☁
You sat across the street, watching SVU detectives Benson and Stabler as they talked to Durnavir’s former landlady, Margarett Turner. Judging from their expressions, she wasn’t offering up any useful information. The two thanked the woman before getting into their vehicle and driving off.
Once they were out of sight, you cross the street and slipped into the alley, using the fire escape to reach the third floor. The window was cracked open, allowing you to easily slip into the apartment. When you got a look around the bedroom, your brow shot up. Every single article that so much as mentioned Durnavir’s name was crudely taped to the walls, along with a blown-up picture of his face hanging directly above the headboard.
“What a freak,” you muttered, approaching the door and listening for any signs of movement. The front door clicked as it was opened, clicking once more as it slid shut behind her. You quietly opened the door, eyes landing on the older woman as she nervously wrung her hands, muttering under her breath. “Hey, Turner.”
She froze, eyes growing wide. “Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?!”
You hummed, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m looking for Durnavir. Word on the street is that you know where he’s hiding out.”
“I don’t -”
“Cut the shit,” you snapped, quickly closing the distance between the two of you in just a couple of strides and grabbing the front of her shirt in your fist. “I ain’t no cop. I won’t just fake a smile and accept your bullshit answers.”
“Let go of me! Help! Hel -”
You punched her in the gut to shut her up before slamming her against the wall, using your arm across her throat to pin her in place. “Scream again and I’ll make sure you never utter another word. Capeesh?”
She struggled to swallow, keeping her mouth clamped firmly closed.
“Look, I’m trying to help Durnavir.” You lied smoothly. “Those cops are lookin’ for him, too, and if they find him first, he will be put to death. You want that?”
Turner’s blue eyes filled with tears at the thought, her voice low and strained. “His work will never be finished…”
‘Got ya, bitch.’ You nodded. “That’s right. I have to find him before the cops do, Margarett. We can’t let his work die here.”
She looked off to the side, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “The harbor… I followed him to the harbor.”
“I’ll make sure he knows what you’ve done here.”
Her chubby fingers clutched at my shirt. “Please! You have to help him!”
Before you could respond, the door was kicked open and detective Stabler rushed inside, gun drawn. “Police! Show us your hands!”
You clicked your tongue, holding your hands up in surrender.
Margarett looked between you and the two detectives with wide eyes. In a flash, she was screaming like a banshee as she rushed at them. You glanced at the bedroom door.
“Don’t even think about it,” Benson ordered, holding her gun on you as her partner struggled with the older woman.
You definitely considered it, but if you were taken to SVU headquarters, you’d have a chance to glance at their files. “What am I under arrest for, officer?” You wondered, not resisting as she pulled your arms behind your back, slapping the metal cuffs tightly to your skin.
“Assault,” she answered as she patted you down, pulling the switchblade from your boot. “And carrying a concealed weapon.”
“Let go of me, you fraud!!” Turner cried as she struggled against the cuffs, throwing her heavyset body against Stabler to try and knock him off-balance, but the door kept him upright.
“I think your partner needs help,” you commented, watching the pair in amusement.
Benson didn’t answer, pushing you toward the door after them.
With Turner standing directly in front of you, attempting to pull herself back into the apartment despite Stabler pulling her in the opposite direction, you saw an opportunity and took it. You lifted your foot, boot slamming into the woman’s stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs.
Benson slammed you against the wall in response. “Knock it off!”
You scoffed. “Don’t get upset because I helped your partner and you didn’t, officer.”
“It’s detective,” She waited until Turner was out of sight before forcing you out of the apartment where a squad car had pulled up to escort one of you to SVU’s headquarters.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: . ☁
“What’s their deal?” Benson watched you through the one-way glass as you sat in the interrogation room, looking as cool as a cucumber.
Cragen looked up from the thin file in his hands. “Their prints don’t match any on file. Facial recognition couldn’t find a single match, either. They’re an enigma.”
“It’s like they don’t exist…”
You sat calmly in the uncomfortable metal chair, arms folded across your chest. You had been wearing your earpiece at the time of your arrest, so you knew your partner was aware of the commotion. As long as he doesn’t screw it up, Durnavir would be captured without a problem. Then it was up to the SVU detectives to find the rapist and, in turn, you would get paid.
The door swung open and you glanced up at the man that entered – a short Asian man wearing a sweater vest. ‘Who knew sweater vests could be attractive…’
“Hello,” he smiled kindly, taking a seat across from you and setting down a legal pad and a pen. “My name is Dr. Huang.”
“They sent in a shrink, really?” You scoffed in amusement.
“Will you tell me your name?”
“You ran my prints,” you hummed, the corner of your lips quirking up slightly because you knew no results would come back to them.
“I’d like to hear it from you.”
You quirked a brow, leaning forward onto the table as you met his dark eyes. “Don’t you have more important things to worry about? The longer you spend on me, the more likely it is that your little rapist gets away. I’ll even give you a hand – Durnavir ain’t the rapist.”
He shifted, folding his hands on top of the legal pad. “Do you know Duane Durnavir?”
“We’ve crossed paths a few times in the past.” You shrugged, leaning back in the chair and propping your feet up on the corner of the table. “He seems to be pretty popular as of late. Even got himself some groupies. Good for him.”
When his dark eyes met yours, you had to stop yourself from shifting uncomfortably. It was like he was looking directly at your soul, analyzing every movement, every tic, every breath you took. You really didn’t like it. “Tell me, what were you doing at Margarett Turner’s apartment?”
“Is it a crime to visit people now?”
“No, but you did assault her. Will you tell me why?”
“She looked at me funny.” You shrugged, glancing at the clock behind you. Truth be told, you had kicked the bitch as revenge for getting you caught because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Granted, you should have expected her to scream and not been so careless, but it was so much easier just to think it was some kind of karmic retribution.
The small earpiece within your ear buzzed lowly before your partner’s voice came through. “We’re pulling up now,”
You grinned, motioning toward the door with your hand. “Your main suspect is arriving, Dr., but I’m telling you he’s not the rapist you’re looking for.”
Dr. Huang’s brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, someone knocked on the glass and he excused himself before leaving the room. A few minutes passed before Benson entered the room, looking unhappy with the message she was about to deliver.
“You’re free to go,”
You stood up, not sparing her a look as you exited the room. You paused for a moment before approaching the Dr., leaning toward his ear so the others couldn’t hear you. “He may not be the rapist, but his baby brother is. Good luck, doc, don’t get yourself killed.”
When you patted his shoulder, Benson pushed you from behind, giving you a warning. You sent the doc one last smile before heading toward the exit, your eyes locking with Durnavir’s as he was shoved into the waiting cell, his face bloodied and bruised. He didn’t even recognize you, though you understood because it had been three years since you last saw him in person.
Plus his right eye was swollen shut, so that probably didn’t help.
You exited SVU’s headquarters, sliding into the sleek, black car that was waiting for you, your partner sitting in the driver’s seat. He sent you a look when you entered the car, but you said nothing as he started to drive off. For some reason, you couldn’t get that doctor out of your mind.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚: *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: . ☁
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danwhobrowses · 3 years
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AEW Revolution 2021 - Reaction & Review
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Before you say anything, yes I know about the finish.
But while work has prevented me from watching the show live I will still be running down the PPV as I said I would, the card is still stacked and people were mighty excited to see the wrestling so let’s get to it
Spoilers for AEW Revolution 2021, I have done my best to avoid spoilers myself but have not been able to fully escape it, I won’t let my post be the same for someone else
The Buy-In I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the Buy-In should not have 75% promos, especially since the promos are uploaded as the Countdown. It’s the same thing Tony you can fit an entire match in between it, or even recap the segments on the prior Dark - good promos from Miro, Archer and Big Swole in that show and the Butcher & Blade attacked Bear Country, all of which would have relevance to the PPV.
Britt Baker pre-match promo On the cusp of her tag match came out Dr. Britt Baker DMD who lambasted the company for booking ‘Reba’ to tag with her after she sustained an ‘injury’ at the hands of Nyla Rose. Baker acted like her ‘doctor’s note’ should’ve been enough and had Reba walk on stage with a crutch to sell her point. With her partner injured she has been allowed to pick a replacement. Thoughts would’ve obviously gone to one Thea Trinidad but that made the surprise so much better.
Dr Britt Baker (w/ Rebel ‘Reba’ Tanea) & Maki Itoh def. Riho & Thunder Rosa - Pinfall on Rosa by Baker after a Superkick + Crutch Shot Maki Itoh, who was unusually absent from the TJPW PPV - arrived to a loud pop from the crowd and Serpentico just completely losing his shit at ringside. The King of Simps sang her entrance as she usually does as she soaked in the atmosphere with pure joy on her face. The babyfaces quickly made their entrances after as the match was about to kick off. For a tag match it was more of a 2v2 than a tag bout, I mean that in there wasn’t a lot of team moves; whenever the heels felt threatened they would switch partners to regain momentum, but that did allow each woman to face off one another. There were some good interactions between each woman in the bout, Excalibur doing very well to inform the fans that Itoh had history with Riho and Rosa and that she had recently come out of a tag tournament final in TJPW where she and ‘Pink Striker’ Miyu Yamashita fell short to NEO Biishiki-Gun (a faction that involves the heel alter-ego of the Eliminator Tournament’s Mei Suruga). Between the match Rosa and Baker sold the animosity, trading middle fingers while the other was in the corner until they finally got to cross one another. The final stages proved to be entertaining when Itoh and Riho where legal, Rosa and Baker had both rushed the ring to fight when Riho sucker hit Baker on the apron, leading to a trade off in moves between all four women, Rosa got planted with a tornado DDT, but Itoh missed the Flying Kokeshi, Riho almost capitalized but her Shining Wizard was countered by Itoh’s magnificently fluid rolling half crab counter. Riho would make the ropes as both women tagged out after Itoh got Riho with a headbutt and Riho shook off Baker after Rosa broke up her pin from an air raid crash, liquid pinfalls and counters happened after that which was an easy highlight. Reba proved not to be as injured as let on when she jumped the apron but was accidentally socked by Baker after Rosa dodged and hit the DVD, Itoh broke the pin but got thrown out of the ring afterwards, the cameras missing Riho diving at Itoh on the outside. In the ring Baker - having wriggled out of a Fire Thunder Driver - staggered Rosa with a superkick and used the ref’s position to push Rosa towards him near the ropes where Reba cracked Rosa with the crutches as the ref dodged, the damage was enough for Baker to get the 3 count. After the match Riho ensured that Rosa wouldn’t get attacked afterwards as Reba limped on and out the ring, Baker and Itoh leaving the ramp with middle fingers to their opponents
It was a very fun match, camera work wasn’t the best at times but it was still really good. I didn’t expect Itoh and Baker’s twitter buddying to lead to them partnering up but that is the sneaky foreshadowing. The booking of this match should really be stated a bit more, Riho and Rosa are top caliber former champions on their brands, and Itoh and Baker hanged with them mostly to a stalemate. With 2 victories over Rosa though Baker should be on the up, and sadly we may see less of Rosa with NWA coming back (same will probably be said about Serena once her knee recovers until she drops the belt) so it was important that nobody came out looking weak. With Itoh’s US appearance too and the pop (and the resulting appearance on BTE) you can be sure that the Cutest in the World will be seen again.
Main Card Always gotta show my approval of using Brodie’s ‘you know what that means’ to start a show. JR sounded a little hoarse though today, hope he’s okay.
AEW World Tag Championship The Young Bucks def. The Inner Circle [Chris Jericho & MJF (w/ Wardlow)] - Pinfall on Jericho by Matt via Meltzer Driver Jericho came out with his usual Painmaker while MJF continues with his fashion atrocity of a white robe and blue tassels with the scarf print in the middle. The Bucks kept it simple with the black, yellow and pink - which Excalibur noted was designed by Matt’s daughter. The Bucks were definitely aggrieved, shoving the belts in the faces of their opponent before the bell, Jericho though played the mind games by snatching a title from Aubrey to hold it aloft. The bell rang and immediately it was brawling, Bucks pulling their patented dual suicide dive and stereo sharpshooters, interceptor spear and the hanging senton. MJF got some momentum by catching Nick before his apron moonsault as Jericho hit the triangle dropkick, Wardlow choking Nick on the outside while Aubrey was distracted and then hitting the double flapjack before stealing the Bucks’ poses. Matt roared in again but Wardlow again proved to shift momentum to his Inner Circle stablemates, this time pulling the ropes so Matt fell out. The Inner Circle kept things simple and grounded, antagonizing the Bucks whenever they could in hopes they will fall into a mistake, however their confidence left them more open to slipping up and falling into Nick’s hot tag, a lovely springboard destroyer hit two so the Bucks hit the Motor City Machine Guns’ move. MJF tagged Jericho but his Judas Effect was superkicked, Bucks tried Meltzer Driver but MJF grabbed Nick again and Jericho hit the tombstone, leaving Nick to flip with nobody home and leave him prone to the Walls of Jericho, Nick tagged Matt while in the hold but then Matt got locked in the Walls. MJF got 2 for a catch powerbomb but slowed it down by taunting Matt with multiple ‘Suck It!’s, Excalibur humorously begging Matt to just punch him ‘where he is pointing’, the provocation worked though as Matt went for a Meltzer Driver, allowing Jericho to catch Nick mid-flight with a Codebreaker and MJF to roll Matt up for 2. Wardlow distracted Aubrey as Jericho hit Matt’s legs with a bat leading to MJF hitting the Heatseeker, but they got 2 again! The Bucks countered with a baited corner kick and stereo crossbodies in and out of the ring, Wardlow got rocked by a dodged Judas Effect as Nick rolled Jericho for 2, Jericho tries a Lionsault but meets a low Superkick and then a BTE Trigger but MJF breaks the count, eating a Superkick Party (aka Death by Leg Slapping) for his troubles. Jericho gets a Double Superkick and then finished by a Meltzer Driver.
It was a hot opener for sure, the Bucks talking smack to Jericho afterwards. The Inner Circle were wily but relied too much on Wardlow and provoking the Bucks into making mistakes. I am actually surprised to see no Sammy Guevara even at ringside, besides Wardlow no Inner Circle members tried to interfere either, pretty clean affair.
Casino Tag Team Royale Death Triangle [PAC and Rey Fénix] win the Royale to be No. 1 Contenders for the Tag Titles - Fénix last eliminating Jungle Boy After the Bucks came naming the next contender, starting with the Natural Nightmares and Dark Order’s Five and Dime - ironically it was the old guard vs the Nightmare Factory alums - a handshake between 5 and Dustin was not shared when QT clubbed 10 to kick off the match. Dark Order got some great offence but were blindsided by Dustin’s double bulldog Different to regular Casino Royales, entrants played to Royal Rumble rules of one team at a time, the first team to enter being Santana & Ortiz. Five got eliminated first by QT after hitting the ‘That’s Gotta Suck’ (a crossbody to the back of an opponent lying on the ropes) on Ortiz, 10 unable to avenge him as the Sydals came next, Matt hitting the Meteora rather than the Shooting Star attempt like last time. Uno and Grayson came next, Uno hitting that delicious twisting flatliner on Mike Sydal as Santana and Ortiz dumped Mike out of the ring. Santana also completely kicked the taste out of Grayson and 10 soon after with a percussive kick. The Gunn Club came next without Billy, huge amount of faith in Austin and Colten, during which Matt Sydal got thrown over by the Gunns and dumped out by Santana’s big boot, meaning the Sydals were the first team to be eliminated. Intrigue hit after the Pretty Picture (Avalon & Bononi) and the Varsity Blonds came into the match, Austin had dumped Avalon and dual Famassers to Bononi looked like it was gonna eliminate the big man but then QT eliminated the Gunns at once. Ire and confusion was seen on Dustin’s face as QT eliminated his fellow Nightmare Family members, and QT then eliminated himself! A shock break up for sure from one of the most consistent Midcard tag teams in AEW. Bear Country Hell Yeah though hossed their way in, Grayson was able to lift one but got eliminated, Jurassic Express came next as Baltimora’s Tarzan Boy echoed from the arena, JB countered Santana and Ortiz’ tag move to eliminate the latter and then baited Santana to rana him out, Luchasaurus eliminated Bononi and then Griff, assisting Marko to do a slippery rana which Uno sold by running into the ring post to eliminate himself. Butcher and Blade came in fresh to dump Pillman and 10 and end their nights, Jack Evans had also appeared out of nowhere to assist in eliminating 10 as Bear Country brawled with Butcher and Blade, Dustin tried to get involved and was dragged out of the ring apron by Allie. Private Party then came in with the clean black and gold, nearly eliminating JB had Marko not held him up. SCU completely beheaded PP, Bear Country then eliminating Luchasaurus to some boos before being dumped by Butcher just as Death Triangle came in. Lastly was Silver and Reynolds who came to a decent pop, nailing Daniels with a Spin Doctor to start and then Dark Destroyer and Elimination from Isaiah Kassidy, SCU then eliminated Butcher leaving 4 teams left. Fénix bodyscissored Daniels, JB launched Reynolds over the turnbuckle and Kazarian thrown by PAC. Silver, PAC, Fénix and JB was just sublime, Silver only taken out by Fénix’s rope walk pele kick to leave JB on his own. “Jungle Boy in the Death Triangle” was a hell of a call by Excalibur as he eliminated PAC by using his momentum against him. Fénix and JB was just high octane, JB catching Fénix with an anti-air superkick, clothesline and poison rana but as he went to throw Fénix he counters with the 619 rebound heel kick and clotheslined JB out of the ring.
That was a strong ass royale. I will not however forget that Top Flight and FTR were unusually absent from the match (not to mention the Good Brothers, I hoped it’d be Casino Rules with them as the Joker, and TH2). But a lot of good stuff here, surprising split by the Nightmares, Butcher/Blade vs Bear Country feels imminent, Santana and Ortiz as well as SCU were still strong, I feel for Jurassic Express though, they are always inches from the brass ring but never quite getting it, but Death Triangle probably needed it more. Making Fénix the last man was a good decision as well because he had been taking a lot of Ls, now with a trio vs the Bucks it can lead to some interesting concepts, and batshit crazy spots.
Paul Wight Interview Wight sprinkled some hinting at his mystery signing by saying ‘No-one’s gonna outwork him’ as we paused till the next match. DDP and Al Snow were also shown in attendance.
AEW Women’s World Championship Hikaru Shida def. Ryo Mizunami - Pinfall via Corkscrew Knee Strike The promo package used for this match has to get some shine as well because it really built why both women were so motivated to win.
Mizunami came out with the tournament trophy in hand to ensure her clout had not been forgotten, Shida may not have worn the power suit but the kimono and kasa still looked wonderful. A handshake started the match but Shida dodged the lariat attempt. Mizunami shoulder blocked Shida but the champion kipped up impressing Aniki and prompting her to ground her a second time. Mizunami and Shida traded corner chops as Mizunami wasted too much time showboating for the champion to hit the rana and then the ringside knee strike, the Chair launch was caught as Mizunami dumped Shida over the railing. Leg drop was almost countered by the Stretch Muffler but Aniki used her power to continue grounding Shida and wearing her down with submissions, Shida though would grasp momentum with driving her opponent into the corner with her knees and then a missile dropkick, a driven Shida crunched Aniki with a B-Driver on the ramp then a deadlift suplex back into the ring, the champion’s confidence was met with Mizunami’s powerful flurry of strikes, Shida hits a running knee but Mizunami gets back up, she hits the Tamashii but can’t make the cover.  The women return to the handshake strike trading, but Mizunami got the advantage and plants her with an Uranage and Spear, the Guillotine Legdrop gets a close 2 but the champion kicks out again, she rolls out of the Fisherman buster to hit a German but gets hit in the back of the head, Shida hits the Falcon Arrow and kips back up, the Tamashii is blocked but she keeps striking Mizunami, running knee to the back of the head, Falcon Arrow again but could not hook the leg, the next Tamashii countered with a lariat but the following lariat countered with a knee. Shida digs into some Latino Heat with the eye poke and roll up for two, she hits the Tamashii but Aniki rolls her up for an agonizing two. Looked like a botched DDT but Shida hits a third Tamashii and Mizunami kicks out again, Shida opts for a corkscrew knee strike and that gets the three.
Shida’s celebration is cut short by Nyla and Vickie attacking both, Shida prevents Aniki from being Beast Bombed but is then blindsided by Baker and Itoh, Itoh biting Mizunami’s fingers while Nyla and Baker squared off before reaching an understanding. Rosa darted in for the save as Itoh taunted Rosa with an Akanbe (pulling her eyelid down). In the ring Shida offered a hand to Aniki while her opponent bowed to her in respect. If anyone had doubts that Mizunami would be a bad choice for Revolution they were promptly eating their words about now. This was a proper physical women’s bout showing the best of Joshi Strong Style. Shida showed off some newer moves even resorting to a heel move to try and win (Yakuza Heel Shida is an option) and a different finish to the Tamashii while Mizunami continued to brightly shine with power and charisma. The post-match stuff does leave a lot of intrigue too. Baker and Nyla’s alliance of convenience can only go so far when both want the title, it hurts to see Itoh with the heels given how over she is but it made sense in the context that Mizunami eliminated her from the tournament - Itoh fights for Itoh, the heels are just convenience for now. The tournament playing this role shows how important it was for the women’s division too, Rosa and Baker temporarily stepping up to Nyla and Nyla wanting to waste Aniki makes it important. In addition, Big Swole - who noted that she is next due to her title shot before the tournament’s announcement being postponed due to COVID - tweeted a ‘not my business’ kinda tweet during this too, which is telling.
Double or Nothing 2021 is coming May 30th A small promo for Double or Nothing was shown announcing the date.
Pre-Match Segment with Chuck Taylor and Orange Cassidy Before their match with Kip and Miro, Alex Mahvez was going to interview the two men before Miro and Kip jumped both men. Miro telling the camera to ‘Play my music’ as he dragged Chuck to the ramp and ring as he taunted a bleeding Taylor to just say the word to make it stop. Mic in his mouth Chuck instead said ‘ring the damn bell’ and slapped Miro to kick off the bout.
Miro & Kip Sabian (w/ Penelope Ford) def. Chuck Taylor & Orange Cassidy - Submission via Game Over by Miro on Chuck Taylor Miro wastes no time in this match, delivering the hurt to the partnerless Taylor before tagging out to Kip a few times as he taunted Taylor in and out of the ring. Taylor countered Sabian in time for Cassidy to appear on the ramp hurt, Miro slowly stalked the prone Cassidy only to have fallen for his possum as he kipped up and nailed an Orange Punch, tagging in to get a diving DDT for 2 on Kip, the back that was hurt before prevented a Beach Break to give Sabian the advantage while Miro recovered. Chuck is tagged in for a stomp/Beach Break combo, Miro breaks the count after Taylor was decked with a Piledriver. Miro gets involved as Bryce and Penelope argue, the deadly Orange Kicks humor Miro but his Pump Kick is dodged, Miro gets Orange in the gut before he can make a second Orange Punch but hits the Stundog Millionaire on the counter, Penelope stops Orange from running the ropes and provides distraction for Miro to push him, but he knocks Penelope right into the railing - it was a big sell - and takes out Orange but Taylor and Kip are legal. Miro drags Kip from his wife to tag himself in, nearly being beaten by the inside cradle before flooring Taylor with the Matchka kick and the Game Over for the win. Relief soaks the face of Miro as he feels a weight lifted, AEW’s weakest feud apparently over. Overall it was a nice way to finish it, Miro looked incredibly strong in the bout and teases of him discarding Kip were shown. OC was kept strong by the prior assault wearing him down and Taylor showed a lot of guts. It may do Chuck good to be written out for a bit, until Trent comes back at least.
Inner Circle Segment Not accepting that his interview time was taken, Mahvez found a new duo to interview. MJF and Jericho - flanked by Santana and Ortiz - were asked what’s next as Jericho went on a ‘we should’ve won’ tirade. Jericho and MJF hinted at a change as they promoted next week an ‘Inner Circle War Council’. It could indeed mean that someone else is being discarded from the Inner Circle, or someone’s coming in to take Sammy’s old spot.
Big Money Match ‘Hangman’ Adam Page def. ‘Big Money’ Matt Hardy - Pinfall via Buckshot Lariat I must first and foremost admit that I am loving this heel Matt Hardy. The ‘Corporate Leech’ has done really well at being a bane to AEW’s top babyface Cowboy and his Cult Buddies, he’s also driven Private Party to a new and better direction. Hangman’s funny name plates continued with ‘Decided on the Snapper 560Z’ as he came in 6-0 against Hardy’s 3-0 PPV record. Hangman controlled the early parts of the bout with his strength, Matt surviving with his veteran awareness to avoid the Buckshot but not enough to avoid Hangman’s axe handle from the railings. Hangman hurt his arm by having it slammed in the ring post as Hardy honed in on the hand; stretching, biting and crushing it between some steps. Commentary sold that the hand injured was Hangman’s favoured hand, the fact proven when Page’s punch damaged him as well, the Side Effect though was wonderfully countered with a cradle and then a DVD. Hardy evaded Hangman to catch him in a Twist of Fate on the outside, hoping for a Count Out win, Page rolls in at 9 as Hardy seizes control, yanking Hangman from the ropes with a turnbuckle elevated German Suplex. A big moonsault to the outside regains the advantage for Hangman as he follows up with a diving crossbody and sliding lariat, Hardy escapes the Deadeye to get a neckbreaker and then a powerbomb. Hangman counters the Twist of Fate into the Deadeye but Private Party (in ‘Civilian Clothes’) distract the ref to buy Matt time to recover, Hangman decides to take out both men on the sides, he goes for the Buckshot but lands into a Side Effect and Twist of Fate at 2. Shocked, Hardy motions for Private Party to get involved, but Dark Order swarm in to stop them, Hardy clubs Hangman on the apron but the Dark Order catch him and pull him back up for the Buckshot, that lands the 3 count. Hangman has his hand raised as Dark order applaud him, Hangman then walks in to hug the stable, toasting a beer given to him by Colt Cabana.
It was a good match, expected TH2 to also interfere but I guess they didn’t want the match to go on too long. The core purpose of the match was good: Hangman has turned a curve, he’s no longer being manipulated and he has friends in the Dark Order to support him. Where Hardy goes now he’s ‘Broke’ will be an interesting route, perhaps he will have to invest a little wiser or be met with people coming to collect checks he could no longer cash in.
Face of the Revolution Ladder Match Scorpio Sky def. Cody Rhodes (w/ Arn Anderson), Max Caster, Penta El 0M, Lance Archer (w/ Jake ‘The Snake’ Roberts) and Ethan Page AEW went very tongue and cheek by making the prize be a literal Brass Ring, JR even making a joke about it as Sonic the Hedgehog memes hit the internet. Caster started with a rap to get the crowd involved, Archer came in and decked someone at ringside, Sky and Penta had normal entrances while Cody pyro’d it up as the camera panned to Jade Cargill and Red Velvet either side and Archer climbing the apron to stare Cody down. All Ego became All Elite as Ethan Page appeared with a decent pop with a huge smile on his face and a name plate that showed his veteran and championship experience.
The match kicked off all around with the main focus on Archer and Cody renewing their TNT rivalries, Archer was the first to throw a ladder into Scorpio Sky and Page, but ate a Superkick and Slingblade by Penta, Penta then got German Suplexed by Sky before Caster took him out. Caster calls for Jack Evans to bring the Boombox that won him his qualifier but Evans is intercepted by 10 and flattened with a spinebuster, 10 doesn’t collect the Boombox though as he leaves which he will use on Page and Cody - after the two took out Archer but then fought each other. Penta took out Caster and Cody by using the Ladder as a ramp for a senton but Archer then kicks him out, Page cutters and crushes Archer under the ladder, escaping Sky’s TKO to drop Sky on the ladder while Archer was sandwiched between it. Page tries to trap Archer under the ladder but Archer powers it to a slope allowing Penta to backstab Page, Penta then Destroyer’s Cody on a ladder laid on the ring and railing, the match selling Cody’s injured shoulder and take him away from the ring while Caster and Sky tussle to climb the ladder. Caster picks a taller ladder for the high ground but are met by Page and Archer. Sky is the last man on the ladder but Penta pulls him down, his showboating costs him though as Sky recovers, biting his head and pulling Penta down with a neckbreaker. Page and Caster then tussle at the top but Caster pulls Page down with a messy sunset bomb, Sky cracks Caster with a frog splash on the ladder but crosses Archer, Sky almost uses Archer’s launchpad to climb the ladder but is pulled down, he goes for the turnbuckle but is pushed down and sent through another ladder laid on the railing and apron. Penta comes into a hot streak in taking down the remaining four men, but All Ego rakes Penta’s eye to get him off the ladder. Cody then staggers back to the ramp, whipping his opponents with his weight belt with a wincing crack, hurting his arm to land a Cross Rhodes on Page. Cody looks to set up a ladder dive but meets a Suplex by Archer and a Claim to Fame Elbow Drop by Caster. Caster and Penta climb the tall ladder but Archer knocks the ladder down, chokeslamming everything that moves and dropping Caster on a ladder with a Black Out. As Archer makes the climb, Page attacks but Archer no sells it and shoves Page away, Page low blows Archer then hits the Razor’s Edge but then Jake the Snake comes in and hits him with a Short-Arm Clothesline to a big pop before Penta wipes the legend out. Cody kinda messes up the cutter on Penta, giving Penta time to use a Steel Chair on his arm, as he climbs though Sky uses the chair on Penta’s ankle. Sky and Cody climb and trade blows, Sky yanks the injured shoulder, talks smack to Cody before pushing his face off the ladder. With nobody to oppose, Sky grabs the Brass Ring to be the Face of the Revolution.
It may not be AEW’s best ladder match, but it was still highly entertaining. Ethan Page was a good surprise entrant and Cody really did play us with his John Cena threatening rally. Caster also impressed a lot given the circumstances and this darker more heelish Scorpio Sky will be interesting to see as he faces Darby Allin.
Hall of Fame-Worthy Signing is: Christian Cage WWE stole Ben Carter from AEW, so AEW stole Christian from WWE. His new mantra of ‘Out Work Everyone’ is made official as Christian came in, posed, signed a contract and left. It got a big pop from the fans and it was definitely Hall of Fame worthy. I’m not gonna let it upset me that I had hoped for Minoru Suzuki because there is still a Forbidden Door being opened, Christian still has it and we will have to wait and see how AEW use him.
Street Fight Sting & Darby Allin def. Team Tazz [Brian Cage & Ricky Starks] - Pinfall on Starks by Sting via a Scorpion Death Drop I will preface if you didn’t expect the Street Fight to be cinematic then you were pretty blind, Sting can take bumps but AEW are not going to throw caution into the wind with him. Tazz joined commentary to be grilled by JR and Tony as the match faded into an ‘Undisclosed Location’. There were some really nice Lucha Underground-esque transitions and filmwork as Cage and Starks travelled to a boiler room ring while Darby’s entrance was met with Sting-wearing hoodlums and both men travelling to the location - Darby skating onto Sting’s truck to enter at the same time. Cage quickly dominated from the start, dumping Darby and then wasting the ‘Hoodlums’ while Starks pressed Sting against the corner. Darby tried to fight back but Cage dragged Darby around. Sting regained control with a Stinger Splash and Snake Eyes but Darby was thrown through doors as Tazz talked up his boys noting how if Darby can’t compete he’ll have to relinquish his title. Starks and Sting eventually leave the ring and Sting goes straight for the bat, Starks goading the Icon to discard the bat but still gets clubbed and kicked into the brick wall, leaving Starks to search for Cage and Darby. Cage though is going upstairs, carrying Darby in a vertical suplex position while he goes up the stairs and dumping him on a trash can. Sting though arrives to work the numbers advantage, Starks then comes back though, hitting Sting with a pipe and an oil drum, String hurts Starks’ knee by opening a drawer on it and Starks is laid out by Cage’s accidental chair shot. Cage continues to fend off the duo for a bit before being hit by a Fire Extinguisher and a glass before slammed into the table, Starks then uses the 2x4 and focuses on Allin, Darby fights back though, climbing a beam to do a Coffin Drop. However, an Orange Masked man comes in and slams Allin against the beam: Powerhouse Hobbs reminding the duo that Team Tazz do have the numbers advantage as Hook also joins the fight. Sting and Cage both get up to tussle, Sting being driven against a beam as all of Team Tazz sans Starks deal with Darby, swinging him into a window frame before then aiming for Sting. Sting narrows the path to avoid the onslaught, Allin recovering to throw Sting his bat from the upper floors. The Icon goes to town, snapping the bat over Cage’s back and moving to a Shovel, Allin then does a massive elbow drop through Cage as Starks and Sting return to the ring. Starks almost gets the Stinger by baiting his Stinger Splash into an exposed turnbuckle, a spear hits two! Starks tries what looks like a prep for a buckle bomb but Sting rolls out at 2, Sting then hits the Scorpion Death Drop and that is 3. Sting stares down the camera as Tazz leaves commentary in a huff.
In terms of brutality it was a lovely street fight, the finale was a bit abrupt though. Hobbs and Hook kinda disappeared and it was a bit annoying that a ‘Street Fight’ ended in a ring. Props though to cinematography, Sting did not seem uncomfortable and there were some strong spots, Brian Cage looking excellent as well. Allin will look to Scorpio Sky to defend his title and hopefully Team Tazz can find a new target to get their momentum back.
AEW Dynamite Card As a result of the current matches on Revolution 3 matches were announced; Sky and Allin will face this Wednesday for the title, on top of that Matt Jackson will take on Rey Fénix in a build to their tag title match and Shida, Mizunami and Rosa will team to fight Baker, Itoh and Rebel - I guess we’ll be seeing Itoh-chan very soon huh? Nyla noticeably absent though - in six woman tag action, on top of that was the Inner Circle War Council.
AEW World Championship - Exploding Barbed Wire Deathmatch Kenny Omega (w/ Don Callis) def. Jon Moxley - Pinfall via One Winged Angel Okay. Here we go. The ‘Moxley Extermination Contraption’ looked as classic as an Exploding Barbed Wire Deathmatch could look as both men gingerly scouted the ring. Mox was wearing an unusually clean leather studded jacket which Excalibur clarified was a shout out to Onita. Omega’s entrance ditched the dancers (rip to Shida’s bestie) as his entrance video emphasized Kenny holding aloft the world title to get in Moxley’s head. Bryce Remsburg himself was dressed like he was in a COVID treatment camp with the visor, gloves and full body suit, well-prepared for the dangers surrounding him. Hindsight would bring a bad omen to Don Callis as he talked about how ‘carefully designed’ the ring was rigged with explosives and building up the 30 minute countdown, he at the very least got a good line with ‘Gentlemen it’s a good day to die here at Revolution’.
Kenny and Mox sought for the same tactic: push someone face first into the exploding barbed wire. Each men having inch close counters and escapes to avoid the barbed wire, Moxley brought the weapons left outside the ring and head to the ramp to punish Omega with the Barbed Wire Bat and Kendo Stick, Kenny however Blinded Moxley with powder and tossed Moxley into the explosive wire. For my money of what I’ve seen, the explosions were a little tame - though I can understand why for safety. Rattled and twitching, Moxley still kicked out at 2, forcing Kenny to punish him further with a Kendo Stick and trash can to focus on the knee. Kotaro Crusher on the trash can busted Moxley’s head open for 2 so Kenny tries a Figure Four, Moxley though grinds a barbed wire steel chair onto Kenny’s leg and hand, cutting Kenny’s hand open and breaking the hold. Kenny tries the Snap Dragon but Moxley evades, but gets thrown into one of the barbed wire boards on the turnbuckles. Excalibur continuing to be on fire with the quip of a ‘barbed wire halo’ as the bloodied face of Moxley displays and Bryce Remsburg enters perpetual cringe. Kenny is next to taste the explosives though as his Figure Four attempt is kicked away and launches him chest first into the ropes, a shotgun dropkick sends him back first into it for a second go, Moxley pulls out an Exploder, sets Kenny up for another Barbed Wire board, Kenny wriggles to set up the Snap Dragon but Moxley reverses into another pump handle exploder into the board. Moxley nearly blinded by his own blood calls for the Death Rider on the Wired Chair, but Omega sets up the One Winged Angel, Moxley German Suplexes him out and dumps Omega on the chair with a Sidewalk Slam, the wire sticking to Omega’s jeans. Moxley calls to his I Quit Match with Kingston and wraps some wire around his arm, he misses the Lariat and gets hit with one Snap Dragon Suplex, Kenny hits another but Moxley gets back up, V-Trigger blocks the second Barbed Wire Lariat attempt but not the third at the halfway mark.
Omega throws huge caution into the wind by escaping the Paradigm Shift and pushing Moxley and himself into the exploding ropes, his vision affected as he asks Remsburg for water to clean his eyes - it seems to be a worked one though or at least dust. Jabs are shared on the apron between the wired ropes and one of the ‘Triple Hell’ wired boards, Moxley gets advantage and hits the Paradigm Shift onto the boards, however, Omega merely bounced off of it while Moxley is firmly stuck inside the board. As Moxley painfully unhinges himself from the board he pulls out more wire - Kenny also wearing a crimson mask - as he batters Omega in the head. A noise alarms Moxley of time running out, he does the Cactus Piledriver for 2 twice, Omega hits the Low Blow and the Powerbomb for 2, Two V-Triggers on the corner and then the One Winged Angel, 1, 2,
BANG!
Moxley kicked the rope to trigger the explosion, blinding Omega and breaking the count. Moxley has the barbed wire bat but the Good Brothers rush in, as Moxley wails on Gallows, Kenny is handed his own Barbed wire bat, he swings for Moxley and 
BANG! 
the bat itself is charged too! 1, 2, NO! The Good Borthers set up a regular chair, Omega drops him with the One Winged Angel and gets the three.
Omega celebrates but Don reminds them of the countdown, the trio handcuff Moxley’s hands as the hard cam continues to miss Omega’s smack talking. Kenny brutalizes a defenseless Moxley with the non-charged wire baseball bat as the 1 minute warning is issued. Kenny celebrates but Kingston rushes in - against the advice of the Butcher, Blade and Bunny. Kingston tries to break the cuffs but has no time, he tries to drag Moxley but has no time, he takes one last look at Moxley’s face and covers his body over his friend and rival and
Fizzle.
Mostly just a limp pyro show. A heartbreaking technical error which was met with boos as the PPV goes from A+ to A-/B+ simply by this one moment. It hurts to look at, but I think the worst part is that Kingston - being the kayfabe professional he is - sold it. Had he simply got up and had Kenny come out with a ‘gotcha’ it could’ve been salvaged but alas, the PPV ends in a whimper.
The match itself was great though, brutal and bloody, the explosions were a bit small but as I said, I can understand why. The lack of the big explosive finish will be a huge damper on it even with AEW’s attempts to take it on the chin and try and salvage it, if I were TK though I probably would book the next Dynamite to still have the ring rigged - noting that only Kenny and Callis knew how to wire and unwire it, that way we can still have a Chekov’s gun and have it potentially blow at any time during the next Dynamite, we pass off Kingston’s selling with a promo from him saying he had accepted death to save his friend and passed out from it and we either have Kingston, Moxley or maybe even Callis get caught in the ring actually blowing, like have Kenny on the tron pull a killswitch or have Callis think he defused it only to do the opposite. Looking ahead though this does imply that Moxley won’t completely disappear from AEW just yet, he still has the IWGP US title to drop before he goes on paternity leave, he will certainly be sleeping on the couch until the baby comes though XD On top of that we’ve neatly set up Kenny’s next challenger in Kingston, who is not a bad shout at all given that he won Match and Feud of the Year for WON last year.
Conclusion Had the explosion gone off proper, this would be A+ for sure, but given how that was literally the last hurrah built up so much on a highly anticipated bout, I have to give it an A- as a PPV. All memes and criticism aside for that one singular moment the rest of the PPV was amazing. Maki Itoh got double the surprise presence as well as a BTE cameo and is booked for Dynamite to steamroll an amazing debut run, Brian Cage and Lance Archer looked like absolute beasts in spite of defeat (Moxley too), Death Triangle are back in a title picture, Jungle Boy continues to amaze, Shida puts on another banger, Hangman’s slow rise to potentially usurping Omega has begun, Sting entertained in a safe manner, Scorpio Sky returns in a big way, the Bucks retained in a fiery opener and Miro was on a tear essentially squashing Chuck Taylor to get back on track. Not to mention debuts for Christian Cage and Ethan Page (more Cages and Pages, what happens if Brian and Adam face Christian and Ethan? I'm still waiting for Kong vs Kong)
On top of that we give huge props to Excalibur and Tony for essentially carrying the commentary with their knowledge and timing while JR had some voice troubles and Tony Khan for promoting this PPV to be trending worldwide for literal days
My favourite match has to be narrowly the Main Event, it just pips the Women’s title match because of its sold brutality, and I’m not really counting the post-match stuff from it. Nobody wrestled poorly in the entire show as well so aside from one big technical blemish, it was a strong ass show and all the shortcomings it had can easily be bounced back from.
Needs a lil’ more TH2 though...
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nataliedanovelist · 4 years
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GF - Beauty Within the Fallen ch.VI
Summary: Two misfit twins come across an enchanted castle, home of a mysterious beast, and slowly begin to form a strong bond that just might survive through anything. Even evil demons.
AU and artwork belong to the beautiful and very talented @artsycrapfromsai​. Go give her some love, guys!!!
ch.V - ch.VII
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~~~~~~~~~~
The next few days were wonderful. The journal, the beast, and the two children grew closer and closer, becoming good friends. While the children enjoyed including Ford in all things possible, reading and drawing with him, they had a special bond with Stan. So many times the journal watched as the beast played in the snow, making snow angels and snowmen with Dipper and Mabel, or witnessed them playing chess, or heard of their times together from Stan himself, and Ford was so very happy for Stan. Maybe after all these years, he will finally believe he wasn’t a monster.
Stan was always good with kids, but the twins were special. Mabel knitted him the promised red sweater within two days and even blessed it with a kiss, as was tradition. Stan bit his lip and put it on under his cloak and wore it proudly all day, only taking it off in fear of ripping it or ruining it. The evening of their first snowball fight, Stan joined the children at the table and was so hungry that he had forgotten his little secret and buried his face into his soup like an animal, leaving his silverware abandoned by his bowl and making a mess. He suddenly stopped, embarrassed, and grumpily wiped his dripping, furry chin with his knuckles. Dipper and Mabel, however, were not disturbed or digested, as he had predicted they would be. Dipper only smiled at him (he had assumed this was how a canine-like creature would eat) and Mabel grinned and picked up her bowl. “Yeah! Who needs spoons?!” And she drank her soup from the soul with a smile. Dipper did the same. Stan grinned, wiped himself clean, and picked up his bowl and lapped it. The spoons stood up, huffed and stuck their heads up high, and left the dining hall. The next day, in front of the fire as Dipper read a new book out-loud and Mabel worked on an orange sweater, it happened again. Stan made a hostile comment about his appearance. His tone was casual and even a little comedic, but his vocabulary was dark and unappreciated by the children. They exchanged looks before Mabel finally decided to say something. “Stan, I really don’t like that m-word.” “What? Might?” “No,” Mabel laid her knitting down on her lap and gave him a firm yet gentle look; it reminded Stan of his mother. “You’re not… It’s not… I… It’s not what’s on the outside that counts, it’s what’s on the inside!” Mabel finally settled on. “And you’re full of giant, sparkly, dusty, mushy piles of gold!” “Yeah man,” Dipper injected. “Aside from a few hiccups, you’ve been nothing but nice to us. Don’t put yourself down like that. You’re not a monster.” He added firmly. “Not to mention cute and fluffy! Mabel added, ruffling the gray fur on his arm. “For what it’s worth, we think you’re pretty awesome.” Stan was stunned. He swallowed a lump in his throat and turned his head away, trying to hide a sniff as he wiped at his eye. “Aw, Stan,” Mabel cooed. “Dude, are you crying?” Dipper asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “No, I’ve just got something in my eye, that’s all.” Stan grumbled. “Staff’s gotten lazy with the dusting. Wish they did as good a job as you kids with that ballroom.” Mabel and Dipper, who weren’t fooled, smiled with pride, having just finished the ballroom today, and they resumed their activities in peace. Later that evening, when Stan recalled the event as he prepared for bed, Ford laughed (or laughed as much as a journal can). I’ve been telling you the same thing for years. Stan can practically hear his brother’s know-it-all tone. “Yeah, well, it’s different when those two kids say it.” Stan snapped. “They’re not blood.” Uh-huh. “Shut up, Sixer.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Dipper tested the pulley system again while Mabel hitched Waddles up. There was a huge washing well in the castle, and though the servants would have been happy to do laundry, the twins wanted to test their invention in peace; they never did get to see if it was truly better than hand-washing. Mabel laid a trail of corn around the well and Waddles trotted along happily, then the kids sat with a book and waited. Rather than Dipper reading, he had Mabel read in order to practice, none of them having to hear someone coming along and stopping a girl from learning. The clothes inside the barrel were spinning and getting soapy. Dipper and Mabel smiled at that and resumed their reading. Their invention seemed to be working. A soft knock on the door interrupted them and Stan walked into the shack. “Hey kids, just wanted… Holy Moses! What is that?” The beast asked as he looked at the odd contraption. “It’s our washing machine!” Mabel cheered. “Dipper invented it…” “Don’t even try, Mabel.” Dipper teased and lightly shoved her by the shoulder. “It was your idea, I just helped you make it real.” “Wow.” Stan bent his knees and watched the clothes turn and clean themselves in the barrel as Waddles pulled it along the well. “That’s really impressive, kids. Really. Just… wow.” “So,” Dipper said hesitantly. “You don’t think it’s weird?” “Are you kidding? It’s super weird, but weird’s a good thing. I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s unique!” Stan ruffled their hair and smiled kindly down at them. “I’m proud of you little geniuses. You did good. You know what, we should make this a permanent thing, make all the laundry go by faster.” As Mabel smiled, her bottom lip trembled. Dipper looked away with a red face. Apart from Fiddleford, no one had ever praised one of he and Mabel’s inventions. For the first time in his life, Dipper didn’t feel a freak for being himself. ~~~~~~~~~~ Stan was admiring the ballroom again. Those kids did a good job with it. It sparkled and shined like a huge diamond. It looked more lively than it looked in thirty years. Everyone here felt more alive than they had felt in thirty years. Tapping noises could be heard as Soos hopped up to Stan. “Sup, boss?” “Just thinking.” “Ah.” Soos hopped up onto the piano and smiled at Melody, who smiled back, before drawing their attention back to the master of this castle. “Soos, Melody, I’m sorry.” “Oh,” Melody sighed. “It’s alright. It’ll all be over soon, you’ll see, sir. Once the kids’ guardian takes them home they’ll help you find a nice girl that will break the spell.” Stan snorted with a half-smile. “I don’t think that’s gonna work, but I guess you miss all the shots you don’t take.” His ear flickered. He lifted his head. “Hear that?” Soos and Melody listened, but heard nothing. Stan left the ballroom and listened. His advanced hearing picked up… groaning? Punching? Cautious, Stan followed the sound to the old chophouse in the garden. He opened it to find Dipper alone in there, but he was punching a makeshift dummy made out of wood. Stan watched as Dipper’s noodle arms launched little, uncoordinated fists at a t-shaped wooden figure. He smiled and shook his head before emerging from behind the door. “I thought you said you didn’t wanna fight.” Dipper jumped, short of breath, but when he saw Stan he relaxed and kicked the hay-covered floor. “That’s not what I said. I just don’t wanna join the army like all the other boys at school. I still wanna learn how to fight.” “Why?” “Cuz Mabel needs me to!” Dipper snapped. Stan gave him a funny look, a look he couldn’t quite pin as a warning or sympathetic, so Dipper sat against the wall of the shack and explained himself. “I can’t go off to war because Mabel needs me here. If I went away and never came back she would be heartbroken. She can’t lose anything else, she just can’t. She already lost Mom and Dad and Grandpa, if she lost me, her twin, she’d… she’d…” The twelve-year-old rested his forehead on his folded arms and tried to compose himself. “I can’t lose her either. That’s why I have to learn how to fight. We almost died, twice. She needs me to be able to look after her.” “Sounds to be it’s more like you need her. You need to make sure she’s okay.” Stan concluded. Dipper sighed. “Yeah.” Stan smiled and bent his knees to be closer to the boy. “Look, kid, trust me, I might not know much, but I do know a thing or two about twins. You two need each other equally, trust me. Don’t you dare think for a second that’s not true. Also, I think knowing where you’re needed most is a huge part of what being a man is, and right now you’re the best at it I know.” Dipper lifted his head and stared up at the beast, whose eyes sparkled warmly. He smiled and said, “Thanks, Stan.” “Anyways,” He stood up straight and motioned for Dipper to do the same. “Wood makes a crummy opponent. If you really wanna learn, I’ll teach you how to fight.” Dipper stood up and accepted the offer, and so Stan taught him how to give a good punch and dodge pretty well. ~~~~~~~~~~ Mabel was laughing over a story Ford had just written for her. They were having fun together, drawing pictures, playing games, and telling stories. A fun game to play was one they made up where Ford would have Mabel give him a collection of words and he would make up a story from such words. Since he found Dipper far more relatable, Ford was happy to bond with Mabel and get to know her better. She seemed lost in thought as she looked away, and Ford patiently waited for an explanation why. “Ford,” Mabel said quietly. “Fiddleford said books don’t lie; is that true?” Ford’s soul smiled warmly. This book certainly doesn’t lie. What is troubling you, my dear? “Can you see me?” Yes. “Am I ugly?” If Ford had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. Mabel mustered enough courage to look at him and was surprised to see the words not as elegantly printed like before. What makes you ask such a question? Mabel sighed and looked down at her hands in her lap. “Back in my village, there’s a lot of cute boys. Dipper calls me boy-crazy. I used to ask out a lot of guys, I mean, if you want something go and get it, but more and more just laughed at me. Called me a freak for liking to invent and read books. Said my cheeks were too fat and my teeth are too crooked and my hair is too greasy and…” Mabel’s voice cracked and failed her. Mabel, read what I have to say very carefully. Ford instructed. Mabel wiped her stinging eyes to see better. You are the most beautiful thing I have seen in thirty years. You are very beautiful, both inside and out. No one is as kind as you, nor as insightful and delightful to be around. You - and your brother, too, for that matter - have made me feel more alive that I have ever felt, even as a human. So don’t you dare think for one moment that you’re ugly or that something is wrong with you. Mabel’s bottom-lip trembled. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she mumbled, “C-C-Can I h-hug y-y-you?” She only asked because when she hugged the closed book, Ford would be unable to talk. Please do. Mabel carefully closed the journal and hugged him like a teddy bear. Mabel cried, spilling about everything. Not just about the insults, but over the loss of her parents, over Grandpa Shermie’s death, over being lost and scared and possibly never seeing Fiddleford again. Mabel tried not to cry on Ford’s pages, but she noticed a drop falling into the book when she began to pull away and she quickly flicked through the pages to try to find her mistake. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She cried. On a page, Ford quickly wrote, Don’t be sorry. Water does not damage me the way it does other books. I know you must be tired of reading this, but you just reminded me of Stanley. Mabel wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I did?” He used to cry on my open pages, ashamed and overcome with guilt. Still does sometimes. I do not mind; on the contrary, I am glad to be able to wipe your tears away. Mabel smiled, but still cried. She laid the journal open on the table and laid her little head on him, like he was a pillow, as she continued to cry. Out of the corner of her eye, the girl saw more comforting words on the pages. Don’t you worry, my dear. One day a boy will come along and have great interest in you and treat you right. “Th-There’s one boy,” Mabel whimpered, thinking of Gideon, “But he’s creepy. I told him I don’t like him and he won’t quit asking me out.” Shall I tell Stanley and send him in this boy’s direction? Mabel hiccuped a laugh. “N-No, that’s okay.” Regardless, one day your own prince will meet you and love you and love every part of you. Mabel cried a little harder, spilling more tears on the pages that were instantly soaked away. He and Stan were such amazing friends. She would do anything for them. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you and Stan break the curse.” She wept. “And when you’re human again, I give you lots of hugs and wipe away your tears.” Ford’s next words were very scraggly and a little hard to read. That would be lovely. ~~~~~~~~~~ The next day, Mabel was in the ballroom. She and Dipper were done cleaning, but she decided that she should sweep one more time, just in case. As she did, Melody played a soft tune while the girl sang a made-up song. “They'll be human again, oh yes human again, when a girl finally sets them all free. Cheeks a-blooming again, they're assuming again, they'll resume their long-lost joie de vivre. They'll be playing again, holidaying again, and we're praying it's ASAP. They’ll push and they’ll shove, they will all fall in love and finally be human again!” Mabel was soon dancing around with her broom, tapping her shoes and singing and having fun. Dipper and Stan, having just finished another fighting lesson, found her and were amused. Mabel ended with a dip of her broom and said, “Thanks.” “Don’t mention it.” The broom said and hopped away. “Nice to see this room being put to good use.” Stan quipped. “Hey!” Mabel said, getting an idea. “Why don't we use it?! We worked so hard to make it nice, what if we dressed up after dinner and had a dance party together! We can sing and dance together, it’ll be fun!” Stan chuckled and shook his head. “Sweetie, you do not want to hear this voice singing, trust me.” “Aw, c’mon,” Mabel begged. “How about it, Dip-Dip? Am I a genius or what?” “More like or what.” Dipper teased and then had to endure a punch on the shoulder. “But yeah, I think that sounds like fun.” “OH! We can even wear fancy clothes! We are in a castle! It’ll be so much fun! And I bet Ford would want to come!” “You’re crazy, kids,” Stan laughed, but smiled down at them with his hands on his hips. “But I like your gumption.” “I don’t know what that word means, but thank you.” “Alright, alright,” The beast smiled with twinkling eyes and asked, “You want a dance, you’ve got one! We could all use one. Tell Grenda to make you two clothes fit for a prince and princess, and after dinner we’ll all come back here for a dance.” The kids cheered and jumped around, high-fiving and running off to tell Grenda. Stan smiled proudly and left to get ready as well. Grenda wasn’t the only one busy that day. It seemed like all the servants were encouraged by the small makeshift party to make the castle look better. Soos and Wendy worked together to gather a team together to clean the whole castle from top to bottom. Candy had the kitchen fix a delicious meal and Grenda and her girls put forth their best effort for the new clothes. Even Pacifica the mirror found it in here to compliment the kids’ appearances. “Not bad, peasants. You clean up nice.” A dance. Ford wrote while Stan dried his fur, having just emerged from the tub. What a wonderful idea! You always were - dare I say it - a party animal. “Sweet Lord, Sixer,” Stan grumbled as he shook his long gray hair dry with a towel, his muscular chest exploded, free from his usual shirt. “It wasn’t even my idea, it was the kids’.” Stan about to disappear to get dressed, but he read his brother’s message first. Those children mean a lot to you, don’t they? Stan smiled softly and disappeared behind his cover for privacy. “Kinda a stupid question for a genius to ask, but yeah. Yeah, they’re good kids. It’ll… it’ll be hard to say goodbye.” Goodbye? What do you mean? When Stan peeked and saw those words, he sighed and said darkly, “Face it, Ford. Those kids won’t be around much longer. Soon enough that Fiddlenerd guy or whatever is gonna find them and take them home where they belong. They’ll finally be with their family again.” Ford’s pages were blank for awhile as Stan slowly got dressed. For being the “smart” twin, he had failed to think that far ahead. Stanley, they’ll come back. When Stan emerged, fully dressed in all but his top red coat, he shook his head at his brother’s words. “I doubt it. It’s dangerous in the woods. Once they leave they might never find this place again. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you should enjoy having them around while we’ve got a chance.” The sounds of Soos’ approach ended the conversation prematurely. “The little dudes are ready, dudes.” The hammer informed. “Thanks, Soos.” Stan said and picked up Ford and closed him. “Brave faces, Sixer.” Stan stood at the bottom of the stairs with Ford in his right arm and against his chest, his left tucked behind him. He was having a deja vu moment from standing to greet guests of the parties back in the day. Stan could hear giggling from the kids as they readied themselves, and soon walked down, the boy leading the girl. Stan’s jaw dropped, showing his sharp teeth. Dipper had left his hat behind, his hair just long enough to be tied back with a blue ribbon. He wore a strapping blue suit with gold trim, much like Stan’s suit (except his won was red), and he smiled proudly at his sister, at his right arm. Mabel grinned down at her friends, standing in a beautiful pink gown, definitely Grenda’s finest piece of work to date. She had short sleeves that fell off her shoulders and the dress ruffled pleasantly, just the right height. What’s more, her headband was gone and she wore a back-crown of pink flowers that matched her dress. Ford could feel Stan’s chest swelling with pride. Stan smiled as the kids walked down the stairs, and when they touched the floor, Stan bowed to them. Mabel and Dipper let go of each other and bowed low respectfully at their hosts. Then they all burst into giggles over the sophisticated nature and hurried to the ballroom. Not only Melody the piano, but every musical instrument in the castle was playing for the small party. Stan put Ford on a musician’s stand, open, so he could see and talk. Mabel took Dipper by both hands and they began to waltz together. Stan blinked in pleasant marvel that peasants could dance so well without any formal instruction. Holding hands rather than hips and arms, they laughed and spun. Mabel even lifted their held hands and spun Dipper. Stan laughed and Mabel skipped to him and grabbed his paws. “C’mon, don’t hug the wall!” She giggled and pulled him further onto the dancefloor. Stan waltzed with Mabel, Dipper smiling and watching. He was nervous at first, but the kids melted his worries away and Stan happily led Mabel in a dance. Soon she broke away and Dipper hopped in, both men unashamed to dance together. Then Mabel and Dipper danced. The trio were judging each other, taking turns, and then at the climax of the song they all held hands in a circle and spun and twirled until Stan hoisted them up and sat them on his shoulders. They laughed as the music stopped and they could see Ford writing. Bravo! Magnifique! Bravo, Dipper and Mabel! Well done, Stanley! “Another one!” Mabel cheered as the band of self-playing instruments began to play again. Stan put her and Dipper down and Mabel rushed to Ford, tenderly picking him up and closing him. “Here, you should have a turn, too.” Mabel bowed to the book and then hugged him close to her chest and did a simple two-step with him, not wanting to risk any pages flying out or dropping him. Stan smiled at the girl  dancing with his brother and he called, “Looking great, pumpkin!” “Thanks!” Mabel replied. Stan took Dipper’s hands and they danced, this time more crazy and less traditional. Stan even showed the boy his favorite cocky-dance and Dipper laughed and did it, too. For another hour, the party went on. Ford was mostly placed on the music-stand, explaining he liked it best to watch, and soon Mabel’s feet ached and Dipper was short of breath. All of them hot and sweaty, they went out to the huge balcony with Ford to cool down. Stan sat Ford on the polished stone and Dipper and Mabel sat with them, smiling with red cheeks. “Having fun, knuckleheads?” Stan asked. “Yeah,” Mabel breathed with a smile. “Thank you so much! We always have so much fun with you.” Stan ignored the heat in his face by changing the subject. “Who taught you two how to dance, anyway?” “Fiddleford.” Mabel said. “I used to step on his toes a lot and Dip-Dip here had no rhythm.” And she gently elbowed him. Stan, on the other hand, noticed how withdrawn Dipper was and how he was looking out at the forest below them. “What’s the matter, kid?” He asked gently. Dipper didn’t want to ruin the fun, but something heavy was on his heart. He gave Stan a sorrowful look and said, “I miss him. I just wish… I wish we knew if he was okay.” Mabel sagged a little, like a flower with no water, and took his hand. Stan’s ears drooped and he looked away, thinking about the situation. Maybe he should try to find Fiddleford again… wait. “I think I know just the guy that can help.” And he smiled down at the journal. “Ford?” Dipper asked. “Can you tell us where Fiddleford is?” Stan opened the journal. No. The kids were crestfallen again. “Oh.” But I can show you. Ford wrote, searching. Look at my hand. Stan closed the journal and the golden six-fingered hand shined before showing a reflection of Fiddleford. The kids gasped in horror as he was huddled by an old tree, coughing hoarsely, pale and freezing in the snow with a broken arm. Mabel’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Fiddleford! Oh no! He needs help!” “What do we do?!” Dipper asked. Stan had no idea what to do. He opened the journal for an answer and found a map being drawn on a page. On the opposite page, words formed. This will show you the way to your guardian. Take it. “We can’t rip…” But before Dipper could finish, the page fell out of the journal and onto the floor. Ford had intentionally drawn it on the page he could feel falling out. Go. Was the only word left, and it did not fade away. Dipper folded the map and pocketed it in his coat. Stan looked down at Ford, doing some quick thinking. Stan saw no possible way of breaking the curse. No one would ever love Stan. The kids were about to leave and they were never coming back. If he couldn’t break the curse, maybe he could set Ford free, even if it meant they would never see each other again. Stan closed the book and held him out to the children. “Here. Take Stanford with you.” The kids stared at the journal, the golden hand twinkling in the moonlight. “What?!” Mabel shook her head. “We can’t do that! You’re a family, and family sticks together!” “Take him,” Stan said firmly. “You three should have each other. You can always look back and remember me, if you want to.” “No!” Mabel shook her head. “We won’t have to, cuz we’ll see you again! Soon! Once Fiddleford is okay, we’ll come visit you!” “Yeah man,” Dipper jumped in. “What are you acting like it’s goodbye for? We’ll see each other again, don’t worry. Come on, sis, let’s save Fiddleford.” Mabel ran with Dipper away to go save their only family left. Stan watched them go, his brother in his hands. He wasn’t sure what to believe. ~~~~~~~~~~ Gideon pounded the bed with his little chubby fists before settling down. It wasn’t fair! Crazy Old Man McGucket nearly got everyone in town lost in the woods and was now missing, too, all for nothing! Mabel was out there, probably ran away, and Gideon had no way to get to her! The whole thing was stupid, stupid, stupid! The ten-year-old soon relaxed, exhausted from the work, and fell asleep. It was a starry night sky, nothing more, nothing less. Gideon looked around and froze when a collection of stars made a triangle constellation. The constellation shined bright and in a flash appeared a triangle with one eye, a top hat and a bowtie, twirling a cane. “Well, well, Short Stack,” It said to the boy. “Having a little lady trouble, huh?” At once, Gideon’s fears were gone when he thought this thing might actually listen to him. “Yes! Mabel loves me, but something’s always been in the way!” “Right you are, but don’t worry, kid.” The triangle said. “I know exactly where she is! Get this, she and her brother were kidnapped by a dangerous monster, a ferocious beast, in the woods. The castle’s haunted and nearly impossible to find, but you’re destined to take this ugly beast down and save your damsel in distress.” “I KNEW IT!” Gideon cheered and punched the air. “Where’s my marshmallow?!” “Hold it, let’s shake on it, first.” Bill said and held out a hand that was engulfed in blue flames. “If I help you, you gotta agree to help me later in return.” “Deal.” And Gideon shook his hand. When Gideon woke up, in the same hand he shook, was a map as clear as a bell on how to find the monster. He snorted a laugh and got up to gather an angry mob.
~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note: Aw, geez. Lots to say. First off, can you imagine how PISSED I was not only that the live-action movie didn’t have Human Again, but on Disney+ that scene is deleted too! I might be the only one, but I LOVE that whole cleaning musical number and seeing Belle help Beast re-learn how to read. (I decided not to do that since Stan’s been practicing reading for over thirty years.) So, yeah, I put the song in here and adjusted it a bit. And yes, the twins cleaning the ballroom was forever foreshadowing, not just the dancing scene, but what the kids were doing to their new friends.
I wanted to give both kids what we were deprived of in the canon GF show: Dipper and Stan bonding and Ford and Mabel bonding. Yes, we got Boyz Crazy and the Last Mabelcorn, but I’m greedy and say that’s not enough. Also, Mabel’s dress, according to @artsycrapfromsai​, is supposed to be a fusion of her dress in the Northwest Manor and Belle’s dress, which I LOVE! (plz will someone draw it)
And now… yeah, I guess I can’t talk much about the cliffhanger without getting spoilery, huh? All I’ll stress is how many of the townsfolk were tired and cold and frustrated over the failed rescue mission when Gideon was throwing his little tantrum and that factor may play in later. Like why it takes so long to gather up a mob.
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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years
Text
2_28 Pit Fall
There was something inherently creepy about schools after hours.  Once all the teachers had departed their homes and their lives, the children’s voices now vacant from the long empty halls.  Sounds rose about when there should be no utterance; creaks in the tall walls, the rattle of the heating ducts generating a hospitable environment for the lingering abandonment, the scuttle of pages on a desk.  A school was a place meant for inhabitance, it should be alive with laughter, voices, excitement.  It should be filled with life.
But not at night, in the slow treading hours post dusk.
The cafeteria was expansive, with a stage to the opposite end of the kitchen/serving station. For the evening’s janitorial service, all chairs were flipped and set seat down on the table tops.  Three emergency exits were strategically built on three accessible walls of the lunchroom, one was the entrance on the far side of the cafeteria where students filed in from one main hall, and the second was adjacent to the kitchen itself, its bright words EXIT gleam a harsh green in the blue haze of the shade studded room.  
A last pair of escape doors was built into the opposite wall near the performance stage, where the left wing of the sloping ramp descended from the stage top. Hanging high on the wall beside the double doors rested a large tak board, an abundance of notices and cautionary signs pinned with colorful pins.  Most notably, the many pictures of children in black and white, some photo copies in color with information typed beneath the print.  
Yellow light flashes across the deep maroon curtain hanging beside the stage.  The fabric sways in some draft, or reluctance to the light disturbing its rest.  Arthur doesn’t like it.  The fabric reminds him… reminds him of things he wants to forget.  His good hand fumbles around in his pocket, tracing the crinkled edge of the box there.  He moved his torch beam over the surface of the photos slowly.  He twists away from the images and accusations and moves back to the blue figure huddled over a laptop, she and the machine seated on the edge of a long table, the chairs removed from the tables top were returned to the floor.
“None of the kids really have anything in common, only that they’re not over twelve,” Vivi murmurs. She scrolls through her grid block tab filled with information, names, dates; the blue light of the screen slithers across her face and gloved hand.  The touch pad doesn’t work if she wears the gloves, though form fitting they are, and very stylish.  “But I’m able to adjust my search, and find out what days of the month kids have gone missing.  Try and narrow it down.  Hmm?”
Dimitri slipped closer to the table Vivi sat upon, and looked at the screen.  “Five have gone missing since me,” he uttered.  “Five.”
“We haven’t even started,” Vivi says.  “There’s this one area on the edge of town, where people have mentioned seeing kids prior to their disappearance.  District… Flower?  What was that name?  Hold on.”
“Maybe it is the Slender-man then,” Arthur muttered.  He moved away from the high board with the pictures of happy children— once happy, locked now in a time of carefree innocence.  Some of the pictures had come loose from the board from the overuse of pins, and now lay on the floor at the walls base.  “We have about fifteen to twenty minutes.”  He shifts the flashlight beam from his pocket watch to the table, and pockets the watch.  “Did you say you moved here?”
Dimitri stared at where the light hit the table, forming a golden halo.  He barely realized then that the group used color coordinated flashlights.  “Yeah,” he mumbled, distracted.  “When my dad divorced.”  He looked at Arthur, as the other swung his torch away and set the light beneath his chin.  Dimitri winced, Arthur looked creepy with the blue of the moonlight and the cold empty windows as a backdrop.
“Then I will be impetuous and conclude, your brother is half-brother?” said Arthur.  Vivi snapped her head up, her bright glasses glinting under the light of the computer.  She had that look that could kill – if a minor were not present.
Dimitri only nodded, unperturbed.  “Uh-huh. Some kid tried teasing me about it, and I punched them in the face.”
“That’s… very Noble of you,” Vivi says, glancing up at the boy.  “But you shouldn’t hit people at your age.  Wait until you’re older.”  Arthur choked on whatever he was about to say.  “Time, Art?”
“We still have some. I’ll let you know.”  Arthur pulled out his pocket watch anyway, soothing kinked nerves with the slow tick of the moving minute hand.  
“It’s showing up here,” Vivi mentioned, pointing a gloved finger.  She scrolled down the grid she compiled of the updated information ‘gathered.’  She tapped at the keypad and began nodding to herself, a half glimpse to the screen as the text reloaded.  “You’re right.  That given, we know that whatever takes the kids, only takes those who are native born. Clear matches.”
“Adults aren’t— ” Arthur shut his mouth, and jerked his light in the direction of the kitchen, where vague noises echoed from.  A creak and low humming, probably the refrigerator unit kicking into gear.  He took a breath, and tightened his gloved hand into a fist around the fabric of his pants leg.  “Elders don’t seem bothered.  None disappear?”
“Whatever it is, it’s not interested in them,” Vivi reflects.  “It just doesn’t want interference.  Or maybe they are affected but mildly, I dunno, subdued?  They don’t completely forget, the extent is ‘lost interest’?”  Dimitri crossed his arms over his chest and frowned Vivi’s way, but she took no notice; she was fully engrossed with the laptop.  She pressed a fist to her lips and thought, humming softly to herself.  “It can’t worry over adults getting suspicious, awful as that sounds it won’t risk removing those past their teen years.  What would its motive be in taking the children then?”
Dimitri climbed up on top of the table and stood before the computer, and Vivi bathed in the hazy light.  “You still think there’s something unnatural going on around here, huh?” he hissed, fists clenched at his sides.
“We’re open minded,” Vivi states, looking up at him.  “What’d you say?  ‘The authorities in charge of finding the kids gave up because they are the abductors?’ It’s possible.”  She began typing, fast, and raised her shoulders.  “Maybe the parents forget because there’s something in the water?  A sedative? Those are all possibilities.  Is that what you want to hear?”
Arthur slunk back over to the table, the light of his torch aimed at his shoes.  “We don’t seem affected.”
Vivi snaps at him, “When do we ever drink water?”
Arthur paused, as if he never considered that fact.  “Oh.  Right.”
Dimitri sighed, and brought his hands up to his head and tugged at his hair.  He supposed it didn’t matter what they thought, as long as they were looking.  The Mystery Skulls were his only hope.  Still, he wished Lewis was back from wherever he had gone.  It worried him when Vivi and Arthur never mentioned him, and when/if they did it felt similar to how adults lie – negotiating lies- to sooth upset toddlers.  Dimitri didn’t like to be treated like a kid, they didn’t give him enough credit. Lewis did.  “Where do we go, then?” Dimitri mumbled.
Vivi fumbled with the orphaned glove that lay on her lap, and studied the screen.  Dimitri edged forward and saw the familiar layout of Google maps.  Vivi was frowning.  “I only have an obscure lead on—” She glanced Arthur’s way, when Arthur spun around and held up a hand.  For a tense moment they were quiet as Arthur tilt his head down and listened.  Without a word, he motioned hastily for the two at the table to move.  Vivi shut the laptop gently and she slings off her backpack.
Not long after they had everything gathered – the laptop packed away, the chairs replaced atop the table – the three were mobile and ready to exit.  Before Arthur could open the exit door, Mystery’s clinking paws scuttled from the darkness, he gave a few gruff barks as he darted by the group and kept going, weaving among the table legs.  Arthur caught Dimitri by the shoulder and nudged the smaller figure towards Mystery’s flashing outline.  Rather run all the way around a table, Dimitri dropped to his hands and knees and crawled after the dog.  
Arthur followed the path of the two with his flashlight. “Shit,” he cursed.  “We should still have time.”
“D!” Vivi hissed. “Let me and Arthur go first.”  She followed close behind Dimitri, her flashlight darting around seeking Mystery.  “The curfew might have made the response faster.  Focus on keeping our heads, and not get caught.  That would very much not work out in our favor.  Stay close Dimitri.”  As the group moved, Mystery picked up the pace, his shallow ‘ruffs’ gave indication of where he had winked out through the shadows.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Arthur hissed.  “Why do I ever let you talk me into this?  I know the outcomes gonna be bad.  I never learn.”  
“You’re a supportive friend,” Vivi reminds.  “And you wouldn’t forgive yourself if something bad happened to us.”  Arthur gave a rather theatrical groan.
They reach one exit on the far side of the cafeteria, the doors locked with a heavy chain and padlock.  Vivi takes Arthur’s flashlight as Arthur begins to pad down his pants pockets.
Mystery yips at him.
“I’m hurrying.  Don’t rush me.”  Arthur locates his lock pick kit and selects the sharp along with a toggle, he clenched the sharp tool between his teeth and grips the padlock in his good hand.  The tool clicks in the mechanism, but he lets out a low grunt through his teeth. “Damn.”
“Hold the lights, D.” Vivi passes the flashlights over to Dimitri, then takes Arthur’s arm and elbow between her hands.  Arthur mutters a ‘thanks’ as he spun the point in the keyhole of the padlock.  When the padlock clicks, Arthur rips the chain away.  Vivi jumps up, pulling the deadbolt in the top of the door free and charges forward, shoving the door latch and forces one door open.  “Stay behind me.”
“K?” Dimitri mumbles, as Vivi tugs his arm along.  Dimitri hands one torch to Vivi, and aims his light onto the polished surface of the floor.  Behind them, Arthur tossed his tools into the case and shoved it in his pocket.  “But what happens if we get caught?”  His face warmed a bit when Vivi gripped his free hand. It was beyond embarrassing, but he kind of didn’t mind.  
Vivi gave a little laugh but didn’t look back at him.  “Caught? Who gets caught?” she chuckled.
“Oh?”  Dimitri decided Vivi was cool.  She went on crazy adventures, broke into buildings at night, evaded the police, and she had an awesome dog.  Why couldn’t more girls be like her?
Mystery hung back as Arthur dragged the door shut.  “If they find that chain there,” Arthur grumbled.  Mystery yipped at him.  “Hey, wait! You got the light!  Hold on!”
“Think you can keep up?” Vivi whispered.  She released Dimitri’s hand.  “Don’t fall behind.  Arthur! Hurry!  You‘re setting a bad example.”
“You’re making too much noise.” hissed the mechanic.  He fell in pace behind Dimitri, Mystery to his side bouncing and yapping.  The flashlights weren’t necessary to guide them, even if they were not exploring a linear hall, moonlight drenched the row of windows beside them.  Sleek polished floors reflected streaks of silver across white washed walls, and the redirected light flooded the interior corridor. The walls that concealed the classrooms were decorated typical Grade school style, with numerous large boards tacked to the plaster and each filled with colorful pictures, typed and written essay papers.  Arthur could see out onto the open road ventured over earlier that day, the bright lawns coated in crystalizing frost in the falling temperature.  Another patrol car went by, a head lamp flashed across the large windows—
“Duck!”  Arthur threw himself to the floor.
Vivi snagged Dimitri before he could take off, and slid down to her knees as Arthur belly flopped. On the walls of pictures and schoolwork, the light slid by tracing the dark outlines of pages, a rogue breeze rustled a few papers at their base.  Vivi waits and watched the light gingerly scan over the wall, as if inspecting the labors of children. “Let’s keep moving,” she murmurs.  “Stay low.  There should be doors at the end of the hall.”
“At the end,” Arthur cues in.  “Might be an office, or library, some sort of intersection?  Dimitri, you know where you are?”
The boy nods, though the others can’t see it in the dark space below the window.  “This is the Kinder side.  The doors at the end here lead out to the playground.  Heh, I feel like a criminal.”
“Sorry about that,” Vivi hums.  “I wasn’t really thinking about how bad of a mess we can be in, if we get caught with you.”
“I told you!” Arthur ranted, throwing his arm up. “You never listen!”  His metal arm made a dull thump when it came down, the glove he wore dampening its odd sounds.
“I take everything you say into consideration,” Vivi says, gently.  “Besides, were not novices, we won’t get caught.”  Arthur just growled to himself, muttering what sounded like ‘coats‘.  “When we get outside, we’ll need to stick to the shadows and time when it’s clear.  We can’t go back to the van right away.  We have to be strategic about this.”
“You do this often?” Dimitri whispered.
Arthur muttered, growled something.  “That’s… confidential.”  Dimitri didn’t ask anymore after that.
The large doors were in an alcove, where the group could stand without too much concern of being seen from the road, as Arthur picked the lock.  Once the doors were open, Dimitri cast a last glance to the hall. He’d never been in this section before, except under special occasions.  He shook himself and turned to join the others in the brisk night.
It’s cold.  Colder than the night before, the sky absolutely baron of the clouds from the evening past.  Dimitri watches his breath fades in the air.  The school had been shielded and heated from the night after hours ended, and now he missed it.  He didn’t care if they got caught.  As long as he could be warm for a bit longer; ride in a patrol car.  But… his brother might be cold too.  Wherever he was, he would be scared too, and there was no way of knowing if he was warm, safe, comfortable.  They couldn’t stop, not when they were close.  He could feel it this time.
“Give me the light.” Vivi took the torch from Dimitri and shut it off.  “Stay close to Mystery, all right?  And stay in the shadows.”
“I know how to sneak,” Dimitri grumbles.  “Only idiots get spotted.”  Arthur startles him when he begins coughing, and it’s hard to decide if he mucked up another off key comment or if the sharp air was hurting his throat.
Save for Mystery, who trots out and around to spot for on foot security, the group hugs the tall brick walls.  They hike around the shielded side of the school, among thick shrubs and decorative cement barriers that align ramps, always in the presence of steps.  The entire school was contained within walls, and any outside corridors cutting through were barred by tall metal gates. Refrozen ice from the night before glittered in tall standing lamps, its crusty surface crunched under foot.  In some areas there was evidence of children’s play, snow angles and dark soil exposed where frost was scooped up.
“It’s really cold,” Dimitri chattered, as they passed by another corner.  By then they had made it the edge of the football field, where they had crossed an hour earlier on their wild mission for references. Encircling the entirety of the field and school grounds was a chain-link fence and beyond that awaited the neighborhoods, a few homes visible with their bright friendly light glowing in window cutouts.  He’d come past this corner many times with his friends in the past, when it was still safe to hike up to the school alone.  He wondered if the disturbed ice was caused by kids that had been born in the town. “My teachers say it gets that way, ‘cause of the sky being cloudless.  Something about clouds trapping heat.”
Arthur gripped his bad shoulder as he stepped around the corner.  “Yeah,” he mutters.  “Heat can’t escape, that’s why.  It doesn’t make a lot of sense unless you know the science behind it, because it….” He let his voice trail off, and caught Vivi by the shoulder of her coat. “We should call it a night.”
Vivi turned to look at Arthur, as withdrew his arm to hold his shoulder.  “Okay.  I know, I know,” she said, voice misting.  She reached her hands up tugging at the straps of her backpack, and then turned to where Dimitri was poised beside the wall, staring out.  There was something she needed to tell Dimitri, something important, but the thought had dropped from her mind.  Vivi sighed and touched her glasses.  “Well… we can leave you off at your house for the night.  How does that sound?”  Wasn’t his father upset?  “No-no.  His father forgot.”
Dimitri glanced at Vivi.  “I can’t go back,” he mutters.  “I tried, but… I can’t.  Not until…. Can we start looking?  Now? Why can’t we start?”  He stepped up to Vivi and stared at her. “Tonight?  Looking?  It’s so cold… my brother, what if he’s cold?”
Vivi draws back, and glances to Arthur.  “We can’t,” she says.  Arthur shrugs, and sticks his hands into his pockets.  “We’re not ready, and it can be dangerous searching the woods, especially at night.”
Dimitri felt something in him tighten painfully.  “When will you be ready?  When will the time be right!  I’m done waiting!”  Mystery was sniffing around near them, but when Dimitri began screaming the dog raised his head and perked his ears.  “Just show me where.”
“Just calm down.” Vivi hands over the flashlight and Dimitri, hesitant, takes it.  The bulb is still warm, and he presses it to his cheek.  “I have an idea where we’ll start, but in the morning when its warmer and we get some supplies.”  She glances Arthur’s way when he flicks the lighter and raises the glimmering flame to his cigarette.  “Just one more day.  What— ” She cuts off when Dimitri wrenches out of her grip, the torch held beside him. Dimitri shakes his head vigorously.
“No.  No-no-no, don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, voice low. “Don’t you dare say.”
Vivi takes another step in his direction, but stops and clasps her hands in front of her lap. “What if you just tried accepting that….”
“NO!” Dimitri’s voice echoes off the tall black wall and shoots across the vacant field.  “I don’t CARE! what anyone says!  I know my brother’s out there!  Someone stole him, so he has to be SOMEWHERE!  If you won’t— ” he has to stop, the tears constrict his throat and he‘s choking on the words, the memories.  His little brother, gone from his bed.  “Fuck it!”  He thrusts the flashlight down, causing both Arthur and Vivi to jerk when it cracks against the frozen soil.  Dimitri stifles a sob as he tears across the field.
Mystery stares the way Dimitri heads, and glances to his companions.  He lowers one ear and tilts his head.
“Shit, that’s really done it.”  Arthur sticks the cigarette between his lips and turns to Vivi.  “I told you, right?  This was a bad deal from the get go.  Just… you should’ve waited.”  He starts in the direction of Dimtiri’s fading form, halfway across the football field. Vivi doesn’t move, except to raise a hand to her eyes.
“You should go after them, Mystery.”  Vivi turns and approaches the wall where Dimitri had been standing, and uses a hand to keep herself stationed and upright.  “You know you should.  Please. Go.”
Mystery turns away from Vivi, but dithers back. He doesn’t want to leave her, but Dimitri could just keep running from them, become lost from them for good.  It wasn’t safe now.  He gives his head a shake and cuts over the frost coated landscape, flurries shredded between his paws.  Of course he couldn’t abandon the boy now.  But Mystery almost feared most leaving Vivi alone for too long in her current state. Not this time.  It would be all right.  Not like… not like before.
His face hurt as he ran.  Tears streaking, skin pummeled by the merciless frigid air, and his throat was full of cold needles.  He ran until he felt like his lungs were bursting and his breath tasted salty, like blood gushed forth.  Still he ran, ran away from it all.  His problems, the things he couldn’t fix, the people that gave up on him.  Flee his sorrow.  But where was he to go?  Would there be answers or more lies, hidden by kindness?  How was he to tell friends from those that would fail him?  He couldn’t do it anymore.  One time he had fought, then he was running – nothing ever worked for him.  Never!
A bark.  Some stray out of nowhere, plowed right at his feet.  Dimitri barely caught himself as he staggered, the dog had lunged in close but not directly under him, only startling close.  It was enough to upset his balance and he toppled into the cold ice and grass of a lawn.  He lay on his side a moment half crying and wheezing, he couldn’t wrestle control over his breathing, could only lament and be miserable.
Mystery stood nearby, his own breath misting from the exertion.  He gave a low yip and padded forward to press his nose into Dimitri’s shoulder.  Come on, get up.  He blew warm breath on Dimitri’s ears and nuzzled his face.
“No!  Get away!” Dimitri tried to swat at the mutt, but Mystery only came back and snagged his shoulder sleeve and growled. “I said go ‘way!”  He shoved Mystery by his shoulders, and in the same motion Dimitri rolled upright onto his knees.  “Stop!  I mean it! I‘m not playing!”
Mystery tugged at his shoulder and maneuvered himself aside as Dimitri tried in vain to remove the dogs jaws with his hands.  Mystery snorted and pulled harder, the hound accented his desires with more low snarls, gentle snarls that were not hostile but demanded attention.  Dimitri stopped fighting and just stares as Mystery holds his sleeve.  After a short while, Mystery released Dimitri’s coat and turns away. He took a few steps toward a bright slice of sidewalk and looked back, yellow spectacles glinting under the moonlight.
“They won’t help me,” Dimitri mumbled.  
Mystery yipped.  Oddly, the sound had a resonance akin to “come along, now.”  But that would’ve been weird.  It was just cold and Dimitri’s ears ached.  With another bark, Mystery began to walk away.  The dog paced a few yards from Dimitri, throwing his head back with another series of yelps and hoots, not like the sounds of a dog.  He keeps this up, until Dimitri managed to his feet and plodded into the steady pace his escort set.
Dimitri stumbled a bit on the slick sidewalk as he followed, and worked to brush the glittery patches of cold from his coat.  The coat Vivi had bought him.  “I want my brother back.”  Mystery whines.  The fringes of moonbeams punch through the tall gnarled trees above, accenting his white fur with silver highlights and maroon flashes.  “Dad didn’t like it.”  Mystery slowed his pace and let Dimitri catch up to him.  “I thought maybe that’s why he didn’t care.  But I know he would, I know he would’ve.  He’s not like that.”  Dimitri rubbed away the icy tears drying to his cheeks.  “He just doesn’t understand!”  He caught himself on Mystery before he could fall again, then noticed the sidewalk that they were now on.  “Where we going?”
The only answer was a dismissive gurgle as Mystery padded off, his pace picking up.  Dimitri knew where they were, and he felt some small warmth return, a bit of hope restore itself.  The van was ahead, parked in front of the empty lot overgrown with brown weeds and trees. He hadn’t thought about returning, hadn’t given a second thought to just waiting.  He just… it was too much to think about, and tears edged at his eyes again. He didn’t know why, it didn’t help his current situation any small amount.  He was still at square one.
Mystery trotted ahead to the vans back and began sniffing around the sides.  “Is Lewis here?” Dimitri questions, as he stares up at the tall, imposing outline of the vehicle.  The van had a sense of isolation, separate from the night.  It seemed to devour the shadows, yet there were no trees near the road to cast shrouds of blues and blacks.  “He should be back, shouldn’t he?”  Dimitri hurried to the back door and knocked.  “Lew?”
No answer.  That didn’t come as a surprise, but it was disappointing.
“Is he around?” Dimitri asked, even as he knocked on the doors again; the hollow banging echoed within the metal walls. Even the resonance felt cut off from the outer environment.  “Lew? Are you there?  It’s me, Dimitri!”  He tried the door handle and found it unlocked.  “Mystery?”  Dimitri pulled the door open and peered into the wall of black that hovered before them. “Hello?”  Dimitri waited, listening and trying to perceive the impenetrable wall.  He stepped aside when Mystery wriggled beside his leg and sprang up into the interior, the black hung low and soaked into Mystery’s white fur.  “Is… someone there?”
Though Dimitri’s sight was limited, he could still make out that Mystery’s behavior was odd.  The dog hesitates and listens carefully, ears aimed forward, focused on an unknown factor.  Mystery sniffs at the air, then carefully, sets his raised paw, the one still bandaged, down.  He moves further, deeper, into the dark gloom, fading out of sight.
Dimitri scrambles to climb up after the dog, but first manages to stumble sideways when his legs get tangled up in the thick blankets left along the wall.  “Stupid,” the boy mutters, as he uses a ledge or something to push himself back up. “Lewis?”  The air inside the van is ten times worse than the open air, so cold it penetrated his coat and nearly burned his skin.  Dimitri shudders and begins to feel along the wall.  He knows they had a few flashlights hidden around, but he never paid attention to where the spares were kept.  Some light would help.  “Mystery? Where’d you go?”  His voice cracked.  The dog was nowhere, he couldn’t even detect where Mystery might be and Dimitri worried he’d wind up falling on top of him.  He tries whistling.  “Mystery puppy.  C’mere. This is no time to hide.”
Something in the dark swatted at him, and Dimitri gave a little cry as he fought it off.  He was nearly to the point of hysteric shouts, before he was backed away from the slumping curtain.  He laughed a little, uneasy and shaken.  “I forgot about that.” He stands motionless staring now at the blanket half hanging from the ceiling.  The gravity of his situation coiled about his mind.  No one was in the van, he was alone.  Lewis had not been here at all.
A small bark was given by Mystery, prompting Dimitri to locate the dog over at the back doors?  Fresh light from the moon slipped unrestrained through the interior of the van, but the details were still hazy and crudely molded.  Some bags and supplies were stacked on one side of the van, blankets piled by the other wall.  At the doors stood Mystery’s bright outline, he barked into the night with some little urgency and the little spot of his tail wagged cheerily.
“Is someone out there?  Lewis?”  Dimitri asked.  He raced across the floor and darted out, past Mystery as he slipped aside.  
Dimitri took a few steps out onto the road, and Mystery waited until he began to inspect his surroundings for any indication of a friendly face.  Mystery padded away from the door, and took a hold of the blankets rumpled across the floor. Dimitri was still calling out into the night with some rising desperation, while Mystery worked to uncover the dark shape sculpted in the shadows.  He moves around the side and holds his head back, high, in part scrutinizing the dark container, and a small trace of reluctance in his demeanor.  
For Dimitri.  
Mystery expels a misty whine, and begins pawing at the edge of the box, timidly, as if dipping his toes into thick paints.
There was no one outside.  At least, not from what Dimitri could see.  Maybe there was someone, the same person that stole children. He gulped down another hiccup, but felt his face twisting with the sickness of sorrow.  They could be watching him right now, aware that he knew too much.  He must be silenced.  No one would know, he would soon be forgotten – for real this time.  The people he once loved, believed in, none of them would care. Mystery wouldn’t leave him to danger, but Mystery wasn’t with him right now.  What if the dog was trying to warn him, and Dimitri completely missed it?
He felt an illness twist in his guts, rooted by too much of stress and sorrow, and no remedies.  It scooped up his insides and ripped them all out, his heart and soul. No one would help.  No one could understand.  He was alone.
“I just wanted my brother back.”  Dimitri squatted down and wrapped his arms tightly around his legs and shook, he tried to bury it in his chest but it lurched free. Pain and guilt, serials murderers of hope and dreams.  “Give him back.  Please.” His hands and nose ached, his fingers were numb.  Everything was cold and sharp on his nerves.  He didn’t care if he fell asleep here and never woke up, or if a speeding car were to careen by.  Anything would be better than the punishment of being forgotten.  “I loved him.  I swear I did.  He looked up to me, I was important….”
“Dimitri?” a voice called.  “What’re doing here?”
The odd scratchiness made it tricky to identify, but Dimitri knew the tone of that voice.  He tried to uncoil and stand all at once, and instead fell onto his side as he twisted around on the icy road.  “Lewis!”
“Y-yeah,” said the figure, slipping out of the van. He was zipping up his coat and teetering on his feet, looking away, around.  “Right… quick question.”  He adjusted his voice, working through the hoarseness.  Lewis gave the area a brief scan then turned back to Dimitri, raising a hand to his face. “Where… are we?”  He recoiled when Dimitri gave a shrill cry and lunged at him. Lewis put his arms out to catch the boy, but Dimitri flew right through his palms and wrapped himself around Lewis’ legs.
“I want my brother!  I want to look for my brother!” screamed the boy.
“Qué pasa en el mundo?  Que… what’s wrong?”  Lewis couldn’t pry Dimitri free, and he wasn’t going to try. “Talk to me, Dimitri.  Where are the others?”
“They won’t help me look!” Dimitri tightened his arms around Lewis, his last lifeline.  “Vivi. She was… she was gonna say it.  My brother’s not dead.  My brother’s not dead!  He’s just missing!”  Dimitri buried his face into Lewis’ leg, and began to quiet when Lewis set his hands on his back.  “He’s not. You believe me.  Don’t you?” he mumbled.
Lewis would’ve sighed if he could.  He didn’t understand anything; this conversation Dimitri had with Vivi, or where Vivi was for that matter.  It was too surreal, too sudden, he wasn’t ready for this.  There was just Mystery as a guide, but Mystery was in distress too, as much as the dog would allow Lewis to take from.
“Lew.  Your glasses.”  Lewis jerked his head up, and found Arthur placed not far from him.  As if to emphasize the point, Arthur raised a hand to his face.
And Arthur was smoking.
“I didn’t,” Lewis began, and rephrased his sentence. He wanted to move away, get away from Arthur, but something was… off.  Very off.  “I didn’t hear you.”
“Uh huh.”  Arthur took another draw from the white stick, and slanted his eyes a bit. “Vi and I were gonna call it a night… uh, Dimitri.  Aren’t you tired?”  He leaned a little over, towards the boy.  Dimitri just mumbled and whimpered into Lewis’ leg.  
“Where’s Vivi?” Lewis inquired.  To his side, Mystery poked his head out from the interior of the van and fixed on Arthur.
“Well, she didn’t want to run,” Arthur reasoned. “Is the van still cold?”  He stepped a little closer to Lewis as he puffed at his cigarette.
The sensation was unsettling.  It was Arthur in every aspect, but parts of him were shut off.  His usual writhing aura of indecision, doubt, was diluted with something unfamiliar. There was no mediating presence, only a null absorbing warmth and drive, persona defined.  Lewis was struggling to reach out and understand the coldness, the vague indifference, but it was impossible to grasp.  And for Lewis, he didn’t want to realize it.
“Dimitri,” Lewis says.  “Go find me a big stick.  Real quick.”
“What?  Why?” He loosens his hold and tries to look up at Lewis, but Lewis moves out of his way, leaving only a hand on his shoulder as he swings around and towards Arthur.
“It’s got them too,” Lewis supplies.  “We’re gonna knock some sense into Arthur.”  At that comment, a little squeal spills from the boy and he races off.  Mystery lunges out of the van and follows, yipping.
That little cry almost startled Lewis, it was a amost too happy for comfort.  He’s brought back to place and time, when Arthur exhales a mouthful of mist and smoke. Lewis glides back and settles. “Arthur,” he hisses.
“I’m trying to… fix this,” the lean figure mutters. “It’s complicated, ah.  I told you guys we shouldn’t have come.  I told you!  Didn’t I?” He shakes his head and brings the cigarette back to his lips.  He’s not watching Lewis.  “‘Hey,’ I say.  ‘Let’s try something else.’  No one ever listens to me!”
“That’s… not true,” Lewis says.  He takes a step back, out of Arthur’s range.  “I can’t reason with you like this.”  It didn’t suit Lewis to be timid, but he was frazzled from his dormancy.  Time was needed to refocus, dampen his sensory, the pitch of the colors swirling, but answers!   He wanted answers and Arthur… Arthur was the last person Lewis could ask.  Rather pursue the ghost, Arthur moved away towards the open back of the van.  Lewis slung forward and jerked Arthur back by grabbing at the compromised shoulder. “You need to talk to me.”
Arthur staggers away, one arm latched at his bad shoulder. “That doesn’t always work.  Does it?”  When Lewis moves forward to pull him back, Arthur exhales a cloud of smoke. Some of its ash, most of its breath, but it nips at Lewis like static.  Interference.  “I don‘t know how to approach you.”
“Arthur.”
“Seem like every time I wake up, there’s you.” Arthur gestured with his arms, and glowers at Lewis.  The ghost doesn’t rebuke the comment.  “I hate the dark, I hate sleeping… ‘coz your always there.”
“Art.”
“Even before you made that spook fun house!  You were there!  You never left me!  You just… won’t get out of my head.”  Arthur moves to the doors but stops.  Lewis hasn’t budged from where he stands, biding time.  Arthur brings the cigarette to his lips.  When he exhales, that’s when Lewis will move.  “Shouldn’t you be concerned about Vivi?”  Arthur coughed on the smoke as he spoke, “I just kind of left her— ” The sentence ends when Lewis dives forward, grabbing the smaller figure by the shoulders.  Arthur gags as he’s shoved onto the floorboard of the van, and held there as Lewis reaches off to the side for the backpacks.  
“You were probably going for a Dispel,” Lewis says, as he works to get a bag open.  “But I can’t trust you, not the way you are.  You don’t know what you’re doing.”  If he couldn’t get a bag open he had to find something in the cuvees, but he wasn’t sure of what to use.
“DAH!  Yu!” Arthur flops wildly to loosen the hold, but Lewis only tightens his grip and keeps Arthur pinned down.  An intelligible set of squabbles spills from Arthur’s throat as he fumbles around for something, a weapon.
A piece of paper, rolled up.  Arthur knew what the sheet was, if he could manage he always kept one nearby.  Vivi had given it to him and he suspected it might have been a placebo, but he was willing to try anything.  Arthur’s hands were left free, and Lewis was distracted with fumbling through the supplies. With one swipe Arthur had uncoiled the script page and pressed it onto Lewis’ arm.  “Spirit!  Release me.” He wanted to laugh at how absurd the phrase sounded, and he was saying it to Lewis.  The laugh came out with a maniacal peel as Arthur took a breath through the harsh cold air, smoke still curling in his lungs.
Lewis gave a high pitched shriek and withdrew a fraction from the sheet of paper.  In the confusion, Arthur managed to get himself right side up and held the page out before him, but the words he intended to speak got lost when he saw the skull and the bright eyes blazing back at him.  Arthur barked a curse right as Lewis grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the opposite wall of the van.  Arthur can smell burning, carpet or plastic, he sees flames seeping up along Lewis’ suit collar and broad shoulders.  
“I don’t want your tears, or your apology!”
Arthur winces, and kicks out against Lewis’ stomach but the ghost can’t feel it.  “Lew’s,” he rasped.  Heat, fire twisting in his skin, up his bad arm, spilling through his nightmares. “Don’t!  LU-wus!”  He feels his throat compressing to a dangerous amount and darkness begins creeping behind his eyes.  “No!  NO! WHY?!”  Arthur panics and claws at the jacket sleeve, fights to rip away and reclaim consciousness, but the hands are locked to his throat and those ‘eyes’ burn into his own as if they are sipping at his soul.  “Don’t keH -eh. –Mm beg…  Don… Lews, lis-  Listehhn….” Arthur voice becomes garbled, butchered.  “Lis-sEN.  Wak— Don’t do -iss.  Is eee…..” It reaches the point where Arthur feels his neck is ready to snap in two.  His grip jerks feebly at Lewis sleeve one final time, then his hands go limp.
“If only… if only….” Lewis echoes, to himself.  “If only…?  Can’t turn back time.”  Lewis’ eye sockets flare briefly, and the embers along his back diminish.  “Art? Artie!”  His hands spring open and Arthur slumps across the floor with a heavy Thump.  “Oh Dios!  Art.  Di algo. Yo no podía tener.  Nunca lo haría…a ti…”  Arthur doesn’t move, and he’s not breathing.  “No… no.  Como podria? Art!  C’mon!  Don’t do this!”  Lewis isn’t sure what to do, physically what he could do.  He can only think of the time his little sister had been choking, and what his Mamma had done.  “You won’t…. I won’t let you!”  He flips the unconscious figure onto his back and tilts Arthur’s head up, then hesitates.  His hands hover over Arthur’s chest briefly, before he shoves down. Not the rib cage, that’s a fatal mistake many make.  Just beneath, in the diaphragm area.  That was what his Mamma taught him.  
“Art, please.”  If he’s not careful, if he gets carried away, Lewis could easily break Arthur’s body.  “Come back. Damnit!  Open your eyes!  Breathe!” He adjusts Arthur’s head and touches his throat.  He can’t detect breaks, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be breathing.  “Arthur!”  He compresses the center of Arthur’s chest once, twice— then a breath!  Arthur sputters and coughs, his eyes snap open and he sees Lewis hovering over him, hands open.
“Geh… get away from me!”  Arthur throws himself back into the wall and slips away, hands pawing behind him for balance, security.  He tries to take another breath and buckles forward, groaning and holds his neck.  “Juz… why?”
“I… I didn’t mean to,” Lewis rattles, voice a mess of static and scratching.  “You wouldn’t, and… are you okay now?”  He shifts the bright embers in his skull onto Arthur, as the other retreats slowly along the wall.  “Are you….” He hesitates as Arthur stares at him, eyes muddled, unfocused, and full of fear. “Are you— there?”
Arthur holds his stare unblinking, eyes watering, throat aflame.  His expression intermixed with…. “What about you?” he whispers, voice broken.  “Are you… why did you do that?  Why?”  He whimpers as another gasp agitates his wounded throat, and massages his neck.  “Did you want to?  Why?”
Lewis shifts where he’s perched, sinking a bit into the floorboard.  He looks aside where a small yellow flame burns on the short carpet.  Where the cigarette had fallen.  It’s the cigarette he knows, but it could have as easily been him. It’s not though, but even the certainty feels like a lie.  “You… hurt me.”  He snuffs the flame out with his hand.  “I couldn’t brea— snap you out of it.”
Arthur opened his mouth, but cut off when Dimitri’s voice flew through, muffled by the thick walls of the van.  “He’s here?  Gawd. It‘s… fuzzy.  Nothing’s making sense.”  He hangs over his knees and holds his head, rocking slightly side to side. “What happened?  I can’t remember why I came….”  Lewis drifts forward reaching for Arthur, but the crumpled figure recoils, eyes wide.  Lewis keeps his distance.  
From outside, Dimitri’s voice was getting louder, more urgent when he realizes Lewis and Arthur are missing.  Mystery begins barking.  Thankfully the mutt had ducked out, Arthur didn’t want to think what Mystery might’ve done.  It was in the past though, he kept telling himself that.  Arthur was rocking again, arms bundled around his neck and holding his shoulder.
“D-Dimitri,” Lewis voice crackled, and faded out like a bad radio signal.  His skull became transparent as he glides to the vans front.  “He… he can’t see me like this.”
Arthur hobbles away on his hand and knee, he waves a hand back at Lewis.  “I got him. I-I’ll….fuh.”  He hangs on the open door of the van, leaning far over when Dimitri rounded the side of the van.
“Arthur!  You’re okay?” Dimitri wobbled when Mystery ran by and bumped into his leg.  “I was supposed to find a big stick, but I couldn’t find any big enough.”  Dimitri rubbed at his eyes, and put an arm over Mystery.
“A big stick?” Arthur echoed.  “That doesn’t sound very PG.”  He winced, and pressed his metal hand to his head.  The joint connector in his shoulder ached in the cold, but at least it was good for something.  “I’m confused, can you tell me something?  Where are we?”  He edged forward on the bumper and scanned over the presented neighborhood, of what was visible at the edges of the frost coated lawns, glistening in the moons light. “This isn’t your neighborhood.”
At first Dimitri said nothing and only stares up at Arthur’s numb gaze, revaluating time and setting.  “Vivi said my brother could be dead.”
Arthur leaned away to hack dryly into his shoulder and took a moment to gather himself.  Dimitri could see red in Arthur’s eyes as he turned his face back. “Wha?  No, she’d never.”  Then Arthur went quiet and sank deeper over his knees like a melting candle.  He sat that way motionless for a long time, Mystery whining all the while as Arthur gathered himself.  A few times Arthur would twitch as if… coughing, and shuddered at the cold. Finally, he raised his body and said, “No.  She wouldn’t… say that.  We don’t know anything, and she would never have said such a thing.  Never.  Ever.” Arthur paused to clear the tightness in his throat, and coughed a bit more.  He pulled himself up and looked at Dimitri.  “Do you believe me?”
Dimitri didn’t respond.  He only stepped back and looked to the dog under his arm.
The driver side door creaked open.  “What I got so far,” Lewis began.  He pushed the sunglasses a little closer to his eyes, he carried one of the backpacks.  “Something’s gone wrong.  And Vivi’s where?”  Lewis handed a backpack to Dimitri, but kept his distance from Arthur as the folded figure watched him.  A sort of tension was at work between the two, and Dimitri couldn’t read it.  He only knew to stay away from it.
“We left her at the school,” Arthur explained.  He took the bag from Dimitri and fumbled with the straps, he couldn’t figure out how to get the top open and gave up.  “I thought, I think, I guess…. We left her at the school, and I was worried about Dimitri.  That was on my mind last.”  He pressed his cold palm to his eyes.  His head ached.  
Mystery adds a firm bark.  He was at fault too.  But it couldn’t be helped now.
Of course Vivi was not at the school.  Arthur and Lewis searched over the grounds and around the buildings side calling, searching for their team leader.  To no avail she was not there, but if she were she may have not wanted to be found.  There were only a few tracks in the frost layer that could be hers among the many shallow prints.  Arthur reclaimed his cracked flashlight, but that was the extent of the searches accomplishments.  
While the bipedal members searched, Mystery narrowed down the confusion of interwoven scents left on the ice.  Though the water and icy air pricking at his sensitive nose made tracking difficult, he did manage to pick up on Vivi.
The trail leading towards the gate out of the field.
“I think Mystery’s found her scent,” Arthur called. The dog’s movement was slow, frustratingly so.  “This is going to take too long.”
Mystery snuffed at that comment.  His toes were numb and the bandage on his paw was filthy, but he did try to hurry up the pace.  Arthur followed as the hound led along the chain link fence, towards an open gate facing the road.  The open floor of the gate that connected the field and the sidewalk was filled with the scratch marks made in the icy mud by dozens of feet, school children and visitors alike throughout the day.  It would have been easier to track Vivi if it had actually snowed.
“Mystery can maybe track up the road,” Arthur says, when Lewis and Dimitri catch up from across the field.  He shudders and rubs at his flesh arm, though it didn’t help. “But we’re gonna have to get in the van and crank up the heat.”
Lewis checked on the smaller boy that shadowed them. Despite his coat, Dimitri still had his arms plastered around his sides and his breath showed in thin lines, but the boy appeared bright eyed and alert.  “You can drop him off at the motel room, and Mystery and I will keep searching.”
“No,” Dimitri snapped.  He stopped in his tracks and glowers up at Lewis and Arthur when they turn to him.  “I wanna make sure Vivi’s okay too.”
“It’s super cold,” Arthur chattered, rubbing at his shoulders.  “You’re gonna catch pneumonia.  I’m not kidding this is serious, you can die!  We’re thinking about your wellbeing, D.”
“Then stick me in the van with the heater, and your guy’s blankets,” Dimitri reasoned.  He looked Lewis’ way, as Lewis adjusted his sunglasses and moved his sight to the road. “It’d take too much time for you to drive back here, then figure out where you left off.”  Another idea comes to his head.  A slim chance, it was farfetched but Dimitri was willing to try anything.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep this night, not until he had some answers. “What about we try that place where some of missing kids were last seen?  The Prime Rose district?”
“It’s a rumor,” Arthur explains.  He stepped aside, a little away from Lewis when the taller figure looked at him.  “Witnesses thought they saw some kids in that area, before they disappeared.”  Mystery stopped beyond the chain link fence on the sidewalk, and turned to look at Arthur.  Lewis and Dimitri followed the dog, but Arthur remained beside the gate. “If they are under the influence, should we really trust what’s been put in the reports?”
Lewis looked from Arthur, to Dimitri and Mystery’s expectant gazes.  “You weren’t… lying, either?” he said, slowly.  “It only alters the way people think, how they react.”  It was difficult to explain what he picked up from Arthur. Lewis moved away from the group and beckoned them with an arm as he walked down the sidewalk away from Mystery, to where Arthur left the van.  “If she hasn’t gone far, then we’ll see her on the way.”
As the hour got later the streets became deserted, with the curfew in full effect the stray car was a spontaneous appearance.  Lewis did note that most were law enforcement out on patrol, but he tended to agree with Dimitri that they were worthless.  The Prime Rose district was a few miles across the town, through smaller neighborhoods and the shopping/fast-food plazas; but no sign of Vivi.  She was on foot, but they only cruised methodically along the roads always straining to peer through the dull haze of night.  The fractured light contrasted every dark space in home and lawn, but never indication of a dark shadow skittering about.
“I’m sorry I ran away,” Dimitri mumbled.  He clutched Mystery to his chest, the folds of the blanket draped over his shoulders slumped around him and the dog.  “If I hadn’t… I should’ve known something wasn’t right.  You hadn’t….” He pressed his face into Mystery’s neck, and mumbled.
“You couldn’t have known.  You were upset,” Lewis assured.  He gave Dimitri’s head a little pat, then returned his focus to the passenger side window, searching through the sidewalks and brush.  “We’ll find Vivi, no problem.  Don’t fret, hermanito.” Lewis was still worried, but he’d hide it.
As the van took another turn, Arthur leaned far over in his seat to peer out the driver window and check any spaces in the lawns he might’ve missed.  “What do we do if we can’t find her?” he ponders aloud, and shifts his eyes back to Lewis. “Not that I’m doubting, well… I dunno if we will, this towns not big but—”
“You take Dimitri back to the motel, and I’ll keep searching,” Lewis rasped.  “But it’s too cold for her to be out.”
“I’m not going back to the motel,” Dimitri urged again. “You guys are hopeless without me around.”
Lewis was about to contend with that assumption, but the van jarred to a near halt.  They were still moving if barely, and Arthur had leaned hard onto the steering wheel with his eyes fixed on something beyond the hood.  Lewis caught his spike of excite the instant before Arthur spat, “Found her.  There!”
“I need to borrow your bag for a second.”  He snatched the backpack away from Arthur’s side, and sprang out the passenger side door.  “Wait here,” he called, before slamming the door on the sudden swell of frigid air.
They had arrived on the road beside the Prime District, the park on the edge of the town.  It wasn’t a large park, but it was up against the edge of the woods with a brick wall that stood around the freshly trimmed landscape and the wild grove beyond.  A stone path cut through the lawn, leading to a gazeebo built on one side of the park. The base was white stone, and contrasted with the dark shade of a figure standing among the shimmering white frost, back presented to Lewis.  
As Lewis neared Vivi, he slowed his stride cautious if she could anticipate his appearance or of what to expect.  She still had a backpack, he saw.  If she did not appreciate his interference, Lewis would not fight.  “Vivi?”
She edged around to check the voice.  “LewLew, you’re up,” she hummed.  “Were you just stunned?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, and cut the distance between them by two strides.  No sudden movements; smooth, gliding motion.  “What’re looking at?”  Lewis kept track of the dark figure he was now near, but shifts his attention beyond her and sought out across the park.  “Is that…?”
“I thought about what Dimitri said, and it made sense,” she spoke.  She leaned on the edge of the gazeebos wall and watched the small figure wandering across day old frost, the graceful steps almost like a dance.  “There was something else… but I can’t remember.  I try.”
“Are you following her?” he asked.  Lewis felt cold, legitimately cold to the core.  The girl couldn’t be more than six, and she was out here in pajamas and no shoes.
“I’m thinking some kind of nymph or sprite. If they call children out to the woods, then it spirits them away… or something like that.  It has a hold of— What are you doing?”  Vivi spun around when Lewis set down the backpack, and moved the last few feet toward her.  Lewis unzipped the top of his jacket.  “Lew?”
“Here.”  Lewis reached a hand into his coat and brought forth the heart locket.  Vivi was backing away from the gazeebo and toward the open landscape, but Lewis swept a hand out and caught her around the backside. “Listen to my voice.  Focus…” he said, as he opened his hand to allow the glimmering locket to hover freely above Vivi.  Lewis brought his hand down and gently lay his fingers over her brow. “And come back to me.  I know you’re still there.  Romper el atascamiento que engaña a su mente.” He lightly touched Vivi’s eyes and raised his hand back.  “Preservarlo que honra a nuestro contrato.”
Translucent flames coughed out at his jacket sleeve as he drew his hand back and tightened his fist, as if drawing a thread from the bluenettes mind.  His appearance lost solidity, skull flashed through the illusion, bleached bone and eyes baleful in the blue moonlight.  Lewis maintains the illusion with good effort and stares over the rim of his sunglasses, at Vivi’s shimmering eyes.  “No… Vi. Too far.”  The clenched fist quivers, the embers in his eyes sockets smolder, brighten.  “Not there…. Don’t look, Vi.”  Lewis snaps his hand out catching the suspended locket and brought it to his chest. “I can’t… let…..”  Lewis’ eye sockets go dark behind the thick shades he hides behind.  He lowers his head and tightens his hold on the locket at his chest.  Everything is dark and cold again.  Lost.
Vivi goes limp, her eyes flutter shut as she falls back supported only by Lewis’ hand.  It took a second for her to get her bearings and come to.  “Lew… Lewis?” she says.  Lewis doesn’t answer, but flinches at her voice and cradles the softly pulsing heart at his chest.  “What have you done?” she whispers.
“Nothing.”  Only then did Lewis raise his face to meet her gaze.  “I took a risk.  Do you…?” He couldn’t ask.  If he asked, it might trigger something.  He couldn’t hurt her, never.  “What you were doing last?”  He eased Vivi onto her feet, but kept a hand on her shoulder in case she needed support.
Vivi raised a hand to her head.  “What… am I doing?” she murmured.  Vivi noted Lewis adjusting his jacket, and quickly concealing his locket.
“Can you tell me… why you’re here?”  Lewis stooped to lift up the bag.  He looked past Vivi, seeking the area the girl had wandered off into.  They needed to follow, get her back.
“Harvest moon.”  To Lewis perplexed stare, she repeated.  “Harvest moon.  That’s what I looked up.  The disappearances correlate with a Harvest moon, not every month but…. That’s the pattern. I was getting close—” She stopped when the rough pants and heavy foots falls crunched through the frost, suddenly upon them.  “Art!”
Arthur was panting, though the distance he sprinted across the park was relatively short.  He skids to a halt a few feet away from the two, his rapid breath coming in a thick mist startled Lewis back a fraction from Vivi.  “I thought that,” Arthur stammered, eyes darting between Vivi and Lewis. “Is she okay?”
“Of course she’s okay!” Lewis hissed.  He couldn’t blame Arthur, but his interruption was ill timed.  He wasn’t up to this.
Vivi darted forward grabbing Lewis’ arm, and caught Arthur by his good shoulder.  “No time to explain,” she says, and pushes Arthur away.  “Where’s Dimitri?”
“Left in the van?” Lewis presumed, answered.
“Mystery’s with him?”  To Vivi’s question Arthur nods; for the brief time was too stunned to speak, pulling feverishly at Vivi’s grip.  She hadn’t noticed.  Vivi pulls down her backpack and slips out the laptop, Arthur takes it when she pushes it into his hands and she points toward the awaiting van on the road, engine still idling in its rhythmic whirr.  “We’ll have to leave him.  Mystery will know what to do.  Go tell him.” She pushed Arthur away, and he took off running.  “Grab the flashlights and some batteries!”  Once Arthur was on his way, Vivi slung her backpack onto her shoulders and removed her hand from Lewis arm.  She stepped toward the brick wall at the backside of the park, pressing her hands together as she took deep breaths, white mist flashed at her lips.  “I remember…” she began, hands fidgeting into an awkward clasp.  “I came here to wait.  I know I was watching, I knew what would happen and I did nothing.”
Lewis followed after Vivi and caught shoulders, he spun her to face him.  “We’ll make this right,” he hummed.  “We’ll find them.  We’ll figure this out.”
“It’s not right,” she murmured.  Vivi pulled her hands to her chest, and Lewis wrapped her up in his arms.  “We were off guard.  Lewis… Lew. Did you do something…?  To me?”
“No.  I would never,” he said, voice wispy.  “I had to… dissolve its hold on you.  It was a tricky, pulling you away.  I couldn’t…I don’t want to lose you again, like that.”
“You wouldn’t lose me,” she said.  Vivi wrapped her arms up around his chest and held him.  The jacket felt frayed and worn, brittle around his tenuous shape.  Air seemed to go right through Lewis, as if he absorbed the ice under his boots and amplified the sensation.  That wasn’t right.  “Lew,” Vivi began.  “Are you—?”
“Arth’us gonna be back,” he said, and tightened his arms around her one more time before he let go and moved away.  “She was barefoot.  The little girl.  I’m worried.” Vivi didn’t respond, she only looped her arms around her chest.
The idling roll of the engine cut off, and a short time after a streak of yellow light was zipping across the silver field.  Once Arthur caught up, Lewis and Vivi hurried the remainder of the way to the brick wall.  It wasn’t a tall wall, just a wall built to segregate nature from order. The ground beyond it was soft and earthy, coated in leaves and full of brittle mulch dusted with glitter.  The high tangle of the tree canopy blotted out much of the moonlight in thick clumps above, mostly due to the overgrown bundles of vines that wrapped about and crisscrossed all throughout the branches. There were large spaces in the coppices where one tree had fallen and the sky drenched the earth in blue-silver.
“We almost don’t need the flashlight,” Arthur commented, as Vivi clicked hers on.  He didn’t like being out the way they were, without Mystery.  And it was cold.  It was curcial to find the kid and get her back asap, but it was very-very-VERY cold. “Some tracks,” he muttered, turning his torch down.  “Here, and here.”  The ground had a shallow coating of the frost, and in the small wood clearing they moved through, the disturbance on the white cover was most noticeable with the contrast of dark soil.  “Looks fresh. Not an animal.  Too cold anyway.”  He checked Lewis as the ghost drifts over, the figure suspended a full three feet above the earth.  When Lewis is too close, Arthur elects to continue on his own and follow the trail. “Small tracks,” he mutters, as he moves. He tucks himself down under his backpack, seeking some small shelter from the lazy breeze probing through the trees.
Vivi caught up with Lewis and knelt near him, touching the edges of the dirt clumps.  She brought a hand to her mouth in silent anguish as she stood, and Lewis began to reach a hand out for her.  But Vivi darted away, following the path Arthur was on.  “We should be able to catch up with her.”  
Lewis drifts sideways watching her go.  Vivi may have doubted him.  Or, Lewis feared to dwell if he had not done right?  There had to have been another way, but he had panicked. He did that.  Later he would ask, but if it involved her memories… he couldn’t bear that teetering around that subject.
The trail was uphill, a mild ascent and no great difficultly for the surviving members.  Progress was slow going, as they managed the trail and picked over the visible marks in the soil, carefully discerning the path before moving on it.  They couldn’t afford to get lost.  Lewis drifted ahead, able to identify easily where soil was disturbed without spoiling the delicate crust layer himself.
“How is it kids move so fast when you’re not watching them?” Arthur grumbled, at one point.  He kept close to Vivi’s side, his torch flashing with a faulty bulb whenever he let his movements become too erratic. “It didn’t take me that long to gather the supplies.”
“Idunno,” Lewis responds.  He tipped forward, checking the texture of loosened earth scattered on a patch of ice.  “The pacing looks like she was running.  He swung himself upright, and skimmed beneath the canopy with his ember eyes as he glides, low.  The assumption made his bones clatter, but he could…. theoretically.  Nothing was stopping him, nothing physical anyway. But… somehow he couldn’t bring himself to move on the whim.  Terrible.  Ghastly! The only factor holding him back was his irrational fear.  What if it was his own sister?  What then?  He would just… hover, down here, and never take the incentive.  How could he—
Lewis jarred when a hand touched his arm.  A few wisps of fire popped off his neck and hair as Vivi mirrored his jarred movement, with a cringe of her own.  Arthur was ahead for once; the cold made him anxious, impulsive, maybe impulsive.  It wasn’t fair.    
“Hey,” Vivi said, softly.  She tugged on his jacket sleeve, gathering Lewis’ attention.  “We’re making good time.  It’ll be okay.”  She held his stare for a short time.  She was too understanding at times.  She squeezed his sleeve a little tighter.  “You’ll see.” Then, Vivi ducked off on the path becoming steadily clearer before them.
That didn’t help.  If anything, it made Lewis feel worse.  She shouldn’t sympathize, shouldn’t understand this ‘complication’ of his.  There was no reason he couldn’t go find that girl, cold, lost somewhere in these woods. No reason.  Still, he couldn’t bring himself to take the initiative.  It was like he was tied to the earth and it wasn’t fair, not to her.  He had no limitations, they were stolen from him, all of them.  He had no excuses.
Lewis glides onward, carefully sifting through the marks in the soil.  Hoping beyond rational that somehow in their delayed, lost search; somehow, they would catch up with the forests next victim before they found the culprit.
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nicostolemybones · 5 years
Text
Transitioning to Manhood
Will felt a strange nostalgia looking at the box his mother had sent him, although it wasn’t a bittersweet feeling. It was a twisting feeling in his gut, a horrible reminder that his mom was clearing the house of all reminders of her child, trying to get the child she thought she remembered to snap out of a phase and return home. He picked up a knitted hat, barely the size of his fist- he’d been born premature, and his grandmother had knitted the tiny pink hat as soon as she received news of his birth. It was a pale pastel pink, almost white, a pearly quality to the colour, but years of collecting damp in a cardboard box had tinged it a dusty, damp grey. There were photographs, and Will was bombarded with pigtails and frilly dresses and patent shoes buckled with bows. “I think I would have cried if I’d been put in that monstrosity,” Lou-Ellen said softly, pointing at the photograph Will was currently holding, featuring him in a pink frilly dress for a Church wedding, holding a basket of bright pink and red rose petals, bawling his eyes out and lifting up the hem of the skirt to wipe his face. He looked about five.
The next picture showed the same dress covered in mud, Will grinning like a maniac chasing the vicar’s daughter with a worm in his hands and one shoe missing, hair a tangled mess. Cecil snorted and laughed. “Please tell me you put that worm down the back of her dress!”
“Nah, she picked up a bigger worm and chased me with it instead. We were friends in kindergarten,” Will replied, pointing out a photograph of him in pink flowery dungarees sitting opposite the girl, who was wearing the same dungarees in blue. “We made mud pies and put them in her father’s shoes in that picture,” Will said sadly, “we got into trouble for boyish behaviour and making a mess.” Will unceremoniously shoved the photographs into the bottom of the box, taking a few deep breaths.
“Are you okay, Will,” Lou-Ellen asked gently, placing her hand on his back and rubbing small circles.
“Yeah,” Will sighed, staring emptily into the box before picking out his birth certificate and staring at it. “I don’t know,” Will amended, and Cecil took the certificate out of his hands.
“We should burn this,” Cecil announced, “it’s useless. If you end up needing it for anything, you can just get it re-printed at the register office. Although you might wanna make some changes to it first. Until you can do that legally, Connor and Travis owe me a massive favour, if you’d like.” Will let out a small laugh, burying his face in his hands.
“My whole childhood is in this box,” Will said quietly, “and my mom’s throwing away all of her favourite memories of me, and I can’t bring myself to look at them.”
“Hey,” Lou-Elllen began gently, “we’ll make new memories, new photographs.These aren’t your memories, they’re your mom’s ideal childhood for you, it’s all the parts she didn’t like taken out and the select few moments she did pruned carefully and displayed to be her image of perfection. You don’t have to keep any of this, because that’s not how your childhood felt to you. They aren’t pictures of you, they’re pictures of the child your mom wanted everybody to see, they aren’t pictures that truly represent your childhood. You aren’t obliged to hold onto somebody else's image of you.”
“We can burn all of it later, mate,” Cecil offered, “just us if you want. And Nico too, of course. Kayla and Austin too maybe, if they aren’t busy.”
“Yeah,” Will sighed, “shoot it with a burning arrow or something.”
“That’s the spirit,” Cecil grinned mischievously, taking the box from Will, “I’ll go take this to my cabin and get my siblings to thoroughly vandalise everything so before you burn it you can have a laugh.”
“Thanks,” Will laughed, and Lou-Ellen pulled him into her shoulder.
“I’ll see you later, dude,” Cecil smiled, “and you, my bi-hexual girlfriend!” He kissed Lou-Ellen’s cheek and jogged off.
“Do you wanna go find Nico?”
“He’s got training now,” Will replied, “but I wanna go talk to Clarisse, do you know where I could find her?”
“I saw her heading to her cabin before I came here,” Lou-Ellen replied, “I’m gonna go work on creating some more sigils, okay?” She kissed Will’s cheek before heading towards her cabin, and Will set out to find Clarisse. She wasn’t in her cabin, or in the armory- Will found her sitting outside the currently empty Aphrodite cabin, holding a pale green and cream chiffon scarf in her hands. Will sat beside her, bumping her shoulder.
“It was Silena’s,” Clarisse said gently, “her favourite hijab. She used to cover it with pins and I’d put flowers through the pins. After we burned her shroud, we uh… her parents invited me to her funeral, at the Masjid. The mosque, that is.”
“It’s beautiful,” Will said, “you should keep it. She’d want you to have it.”
“Yeah,” Clarisse sighed, “don’t tell anyone I went soft, you hear me, Solace?”
“Message received and understood,” Will smiled, and Clarisse punched him lightly in the arm.
“She taught me how to put on makeup,” Clarisse admitted, “she used to do it real subtle, so nobody would know. She’d contour my whole face and she’d put on neutral eye shadows and clear mascara, cherry chapstick muted with matte powder.”
“I never noticed you wearing makeup,” Will replied.
“That’s because that was the point. She made it look completely natural. I’m not exactly… feminine.”
“But she taught you how you could be butch and still be pretty, right?”
“Exactly,” Clarisse replied, “she helped me to pass.”
“A true ally,” Will smiled, resting his head on her shoulder, “how have you been recovering from surgery?”
“I’ve had worse pain,” Clarisse smiled, “I’m still getting used to the extra weight on my chest, but Chris likes them just as much as I do, I think.” Will chuckled lightly, and Clarisse put her arm around him. “Anyway, you look like shit, Solace, what happened?”
“My mom,” Will replied dejectedly, “she sent a box of stuff from my childhood. I’m gonna burn it all later. Cecil’s idea.”
“I’ll be right there with you,” Clarisse said, squeezing his shoulder roughly, “providing I can take a baseball bat to everything first.”
“You can rip the birth certificate before I shoot everything with a burning arrow” Will offered, and Clarisse chuckled lightly.
“That’s my boy,” Clarisse grinned, punching his arm lightly.
“The thing is… I don’t hate my childhood,” Will began honestly. “I didn’t always know I was trans, I didn’t always hate myself, I just couldn’t understand that weird out of place feeling, you know? I didn’t know why things made me uncomfortable. I only started figuring it out when I came to camp… and now, it hurts to look at all the pictures, because they… they don’t feel like I’m looking at photographs of me, and the more I tell myself that’s me, the more I can’t stand to look at them, because I look so female. But my childhood wasn’t a sad one, I… I was loved once, I used to pretend I had nightmares so my mom would give me these butter cookies with warm milk. She knew I was usually faking it, but she didn’t care as long as I smiled.”
“Tell me more,” Clarisse probed gently, before wrapping Silena’s scarf around his shoulders when she noticed a breeze, keeping her arm around his shoulder.
“She didn’t always have a lot of time for me, with the singing and all,” Will began, “but when she did have time for me, we always did something. She used to take me to my grandma’s farm a lot. The chickens didn’t like me much, but there was this baby calf my grandma let me name. Which was a terrible decision, I called it Dustbin Grass,” Will announced with a small laugh. Clarisse snorted, and Will continued. “Anyway, the calf used to come in through the back door and lay down in the middle of the sitting room, and I’d curl up next to the calf. We had a height chart on the wall, and I’d always compare my height with the calf every week. And other days, my mom would take me on day trips. Sometimes it was just to the local park or play area, we’d feed the ducks and sit in the sun with a picnic. I’d always go on the slide, although some days it was so hot the metal burned and I’d start crying. My mom always used to wrap me up in a warm hug and she’d tell me that it was all okay.”
“That sounds nice,” Clarisse said sincerely, and Will continued to share his memories.
“I wasn’t so good with all the school stuff. When I was a kid, I hadn’t been diagnosed with ADHD yet, or dyslexia, but I still struggled. I was behind everybody in the class on my reading and writing and my handwriting was always terrible. I used to get frustrated and walk out a lot. And after break time, I always had a hard time calming down, so I used to be super bouncy and I’d need something to fidget with. And of course, I was a kid, so the louder the better. I’d get into trouble a lot and get sent out of class. I used to cry because I thought I was dumb, but my mom always told me I was the smartest. She’d take me on nature walks, and she’d point out different trees and birds and insects and I’d tell her what they were. And at one point, I could identify native birds by their calls. My mom made me feel smart, and I didn’t feel smart again until I came to camp.”
“How the fuck did they think you were dumb?”
“Classism, sexism, and ableism. Anyway, my mom and I used to have pamper weekends, where we’d just sit out in the garden with bowls of cold water for our feet and face masks, and we’d watch the clouds if there were any. Mom never used to put enough sunscreen on herself and she used to end up looking like a lobster. We’d talk about how our weeks had been, and about my mom’s record deals and tours. She mainly toured the South, she didn’t usually go far out from Texas, but I’ve always been travel sick and I can’t really handle anything over half an hour, so it was always better to leave me at home with my grandma sometimes. My mom and I lived in the city in Austin, but my grandma lived on a ranch. She used to make me cookies all the time and she’d tell me stories of mom’s childhood and her childhood. She’d tell me how lucky I was. My grandma was a lesbian, but things when she were young were… well, worse than they are today, so… she married a man and had kids and buried who she was. She always told me that I couldn’t help who I was, and that if ever I figured myself out and I wasn’t straight, then it was okay and she’d love me just the same. The vicar used to sit and have tea with my grandma every day, because he had a gay son and he wanted her advise on how to support him.”
“Your gran is a legend,” Clarisse smiled, “is she still with us or…”
“I wish I knew,” Will sighed sadly, “grandpa died when I was six and the year after, my nan met a woman, and she moved away and my mom refused to let me have her address or contact her. Everyone always assumes my mom is kind and loving because I have such happy childhood memories. But when you have a child, if you can’t love your child unconditionally, then you never loved them at all. I grew up, knowing, just knowing… that one day, I’d do or say something and my mom would know I was bisexual and my mom wouldn’t love me anymore. Knowing that your own mother will stop loving you, for the very thing that gets you beat up in the playground, for the very thing that gets you harassed, knowing that your own mother believes with all of her heart that her child deserves to burn in hellfire and brimstone for eternity just for being attracted to somebody… from a young age I knew that my mother’s love was conditional. For years, I knew that I didn’t meet the conditions for my mother’s love. And then I stopped going home because I was scared and I wasn’t ready to be abandoned by the same woman who promised unconditional love. And then I came out as trans to her and… she sends me the box. And it’s not just a box to remind me of my childhood, it’s all her favourite memories. It’s the drawings she stuck to the fridge, the photos she showed guests, the things she was most proud of me for. It’s her way of telling me that she hates me so much that those memories are worthless to her. Happy childhoods are empty gestures when a parent’s love is conditional. And I have to face biphobia and transphobia every day of my life, but it’s worse knowing I don’t have a home. My home is a summer camp. I’m alone. If the woman who swore to love me unconditionally, swore by her bible to love me and protect me and fulfil her god given role as a parent, can cast me aside like I’m disgusting, then how am I ever meant to feel anything but wrong? How am I meant to convince myself I’m worthy of love? I can’t even use public restrooms without fearing for my safety, how am I meant to feel safe enough to trust anybody?”
“Hey,” Clarisse began, squeezing Will’s shoulder, “you’re never alone. No matter what, I’ve got your back. I’ll kick a transphobes teeth, you know I will. We have to stick together, we can’t let the community be divided, okay? We’ll look out for each other. You’re not unloved. I love you. My mom is your mom now, okay? Actually no, I’m your mom now, kiddo. And you have the best friends you could ask for, okay? Lou-Ellen can and will hex anybody who tries to put you down. Cecil’s always got your back, he pranked that Athena kid real good, remember? And you have Nico. You’re dating the Son of Hades. He can and will turn anyone into a ghost if they hurt you. That boy loves you, okay? Your self-worth is not defined by your mother’s prejudice. Nico’s friends- Jason, Percy, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Piper, Reyna, Leo- they’re all allies we can trust. You’re not a boy anymore, Solace, you’re a man now. You’re making your own way in a world where the odds are stacked against you. You just gotta keep going. People will hate you no matter what you do. So surround yourself with allies, keep going no matter how bleak, stay strong, and when you can’t stay strong, use your support network. We’ll both survive if we stick together. If you feel scared to go outside, come and find me. We’ll keep each other safe. And remember. You’re perfect, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. Aphrodite would want you to respect yourself and love yourself. Your dad would want you to shine and spread light amongst the hate, to rise no matter how many times you’re pushed down. My dad would want you to fight back and never stop fighting for your rights, our rights, for what you believe in. And I’m sure most of the other gods support you too.”
“Damn girl, now I know why you’re in charge of motivational battle speeches,” Will smiled, and Clarisse ruffled his hair.
“Good boy. Now, you’re gonna get back to that infirmary, and carry on as normal, okay? And then we’re gonna burn your birth certificate and all the other stuff.”
“I had my T shot this morning,” Will stated with a small smile, “after a few months, people no longer misgender me when they hear my voice and for once in my life, I like how I sound. I feel like me. My dysphoria is… it’s so much less intense than it used to be. I feel safer in public, I feel confident enough to speak as loud as I want without fearing judgment or misgendering or violence.”
“You’re getting a bit of a fluffy mustache too there, Solace,” Clarisse teased light-heartedly, and Will laughed happily. “I’ve gotta go teach the Aphrodite girls some self-defence classes, you have to prepare for the influx of inevitable injuries because the Ares cabin and the Athena cabin are sparring in the arena.”
Will went about the rest of his day with his head held high. For once, he felt proud of who he was, of the man he’d become, of the way he hadn’t let the hate he’d heard turn him hateful, how he helped people, how he tried his best to make every camper feel like they had a safe space, a home. He never wanted anybody to feel the way he had for such a long time. He prided himself on his kindness, and he vowed never to lose it.
So later that day, the camp stood around a pit of flames at the beach, all turned out to show their solidarity bar a few. Will wore his flag as a cape, and everybody cheered when Clarisse marched in still in her armour from the day, with a ‘fuck the cis-tem’ jacket, and ripped up Will’s birth certificate. Will smiled as he threw the photographs into the flames, one by one, his friends all cheering and clapping. He watched every painful reminder, every perfect image of his mother’s ideal child- graffitied on with funny mustaches and devil horns on his mom, courtesy of the Hermes cabin- of conditional love and rejection, go up in flames. For once, Will wasn’t defined by his past, but rather by his future, one surrounded by allies and friends from all walks of life. People of many religions and races, sexualities, and genders. And even better, he received a loving kiss from his boyfriend in front of the crowd. For once, he didn’t look back.
@solangeloweek day 2, childhood/back story building
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Fic: Voices Carry ch. 20
So apparently it's been a whopping three months since my last update. Whoops. Here's a super long chapter to (hopefully) make up for it.
Read on AO3
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After the incident at the playground, Sara saw Nate one more time before he left for Star City.
He stopped by the apartment at Sara’s request to talk about how to move forward.
“Where’s Avery?” Nate asked.
“Len took her to the park for the afternoon,” she told him, “I wanted to talk with you one-on-one. Sit.”
Nate took a seat in the upholstered armchair while Sara sat on the couch.
There was a beat of silence before Sara spoke.
“You know you crossed the line, right?” she asked him, “I had one request: that you didn’t tell Avery you’re her dad, and you couldn’t even manage that.”
“Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, leaning forwards, his hands clasped as he balanced his elbows on his knees, “I swear it was a mistake, I didn’t know Avery would get so upset and I’m sorry.”
Sara exhaled heavily.
“Thank you,” she nodded, “I appreciate you saying that.”
“You know, I was a little surprised you even asked me to come back,” he said.
“Believe me, it’s not because I wanted to,” Sara replied. Nate’s face fell slightly, “But it would be wrong of me to keep you out of Avery’s life, especially now she knows who you are.”
“Thank you,” Nate nodded vigorously.
“I guess now I need to know what you want to happen next,” she continued, “I know it’s hard because we live in different cities, and she’s starting school again soon, but would you maybe want to try taking her overnight or something?”
“Yeah, totally,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
“Okay, well, my best friend’s wedding is in a couple weeks so we’ll be spending a few days in Star City. We could do it then?”
“Definitely,” he nodded, “That’d be awesome.”
He didn’t stay for too much longer before he left to catch his train. Sara was glad for the reason to see him go.
She always felt drained when she spent time with Nate. It made her wonder how she’d actually dated him for so long — almost a year, believe it or not. He’d just been so charming and seemed genuinely interested in her, although knowing that the person she’d been with before him was Oliver Queen made her think that perhaps her definition of those two qualities had been skewed at the time.
She meant it when she said that she wanted Nate to have a chance to be in Avery’s life, but it certainly wasn’t easy on her.
It made her think about Leonard. He’d been handling everything so well — dropping Avery off with Nate when Sara couldn’t (or didn’t want to), offering his genuine unbiased opinions when she needed to make decisions, not punching Nate in the face when he was being a jackass (which was often) — and it made her forget that this couldn’t be easy on him either.
She knew his experience with his own father had somewhat dissuaded him from being one himself, but the relationship he’d formed with Avery had proven him wrong. Sara could tell that he loved being Avery’s dad, and she was sure it was uncomfortable at the very least to have some of that taken away.
Not that he’d ever tell her any of this. Sara had long since learned that Leonard tended to avoid sharing his feelings if he didn’t have to. If she sensed something was wrong, she had to dig it out of him. She knew that some people wouldn’t see that as an appealing quality, but Sara usually didn’t mind. She just didn’t like to think he was suffering alone.
Except he wasn’t alone. Sara had told him time and time again that she would go to the ends of the Earth for him, and no matter how many times he rolled her eyes when she said it, she knew he believed her.
A few weeks after Sara’s conversation with Nate, they all headed to Star City for Felicity and Oliver’s wedding.
“I feel like we should just move here,” Leonard commented as they sped past the ‘Entering Star City’ sign.
“Don’t even joke about that,” Sara replied, shaking her head warningly.
Not too long later, they had checked into their hotel room, though they didn’t stick around too long before they headed out once again.
They successfully made it through the rehearsal dinner (Leonard generously left early to put Avery to bed and Sara successfully avoided an interaction with her sister) and they woke early the next morning to prepare for the wedding.
Sara was Felicity’s maid of honor, so after a quick breakfast with Avery and Len, she headed off to the wedding venue to help Felicity get ready.
Getting everyone’s hair and makeup done took an astounding four hours, including the times Sara left to see how Oliver and the groomsmen were doing (they were fine, watching a Star City Rockets game that might have also detained Sara for a half hour).
Finally, two hours before the ceremony began, it was time for Felicity to put on her dress.
“You look so beautiful, baby!” Donna Smoak gasped when Felicity emerged from behind a curtain in her wedding dress.
“Thanks mom,” she said, a hint of exasperation in her voice as her mother hugged her.
Felicity did look beautiful. She had chosen a ball gown style dress, a contrast from the tight-fitting clothes she usually opted for. It was strapless, with a lace bodice and crochet details on the tulle skirt and train. Rhinestone detailing along the waist complemented the gems pinning up her hair.
Her bridesmaids, Sara, Thea, Iris, and Elena, were in long dresses of a deep forest green color. There was a wide satin band around the waist and a tall slit up on side of the skirt. The halter neckline was cut low, the strap narrowing to reveal an open back.
“You look great, Lis,” Sara nodded.
“Are you sure?” Felicity asked nervously, looking at her reflection in the full length mirror.
“Yes,” they all reassured her.
“When are pictures?” she asked, smoothing out the tulle skirt of her dress.
“Five minutes,” Sara told her, “The guys are ready. We can head over now if you want.”
Felicity nodded.
An hour later, when pictures were done, Sara stopped by the hotel to see how Leonard and Avery were doing.
She entered the room to see Leonard standing by the window, straightening his tie. He looked over when the door opened.
“You ready?” Sara asked as she walked towards him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be with Felicity?” he asked.
“Everyone’s getting their makeup and hair touched-up before the ceremony starts,” she replied walking further into the room, “Thought I might stop by and see how things are going here.”
Sara tugged lightly on the lapels of his jacket. She’d never seen him in a suit before. He was always in his dark jeans and heavy leather jacket (she’d noticed that the blue parka hadn’t made an appearance in a while, but if because of the mid-August heat or because he was ready to put that part of his life behind him, she wasn’t sure).
Today, he was in a suit of a deep navy blue color. Underneath the jacket was a grey vest and a white dress shirt.
“You clean up nice,” she said, watching him tuck the red tie beneath his vest.
“So do you,” he replied, his eyes sweeping up and down her green dress.
“Thanks,” Sara smirked, “Felicity has good taste.”
“That she does.”
A moment later, Avery bounded out of the bathroom in the outfit Sara had picked out for her: a halter sundress that tied into a bow around the nape of her neck. It was a longer length than Sara would normally opt for to hide the scrapes and bruises Avery had acquired during long summer days spent on the playground, and printed on the pale blue fabric were large flowers of navy blue, lilac, red, and gold hues.
“Mommy, you look so pretty!” Avery exclaimed.
“Thank you, Avie,” Sara smiled, “Do you like your dress?”
“Yeah!” she said, spinning in a circle to make the long crepe-y skirt flair out, “Look Mama, I match Daddy!”
She pointed to a navy blue flower on her dress before frantically poking at Leonard’s leg.
“I can see that,” she nodded, smiling. She glanced at her phone, “I should get back to Felicity soon. And you guys should start heading over too.”
Leonard nodded.
“Do you want me to bring Ave’s bag for tonight?” he asked.
Sara thought for a moment, “I’ll take it. I can leave it in the back room of the wedding place until the reception.”
“Is the wedding soon,” Avery asked as Sara found her backpack wedged between one of the beds and a side table.
“Uh-huh,” Sara nodded, “Ave, you know I’m not gonna be sitting with you during it, right?” Avery nodded, “You’re gonna sit with Daddy and behave and not make a lot of noise?”
“Yup,” she chirped.
“Good,” she said, “Okay, so I’m gonna go now. Be good for Daddy, okay?”
“Okay.”
Sara kissed Leonard, and planted another in Avery’s curls and then headed back out the door.
About thirty minutes later, Leonard and Avery were sitting in ornately carved wooden chairs, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
Oliver and Felicity had chosen to have their wedding in the glass-walled conservatory of a manor on the outskirts of Star City. Even Leonard could appreciate how beautiful it was, with the afternoon sunlight shining into the room and greenery growing up the walls.
“Hey.”
Leonard turned in his seat to see Laurel standing in the aisle next to him. Avery turned with him, her face brightening when she saw who had spoken.
“Auntie Laurel!” she exclaimed, climbing over Leonard’s legs to reach the aisle.
“Hi Avery!” Laurel said, lifting her up into a hug, “Are you excited to see the wedding?”
“Yeah!”
Laurel put Avery back on the ground.
“How’re you, Leonard?” she asked.
“I’m good,” he nodded, “and you?”
“Uh, well,” she began, “I’m at the wedding of my ex-boyfriend — alone — because my husband is the best man, so…confused would probably be a good word for it.”
“Well, it’ll be over soon,” he amended.
“Sara’s in the wedding?” she asked him. Leonard nodded, “She still hasn’t talked to me since…y’know.”
“I think she needs time,” he replied. She nodded.
Laurel glanced over her shoulder to see Quentin waving for her.
“I should go,” she said, “I think the ceremony’s gonna start. Maybe I’ll see you at the reception?”
“Maybe.”
Laurel smiled, waved to Avery, and turned away from them.
“Daddy?” Avery asked. Leonard looked over to her, “Is Mommy and Auntie Laurel fighting?”
“Yes.”
“How come?”
“That’s what sisters do sometimes.”
“Does Lisa fight with you?”
“Sometimes. More a few years ago than now.”
“How come d’you fight?”
“Lisa isn’t always the best at making decisions.”
“All rise,” the officiant said a moment later, his voice carrying across the room.
Leonard stood up along with everyone around him.
“Daddy, I can’t see,” Avery said, tugging on his sleeves. Leonard lifted her under her arms and stood her on a chair.
“Good?”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded, “Where’s Mommy?”
“She’s coming soon,” he replied.
A door at the back of the banquet hall opened and Felicity’s mother, Donna, started down the aisle.
Donna was wearing a summery floral-patterned dress with a neckline he knew Felicity wouldn’t appreciate.
Leonard had gotten the chance to meet Donna Smoak at the rehearsal dinner the night before. She seem to be quite a foil to her daughter, brazen and high-strung, yet still likable. She was, unsurprisingly, infatuated with Avery and was very disappointed to hear she wouldn’t be in the wedding (Felicity had initially wanted Avery to be her flower girl, but when she found out that Leonard and Sara were getting married, she insisted Avery wait to be flower girl for her parents’ wedding).
Donna made it to the end of the aisle and took her seat right in front of the alter.
A moment later, Oliver appeared beside the officiant, dressed in a sleek black tuxedo. He shook the officiant’s hand, straightened his jacket, and turned to face the wooden door at the back of the room.
The door opened again and one by one each of Felicity’s bridesmaids made their way down the aisle, arm-in-arm with a groomsman.
Oliver’s sister Thea walked with her boyfriend Roy, followed by Iris and Barry. Last was John Diggle and a young, short woman named Elena.
Leonard was impressed with himself for knowing who all of these people were without a formal introduction to any of them, but Sara talked to Felicity a lot, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t picked up on some of the family drama, and there was certainly a lot of it.
The “drama” that went down in his own household had been of a much different variety than hers, and he found it intriguing to see a normal family experience their own trials (although as more time went by, the more he was convinced this was not a normal family).
“Look!” Avery exclaimed, her voice at a volume clearly meant to be a whisper, “Mama!”
Leonard looked where she was pointing and saw Sara starting her walk down the aisle. Tommy Merlyn, Oliver’s best man, was by her side. Sara was smiling good-naturedly, quietly laughing at something Tommy had said.
“Mommy!” Avery said, her voice not quite a yell, but certainly audible.
Sara looked over as she reached their row of seats.
“Hi Avie,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling as she waved.
Sara continued down the aisle and soon Felicity came into view.
“Look,” Leonard murmured, lifting Avery up so she could see over the heads of the other wedding attendants. When Avery saw Felicity in her wedding dress, walking arm-in-arm with her father, she let out a gasp.
“Daddy, look, she looks like a princess!” she said, gripping his shoulders and craning her neck to see better. Avery waved to Felicity. She glanced over, smiling in their direction when she saw them.
A minute later, she reached the alter and everyone took their seats.
“Daddy?” Avery whispered, tugging on Leonard’s sleeve, “Is Mommy gonna look as beautiful as Auntie Lissy when she marries you?”
“Your mom is beautiful all the time,” he told her, his voice quiet.
“But she doesn’t wear wedding dresses all the time,” she responded.
“That’s right She doesn’t do that,” he amended.
“And wedding dresses make you a gazillion times even more beautiful.”
“I think that’s your answer, then.”
The wedding went by relatively quickly, and mostly consisted of Leonard explaining the ceremony to Avery.
“Why’s Ollie talkin’?”
“He’s giving his vows.”
“What are vows?”
“He’s promising to Felicity that he’ll love her forever.”
“Is he gonna?”
“I hope.”
“Why’s Lissy talking now?”
“She’s giving her vows.”
“Why?”
“Same reason Oliver did.”
“She’s gonna love him forever?”
“Theoretically.”
“What’s theoretically?”
The ceremony didn’t drag on like Leonard suspected, and soon Oliver and Felicity were making their way back down the aisle together.
Ten minutes later, they had all reconvened in the manor’s formal banquet hall decorated in shades of cream and gold.
“It looks like a princess castle!” Avery had exclaimed when they first entered the room.
Leonard had been to few weddings throughout the course of his life, and this one was certainly the most extravagant. He rarely interacted with polite society (besides stealing from them, but that part of his life was over). It was interesting to him to see this lifestyle, this lavishness, when it was considered by many in the room as normal. He had never been in the same room as Oliver Queen before, and although he didn’t seem quite as clueless as Tommy Merlyn, he gave off a similar air of ignorance, a life of affluence preventing him from being able to fully recognize all he had.
He didn’t participate in much of the wedding festivities, choosing instead to sit and observe. He watched Oliver and Felicity’s first dance, set to Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” (which was number eight on a list of common first dance songs, something Leonard had looked up just to spite Sara, who thought it was sweet). As they were finishing up dinner, the toasts began.
Donna went first, her too long and overly revealing speech ending with her in tears and Felicity with her head in her hands.
Tommy went next, talking about the childhood he’d spent with Oliver, and how they had been together through all the important stages of their lives (it was a touching toast, Leonard had to admit, although he figured Laurel was behind at least most of it).
Sara was last. She hadn’t prepared a toast, at least not a fully written-out one like the other two — it wasn’t her style, but she ended up delivering a lovely speech about her friendship with Felicity, supporting each other when no one else would.
“How was that for impromptu,” she whispered gleefully as she returned to her seat. She gave Avery a high five.
When everyone finished eating, the dance floor was opened up to the rest of the wedding attendants.
“Let’s go dance, Len,” Sara said, nudging his arm with her shoulder as she nodded to the dance floor.
“Are you watching the time?” Leonard asked Sara, ignoring her request.
“No,” she replied, her expression blank.
“Nate’s gonna be here in three minutes.”
“Shit,” she said, recognition dawning across her face, “Where’s Avery?”
Leonard tipped his head to the side. Sara looked over to see Avery playing with the flower girl, a cupcake in each hand and frosting all over her face.
“Oh God,” Sara said closing her eyes momentarily before calling for her daughter, “Avery, c’mere!”
Avery looked up and then ran over to her mother.
“You’re double-fisting cupcakes, my love,” Sara told her, ruffling her curls.
“They’re good!” she chirped, taking an impossibly large bite out of a cupcake and smearing even more lilac-colored frosting on her cheeks.
“I don’t doubt it,” Sara said, attempting to wipe the frosting off with a napkin, “but we gotta go. Your dad’s waiting for you.”
Avery’s face fell.
“But I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay at the party.”
“I know, but you promised you’d stay with him tonight, and you’re gonna do fun things there too.”
“Can he come to the party?”
“Uh…no. C’mon, say bye to Daddy and then we have to go.”
While Avery hugged Leonard, Sara found Avery’s backpack hanging off of her chair. She held it out for Avery and watched as she pulled her arms through the straps.
“Ready?” she asked. Avery nodded. Sara took her hand and led her into the foyer of the manor.
Nate was waiting for them, sitting on an upholstered couch. He stood up when he saw Sara and Avery approaching.
“Hey,” he said, meeting Sara’s eyes, “You look nice.”
“Thanks,” she replied, “You ready?”
“Yeah, totally,” he nodded.
“Well, here she is,” Sara said. She looked at Avery, “You ready to go?”
Avery nodded. Sara looked back up at Nate.
“Okay, so basically everything she needs is in her backpack. She’s eaten — sort of. It was  mostly cupcakes so she still needs dinner. She’s not a very picky eater, so she’ll probably be fine with whatever works for you. Her bedtime is at eight, but if you wanted, you could keep her up a little later.”
Nate nodded.
“Okay,” he said, “Sounds good.”
“And if you need anything, just text me or call.”
“Got it,” he nodded, “You ready to go, Avery?”
Avery nodded, not letting go of her mother’s hand. Sara crouched down and pulled her into a hug. She felt Avery’s arms wind around her neck, her fingers gripping her hair.
“You’re gonna have fun, okay?” Sara whispered into Avery’s curls, “I promise.”
She felt Avery nod.
Sara stood up and gave her a little nudge forward.
“Have fun,” she said as they started heading for the front door that was being propped open with a barrel filled with purple flowers. Avery turned and waved as they passed through the doorway. Soon they were down the porch steps and out of sight.
Sara took a deep breath and then headed back for the banquet hall.
“Well that was shitty,” she said when she returned to the table and saw Leonard in the same place she’d left him.
“She didn’t want to go?” he asked as Sara sat in the chair next to him.
“Not really,” she replied, “She seemed kind of…I dunno, uncomfortable?” She met his eyes, “Was this a mistake?”
“I really don’t know,” he answered. Sara let out a sigh, leaning over to rest the side of her head on his shoulder.
A moment later, Felicity came up behind them.
“Did Nate pick Avery up?” she asked. Sara nodded as she sat up.
“Just now.”
“Aw, that sucks,” Felicity said, leaning over to hug her from behind, her arms wrapping around Sara’s shoulders, “I mean, I’m sure she’ll have fun with him, but…y’know, it can’t be easy.”
Felicity stood and walked around their chairs.
“But look on the bright side,” she said, gesturing around them, “You’re at a fancy party. The booze is free, for you at least, and you don’t have a kid to take care of.”
“She has a point,” Leonard agreed.
“When have you ever looked on the bright side of anything,” Sara grumbled.
“Cute,” he smirked.
“You’re seriously both encouraging me to, what, get hammered on my night off?” Sara said skeptically, “Really?”
“Yes,” they said simultaneously.
“You deserve it,” Felicity added seriously.
Sara raised her eyebrows thoughtfully.
“Fine,” she said, “I’m gonna go get a drink — or two — and then you,” she poked Leonard’s chest, “are gonna dance with me even if I have to drag you out onto the floor.”
She stood, feeling his eyes on her as she headed for the bar.
She ordered two shots of an alcohol she hadn’t had since right after Avery was born (and then never again — waking up hungover sucked, but waking up hungover at dawn to a screaming newborn was damn near prison torture) and a whiskey for Leonard. She downed one of the shots before even leaving the bar. Just as she picked up the other two glasses to head back to the table, she saw her sister making her way towards her. She drank the other shot, wondering briefly if she should order another before Laurel was standing in front of her.
“Hey Sara,” she said.
“Laurel,” Sara said, forcing a friendly smile onto her face, “You look nice.”
“So do you,” she replied, “As always. Your wedding invitation came in the mail yesterday. I was a little surprised to see it.”
“Yeah, well, Lisa told me not to just send emails,” she joked.
“I’m serious,” Laurel said, “I was sort of surprised to see you actually invited me.”
“Well, you are my sister,” Sara shrugged, “Of course I’d invite you to my wedding.”
“So you aren’t still mad at me about Nate?” she asked.
“I think you’re smart enough to know it’s gonna take more than a month and half for me to get over that,” she said, lifting the glass of whiskey meant for Leonard to her lips.
Sara couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or resignation she saw in Laurel’s eyes.
“Okay, well, I’m sorry, I guess,” she said, “I hope he’s not causing you guys a ton of trouble.”
“No, none at all,” Sara said sweetly. She ordered two more shots for herself and another whiskey for Len and then walked away from her sister.
“That looked less than amicable,” Leonard commented when Sara returned to the table, accepting the glass of whiskey.
“Let’s just say Felicity is lucky I love her so much because I would love to beat some sense into my sister.”
Felicity and Leonard were ultimately unsuccessful at getting Sara completely hammered, but when they returned to the hotel room at nearly eleven o’clock, her wide smile and uncharacteristic giggle were reminding Leonard of when Sara had to take pain meds for her bullet wound to the stomach several months ago.
It didn’t last long.
“I hope Ave’s doing okay,” she said morosely, pulling off her silver heels and letting them drop onto the carpeted floor.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Leonard reassured her, loosening his tie, “She usually has fun with him.”
“I know,” she nodded, “but she’s never spent the night with anyone before.”
“That’s not true,” Leonard replied, “She sleeps at your mom’s house all time.” Sara opened her mouth to argue but he continued, “and when you had to stay at S.T.A.R. Labs for a few weeks after the warehouse incident, Lisa stayed with her.”
“She trusts them though,” Sara argued, turning away from him and pulling her hair over her shoulder. She was still as he unzipped the back of her green dress, “She hasn’t known Nate for very long, maybe not long enough to spend a whole night with him.”
Sara went into the bathroom, leaving the door open to hear Leonard’s response. as she changed into a t-shirt and shorts.
“You left me alone with her when you only knew me for a month,” he said, “and I’m not actually her dad.”
“Yeah, but that’s because she was, like, obsessed with you,” she replied, “She trusted you before I did.”
“She has good taste,” he replied, and Sara could practically hear his smirk. She rolled her eyes.
She picked up a hairbrush off the counter and went back into the hotel room where Leonard was now in a t-shirt and sweatpants, sitting on one of the queen-size beds with a book.
“I just feel like I’m rushing into it,” she said, shrugging as she sat cross-legged next to him.
Sara’s phone, resting on the bedside table, starting to ring.
“Who is it?” Sara asked, starting to run the hairbrush through her hair.
Leonard, closer to the phone than her, leaned over to read the name on the illuminated screen.
“Speak of the devil,” he said, handing the phone to her, “It’s Nate.”
“What does he want?” Sara asked, then held the phone up to her ear, “Nate, what do you want?”
“Avery’s saying she doesn’t feel good,” Nate replied.
“Okay,” Sara replied, slowing down so she could process what Nate was telling her, “What’s she saying is wrong?”
“She says she has a sore throat.”
“Did you give her Tylenol or cough medicine or something?”
“No. I don’t have any kid’s medicine.”
Sara closed her eyes, “You agreed to take Avery for the night and you don’t have children’s medicine? Where do you have her sleeping, the floor?”
“Sara,” Leonard said warningly, but when she looked to him, there was a hint of a smirk on his lips.
“Look, take a regular Tylenol pill and cut it in half,” she told Nate, “That’ll work. Oh, and she can’t swallow pills because she’s four, so you have to crush it and put it in ice cream or something and have her eat that.”
“Okay,” Nate said.
“And if it starts to be too much, call me and I’ll come get her. I won’t hold it against you,” then she added, “Probably.”
“Okay,” he repeated. He hung up. Sara tossed the phone onto the couch and exhaled heavily.
“Ave doesn’t feel good?” Leonard asked.
“No, of course not,” she said sardonically, “because why would anything in my life be easy.”
Leonard didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry,” Sara said, her voice softer as she uncrossed her legs and curled up against his side.
“You keep telling me that and I’m not really sure why,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Because everything was hard for so long and we kept almost dying and then after the Markov device things were actually normal for a while, and then hurricane-Nate showed up and now everything’s crazy and you’re all caught up in it when you shouldn’t have to be.” Sara stopped to take a breath, “You should want…better, or…easier.”
“I want you,” he replied, “and anyway, I gave up on normal after the particle accelerator exploded and the Flash showed up. Besides, I…doubt…this Nate thing will last.”
“What do you mean?” Sara asked, propping herself up on her elbow to better meet his eyes.
Leonard hesitated, searching for the right words.
“My dad would always come home from prison wanting to be a better man, and he tried. For the first few weeks, he was a good dad and a good husband, but he never could make it last. A job would go badly or my mother wouldn’t have dinner on the table at the right time or I got on his bad side, and he would lose it. My father was a man who couldn’t do a job if it wasn’t easy,” he paused, “He didn’t know how to keep trying.”
“You think Nate’s gonna be the same way?” Sara asked.
“Well, considering he didn’t try to stay with you when you told him you were pregnant, he’s not off to a great start,” he replied, “He hasn’t had any…challenges…with her yet. We’ll have to see how he does when they do happen.”
“That’s why I didn’t want Ave to know he’s her dad,” Sara said, “I wanted to give him the time to back out if he wanted to, so she wouldn’t be disappointed and he wouldn’t be known to her as ‘the dad who left and didn’t come back’ for the rest of his life. I know he thinks I was doing it to spite him, but I really wasn’t. I don’t hold anything against him anymore.”
Leonard raised his eyebrows.
“Not that much,” she corrected.
He let out a sigh.
“I just don’t want to see her disappointed by her dad’s inability to do his job, because I know what that’s like,” he said.
“Well she’ll always have you,” she said, nudging his side. He said nothing, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hint of a smile on his lips, “I’m serious. She loves you so much that it’s actually kind of crazy. I can tell she hates calling Nate her dad because the bond the two of you have is like nothing else. She doesn’t feel it with him like she does with you. No matter what he does, and no matter how long he stays, you’re her dad, not him.”
The next morning, Sara met Nate in the lobby of the hotel to pick Avery up.
She was only waiting a minute or two before they arrived. Nate was holding Avery’s hand in one of his own and her backpack in the other.
Avery didn’t look to be in great shape, although that made sense considering she clearly had come down with something. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were drooping. The usual bounce in her step was noticeably lackluster.
Nate looked downright exhausted.
“How’d it go?” she asked as Avery let go of Nate’s hand and ran into her arms.
“Uh, it was good,” Nate nodded, handing Sara the purple backpack.
“Good,” Sara nodded, “Hey, sorry she wasn’t feeling good.”
“No, don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, “It happens.”
“Well, I know we have to head back to Central, but we can schedule another visit. We could do the same overnight thing if you wanted, or she could even stay longer if you were up for it.”
“Yeah totally,” Nate nodded, “but my work schedule is so crazy right now. Why don’t I check when I’m free and I’ll let you know what works?”
“Sure,” she replied. Nate nodded.
“Uh, so have a safe trip home,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“Bye Avery.”
“Bye,” Avery replied, pulling away from her mother to wave at him.
Nate turned and walked towards the tall glass doors and then he was gone.
Sara started towards the elevators with Avery in tow.
“I’m sorry you don’t feel good,” she said, “Did you have fun with your dad anyway?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’d you do?”
“We made pizza outta bagels and then we watched Tangled.”
“That’s fun, you love Tangled,” Sara replied, “Do you want to press the button?”
“Yeah!”
Sara pointed to the button with an up arrow and watched Avery enthusiastically jab at it. A moment later, the metal doors parted and they stepped inside the elevator.
“What else did you do with him?” Sara asked.
“Can I do this button too?”
“Seven,” she replied, “What else did you do with your dad?”
“We played go-fish. He won a lot.”
“Oh, well that’s okay. You can’t win every game. Is that all you did?”
Avery shrugged before lapsing into a coughing fit.
“Where’s Daddy?” she finally got out.
“We’re almost there,” she said as the elevator doors parted. She led Avery down the carpeted hallway to their hotel room, letting them inside.
Leonard was sitting on one of the beds, legs crossed at the ankles, reading a book. He looked up when they walked in.
“Hey,” he said, closing the book and setting it on the quilt beside him, “How’d it go?”
Avery tiredly crossed the room and climbed into the bed beside him.
“I don’t feel good, Daddy,” she said, curling against his side.
Leonard pulled Avery closer to him, running his knuckles up and down her arm.
“That’s not fun” he said. Avery shook her head, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. He looked up and met Sara’s eyes, “So how’d it go?”
She shrugged, “Avery says she had fun, didn’t you, Ave?”
Leonard felt Avery nod, her messy curls brushing against the base of his neck.
“I wanna go home,” she said.
“I know,” Sara said, “We will. Soon. We just need to say bye to Ollie and Auntie Lissy before they go on their honeymoon.”
Avery didn’t answer.
Leonard held the back of his hand against her forehead.
“She has a fever,” he told Sara.
“Ave, did your dad give you any medicine this morning?”
“No,” she replied. Sara let out frustrated sigh.
“I’m gonna run out and get her some Tylenol,” she said, grabbing her phone and wallet, “I’ll be right back.”
As Sara left the hotel room, Leonard lifted Avery onto his chest, an arm across her back bracing her from slipping off of him.
She curled up against him, her cheek against his chest.
“Can you read to me, Daddy?”
“Did Nate read you the books you packed?” he asked as he reached for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
“One of ‘em,” she replied, her arms locking around his neck.
“Where’d we leave off,” he asked.
“They’re in the Beavers’ house and Edmund left to find the snow lady,” Avery answered.
“Right,” he nodded, holding the book above Avery and opening it to the dog-eared page from a couple days ago.
They read two chapters before Sara returned and gave Avery her medicine.
“Felicity and Oliver are gonna meet us downstairs in twenty,” she told Leonard, tossing a pile of clothes into her suitcase.
He nodded, standing to help her pack.
After a few minutes, Sara noticed that Avery’s eyes had dropped closed, her fist loosening its hold on her bunny blanket.
“No, you can’t go to sleep, Ave,” Sara said. Avery whined as Sara lifted her up, sitting her on the end of the bed so her legs dangled towards the floor, “I know you don’t feel good and you can sleep in the car, but you’ve gotta stay awake to say bye to Auntie Lis, okay?”
Avery slumped somewhat pathetically over to one side.
“Here,” Sara said, holding out Avery’s backpack, “Take this and just wait a couple minutes and then we’ll go.”
Avery pulled the backpack onto her shoulders and stood by the foot of the bed until Sara said it was time to go.
“Ready?” she asked, taking her daughter’s hand. Avery nodded and followed Sara and Leonard out of the hotel room.
“Do you wanna push the button?” Sara asked her when they reached the elevator.
Avery shook her head, reaching towards Leonard. He lifted her into his arms as the elevator door opened.
Felicity was waiting for them when they arrived in the lobby of the hotel.
“Hey guys!” she exclaimed, smiling brightly.
“Hey Lis,” Sara said, hugging her friend, “Where’s Ollie?”
“I guess there’s an issue with our plane tickets?” she shrugged, “He’s off taking care of it.”
“Are you excited for Italy?”
“Hell yeah,” she replied, “It’s gonna be great. You guys are heading back to Central?”
“Yeah,” Sara nodded, “Ave’s not feeling great so we’re gonna get her back home.”
“Oh no,” she said, taking Avery from Leonard to give her a hug, “That’s not fun, Avie.”
Avery shook her head in agreement.
“I’m gonna miss you guys,” Felicity said, handing Avery back to Leonard.
“Me too,” Sara said, pulling Felicity into another hug, “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, hugging her back.
“Have fun in Italy,” Sara said, “Eat some gelato for me.”
“I will,” she nodded, “and when I get back it’s all about you.”
“Why me?”
“When I get back it’ll be only a month until your wedding.”
“Oh yeah. I guess you’re right.”
They heard the sound of vibrating. Felicity glanced down at her phone.
“It’s Ollie,” she said, “I should go.”
She gave Sara one last hug, waved to Leonard and Avery, and then was on her way.
During the following weeks, Nate took Avery overnight two more times. Sara had to admit she was starting to get tired of driving to Star City, but she knew it was the right thing to do, and besides, Avery seemed to be having fun with him.
Finally, the weekend before Avery started school again, Nate agreed to be the one to make the trip between their cities. He wasn’t taking her overnight this time, but, at Sara’s suggestion, was bringing her to a children’s amusement park a little outside Central City.
“Are you excited, Avie?” Sara asked that morning, pulling a patterned t-shirt and denim shorts out of Avery’s dresser.
“Yeah,” Avery replied from where she was sitting on her bed, “Wait it’s the one that we went to at my summer camp right?”
“Uh-huh,” Sara answered.
“Yeah!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and down on her knees, “It’s so much fun ‘cos there’s so many rides, remember?”
“I wasn’t there, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Are you comin’ with us?” she asked, her voice muffled as she pulled her shirt over her head.
“Nope. Daddy and I have to go work on the wedding with Lisa and Iris and everybody.”
“Can I come?”
“You’re going to the amusement park with your dad, Ave.”
“Oh yeah.”
Sara watched as Avery pulled on her shorts.
“You ready?” she asked, “He’s gonna be here soon.”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded, jumping off her bed and into the hallway, “Wait, can we do daily bubble?”
“Do you want to wait and do it with your dad?” Sara asked her.
Avery paused, thinking.
“No,” she decided, “I wanna do it now.”
“Okay,” Sara shrugged, following Avery out onto the balcony
“Daddy!” Avery called over her shoulder, “Come do the daily bubble!”
“He’s at the grocery store, babe,” she told her.
“Is he gonna be back before I go?” Avery asked as she pulled the plastic top off the tupperware container holding the bubble soap.
“Maybe,” Sara replied, picking up the bubble wand, “He told me to tell you to have fun for him in case he isn’t, though. Ready?”
Avery nodded. Sara slowly dragged the pink plastic wand through the air until the bubble formed, bouncing through the air, wobbling as the wind pushed it in different directions.
“One,” Avery was counting, “Two…three…four…five.”
Sara joined for, “Six…seven…eight.”
And then it popped when a particularly strong gust of wind blew it into a nearby telephone pole.
“Aw,” Avery pouted.
“Hey, that one wasn’t that bad,” Sara told her, putting the lid back on the tupperware container, “C’mon, come put your shoes on and wait for your dad.”
A half hour later, she was still waiting for Nate.
Leonard had returned to the apartment about ten minutes earlier.
“Sorry, traffic — hey, why’s Avery still here.”
After another thirty minutes, Sara tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up.
“Mommy, where is he,” Avery asked, hanging off the back of the couch.
“I dunno, honey, he’s probably just running late.”
A full two hours after Nate was supposed to show up, the phone finally rang. Leonard picked it up.
“Hello?” he said, although he suspected he already knew who was on the other end.
“Hey, it’s Nate.”
“Avery’s here waiting for you,” Leonard told him, not bothering with small-talk.
“Yeah, so there’s a problem,” Nate said, “I’m not gonna make it.”
“What?” he asked, anger creeping into his voice before he could stop it.
“I got put on the schedule at work by accident and we’ve been super busy lately so I didn’t think I should just cancel. Sorry this is last minute.”
“You were supposed to pick her up at seven-thirty, and now it’s almost ten,” Leonard said, “That’s not last minute, that’s late.”
“I know,” he said apologetically, “Look, I have to go. Tell Sara I’m sorry.”
Before he could say anything, Nate hung up. Leonard closed his eyes, letting out a deep exhale.
A moment later, the apartment door opened and Sara and Avery walked in, the latter pushing her bike by the handlebars. Sara stopped when she saw the phone in Leonard’s hand.
“Ave,” she said, “go put your bike in your room and play for a little bit, okay?”
When Avery was in her room, Sara said, “He’s not coming.”
Leonard shook his head.
“He said something came up,” he told her, “He told me to tell you he’s sorry.”
“I’m sure he is,” Sara shook her head. There was a sadness in her eyes as she walked closer to him. She sighed, “It can’t just be easy.”
He pulled her into a hug.
“It can’t just be easy,” he repeated.
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fanficwriter013 · 7 years
Text
The Ties That Bind (Part 4/?)
Pairing: Clint X Reader
Summary: Clint makes it his mission to win you over. He succeeds, but you don’t believe in marriage. Can the two of you stay together without the promise of wedding bells in the future? What about when the two of you are forced to go undercover as a married couple?
Word Count: 1937
Warnings: Clint signs, nesting behavior, puns, AoU spoilers, character death (but not really), zombies, angst, safehouse, Sam Koenig.
A/N: I brought this chapter into AoU, so spoilers for that. 
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 /
Clint had been doing all the wedding planning, and that was perfectly fine with you. It was, his wedding, after all, you were just a participant. The funny thing was, was that it seemed like the one with all the nerves was Clint and you were as cool as a cucumber. You’d told him that you would be prepared for a bridezilla, and you were waiting for it.
What you hadn’t been prepared for, was him to make a nest and hide away. Natasha had told you that he had missed a training session with her, and that wasn’t like him. You’d had FRIDAY locate him, and he was in the training room. In the rafters.
“What you doing up there?” You asked, and he shifted ever so slightly. “Are you giving me the silent treatment?” You called up to him, and he turned around. “Fine, I’m coming up there.” You yelled, looking around trying to figure out how to get up into the rafters. You had tried to use the corner to get some leverage, and you just barely managed to grab the rafter. Clint had grabbed your forearm and had helped you up.
“Thanks, babe. So why are we nesting?” You asked as the archer pulled you into his side, draping an arm around you. “I. I’m not gonna lie. I think I’ve got cold feet. And I was the one that wanted this, it doesn’t feel right to have cold feet.” He said, and you chuckled.
“You can have cold feet, this is a big life changing decision. You shouldn’t feel pressured. If you don’t wanna go through with it. We don’t have to do anything. You know I’m committed with or without the fancy clothes, and the toasts.” You said, lacing your fingers together with his. With your other hand, you reached into your hoodie pocket. “You know, you make my heart beat.” You said, handing Clint the beet you had stashed into your pocket.
“Oh my god, you’re so cheesy,” Clint said, and a light bulb flashed in front of you. “But it’s gouda.” You said, with a smirk. Clint just groaned at you. He didn’t say anything, but if there was any space between the two of you, it was now gone. Clint held you tightly against his side, and you let your head rest on his shoulder. You knew your archer well enough that if he needed some quality time, you could just sit here and wait.
“Okay, I think I’m good now.” He said, pressing a kiss into your temple. The alarm sounded then, which meant that the Avengers needed to assemble. You and Clint shared another second together, before separating. You flipped off the rafter, rolling to a standing position. Clint used one of the beams in the room to slide down.
It was a different mission, a follow up to one the rest of the team had been on last week to Sovokia. You were going to Africa in pursuit of Ultron. The mission started out fine, sure you were out numbered but this was the Avengers. Nothing could stop them. The enemy were falling left and right, and you were feeling a little useless because you needed to be close to subdue.
Inside, the base everyone split up to cover more ground. You were covering a long hallway by yourself. It was quiet and seemed to be far too empty. Your suspicions were confirmed when you hear footsteps, and then a beam of red light was being hurled at you. The next thing you knew, you were in a demolished building. It looked like the HYDRA base but it had been reduced to rubble. A beeping noise, from one of Clint’s new tracker arrows, sounded. The sickening feeling that swept over you was almost paralyzing, but you were also headed for the noise without conscious regard.
You turned the corner, the hallway you had been in was mostly intact. The sight before you churned your stomach into knots. The wall had collapsed onto Clint, and his legs were pinned underneath it. His face was all beat up, but it looked familiar. A sense of deja vu nagged at you until you realized this was Vega’s face. The Archer looked up at you.
“(Y/N), we should have retired. I’m dead now, and it’s all your fault. But I told you, you’re never gonna get rid of me. Not even zombie me.” It was forced and rasped. But it did the job, it was what you feared most. You were dependent on Clint, and your world would end without him. You startled back to reality, heart pounding inside your chest, gasping for air. Your comms were a hot mess of different voices all shrieking different comments, and orders.
Your (E/C) eyes swept along the hallway you were in, nothing was disturbed. You heard an order wash over the chaos of the comms, fallback. With your nerves rattled, and the base sounding empty, you didn’t have to be told twice. You retraced your steps back to the quinjet, where it looked like you got off easy. You were the last one back, but besides your mental scars, you were unscathed. The others were not as lucky.
You swept over the faces trying to find Clint, heart rate spiking when you couldn’t find him. That is until you realized he was currently holding down the pilot’s seat in the plane. No one made eye contact, no one spoke. It seemed that everyone was waging an internal war against their own demons. You’d taken a seat as close as you could get to Clint. He would steal glances at you, blue eyes wide with concern.
Clint had landed the quinjet in a clearing outside of one of the old SHIELD safehouses. It was surprising that the inside of the house wasn’t all that dusty. It had been at least a year since you had used it, and you hadn’t heard of anyone else taking residence in it. Being more in the mood to avoid your issues, than you were actually curious, you checked the fridge. It wasn’t empty.
“Didn’t realize I had company. You’re going to need security badges.” A dry voice said from the top of the basement stairs. You turned to face the ex-SHIELD agent. “Sam?” You question, wondering which brother this was. You thought it was Sam, but you weren’t fully convinced. Until the man nodded.
“Hey, Sam. We need some time to regroup, maybe some Avengers trust building exercises. Didn’t realize you’d taken up residence here.” You couldn’t tell if Clint was joking, or if he was being serious right now. You chose to ignore that and looked back to Sam.
“Can we get those badges, I want to go take a shower.” You said, you wanted to wash away the battle, and hopefully the feeling of having someone able to manipulate your mind. Sam gestured for you all to follow as he descended the stairs into the basement.
“I’ve done some upgrades to the safehouse. The upstairs is mostly untouched, so you can still take the rooms you had last. Your badges will scan you in, the only reason you made it into the house is because the power went out. I’m going to need your handprints as well.” Sam was always one for protocol, and you rolled your eyes. Stepping forward, you placed your hand on the scanner for it to go into the system. Then Sam took a picture and printed your security badge.
You’d bounded up the stairs, heading for the room you’d claimed as your own the last time you had been to this safehouse. You scanned the card to get into the room and were met with a blast from the past. It looked exactly the same as it had four years ago. You had been on a mission with Nat at the time and had needed to shelter before SHIELD could pick the two of you up. You’d left some clothes in the drawers, but the room was still as ugly as ever.
A beeping alerted you to the door unlocking, and you turned as Clint entered the room. “How’d you talk the robot into giving you access?” You asked, and he shrugged at you. The next thing you were aware of was the two of you sharing an embrace. Your hand had found its way to rest on Clint’s unharmed cheek. You weren’t sure who had closed the distance, and it didn’t matter.
“You know, I’m not the biggest fan of mind control.” He said, and you couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped you. You had been away on a mission during the Battle Of New York and hadn’t been informed about it until well after. Needless to say, you were quite proud of Jane after Thor had informed the team that she had punched Loki in the face.
“I think I’m ready to seriously consider retirement.” You said, and Clint pulled back to look at your face. “Okay, I know what I said. But, we’re human as hell. And I don’t think I can take much more of this thinking I’m gonna lose you stuff, and I could be like a personal trainer or teach self-defense classes. I mean I have the physique of an ethereal being after all.” You hadn’t been able to stop the words once you had started, and you had just let the words rush out. But you still wanted to make light of the situation.
“Is that what you saw?” He asked, hooking a hand under your chin. His ice blue eyes were scanning your face, trying to read you. You wanted to tell him what you’d seen, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to get through it. You were sure the only reason why you were still standing right now was because of Clint’s arms.
“It was Vega’s face. You were, you had used the tracking arrow. The base had collapsed. You were pinned, you were gone. Then you were. Zombie, you was saying how we should have retired, but that I’d never. That you had promised.” It was worse than you thought it would be. Your stomach had folded in on itself, your legs were jello, and your throat felt like it was closing in. Clint had pulled you into him and had been rubbing your back soothingly.
“Hey, hey. Stop it. I’m right here. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Let’s not go making any rash decision here. You’d make a great self-defense instructor or a personal trainer, but you love this line of work. Even if Tony does make you a cover like Hayden’s.” He was trying to lighten the mood and had earned a small choked chuckle from you. He pressed a kiss into the top of your head. “I love you, you know that right?” It was a rare moment for the two of you to speak so plainly, and you could count on one hand the number of times Clint had said those three words. Hell, you could count on one hand the number of times the both of you had said it. Assassins didn’t like to be vulnerable, but that was exactly what a relationship was supposed to do.
“It’s cause I’m awesome.” You quip at him. “But, I love you too.” You give him a quick peck on the lips and make for the bathroom. The temptation of the steamy hot water, making you aware of the ache in your muscles from the almost nonexistent fight you were in today.
Part 5
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