#i did not put him in anything and just went ham on Colors instead

[grim-echoes]

[ TAKE ME THROUGH THE FIRE ]

[erigold13261]

What would be each arachnikid’s last straw to turn against Nueva York in the NSpideR AU? Would there be a misunderstanding between Miles and everyone else?

I wouldn't say there were misunderstandings really, at least among the arachnikids. They all knew what Miles wanted and either their goals were the same or aligned enough with Miles to go with him.

Honestly, with how the arachnikids were treated, they didn't need a lot of pushing to turn against Nueva York, especially since their control over their powers wasn't really getting all that much better with the current teachings.

I'd probably say that Gwen, Ham, and Pav were the three that needed the most convincing. Ham came to Nueva York voluntarily, Gwen is using this place as an escape from notes home live, and Pav (although brought against his will) did truly think Nueva York could have helped him control his powers and so had to be convinced by Miles' knowledge of like positive reinforcement to control powers instead of suppression.

Noir was probably on the fence a little bit at first. They're not even here to learn how to control their power, they are there to try and fix their color problem. But since meeting Miles they don't really care about that all that much, so was actually really easy to convince to join the revolution.

Peni too would have been on the fence, but also easy to convince. Kinda like Gwen, Peni was using Nueva York as another home, for stability and care. However, it's not doing the best job at that and the constant control over kit and restrictions to passions such as technology pushed Peni to be easily brought on board Miles revolution plans.

Margo was an easy one to convince. She was already miserable at home and just a little less miserable at Nueva York. At least here she got some attention, but she realized she now has friends and people that actually care about her and not about her powers or what she can do for other people. So she easily went along with the revolution.

And then Hobie. We already know they were basically trying to start the revolution even before Miles came to Nueva York. If anything, Hobie was the one to put the whole revolution idea into Miles head, which Miles was able to put in a way to convince the rest to join.

Ganke and Gayatri were confused about what was going on when Jonathan met them, but they were pretty easy to convince once they got some proof that Jonathan was in contact with Miles and Pav respectively. Otherwise I doubt those two would have ever trusted Jonathan as he was just a random guy to show up.

Speaking of Jonathan, I know he's not an arachnikid, but the only reason he even wanted to help the revolution in the first place was because he went to Olivia for help but she wasn't treating him like a friend anymore. She looked at him with resentment and some hate, but also a fascination to want to experiment and learn more about his new powers. Which made him leave and hide from Nueva York, until he somehow met and talked with Miles and started to help him since Miles advice on controlling powers started to work for Jonathan.

[jjkyaoi]

you guys know about the whole "clara being tommy's mother" or "tommy being a galaxy child" au?? yeah well, i yelled about it w my friends on discord and we came up w the idea of tommy having fucking star freckles on his cheeks, or his shoulders or, anywhere because he's the child of the galaxy, and these stars glow according to the emotions he's feeling, and let me tell you when i say i went fucking ham i mean i went fucking ham.

—tommy's stars glow really bright yellow whenever he's happy, and he looks like a human highlighter, and it's very hard to hide. whenever wilbur would compliment him on his stars he'd always whine and try to hide his face because it was "embarrassing", but wilbur would always pry open his hands and smile at him gently and go, "why are you hiding? i wanna see your pretty stars". and tommy would always glow so bright because of that.

—he was bullied in the past by his peers because of his abnormalities, used to be made fun of because he wasn't normal — because he wasn't like the other kids, and so he got to a point where he was ashamed of how he looked and always tried to hide his stars with makeup, but the light would always glow through according to how he felt. until he met tubbo, who was fascinated w how he looked, who looked at him with awe instead of hatred, who always asked questions that didn't hold spite or hatred or disgust, and whenever he glew tubbo would always look at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. tommy would always ask him if he hated his stars — hated his abnormalities, and tubbo would always go, "no. why would i hate something to perfect about you?"

—an addition, whenever tommy's sad his stars would glow blue, and whenever tubbo would find him like that he'd always go all soft, and he'd ask in a very soft voice, so full of care and love, "who made you all blue?" and when he wouldn't answer tubbo would take it in stride, beginning to compliment things he loved about him, beginning to talk about how much he loved tommys stars, how cool they were, how unique and pretty and lovely they are, and tommy would always end up glowing the brightest, brightest yellow.

—after the exile, however, tommy's stars begun to dim. they began to slowly fade, like they were loosing their color, and they turned into a charcoal black and the more his stars dimmed, the more tired he got. they would occasionally flicker with color, whenever he felt something on the days he wasn't so alone, but it was always just for a second and it wasn't ever bright. it looked like they were broken, because he was broken.

—before techno and tommy's pit fight, when wilbur was taunting him, he looked at his bright red stars from anger, and laughed at him, turning to techno to whisper, "look at how red he is! his ugly fucking stars, they're so vibrant! he's so upset!" and tommy felt..so ashamed, because wilbur always taught him that his stars were something to be cherished, were something to be loved because they "shined as bright as he did", and he always encouraged him whenever he felt bad about them, but here he was, taunting him about them.

—whenever tommys injured, his stars sort of flicker like a broken light, dying out and becoming a pale white, looking as injured and broken and he does. after his duel with dream, when he lost, he was laying in the grass with broken, dully flickering stars, wilbur leaning over him and desperately begging him to stay awake, yelling at him that he couldn't go to sleep — not yet, not ever, and when he saw his stars..his stars that were slowly flickering out, just like he was, he begged him through tears: "show me a color, tommy, show me something. show me something, do — glow for me, tommy. glow for me, please."

—tubbo would always make it a game to count his stars - count how many of them he had, and he'd always ask questions about the colors they changed when he did that, always asked what the colors meant, and tommy never felt more appreciated. he never felt more loved that tubbo cared so much.

—dream wasn't so fond of his stars, during the days of his exile. they didn't glow much so it wasn't a problem, at first, but whenever they did — even if it was faint, barely noticeable, dream would look at him like he was a monster, like he was repulsive and disgusting to even be around. dream would always scold him whenever his stars grew, always laugh at him whenever they glowed blue (sadness), or red in anger, and always scoff whenever they turned yellow in happiness, until eventually he had enough. he came up to tommy with a mask — a white smiley face mask, telling him to put it on because he: "couldn't stand to look at his ugly fucking stars anymore. it's for the best. i'm doing what's best for you and everyone else, tommy."

—when techno visited him for the first time after the exile, laughing at him and bragging, he hadn't stopped because tommys freckles were growing red — his stars were only red, so he'd thought he'd just pissed him off a little, but while he was following him down the mine, laughing and taunting, tommy whipped around with bright, bright blue stars, that were flickering and vibrant and so sad, yelling at him through tears to just "go away!" techno stopped. he went silent. he didn't ever like when tommy was sad. he didn't ever like when his stars were blue. he went back home without saying anything, and didn't come back for a long time.

—phil always cherished tommy's stars, as well. he'd always brag to his friends about how cool his kid was, about how wonderful and unique he was, and whenever tommy was feeling bad about his freckles he'd always be the one in his corner. he used to call him his "little shining star".

—tubbo had a whole notebook dedicated to studying tommy's stars, he would write down little things he figured out or just things he liked, or he'd just ramble about how pretty they are, and when ghostbur gave tommy the compass as a gift in exile, he also gave him the notebook. tommy always reads over it at night, and even if he's read over it a million times before, it's the only thing that makes him feel — it's the only thing that makes his freckles glow the yellow in happiness that tubbo always liked.

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship (4): The Gargoyle Graveyard

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I apologize for having a very inconsistent writing schedule. I'm going to make it my goal to update on a bi weekly basis instead of leaving you all in silent limbo. Also a reminder I suck at figuring out which warnings to put so if there's something that needs to be forewarned that I failed to disclose please lmk!

Warnings: Mentions of heavy bodily injuries | childhood trauma/neglect | discussions/mentions of discrimination | mentions of virginity/sexual history

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AO3 version

Clay. Stone. Porcelain. Plaster. Metal. There are even gargoyles carved entirely of wood! Some statues are stand-alone works of art while others are part of a clear collection or series of similar inspiration. They even come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; as small as an apple or a towering height to rival Malleus himself. No matter what, each grotesque has been crafted with the utmost consideration, by well seasoned and knowing hands. Even the ones that have clear defects and cannot serve their intended purpose are free of overabundant ivy, weeds, or dust. There’s a clear degree of love and care the family who makes these statues has for their craft that makes him feel less alone in his interest in an uncherished form of art.

“It should be around here somewhere,” you muse aloud. Ever since he expressed interest in seeing more sculptures made with non-traditional materials, you’ve been keeping your eye out for a particular one that would fulfill his yearning. You eventually find it and eagerly point to it. “There it is!”

Malleus watches as you approach a massive-sized statue covered with a thick and half-wet tarp. He helps you remove the cover, revealing a winged and slightly humanoid canine. There are many more grotesques with a similar design, but what makes this one stand out the most is the material it’s made out of.

“Amazing!” Malleus awes. “I’ve never seen a grotesque of this size made entirely of glass! They’ve even managed to maintain their attention to detail despite such an abnormal material choice.”

“You can even see the inner channel where the water would flow in and redirect out of its mouth,” you notice.

“They even went out of their way to make it functional despite it being unfit for actual installation?” Malleus inquires with disbelief. “Such a shame.”

“If you’re looking to buy anything here, I’m afraid it's a lost cause. One of the first warnings the grandfather gave me is that none of these are for sale.”

“What was his second warning?”

“If we damage anything, even as small as a scratch, he’ll kill us.”

“How charming,” he chuckles. “I cannot blame him. These statues must take weeks to complete. Time is a human’s greatest enemy.”

“For some, sure. But when I went to visit the family and talked to the old man, he was lunging around all this heavy equipment like he was still in his prime,” you recall. “He lives for his craft. If there’s anything humans are at risk of their entire lives, it’s a lack of motivation and reason to live.”

“I suppose that’s true, but the lifespan of humans and the inevitable effects of aging is difficult to live with, especially once it begins to hinder one’s ability to do what one could previously do without issue. ”

“You’re not wrong,” you acknowledge. “But I think I’d rather live a short life with fulfillment than a dull, long-as-shit life.”

To show that he’s entirely on your side, Gunter lets out a guttural bark while his tail rapidly wags and thumps the damp ground, coating the ends of his bushy tail in specs of dirt and dirtied, remnant snow of the north that has managed to stay frozen on the isles warmer south end.

“You’re only agreeing with them because you’ve been promised food,” Malleus chastises. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on your grumbling stomach.”

“And don't think I didn't pick up on your stomach rumbling either your highness," you quip back at him. "The family has a small cottage nearby we can use. We'll settle down for a bit and eat before sightseeing some more."

Before you turn and walk in the direction towards the aforementioned lodgings, you reach your hand out for Malleus to take and he latches onto you with restrained enthusiasm. He's taller than you, but he takes care not to take his normal strides as to not leave you struggling to keep up with him. Gunter doesn't know the way, so he trots beside you every step of the way up until the destination is in plain view. The cottage is small but well-attended. There’s a rustic flair to its construction that makes it feel familiar and safe despite never stepping foot in it before.

"Those gargoyles were something, huh?" you remark to him while you tap and shake off the gunk wedged into the soles of your heavy boots against the frame of the door.

"Indeed," he nods, taking your cloak off for you and hanging it on the wooden rack nearby. "I don't think I've ever seen that many gargoyles in one day. Just when my eyes land upon an intriguing one, there's several more that catch my attention."

The way he gets all wide-eyed is outright adorable. It makes you grin just as enthusiastically too. "I bet your club is going to have a field day once you tell them about this!"

His child-like smile turns into one of disappointment. "I'm certain they would, if I wasn't the sole member that is."

Your hands halt from pulling out and setting down all the premade food out of your pack. "Seriously? You're the only one?"

When he nods his head, you feel a twinge of hurt in your heart. Poor guy. You can only imagine how disappointing it must be to go through all those lengths to start a club (you would know since you're technically a staff member of the school and have been given a rundown on some of the school's functions and regulations) only for no one to show interest. Of course, you completely understand that gargoyles aren't exactly all the rage within the minds of teenage boys. Still! He goes through so much effort to build relationships with his peers but they always cower away, either due to his status or even because of the way he looks. You won’t deny that he does come off as rather intimidating at first glance, but he's a sweet guy once you give him the chance to speak.

But to expect teenagers going through social pressures and demanding academics to be as understanding and willing to understand someone like Malleus is an impossible demand. Given that everyone in the school can be a bunch of self-centered and easily agitated bunch of pricks, it's understandable that most of the student body isn't keen on trying to take into consideration the proper etiquette one needs to consider in the presence of a young and noble fae. Deuce has met and talked briefly with Malleus on one occasion, but even he visibly shakes whenever his name is mentioned, even in casual passing.

Wait until they found out who you've gone and gotten buddy-buddy with behind their back. They probably think they're slick or that their intentions are well swept under the rug, but it's clear they feel some semblance of responsibility for your well-being, as both a magicless individual as well as a close, albeit older, friend. You dread the day people begin to make the connections between Malleus and you, but you still can’t help but wonder what their reactions might be. You also dread the high probability those two idiots are going to find out and embarrass the living hell out of you, which you know you do not have the patience or tolerance for.

Gunter jumps up and sits himself down in one of the wooden dining chairs, pushing the small ceramic plate towards you with his nose, as if telling you "Alright, I’ve done what I said I'd do, now feed me what I'm owed." You tell him that you'll give him what he's well earned after you get a small fire started in the brick fireplace. Just because it's warmer near the southern half of the island and not as heavily blanketed with snow, doesn't mean the cold has completely vanished, Winter is still winter after all.

"Where did these scars come from?"

Malleus' unexpected question and closeness nearly make you drop the iron rod you've been using to stoke the growing fire. You've since taken off your boots and rolled up the bottoms of your pants just above your knee as the room starts to warm up enough for a thin layer of perspiration to accumulate and roll down your skin. The scars he's referring to are the ones on your right leg, both side by side at an awkward angle and discolored. You have a lot more scars than these, some much more gruesome in appearance than these two. Malleus has never asked about your scars, but sometimes you catch him looking in the general area of some that peak through your clothes. He likely keeps quiet about their existence out of courtesy.

Yet out of all the markings on your body, why did these two stand out enough that he'd finally ask about them?

"It's a long story," you say in an effort to stall the topic. "Sit. I'll feed you two once the fire is stable."

He doesn’t push you for an answer, instead simply doing as you say and lets you poke at the burning logs until they're properly aflame on their own. You made mostly some of your morning favorites; Creamy and thick potato stew with diced carrots and peas and some eggs, ham, and crispy hash browns sandwich between homemade halved croissants. You teased him about having picky taste buds earlier, but Malleus is content to eat anything you serve him so long as it is not comparable to the likes of Lilia's atrocious cooking.

(Seriously, how does a man as old as Lilia not know the basic fundamentals of cooking? And why does everything he makes end up burnt and tasting like something rotten? You will never understand.)

"Don't eat too quickly," you warn Gunter as you pour a bit of light-colored soup onto his designated plate. Your words are ignored, as the equally marred wolf sloppily slurps and munches on the few bits of potatoes and vegetables you generously scraped out of the thermos. His food is gone as quickly as it’s put in front of him and he looks at you expecting more.

"No. The rest is mine," you scold. "And don't beg Malleus for some either! I know you do it behind my back, you little shit!"

He turns to look at Malleus with an accusatory glare, thinking that he ratted him out to you. Malleus’s response towards the silent imputation is to turn and look out the window as if something caught his interest all of a sudden, cup raised to his lips as he politely sips away at his meal without an air of calmness. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the amusement that overtakes your senses.

"Malleus, stop that!"

"Stop what?" he innocently asks.

"Stop making me want to laugh!"

He sets his cup down onto its matching serving dish. "It's not my fault you have an easily satiable sense of humor."

"Wow!" you say incredulously and put your arms up in offense. "And here I was thinking we were friends!"

His distant demeanor breaks and you both devolve into a fit of laughter together. Gunter unfortunately takes advantage of your joint distraction and slips away with a warm sandwich between his jaw, your sandwich in particular.

"That damn wolf!" you curse. "I knew I should have trusted my gut and pack extras.”

Malleus pities your distress before moving over to sit closer. "Worry not. I'll split mine in half with you,” he reassures.

"No, it's fine," you immediately dismiss his offer. "Have it for yourself."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he firmly states. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s far too early for that.”

"I thought you liked it when I was stubborn?” you pout.

He shakes his head with a smile. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t”

"At least someone likes my attitude,” you say after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of soup. “Sebek certainly doesn’t."

"The boy is stubborn as well. When two equally stubborn individuals cross paths, you will witness nothing but discord between the two."

"Add the fact I'm human into the mix, and we'll be exchanging fists instead of words sooner or later," you scoff. "I get that some faes don't like humans, but what's his deal with acting like he’s got a vendetta against me?"

"Sebek doesn't hate humans for the reasons you might think," Malleus admits. "It’s more like he finds them difficult to think that highly of. Did you know that he is half-human?"

You nearly choke on your own breath over the sudden revelation. "Really?"

"Indeed," Malleus finds amusement at your disbelief. "Have you ever wondered why his ears aren't pointed like Silver, but his eyes are like mine and Lilia’s?"

"Damn,” you scratch the back of your head with embarrassment. “Now I feel stupid.”

"You aren't. Given the way he speaks, not many would assume he had human blood in his veins. His mother was highly regarded within her social circle, but her marriage to a human man tarnished her reputation a great deal. She's happy and does not seem to care what others think of her these days. However, when Sebek set out to be a knight, his mother's marriage and his lineage were often brought up as a way to scrutinize his character and capabilities rather than any of his actual shortcomings as an individual."

"Poor kid," you sigh. "Lilia told me those sorts of things still happen in The Valley, but it sounds so outlandish that I couldn’t take it that seriously."

"Many faes hold old traditions above all else, to a degree that the purity of one's blood stands above all other merits." His eyebrows pressed together in annoyance. "Even my grandmother thinks it's archaic, but as the reigning queen she has to embody a persona of neutrality between the social divide."

"It sounds like you have your work cut out for you in the future," you say, almost apologetically. "What do you plan to do about it once you're the king?"

There's a brief flash of surprise over your question, but Malleus easily answers it as usual. "I think my first course of action as king would be to properly knight Sebek and Silver."

"Bet my rifle that Sebek is going to cry the entire ceremony!" you remark with certainty. "That's all he ever goes on about, being a knight and all."

"He's devoted countless hours and efforts since he was a child. If there's anyone who deserves to join the knighthood, it's him."

"Definitely," you nod to further cement your agreement with him. "He could stand to lower his voice a bit. He'll give you tinnitus before long.”

"At least we won't have to worry about losing him in a crowd," Malleus jests.

"That's to say we'll lose sight of him to begin with," you remark. "He'll gladly lose me in a crowd. You? You'd be lucky to get out of arm's length."

"You underestimate me, dearest," Malleus smirks. "Ever since I've met you, I've perfected the art of avoiding Sebek's insistent searches."

"Have you now?" you razz back. "Don't let him catch onto the fact. He'll have my head."

He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Each second his skin touches yours makes you tingle. Time slows down ever so briefly if only to savor the small instance of physical connection for as long as possible. "What of your aunts?" he inquires. "Are they as overprotective of you as Sebek is of myself?"

"They’re a trio of mama bears," you proudly admit. "I'm old enough to drink and well equipped to fend for myself, but in their minds, I'll always be the little tyke that couldn't even eat their meals without looking at them for approval. Especially my aunt Gia."

You have three aunts. There's your aunt Marisol, the mother of most of your cousins and the main caretaker of the household. Your second aunt Lucia was well into her studies at university when you came to live with them, but her stress and long hours of mulling over her course materials paid off in the long run. Your gardening skills wouldn't be what they are now without her expertise in agricultural botany.

Then there's your aunt Gia. Oldest of the three. An absolute tank of a woman. No spouse. No kids of her own. She lived off the land like an absolute titan. The woman raised you as if she was the one that carried you for nine months and not your actual birth mother.

How would you describe your parents? If your parents were told to list out their priorities in life, their careers would be at the top of the list and you would be put at the very bottom. Why they carried you to term is beyond your understanding. You later learned that Gia had even offered to take you under her care well before your birth, knowing that your parents might not be well-suited to take care of you in the way she thinks would be beneficial for you. It was a convenient offer that would have saved everyone the trouble years down the line when you had your accident. They worked in a cutthroat industry and were constantly moving up the executive echelons. They had no time for you, yet their pride as a pair of young, successful business magnates made them incapable of seeing past the reality of the situation. That left you mostly in the care of last-minute caretakers and your aunts, but only if they had time from their own busy and preoccupied lives to come out into the city and visit.

You were eight years old when things started to get better, but it was upstarted in the worst possible way. Your parents had to go away for the upcoming weekend for work and left you in the care of a babysitter as per the norm. The babysitter never showed up however and your parents apparently couldn’t be bothered to check up on you even once the entire trip. Their silence wasn’t surprising. You just went on about your business for the next three days on your own like nothing was wrong. Your aunt Gia had even called at one point to check up on you, but you didn’t bother to tell her that your parents had left you to fend for yourself. She would have exploded if you did, but not as much as she did when you woke up in the hospital after falling down the stairs and lying helplessly on the ground for several hours with a dislocated shoulder and a compound-fractured leg. You were lulling in and out of consciousness due to all the medication pumped into you, but what little you do remember seeing and hearing when you regained consciousness will forever stick with you for the rest of your life.

If people think your level of swearing is bad, they should have heard your aunt that day. She swore so viciously that it could set an innocent bystander's eardrums on fire. What will forever stand out the most to you was the fact that your parents didn’t even look the least bit apologetic or regretful. They didn’t even approach you once your aunt was done giving them a piece of her mind to check up on you. They simply talked with the awaiting social worker and doctors and then left. It was for the better, but the small part of you that continued to hold onto the desperate belief that your parents would come around one day sent you into a thrashing frenzy and you had to be sedated before you could hurt yourself anymore.

The next year was spent recovering from your injuries, meeting regularly with your caseworker, and going through therapists like a pack of cigarettes. By the time you were back on your feet and the legal proceedings of your custody case were concluded, all you wanted was to move on with it all. Nearly a decade of neglect left you this unattentive, uncertain husk of a person who couldn’t take a single step forward without looking for some sort of guidance or assurance. Your family was exhausted by the entire ordeal and over speaking with third parties. Your aunts took it upon themselves to help you regain your sense of self in the comfort of your new home, no matter how difficult or demanding it was going to be.

“It took some time, but eventually it clicked in my mind that I was in a better place and I started to get better. As for my parents, I have no clue what they’re up to these days.” You lean back into your chair and let out a shaking yawn. “I like to think they’re getting on well like I am.”

“I don’t understand.” Malleus looks at you with unbelievable confusion. “Your parents treated you poorly, yet you don’t sound the least bit resentful. Why is that?”

You shrug your shoulders. “What’s the point? I'm in a better place now, so I've let bygones be bygones. 'Doesn't mean I don't harbor any anger against them anymore. I do, but getting upset won't change what's happened to me."

Gunter, having sensed your discomfort over the matter, trots over and rests his head on your lap. You gratefully rub the top of his head, carding your hands through his thick, coarse hair. "I'm just glad they let me go without a fuss. Family court was hell for my family.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Expensive too.”

Crackling wood fills the momentary silence that befalls the small cottage. What you've recollected to Malleus is a lot to take in, and if you're being quite honest you'd prefer if he just dropped the subject and talked about literally anything else right now. You hope he doesn't say he's sorry or any other type of apologetic comment. That's all you were ever told that entire year it all happened, during court proceedings, your rehabilitation, by both strangers and distant family members alike.

"I'm so sorry. What happened to you was unfortunate. You didn't deserve it."

No shit you didn't deserve any of that. You were a kid. You don’t need one pity party after another to realize that what took place then had fucked you forever. But as you said earlier, you're in a better place now, with a loving and supportive family that's moved on alongside you. A family you need to get back to as soon as possible.

"I love you."

Well, if he was hoping to take your mind off the past. that certainly did it. How can it not? It came out of nowhere and as good as you are at holding your composure when need be, you're sure you look no less like a gaping fish when warm and plush softness presses right against the corner of your lips. A kiss. His kiss.

"What's wrong?" Your voice sounds shaky. You’re nervous.

"Nothing," he smiles reassuringly. "I simply said what I felt needed to be said."

"Fair enough" you concede easily. He was going to say it sooner or later. He already has actually, now that you think about it. Yet here you are trying to process his words like it’s rocket science.

"Am I going about this too fast perhaps?" he genuinely asks. His hands that have been busy massaging your calves that have settled across his lap somewhere during your long retelling gradually slow down, but his hands never go completely still. "This is my first time experiencing something like this."

"What?" You sit up a bit straighter. "A relationship?"

"Yes."

Your head tilts to the side. "Really?"

He nods hesitantly "Yes?"

For a moment, you go completely quiet. "I don't believe you,” you doubtfully say, head shaking to further showcase your refusal to believe him.

He must not have liked your remark, frowning with clear offense in his eyes. When he dislikes something, the vertical slits in his eyes contract into a thin line. "I cannot lie, yet you still doubt me?"

"I know you can't lie, but I find it hard to believe you haven't been with anyone else before," you explain. Before you can consider the appropriateness that was your newfound curiosity about Malleus's apparently non-existent love life, you blurt out, "Are you still a virgin?"

You slap your hand over your mouth the moment those words come out of it. He's equally caught off guard and nearly drops his warm cup of coffee. Even Gunter is surprised by your question, olive-colored eyes looking at you as if you've lost your mind. It's an invasive question, inappropriate even. You and Malleus have been dating for a little over two days. A question like that is way too early to bring up just yet.

"You don't have to answer that," you tell him behind your palm. "I shouldn't have even asked it. Forget I ever brought it up-”

"I'm not," he interrupts you, leaving you even more shocked than you already are. You’re practically gaping like a fish by now. "I'm not a virgin,” he further insinuates.

A deafening silence, but it’s eventually broken by yourself. “I still don’t believe you.”

Malleus gets further annoyed at your refusal to accept his truth. "I'm not lying!" he insists.

"Bullshit!"

"Do you want me to recount my history to you?" he asks, exasperated as you are at the shift the conversation is taking. "Will that satisfy your doubts?"

"You know what? It will!" you loudly declare. "Who'd you sleep with?"

"He was a young page at the time,” he reminisced. “It happened before I was a century old.”

Your eyebrows raise with intrigue. "Was he cute?"

"Yes," he hushedly agrees. The disconcerting admittance paints his face a pinkish-red glow. "But that's not why I bedded him."

"But surely his looks are what made you interested in the first place?” you make blatant regard of the fact.

“You’re not wrong,” he acknowledges, expertly avoiding agreeing with you outright. “But his looks aren't the sole reason I was drawn to him. He was bright-eyed and ambitious, to the point you’d think him insane given his position in the court. It was also the first time I ever truly met with a group of humans, and my young mind was eager to get a more accurate perspective of humans that wasn’t through the lens of my tutors.”

“An ‘accurate perspective’?” You make playful air quotes, eyebrows wiggling because you know the fact that he knows what you’re implying. The playful comment is met with a sharp pinch on your leg that makes you jump and shriek out in pain. Did he have to dig his nails into you? Apparently so, and now you have small crescent indents on your skin. “I bet Lilia had a good laugh when he found out.”

“He doesn’t know, actually,” he admits to you with what is obviously a proud smile.

“Now I know you’re lying to me,” you scoff. “Nothing escapes the old man’s radar.”

His hands begin to rub out the marks he’s left on you as a form of apology. “Lilia is sharp, but he had lost most of his vigor by the time I was born.”

You go wide-eyed again. “You mean his hearing and eyesight was better than it is now?”

He nods affirmatively. “From what I’ve been told, terrifyingly so.”

Lilia is already frightening as is. His short stature and boyish looks make him perfectly unassuming to those who don’t know any better. You once watched him beat up a couple of bulky, twice-his-height students from Savanaclaw without breaking a sweat, yet moments before he was jokingly scolding himself for dozing off so easily. You never once thought he was ever out of his elements. A cold chill runs down your spine thinking how much more perceptive the older fae may have been back during his prime years.

“Wonder what Lilia’s gonna think,” you ponder out loud in a quick effort to banish out the skin-prickling mental imagery your mind was invoking. “About us, I mean.”

Malleus seems surprised that you would change the topic to that of all things, but his initial shock goes away as quickly as it came. “As you may have guessed, he’s an open-minded individual, but he’s also very realistic and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.”

“So what does that mean for you and me?” you question with a bit of hesitation.

“Well,” he trails off and ponders for a moment. “He’ll surely like the scandal our relationship would invoke. However, as my caretaker and mentor, he won’t hesitate to put an end to it if he feels it necessary.”

Had it been anyone else sitting beside you, you’d have found that comment way too extreme and outright ridiculous. However, you are not speaking to anyone ordinary. You are not sitting before someone normal. It doesn't matter how well you get along with him. It sure as hell doesn't matter how deeply in love you are with him, and him of you. The moment you have been deemed a shortcoming, the outings, the closeness, it all stops. All of it will come crashing down and both you and him will be left wondering what could have been done differently.

Malleus is truly your best friend, because already he can tell that your mind is beginning to spiral even when you go quiet. He calls for your attention by gripping his hand around your bare ankle and carefully tugging the end of your limb. “Don’t fret over it too much,” he soothes, yet also sounding like he’s scolding you for letting your mind wander off so negatively. “Lilia is an exceptional judge of character. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve well exceeded all his marks. He trusts you, and to gain such a thing from someone as old and wise as him is an extraordinary feat.”

You brew over the attempted compliment he tried to pay to you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t snub out all these festering thoughts in your head. It doesn’t even give you temporary relief. Perhaps it would have brought you a sense of peace a few months ago, but with everything that has happened thus far, you doubt even Malleus can alleviate the storm that rattles inside you, even if what he speaks is without a doubt nothing but the truth.

Surely he can see that you are still having some hangups. When you lift his hand and plant a chaste kiss on the back of his hand, you hope he can decipher the gesture as a pitiful request for his forgiveness for dampening the once energetic mood. He is not at fault for your loss and inability to think optimistically at the moment and you need to make sure he knows it.

Today is about him, not you. Even if it’s just for today, you’ll put on a pleasant facade and worry about the rest at a later date. It’s just you and him, and for now, that’s enough.

You do a mental countdown starting from three, before finally giving him a late response to the three words he uttered in confidence to you earlier. “I love you too, by the way.”

You love him. You love him. You love him. That’s all his mind can think of for the rest of the day. He replays your reciprocation over and over like it’s sacred and all-powerful.

He had planned to return to his dorm before the sun began to set, but he found the mere idea of detaching from you deeply unwanted and made the last-minute decision to spend the evening at the Ramshackle dorm. He already has a few articles of clothing and personal essentials set up in one of the many empty rooms, so neither Lilia nor you had any objections at his sudden request.

“Don’t worry!” You shout across the room so that Lilia can hear you over his phone. “I’ll make sure he gets to bed on time!”

“You have my gratitude!” Lilia’s muffled voice responds gratefully. “Don’t cause too much trouble now, you two.”

“No promises~” you sing in jest before Malleus hangs up. Once the call ends Johnny, Benji, Franky, and you turn their attention back to their ongoing game of poker. Malleus watches and occasionally laughs to himself over the friendly banter shared between the quartet. At the end of every round, the winner is assaulted with colorful profanities whilst they take their newly won gambling chips with ebullience. Yet with each new dealing of cards, the animosity goes away and they’re all back to being friendly. He finds your interactions with your incorporeal roommates more entertaining than the book he’s been reading to pass the time.

“Hey, fairy boy,” Franky informally calls out toward him. “Don’t be a stranger now. Play a few rounds with us.”

“I’m afraid I’m not well versed in card games,” he admits, yet he still finds himself setting his literature aside and moving over to join them.

“Don’t worry,” you give him a reassuring smile. “They’ll go easy on you.”

“For how long?” he knowingly asks.

You give him an impressed smirk at his quick uptake. “I give it three rounds before they start to pull back their sleeves.”

Malleus is well-adjusted to the need to quickly learn a new topic and the expectation for him to fully comprehend it in full. None of them are harsh on him for his minor mistakes like some of the tutors he’s had in the past. Answers that he believes may be obvious or not as complicated as he thinks they are being answered with enthusiastic patience. The smallest achievements he makes are met with a proud response. When he makes a surprise turnabout and wins his first game, he’s rewarded with an encouraging round of applause by everyone.

“Not bad,” Benji praises as he shuffles the deck of cards. “You’re a fast learner.”

“So I’ve been told,” he humbly replies. “Is this the part where you all stop going easy on me now?”

“Don’t provoke them,” you half-heartedly warn. “Otherwise we’ll be up all night duking it out otherwise.”

Franky sets his glass of iced liquor down on the edge of the table. “Don’t you little lovebirds worry. We won’t take up too much of your well-needed time together.”

Annoyed at the clear jab at his relationship with you, you throw one of your chips towards his head. It passes through his body and clatters on the floor behind him. Your fawn Blossom jumps down from their spot on the couch and goes to sniff it, thinking it to be food, but walks away with a disappointed strut when he realizes it isn’t anything edible.

“I didn’t tell them a damn thing,” you defensively clarify. “It was so obvious what was going on between us that they figured it all out before we made it official.”

He lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s...I can’t say I’m too pleased to hear about that.”

“We won’t say anything,” Franky reassures. “Just make sure to put a sock on the door whenever you guys want some alone time.”

“Franky!” you hiss at him. “What the hell?!”

“What?” he looks at you, unbothered by your clear embarrassment. “Do you honestly expect us to think you guys went out just to look at a bunch of statues?”

“Oh, I’m sure they were looking at something,” Johnny smirks. “It wasn’t made of stone though.”

“I hate you guys,” you growl out, arms crossing and leaning back into your seat with an angry huff. You don’t mean it. He can see the tremble of your lips as you try to contain the urge to grin. “Even if we did end up rolling around in the sheets, I wouldn’t be yapping about it for all to hear, much less you guys!”

“What happens in the gargoyle graveyard stays in the gargoyle graveyard, eh?” Franky winks at both Malleus and you, nudging you with his elbow.

“Exactly!” you affirm, batting the large ghost away from you for some much-needed distance. “Now stop being so damn nosy.”

They cackle one last time and everyone seamlessly goes back to their ongoing game. Conversations like the one that just concluded are commonplace in your dormitory. Even if he contributed next to nothing to the discussion, he enjoys watching them interact. You come from a world where ghosts are hardly as overt as the ones in this world. Ghosts are said to entertain themselves by picking on the living, to the point that it can be fatal. Your ability to come up with witticisms at a moment's notice is something he enjoys seeing in action. He feels great satisfaction not only knowing that he has secured your love but to also see you in a state of tranquility and within your elements.

As Benji and you have a hushed conversation on the sidelines, he reaches over and places his hand on your knee beneath the table. You quietly reach over and put your hand over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb like it’s instinctual. Unfortunately, the heart-fluttering moment is ruined by the sudden buzzing of his phone. He has half a mind to ignore it, but when he gives the screen a glance he realizes ignoring the caller is not an option.

“I’ll be out for a moment,” he excuses himself once he sets his hand down and stands himself upright. “This shouldn’t take that long, hopefully.”

They all stop to look up at him inquisitively for half a second. In unison, they ask, “Sebek?”

“Sebek,” he affirms.

There are simultaneous displays of annoyance, pity, and silent wishes of good luck directed at him. He’s tempted to ask where all this contempt for the boy comes from, but then he remembers the many times Sebek barges his way into their dorm at the worst possible moments. It is either when everyone is beginning to settle down after a long day or in the middle of an important house project, the former more so than the latter now that the dorm is much more stable and in need of less restoration. Malleus learned the hard way how ill you and the ghosts will react when your peace is unwantedly interrupted and your space invaded by an unwanted guest.

Sebek is also quick to scrutinize whatever he sees out loud without a filter. You never seem to mind half of the time, merely rolling your eyes and moving past Sebek’s ill-meaning remarks as if you never heard them. As you are someone Malleus highly regards and holds close to his bosom, he hopes Sebek can one day set aside his strife with humankind and give you the due diligence you deserve.

...Though, he completely understands that reaching that point will take time. While you can endure Sebek to a certain degree, there are times where he, unfortunately, pushes you past that threshold and, without flinching, you will tell him to “Shut the fuck up”. Your words, not his.

“Young master!” Sebek's transmitted voice peaks and he has to half pull it away to give his pained eardrums some relief. “I was informed by Lord Lilia that you will be spending the night over at the Human’s dorm. Have you all your accommodations at their estate? If not, I will swiftly-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he half laughs at his enthusiasm over such a small task. “I have enough to keep me comfortable and well for a few days. Your offer is still very much appreciated.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” he stutters. “If there’s anything you should ever find a need for, please inform me at once! I will fulfill your every wishes no matter the hour!”

He’s enthusiastic and ready to act at a moment’s notice, even during the middle of a cold and dark hour. Malleus doesn’t necessarily dislike this part of Sebek, but he’s starting to understand why someone like you would find such subservience difficult to deal with. At any moment, Malleus could ask Sebek to grab some insignificant item of his and tread through the thick snow to deliver it to him, and the boy would do so with jubilation and utmost timeliness. You on the other hand wouldn’t be caught dead ordering someone to do something on your behalf when you believe you are well and capable of doing it yourself.

You don’t put expectations onto the backs of others, choosing to trust yourself first before anyone else. He knows now that it’s a result of the one instance where you expected something from someone, only to be thoroughly let down and left wondering if it was you who did something wrong.

Malleus cannot make up for the pain you’ve been subjected to, but he hopes that he can become the outlier in your life that surpasses any preconceived notions you may hold onto others. He hopes...No, he absolutely will be the one who brings you your well-earned and deserved joy and repose, just as you have done for him and continue to do so.

You love him, and he will ensure he is worthy of every last drop of your fidelity.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Erased Part 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, mentions of death and grave robbery, might get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 3870.

Summary: One night your friend calls to remind you about commemorating your classmate who had drowned many years ago. 

P.S. This was influenced by a Russian VN Opravdanie and some mourning rituals.

_____________________

One more evening. One more wasted day. With a grocery bag in your hand you kept walking the snowy streets of your home town where you spent all your life, never really trying to move somewhere: you had long decided there was no sense in going anywhere else even if your never changing routine was driving you crazy sometimes. Life was all the same in other places, too.

It was boring. Always quiet, always repetitive, always reminding you that it didn’t matter even if you’d forget the whole past year because it was all the same. A boring office job, small but stable salary, meetings with a couple of friends and fellow classmates from time to time, going to the same grocery store every week, returning to an empty apartment, spending your evening watching tv on the couch near a small radiator. Sometimes you would visit your parents or grandmother, listening to their concerns about you not having your own family yet and refusing to meet some son of their friends. Visits to another town close by were even more rare. You had never actually been to another country, and you had no idea what if felt like. Funny, but you didn’t even care.

You were stuck in that small snow-covered town where it had always been cold even when the gloomy summer was coming, and that was how it was supposed to be. You were destined to work somewhere you didn’t even like, one day marry a good for nothing guy and give birth to children who would inherit the same fate. There was nothing that could change - unless some hurricane would come and destroy the town at all. Then you would have to settle in some similar boring place and live the same way there.

Shaking off the snow from your hood, shoulders, and boots, you stepped into your apartment, happy it was much warmer inside - the radiator was working, thank goodness. As you hang your coat inside a hall closet, you brought the bag to the kitchen, lazily opening the fridge and looking at the meat leftovers and some porridge you cooked this morning. Uh-huh, you were too tired to make dinner, really. Some ham sandwiches would do.

Sitting on the coach again and watching some noir movie with a sandwich in your hand, you thought about how stupid your life was. What was you reason to live? Do some work nobody cared about? Making those silly reports nobody was going to read? Pleasing your parents with your mere presence? It was all you could think of, and the thought made you sad.

Suddenly, your phone rang, and you almost dropped the sandwich. Who was that? Your parents were going to bed early, and they didn’t really call you at this hour. Who was that?

Ah, Alex, a former classmate of yours who then studied in the same university as you. He was your good friend, and from time to time you were gathering in a cafe to chat about how things were going or just walked the streets together, complaining about your jobs.

“Don’t forget to commemorate Barnes today.” The message said, and you froze, furrowing your brows. Commemorate who?

That’s what you wrote to him, trying to remember who Alex was talking about.

“Barnes! Our classmate.” The next message said. “Remember when he got transferred to another school when we were 14? I’ve just talked to Anna, she said he drowned in the lake that year. Commemorate him today, it’s the day of his death.”

Oh shit. It’s true, you remembered that funny kid with a smile a mile wide and striking blue eyes all the girls were jealous of. How could you forget James? If you remembered well, you were kind of in love with him, but you were too young to really recognize your feelings and do something about them. Besides, when you thought of it now, you doubted James wouldn’t laugh at you. You two were just 14 years old, for God’s sake.

So, he died? Drowned? He probably wanted to take a shortcut through the lake instead of going through the whole park surrounding it, but that year the ice wasn’t strong enough to carry his weight, and he drowned just like several careless boys before him. Poor James. He was just a kid when it happened.

Suddenly, you realized how stupid of you was to think about your boring life and get upset over something so trivial. James was dead. You’d never chat about him with Alex and hear something about Barnes moving to some other city or getting a good raise or having a kid. He died. He was never going to get a job, marry someone, have children and live happily. You bet he would give anything for the boring life you were having.

Feeling cold, you stood up from the couch and headed over to the kitchen with a phone in your hand, a half-finished sandwich in the other. If it was the day of James’ death, you should really commemorate him: it meant having a drink and remembering something good about the boy, rest his soul. Maybe the next time you saw Alex you should talk about James with him, ask how did it really happen.

Despite you going through all the kitchen counters the only thing you found was some half-empty bottle of vodka probably forgotten by Alex or some of his friends. Shivering in your old knitted sweater, you looked out the window and furrowed your brows: it was too cold and dark to return to the grocery store for a bottle of wine. You’d prefer staying home and having just one shot of vodka, it was more than enough for commemorating someone. Not like James would care, really.

Cutting a few pieces of ham, cheese and some stale bread, you stopped for a second and went to an old wooden cupboard, taking out a few candies in bright-colored wrappings. Deciding it would be enough, you poured vodka into the glass and flinched, taking it closer to your mouth. Ugh, you never really liked strong alcohol, and the smell was kind of disgusting. Alex would laugh at you now, you thought and brought the glass to your mouth again.

I’m sorry it happened to you, James, you said to yourself, and the image of a smiling boy suddenly appeared in your head. You were a good kid. Rest in peace.

Knowing you won’t be able to tolerate the drink in your glass if you kept taking a sip after sip, you downed the shot and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the liquid burning your throat and making you cough. Shit, it was certainly too strong for you, so you quickly took a piece of bread and put some cheese on eat, swallowing it to get the taste of vodka away. Disgusting.

I hope you are in a better place now, James.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly finished your improvised sandwich and took a candy, leaving a wrapping on the table and not even bothering with throwing it in the trash bin. The taste of alcohol was still lingering on your tongue, and it was hard to breathe, making you cough and shut your eyes again. Damn, that was the last time you drank it. From now on nothing but wine!

Thinking water wasn’t enough to keep that irritating taste away, you put a metallic kettle on the stove to make some tea and sat back, watching the snow storm becoming stronger outside. Except the actual snow, everything was pitch black - street lights never worked despite people complaining to the town administration all the time. They only shone bright near the town hall, that’s how thing were in this godforsaken place.

Shit, you had the audacity to think of things like that when you were commemorating James, the boy who died before he even reached adulthood. Who on Earth cared about street lights right now?

Shaking your head, you decided to switch the lights off in the kitchen to have a chance to see the street. Soon you were sitting close to a cracked windowsill and staring at the never ending blackness, finding an odd comfort in it and the sounds of a raging storm. With each passing second it felt like your life wasn’t as bad as you thought.

____________

When you woke up from a loud sound as if someone was hitting the walls with great force, it smelled like something was burning in the kitchen, your throat dry and your head heavy; you felt like you were knocked down and stepped on because your head hurt. What had happened? What was that? That smell?..

The kettle on the stove.

Your body moved on your own when you opened a window, the snow getting in immediately and flying over the kitchen while you struggled to stand, using a chair to get closer to a stove with its surface becoming red, a kettle slowly melting on it. As you switched if off, you turned on the tap and immediately poured water over the kettle, then spraying some water on your face and clothes, realizing you almost caused a fire. Why didn’t the damn alarm work? Oh, this shit was so old you were hardly surprised.

Damn, you were lucky you had an electric, not a gas stove. You’d be dead by now.

As you slowly came back to your senses, you suddenly thought about that odd sound of someone hitting the wall upstairs, eventually waking you up. There was an old man living upstairs, the one who had always been in a cranky mood, but he had never woke you up at night like that. Was it the heat? Did he feel it and woke you up? Was it something else?

Looking at what was left from your beautiful metallic kettle on the stove, you let out a breath nervously and, wearing something like your old autumn jacket - it was hard to tell what you pulled from a hall closet - you quickly left your apartment, running up the stairs. What if the old man was having a stroke?

Feeling a bit dizzy still, you banged his door desperately, not knowing if he was still conscious or not. Was he still alive? Was he alright? If he were, was he going to open the door and yell at you at the top of his voice for almost burning your apartment down? Well, you thought you’d prefer the last option if it meant the man who saved you also stayed alive.

But he wasn’t opening. In fact, you heard no sounds coming from his apartment at all. Shit, he was really having a stroke, and you needed...

“Is everything alright?” Somebody to your left asked, and you jumped, clutching the jacket on your chest. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but you have been banging the door as if your life depends on it.”

It was a tall, beefy man in a black t-shirt with some heavy metal band on it, his dull brown hair quite long for a man living in a town as conservative as yours, eyes strikingly blue. He was living next to the man above you.

“Your neighbor...” You had a hard time pulling yourself together, your throat  parched and scratchy. “He has been hitting the wall... He might be having a stroke.”

The man arched an eyebrow at you, cocking his head to the side. “You sure? He went to see his children a few days ago. I don’t think he came back.”

“No, I’m sure!”

Obviously, the wall banging sounded right above your head, and no one but an old man living above you could do it. Yes, you were close to fainting that moment, but the sound was too clear to just brush it off.

“I need to call an ambulance.”

“Wait, he left me the keys to his apartment in case if the drain bursts again. Give me a second.” The next moments the stranger disappeared inside his own apartment, and for a couple of agonizing seconds you were left all alone on the staircase until the man showed up with a key in his hand, proceeding to open the door.

Getting inside, you started yelling loudly, “Sir! Sir, are you here?”

You ran to the kitchen, almost forgetting about the stranger: the picture of an old man laying on the floor breathless was making your hair stand on end. However, once you got there and put the lights on, you realized there was no one there. The kitchen was completely empty, dust gathering on the top of the counters and in the corners of the room. It looked like no one had been there for at least a couple of days. Were you mistaken? No, it couldn’t be, you heard that sound, it woke you up, for God’s sake!

Immediately proceeding to the other rooms, you saw a blank expression on the face of the stranger wandering the corridor and realized no one was in the apartment at all. How could it be?

“See, he didn’t return yet.” The man said as you turned to him, perplexed and not really understanding what was happening here. “There was no banging, I didn’t hear anything but you, actually.”

“No, it can’t be.” You put a hand on your forehead, deciding whether you had been hallucinating from the heat or the man was simply lying to you. “I... I’m sure I heard something. Could it be the other neighbor?”

“There are no other neighbors. Just the old man and me.”

___________

You tried forgetting about that night, still shivering from the thought you could easily die if you didn’t wake up. The kettle was destroyed along with your stove, and dad sent you some money to get a new one once he heard you crying over the phone. He promised not to tell about this your mom - she would definitely either faint or have a real heart attack.

The old man came back home a few days later just like Bucky, the guy you met that night, told you. He was perfectly alright, still in his snarky mood though. You decided you really heard that knock in your dream, otherwise the only way to explain what had happened was if thieves got inside old man’s apartment, but it was ridiculous. Bucky’s flat was certainly too far for you to hear the sound so clearly, too.

When you told Alex the story, he took the whole other direction, watching you wide-eyed and telling you it was certainly the spirit of James waking you up and saving you from such stupid death. In the end, that time you had been in the middle of commemorating your dead classmate. He certainly didn’t want you to die the same day as him. Maybe he was even grateful to you for remembering him.

Well, whatever. Despite you actually getting nervous because of Alex’s words, you decided it didn’t matter. You were safe. Now you just had to take care and never drink anything alcoholic at all. And never switch off the lights when your stove was on.

The next week you spent trying to forget about this story, working like a horse and taking extra hours just not to return home to your empty apartment. You were going to spend the weekend at your parents’ place for a change, but on Friday the last minute when you already wanted to depart Alex suddenly showed up at your door with a bottle of vodka, pack of ham and some sliced bread in a plastic packet.

“Are you mad?” You raised your eyebrows at him, angry he brought a bottle when you explicitly told him you weren’t drinking anymore. “What is this?”

“That’s not for you.” Your friend brushed it off as if it didn’t matter. “We have to visit Barnes’ grave.”

“Wait, what?”

“We need to visit his grave.” Alex repeated to you angrily, shoving a pack of ham into your arms. “I talked to the priest, and he said we need to go visit boy’s grave. It’s a must!”

You rolled your eyes at him, not even knowing how to react. Clearly, your friend has lost his mind.

Surprisingly, Alex was so pushy you couldn’t get him out of your place until you agreed to go to the graveyard with him and pay your respect to your classmate. Alex was absolutely sure the boy had saved your life, and it was disrespectful towards him to just leave things as they were. You agreed only because your friend had promised to bring you to your parents with his car.

Once you bought a couple of red carnations, the two of you headed to the graveyard, passing a small church and stopping the car right in front of the large iron gates. Nervously looking at them, you wrapped your coat tighter around your body trembling from cold, glancing at Alex in that stupid fur hat of his.

“Come on, it won’t take long.” He said, catching a sight of you. “I know the place. Let’s just go clean the grave, leave flowers and vodka, and then go. It’s the least we can do.”

Huffing and puffing with irritation, you got up from your seat and left his old car, a pack of ham still in your hands along with carnations. It was ridiculous, but, well, cleaning someone’s grave wasn’t a bad thing, really. You wouldn’t be surprised if James’ parents moved to some other place after that terrible incident, and his grave could be deserted after all these years.

Clenching carnations in your hand, you followed Alex into the gloomy graveyard, looking at old rusted crosses and new shining ones, moss-covered gravestones and a couple of monuments made by some rich citizens for their beloved who had passed away. You didn’t like coming to this place - it felt like it had always been cold here even in the hottest day of the year. Now, in the middle of February, it was freezing.

“Just a few more meters!” The man in front of you said, gesturing somewhere to the left where there were much less graves. “It should be here.”

Furrowing your brows, you kept walking, looking at the grey gravestones and looking for a familiar name. Not this one... not that one either... those two weren’t what you needed...

You bumped into Alex all of a sudden as he froze in place, and you snapped at him, “What the hell man? Why are you standing here?”

But he didn’t reply to you, gesturing somewhere to the right side of the path, and you stilled on your spot, too, looking at the destroyed grave with a broken tombstone laying in the snow. A little iron fence around it was torn apart, and it even looked like someone tried digging the grave. As you got a bit closer, you read “James Buchanan Barnes” on the broken stone and clenched Alex’s hand in yours, afraid to make one more step. God, who did that? What monster could destroy a grave, much less the one of a poor boy who died so young?

It looked so horrible there was no reason to attempt cleaning this mess. This place certainly needed a renovation, but you didn’t even know if you were allowed to do it since you weren’t James’ relative. God, why no one tried doing something with it? Did his parents really leave the town?

“That’s not good.” Alex suddenly said, his face getting extremely pale. “Oh shit, this is not good at all.”

“Of course, it isn’t.” You shook your head, still unable to believe your eyes. “What kind of bastard do you have to be to do that? Let’s go ask a supervisor what has happened here.”

When you found the man cleaning the path on the other side of the graveyard, he told the two of you it was a very odd story when somebody destroyed a boy’s grave, going as far as ruining his tombstone and even digging up the coffin. Well, of course, from time to time some vandals would show up to make a mess, but it had never went further than painting a few tombstones. Besides, only James’ grave had been destroyed, all the ones close to him were left in the same state as before. Why? Why targeting a grave of some poor drowned boy? The supervisor thought someone decided that his parents put something very valuable into the grave, provoking a thief to act, but the strangest thing was that the coffin turned out to be completely empty. The corpse had never been found as if it had never been there at all.

Did they bury an empty coffin? If the body had been destroyed or not found at all, there was nothing odd in that, but the supervisor swore the coffin wasn’t empty when he had been helping bury the boy. It had been such a tragedy when it happened, he said, adding he remembered that day well: the town you lived in was small, and the death of a child was a big thing here.

What happened to James’ body? The supervisor didn’t know. By the end of the story he was talking in a hushed voice. On the other hand, Alex was so pale as if he saw a ghost.

You spent time crossing the graveyard in complete silence as you processed the words of an old supervisor. What a cruel thing it was, to stole a corpse of a 14 year old kid who had done nothing wrong in his entire life. You couldn’t comprehend the reasoning behind this act: what, when the thief found nothing in the coffin he decided to take a corpse and throw some punches at it? God, it was disgusting. You really hoped that person was already in prison.

“Listen, I need to go and see the priest.” Alex mumbled to you in the car, and you realized he was trembling a little as if the thing he saw was too much for him. “That’s a very, very bad thing. I'm not sure Barnes’ soul rests in peace.”

“Alex, please.” You rolled your eyes, eating a piece of ham you were intended to leave on the grave. What, did you friend was really going to talk about ghosts after all he saw? He should have been worried about the thief destroying people’s graves. “You’re too superstitious. Of course, he rests in peace! His grave has nothing to do with it, but we really need to contact the administration, make them repair the place and found the bastard who did this. It’s inhuman to leave it like that.”

“No, no, you don’t understand!” The man on the driver’s seat shook his head disapprovingly. “What if James is still here, unable to continue his path? What if his ghost still wanders this place after all these years? Fuck, he certainly isn’t good anymore.”

“Alex-”

“No, can’t you see? That time when you fell asleep with your stove one... What if he didn’t save you but tried to kill you when you commemorated him that night?”

__________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki   @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @iheartsebandchris @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @ninefuckingoneone

[lumosinlove]

Cw: mentions of drugs and mentions of past abuse

Previously On Relic Keel

Remus has started to associate sailing with Sirius Black ever since Sirius told him he watches his boat every morning. He thinks about how tired he is of knowing everything there is to know and wishes to leave the island.

Remus also starts his new job at the Hogwarts History Museum where he meets up with his friend Layla, whose family runs the museum, and whose brother, Lyall, Remus races sailboats against. On his way there, he reflects on the divide between Salazars and Godrics. He remembers Sirius at school, and how he was either celebrated or shunned with seemingly no pattern.

After their first shift at the museum, Layla takes Remus to The Lion for lunch, chastising Remus’ prejudices, and introduces him to Leo. Remus sees Leo’s rainbow bracelet and thinks about how badly he wants a boyfriend. We also learn that Luke is also gay, but that he and Remus have always been just friends.

Logan arrives at The Lion, too, is introduced, and listens in on Remus finding out a new exhibit on madness at the museum—the Lupins are known for going insane, but Remus’ mother mentioned nothing to Remus about this exhibit.

Leo learns that Logan is looking for someone (Finn). Logan reflects on a sleepy feeling that seemed to go away with his escape from the orphanage. Leo offers Logan a job, if he wants, and also tells him about The Voldemort.

The Voldemort is a boat from the eighteenth century that is said to have sank in The Cradle, a U shaped arrangement of islands just off of Hogwarts Southern Coast. Leo’s dad was close to finding it. Leo feels like he should want to find it, too, for his lost father.

Saint and Sirius arrive. Saint and Logan see each other for the first time in almost ten years, since Saint escaped when he was seven. Logan tells him that Finn got him out and Saint finds out that Logan sells Crucio.

Pascal, who owns the Lion with his wife Celeste, is introduced. He’s very close with Saint and Sirius, and he apparently knew Leo’s father before he went missing at sea. Saint learns that Logan is staying with Leo.

James and Remus arrive, looking for Dorcas who Thomas said might be selling Crucio to Luke. They’d like her to stop and are willing to pay. Logan takes advantage of this and, although he doesn’t sell to Luke, cons James out of 200 bucks.

Saint learns that Logan has gotten tangled up with The Carrows, the more dangerous of the two Crucio dealers, the other, safer one being Kasey Winter, in the hopes that they will help him get Finn out. Instead, he’s in their debt for using their Crucio himself.

Logan slips and calls Saint Bash. Saint refuses to help Logan get Finn out.

A/N: I super don’t speak Latin. And neither do my trees.

part v

Dorcas watched as Saint took his book from the floor of the back seat and flipped his sunglasses down.

“How long?” he asked. “And how do I keep getting stuck with this job?”

“Because Sirius is a better surfer than you are,” Dorcas replied. “And you know what, you can take off. Her parents are out of town for the weekend so her dad won’t be coming home or anything.”

Saint paused and raised an eyebrow. “And so I just drove you because…”

“I didn’t feel like walking?”

“Clever gal.”

Dorcas smiled. “I know.”

“Whatever, I need the car anyway.”

“What are you up to? I thought you were working at the Potters.”

“Just Sirius today,” Saint threw his book back into the rear seats. “I’ve got some detective work ahead of me.”

“Does this have anything to do with that little friend of yours that Sirius told me about?”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Of course he told you.”

“You know you two can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Don’t I.”

“See you later, babe,” Dorcas opened her door.

Saint gave her a salut as she headed around towards the dug-out fence.

Marlene had her paints out and her hair up in a bun when she pushed the window up and open for Dorcas.

“Luke’s here,” she said, and rolled her eyes as she turned away.

Dorcas froze in the window frame to see Luke with his feet crossed, laying on Marlene’s bed.

“Okay,” Dorcas said. “Can he leave?”

“Hey,” Luke said. “Cousin privileges.”

“Girlfriend privileges,” Dorcas said, shutting the window behind her. “Plus, can’t you go, like, toss a ball at a net with a stick or something?”

Luke rolled his eyes—not unlike his cousin. “I’m on a rest day. Plus, I’m off the team.”

“And whose fault is that?” Dorcas raised an eyebrow.

“He’s just getting out of the house for a bit,” Marlene said with a pointed look that Dorcas understood as he’s getting away from his mother. 

“Plus,” Marlene continued. “He’s a good cover story.”

“I thought your dad wasn’t here.”

Marlene shook her head. “Came home early. Guess his newest gal pal didn’t like golf. He’s over at the club now.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Luke asked. He had reached over to the bedside table and put a bowl of what looked like mango slices onto his stomach. “With you two, I mean.”

“I am his little princess,” Marlene said dryly. “Not to be dated.”

“And a Salazar girl who lives in The Hollow?” Dorcas shook her head. “No deal.”

“Right,” Luke said. “Like that’s never happened before.”

Dorcas snorted and sat on the bed, too, stealing a few pieces of fruit. “Like you’re any better than the rest of them, Deveaux.”

“I am,” Luke said. “I don’t hate Salazars.”

“But you hate Hollows.”

Luke grinned. “I don’t hate them, either. They hate me, and what am I gonna do about their jealousy? That’s their issue.”

“God, you’re an asshole,” Dorcas sighed.

“He’s really not though,” Marlene stepped back as she regarded the painting she was working on. Luke’s face looked back out at them from the canvas. “He just likes to make-believe.”

“Could have fooled me and my friends.”

“He’s a great actor,” Marlene agreed, then stuck her tongue out at Luke. “I just happen to have known him before he learned how.”

“All right, fuck you both,” Luke grumbled, and ate another piece of mango.

“Believe me,” Dorcas said. “We’re not jealous of you.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “You can’t tell me you wish you didn’t have to sell Felix to make a little more money?”

Dorcas narrowed her eyes. “Like you and your money live such a great life.”

Luke looked away, jaw tight.

“Yeah,” Dorcas said. “I’d take Crucio and the friends I have over that any day.” After a moment of hesitation, she looked down and mumbled. “And by the looks of your little habit, so would you.”

“Fuck you, Meadowes,” Luke snarled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All right, all right,” Marlene said, tilting her head as she added color to Luke’s cheeks in her painting. “Cool it, kids. Take a chill pill. Knock it down a notch. Luke, why don’t you go get us some pizza or something? Or maybe pick up from Thomas’. I crave his nachos, holy cow. Also, tell him to come hang out later tonight, if he can.”

Luke held Dorcas’ eyes for a moment, then pushed himself up from the bed. “Pepperoni, you?”

“Pineapple and ham, thanks,” Marlene said, and smiled at Dorcas as she patted his back out the door.

“Hi,” Marlene laughed once the door closed behind him. She walked into Dorcas’ arms. She took Dorcas’ face between her hands and peppered kisses to her mouth. “How are you?”

“Worried about basically all of our friends,” Dorcas laughed. “And that one, I guess, too.”

“Tell me about it,” Marlene sighed, laying down on the bed and eating a slice of mango. Dorcas mirrored her position. “No, seriously, if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. I mean, I’ve got Luke who, one, needs to get out of his house, and two, needs someone to love, like, God, I wish he had a boyfriend. I just want him to get off this island, go to college, and meet the sweetest human in the world, you know?” Marlene sighed again, eyes far away. “He doesn’t act like he deserves that, but…it’s really his family he didn’t deserve. He’s all torn up about his dad, but his dad’s…a schemer. You know? And his mom, don’t even get me started.”

“Maybe he can still meet someone here,” Dorcas replied, and reached out to brush Marlene’s hair away from her face with a smile. “You never know. We didn’t. How long did we spend on this island without knowing each other existed?”

Marlene’s smile faltered in a way that Dorcas was beginning to recognize. It worried her.

“What?” Dorcas asked softly.

Marlene tilted her head. “Hm?”

“You keep doing that,” Dorcas said, tracing a thumb over one corner of Marlene’s mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Marlene said. “I was just thinking about Luke. I mean, my parents sucks but at least they’re…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “Not in jail?”

“Yeah, I don’t know where I was going with that,” Marlene laughed. She scooted closer, letting Dorcas hitch her thigh over her hip, Dorcas’ thumb rubbing idly over her soft skin. “Now what are you worrying about, lover?”

“Sirius,” Dorcas began. “I don’t know he just…he’s never seemed…happy? Saint. He’s trying so hard to be happy that I know he’s not. And now there’s Logan which I think stirred up a lot of Saint Clair stuff for him. I mean, Jesus, how do we not know what’s up with that place?”

“Gods are good at not paying attention,” Marlene said solemnly.

“Saint never takes that damn cross off,” Dorcas said. “I mean, wouldn’t you want to let it go?”

“Sorry, who’s Logan? He got out? As in escaped? Like Saint did?”

Dorcas nodded. “I haven’t talked to Saint about it yet. Me and Sirius are gonna tag-team later, make him let it out.”

Marlene looked suspicious. “Good luck.”

“We have our ways,” Dorcas laughed. “And Logan…He deals. I know him a little. Not really.”

Marlene nodded, going quiet at the mention of Crucio as she always did.

“I like what it gives me,” Dorcas said gently. “Freedom, Marls. More than any other job here could. At least any job that I could get. And its from Kasey, who makes it safely. Unlike the Carrows. So—”

“You don’t have to explain,” Marlene said, and pushed herself closer. “I know. Really, I know. I’m proud of you. I just wish there wasn’t as much risk.”

“Like the police do anything about it,” Dorcas sighed, running a hand through Marlene’s hair. “They probably like the revenue it brings for the island.”

“Yeah,” Marlene sighed.

“Well,” Dorcas said. “We probably have at least twenty minutes before Deveaux returns with the pizza…”

Marlene smiled and pushed Dorcas’ hat off, leaning over her on the bed. “Oh? Twenty minutes you say?”

~

Saint parked the Jeep between two trees in an overgrow section of a Salazar road.  He knew where The Carrows lived. It was difficult to miss their house. Saint could practically smell the gold and diamonds. He felt like he smell the Crucio, too, the rubber bands and the plastic bags, and the sickly sweet powder.

There was no one outside. The whole grandiosity looked strangely deserted.

Saint reached into the rear again for the latest book he had borrowed from James. Frankenstein. Not one he hadn’t read before, but a good one none the less.

“Don’t know why you want that one,” James had said when he handed it over. They had both been hot from working in the sun—Saint on the lawn, James on his backhand. “I had to write a book report on that in, like, what, ninth grade? Oof.”

“Beluis amicitiam,” Saint had replied.

“How the fuck do you know Latin?” James had said. “You aren’t even at our school.”

“You gave me a book on Latin.”

James nodded. “Right.”

“Well?” Saint had asked. “You’re at school. What’d I say?”

James squinted one eye shut. “Beast…friends?”

Saint had laughed. “Literally, sure.”

Saint opened the book now, rolling the window down in the stuffy car. The AC was broken.

“Monsters like company,” he said aloud into the small space and settled down to wait.

~

Lily didn’t expect to find herself painting an old boat with James Potter on a Saturday afternoon, but painting she was. She dipped the fat brush into the blue paint, trying to wipe her hair out of her face without getting blue in it.

“Still doing okay over there, Lils?”

Lily looked up to see James’ head pop out over the upside-down bow.

“All good,” Lily nodded. “You?”

James smiled. “Yeah. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lily said. “Just working on my tan.”

James’ head appeared again, only this time his expression was incredulous. “We both know we both burn.”

Lily laughed. “I guess so.”

The Potter’s had their own, small beach in front of their property, and Lily dug her feet down into the sand, looking at the inviting ocean.

She felt all too awkward after their talk a few nights ago. She had been brash, and almost cruel at some points. James was—good. But she didn’t want to end up like her mother. She didn’t want to stay for someone, like her mother had for her father, and regret it, like she could tell her mother did sometimes.

And if she had wanted someone to come out into the world with her, she couldn’t have picked a worse candidate. James was a Potter, and the Potters were Hogwarts Island’s beating heart. Their money was in every part of this island. Every grain of sand, every brick. Hogwarts Academy, whose headmaster was James’ father.

If Lily loved James, she’d never escape.

And the problem was, she did love James.

“So, I was thinking about doing a movie night or something,” James said from the other side of the boat. “Put a sheet up and a projector. We could lay it all out on the lawn, or by the pool. Get some candy and popcorn and shit, invite everyone.”

Lily cleared her throat. “Yeah, that sounds cool.”

James was at the front now, painting the boat’s nose. “Any suggestions or requests?”

Lily smiled. “Is it too cheesy to do Pirates of The Caribbean?”

James laughed. “Hell no. There’s no better place!”

Lily shrugged. “Then definitely that. Oh, Will Turner.”

James snorted. “Yeah, can’t say no to that.”

Lily smiled at him, and shifted closer to the other side of the bow.

“So, how’s your common-app going?” James asked. “These essays are sort of killing me. I mean, you’re staring out a window. What do you see? What the fuck kind of prompt is that? That’s what’s going to get me into college?”

Lily laughed. “Not to mention asking me why I want to go somewhere. They’re basically forcing me to make something dramatic up.”

“Right. If I’m being, you know, honest, I feel simple, and if I’m embellishing, I feel fake.”

Lily looked up at him. “Exactly. No, that’s—exactly.”

They smiled at each other, paintbrushes poised.

“I don’t know,” James sighed finally. “I’m—I’m sort of worried, Lils.”

“What about Lacrosse?” Lily asked.

James nodded. “That’s what my dad says. And, yeah, I love it, but…sometimes I wonder if it’s more that I love who I’m playing with. Luke, Remus, Thomas.”

Lily nodded, eyes flitting over his face which had gone serious and tense. “Right. No, that makes sense. But J, you’re so smart. And kind.”

James’ smile was small, but his eyes, when he looked at her, were fond. “Not as smart as you. And I can’t get a degree in kindness.”

Lily hummed, thinking. College was a sensitive topic for everyone it seemed. What was supposed to be one of the best parts of their lives was all uncertainty and vagueness. She thought of Marlene, and how she hadn’t told Dorcas about her early-decision acceptance yet. This seemed to be all goodbyes and leave-behinds.

“Sorry,” James cleared his throat. “That was a downer thing to say.”

Lily shook her head. “I’m starting to think college is just a downer thing.”

James smiled, and, even though it was something that had only been gone for a moment, Lily found that she had missed it. James was so bright. “Yeah.”

Lily knew that she was going to say goodbye to James in a year. But for the first time, she wondered how she knew, and when she had decided.

“You’re going to be amazing, Lils,” James said softly. She could tell that they were both thinking of their conversation. He looked down at her with his hazel eyes. “Really, you are.”

Lily meant to say thank you.

Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him. James’ body tensed, and then relaxed. His mouth opened beneath hers and she cupped his cheek, her other palm splayed on his chest. He was warm from the sunlight. He made a soft sound and tilted his head to kiss her again, hand between her shoulders. Then, he pulled back, their foreheads together. There was paint on his chest from Lily’s paintbrush. Blue, right over his heart.

“Lils,” James gasped. He wrapped a gentle hand around her wrist. “Lils, mixed messages, mixed messages…”

He was out of breath. Lily had made him that way. Her own heart was beating out of her chest.

“You’re right,” Lily breathed, and stepped away, drawing a fallen strap of her tank top up her shoulder. “You’re right, God, sorry.”

“No, it’s,” James began. “I mean, that was nice. Really nice.”

Lily sent him a wavering smile over her shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry about—” the paint. Everything.

She watched James out of the corner of her eye as he passed his hand through his hair a few times. This time, he came to stand beside her as they worked quietly.

It only took Lily a few moments to not be able to stand it any more. The feeling of him so close, of wanting him the way she did. He was gentle. He kissed in a way that made her want to melt. He had made her laugh, that night that they spent together, in between those kisses and gentle touches.

“Why did you ask me to do this with you, James?” Lily said. “I mean—aren’t you mad at me?”

James didn’t respond for a moment, but finally turned.

“What, we can’t be friends?” he asked.

“I wasn’t very nice to you the other night,” Lily said, and then groaned. “And—I mean, I feel awful about it but…you understand, don’t you?"

“I’m not here to tie you down, Lily,” James said, eyes firm behind his glasses. “If that’s what you think friends do…I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You’re not my friend,” Lily burst out, and then covered her eyes. “I mean—you are. But you’re…”

“It’s fine, Lils,” James said. When Lily looked up, he was shaking his head and stooping to dip his brush again. “Really, let’s just…let’s paint and tan. I’ll get us some sunscreen.”

“James—”

“You kissed me and then you said we weren’t friends. Forgive me if I’d rather stay where we are than go farther or backwards into those two territories that you seem to not want.”

Lily blinked.

James glanced at her, then away. “I should probably be asking you to leave. But I don’t want to lose you. Not yet. Not now, not if you really think that’s so inevitable.”

Lily stared at him. He was looking resolutely at his work, jaw tight. He looked beautiful, even when he was sad and overwhelmed. Lily was so angry at herself.

She didn’t want to lose him, either.

She timed her paint strokes to his, and they worked beside each other quietly.

~

Saint didn’t find what he expected to find.

Instead of Logan coming up the path, Luke Deveaux passed right by his car and open window.

Luke looked down in passing, probably expecting to see an empty vehicle, and then did a double take when, instead, he found Saint sitting there, Frankenstein in one hand, balanced on the steering wheel, and the other elbow resting out the window.

“Hello, tweedle,” Saint said.

Luke stopped walking. He had a gray t-shirt on with a large, navy Nike swoop on it, and black running shorts. Earbuds dangled around his neck, tangled in the two fine gold chains that hung there and trailing all the way into his pocket, where Saint could see the weight of his phone. He was sweaty, as though he had run here from Godric.

“What?” Luke said.

“Bad move,” Saint replied. “Taking your hit from The Shining twins.”

Luke just stared at him. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Saint smiled. He liked Deveaux when he was caught off guard. This had never happened before.

“Well—” Luke began. “You’re here, too.”

“Not like that.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You said you didn’t deal.”

“I don’t.”

“So,” Luke’s eyes flit around the Jeep’s exterior. “You just sit in junk cars and read—” Luke looked forward. “Shelley?”

Saint frowned in approval and squinted back towards the house. “You say that almost as if you’ve read it.”

“I have.”

“What, in your ninth grade book report?”

“No, with my—” Luke turned his head away, mouth clamping shut.

“I see,” Saint said after a moment. “A bit of a strange parental bonding choice, but all right.”

“Fuck off,” Luke said. “And what the fuck did you call me?”

That was when Saint spotted Logan. He sat up and unlocked the Jeep doors with a click.

“Get in,” Saint said.

Luke scoffed. “Fuck off.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that in five seconds. Get in, tweedle, or I’ll tell your mother about your candy addiction.”

To Saint’s slight surprise—he was used to people being drawn to him—that seemed to work and Luke complied, but he walked slowly, distrustfully, around the bonnet before sliding into the passenger seat.

Logan was coming up a different path, one stemming from the back of the house to what looked like a side door.

“She wouldn’t care,” Luke said as he slammed the door.

“You in my passenger seat says differently,” Saint said, and glanced at Luke’s wrist. “Nice watch.”

It was gold and glittery. It looked like it had probably been his father’s, and by no means looked like it should be worn on a run.

“Your car smells like wet dog.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Saint replied, eyes on Logan. He had knocked and was waiting now.

“I was talking about Black.”

Saint glanced at him. “You’re funny, Galileo.”

Luke just shook his head, bringing his t-shirt up to wipe his forehead. “Stop calling me tweedle—you think I’m dumb?”

Saint laughed. “No.”

“All right,” Luke put a hand on the door. “I’m getting out.”

“No,” Saint said, and grabbed Luke’s arm, fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Stay here or you’ll blow this for both of us.”

Luke shook him off and Saint pushed his door open. He began his stride up towards the house without looking back. He wondered if Luke was a snoop. The thought made him smile.

Logan saw him when he was half-way to the door, and rolled his eyes, shoving his hands out in an effort to silently say go back.

“Hello, number ten,” Saint said, leaning beside the door. “Now, who are you waiting for?”

“Saint, don’t.”

“Look, I’m hoping it was me, and if so, your ride’s here.” Saint narrowed his eyes. “Let’s go.”

“What do you care if I’m here?”

Saint looked at Logan’s backpack, the one that was always filled with Crucio. Even at the sight of it he imagined that he could feel the sweet, sleepiness that occupied his nights at the orphanage.

The door opened.

“Oh, look,” Amycus said, resting a hand on the door. “Haven’t seen you in a while. What is it you’re calling yourself these days? Saint.”

“Hello, Amy,” Saint smiled. “Nice to see you, we’re going now.”

“You can’t,” Amycus snarled. “He owes us.”

“I’m sure you haven’t lost that much,” Saint said back evenly.

“Oh yeah?” Amycus laughed. “Why don’t we take a look at green-eyes here’s subconscious. You want something bad enough, you like something enough, something feels good enough, then there comes a point where you don’t even know how far you’ve gone to get it. How much Felix have you taken, do you think, Tremblay?”

Logan just looked down.

“See?” Amycus cocked his head. “He doesn’t know. Which means I make make up whatever number I like.”

Saint nodded, thoughtful. “Interesting. What number is that?”

Amycus just grinned. “Your friend here will know when I tell him.”

“Bullshit,” Logan snapped, and Saint held up a hand.

“We’re going now, and you know what?” Saint leaned in. “You don’t know shit about what he wants.”

“Come back without your handler, Tremblay,” Amycus called after them.

Back at the car, Saint could see Luke reading Frankenstein through the windshield.

“Who’s that?”

“Who you got your two hundred bucks for,” Saint murmured.

“What about the two hundred more you just cost me?”

“You’re welcome,” Saint said, and motioned to Luke to get out.

“And what exactly was I supposed to get out of this?” Luke said, crossing his arms.

“A chit-chat with yours truly,” Saint replied. “Logan, get in the car.”

Logan glared, but took Luke’s place in the passenger seat.

Saint slid back into the driver’s side, took Logan’s backpack from him, and slung it into the back seat.

“Oh,” Saint leaned out his window. “And I’m sure you can go right up now.”

“I’m sure I can,” Luke tossed Saint the book. “Don’t forget Potter’s book. Did you steal it, or what?”

If only he knew, Saint thought. 

“Bye, Luke,” Saint called as he turned out of the grove and down the street. He looked in his review mirror and smiled at the sight of Luke standing, framed in it. Then, he put his arm lazily on the steering wheel and let Luke’s golden watch flash in the sunlight on his wrist.

“You didn’t have to fucking—fetch me,” Logan grumbled.

“Yes, I fucking did.”

Logan turned towards him in his seat, and for a moment Saint thought he was going for his backpack, but Logan just looked at him.

“Look,” Logan said.

“I’m driving.”

Logan ignored him.

“There’s a treasure,” Logan said instead. “Leo told me about it. He thinks his dad knows where it is—The Cradle? Look, I—If we can get it—”

“Oh, good,” Saint sighed. “He sells Crucio and he’s a Voldemort tourist.”

Logan blinked. “You know about it?”

Saint scoffed. “Of course I know about it. Everyone knows about it, Logan.”

“Fine, but—if we can get it, then I can pay off—”

“I’m sorry, excuse me, excuse me,” Saint held up a hand, one on the wheel. The houses went from the tall mansions of Salazar to the workshop rows of Helga, to the low houses of The Hollow. “Did you or did you not just place all of your hopes of freedom on a long lost, legendary treasure.”

“Bash—Saint.”

“Answer the question.”

“It’s not my hope, it’s just an option.”

Saint just shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Come on,” Logan urged as Saint stopped the car in front of The Lion. “Isn’t there something you want? Something that much gold could get you?”

“Come to think of it, there isn’t that much I want, no.”

Logan paused, and then said, “Then, is there something you hate?”

When Saint didn’t reply for enough time, Logan took his backpack and got out of the car.

~

Sirius had dreamed about his little brother last night. Only, he had been on Wolfsbane, and Regulus had been on shore. There had been someone else in the boat, too, someone expertly pulling the ropes and taking Sirius farther out to sea. The wind had been warm.

Sirius had woken up thinking about Remus Lupin.

His entire day was thrown off.

Sirius looked over at Saint. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Saint had his head in Dorcas’ lap and his eyes closed. “Pardon?”

Dorcas and Sirius glanced at each other. “Logan.”

“We were at Saint Clair together. What else is there to say?”

“Maybe how he got out.”

“And why,” Dorcas added, running a hand through Saint’s hair. “It might help if you talked about that place more.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Sirius groaned. “Saint. Come on, that kid looked freaked talking to you and then he bolted. What’s up?”

Saint sighed, his face opening up into a rare moment of softer eyes, and he sat up, nearly facing away from the both of them.

Sirius listened to the crickets outside. Before, he had just wanted to know about the orphanage. Now, he wanted Saint to not have to keep it all inside.

“When I arrived when I was five, Logan and Finn were already there,” Saint said finally. “And its not like its this horrible place. We have beds and food and we go to school together. We have friends. But we’re also locked away. The nuns are strict. The punishments are old-fashioned. A slap. A few days in solitude. The problem is…”

Sirius got up from his perch on the window and sat beside Saint on the ratty old couch they had dragged in. Saint didn’t look at him, but let him and Dorcas lay gentle hands on him, Dorcas’ on his back, Sirius’ one of his crossed ankles.

“I watched kids turn eighteen,” Saint said, voice steely. “And they’d be packing their bags and then—unpacking them.”

“They,” Dorcas began. “You mean they decided to stay?”

Saint just shook his head slowly. “I still haven't completely figured it out. I think—maybe Crucio has something to do with it. It’s the only thing I can think of that would make them stay. I keep having this—this memory of being so tired at night. And these dreams.”

“The plant Crucio is made out of has Melatonin in it,” Dorcas said, brow creased. “It influences the dreaming. The hallucinations.”

“So, what?” Sirius asked. “They stay for Crucio, you think?”

“They work some,” Saint said. “Around the island. But, yeah. They stay.”

“You think they’re bringing money back?” Dorcas asked gently. “To the orphanage?”

Saint shrugged. “I told you. I haven’t completely figured it out. But I’d rather figure it out from the outside. Even when I was seven, I knew something was wrong. But I was older when I arrived. Finn and Logan had been there since they were too young to recognize something like that. They didn’t know anything else.”

“And…you do?” Sirius asked faintly. Saint had never brought up remembering anything about his prior life, his family.

Saint laughed faintly and got up. “Who knows. That’s the thing about memories, right? We tend to make them worse, or make them better.” Sirius watched him go to the sink and turn it on and off. He opened the refrigerator and then closed it. Finally, he stilled.

“But I hate them,” Saint said, almost to himself. “I hate them for making anything feel real.”

Sirius opened his mouth to respond when Dorcas’ phone lit up with a loud ping.

She picked it up. “From Marlene. Apparently we’re invited to a movie night at Potter’s house.”

“Of course we are,” Sirius sighed, and got up and wrapped his arms around Saint from behind. “What do you feel like?”

Saint looked at him over his shoulder. “Well, how could I ever pass that up?”

~

When Logan didn’t find Leo at The Lion, he went to the Knut’s workshop instead. He’d been in there a handful of times now. It was a crowded room, walls-to-ceiling tools and cupboards that organized different found objects. Sea-glass and shards of blue china. There was large glass jars of things like compasses or pieces of weather vanes hanging by woven rope plant holders from the ceiling. There was a forge that was cool now, and there was a long work bench.

He found Leo on the work bench with the garage door open to the street, shirtless and welding something together.

“Oh,” Logan said instead of announcing himself.

Leo looked up, then back down, sparks flying around him. “Hey, what’s up?”

Logan walked a few steps inside and set his backpack—which was still empty—down.

“I want to help you,” he said.

The sparks stopped and Leo pushed his welding mask up. He was sweaty, his cheeks flushed from the heat. “What? With this?”

Logan rolled his eyes and walked in to straddle the other end of the work bench. “The treasure. We need to find the treasure. Think how rich we’d be.”

Leo stared at him for a long moment, then took his mask off and set his equipment down. For a moment, his face looked thunderous. Logan thought he was about to tell him to get out, but the storm dissipated.

“This isn’t a joke to me,” Leo said evenly after another pause. “And it’s not some greedy game, either. That’s not why my dad looked for things like this. He loved history.”

Logan blinked. “You—you don’t want the money?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. What do you think the finder gets?”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying don’t make me regret telling you. I’m saying my dad was never one to just pawn things off. He wanted things like that on display, for people to learn from.”

“How very, very noble and grand,” came another voice, and they both looked up to see Saint standing there. He had changed since the last time Logan had seen him. He was wearing a t-shirt that said New Orleans Saints.

“Saint?” Leo said.

“Hi there,” Saint gave a little salute. “I have a movie night to go to, apparently, a nice little godly sleepover, but I thought I’d stop by.”

“What are you doing…” Logan began warily.

“Well, come to think of it, there is something I hate.”

Leo tilted his head. “What is he talking about?”

“Not to mention,” Saint continued, and touched the bottom of the hanging compasses. He studied one, then looked at them and grinned.

“I do like gold,” Saint said.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar Of 24 Normal Human Task As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 8: It Is The Most Important Meal Of The Day 

Warnings: Bad Language Words 

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

A/N: HELLO! Welcome back for another day of Ransom Drysdale mishaps! Is he hopeless? Well between myself, @what-is-your-plan-today​ and @jennmurawski13​ he seems to be, but I think some day he will get the hang of it. Maybe. Happy Reading! 

Series Masterlist

“Why don't we just go out to the Beehive for breakfast?” Ransom questioned with a hand on his hips while you searched the refrigerator to pull out eggs, veggies and ham. You close the door with your hip and walk around your husband with a tired sigh, setting it all out on the counter. 

“Because I can just cook for us Ransom. We’ve been out every day this week, and to the Beehive Diner twice for breakfast, I just want to stay home.” You open the cupboards and search for a bowl to whisk your eggs in, and glance at Ransom who seems stuck between agreeing and making an argument that it would be easier to just go. “Besides, I'm making it, you don't have to cook Ransom. If you want to go so bad, go. But I’m staying home.” 

His mouth snapped shut and a dark eyebrow arched at you while listening. You sounded tired and even though he thought it was easier to let someone else cook and bring the food to you, you seemed set on just staying home. In your oversized tee shirt that was starting to stretch a bit more over your belly and leggings. “Well I can cook if you want me to.” Ransom finally spoke up, in which You pause, and turn to face him, your hand resting on your belly. “I mean, you do it most of the time, and you are not feeling like going out. Let me.” He stepped forward, catching you by surprise, and wrapped his arms around your waist. “It's about time I learn right? When we have this kid running around, we will be staying home more.” 

His logic was sound, and you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and looked up at him, really touched at the effort he was making with all of this. Your fingers tangled at the trimmed hair along the back of his head, and nodded. “Are you sure you know what to do with all this Ransom?”

He rolled his eyes at you with an exaggerated huff escaping, even though you looked doubtful. “Y/N how many times do I have to tell you I’m not a complete invalid. I had a nanny who I watched cook omelets all the time. Whisk some eggs, add that extra crap, fold it over. Done.” 

They were eggs, if he can't cook eggs then Ransom really would be hopeless you thought to yourself. “Okay, I am going to go take a shower then since you are offering.” You tilted to your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “If you need anything, get me. I swear Ransom, let's not do another roast pork in the crockpot incident.” 

“Are you ever going to let that go Princess?” he huffed against your lips, and you fell back to the flat of your feet. 

“Maybe next year, you did almost poison your parents after all Ransom.” Your hand slid against his chest as you pulled away with a grin. 

Ransom smirked hearing you, wiggling eyebrows as you headed for the stairs. “Maybe that was actually what I was trying to do Princess.” You shook your head at him and went up slowly. Once you left, Ransom almost considered just calling for a delivery from the diner down the road. They made those omelets you so loved, which is what you seemed to be making by looking at the mix of ingredients on the counter. But you really seemed set against eating out, and that would include takeout. 

“Fuck its just eggs, damn it. Your better then letting a couple fucking eggs beat you.” He approached the bowl and started to crack eggs into the bowl. Unsure of how many to do, because he had never actually cooked an omelet before, he just did the whole carton. Grabbing a small knife he had seen you use before, he started to dice the veggies, shred some of the ham and set it all aside. “Well it isn’t no Gordon Ramsey, but not’ bad.” He said out loud to himself while inspecting his handy work of wildly sized vegetables. 

Now was time for the real challenge. The actual cooking of these eggs. 

It took him a few minutes to get a pan that looked like it was made to cook on the stove, which he cranked on the heat and set the skillet down. While it was heating, he waited thinking that the skillet had to be sizzling before putting the eggs in. Once he saw a small curl of smoke roll out of the pan, he took the massive bowl of eggs he had diligently cracked, and tipped them into the pan. 

The sizzle was immediate, egg whites started popping out of the pan from where he didn’t whisk them together enough, the smoke billowed up to fill the room and soon the eggs were boiling over the too small skillet to dry on the electric stove top, and catch on fire. 

This all happened in moments. Faster than Ransom was expecting, he watched with a colorful string of curses escaping him as the orange flames crackled amid the black smoke. 

“Oh you motherfucker!” He turned off the stove and searched for anything to grab the pan with. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, son of a bitch.” Ransom is ripping open drawers, and pawing through the cupboard at the bottom of the sink till he finds a hand towel, which he wraps around his hand. Grabbing the handle of the skillet, he shoots for the sink and dumps it all in, turning on the water. Somewhere a fire alarm is blaring and he can hear your footsteps thumping above him to go down the stairs, which he darts out of the kitchen, coughing while using the hand towel to shoo away the burnt smoke clinging to him. “Stop right there Y/N!” 

You pause mid step, clutching a towel around yourself, soap still streaked along your shoulders and neck. “Ransom are you okay? Do I need to call the fire department?” 

Coughing he waved his hand to have you go back upstairs. “No, it's fine, I got it. You go back to your shower.” 

“I think I should really help you…” You started down the stairs, but Ransom went up a few steps to block you and turn you around. 

“No, go back upstairs. Your dripping soap all over the rug.” 

You try to peek over the railing into the kitchen, but he turns you around and has you start back up the stairs. “Ransom the kitchen is filled with smoke.” You try to stall but he gives you another nudge. 

“It's nothing, I got this. Go finish.” 

After you finally relented, sputtering all the way back up “I shouldn’t have let him in my kitchen, fuck I hope we can get someone in here to fix it. Maybe Linda knows someone” 

Ransom scoffed with a “I heard that, we wouldn't use my mother… BUT THE KITCHEN IS FINE” He raised his voice while you slammed the bathroom door shut. Ransom waited a few seconds to be sure you wouldn’t try coming back down just yet. Then went back down into the kitchen, prying open some windows and went to look at the mess in the sink. 

“Fucking hell, I should have just ordered in. Why the fuck didn’t I just order it in?” He heard the shower start back up, and went to the pantry instead, avoiding the stove now. Pushing stuff around while in the pantry, muttering to himself, determined not to make that phone call. 

You came back down about fifteen minutes later, cautious as you stepped into the kitchen. The smell of burnt eggs clung to the air, and you started to breath subtly through your mouth, so your stomach did not turn. Ransom sat at the table and you moved over to him, slipping into his lap to see what he had set the table with. Spread out was some of your cups of yogurt, a cut up banana and bundle of grapes, along with your granola cereal. 

Ransom's arm circled around your waist, and you reached for a grape, turning enough to offer it to him. “It looks really good Handsome.” You pressed the grape to his lips, and he let it slide in, chewing slowly. 

“I can still order in. Twenty minutes for a hot breakfast.” He started and you shook your head, leaning forward to grab one of the yogurt cups to peel off the top as well as the granola to sprinkle in. 

“Ransom, this is exactly what your spawn wants right now. Fresh fruit and yogurt. The thought of eggs is a no right now. Might be for a while…” 

Ransoms head tilted back while he groaned, knowing it was because he had burned the fucking eggs. Seeing him, you laughed while mixing it up and offered him a bite. 

“I am not hungry anymore.” He glared at the spoon of yogurt and you shrugged, taking it for yourself. “I think that stove is broken.” 

“I think you just need some actual lessons. Which we're going to do tonight.” 

That earned you another groan from Ransom while he pressed his lips to your shoulder. “Fuck it, you should have just let me order in.” he groaned against your skin while you took another bite of yogurt and granola.

[knullanon]

l.d fic #2

heres the second part! this one is long too lmao

words: 3227 (bonus at the end too!)

warnings: shotgun, kidnapping

Driving past the beautiful buildings and apartments, you rested your elbow on the car handle where you almost laid your head against the window had it not been for Mercy. “_____, you can’t sleep here.”

You mumbled out something strange before you rested your head on the head of your seat. You really wanted to sleep, as you couldn’t feel your feet when you got into the car, but you knew that your bed would be a lot more comfortable in the long run.

You turned to look at Lex, and he was on the phone with someone. You didn’t even notice him, probably because he was whispering in an exasperated voice. You didn’t try to tune in, as he would probably notice either way, so instead you kept on looking out the window. You saw shops, restaurants, even other gala places like the one you were just at. You even saw the Lexcorp tower.

One thing you remember from your past life was that someone… Was it your mother or father? It was both, right? Anyway, either one would always take you on a night drive every month, usually on a Tuesday for some strange reason. You would usually listen to music on these drives, and the lights in the towns and cities were always so pretty. Even now, it was pretty to you, since there weren’t many people this late at night and the shops were still running. You looked up to one building noticing the bright lights that accompanied the sign. But your attention turned to the top of the building.

There seemed to be two people, one who was extremely tall, with two… sticks in his hands. And the other had a cape and a hoodie, who was shorter than the other man. This one also had a katana. You tried to get a better look, but the car started to move again, and you again tried to look back. But Mercy noticed.

“____, what are you looking at?” She asked, looking where you were watching. You looked back, but there was nothing there. “... I guess there was nothing there.” You whispered to yourself. “What?” Mercy asked. “Nothing. I thought I saw a person on the roof.”

Mercy didn’t say anything and she went back to looking around to make sure that the driver was going the way they were supposed to.

~~~~~

“Dick, what the hell?!” Damian whispered to his older brother. Currently, they were hiding behind a wall on the building you were looking at. Dick sighed before he said, “Well, you were there too, so don’t just put the blame on me!”

“I’m not tall and I don’t wear bright colors!”

“Oh really-” Dick then noticed that Damian was not in his normal yellow and red suit, but instead he was in a more stealthy color.

“The only thing I have is a bluebird on my chest!”

“A big blue bird-”

“Can you guys just… try to follow the car?”

Tim was at his breaking point: he was really at his breaking point. Damian was heard arguing with Dick for a few more seconds before Tim just decided to follow the car himself. Which somehow worked.

“Does anyone have a tracker on that thing?” Duke asked, also following the car. He wasn’t as tired as Tim, but he understood where he was coming from. “Yeah, I’ll send the location to you in just a sec.”

~~~~~

Driving up to the big gates, you felt really tired when you felt the car stop, but at least there weren't any paparazzi you had to run over. You got out of the car and started to walk with Mercy to the elevator, when you thought you heard something from the other side of the empty parking garage. You turned your head, only to see empty space and columns. You tried to look around more, but Mercy had started to lead you towards the elevator already.

Getting into the elevator, you stood with Mercy to listen to the almost silent beeps of the elevator getting higher into the building.

“Ah, I almost forgot, I’ll bring you your dinner to eat in the room. I understand your exhaustion.”

“Oh, what did the cook make?”

“Honey glazed ham with mashed potatoes and gravy.”

You remembered that from before you got here. Your mother would make that every day if you asked her to. You also started to notice how… nice mercy was being towards you. You remember when you first met her, she did not like you at all. In fact the only thing she would say is… well, nothing really. However, that was months ago. Now, she greets you and gives you small talk. She even gives you little presents if you’re good.

When the elevator chimed to your floor, and the doors opened, you were expecting more guards then you saw. Usually there were more than 5 there, but there was no one in the hallway. Even Mercy looked a little shocked. However, she just took your hand and led you through the halls back to your room, where she then opened your door and pointed to the drawers. “You should probably change into something more comfortable. You aren’t going anywhere for another couple weeks at least, so that's a good thing.”

You nodded and walked over to the dresser to change. You picked out a pair of pajamas that were extremely soft before you walked to the bathroom.

~~~~

Getting out of the bathroom you heard strange music coming from below you. It wasn’t ugly, or loud, just… rumblings of sad music. It sounded nice. You walked over to your overly plush bed and you crawled in, ignoring the strange feeling that was pooling in your mind. Something telling you to be alert, but you were too tired to care. Tossing and turning wasn’t helping you either. Finally you decided that it was getting unbearable. It was then you noticed that you never got a knock on the door from Mercy for your food. Groaning, you climbed out of bed only to notice how cold it felt. You slipped on some slippers that were also extremely soft and warm, before you walked to the door and tried to pull on the handle. It was locked. Of course it was. It's never open in the first place. You sighed and wondered where everyone went. You still felt the rumbling beneath you from the music, so you knew someone was down there, but you just didn’t know who.

Instead of freezing to death, however, you bundled yourself in many different blankets, most soft, fuzzy and warm. Waddling over to the bed you stumbled into your mattress and groaned. You wanted to just fall asleep, but something was keeping you awake. It was a nagging feeling like you just weren’t alone. You crawled your way so that you were leaning against your wall and you also had a view of the room to make sure that there wasn't anyone in there with you.

You were about to crawl back down but then, there was a noise at the door. It was unlocking, you thought, it was probably Mercy finally bringing you your food. However, when the door opened, it was not Mercy. In fact, it was a… boy. Probably a new servant, but still a boy.

He looked to be about your age, and he was wearing the usual uniform that the servants would wear. He was also carrying a tray.

Looking at you bundled up in almost all of your blankets, he gave you a small bow, as to not drop the food. You looked at him up and down, before you asked, “Who are you?”

He stood there, before he coughed a little, and said, “I’m the, uh, new butler assigned to bring you food.”

You gave him a look. “I thought Mercy was supposed to bring the food? Where is she?”

The boy looked a little surprised. “She’s, um, a little busy. With Luthor.”

You gave a nod before he brought the food to you. You unwrapped yourself from the blankets and leaned over to him a bit. He had a tray underneath his arm, and he brought it out so he could lay the food on your bed. He then placed both the tray to carry your food and your food itself onto your bed. Opening the cover, it revealed, just as Mercy had said, honey glazed ham and mashed potatoes and gravy. He gave you two cans of Arizona tea- Arizona tea?

You checked the labels again, surprised that Lex would even give this to you. Usually he gave you a better drink, and something “better”. You did miss the taste of Arizona tea, however, so you didn’t object to getting the tea. Eating your meal, the boy stayed with you while you ate. He didn’t seem to care about you for a minute, before he asked, “What's your name?”

You looked at him to see him close to the bed. You gulped down a piece of ham and said, “____. What's yours?”

“... Damian.”

“Oh, nice. So. When did they hire you?”

Damian did not answer you, but instead asked his own question. “When did you decide to join Lex Luthor?”

You gave him a look. “You must be new around here if you’re asking that.”

Finishing your ham, you moved to the mashed potatoes. “I don’t know why I’m here to be honest. I was taken here a few months ago. I was only found out by a colleague of his a few days ago when they saw me. Or was it a few weeks? I don’t know. I don’t have a calendar. I don’t even know what's going on in the world.” You laughed a little at the last part. However, you saw him start to ask something again.

But then, you had a bright idea. “Hey, speaking of which, what’s happening outside, around the world? People never tell me anything here.”

Damian gave you a look before saying, "Well, Wayne Enterprises is gaining more stock, and Lexcorp isn’t too happy about it."

Putting another piece of potatoes in your mouth, you laughed. "Lex was yelling about that yesterday. Talking about loss of money."

For the next 20 or so minutes, you talked with Damian and laughed with him about different things, and he would also tell you things about the world outside your luxurious penthouse.

Finally, after you finished your food, you put your dishes and trash on the food tray before you gave it to him. "Well. Thank you for keeping me company. Usually only Mercy is allowed to do that.” he nodded and took your tray before he placed it back on the nightstand next to you.

He gave you his hand, before asking, “Lex asked for you to be walked around tonight. He said you haven’t been out of the house for awhile.”

You gave him another look before telling him, “Damian, you do know I was at a gala today for at least 6 hours, right?”

His facade slipped then. You realized that when he stood tall, and he let his arms go to his sides instead of behind his back. At first, you thought he was going to attack you, but instead he pulled something out of his back pocket and he put it on. Then he took off his uniform and-

Oh, shit.

This was the kid you saw at the top of the building.

“I’m sure you can tell who I am by the look on your face. My name is Robin, and I’m here to take you away from here.”

~~~~~~

Sneaking past the large doors was easy enough, especially considering the fact that Damian knew what he was doing. He led you through the place like he had lived there, and before you knew it, you were almost to the parking garage. But when you both reached the elevator, instead of going down, he went up.

Giving him a look, he quickly explained. “People know you’re out: They think you’re alone, and since you don’t know of the rooftop area, they’re all gathered down there to get you.”

“How do you know that-”

“SHHH!” Damian gave you a look and turned to the left corridor that led to the large double doors that led to a lounge. He turned back to the elevator, and when he realized there wasn’t enough time for the elevator to come down, he quickly dragged you over to a large statue and hid you behind it along with himself.

You tried to listen but being pressed up against a statue was kind of difficult already. However, you did recognize the steps of the person walking. Pride, power- anger. Fast moving, loud, rage, it all sounded like Lex Luthor himself. And he sounded like he was carrying something.

Mercy was with him, you quickly realized, and she sounded a little muffled.

“-the little bitch got me right in the nose, and then I got knocked out, sir. He took one of the uniforms in the closet, he has black hair, he's short, and he doesn’t have his registry on him.”

“Tell that to the guards around the perimeter. Tell them that no one is going to leave this damn place until both ____ and that fucker are found.”

And with that, you heard someone reload a shotgun before heading into the elevator that was now there.

“Where do you think they’ll be?”

“She only knows the way to the parking garage, so we should look there first, sir. I don’t know how much the other one knows, but-”

When the elevator started to head down, Damian grabbed your arm and started to drag you towards… somewhere. Mercy was right, you had no idea where anything was. You only knew the way from the parking garage to your room. However, Damian seemed to know where to go.

“Uh, where are we going again?”

He turned back to you before gesturing to a large metal door. Stairs.

“We’re going to go up there and escape. We have to hurry, though: they will realize you aren’t in the parking garage.”

~~~~~

You were almost out of breath when you finally reached the rooftop. It felt like you were running for your life. It was so thrilling, and yet, the only thing keeping you going was freedom.

It wasn’t like you weren’t unappreciative of the things given to you by Lex, but you missed being able to walk around and be wherever without having 16 guards surrounding you.

Damian said something, but you didn’t hear it due to the blood pumping to your head: It sounded almost relaxing if it wasn’t increasing.

Dragging you around a bit, he whispered something into his comm, and again, you couldn’t hear it, but from the looks of it this entire thing was almost done.

Suddenly, something dropped seemingly from thin air. A rope.

Looking up, you saw a small, but fairly large ship floating right above you. Damian grabbed you by the waist and started to pull you up. You tried to help yourself, but not going anywhere really put a toll on your body, so he did most of the work. As you were halfway there, though, you heard a shot through the air, and turning around, you saw Lex holding a shotgun with multiple guards surrounding both you and Damian. Mercy was with Lex, and she looked pissed off, even with a bloody nose. Damian was also looking around. You heard something from his ear, along the lines of, “Plan B?” to which Damian responded, “Yeah, plan B.”

Suddenly, he cut the rope you both were hanging off of, and while falling, he got you over his shoulder and started to run towards an area where guards weren’t as plentiful. You were able to look up from your spot, but the only thing you saw was Lex reloading and Mercy yelling something. More guards started to chase the both of you, while Damian seemed to be choosing where to go. He suddenly changed directions, sprinting towards the edge of one building. Realizing what he was going to do, you asked, “That’s a 6 story drop, you know!”

He didn’t listen. He instead jumped and while you expected to die, you were glad that you were at least free of the strange man who kept you here. However, you landed on something: hard. It was the ship that tried to get you earlier!

Bringing you inside, you realized he must have jumped onto a platform. He brought you over to a table where he tried to see if you were injured, however, a gunshot made you both duck. Looking out of the closing platform, you saw Lex continuing to shoot at the ship, trying to take it down, but failing.

You turned back to the occupants of the ship itself and saw three more people besides Damian: One was the one who was standing with him on that rooftop, with two sticks at his sides, one who was tall and had a bright yellow suit on him, and one was at the front of the ship where it was hard to see anything.

The yellow suit guy came up to you first and offered his hand.

“Hi! My codename is Signal, but you can call me Duke. What’s your name?”

_____

fun fact! I was actually gonna have cass instead of duke, but I changed my mind last minute! also, have a bonus for the next chapter!

Bonus:

Lex was beyond pissed. His guards failed at the one thing they were supposed to be good at, and they failed. And it cost him his daughter, too. Mercy was the only thing keeping him from going on a rampage, telling him that the batkids probably had many hiding spots, that they manipulated you into going with them, all other things.

“I want you to find out where they took her and why. Oh, also, if you do find the one who took her?” Mercy nodded, awaiting orders. “I want him alive. I want to kill him myself.”

She nodded again and walked out of his office. As Lex started to walk back to his desk, he noticed there was still reminisce of glass on it. He looked at the broken window where Mercy said she had thrown the strange boy who had taken _____, before he climbed back up and knocked her out. Sighing, he let his hands curl into fists, before he grabbed the chair and threw it across the room, and then he flipped the table.

Rage was all that he could feel at the moment. No one knew of her existence: Who would’ve known? Who had met her and had such an interest that they had to take her from him? What happened-

Suddenly remembering the gala, Lex felt his face become hot and red. He was feeling more furious than he had ever been. He stormed over to one of the beautiful statues he owned in his office, before he pulled out another shotgun from the leg of the stone. He walked over to a different statue holding something in its hand, just in his reach, and picked it up. It was ammunition, and reloaded it so it was full. He stomped out of his office, ignoring glass that cut into his shoes.

“Bruce Wayne…” Luthor whispered to himself, getting his phone to call Mercy.

“I’m going to kill you.”

[anxiousnerdwritings]

hey!!! guess who's done!!! it's me, knull anon!! also fair warning for a 3k word fic thag I just made in two part today!!

p.s., theres also a bonus at the end!!! dont miss it!!

_____

Driving past the beautiful buildings and apartments, you rested your elbow on the car handle where you almost laid your head against the window had it not been for Mercy. “_____, you can’t sleep here.”

You mumbled out something strange before you rested your head on the head of your seat. You really wanted to sleep, as you couldn’t feel your feet when you got into the car, but you knew that your bed would be a lot more comfortable in the long run. 

You turned to look at Lex, and he was on the phone with someone. You didn’t even notice him, probably because he was whispering in an exasperated voice. You didn’t try to tune in, as he would probably notice either way, so instead you kept on looking out the window. You saw shops, restaurants, even other gala places like the one you were just at. You even saw the Lexcorp tower. 

One thing you remember from your past life was that someone… Was it your mother or father? It was both, right? Anyway, either one would always take you on a night drive every month, usually on a Tuesday for some strange reason. You would usually listen to music on these drives, and the lights in the towns and cities were always so pretty. Even now, it was pretty to you, since there weren’t many people this late at night and the shops were still running. You looked up to one building noticing the bright lights that accompanied the sign. But your attention turned to the top of the building. 

There seemed to be two people, one who was extremely tall, with two… sticks in his hands. And the other had a cape and a hoodie, who was shorter than the other man. This one also had a katana. You tried to get a better look, but the car started to move again, and you again tried to look back. But Mercy noticed.

“____, what are you looking at?” She asked, looking where you were watching. You looked back, but there was nothing there. “... I guess there was nothing there.” You whispered to yourself. “What?” Mercy asked. “Nothing. I thought I saw a person on the roof.”

Mercy didn’t say anything and she went back to looking around to make sure that the driver was going the way they were supposed to. 

~~~~~

“Dick, what the hell?!” Damian whispered to his older brother. Currently, they were hiding behind a wall on the building you were looking at. Dick sighed before he said, “Well, you were there too, so don’t just put the blame on me!”

“I’m not tall and I don’t wear bright colors!”

“Oh really-” Dick then noticed that Damian was not in his normal yellow and red suit, but instead he was in a more stealthy color. 

“The only thing I have is a bluebird on my chest!”

“A big blue bird-”

“Can you guys just… try to follow the car?” 

Tim was at his breaking point: he was really at his breaking point. Damian was heard arguing with Dick for a few more seconds before Tim just decided to follow the car himself. Which somehow worked. 

“Does anyone have a tracker on that thing?” Duke asked, also following the car. He wasn’t as tired as Tim, but he understood where he was coming from. “Yeah, I’ll send the location to you in just a sec.”

~~~~~

Driving up to the big gates, you felt really tired when you felt the car stop, but at least there weren't any paparazzi you had to run over. You got out of the car and started to walk with Mercy to the elevator, when you thought you heard something from the other side of the empty parking garage. You turned your head, only to see empty space and columns. You tried to look around more, but Mercy had started to lead you towards the elevator already. 

Getting into the elevator, you stood with Mercy to listen to the almost silent beeps of the elevator getting higher into the building. 

“Ah, I almost forgot, I’ll bring you your dinner to eat in the room. I understand your exhaustion.”

“Oh, what did the cook make?”

“Honey glazed ham with mashed potatoes and gravy.”

You remembered that from before you got here. Your mother would make that every day if you asked her to. You also started to notice how… nice mercy was being towards you. You remember when you first met her, she did not like you at all. In fact the only thing she would say is… well, nothing really. However, that was months ago. Now, she greets you and gives you small talk. She even gives you little presents if you’re good. 

When the elevator chimed to your floor, and the doors opened, you were expecting more guards then you saw. Usually there were more than 5 there, but there was no one in the hallway. Even Mercy looked a little shocked. However, she just took your hand and led you through the halls back to your room, where she then opened your door and pointed to the drawers. “You should probably change into something more comfortable. You aren’t going anywhere for another couple weeks at least, so that's a good thing.” 

You nodded and walked over to the dresser to change. You picked out a pair of pajamas that were extremely soft before you walked to the bathroom.

~~~~

Getting out of the bathroom you heard strange music coming from below you. It wasn’t ugly, or loud, just… rumblings of sad music. It sounded nice. You walked over to your overly plush bed and you crawled in, ignoring the strange feeling that was pooling in your mind. Something telling you to be alert, but you were too tired to care. Tossing and turning wasn’t helping you either. Finally you decided that it was getting unbearable. It was then you noticed that you never got a knock on the door from Mercy for your food. Groaning, you climbed out of bed only to notice how cold it felt. You slipped on some slippers that were also extremely soft and warm, before you walked to the door and tried to pull on the handle. It was locked. Of course it was. It's never open in the first place. You sighed and wondered where everyone went. You still felt the rumbling beneath you from the music, so you knew someone was down there, but you just didn’t know who.

Instead of freezing to death, however, you bundled yourself in many different blankets, most soft, fuzzy and warm. Waddling over to the bed you stumbled into your mattress and groaned. You wanted to just fall asleep, but something was keeping you awake. It was a nagging feeling like you just weren’t alone. You crawled your way so that you were leaning against your wall and you also had a view of the room to make sure that there wasn't anyone in there with you.

You were about to crawl back down but then, there was a noise at the door. It was unlocking, you thought, it was probably Mercy finally bringing you your food. However, when the door opened, it was not Mercy. In fact, it was a… boy. Probably a new servant, but still a boy. 

He looked to be about your age, and he was wearing the usual uniform that the servants would wear. He was also carrying a tray. 

Looking at you bundled up in almost all of your blankets, he gave you a small bow, as to not drop the food. You looked at him up and down, before you asked, “Who are you?”

He stood there, before he coughed a little, and said, “I’m the, uh, new butler assigned to bring you food.”

You gave him a look. “I thought Mercy was supposed to bring the food? Where is she?”

The boy looked a little surprised. “She’s, um, a little busy. With Luthor.”

You gave a nod before he brought the food to you. You unwrapped yourself from the blankets and leaned over to him a bit. He had a tray underneath his arm, and he brought it out so he could lay the food on your bed. He then placed both the tray to carry your food and your food itself onto your bed. Opening the cover, it revealed, just as Mercy had said, honey glazed ham and mashed potatoes and gravy. He gave you two cans of Arizona tea- Arizona tea? 

You checked the labels again, surprised that Lex would even give this to you. Usually he gave you a better drink, and something “better”. You did miss the taste of Arizona tea, however, so you didn’t object to getting the tea. Eating your meal, the boy stayed with you while you ate. He didn’t seem to care about you for a minute, before he asked, “What's your name?”

You looked at him to see him close to the bed. You gulped down a piece of ham and said, “____. What's yours?”

“... Damian.”

“Oh, nice. So. When did they hire you?”

Damian did not answer you, but instead asked his own question. “When did you decide to join Lex Luthor?”

You gave him a look. “You must be new around here if you’re asking that.”

Finishing your ham, you moved to the mashed potatoes. “I don’t know why I’m here to be honest. I was taken here a few months ago. I was only found out by a colleague of his a few days ago when they saw me. Or was it a few weeks? I don’t know. I don’t have a calendar. I don’t even know what's going on in the world.” You laughed a little at the last part. However, you saw him start to ask something again.

But then, you had a bright idea. “Hey, speaking of which, what’s happening outside, around the world? People never tell me anything here.”

Damian gave you a look before saying, "Well, Wayne Enterprises is gaining more stock, and Lexcorp isn’t too happy about it."

Putting another piece of potatoes in your mouth, you laughed. "Lex was yelling about that yesterday. Talking about loss of money."

For the next 20 or so minutes, you talked with Damian and laughed with him about different things, and he would also tell you things about the world outside your luxurious penthouse.

Finally, after you finished your food, you put your dishes and trash on the food tray before you gave it to him. "Well. Thank you for keeping me company. Usually only Mercy is allowed to do that.” he nodded and took your tray before he placed it back on the nightstand next to you.

He gave you his hand, before asking, “Lex asked for you to be walked around tonight. He said you haven’t been out of the house for awhile.”

You gave him another look before telling him, “Damian, you do know I was at a gala today for at least 6 hours, right?”

His facade slipped then. You realized that when he stood tall, and he let his arms go to his sides instead of behind his back. At first, you thought he was going to attack you, but instead he pulled something out of his back pocket and he put it on. Then he took off his uniform and-

Oh, shit. 

This was the kid you saw at the top of the building. 

“I’m sure you can tell who I am by the look on your face. My name is Robin, and I’m here to take you away from here.”

~~~~~~

Sneaking past the large doors was easy enough, especially considering the fact that Damian knew what he was doing. He led you through the place like he had lived there, and before you knew it, you were almost to the parking garage. But when you both reached the elevator, instead of going down, he went up. 

Giving him a look, he quickly explained. “People know you’re out: They think you’re alone, and since you don’t know of the rooftop area, they’re all gathered down there to get you.”

“How do you know that-”

“SHHH!” Damian gave you a look and turned to the left corridor that led to the large double doors that led to a lounge. He turned back to the elevator, and when he realized there wasn’t enough time for the elevator to come down, he quickly dragged you over to a large statue and hid you behind it along with himself. 

You tried to listen but being pressed up against a statue was kind of difficult already. However, you did recognize the steps of the person walking. Pride, power- anger. Fast moving, loud, rage, it all sounded like Lex Luthor himself. And he sounded like he was carrying something.

Mercy was with him, you quickly realized, and she sounded a little muffled.

“-the little bitch got me right in the nose, and then I got knocked out, sir. He took one of the uniforms in the closet, he has black hair, he's short, and he doesn’t have his registry on him.”

“Tell that to the guards around the perimeter. Tell them that no one is going to leave this damn place until both ____ and that fucker are found.”

And with that, you heard someone reload a shotgun before heading into the elevator that was now there. 

“Where do you think they’ll be?”

“She only knows the way to the parking garage, so we should look there first, sir. I don’t know how much the other one knows, but-” 

When the elevator started to head down, Damian grabbed your arm and started to drag you towards… somewhere. Mercy was right, you had no idea where anything was. You only knew the way from the parking garage to your room. However, Damian seemed to know where to go. 

“Uh, where are we going again?”

He turned back to you before gesturing to a large metal door. Stairs.

“We’re going to go up there and escape. We have to hurry, though: they will realize you aren’t in the parking garage.”

~~~~~

You were almost out of breath when you finally reached the rooftop. It felt like you were running for your life. It was so thrilling, and yet, the only thing keeping you going was freedom.

It wasn’t like you weren’t unappreciative of the things given to you by Lex, but you missed being able to walk around and be wherever without having 16 guards surrounding you.

Damian said something, but you didn’t hear it due to the blood pumping to your head: It sounded almost relaxing if it wasn’t increasing.

Dragging you around a bit, he whispered something into his comm, and again, you couldn’t hear it, but from the looks of it this entire thing was almost done.

Suddenly, something dropped seemingly from thin air. A rope.

Looking up, you saw a small, but fairly large ship floating right above you. Damian grabbed you by the waist and started to pull you up. You tried to help yourself, but not going anywhere really put a toll on your body, so he did most of the work. As you were halfway there, though, you heard a shot through the air, and turning around, you saw Lex holding a shotgun with multiple guards surrounding both you and Damian. Mercy was with Lex, and she looked pissed off, even with a bloody nose. Damian was also looking around. You heard something from his ear, along the lines of, “Plan B?” to which Damian responded, “Yeah, plan B.”

Suddenly, he cut the rope you both were hanging off of, and while falling, he got you over his shoulder and started to run towards an area where guards weren’t as plentiful. You were able to look up from your spot, but the only thing you saw was Lex reloading and Mercy yelling something. More guards started to chase the both of you, while Damian seemed to be choosing where to go. He suddenly changed directions, sprinting towards the edge of one building. Realizing what he was going to do, you asked, “That’s a 6 story drop, you know!”

He didn’t listen. He instead jumped and while you expected to die, you were glad that you were at least free of the strange man who kept you here. However, you landed on something: hard. It was the ship that tried to get you earlier!

Bringing you inside, you realized he must have jumped onto a platform. He brought you over to a table where he tried to see if you were injured, however, a gunshot made you both duck. Looking out of the closing platform, you saw Lex continuing to shoot at the ship, trying to take it down, but failing. 

You turned back to the occupants of the ship itself and saw three more people besides Damian: One was the one who was standing with him on that rooftop, with two sticks at his sides, one who was tall and had a bright yellow suit on him, and one was at the front of the ship where it was hard to see anything.

The yellow suit guy came up to you first and offered his hand. 

“Hi! My codename is Signal, but you can call me Duke. What’s your name?”

______

wow!! that was fun to write!!! I might write a third part but that yanpapa starro anon... ur on to something. Also I need to start on part 3 of "how symbiotes stole you from one another that led to that one trilogy about toxin playing uno with you to getting drugged by cletus kassady". yay! anyways, love you so much, with lots of love,

- knull anon

Bonus:

Lex was beyond pissed. His guards failed at the one thing they were supposed to be good at, and they failed. And it cost him his daughter, too. Mercy was the only thing keeping him from going on a rampage, telling him that the batkids probably had many hiding spots, that they manipulated you into going with them, all other things.

“I want you to find out where they took her and why. Oh, also, if you do find the one who took her?” Mercy nodded, awaiting orders. “I want him alive. I want to kill him myself.”

She nodded again and walked out of his office. As Lex started to walk back to his desk, he noticed there was still reminisce of glass on it. He looked at the broken window where Mercy said she had thrown the strange boy who had taken _____, before he climbed back up and knocked her out. Sighing, he let his hands curl into fists, before he grabbed the chair and threw it across the room, and then he flipped the table.

Rage was all that he could feel at the moment. No one knew of her existence: Who would’ve known? Who had met her and had such an interest that they had to take her from him? What happened-

Suddenly remembering the gala, Lex felt his face become hot and red. He was feeling more furious than he had ever been. He stormed over to one of the beautiful statues he owned in his office, before he pulled out another shotgun from the leg of the stone. He walked over to a different statue holding something in its hand, just in his reach, and picked it up. It was ammunition, and reloaded it so it was full. He stomped out of his office, ignoring glass that cut into his shoes.

“Bruce Wayne…” Luthor whispered to himself, getting his phone to call Mercy. 

“I’m going to kill you.”

Oh, wow! You’re really something, Knull anon! This was exceptional! *chef’s kiss* 🥰😍💚💕💖

[mascwhump]

Chapter 7 - Classified

TW: blood, mild manhandling

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow

-

There was a heavy silence in the room while Mallory scanned the pages of Crow's journal. Crow was understandably agitated. He was pulling against the chains with a scowl on his face.

"'March 22nd,'" Mallory began reading, "'The new kid comes today. Don't know much about him, only that he's a great shot. He'll be the only yank on the team. Expecting a lot of fun to come from that. Adrian already has a few ideas for how we can fuck with him.'"

Charlie cracked a small smile. They did indeed give him a lot of shit for being American. Adrian had enough pranks to last him months. Mallory flipped the page and continued reading.

"'March 23rd. Kid seems nice. He's pretty quiet. I wonder how long that'll last. He did the dishes without being asked last night. If he keeps that up, I might have to work harder to keep his arse around.’"

"It didn't last long," Adrian said, laughing.

Crow shot him a look that made him silent. Charlie had to admit, it was sort of nice to know what Crow was thinking for once. He had a feeling Adrian and Ethan felt the same way, but the clear invasion of privacy made it bittersweet. Mallory flipped to the next page but didn't read anything from it, instead he went back to skimming. He flipped about 15 pages before reading again.

"’April 9th. At the range. I'm sitting here wondering where the kid learned to shoot like that. He handles that sniper like Van Gogh handled a paintbrush. It's an art.’ Sounds like you’ve got an admirer, Charlie.”

Crow looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact. He had a blank expression now, but he was chewing on his lip. Charlie felt guilty. The room was quiet for a little while as Mallory skimmed through more pages.

“You’re a pretty good artist, I’ll give you that,” Mallory said, turning the journal toward the group. It was a drawing of some mountains from a previous mission. The team had remained in that spot for almost twelve hours, waiting for nightfall. It was incredibly detailed and took up both pages of the book. Mallory went back to flipping pages, and finally stopped on one.

“Oh, this. This is what I was looking for,” he said, a smirk growing on his lips.

Crow’s head shot toward him, the color draining from his face. He must’ve known what page he found. He opened his mouth to protest, but Mallory started to read.

“‘August 22nd. Got a few days off. Celebrated by drinking. I’m drunk. Too many drinks. Charlie fell in the fire pit. Will now be known as Flame. I’m too drunk. Had to hide in my room. Too afraid of saying something I shouldn’t. Charlie came to the door and asked me to come back. Told him I would. I’m afraid. Can’t fuck this up.’”

“Stop,” Crow muttered.

Charlie’s heart was in his throat. He was nervous; he couldn’t imagine what Crow was feeling. Adrian was looking over at him, and Ethan was acting like he wasn’t paying attention. Mallory continued to the next page.

“‘I read that writing down what you’re feeling and then burning the paper is a good way to solve bad feelings. It’s not a bad feeling but maybe it’ll make me stop thinking about it. I’m going to try. I knew on the first day that he would be special. Just didn’t realize how much so. Didn’t know someone could make me feel this way. I hate it. Hate that I’ll never be able to say it out loud. Sometimes I watch him, and I just want to tell him everything. I hope he knows that he’s perfect.’”

Crow pulled his knees up and hid his face in them. Mallory snapped the journal closed. He didn’t say anything, but looked around the room with a delighted look. Charlie’s heart was racing. Between what he just heard and his low blood sugar, he thought he would pass out.

“I’ll let you all sit with that for awhile. Charlie, you still need to get cleaned up,” Mallory said

He handed the journal to one of the soldiers and told them to wipe Ethan’s face with a rag.

“If you fight me again, Charlie, I won’t just stab you, but I’ll stab everyone else in this room,” Mallory threatened.

Charlie nodded. The handcuffs came off and were put back on after he stood. He took a glance at his team before leaving the room. Mallory lead him down the hall, one hand on his arm and the other on his shoulder.

“So, tell me. How do you feel about that?” He asked.

“About what?” Charlie asked.

“About what your Captain wrote about you, idiot.”

“Don’t know yet,” Charlie mumbled.

He was too focused on the intense nausea to think about it.

“Well, I think it’s kind of sweet, you know? Although, it’s a little problematic. Superior-subordinate relationships tend to be frowned upon. Not to mention the fact that you’re both men. The military really doesn’t like that, from what I hear.”

Charlie stopped walking.

“I don’t need your input,” he spat, “This doesn’t involve you whatsoever.”

“Oh, but it does. After all, if it wasn’t for me, you most likely would never have even found out,” Mallory replied, nudging Charlie to keep moving.

Charlie grit his teeth and kept walking. He didn’t have the energy to fight it. They continued until they reached a door near the end of the hall. It was the room Charlie had been kept in the last few weeks. He swallowed, eyeing his blanket in the corner of the room. Mallory pushed him toward the bathroom and had him stand in the corner while he ran the bath. Once it was filled, he removed the handcuffs from Charlie’s wrists.

“I’ll be outside,” Mallory said.

He stepped out and shut the curtain. Charlie undressed and slipped in the bath. He grabbed a washcloth from the side and scrubbed the dried blood from his abdomen and face.

“I bet you’re hungry,” Mallory said from outside.

Charlie didn’t reply. He scrubbed his skin until it was red, then rinsed off before stepping out of the bath.

“Uh, there’s no towel,” he said.

“That’s unfortunate. I’m not leaving you to go get one,” Mallory said.

“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Just put on your clothes.”

Charlie sighed and slipped on his underwear and sweatpants over his wet skin.

“Are you dressed?”

“Yup.”

Mallory slid open the curtain.

“Ha, your hair is kind of cute when it’s wet,” he said.

“Don’t fucking call me cute,” Charlie hissed.

They left the bathroom. Mallory walked over to the wall where the chains were and motioned for Charlie to come to him.

“You’re leaving me in here?”

“For now.”

Charlie didn’t protest. He wanted to go back to his team, but he knew that he wouldn’t win this battle. He reluctantly let Mallory attach the chains that kept him to the wall.

“Remember, you still owe me a favor,” Mallory said as he left the room.

Charlie sat on the floor next to his mat. He didn’t want to get it or his blanket wet. He closed his eyes. All he could think about now was food. His hands were cold and shaking as he fought the nausea. Luckily, it wasn’t long before the door opened again. This time, a solider entered with a plate of food. His eyes lit up. She placed it on the floor in front of him and stood against the back wall while he ate.

It was a boring meal of cooked carrots, a bread roll, and a tiny slice of ham. He didn’t care. He ate fast, almost too fast. The food was gone in a minute and the solider took the plate before leaving. Slowly feeling his energy and strength returning, he let out a content sigh. His mind was clearing up.

He wasn’t sure if that was blessing or a curse, because now, all he could think about was Crow.

He knew he wasn’t bothered. He was just confused. It was a surprise to him; he never would have guessed in a million years that Crow felt that way about him. Then again, Crow was a master at hiding emotion. He could be having the best day of his life and still keep a straight face. He was the definition of running away from your problems.

Charlie was worried about what was going to change. He knew it would be awkward. Not just between them, but the entire team. It had to be discussed. There couldn’t be an elephant in the room. But that would have to wait - this wasn’t the time or place to do it.

He started to get a headache. He crawled under his blanket on his mat and closed his eyes.

-

When Charlie woke up, his mouth was dry and his headache hadn’t gotten any better. He groaned as he sat up, vision blurry. He froze when he noticed Mallory sitting in the corner of the room. He was scrolling on his phone, and glanced up at Charlie before going back to what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” Charlie questioned as he began rubbing his temples.

Mallory ignored him. He stood up, but stayed in the opposite side of the room. Charlie watched him, confused, as he started typing. Finally, after a few minutes, he walked over to Charlie.

“I have a question for you. You have one chance to tell me the truth,” Mallory said.

He turned his phone to face Charlie. On the screen was a video of Deke on CCTV. He was in a stolen uniform of one of the soldiers. He entered a room, then left with a file in hand.

“Who is this?”

[rosevanhelsing]

Wendigo

Chapter 20.

As Vic made her way to the gas station, Manx straightened up, sat on the couch, and watched Alice. The girl was shivering with cold since she was only wearing a nightgown.

-Come on, pretty. You're shivering with cold and you're going to catch pneumonia.

Alice approached him suspiciously. Charlie smiled, trying not to show his pointed teeth and said:

-Come, sit here a little while. I do not bite.

She sat on the opposite side of the couch but she didn't say anything. Manx took his coat and wrapped Alice up so she wouldn't get cold.

-That's better, isn't it? - said Charlie

Alice nodded in response. Charlie was curious to know what kind of inscape and special ability that girl might have to attract the Wendigo's attention so he subtly started asking her.

-Why was that bad man chasing you to kill you?

-I do not know. That man came into our house at night, I don't know why the alarm didn't go off, he came into my room, woke me up and said that people like me shouldn't exist, that we are bad and that he was going to kill me and then eat me - she said in a distressed voice.

-It is awful. You must have been terribly afraid. Lucky Vic rescued you.

-What was that man referring to "people like me"?

Charlie said:

-It means that you are a very, very special little person. Tell me, have you ever been in a place that is the same as you have imagined?

-Yes. Repeatedly. I have a place that I always go to. I call it The Forgotten Yard. I discovered it one day while going for a walk with my parents. Once I was there for a long time and my parents were very scared. They believed someone had kidnapped me.

- Oh, and how did you get in? Did you take something special with you?

- Like what?

- Something that you like a lot, and that you always wear when you go to the Forgotten Yard

 Alice thought a bit, and said:

"I think this," she said showing him a pendant of a little angel.

- How beautiful. Did your parents give it to you?

- No, my grandmother before going to heaven

- "Wow. I must be losing my faculties”- Manx said to himself, -“I should have been able to guess this”

At that moment, the Wraith sent him a telepathic message:

- This woman is a mess. She is driving me out of pain ...

- Well, take the initiative. Make driving easier.

The Wraith's engine roared a little under its breath as if it were huffing with resignation, though Vic didn't notice. In a subtle way, the Rolls made it easier for Vic to drive, anticipating her movements on the gear lever and clutch. Vic arrived at the gas station, put in the gasoline that Charlie had indicated, and went inside to buy a can of gasoline, oil, distilled water and some food.

While Vic was shopping, the Rolls asked Charlie if he wanted him to turn Vic into someone like him .... Charlie thought for a moment and said:

- No, now is not the time. That moment will come, sooner or later, Vic will end up being mine ... and she will be the one who begs me.

The Wraith's engine purred and she waited patiently for Vic. She loaded the bags into the front seat and they returned to the library. Vic called to let them  know that she was there and went upstairs

- Wow, Charlie. You have better color ... - Vic said- At least now, you don't look like a vampire at all ...

- You are so funny ... - Manx said sarcastically

 Vic looked at Alice peacefully asleep on the sofa and decided to wait for her to wake up alone, she sat on the floor and said:

- I'm going to call Tabitha to send the FBI and Child Care to take care of Alice and give her police protection as long as they don't capture or kill the Wendigo. If he is smart, he will not face the police, fortunately he is not practically immortal like you.

- I keep insisting that Alice should come with me to Christmasland, Vic. She is a creative soul, they will not understand her and that matter will get out of hand- said Charlie- By the way, in your absence, I have found out what her inner landscape is called, and what is her supposed "knife" ...

-Maybe it would be better for her if she didn't use her powers, so that the Wendigo couldn't track her again ... -Vic said

- Definitely. To do this, if you don't want her to come with me, we should take the knife from her, even destroy it. It is the pendant that she wears, it was given to her by her late grandmother.

- Charlie! Surely it is the only memory left of the poor girl of her grandmother. Surely there is a better way to explain it to her or to convince her to "lend" us her pendant while the Wendigo is on the loose ...

- What about my pendant? Alice asked half asleep

"You woke up, sleepyhead," Charlie said affably.

- Nothing, Alice.  I was simply commenting to Charlie that we had to tell you that you should not enter the Forgotten Yard while the Wendigo is on the loose.

- The Wendigo is the bad man who killed my parents?

-Yes. In a while I will call the police and they will protect you and hide you. The Wendigo will not come near you. But while to facilitate their work, do not enter your inscape.

-Inscape?

-That's what the Forgotten Yard is. A place created with your imagination and that you can make real and enter it.

- The Bridge that we cross also an inscape?

-Yes. It's mine

-And the amusement park where it is always Christmas from Mr. Vampire, too?

"Yes, it is too," Vic said as she laughed at the nickname Alice gave Charlie. "Now what do you think if we eat a little?"

 Alice nodded and Vic took the sandwiches she had bought out of her backpack.

-Are there any without meat or fish? I am vegetarian- Alice asked

Charlie rolled his eyes and said:

-You have to see  that you children are fussy  nowadays ... that if I'm allergic, that I don't like that or that ... take a walk with the Wraith and she will take away all that nonsense ...

-Don't worry Alice. I can take the ham off the sandwich… Vic said. She removed the ham from the sandwich and handed it to the girl with a reproachful look at Manx.

Alice stuck her tongue out at Charlie. Manx grunted and said:

- Jesus, look at how badly they educate children nowadays ...

Charlie took the distilled water and oil and said.

-I'm going to put the water and oil in the car. Leave me some of this delicacy ... he said ironically

While Manx was busy with the car, Vic called Tabitha to arrange Alice's pickup time. She also took the opportunity to call home and inform Lou of the situation and calm him down. Lou said:

- An invitation for Halloween has arrived from the publisher of your books. For a costume party, set in the 1930s.

- For parties I am ... we'll see ... how is the theme of Wayne's birthday?

- All ready. I have bought everything the puppy will need. Shall we pick up the puppy with Wayne or may he be surprised when he arrives?

- I don't know, Lou. I don't know what would make you more funny ... Let me finish fixing the girl and when this is over, I'll go home and talk about it. I have to hang up or I run out of battery.

- Okay.

When Charlie returned, Alice was half asleep with her head in Vic's lap. Manx took one of the sandwiches and one of the sodas and satiated his hunger a little. Vic said:

- We have to take care of the Wendigo, Charlie. I'll do it with or without you. I can't allow it to destroy more lives, like Alice's.

- We'll do that.- Charlie said sitting down next to her. -Miss Leigh predicted with her Scrabble tiles that we could beat him together." If the two of you were about to kill me ... imagine what the two of us can do. Vic, I am sure that right now we are the most powerful creatives- said Charlie enthusiastically, taking Vic gently by the shoulders and turning her towards him so that he looked into her eyes - We will come up with something ... and we are not going to die, none of the two. Since we have started this, we are going to finish it.

Vic smiled at him and held out her hand to fit him

- Done deal. The creative soul team will kick the Wendigo's butt and send him to hell.

Charlie laughed and looked directly at Vic as if he wanted to hypnotize her with his gaze, suddenly the Wraith began to honk its horn, and police sirens sounded in the distance.

- I think I'd better go, Vic. When you have a plan and are ready, just tell me.

- I will do it.

Charlie went downstairs, but instead of leaving, he sent the Wraith a few miles farther and hid in the shadows to watch. Vic and Alice went downstairs and spoke to that police officer who had chased him once. Vic hugged Alice and said

- They will take care of you. The bad man won't come for you.

Alice hugged him back tightly and said:

-Thank you for saving me, Vic. - She suddenly took off her pendant and said, "I'll lend you the little angel that my grandmother gave me to protect me.  It sure protects you too. You will return it to me when we meet again. Why will we meet again, right?

- Of course. When the Police and I are done with the Wendigo, I'll come see you and give it back to you. You have my word.

From the darkness, Charlie watched the scene intently, licked his lips and said to himself:

- You have changed a lot, Vic McQueen ... now you are worthy of being Mrs. Christmasland.

[katelynn-a-fan]

An Eve to Remember

This is my gift of @destinys-dragon. I’ve had creative block for nearly a whole month... I cranked out more than half of this today in 4ish hours so I’m glad to finally be able to gift this to you. I picked one of your more complicated prompts (I think) to write, but I did it!

Ao3

Summary: Thomas Sanders is trying to get a good nights rest for Christmas the next day, but a confusing appearance in his own mind leads him down a different path to... his own living room? Not everything's the same in his mind but by golly he is going to help his Sides the best he can to make sure that that night is the best Christmas (eve) they've had yet.

Parings: LAMP and Dukeciet/Demus

Word count: 4902 / 4.9k

Warning: Disorientation, slightly disturbing visuals, (passionate) Kissing, 

Thomas took a few experimental blinks as the heady feeling of drowsiness slowly ebbed away. His hand sluggishly rubbed his brow, insistent on kneading the fuzziness in his head out. Maybe then he could remember exactly how he got there.

Where am I?

His eyes very, very slowly adjusted to surroundings as his hands skirted across the tile-

The… tile… under him?

Why is there tile under me? That shouldn't be there unless I’m-

“Oh, you’re finally here!” His own voice called out from above him, but that wasn’t something unknown to him. What was unknown to him is how he got to where he was at that moment.

Thomas craned his neck towards the familiar pair of Warby Parker glasses and the soft gray and light blue blur of Patton. Another agonizing blinks passed before Thomas’s eyes finally resolved Patton’s face and his… blue and grey Christmas sweater? Even with the different attire, Patton’s signature grin was just as wide as always.

“Huh… hey Patton… Um…” Thomas bit his lip, his eyes glancing at various features around him. Sticking his hand out, Patton’s grin dipped a few millimeters as Thomas accepted Patton’s hand. Quickly pulling him up, Patton smoothed his thumb over Thomas’s knuckles. 

“Yes, Thomas?” 

He lingered his gaze around the clear space he was in, the short hallway of his own apartment. His gaze scoured every inch of the space, and everything about it just screamed: Different! 

“This… isn’t my actual apartment.”

Smile tilting sideways on his face, Patton wrapped his hands fully around Thomas’s.

“Of course it isn’t, silly! You’re asleep right now!”

Thomas’s hands flexed a little between Patton’s hands.

“I am? I’ve never done this before though- Been here with you guys before, I mean.”

Gently turning his hands, Patton made his grip into a proper handhold and began to lead Thomas down the much, much longer than usual corridor.

Laughing slightly Patton turned back to Thomas with a very sly twinkle in his eye.

“Oh you have, you just don’t remember afterwards-”

“Wait what-”

“Daddy! You left me alone with the cookies and nothing to fuck and I got myself dirty!” 

Thomas jumped as he finally rounded the nonsensical corner into his dream kitchen. Remus was standing on the counter with a fair amount of beige matter spattering his outfit, hair, and even his moustache. 

Letting go of Thomas’s hand finally, Patton grabbed a rag and quickly dampened it in the sink before tossing it up to Remus. Immediately snatching it out of the air, Remus bounced on the balls of his feet before sitting on the counter instead and swinging his legs as he cleaned himself off.

“Here you go! I’m surprised you didn’t set the kitchen on fire like last time.”

Hands pausing on his face, Remus’s legs quickly stopped swinging as Remus’s eyes went wide and he pushed his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I only make a mess when I’m not actually making something! That time I wasn’t even cooking anything.”

Placing a hand on Remus’s shoulder, Patton squeezed Remus’s shoulder.

“Hey, I believe you. It’s not everyday we do this. I’m sorry I assumed-”

Remus brushed off Patton’s hand from his shoulder after a moment, but grabbed it just before it was too far. 

“Nah I’m kidding about being mad, dear Daddy! Fires are just one of the hazards of being me!” 

Making eye contact, Patton smiled at Remus once again.

“Well that’s good! Thomas is here, though I think you knew that already.”

A smirk immediately plastered onto Remus’s face as he glanced over to where Thomas had been shifting from foot to foot in the kitchen entrance. 

“Ah, our resident Thomas the Dank Engine! Have you ever had dreams of sugar dicks dancing through your head?”

Thomas’s smile slowly turned wooden as a bitter taste invaded his mouth at Remus’s words. Skin crawling slightly, Thomas swallowed down a small lump in his throat before he managed to reply. 

I just want something wholesome. I don’t want to be thinking of that when I’m watching my parents or when I myself open presents.

“Uh, no…?”

“Well you just might have some after tonight!” Cackling, Remus stood back up on the counter before impossibly scurrying up the cupboards. The ceiling stretched impossibly high and out so that Remus slowly became just a pair of eyes in a dark cavern above the kitchen. Luckily, the moment didn’t last long and just as fast, Remus was scrambling down the cupboards once again to sit on the counter beside Patton.

Patton’s expression didn’t betray anything other than acute disinterest, however his hands silently tumbled over each other for a few moments.

“Well, Thomas, come here! We’re baking everything for the others!” Waving his hand invitingly, Patton gestured also to the oven where the oven light revealed a tray of cookies, a full blown turkey, a slab of ham, as well as some other things that managed to fill the impossibly big oven.

Thomas finally stepped forward.

Nose twitching a little, Thomas was suddenly bombarded with the strong smell of cookies.

“Whoa! This kitchen smells like the perfect Christmas, Pat!”

Chuckling, Patton wrapped his arms around Thomas in a quick hug.

“Well that’s the idea, kiddo!”

Squinting, he followed Patton with his eyes as Patton stepped back, the sensation of Patton’s embrace lingering on his skin.

“Did you just sneak in that hug because you ever get to in my videos? That hug seemed very targeted.”

Cheeks quickly turning pink, Patton nearly ducked his head away as he stepped back against the sink.

“That may be part of the reason.”

At that moment, the words embroidered on Patton and Remus' sweater finally revealed themselves.

Patton’s predictably read: Feliz Navi Dad and a Happy Blue Year.

But Remus’s was nearly illegible as the chaos of neon green on black made it almost unreadable, eventually, the words came together to spell out: I’m theTrashman and I’ll have all your wrapping paper.

Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but a sound in the short distance caught his attention instead. He turned towards the source, over the counter and surely into the living room, but was met with the strangely comforting void of black beyond it.

“What’s happening in the living room? And why can’t I see it?”

Glancing fleetingly at the black void, Patton bounced over to Thomas.

“Oh that’s just your mind doing it’s thing. Not everything in this mind kitchen is going to be exactly the same, and sometimes when something’s changed, it just becomes blank space. It’s nice.” Patton gestured past Thomas towards the other direction both of them came from. “By the way, it’s not just us who’re here, everyone else is down the hall. You don’t have to stay talking with us. We still have a bit to do anyways.”

Eyes widening, Thomas whipped around towards the entrance of the kitchen and strained his ears towards the faint sounds from down the hall Thomas hadn’t been paying any attention to until now.

“There’s more to this place?”

A sparkle in his eyes had Patton’s smile widening and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yes! And you can go wherever you want. This is your head after all.”

Thomas took an initial step towards the edge of the kitchen before he turned around and gave both a fleeting look and a comforting smile before he stepped out of the kitchen with a wave.

Just like the hallway from the entrance, the space between the hallway and the living room was strange, even the sounds were farther than they should’ve been.

The slightly harsher light from the overhead kitchen light slowly faded to something much more muted and pleasant as Thomas treaded carefully down the short end of the hallway to where the sounds of the other were coming from.

Shoulders the slightest bit hunched, Thomas tentatively peeked out from the corner of the hallway where it opened up into the living room. With a gasp, Thomas nearly fell into the living room at the sight that lay before him.

The space was definitely recognizable as his apartment, yet somehow completely different. Instead of the smaller dimensions of his real apartment, the living room was now a much larger open space full of architecture reminiscent of a log cabin. 

The staircase was still there, but was made of the more rustic wood like everything else. Something completely and entirely new was the roaring fire in a fireplace below the TV that was mounted above it instead of being in the corner like usual.

Not only that, but everything was also decorated to the nines in Christmas decorations, tinsel strung on the mantle very delicately and securely, a wreath on some of the posts, and the main attraction, the Christmas tree twinkling in the dim firelight.

As for the others, they were hovering near the Christmas tree. Logan was closest to Thomas, back to Thomas as he faced everyone else. Janus was hunched over the very bottom of the tree, placing a golden ornament among the gold and silver ornaments near the bottom of the tree.

Thomas frowned, his hands coming to clasp in front of him as his eyes fell on Virgil and Roman.

Virgil was swaying as he sat upon Roman’s shoulders. Reaching up, he hesitated at each little sway to put the purple colored ornament near the top of the very tall tree. 

As a particularly violent sway sent both of them nearly off balance, Thomas nearly bolted forward to catch them, but Logan simply took a step towards them and pushed gently at a specific part of Roman’s back. The gesture was so subtle that Roman didn’t even pause as he laughed, securing Virgil on his shoulders without a glance backwards at Logan.

Even Roman didn’t notice, Thomas had, and he smiled at Logan as he came back to a different spot, but just as far away as the previous spot from the tree.

Something unusually tense in Logan’s back has Thomas’s feet immediately bringing him up beside Logan.

Thomas placed a hand on Logan’s arm once he was close enough. However, Logan quickly began to step to the side, but Thomas’s grip remained, halting Logan as soon as he began to move.

Neither of them said anything, a simple nod passing between them before the simultaneously turned back to watch Virgil and Roman’s antics.

“They are somehow so careful and yet so reckless. I can’t understand them sometimes.”

“Do they know they could’ve just conjured a ladder to do this?”

Turning to Thomas, Logan leveled a single eyebrow at Thomas, his expression still neutral.

“Sure, but then we wouldn’t get to see this… entertaining display.”

A slight upturn of Logan’s lips and a dusting of pick on his cheeks had Thomas looking back to the teetering disaster waiting to happen. Then back at Roman and Virgil. Then back at Logan.

A smile of Thomas’s own blossomed on his face.

Even the message on Logan’s dark blue and black sweater emphasized the moment, showing the periodic table with elements labeled Cu, Ti, E, all highlighted.

But Thomas didn’t address that as Logan subtly moved his hands behind his back, the edge of an object in his hand peeking out for a split second

“What is that in your hand? I see you hiding it.”

Bringing his hands farther away from Thomas with the offending item, Logan’s Adam’s apple bobbed conspicuously before Logan cleared his throat and spoke.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mouth popping open, Thomas’s mouth was open in the ghost of a word before he froze, his face falling as his eyes darted back and forth a bit. Straightening his back, Thomas closed his mouth before placing a subtle, comforting hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“Oh, I suppose it’s a secret? Well then I won’t spoil it. Wouldn’t want to force your hand,” Thomas lightly tapped his pointer finger to his lips with a small smirk on his face. “I won’t keep you from whatever you’re doing.”

And with that, Thomas gave Logan a wink and stepped over to where Janus was still half bent over the tree.

“Hey Janus.”

Janus glanced up with his usual impassive expression, but the moment he met Thomas’s eyes, Janus’s face immediately melted into the smallest of smiles. The moment didn’t last long, a look from Janus returned by Thomas.

“Ah our creator. My humblest greetings.”

“I’m not your creator Janus. You are as much a part of me as I am in this place.”

“And yet, each of us here are so incredibly different. All thanks to you.”

Thomas’s cheeks heated rapidly, though his level expression suggested he was trying not to acknowledge that fact.

“Whatever.”

Both of them turned as Roman and Virgil began to exclaim, something about going too fast, lost in the flurry of limbs as they once again began to fall, but this time righted themselves completely unaided.

They each took a few moments, muttering words only each other could hear before Roman’s eyes turned to the bottom of the tree and the most incredulous sound imaginable came from his lips.

“Why must you defy everything I planned for this tree Mr. Slick and Grinchy?”

Crouching down, Janus made no effort to reply or react at all at first. He completed the gesture of placing the ornament and standing back up before his eyes even flickered to Roman in the slightest.

“Society is an illusion and so is perfect beauty or aesthetic.”

Roman frowned, huffing as he crossed his arms. 

“I may not understand what exactly that means, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re wrong about that! The ornaments should be evenly distributed across the tree instead of all of those ornaments being at the bottom.”

However, despite the passionate speech, Janus’s expression remained neutral, a yawn that appeared 100% genuine only adding to the message.

“Well, when you finally conjure that ladder, I’ll be happy to place some of these nearer to the top.”

Roman’s gasp this time was devoid of all it’s incredulousness this time, his eyes bugging out as he gently slapped his head with his hand the best he could while holding onto Virgil.

“It’s not often I say this, but… Mr. Humbug, you’re righ-”

“It’s time!” Thomas jumped, turning around to Patton’s head sticking out from the hallway. They made eye contact and Patton jerked his head back in the direction of the hall.

“Hey Thomas, some help with the drinks, Remus and I got the food.”

Rubbing his jaw, Thomas glanced back at Janus and Roman, their quick glances toward each other making Thomas’s breath catch. 

“Sure Pat, I’m coming…”

Sending one last glance back at the trio with an apologetic smile, Thomas turned and walked past Patton back into the kitchen where the steaming mugs of hot cocoa sat for Thomas to bring. Remus already had a platter of pristine Christmas cookies and a full ham and a turkey and- 

Eyes bugging out once again, Thomas’s eyes were locked onto Remus as he went down the hall with the entire contents of the oven carried in his 6 total hands. 

Patton, on the other hand, had only two side dishes in his hands as he passed Thomas. Nodding towards the steaming mugs, Patton stepped back towards the living room.

“Just grab the trays, everything’s lighter here than you would expect, so you won’t have to much to handle.”

Opening his mouth, Thomas’s words died on his lips once again as Patton disappeared around the corner, leaving Thomas to his duty of bringing the drinks.

Thankfully, just as Patton said, the trays were exponentially lighter than they looked with 3-4 mugs on each of them. So Thomas easily picked up and brough the mugs back down the hallway. 

But everything came to a sudden halt when Thomas stepped back into the living room.

He had to have been gone less than a minute, but the whole atmosphere in the living room had drastically shifted from a slight Christmas feel to full blown nostalgia Christmastime feeling. The tree had every inch covered in ornaments now, the fire was roaring somehow more than before and everyone was seated comfortably on the many couches that faced the TV with plates and utensils a plenty.

It took all Thomas’s effort not to drop both those dang platters as his feet almost instantaneously rooted him to the spot as his mouth dropped open at how fast everything had suddenly come together.

“Thomas- snrk- You okay there?” Virgil’s smug voice came from one of the furthest couches, Virgil sitting on the arm of the couch, but slowly sinking down towards the proper place.

Jolting, Thomas abruptly cleared his throat and nodded as his eyes continued to take in the living room, his voice not at all convincing.

“Uh, yes? Uh….no? I think… this is just… wow.”

Each of Sides looked to one another, a similar expression of wide open eyes at how awed Thomas sounded. They had done that. Only Janus managed not to look bothered, but by the way Remus rolled his eyes in Janus’s direction, there was more than meets the eye under the impassive half smile Janus had managed to pull off.

Soon, however, Thomas was stepping forward once again, not yet completely over the sight, but recovered enough that he could mostly properly function again.

Without a word, Thomas handed everyone a drink according to the cups, each of them the sides usual colors with an animal design/theme. 

The last one left on the tray for Thomas was a chaotic blend of all of them, cutesy animals and a rainbow design.

“Oh… I love that. It’s perfect.”

Patton, who was sitting comfortably with Logan on a couch, leaned over the arm of their couch and patted Roman’s arm as best he could on the other couch.

“See, I told you he’d love it.”

And with that, all of them dug in, the hum of conversation washing over Thomas as he got what he wanted from each of the platters.

It was like only an instant had passed when Roman finally bolted up, bouncin on his toes in all his excitement.

“Is everyone done? Because if we are, then it’s time for presents!”

Presents went by just as fast as each of the Sides revealed their presents for each other.

Logan was first with a scrapbook for Patton of all the memories from the preparations, each of them laughing and preparing the day as well as some sneakily hidden shots from the meal. He even took a picture of Patton’s completely awed look, instructing Patton to turn to the last page to see the very picture already in the book. 

It probably took five minutes for Patton to stop borderline choking Logan with a hug, and even more than that for Patton to stop crying happy tears into Logan’s Christmas sweater. 

Patton’s present was for Janus. 

Janus was leaning just slightly away from the present as he opened it, ready for something disappointing, perhaps. But instead a moment of pure joy flashed across Janus’s face as he opened it. Sure, his expression immediately hid that that moment had even existed, but every Side had watched him, so there was no hiding it.

Inside Janus’s present was everything a cold-blooded, snake themed side would want, a snake plushie and onesie as well as a heated and weighted blanket. 

Still, with Janus’s blatant slip, he still schooled his expression as he extracted each from the packaging.

Janus had Virgil.

Thomas and Logan had frowned at the small package Virgil had been handed by Janus, aas did Virgil himself. 

But Virgil was more curious than anything, as even though Janus was one to play tricks, this small package was small enough it was likely not to be one.

What nobody expected was the utter ear-piercing squeal that came from Virgil after a moment of gazing at his unwrapped present.

“How? You found an exclusive version of-”

“I know you love MCR, and found that, as luck would have it, in the recesses of Thomas’s mind. It helps to be a bit more experienced with all things not conscious. I-”

In a surprising move for everyone, Virgil cut Janus’s ramble short with a slamming hug.

There weren’t nearly as many tears as Patton’s reaction to his gift, but if there were a few tears that leaked into Janus’s sweater, Janus made no comment as Virgil finally pulled back, sheeks red as the reality of what he had just done sunk in.

Virgil had presents for both of the twins, a thing of slime that looked like sewage and other fun things for Remus and a set of copic markers for Roman.

Remus was immediate in unveiling his slime and beginning to play with it, but Roman was hesitant. 

“I have plenty of markers, virgil, not that I am ungrateful for them, but what led you to this as my gift.”

Virgil tensed just ever so slightly before pushing a piece of paper in front of Roman.

“Just try them, idiot.”

Roman once again huffed in annoyance.

“Alright, Panic at the Disco.”

Roman tried out each of the colors, but soon found the paper to be too small for testing them out, and eventually, the color ran over each other, but when they did, Roman completely froze.

In all Roman’s time, he had never had markers that actually blended when you layered them. And that’s when it clicked in Roman’s expression, eyes widening like everyone else’s had when they opened their presents.

This time, of all times, Roman instantly apologized, nearly giving the markers back as his increasingly reddening face sunk deeper into his sweater. It wasn’t until Logan announced his own present was next that Roman had the courage to emerge, still rosy cheeked, but less so.

To complete the circle of gifts, the twins had Logan’s present. And they took their time in handing to Logan, as if what was inside was fragile or important.

Logan treated the gift the same, taking great care in unwrapping the gift before staring down at the gift of a very important looking notebook.

Without having to be asked, both of the twins wove a tale of watching Logan struggle to create a good schedule for Thomas, even clashing with Roman himself. But Remus was the one who continued, talking about how he had garnered some information from the non-conscious part of Thomas’s brain on how to tap into it to cement an idea or plan.

The notebook, when written in, would cement whatever idea was in it into Thomas’s mind, bring it to the forefront without completely intruding. It was the perfect thing to help Thomas listen to Logan more.

Thomas should’ve been more outraged that Logan had to have something like this to even be listened to, but his own logic had always been overshadowed by feelings at times. It was the best thing he could do to go over to Logan and hug him when he saw the tension in Logan’s body and the refusal to meet Thomas’s eyes.

The instant Thomas wrapped his arms around Logan, his body stiffened even more before just as quickly completely melting into Thomas completely. Fingers running through Logan’s hair, Thomas whispered out quiet assurances.

“No, don’t you dare feel guilty about not being heard. You shouldn't have to be ‘tempted’ to make me listen ‘against my will.’ You are a part of me that I need to listen to, and I trust you enough to allow this greater power over me. If I didn’t want this, my creativity- creavtivities wouldn’t have made this for you.”

That was enough to stop the slight shivering as Logan pulled back with uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable eyes, wide and awe-filled.

“Really?” Logan’s voice was barely a breath.

“Really.” Thomas echoed, squeezing Logan gently before letting go and sitting back beside him.

Still keeping Logan in the corner of his eye, Thomas turned to Remus and Roman who were still in front of them with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“Now, each of you check your pockets now,” Both of them snapped in unison as Roman spoke. “You should find something new there.”

With varying levels of excitement and wariness each of them reached into their pockets to produce a jagged piece of something. When the twins were met with blank stare at the reason for these gifts, neither of them faltered.

“Each of you, gather around the coffee table and place your piece down, we have ours as well.”

Eyebrow raised, Thomas obliged, as did the rest of the Sides after. As each of them placed their piece on the table, the idea slowly came into shape, though as always it was Logan’s face to light up first in realization.

“Now each of you arrange your pieces the best you can to create a complete shape, there is only one way these pieces fit together, but we’ll let you figure it out.”

It only took a moment for each of their voices to vy to be heard, only Logan holding his tongue as he had likely already figured it out and a stern but gentle glare from Roman to not ruin it for everyone. Roman did pointedly glance at the notebook he and Remus had just given him, permission to slyly get back at Roman is however he saw fit in what he guided Thomas towards.

Surprisingly, it was Patton who first exclaimed the solution.

“Oh that’s so cute! It’s a star!”

Judging by the grumbles that arose from Janus, he might have been close to that solution himself, but was beaten to the punch by Patton’s exclamation.

“You got it! This our gift to all of you.”

In any case, after that the 7 of them arranged their pieces  so that the star design appeared. Thomas’s pink piece was at the top, with Virgi’s purple and Roman’s red sitting beside it. For now, the star was devoid of orange, but full of the rest of the sides neon yellows, lush greens and two distinct peaceful blues. 

The star was still a 5 pointed star, which made the piece placement a little more complicated, but eventually they were able to press the pieces together. When they did the star flashed brightly before suddenly zooming out of everyone’s grip and alighting on the tree.

Once the star was in its place, snow suddenly began to fall from the ceiling silently. Even Remus and Roman’s mouth fell open as the first flakes settled onto them.

Each of the Sides and Thomas gazed up at least once to try to find where they were coming from, but they just appeared a few inches from the ceiling and fell down to them. 

Even with the mystery, all of them slowly succumbed to the urge to enjoy the indoor snow. Whether it was trying to catch a flake with their tongue or immediately catching as much snow in one place to attempt a snowball, the formality of the gift giving was completely gone and replaced with the unbridle fun of playing in the snow.

“Wait… where… Where did that mistletoe come from? We never put that up.” Virgil pointed to a sprig of mistletoe above where Janus and Remus were gathering snow, Janus gathering most of it while Remus made balls of snow.

Both Janus and Remus looked up in unison, eyeing the sprig before looking at each other.

“I don’t care, come here Jani-bear. I want to get steamy enough that the snow starts melting.”

Even Thomas rolled his eyes at the pet name and the cheesy line, but couldn’t help fawning over Janus’s reaction.

Face turning bright red, it was Janus who took the initiative to pull Remus’s collar and kiss him. Responding in kind after a moment to recover, Remus responded by mouthing into the kiss just as passionately.

A gasp from behind Thomas had him turning to yet another sprig of mistletoe, this time above the four other sides, each of them turning red as they turned their face up to it. 

Surprisingly, Patton was the first to place a quick kiss on Logan’s lips, with Roman just behind him sweeping Virgil into a kiss of his own.

Thomas's chest filled with warmth as he watched his sides kiss each other, their love an extension of his own self love. The sensation filled him outwards from his chest up to his head and down to the tip of his toes.

It wasn’t until he was staggering, though, that it hit him that maybe the warmth wasn’t just love, that the blanket he didn’t exactly remember wrapping around himself was warming him up pleasantly as well.

Eyes dropping, Thomas made it to the couch, lying down to answer the call of his mind, the warm embrace of sleep ever stronger on him.

A familiar voice echoed softly in his head just at the cusp of sleep

“This is our present for you, Thomas, a pleasant dream by our sides enjoying Christmas together.”

The picture of his Sides’ concerned faces hovering over him faded as the pleasant feelings of the night carried him off into proper, joy filled dreams.

Thomas smiled, nuzzling into his pillow, asleep and content.

[jadekitty777]

On Your Six, Chapter 2

And thus we come to another day, another chapter.

Day 2: Stealing Hoodies for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 3k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Toes

~

Tai rolled in Sunday with a brisk breeze and a hint of last night’s rain following him. The awkward timidness he’d had, had evaporated quicker than the puddles outside, burned away into steely determination as he got right down to business. “Alright, so, how do you want me?”

Qrow nodded to his bed, the recliner having been pushed up alongside it. His kit was sitting on the nightstand. “Take off your shirt and lie down.”

“Gee, at least buy me dinner first.”

He supposed he walked right into that one.

“Hah. Let’s see if you have any jokes left after we pass the fourth hour.” He strode over to his chair, fetching a roll of paper towels on his way. “I told you we’d be at this for a while. Trust me, you’ll be glad to be in a more comfortable position.”

Qrow had calculated it. He’d have six sessions per letter. At eight to ten hours per session, he’d have a range of 48 to 60 hours per design. It seemed like a lot of time, but drawing on paper wasn’t quite the same as drawing on people. Paper didn’t need potty breaks, for example, and it tended to stay stationary the entire time. Add on to the fact this was easily the biggest project he’d ever undertaken, and he knew he was going to need every second he could get.

At least I won’t be enduring it alone, he thought as he watched Tai kick off his shoes and shirt and climb onto the bed. Qrow poured the alcohol onto one of the paper towels, and as he dabbed at the other’s skin, he noticed the face the other man was making. “Sorry, guess it’s a little strong.”

“It’s not that.” Tai said, rubbing his nose. “Uh, not to be your maid or anything but, you really need to wash your sheets.”

For a split second, Qrow was offended. Then the realization hit. “Oh. You’re smelling the ink.” He indicated the row of bottles organized in the case. The only one he’d need today, the black, was sitting next to his rotary machine. “I mix it with my own pheromones. It helps neutralize the stench.”

The omega reached for the little bottle, giving it a whiff. His eyebrows shot up and suddenly, he was staring at it like it held the meaning of life. “That’s… incredible. But won’t that give me away?”

“Not when your RO can’t smell her way out of a canteen.” They were all betas. Being the neutral dynamic meant there was no risk of ‘going soft’ on their parolee like an omega might, nor get over-protective like an alpha absolutely would. But it also meant that after Qrow finished relining the tattoos, the dramatic shift to Tai’s scent would be almost undetectable. “And if she does notice, just tell her you’re trying out a new perfume.”

“That smells like matchsticks and blueberries?”

“You’ll be fine. You’re good at improvising.”

As Tai eased himself back down, he finished sanitizing his back, then moved on to getting himself ready. He double-checked the machine, made sure the parts were in place and the wire running back to the outlet was untangled and slack. Taped the paper copy of the design over the edge of his nightstand and uncapped the ink bottle. “So, this is how this works.” Qrow said as he pulled on his gloves, “You need to be as still as possible. We’re gonna have a five-minute break every hour, give you a chance stretch and move around. We’ll stop a bit longer half way in or so to eat. But if you need me to stop for any other reason just let me know. And uh, fair warning – when I start tattooing over the letter itself, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Tai nodded. “Got it.”

“Okay.” He dipped the needle and turned on the pen, the quiet buzzing filling the room. “Here we go.”

The moment needle met skin, he felt muscle tense under his hand. Spotted the way Tai’s toes curled in his socks and his face screwed shut. Qrow continued on slowly as he looped one line from the top of the S and connected it to down the middle, then did it again from the bottom part of the S. By the time the S had turned into an 8, the omega had relaxed again, sighing softly. He took that as a sign to continue and started coloring in the new side.

Hour one passed in complete silence.

~

“So, how’s it looking?” Tai asked, swiveling his head around. If he tried any harder, he might become an owl.

Qrow watched him from the stove. “Most of the line art on the top is finished.” He turned on the burners for the kettle and pot of water. “Should be fine to get the rest done in a few hours.”

“I can’t believe how fast it’s going.”

“Yeah well, this is the easy part.” He opened the pantry, eyeing over the options. “Wait until we get to coloring. I have to switch between needles for shading and clean between them.”

There was a dragging noise as one of the dining room chairs was pulled back. “I’m sorry it’s so much work. We don’t have to do all that, if you don’t want.”

Qrow was grateful only his shelves could see his scowl. He breathed out slow, pulled down the pork-flavored ramen packets, saying casually as he went back to the stove, “I mean if you’re too scared to keep going…”

“I didn’t say that! I’m just trying to be nice.” Tai grumbled the last past.

I don’t need you to be nice to me! Frustration welled in him, but he forced it back down. Getting angry wasn’t going to help. Even if this extremely complacent, easily guilted Tai made him want to go out and burn down every Gods’ damned reformatory there was. “Forget about it. I’m too much of a perfectionist to half-ass my work anyways.” He tried to brush off. But now Tai had that kicked puppy look that told him he was feeling bad, which only made Qrow feel bad in turn, so he deflected instead, “I mean, unless it’s too much for you. You’ve been quiet. Is it hurting that bad?”

“Oh, no it’s fine. I, uh,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t want to distract you.”

“You won’t.” He cracked the bags in half twice, tearing open the pack. “And it helps pass the time.” He dropped the ramen noodlesinto the water that was just starting to bubble and got the mugs down for tea, absolutely refusing to look at the other lest he read all over his face just how much he missed talking to him.

“Well… besides illegal tattooing in the tiniest apartment known to man on the shady side of town, what else have you been up to?”

The kettle was picked up just as it began to whistle. Like the cups filling with water, Qrow opened his mouth and let the words flow out just as easy.

~

As evening approached, another storm blew in. Rain drops smattered against the window every time the wind picked up, drowning out the noise of his pen. Qrow had rearranged his furniture, putting the recliner and nightstand in opposite positions so he could work on the lower half of the design in the 8. His focus was completely on the coastline coming to life over tanned skin.

“Remember that time we snuck out your window so we could put all those plastic rats on Professor Port’s porch for April Fool’s Day?”

Well, maybe not completely.

Qrow snickered. They had camped out in the bushes until dawn, just so they could take the TA’s picture when he came out to get his morning paper. “His face was priceless.”

“Not sure the punishment was worth it though.” Tai bemoaned.

“It was only a week’s detention.”

“For you. I got three month’s grounding on top of it.”

He reinked his pen. “Which you immediately broke by coming to my house every day.”

Tai took the brief pause as a chance to scratch his nose. “I never would have got caught if dad didn’t go home early that one time.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. My ears are still ringing from that lecture.” He flipped back on the pen and continued working on the islands that would split the sea from the sky.

The omega cleared his throat, deepening his voice just enough it was an almost disturbingly perfect imitation of his father, “‘If you don’t want to land yourself into juvie, then you’ll stop leading my son into a life of delinquency.’”

Qrow grinned, continuing for him and really hamming it up, “’Don’t you know my delicate boy’s future depends on finding a proper and upstanding alpha?’”

“He didn’t say delicate.” But Tai was laughing with him.

“Might as well have.” It wouldn’t have been too off-base for the Xiao Longs. They’d always been the traditional, overbearing types, trying to jumpstart every little bit of their only son’s future in every possible avenue. When they’d been young, it always seemed like Tai was going to some lesson or appointment. Swimming. Woodworking. Jeet Kune Do. It had been so excessive it had given his own mother ideas – but at least she let Raven and him choose what they wanted to learn.

After looking through the primordial alpha courses, Raven had chosen fencing.

Qrow had wanted to go with her but there was nothing like that in the omega pamphlets he’d been given. In the end, he kicked his feet all the way to his first few art lessons.

His dad had been pretty ticked off they’d wasted the money when, a few years later, puberty had Qrow shooting up past six feet and presenting as an alpha.

But that was nothing compared to the nuclear war that went off when, just shortly after his fourteen birthday, the Xiao Longs discovered Tai was an omega. The lessons stopped and the strict rules started. No going out past seven o’ clock. No cursing. No dating. No kissing. No sex. And especially, no alphas in the house. Ever.

By the time Tai was fifteen, he’d already broken every single one of them.

Qrow, who hadn’t exactly been an angel himself, thought it was hilarious and maybe encouraged him a bit more than he should have. But honestly, what did anyone expect of either of them? After being caged in like a defenseless pup, he was finally allowed break free and be a little reckless. Meanwhile, Tai refused to be shoved into that same cage, smashing through the doors all on his own. They’d been quite a pair, back in the day.

Nostalgia hit him in a wave. “How are your folks doing these days?”

“They’re fine. Dad’s started a new garden. And Mom’s been talking about renovating the old cabin house we used to vacation at. Said it would be a good place for the girls to enjoy. I was gonna help but…” Tai trailed off, his eyes glazing over a bit. “They wrote to me a few times while I’d been…. yanno.”

Something bitter built in his chest. A long-forgotten fury that had weighed on him when his mother had likewise been ripped from their family to stay at a reformatory and the only comforts he’d got was from the Xiao Longs reassuring him she’d come back as a ‘better omega’. “I’m certain they were just bursting with encouragement and support.”

“Definitely isn’t winning any motivational speech awards.” He joked humorlessly.

There was a quiet lull. Qrow took it as a chance to re-ink and stretch out the crick stiffening his fingers.

As he lowered the needle once more, Tai spoke up, hesitant. “What about you? Heard from your family at all?”

He frowned, knowing there was only one of those two people he actually cared to hear about. He indulged him regardless. “Well, you know my old man. Probably still doesn’t even know I’m gone.” He tapped his pen down, drawing the m-shapes that were meant to be a couple of gulls flying away in the sky. “As for Raven, haven’t seen her for years. Not sure she could find me.” When he paused to survey his work, he couldn’t help but think that the shapes really could have been any birds. “Even if she could, doubt she’d want to.”

The kicked puppy look was back. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Qrow lied, as if the last argument he and Raven ever had wasn’t entirely about Taiyang. But he didn’t need to know about that.

~

“You left? Raven you can’t leave!”

“Don’t growl at me. And anyways, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is Tai’s your mate. You guys have a daughter!”

“And that means I’m bound to him for life? We made a mistake! We were dumb kids. It happens.”

“So you just pack up your shit and tell him ‘good fucking luck’? He loves you! How can you act like that doesn’t matter?”

“…”

“Well?!”

“Really, little brother?”

“Wh-”

“If you want to go and play house with him, be my guest. But don’t project your feelings onto me. This is my life. My choice.”

“…Yeah. Yeah, I guess throwing people out of your life is a fucking choice. Just don’t be surprised when you get the same in return.”

“Are you seriously-”

“Get out. And until you get your head out of your ass, don’t bother coming back!”

~

Qrow taped down the bandage over Tai’s back, the antibiotic cream he’d spread along the new tattoo squishing against the adhesive. He ran through the aftercare steps almost subconsciously. “Keep this on until you go to bed. When you do take it off, wash it with warm water and soap. Do that a few times a day tomorrow and the next day too. If anything seems wrong, just call me.”

“Got it.” Tai reached for his shirt. At least he’d had the foresight to bring a button up. As he pulled it on, he gave Qrow a crooked little smile that made him look adorably boyish. “Same time next week then?”

“Uh, yeah.” He slipped off the bed, making a great show of looking for the other’s shoes. His cheeks felt a little less hot by the time he was returning to the bedside with them. “We’ll have to work on the U next. I’ll keep sending you designs, but a little direction would help.”

Tai slipped into his shoes, getting to his feet. “I don’t really have the eye for this kind of stuff. Just pick something easy.”

“Feel like I’m having a case of déjà vu here.” Qrow huffed, tapping a finger to the center of Tai’s chest. “This is your body Tai, not mine. So could you please put just a mite bit more effort into something you’re gonna have to wear the rest of your life?”

The other’s eyes widened before he looked away. He made an aborted motion towards his neck, fell short, and worried the corner edge of his collar between his fingers. “Could you do words?”

“Yeah.” He replied haltingly, taken aback by the sudden shift. “I’ll probably want to craft stencils to keep the script nice though – and no, it’s not hard.”

Tai nodded, another one of those not-quite smiles on his face. “Then I think I do know what I want for this one. I’ll send you some pictures later tonight.”

“Well… good! See was that so hard?”

“Immensely.” He answered, laying it on thick as honey.

Qrow jabbed him in the shoulder. “Don’t oversell it prima donna. You should start heading home, unless you’re planning on doing a rendition of Singing in the Rain out there.”

Tai spared a look to the window. “It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?” The sky had darkened with the setting sun, making the already heavy clouds appear thick and ominous. Rain battered against his window at a continuous rate. The minute the omega left the complex, he was going to be soaked. “Think this’ll be okay?” He waved vaguely to his left shoulder where the tattoo began on the other side of.

“Mm, probably. But I guess a little extra cover wouldn’t hurt.” He crossed over to his little box of a closet, rummaging through the sparse selection. “This’ll work. It’s a bit oversized for me, so it should be perfect for you. Here.”

He snapped the black hoodie off its hanger, tossing it. Tai caught it. “You’re sure?”

“What are you gonna do to it? Dye it pink?”

“Well now that’s a thought. It’d match your eyes.”

“My eyes aren’t pink!”

Tai’s laughter was muffled in fabric as he gingerly slipped the hoodie on, being as mindful as possible of his back. By the time his head popped back out, his hair was all mussed up.

It was unfairly cute and Qrow tried very hard not to think about it as he walked him to the door.

Tai stepped into the hall, then paused, turning back to him. He reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey uh, thank you. For all this. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Qrow was pretty sure the touch was electric, because he was suddenly paralyzed. How he even got his jaw to work was a miracle in and of itself. “Don’t mention it.”

The omega hesitated, as if he wanted to argue, but only said, “Sure. I’ll see you soon Qrow.”

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but it was long after Tai had left the hall that he finally found the strength to close the door, slumping against the wood with a pitiful groan.

He thought he was over this. He should be over this. He wasn’t a lovesick teen anymore and this wasn’t a romantic comedy where after a bunch of wild, misleading antics, everything came together in the end. He’d lost his chance – twice over apparently. It was useless to try now.

So why did his stupid, pathetic heart still yearn?

“Come on Qrow.” He knocked his head against the door, hoping to rattle some sense into himself. “You did this for six years. You can do it again for six months.”

As he trod his way back to his bed, falling into it only to realize it smelt like Tai and would continue to every Sunday for weeks, he burrowed his head in his pillow and screamed.

Six was becoming a very unlucky number for him.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Pumpkin Duck

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: How about Katniss taking Peeta to the forest during the fall for the first time to see all of the fall colors. [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: K

Author’s note: Special thanks to @jroseley​ for beta-ing. :)

____________ 

“You smell like a snickerdoodle Sweetheart?”

Katniss slammed the door of Haymitch’s man cave and sat down. She narrowed her eyes at her mentor. She was beginning to hate anything fall flavored related, including cinnamon.  Most of all she grew a distinct dislike of pumpkin.

“Peeta’s still baking up a storm.”

“He claims he’s experimenting with recipes for the bakery,” she huffed. “But the thing is he’s making stuff that isn’t sold at the bakery.”

Haymitch handed her a beer. “So what has the boy done that has you spittin nails?”

She twisted the bottle cap angrily. “This morning he said he was going to create a pumpkin flavored  macaroni and cheese. Macaroni and cheese shouldn’t be pumpkin flavored. For that matter pumpkins don’t have a flavor like tomatoes, apples, or broccoli.”

Haymitch lifted an eyebrow. “Broccoli?”

“Yes broccoli,” Katniss said, putting the bottle down.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my house, I have orange coming out of my ears. I found Effie changing out my tidy-whities for oranges ones with squirrels sitting on piles of leaves. It’s not even fall yet.” 

Katniss hung her head. “Why don’t we make a run for it?”

Haymitch chuckled, “Effie’s got a tracker in me she’ll find me.”

Katniss laughed. Effie always seemed to show up wherever Haymitch hid.

“Fall’s like a week away Haymitch but he’s been driving me bananas.” Peeta yesterday dragged out his wok to make fried rice with pumpkins. She shuttered.  “How do you do it?”

“We find them appealing, they put up with our crap.” 

Katniss grimaced.

“No you don’t have the right to make that face. You and I both know Effie puts up with my geese and the boy puts up with muddy footprints all over the floor. Besides we are nuts about them.”

Her shoulders drooped, she did love Peeta. “He is cute when he wakes up in the morning  with his wavy hair all askew.”  

Haymitch grinned, he handed her half of his ham and cheese sandwich.

Having the normal food calmed her down.  “He says he wants to be ready for fall.”

“Why don’t you do something for him?”

“Like what?”

“You like the woods right?”

Katniss frowned she wasn’t following. “Yeah.”

“His favorite time of year is the fall, and next week the fall starts.” 

“Oh take him to the woods so he can see the real deal.” She had taken Peeta to the lake during the summer but never when the leaves were changing. Finishing up the sandwich she bounded out of the door. “Thanks Haymitch.”

“Don’t mention it,” Haymitch muttered. 

Katniss walked by Effie who today was dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit with a hat that looked like a pile of leaves. She shook her head but managed a smile at her former escort. “Hi Effie.”

“Oh, hello Katniss, is Haymitch still cooped up in there?”

“Sure is, the game’s nearly finished,” Katniss paused and then turned to her former Escort. Haymitch needed a break and she needed help. “Effie how quickly do you think I can get camping equipment?”

“Why?” Effie turned around. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well Haymitch gave me a great idea. I know how much Peeta loves the fall, so I thought I would take him camping up in the mountains. The leaves change colors in the mountains quicker because it’s cooler.”

“OH,” Effie gasped. Her lashes with miniature fall leaves batted quickly as her eyes became brighter. “What a darling idea? What exactly do you need?”

“Well,” Katniss said, linking her arm with Effie. “First off I need camping clothing, and I need a large enough tent.”

“Ooohhh, I know some people who can help.”

Katniss grinned. “I also need this to be a surprise. You know I cannot lie to Peeta.” Now if she could only survive the couple of days of pumpkin wreaking havoc in her life.

“That is the utter truth.” Effie said. 

The next day when Peeta returned to the bakery Katniss and Effie got to work. Katniss  had to make sure the path was still there. Around here the leaves were still green, but high up in the mountains the air was colder and the leaves changed color quicker.

Her father had taken her there once. She was a small child but she’d been past the trail a dozen times when she hunted in the woods with Gale but she’d never explored. After the war when Peeta came back she took a walk. She discovered the trail and everyday she cleared it little by little until she made it to the peak of the mountain. It took three days and Peeta was scared out of his mind when she came back. He kissed her hard, yelled at her, and kissed her again. Her toes curled in her old boots at the memory of that passionate kiss.

“Look Effie,” Katniss shouted excited to find the trail. When she found the trail she was overjoyed. 

“Oh dear this will not do,” Effie tsked. “We need someone to make a clear path, Peeta will not be able to get through there easily. I know who to call.” 

Katniss wasn’t sure about the gleam in Effie’s eyes. But true enough within a day Effie had Thom and a crew working around the clock to clear a path up to the mountain that would be even enough for Peeta to make his way up the mountain. 

A few days later she was in the mudroom looking bewildered at all of the packages Effe had brought over. There were boxes dozens of them of every size and shape. Katniss wasn’t sure how she was going to keep this from Peeta. He knew she was frugal and she just didn’t buy anything. 

“Katniss,” Peeta said, popping his head in her mudroom.

Katniss looked up, surprised that Peeta had come home early.

“What is all of this?”

“Nothing,” Katniss said, hiding the orange plaid shirt behind her back. Horrified she watched Peeta pick up a box.  

“Looks like Effie is trying to hide purchases from Haymitch.”

Katniss glanced down at the nearest box and indeed Effie’s name was on the shipping label of the boxes. “Erm…yeah,” Katniss nodded, she fought to keep her embarrassment from showing up on her face. “What are you doing home so early?”

“Well I wanted to make some ravioli, for dinner.”

Katniss eyes lit up at the thought of the fluffy pasta filled with oozing cheese or ground meat.”

“Yeah I got an idea for pumpkin flavored raviolis. I got the ingredients at the grocers,” he began walking away. “..they had these beautiful pumpkins.”

Her smile turned into a frown. “Great more freaking pumpkins,” she muttered under her breath.

The day before the great adventure Katniss sat outside with Haymitch.

“Effie is…” Katniss said to Haymitch a few days before.

“Determined?”

“Like a general in the rebellion,” Katniss said leaning up against the porch watching Peeta and Effie talk about the upcoming fall festival.

“You all set for tomorrow?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said about Effie?”

“I’m not talking about the trek, I’m talking about the…”

Katniss looked away…she looked at her beer. She drank it savoring the brew. “Yeah.”

“You, ready for this?” Haymitch leveled a look at her.

Katniss glanced toward Peeta, “I love him, even with his pumpkin obsession.”

“Good, that’s all that matters.”  

The next morning all went awry. A huge storm pulled into the  mountains and a deluge flooded the roads. They were stuck inside. Katniss sat by the window looking at the rain fall. 

“Katniss what's wrong?”

Katniss turned around biting her bottom lip. She wanted to cry but instead she squared her shoulders. “Today is the first day of fall but.”

“Yeah I know it’s the autumnal equinox.”

Jutting her chin out with determination she said, “We’re making fall.” 

“What?”

Determined, she went to his art supplies and said, “We’re making the fall indoors.”

“Kat?” 

“Get your paint box Peeta,” Katniss said, marching upstairs to an empty room. They were going to have to do this backwards. 

Peeta had his paints. “Okay are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“We’re going to make a mural Peeta. Big beautiful trees, one for each season.”

“Okay,” he looked around.

The words tumbled out of her lips,  “I had this entire weekend planned we were going to go up into the mountains.  We were going to eat fresh game and wonder at the colors of the fall. Then I was going to give you this.” Katniss took a small envelope and pressed it into his hands. 

Peeta frowned. He opened the envelope and took out the card. She watched his lips move as he read what she’d written. Katniss delighted in watching the way Peeta’s eyes lit up bigger than the bonfire she planned cooking their meals on. “You wanna try?”

Katniss nodded. 

“Real or not real, you wanna try to have a baby with me?”

“Real,” she whispered.

“Real,” Peeta uttered. Tears fell down his face.

“Yes,” Katniss pointed toward the room. “Wouldn’t this room make an amazing nursery?”

Peeta grasped her by the middle and swung her around. Katniss laughed. He put her down and then said, as he gathered his painting gear.  “I’m going to make us something special,  butternut squash soup, oh and some pumpkin bread…to go with pumpkin spiced duck.” 

Katniss scowled; she loved Peeta but she still hated the pumpkin. 

[shining-red-diamond]

Shallow Waters (Part V)

Words: 1.7k

Pairing: Hendery x Brittany (OC) (feat. WayV and Louis)

Rating: PG-15

Genre: fluff, some angst

Warnings: mentions of sex and mating, blood, mentions of abandonment and infidelity

Brittany’s lunch consisted of ham, broccoli, and mac & cheese, while Hendery chowed down on some raw salmon. He hated that he wouldn’t be able to try the foods that she or other humans enjoyed, but he was grateful she was willing to find him a variety of different fish. That way, he didn’t feel as if he was eating the same thing over and over again. The drinks, however, didn’t affect him, yet he preferred to drink just water.

The weather cleared up by the time the couple had finished their meals. While still cloudy, the rain and thunder had come to a halt. Hendery glanced out the window and watched the ocean as Brittany cleaned the dishes.

He then thought about his siren friends. It had been almost two months since he last saw them, and he figured they had to have been finished with helping the other sea creatures. What better opportunity for Brittany to meet the sirens?

Turning to Brittany, he asked her, “Would Brittany like to meet Hendery’s friends?”

She paused midway through loading the dishwasher when he spoke. There was a moment of silence before she answered, “Oh, the sirens?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, I would,” she smiled as she closed the dishwasher and started it. “When?”

“Would Brittany like to go now? The storm has stopped.”

She glanced out the window to see he was right. The clouds still looked heavy as if the bottom might fall out again, but if they were only gone for a few minutes they should be fine.

“Alright,” she nodded. “I’ll go change.”

Knowing they might have to swim again, Brittany went back to her room and slipped on her blue bikini before putting on a loose cover up. Hendery was in awe of her when she returned to the kitchen.

“Let’s go quickly before it rains again,” she said as she grabbed the merman’s hand, almost ignoring his admirations of her.

When they reached the beach, Hendery transformed into his merman form. He led her out in the same direction of where they first hung out about two months earlier; but instead of stopping there, they swam a little further until there was what Brittany could describe as an oasis. Palm trees as tall as a two story building produced coconuts, golden sand surrounded the sapphire-colored lagoon, and various birds inhabited the surrounding trees. A few stray cats and dogs drank from the water, but they never bothered the couple.

“Wait here,” Hendery instructed his lover before swimming off into the ocean.

Brittany sat down on the beach and patiently waited. Looking around, she spotted a shaded area by the lagoon and decided to wait under there. The moment she sat down a soft mew came from her left. When she took a glance, the sound had come from a Siamese cat sniffing at her wrist before licking her right on her dove tattoo. The cat then stared up at her with large blue eyes and sat down.

“Where did you come from, little buddy?” Brittany giggled. “You don’t seem to have a tag on you.”

Holding her hand out with her palm facing up, the cat sniffed her hand again and nuzzled its face in it. She scratched his head and smiled. The cat purred as he (she checked) brushed against her hip before resting his head on her stomach.

“Am I warm?” Brittany asked as she pet his back.

For a few minutes, she bonded with the cat, petting his head as he purred happily. She even named him Louis, despite him not being her pet.

“Brittany!” Hendery’s voice called to her, followed by a few splashes.

His head emerged, followed by his body and tail crawling up on the beach. He looks so gorgeous soaking wet from the ocean, Brittany thought as he adjusted himself in a comfortable sitting position.

The cat didn’t mind being carried in Brittany’s arms as she walked over to where her merman was sitting. When she sat down, the feline leaped out and scurried over to Hendery’s tail.

“Did Brittany make a new friend?” Hender chuckled as the cat tried playing his scales.

“He just came up to me as if he had known me for a long time,” she explained. “He’s a very social kitty.”

Hendery pet the furry friend for a second before he told Brittany to look out towards the ocean. “The sirens are about to appear.”

Sure enough, six heads popped up and moved closer towards the couple. Frightened by the sudden movements, the cat jumped and ran off.

“Funny creatures,” the merman commented before turning his attention back to the six sirens, who were now seemingly wading in the water.

“Hello, Brittany,” a siren with round eyes and a broad nose greeted with a friendly smile. “Hendery has told us great things about you. I’m Kun.”

All of them were well built with toned abs and strong biceps, but in a way that was pleasing to the eye and not so much body builder. It was more of them gaining strength and being fit from doing whatever it is they do. They each had a distinct tattoo somewhere on their arms, neck, or torso. Kun had a fatherly presence as he seemed to be the leader figure of the group and sported a mark shaped in a sort of sun with rays on his shoulder.

“Sirens who are opposite of the myth,” the tallest one with a deep voice jokes.

“I’m aware,” Brittany nods. “What’s your name?”

“Lucas.”

One by one, the sirens introduced themselves to Hendery’s lover. Lucas’s skin was more tan than the others, and he had a sort of flower tattoo on his left side. Xiaojun was well-mannered with sharp eyes and a mark of a starfish shape on his hip. The second tallest, WinWin, had a unique ears shape where one was more pointed than the other and a softer jawline with some sort of mended heart shape etched the center of her sternum. A feline faced siren of the bunch called himself Ten and sported an intricate tattoo on his right forearm; and the smallest siren YangYang was the youngest and had a more boyish aura about him while his tattoo was displayed over where his heart would be.

“Hendery has told me how you took him in,” said Brittany as she sat up a little straighter.

“We were all very young,” Ten explained. “YangYang was almost one and Kun was five. When we were all swimming around the Gulf of Mexico one day, we saw a tiny, two year old merboy so weak and crying.”

“So, you raised him when you guys were basically children?”

“Sirens’ brains age differently from humans and merfolk,” WinWin added. “However, we still lived with another mermaid who cared for us until Kun was fourteen.”

“Once Hendery turned eighteen, he ventured off around the world,” the merman finished. “He settled in Florida, because his friends lived there.”

“And that’s where he found you, Brittany,” Kun finished.

The sirens continued telling their stories about adventures with Hendery and updating their friend on what they were doing in the ocean. Each of them were extremely kind and didn’t hesitate to help others in need, even going to war to protect a race of sea nymphs in the Mediterranean. Yet, whenever Brittany asked what makes Hendery different from the other merfolk, they just gave her the same answer her lover did: sharp teeth with an appetite for only raw fish.

“I mean, who were his parents?” she asks.

“Well, we know for a fact his father is the king of a mermaid city off this coast,” Ten answered. “We found that out about a year after we took him in. The king was infamous for sleeping with other creatures before he crowned a mermaid his queen. So far, Hendery was the only result of his affairs. We’re not quite sure who his mother was.”

Brittany examined Hendery as he chomped on a flounder YangYang had caught for him, fish blood trickling down a little bit.

“He could be only half-merfolk,” she concluded.

“That’s what we have thought as well,” Kun agreed. “But we never brought it up as to not make him feel that he wasn’t worth anything by being different.”

“He is different” -she looked at her lover once more- “but special.”

His cheeks blushed as he wiped his mouth.

Louis returned to the small gathering, and he immediately wanted some of Hendery’s snack. The merman happily tore off a piece and fed it to him.

“So, are you guys mates yet?” YangYang asked as he tried to reach out and pet the cat.

Brittany was confused. “In what sense?”

Kun thumped the youngests forehead. “You can’t just ask couples stuff like that.”

“Sorry,” the youngest yelped. “I just noticed she doesn’t have a mark yet, and I was curious.”

“Brittany and Hendery are lovers,” Lucas added. “There’s a difference.”

His comment is what switched on the lightbulb in Brittany’s brain.

“Wait, mates?” she repeated. “As in, have we...done the deed? And what’s a mark have to do with anything?”

Kun explained everything to Brittany. For merfolk, the mate’s mark was given to females in the space between the neck and the shoulder, and the male would have an imprint of the wound in the exact spot on his skin. In a sense, it was like a marriage ritual between the two beings who truly loved each other.

“But as you have guessed,” the eldest siren finished, “it’s done during intimacy.”

Brittany nodded. Hendery held her hand and kissed it. He knew sooner or later they would have to follow through with the ritual, but he respected his lover enough to go forward with it if she was ready.

“I apologize if I said anything out of turn,” YangYang piped up. “I say things without thinking sometimes.”

“You’re fine,” she reassured him.

WinWin glanced behind him towards another end of the beach. “We have to go,” he informed.

Kun nodded. “We’ll hang out again, soon,” he promised. “YangYang put the cat down.”

WIth a finish trick splash, the six sirens swam off to whatever task they had been called to do, and Louis shook himself dry.

-

Tags: @fantasywayv​ @ezralia-writes​ @dearyongs​ @strawberryguema​ @daybreakx​ @neocitybyday​ @jaekissd​ @not-majestic-bluenicorn​ @queen-of-himbos​ @lilhwahwa​ @philosopher-of-fandoms​ @the32ndbeat​ @dreamystuffers​

[imaginepirates]

New York

Another modern au, but this time, the whole crew shows up.....and they show up in New York, a hub of modern technology and culture. Aided by your friend, you help them acclimate to life in modern times. As if that wasn’t enough, the crew tries to set you up with James, who is, admittedly, one of your fictional crushes. For @shadowsingeraxolotl

@emdrabbles​ @tesserphantom @paljonkaikenlaista @viper-official @wordsinwinters​ @groovyfluxie

~3350 words

~~~~~~~

          New York was a hub of activity, people flitting about from place to place in the early evening light. The diversity between people was staggering; hipsters walked on their way between stores, the well-dressed made their way to music halls and theaters, tourists took pictures of everything in sight, and tired-looking students drank their weight in coffee at each Starbucks.

          You, however, were just going home. You’d spent the day on Manhattan’s waterfront, and you looked forward to coming back to tour the middle of the city later. You lived in Brooklyn, and spent some of your free time exploring the various sections of NYC. No matter how long a person lived in New York City, there was always more to see.  

          You passed a small group of people who looked to be dressed in costumes. They looked like they’d come straight out of a history book. Each of them were staring up and around at the surrounding skyscrapers with wide eyes, and you wondered if it was part of the act. One noticed your curiosity and beckoned you over.

          “Could you tell us where we are, love?” He asked. Dreadlocks hung to his shoulders, and he had on a costume like a pirate. In fact, he quite looked like Johnny Depp, and you wondered if there was a production of Pirates of the Caribbean going on nearby.

          Wouldn’t have missed that for the world, you thought. How did I not see any advertising? “Why, you’re in New York.” You played along, though you felt a bit shy around the strangers.

          “New York?” Another man sputtered. He stood just behind you, and you turned to see a man in naval uniform.

          You smiled to yourself. The stricken expression on the man’s face was quite convincing. A good actor, I bet. Then you looked him over again, and you were sure all the color drained from your face, because he was the spitting image of James Norrington. Did I eat something, or am I just dreaming?

          “Wonderful.” This came from a girl standing next to you, and you turned to see a girl who looked exactly like Elizabeth Swann. She was staring with wonder up at all the big buildings, eyes shining.

          And Elizabeth would like it, too. There was another, and you knew before looking that it was going to be Will Turner. He looked awkward, looking around with clear anxiety in his eyes.

          You swallowed. “You must be lost.” You could feel your own anxiety skyrocketing. This is insane. I’m insane. This can’t be real. Instead of saying any of that, though, you said, “Do you need a place to stay?”

          “That would be wonderful, love.” As calm as he was trying to sound, there was some tension in Jack’s voice. You couldn’t blame him.

          “We can get an Uber. Or two. Or….” It might just be best if I called a friend. No driver could take five people in the small cars Uber drivers usually had, and they certainly wouldn’t fit in a taxi. “I’ll just call a friend.”

          It felt odd, standing there, in the middle of the street, with a bunch of strangers dressed in eighteenth century garb, waiting for your friend to show up. They had a van, and you could count on it to fit everyone.

          You had to wait a long time. Traffic in Manhattan was something else; the crush of cabs, busses, and cars made driving through the area a nightmare. You tried quietly convincing your new companions not to stare at things. The statement went both ways. You wanted to gape at the little group, but you knew it was rude. Still, they literally came right out of a story. I think that warrants for staring a little.

          In your peripheral vision, you could just see Norrington’s coat sleeve. Norrington. A man that you’d had a crush on since you’d first watched the series. You could feel yourself fidgeting in embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to retreat to the safety of home. Then it struck you: I’m going to have all these people in my house. The one place where I can retreat from people. You sighed. This’ll resolve itself. It has to. Right?

          Finally, your friend arrived. They pulled up to the curb, the window to the driver’s side rolling down. “You owe me, fam.” Your friend called out. “What was so import—oh.” They stared at the little gathering.

          You ushered the group into the van, instructing them on how to properly use seatbelts. You hopped in the passenger’s seat, looking over to your friend with what you knew were dazed eyes. “Yeah,” you said. “I owe you.”

          There was a collective gasp as the van drove off. You could hear dull thuds from where the characters had thrown out their hands. Elizabeth, at least, was smiling. You could see her in the rearview mirror, her face pressed up against the van’s tinted windows, fingers splayed against the glass. Clearly, she was enraptured. James, on the other hand, had drained of color. You felt badly for him. This definitely wasn’t what he’d signed up for upon entering the Navy.

          You pulled into the parking lot of your apartment, ushering everyone inside. The less people saw of your visitors, the better. You had them gather in your small living room while you pulled your friend aside into the bathroom.

          “I just found them on the street,” you explained. “And you can see them too, which means I’m not insane.”

          “Yeah….Still not sure what we should do with them. Should we turn them in to the police or something?”

          Somehow, the thought didn’t seem right. “The police will probably try to put them in a psych ward.”

          “You might be right on that one.” Your friend sighed. “I don’t know where you plan to keep them. This isn’t the roomiest of places.”

          “It’ll have to do.” You shrugged. “And thanks. For helping me out. For going along with all this.”

          They smiled. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

          You stepped back out into the living room to see four expectant faces staring back at you. You had to explain a lot to them, and the task was daunting. You didn’t even know where to start. “I’m guessing that you’re all a little confused,” you began.

          “That’s an understatement, mate.” Jack picked his way across the room, looking at your furniture, electronics, and decorations. He poked and prodded at a few things, making the ridiculous facial expressions he was famous for.

          “As I told you earlier,” you continued, “you’re in New York City.”

          “This certainly isn’t how I remember the Colonies.” Norrington looked around the small room, a frown in place.

          “And I’ve seen some strange things, love, but this can’t be New York,” Jack added.

          “Well….you also happen to be….” Even the thought of it sounded ridiculous. Welcome to the twenty-first century! Here are three hundred years worth of war, politics, culture, and technology to catch up on! “You’re also a couple hundred years in the future.” You watched worriedly for their response, but all you got were four sets of eyes.

          “A couple?” Norrington was white as a sheet.

          “Three, I think.”

          “Three.”

          You all stared at each other, including your friend, who looked around the room with concern. It was at this moment that Will flipped the lightswitch, causing everything to go dark. There were exclamations from the four pirates. Pirates. Probably shouldn’t bring that up. For all I know, Jack is still the only true pirate here, and the rest hadn’t fallen in yet before they got here. Suddenly, Will flipped the switch again, and your eyes had to adjust back to the light. The panic subsided—for the moment.

          “Electricity,” you explained. “We don’t use candles anymore.”

          “Convenient.” This came from Will, who was squinting at a lightbulb.

          “Yeah. Might not want to stare at that, though.” Will nodded at your suggestion, but kept glancing back at it as if it would suddenly change.

          At some point, Norrington must have regained his composure, despite the slight pinch he gave the bridge of his nose. You expected that it was a common gesture for him, what with his line of work. “You must be overwhelmed, having us here. You’ve been very kind to take us in. If you can think of anything you might need help with, we’d be happy to help you.” He gave a sharp look to each of his companions and an awkward smile to you.

          You nodded, indeed feeling quite overwhelmed. The realization that you’d have to keep them in your apartment and feed them did nothing to help. You eventually figured out sleeping arrangements, though you felt badly about the lack of space. Elizabeth would share your bed with you, and the boys would take the living room. Your friend left to find suitable clothes for everyone, and you thanked them profusely.

          You woke up early the next morning, full of stress. You padded softly through the living room into the kitchen, trying not to wake anybody, looking for food to make everyone. James stirred as you passed him. He was laying on the couch, though it was too small for him, and his feet were dangling over the edge. He shifted, yawning a little and stretching out. He’d doffed his wig and hat, leaving his hair to poke out at all angles. You found it adorable. He looked up at you with tired eyes, and you looked back with what you knew was equally messy hair.

          “Morning,” you whispered.

          “Good morning.” He gave you a small, soft smile and stood up from the couch. “Can I help you with anything?”

          “Do you know how to make crepes?”

          “Unfortunately not.” He looked a little awkward, but it was clear he wanted to help.

          “You can help me fill them.” You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, and he followed you into the kitchen.

          It was strange, to have company in a kitchen that usually only held you. It was nice, too. James was a welcome presence, spreading jams, peanut butter, and nutella across the crepes you made. You gave him some ham to add to them, too, in case someone preferred a savory option. Crepes could, in your opinion, get overly sweet.

          You caught a smile on James’ face. “This reminds me of times gone by,” he admitted. “When I was a child in England. I used to watch the women in the kitchens preparing food. They’d give me small tasks to do, sometimes. It was,” you watched him search for the right word, “nice. It still is.” He looked over at you, a little blush tinting his cheeks. You felt yourself blushing right back, though you couldn’t say the feeling was unpleasant.

          Breakfast was eaten with gusto, and though you’d feared it might be awkwardly silent, the group had a never-ending string of questions. Elizabeth voiced her desire to explore, and you figured it couldn’t hurt to take them back to Manhattan. The world had seen stranger things than supposedly enraptured tourists.

          Your friend stopped by with clothes and volunteered to go with you so they could drive you in their van. You were more than thankful for it. You let the group change, smiling to see modern styles on them. Elizabeth was a sight in particular, wearing a lovely little floral dress. The boys looked at her with varying degrees of embarrassment. They weren’t used to seeing ankles, much less knees.

          You changed into your own clothes. You almost found yourself looking forward to playing tour-guide. I planned on going back to Manhattan anyway, so why not with some others? You knew it would tire you out a little, but you were growing more and more excited to properly get to know the group. They were some of your favorite characters, after all. This is like a child’s Disneyland dream come true.

          The first place you stopped was, of course, Times Square. You wanted the group to see the extent of today’s technology, the overwhelming lights blaring at you from a thousand different screens. There would be a crush of people, as usual, and the towering buildings always made you feel small. You could only wonder at how your group would feel, so new to all these sights and sounds, and so far from home.

          Your friend found a parking spot a couple blocks away, and you all slid out of the car onto the concrete. You noticed how Will immediately took Elizabeth’s hand, and how even Jack walked alongside your friend.

          “That leaves you with our host, Commodore,” Jack called, clearly amused.

          You could see that James was embarrassed, but he offered you his arm all the same. “Shall we?”

          Equally embarrassed, you accepted. The two of you strolled arm in arm behind your friend as they led the group into the square. James stopped when you entered, looking up at the ads plastered across screens and billboards, and at the skyscrapers encased in glass. You found the wonder on his face to be enchanting.

          “Technology really has progressed,” he managed to stutter.           “More than you could ever know.” You looked out at the bright screens promoting movies, musicals, and all different sorts of companies. We changed so drastically in such a short amount of time.

          The rest of the group had stopped as well, staring with the same awe and reverence as James.

          “I’d been to New York, once,” said James. “We had to stop in for supplies on the Dauntless. It was large then, but now…. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so small.” Color dotted his cheeks.

          Ah. He’s a man used to being comfortable in any situation, to being in control. You smiled to yourself. Though maybe not social situations. “It’s nothing like the past,” you agreed. “Though not everywhere is like this. Just big cities.”

          “Is London like this?” Elizabeth asked excitedly.

          “Very. But all the older architecture has been kept around, so there’s a massive difference in styles.”

          “Speaking of styles, we have a cathedral here from the nineteenth century. It might be cool to check that out.”

          The group agreed. It was a neat spot, surrounded by skyscrapers, strictly contrasting the modern styles. As you walked back to the car, you passed a group of teenagers. One girl looked up at you and James, smiling. “You’re a cute couple,” she said as she passed by.

          You and James both blushed, and you opened your mouths to protest that you were not, in fact, a couple, but she was gone before you could get a word out. Too embarrassed to look each other in the eye, you stared at the ground. When you looked up again, you could see the smirking faces of the rest of the group, your friend among them. Even Will was giving you a little smile.

          When you got to the car, Jack hopped in the passenger’s seat as your friend drove. That left you to squish in next to James, and you could tell by the look on Jack’s face that he’d meant for it to happen. Your friend turned the radio on, saving you from having to make awkward conversation. James was pressed right next to you, his thigh and arm against yours, and you fiddled with the bottoms of your sleeves to keep your mind preoccupied. Not that it works. James, too, was using a similar tactic, though you could tell he was acutely aware of your proximity.

          Finally, you found a place to park near the cathedral, and you slipped out of the car, thankful to be out of an awkward situation, but missing the warmth of James’ body against yours.

          St. Patrick’s Cathedral looked short compared to its neighboring buildings, though you still had to crane your neck up to see the top of the spires. It was heavily decorated in the Neo-Gothic style, and you were sure that most of your group had seen the like before. The Gothic style had been around for centuries, and though the Neo-Gothic style had some of its own features, the two were very much alike.

          You toured the cathedral in pairs, walking silently through the echoing nave. “I’ve never been much one for religion,” whispered Jack, “but these churches do command a certain respect.”

          That was true enough. Even to the nonbeliever, a cathedral demanded respect and reverence. The air in them was different, somehow, heavier. Every sound was magnified. Every careless footfall echoed throughout the chambers like a rockslide might echo in a canyon.

          “It reminds me of England,” James said. “My family used to go to Canterbury for Christmas. The cathedral there was much like this one. Bigger, perhaps, but similar.” He stared with sad eyes up at the arches and stained glass. “It seems so long ago, now.”

          You gave his hand a squeeze. “We’ll find a way to get you home.” The words sounded unconvincing, even to your own ears, but James smiled appreciatively all the same.

          Your third and final stop of the day was the Statue of Liberty. One of the most iconic pieces in America, you figured the group had to see it. You explained that it was a symbol of liberty and freedom while in the car.

          “Freedom?” James asked.

          You knew you had to break it to them sometime, and you supposed that now was the best time to do so. “From Britain. We’re not colonies anymore.” Your friend parked the car in a space where you could see the statue from across the water.

          “What happened?”

          “We had a revolution. Britain was taxing us unfairly, so we decided to start our own country.”

          “Avoiding taxes?” Jack grinned, joining the conversation. “Sounds like something a pirate might do, love.”

          “It was more complicated than that.” Still, you couldn’t suppress a smile. “It was taxation without representation.”

          “If you say so, mate.”

          “The world must be very different,” said James. “New borders, new countries. And Britain has probably lost many of its colonies, by now.” He looked sad, worried, even.

          “Yes, it has. But it’s still a strong country with a good economy, and is looked to as a world leader. The world may change, but the powers remain, taking power in new ways.”

          He nodded. “They always are.”

          You returned home afterwards and talked to your friend about what you should make for dinner. They smiled at you. “You should get Norrington to help you. The two of you are adorable, and I think he likes you.” They leaned in. “Besides, I know you’ve had a crush on him ever since you watched those movies.” Your friend winked, leaving you alone to blush as they went on to talk to the group.

          When you got to the kitchen, you saw that Jack, Elizabeth, and Will had had much the same idea for James. He stood there, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “Today was lovely.” He looked at you bashfully, and you couldn’t help giving him a small smile back.

          “Thank you. I….” You didn’t really have words, so you trailed off into awkward silence, grabbing the ingredients for dinner.

          James helped, getting things out of the fridge for you, though he stared at it like it was from an alien planet. To him, it is.

          He passed the food to you, but his hand lingered on yours, and you felt yourself blush. You set the food down, turning back to him. Gently, he took your hand in his, raising it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but clearly couldn’t think of anything.

          You stepped forward, a little uncertainly, and kissed him on the cheek. He went red, and so did you. You stepped back, returning to your cooking. He watched, helping where he could, and you settled into a comfortable silence, goofy smiles across your faces.

          Living with this group has its upsides, I suppose. James, I think, accounts for ten of them.