#just that as vere said: hes not as much of a nice guy as he lets on

[redstrewn]

Yes to be evil but i hope we cry w how much of a bitch leanders real personality is

[6okuto]

Hiii! I hope it's not too suggestive since I saw your blog is mainly sfw OWBOANALA but I wanted to hear your headcanons about the main cast of Touchstarved, just in general tho, like who's a bottom, who's a top and who's a switch (I personally think everyone there is a switch bc y'know... whatever makes mc happy they're down for it)

If it's too suggestive or explicit for your blog lemme know and we can ramble about it together in chat if you're down for it! (In that case I'll send you my @)!

!!!! I AGREE!! AND DEFINITELY DID MORE THAN U ASKED! My Bad guys. indulged myself a little w one (1) nsft post. a gift 🫶 & OFC i'll also talk more in chat w u / anyone who wants to!!! i always want 2 hear everyone else's thoughts 👩🏻‍💻

leander

switch...sub leaning.? they did Not have to tell me for a leader he sure likes it when others take control. that vere wouldn't spit on him if he were a fire, "oh no, he'd enjoy that far too much." leander saying he doesn't mind vere around since he's fun and "got a real...presence." when he said "anything you want." I Know What You Are.

smth smth addressed by a title, sensation play, degradation said in a praising way, body worship, size kink, overstim, smth smth. i trust vere. spit on him. leader who relishes in giving up control and being taken care of yeah yeah yeah

enjoying being a sub aside he can easily be a service dom

mfw leander gets on his knees and says he'll do anything to please you just say the word. when he touches you somewhere and asks here? is this good? oh the intimacy of interlacing your fingers and bringing your hands to touch him anywhere, everywhere, just as a reminder that you Can

ais

switch - "gives it almost as well as he takes it, even if he's awfully greedy." thanks vere my buddy my pal

i know this little shit (said lovingly) is a tease like dragging his fingers slowly telling you to say please kind of way

figures out what pet names you like and has the most annoying smirk on his face. "oh? did you like that?"

edging. Needing you to tell him what he wants or he won't do anything.

idk i think this guy likes it when you take control though! like get on top and he'll have a stupid cocky grin before he eventually unravels and is moaning whimpering swearing 🤨

i don't have to say anything about the tentacles. moving on

i have a vision where if you let out a noise he looks at you with a raised brow before smirking and then whispering "cute." in your ear before trailing kisses along your jaw But That's Just Me Projecting I Think

vere

switch in a bratty prove you can dom him way. "looks good in blood and better in tears." LETS BE SERIOUS AIS 😂😂 you don't have to tell me twice if bro likes rough sex or is into bondage or edging or overstim or marking or

smth abt predator/prey... i'm not even really into that but i can see it

same thing w u taking control and him saying a stupid joke then being caught off guard,, at least the first time. i know this guy would do shit to tease and rile you up in public just so you'd do something later

he made that biting comment and i believe him. nips at you. seems like he'd leave hickies in places people could see and if you did the same to him Well why would he hide them. also pull his hair

something about fingers in your mouth or vice versa. smth smth making u taste urself Sorry Woah this was bc he was licking champagne foam from his fingers. i had a vision

kuras

switch in an easily doms + teases you, may surprise you with a few kinks, takes a bit to be sub but ends up liking it kind of way. reminds me of om! barbatos + tot vyn. I know what you are. (brat tamer)

the sub thing. like the first time u ask he's Very curious about what you'd do. amused even. the joy of telling him not to touch and teasing him then stopping right before he finishes. and then telling him to be nice and ask for what he wants,, if u go long enough he'll finally groan w a little "please," where his voice cracks WHO GETS ME!

giving me blindfold + temperature play vibes. don't know why.

anyways. can also be soft i'm sure. like a traditionally romantic sort of sense. i don't know how to explain it.

btw "you know, on account of his massive...heart." thank you vere for being the realest person around

mhin

switch vry sub leaning for me but that's bc i like teasing them. and so does everyone else.... oh mhin...

but if u were a soft dom they could use that i think. like Let yourself be close and taken care of mhin. please. OHH praising them to tease them instead of being mean catches them a little off guard. they get flustered and look away again Yeah

i don't see them as particularly talkative during sex,, tbh i think they'd get embarrassed and try to stop themself from making Any noise until you tell them you like hearing their voice...

drags myself through the mud... breathing heavily... leave hickies on their chest... mhin leaving hickies on you... i have no grounds to explain this btw. i just get sensitive chest/collarbone area vibes

still figuring out dom!mhin in my head. charas who are easily teased can often switch it around on u if u say the right thing so. though i don't really see them as being very degrading during sex

misc / multichara thoughts i didn't form properly bc i have to go back to essay writing in a bit.

vere and ais would have the biggest impact on me w the first vulnerable soft sex scene. they deserve it

someone's into the sex after an argument thing. something about jealousy. marking you etc etc

leander telling you you can use him. leander shower sex. leander using magic. leander. help me

has leander just fucked everybody. can he stop blushing when talking about other people + the others' opinions what r u guys implying YOU ARE GOING TO DRIVE ME OVER THE EDGE /J /NM

i don't see kuras / mhin being very into quickies but well. the other 3.

something abt the bad ending w vere tells me he really enjoys when you're vulnerable and exposed to him. trust or whatever

scenario where you tell kuras u think something's wrong and u need a Check Up w the Doctor :( and he gives u a little look before reminding you if you want attention you could just ask then kissing you. Who gets me

mhin smirking . that's all. my legs wobble

[cacaobean760]

Ok so this is my first ever post but I actually really want to talk about this because for the past 3 or 4 days I have been hyperfixated on Touchstarved 😅(but who can blame me🤷‍♀️) so this is gonna be on Leander because like everyone else I have been thinking about his character and what everything means because he is obviously MAD sus. I know that there are already a lot of theories out there in this pretty boy so I’m just gonna talk about some weird lines I noticed and I think I’ll do a separate post about things about his character physically because this is already gonna be a long one🌞 I honestly have no idea where to really start but I’m just gonna hop right in so buckle up because this will probably be long🤠 Now first things first as much as I would love to trust this pretty boy we all know that he is, for one reason or another, trying to get us to trust him. And with the very first option we get with Leander to either take the flowers or refuse them, if you choose to refuse them he basically just dismisses us and reiterates what he said before

At first glance this seems innocent enough and maybe even kind but when you actually think about it, it is a bit weird. Like he is really trying to make a good impression on us because who doesn’t like flowers right?👀 and we know that he is specifically targeting us because before this when everyone else is calling out for the flowers(which means that we can assume that they all already like, trust, and or know Leander) this happens

Now upon reading this, this was definitely gonna happen because we are the MC but if you look at this from Leanders view, we are a new face, someone he doesn’t know yet, someone who doesn’t trust him yet. Leander later plays this off by flattery and saying he is,” certain that he would remember a face as lovely as ours around Lowtown”. Now I just might be SUPER paranoid here but I feel this kills two birds with one stone because one it covers up the fact that he noticed us right away but also establishes a relationship with some flattery. Am I saying he is lying when he says this and that he is not being truthful about finding us attractive, no, but I definitely think that there is a hidden agenda here, which is getting us to trust him. Next, I don’t even know what this fully means but I think it definitely alludes to his character so I’ll include it

Just like the flowers, Leander is trying to make an impression, whether this nice guy act last long or not, we don’t know yet 🤷‍♀️ Later on in the story at the bar counter the MC and Leander are chit chatting so Leander asks us why we are at the Wet Wick and once Leander realizes it’s for work his mood changes immediately but only for a second

Before he was very happy and all smiles but for some reason this drops when he realizes it’s about work??? I also have no idea what this means again, but if he is actually disappointed that we did not come to the Wet Wick just because, or something else I don't know, but I feel this is important. Then when we mention the Senobium and all the Bloodhounds act up this caught my eye

Beforehand he was very invested in us and talkative but now he doesn’t even notice an uproar??? And then to add on, when he does notice, this is his reaction

I just feel that this is a very weird reaction for someone who is portrayed as very friendly and outgoing. Again in the moment of reading this it might not seem that weird or out of character but when you think about how bubbly he was before it definitely is questionable. Like I said there are many theories on Leander and the Bloodhounds and one of them is that the Bloodhounds are a gang or something like it and something that I feel backs this up is this line right here, specifically the key word territory

As far as I know gangs do have territory. But this means that there has to be some other territory or some sort of rival! This leads me to what Vere says later on in the game when you choose to follow him

Sooooooo does this mean that the Senobium is or has a gang???? Maybe, but I feel that there is something going on there. Then after all the commotion we finally go outside and Leander tries to figurer out what is "wrong" with us and why we want to go to the Senobium. When trying to convince us to tell him he says

Again at first glance, this seems perfectly fine but, again, I may just be reading wayyyy to much into things, but to me, this feels a bit cocky for someone as friendly and bubbly as he is suppose to be. He is most definitely trying to convince us to tell him about ourselves even though we already know that INFORMATION IS VERY SENSITIVE IN THIS CITY. And yet Leander reassures us that he can help and so we should tell him. Then when we finally do tell him that we are cursed his response is

This strikes me as odd because the Devs have said that yes, he is from a Hightown family, but he did not go to the Senobium to study, soooo how exactly would he know the differences and why would he be so interested in it because unless for some odd reason he was taught at home about curses which I don't think is very likely, what did he exactly do to acquire this knowledge?

Ok so this is already really long, like longer then I thought it would be but I still have more so Ima just gonna do a part 2, but thanks for reading!!! And in conclusion, Leander is mad sus.

[heavensickness]

Why is it that many Leander lovers also love Ais? I ask as a Leander lover that also loves Ais. Is it the huge daddy milkers on them? I'm curious to hear from others about what drew them to these two.

Well, my guesses are:

1) Those big naturals (obviously)

2) The fact that there is a stark contrast between their personalities and at the same time, they have some important similarities.

For example, Leander is very talkative and according to Vere, most of his words are empty flattery. It is impossible to know his true intentions or emotions. On the other hand; Ais is a man of few words but even though we have the option to call him a liar, I believe he is the most honest one out of all LIs. Like, he says only a few words but his heart is on his sleeve as he himself puts it. Additionally, when we look at their characterizations, Leander is the "good guy" who is actually hiding the shady & possibly terrifying part of himself. Ais is seen as a violent and scary person but as we know thanks to his pets, he is actually a huge softie lmao. Also both Vere and Leander confirm that he is actually nice when you get to know him. So their characterizations are complete opposites in this way. Honestly, meeting Ais after Leander was a whiplash for me and dare I say, kinda comforting with how honest he is - albeit irritating. I think that's why I like Ais so much. The dialogues between Ais and the MC flow very naturally too.

For similarities, they are both leader figures leading people with unknown origins & intentions, so we have the mysterious leader trope here. Which is sexy. Another similarity is that both Leander and Ais make MC feel comfortable. Like yeah, Ais can be irritating but like I said before, the dialogues between him and MC are smooth and unforced. The scene where Ais and MC sit together in silence in front of a corpse emphasized that MC doesn't have to be on guard or always dancing with words when it comes to Ais, they can just relax and enjoy the silence. Which is a big privilege for MC when we consider the shit they are going through. And needless to say, the comfort Leander offers with his touch and his words is something that MC never experienced before. So all in all, the only LIs that have offered MC a taste of sincerity and comfort were Ais and Leander in the demo.

tldr: Leander and Ais are complete opposites & maybe foils regarding their characterization, and that makes both of them very interesting characters. Additionally, they both offer MC a sense of normalcy, sincerity & comfort in their completely opposite ways.

[mrs-amber]

no baby at all but a real babe

Alina, this one is entirely for you. It seems that you know exactly what I would like to write. Hope you like it!

(see this post here to understand a bit better what i’m talking about :))

He remembered all the stories Auguste told him through the years. 

They met when they were at uni, both had moved to Delfeur, to study and had met there, two foreign guys that became best friends in the first minute. Damen had an older brother, Kastor, while Auguste had a younger brother, Laurent, both had stayed in their own countries with their families. Delfeur was the country between Akielos and Vere so it was the best place to learn things like economics and international relations. Kastor and Damen weren’t very close anymore, but he could tell Laurent was the most precious person in Auguste’s life. That much was clear by the way he always wore a fond expression while talking and telling him all embarrassing stories he could remember of Laurent in his childhood. Like the time he put two cushions on the floor and threw himself at it, putting one hand in each of them. When the weight of his body acted in his hands, he separated his arms and went face first in the floor. Auguste said he would have a scar in his chin forever. Or else the time when they left him alone at home by the age of seven and he tried to make spaghetti by himself, only he didn’t know he had to put all of it in the pan and ended up putting fire in it because of the part that stayed out. Oh, gosh. Damen couldn't remember the last time he laughed so hard as when he pictured the image of a tiny child desperate trying to hide the mess from his parents. He told this amongst other stuff, of course, because whenever anything happened that reminded him of his baby bro he would start talking and never again stop. 

Damen adored the excitement in his best friends manners when that happened, and sometimes he managed to find something about Kastor he would share too, like the time they went fishing and kastor was acting all smug because it was Damen’s first time out fishing, and when he threw the fish hook it got stuck in a tree branch. And then it was Auguste’s turn to laugh ‘til he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Now it was years since they first met, both had continued living in Delfeur and were working in the same company, although they didn’t live together anymore for the past years. Since Auguste had met Kashel and they moved in together. Funny thing to imagine after all this years is that he had actually never met any of Auguste’s family members, even if he felt like he knew all their lifes and manneirisms for how much Auguste would never shut the fuck up. His parents he imagined hadn’t changed much since Auguste left, he presumed, but imagining Laurent was a bit different. For what he could remember, Auguste was about 13 years older than Laurent... And he was now 35? God, he was getting old too. When they met, Auguste was going through his second degree, and it was Damen’s first… And they had what, six years of difference between them? Damen was actually no good at remembering dates and that kind of stuff, he might just ask Auguste himself, who was way better at this than him. Anyway, his thoughts were already taking a completely different direction already.

And why was he so obsessed with this kind of thoughts now of all times... Oh, right. Laurent was finally coming over to visit Auguste, after his own graduation. Seemed to be the best time to come, as Auguste himself had said. Apparently, before it Laurent was either too young or too committed to his studies to come over. And now Damen would finally meet him. Problem is, he couldn't take off his mind the picture of a mini version of Auguste running around, making a mess and driving everyone insane with the amount of questions he would ask since he first started talking. And Laurent was probably 20 something now… Oh, fuck. He would probably make a fool out of himself in front of the guy.

Auguste had invited him to dine at his place, he and Kashel were really excited to be receiving Laurent at their place and said they preferred to do it there than go to a restaurant, this way they could be more comfortable and talk and drink as much as they wanted. That was okay, right?

Damen arrived at seven sharp and he could already hear the laughter pouring from inside their apartment when he stood outside and ringed the doorbell. He heard someone screaming “coming!” and then footsteps coming closer.

“Hey, man!” Said Auguste, holding the door open for him. “Oh, you brought more wine! I told you there was no need to bother with anything... But wine is never too much, right?” He winked at Damen.

Damen laughed and approached to give him a hug, then stepped inside and stood there a bit awkwardly. Auguste slapped him in the shoulder and laughed at him.

“Jeez, Damen! It’s only my brother, not my fucking grandma, you shouldn’t be this shy.” He grabbed the bottle from Damen’s hands and continued. “I'm going to put this in the freezer, but you can get going…” He sent a last laugh in Damen’s direction as he walked away.

Right, only the baby brother. He felt a bit weird because he heard all kinds of things about him and it was almost like he already knew the guy, but they had never seen each other before. How awkward would it be to look at someone for the first time and know that when he was five he got bitten by a crab because he thought it was just a shell that he liked to pick up at the beach. Well, what was the worst that could happen? He was about to find out.

He made his way to the living room, following the songs of chatter and the occasional laughter that would follow. When he got there, Kashel stood up and went running to jump and wrap her arms and legs around him. Barely giving him time to focus on the blonde head that was sitting on the couch, back at him. His hair seemed a shade lighter than Auguste’s. Or was it just the light? He sniffled Kashel’s hair and laughed softly as her curls tickled his nose. Kashel pressed herself against him in a tight hold that made him let out a soft gasp, making her giggle. She was loud like this, you could hear her in every gesture. It was a nice match for Auguste, who had a strong personality but more serious. She could light him up and complement him in the smallest of details. They became fast friends with each other after Auguste introduced them and he loved her just as much as he loved Auguste by now.

When she let him go, the man was now standing and approaching them. And then, Damen couldn't help but stare. Sure, his hair was lighter than auguste’s as he suspected, and his eyes were of a deep blue, piercing his soul. He had his face in a red flush, probably from the drink, he supposed. He was the most dazzling creature he had ever laid eyes upon.

He stretched a hand for damen to shake. “Hi, I’m Laurent.” Obviously.

“I know.” He found himself having problems speaking and forming proper and coherent phrases. “I mean, I’m Damen. Damianos. But call me Damen.” He held Laurent's hand in his and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. 

By his side, he heard someone giggling, but he had only eyes for Laurent, who’s cheeks seemed to have become just a shade darker and his mouth left agape, staring at their hands, then at Damen back again.

“So, I get that you're not feeling shy anymore, Damianos.” The name made a shiver run down his spine as he remembered who he was facing and where he was, as he turned in his heels to see Auguste leaning at the door. Unreadable expression in his face.

[arthurflecksgirl]

Hi sweety!🥰 could you please develope a prompt where x reader goes to Arthur's apartment for a coffee (they're only friends maybe?) and then she forgot her sweater (🥺) by him. so the next day he goes to her apartment to bring the sweater back to her. And idk if you want to add some cuddles or a cold weather and a warm tea🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much

Oh sweetheart, your request warmed my heart and it was so much fun to write it.  You know I have a weakness for sweater stories when it comes to our sweet Artie.Thank you so much. I really really hope you like it.

Pressing that elevator button felt different, knowing that you wouldnt go into your own apartment but ringing the bell on Arthur`s door. You knew each other since you moved into this building a few months ago but it took you weeks to finally make the first move and talk to him.

Arthur was a very shy man with intense eyes and a beautiful smile, which was hiding so much pain. You could tell from the way he was making jokes that he was sad. He was the kind of person who wanted to make others happy because he couldnt find happiness himself. Observing his loneliness made you sad. It hurt you to see that a wonderful man like him was all alone. Every since his mother was commited to Arkham state hospital he lived a lonely life in his dark apartment. Sometimes you could hear him laugh through the walls. It was a different kind of laughter, almost like he was in pain. One day he started laughing out of the blue and he handed this card to you, which said something about a condition. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he was too shy to interact with people. You have never seen him with someone else. Being his only friend felt special. Thats what you were. Friends. At least you thought so. Arthur never showed any kind of interest in being more than that. He was always very friendly, awkwardly shy and incredibly sad. Even when he was funny. Especially ehen he was funny.

You walked down the halls with a racing heart. You fell hard for this beautiful, sad soul. Just the thought of meeting up with him for a coffee made your knees weak. If only he knew if you were in love with him. But how could you vere tell him without risking his freindship? Maybe he prefered to be alone. Arthur always seemed like he could be scared away easily and you didnt wanted to. Just sitting beside him on his couch, feeling his presence was a gift. You could never risk to lose that.

Meeting up for a coffee after work was something you used to do pretty often now. Sometimes he would take you to the donut shop, even though he never ate one, but this time he invited you to come over to his place. Which felt so much more intimate.

You took a deep breath as you rang the doorbell.

"Coming" Arturs soft voice sounded like he was already smiling.

He opened the door. His brown curls matched his worn out chestnut sweater. A cigarette was tugged between his thin lips. He looked tired but his natural beauty was almost hurtful.

"Hi Y/N." his smile exposed his crooked tooth, which reminded you of how many nights you yearned for him to kiss you.

"Hey Arthur. I`m sorry I´m a bit late. I had to work longer today. "

"Its fine. I mean...I won`t go anywhere. I`m....here..." for a brief moment there was an awkward silence between the two of you. Then he turned around "Sit down...I mean....." he ran his fingers through his hair, appearently nervous ".....make yourself at home. I`ll make some coffee."

He headed into the kitchen while you sat down on the couch and took off your sweater.It was cold outside.Gotham city wasnt very pleasent during wintertime. The cold easily managed to get to your bones.

It was the 3rd time you every sat here. The fabric was old and faded, yellow and blue pillows decorated the corners. Along with  flowery and green sheets. Everything smelled like him. The scent of passion and romance. You always imagined Arthur to be a very romantic lover. The thought of that made you blush while he came back from the kitchen to hand you a hot cup of coffee.

"I`m sorry I only have these self made Murray Franklin show cups to offer you. Kinda embarassing." He took a sip of his own cup which looked exactly like yours , except for the handwritten letters looking a bit more shaky.

You turned the cup in yor hands "I think thats pretty sweet actually. Making your own cups of your fave tv show".

Arthurs eyes pierced you while he took another sip. The color of his eyes was everything.

"Yeah?"

"Sure!"

"You`re the only one who thinks so" he lit himself another cig and took a deep drag. His eyelids fluttered for a second. Details. details everywhere. Arthur was like a museum of details.

"My mother thought it was stupid. She said it reminds her of the fact that we dont even have enough money to buy the real cup."

You gave him a serious look "No, I really think its a creative thing to do. You are a creative guy."

His face lighted up "You think i´m crative? "

"Sure. You do write your own jokes, right?"

"Mhhh hmmmm, yeah"

"See? Very creative."

"Maybe I am" Arthurs left leg started bouncing and you caught yourself thinking how nice it would be to place your hand on his knee and make it stop by calming him down. You imagined how the fabric of his blue pants would feel under your fingertips. Or his naked skin...

Arthur sat close beside you, yet not close enough for his knee or arm to touch yours. You thought about how you could possibly touch him by accident. Feeling the fabcric of his clothes or his bare skin stroking yours was all you could think about.

He put the cup back on the table and looked at you in a way he never did before. His eyes focused you without blinking. Like the shyness within him was gone for a brief moment. You tried to mirror his stare, but it was impossible to look into his eyes without fighting  the urge to grab his face and kiss him. So you focused on the curl that was dancing in his neck instead. Not a good idea as well. Looking at this vulnerable part of his body only made you yearn for more.

You caught yourself looking away, which made you hate yourself. How could you possibly turn your head away when he was finally looking at you like that?

"You`re a party clown right?"

Arthur finally blinked "Yeah."

"I`d love to see some of your acts some day"

"I also do stand up comedy. Maybe you`ll come to Pogos when I perform next week?"

"Ohh Arthur, I would love that" and all of te sudden your hand was resting on his thigh. Arthurs muscles twitched under your soft touch. Like he wasnt used to being touched at all.

His smile said more than a thousand words "Wow, thats great news. I would love to see you in the audience. I will try to give my best performance for you. You know what Y/N? I´m gonna write a joke especially for you. Would you like that?"

Your hand was still on his leg. Touching him was magical. Like your hand was always supposed to be there. You nodded. Unable to say a word.

He looked at the back of yor hand like he couldnt belive that someone was actually resting his hand on him. You could tell from his eyes how touch starved he was.

All of the sudden Arthur got up. Your hand falling off his leg felt wrong.

"So I think I better work on that jokes now." he mumbled while he headed to his desk.

Right now? You felt the disappointment rising in your heart. He wanted you to leave?

"They better be good if you`re gonna be a part of the audience!" he added.

"Okay Arthur. It was nice to have a coffee with you. Im sure your new jokes will turn out incredibly funny.""

He smiled his sweetest smile while he grabbed the pen, looking like he was already about to concentrate.

"You know, I wrote this joke last night but I havent figured out the punchline yet. Punshlines are important. And facial expessions. I feel like I always get them wrong. And I have to look into peoples eyes more often."

"Sounds like a great plan, Arthur. "

"Thank you Y/N. I`m trying. I really do."

"I know"

"I want my stand ups to be good enough for the big clubs." he pressed his journal to his chest.

"I`m sure some day you will be well known. Everyone will  know the name Arthur Fleck and think of a grea comedian".

You noticed his eyes watering as he walked you to the door "Even kids?"

"Sure?"

"That would be sweet"

You wrapped his arms around him as you said our goodbyes "So, I`ll see you next week at Pogos?" he asked.

"Definitely!"

Your hug felt a little too tight for being just friends and you hoped he didnt noticed.

It felt a little too long too, but you couldnt help but trying to get a nose full of the smell of his soft curls.

Arthur looked after you before he closed the door behind him.

You walked down the hallway to get to your own apartment and immediately missed him.

Twenty minutes later you found yourself lying on your bed, realizing that you forgot your sweater on his couch. Should you gt over and  get it? You decited not to. He porobably was working on his jokes right now and you didnt wanted to bother him. So instead of visiting him one more time you just disappeared under the blanket and dreamed of him for the rest of the night.

The next day felt like a fever dream. Fantasizing about Arthurs lips and hands for the whole night left you with a strange feeling in your chest. Was it wrong to think of him that way? You thought about your sweater and how it was lying in Arthurs apartment for the whole night. You wondered if he left it lying on the couch and if he was still sleeping on the couch now that Penny was at the hospital? You couldnt concentrate while working at all. Your beautiful neighbor filled your mind with so many questions and daydreams. Daydreaming about him became something that helped you to get through the day. Just thinking of him chuckeling made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, like nothing could harm you anymore.

This man was magic.

And you wanted him so bad.

Somehow the day passed by like every day does and you found yourself alone in the bathroom, looking at the mirror, wondering if you were even his type of girl. You had no idea in what kinda girls he was into.

And just as you started wondering someone knocked at your door. Was it possible...?

You nervously hurried up to open it.

It was him.

Arthur was standing in front of you, holding your sweater in his hands.

"Hi Y/N. I dont know if you noticed but... you forgot your sweater yesterday and I didnt wanted to bother you and...."

"Ohhh Arthur. Thats so sweet of you. Yeah I noticed. Thank you."

You could swear that he was about to blush.

"You wanna come in?"

Arthur nodded while he stumbled through your door.

"Make yourself comfy, I am right back" you smiled as he sat down in the living room.

You disappeared in the bathroom, pressing your face into your sweater to see if it smelled differently. It did. There was a hint of Arthurs cologne on it. His flowery shampoo and the smell of smoke. Your sweater smelled like him.

You buried your face deeper into the fabric and breathed in.

It was your piece of clothing but it felt like it was his. Breathing in the scent that was so him was the most intimate moment of your entire life. Was that what it feels like to fall asleep in his arms? To cuddle with him on the couch while watching his fave comedy shows on the screen? Was that what he smelled like under his clothes? His bare skin? Was that the scent that would surrowd you while making love to him?

Your thoughts went all over the place while you rubbed the fabric against your blushing cheeks.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

Arthurs voice woke you from your daydreams "Oh, yeah sure. Just got to use the bathroom. I´ll be right back"

"Okay! "

A minute later you sat beside him on the couch, the sweater still in your hands.

Arthur stared at it. His hands lay on his lap while he played with his own fingers.

"I have to admit something" he said "It`s so embarrassing. I dont even know how to tell you...."

"You can tell me anything, Arthur"

"There is a stain on your sweater now. It was me. I`m so sorry. I ruined it. Its face paint. I still got it on  my fingers after I cleaned my brushes. " he showed you the spots where he stained it.

Traces of him.

This somehow made you very emotional.

Its was his sweater now.

Through and through.

"Thats okay, Arthur. Dont worry. I dont mind."

"Really?" he seemed surprised.

"I dont mind at all !"

He shrug "Well there is another thing.... after I noticed you forgot your sweater on my couch... there was a reason I didnt came over to hand it to you last night. Its so embarrassing, oh my god..."

You giggled "Okay? Why didnt you?"

"I....put it on" Arthur buried his face in his hands "Sorry, dont hate me. Please. I put your sweater on and I slept in it." His legs started to bounce.

You coudlnt belive what you just heard. That was the cutest thing you could have imagined.

"Arthur,really? You slept in my sweater?"

He exposed his face.

"I know...I know....its...I`m sorry. Now you must think I`m a total freak or a stalker or something." He looked down on the floor, way too shy to look you in the eyes while he started to bite his nails.

"Actually I think thats pretty cute." you chuckled. The blood was rushing to your face. This man really got under your skin.

"What? Are...are you serious? You´re not mad at me? You dont think i´m a freak?"

"I could never think you`re a freak. I´m glad you told me. Now I`m going to tell you something much more embarrassing, okay? So you see that you are not the only one."

Arthur gave you an insecure look "Okay?"

"When I was at the bathroom before, I sniffed my sweater because I hoped it would smell like your apartment."

"I`m sorry if it smells like smoke now."

"Noooo not because of that! I wanted it to smell like... you!"

Arthurs eyes filled with love "You mean...."

You nodded as your eyes watered "I`m in love with you ever since I saw you for the first time. I just didnt knew how to tell you."

Arthur fell into your arms "Me too Y/N. Oh god.....me,too."

You pulled him closer. You never noticed how tiney he was in your arms. How fragile.

"Why havent you told me?" you asked him, while his face was buried in your neck.

"I didnt wanted to boter you. People often feel bothered by me. They think I`m weird. I was glad you even talked to me. Those short coffee breaks meant the world to me."

"Artie, this is just....I`m speechless."

He chuckled, now facing you "You just called me Artie".

"I know. Thats what I called you in my head all the time".

"I could get used to that" he smirked, which made his lip scar show even more intense.

"I cold call you Artie all night if you want to stay. " you whispered into his ear.

"I would love to. I mean its cold outside and some cuddles and warm tea would be nice..."

"Or some kisses" you added.

"Or some kisses....." Arthur turned his face to the left and put your face between his gentle hands.

His lips on yours felt even better than in your fantasy.

His taste filling your mouth was all you ever wanted.

And as you both fell into the pillows  you buried your face into his curls and took a deep breath of Arthur Fleck.

@impulsiveclown @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokerownsmysoul @missjoker96 @arthurskitten @lynnesm @nonnymousse @gwynplaine89 @damnrightobsessedwithim @sgtsavoytruffle  @duhliriouss @sadjesterautumn @therealjokerking10 @flowerglitterwoman @thirstforfleck @spookyhome @iartsometimes  @you-cant-cry-in-here @bustafatclownnut @jokerismyhubbie @jokerflecker  @check-out-this-joker @darknessisafriend  @nicoleverse @mdme-rosary @arthurhappyclown    @neon-umbrella-for-stella   @cherrymoon75 @call-me-harley-quinn  @arthurjokersgirl

[fanfictionaries]

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 12 - December

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

The Yule Ball has been announced and Fred Weasley has made the sinking realization that he’s completely and utterly attracted to Hermione Granger. But is he the only one with seemingly unrequited feelings?

So many questions and yet the biggest one of all: Who is taking Hermione Granger to the ball?

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

I'M SO SO SO SORRY THIS WAS LATE! The week got away from me and before I knew it, it was Sunday and I hadn't written ANYTHING. So, I ended up writing this entire chapter in one day and fell asleep editing it. I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I do!

I update every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST) (except for this time...ha ha ha...)!

Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

Masterlist

<<Chapter 11

  December come to me I hope I can see You not just in dreams

I will let you be

Why can't you believe

How much you really mean

 Hermione sat in the library, feeling more on edge than she ever had in her life. Krum was due to meet her at any moment and all she could think about was…her face heated just thinking about it. She’d had the dream again. No, not her nightmare. Her nights of fear inducing dreams were long gone ever since she started spending most of her days with the twins. No, she had had the dream again. The one that left her stomach in heated knots and raised her pulse to a terrifying level. While the dream started the same as last time – the library, the couple, the hands on her body and lips kissing up her neck – this time, when she turned to catch a glimpse of the fiery red hair, the world spun around her. It spun and spun until she realized the world wasn’t spinning at all – she was. She was dancing, turning circles in space as the same pair of hands held her close. Her mind fought tooth and nail to catch a glimpse of the mystery man, but it was as if her spine was fused – unable to look anywhere but straight ahead. Who was it and why did they turn her hot and feverish? Why did she melt at just the thought of their embrace?

When she awoke that morning, sweaty and out of breath, she couldn’t ignore the thrumming of her heart at the apex of her thighs. Shifting in her seat, she tried to quell the achy feeling starting to rise just from the brief memory of her subconscious escapades. Fully expecting to become a jumbled mess of embarrassment and arousal, she was nervous to see Ron in History of Magic that morning. However, much to her pleasure and confusion, when she saw him, she felt nothing more than a slight heat on her face which she attributed to nerves over how she might feel, rather than a true reaction due to her dream. Perhaps her ability to compose herself was better than she thought. The possibility quelled her racing mind, but she couldn’t ignore the small nagging voice in the back of her head that said she knew more than one person with red hair.

“Hello, боец, you are vell, yes?” Krum’s voice broke Hermione from her thoughts. She jumped, dropping the heavy book in her hands onto the parchment covered table with a muffled thud.

“Viktor hello. Yes, I’m doing quite well,” greeted Hermione breathlessly. “I can call you Viktor, correct?”

“You can call me vhatever you vant, боец,” said Viktor, giving her a reserved smile that Hermione found to be quite charming.

“Ah, yes. Well, I suppose if we’re going to be studying together, I should probably introduce myself properly—” she extended a hand to him “—Hello Viktor, my name is Hermione Granger. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Hermy-own?” said Viktor with great difficulty as he shook her hand. His full lips twisted and stumbled over the vowels and consonants.

Hermione laughed nervously. “No, no. Hermione. Like this: Her-my-oh-nee,” she spoke slowly, sounding out her name bit by bit.

Viktor’s brows scrunched in concentration as he repeated her to the best of his abilities, “Her-my-oh-ninny.”

“Close enough,” sighed Hermione in good nature, gesturing for Viktor to take a seat across from her.

He surprised her by seating himself in the chair next to her with ease. Or at least as much ease as possible for the tall Bulgarian. He was surprisingly uncoordinated for someone who flew with such grace on the quidditch field. The one advantage to seeing Viktor Krum off of his broom, however, was the ability to see just how handsome he was. He had a very pleasing face, with a broad brow, sharp cheekbones, strong nose, and equally strong jawline. Yes, he was really quite handsome, Hermione thought indulgently as she observed him. His black hair was cropped exceedingly short, which Hermione thought was a shame – she quite liked the way longer hair looked on men. Feeling as though she had been staring for much too long, Hermione turned back to her book as Viktor pulled out a notebook, quill, and ink.

“This library – it is much larger than the one at home,” commented Viktor casually.

Hermione looked up from her book again and glanced around at the tall shelves, expansive stone walls, and large tapestries. “Really? What is your school like?” she asked curiously. While she had read everything she could on Durmstrang, she had been left wanting – the Bulgarians were quite secretive.

“Vell, it is a castle much like yours, but it is much smaller. Ve have less students, I am thinking. The library is smaller, but you do not have all the same books here, I have noticed. Ve do not have a, what you call a restricted section,” said Viktor thoughtfully.

“Really?” asked Hermione in surprise.

“Yes. Ve do not view knowledge as good or bad at Durmstrang. Just knowledge.”

“I’ve always thought the same thing,” said Hermione excitedly, mindful to keep her volume low with her increased enthusiasm. She didn’t need to be kicked out of the library a second time that year. “I think knowledge should be accessible to everyone. Sure, some things can be quite vile, but it’s not the magic that makes the witch or wizard bad and a bad person will find the information out one way or another if they really want it. Tell me more about Durmstrang.”

“It gets very cold in the vinters and the fires are only lit for classes and such. So ve vear heavy cloaks to keep us varm. But in the spring and summer, you should see the grounds. Vhile our castle is smaller than yours, the grounds are triple the size! Ve vill fly for hours over the mountains and lakes. It is beautiful,” said Viktor proudly. Hermione tried to imagine a school with grounds triple the size of Hogwarts. She already felt like the space around her school was expansive.

“That sounds lovely,” responded Hermione with a smile.

“Do you fly, Herm-own-ninny?”

“Oh no—” Hermione chuckled bashfully “—I’m quite afraid of heights if I’m being honest. But I love quidditch. I think the sport is so fascinating. The theory and tactics behind it are very interesting and of course the talent it takes to fly the way some players do is very impressive. Like you, for example—”

Viktor raised his dark, thick brows in surprise.

“—I saw you at the world cup, you know. You’re an excellent flyer. Even Harry agreed. He was quite impressed with your…oh what was it…oh! The Wronski Feint. Does that sound right?”

“Yes, yes! That is vone of my favorites. Unfortunately, ve did not vin…” Viktor trailed off, frowning as if the loss of the world cup was still a freshly open wound.

“Yes, but you ended things on your own terms,” said Hermione, remembering Harry’s explanation for Viktor’s catching of the snitch while Ireland was up by 160 points.

Viktor perked up at her comment. “Yes, that’s exactly it! Ve vould not be able to catch up, I knew that. Their chasers vere too good.”

“So, you caught the snitch to end the game with only a loss of ten point, as opposed to three hundred and ten,” concluded Hermione, settling comfortably into her seat. She felt much more relaxed now than she did when Viktor had first sat down.

Viktor smiled at her in appraisal. “That is exactly vhat I did. You are very smart Harmony. Smart and strong.”

Hermione blushed at his compliment, tucking a loose curl behind her ear, and looking down at her textbook shyly. Still, she couldn’t fight off the smile that formed on her face at his praise. They were silent for a moment, both of them turning to their work to fill the time. Afterall, they were there to study.

Hermione was just finishing her chapter when Viktor spoke again, “Have you heard of the ball that is happening at Christmas time?”

Hermione looked up, finding an earnest Viktor staring back at her. “Yes, they announced it formally last night with some unfortunate dance lessons as well. Did you have something similar?”

“No, ve at Durmstrang learn how to dance first and second year. It is expected that ve know how, for formal events vhen ve are older,” said Viktor.

“How fortunate,” said Hermione. “I was lucky enough to have my dad teach me a bit when I was younger. My mum and dad like to play the radio in the kitchen and sometimes on Sunday mornings my dad will pull me away from whatever I’m reading at the table and make me dance with him.” She smiled at the memory, feeling a small pang of homesickness. It was high time she sent her parents a letter – with all her extra time spent with Fred and George her weekly letters home had dissolved into a dismal once or twice a month.

“That sounds very nice,” responded Viktor genuinely before clearing his throat and looking down at his folded hands on the table. “Perhaps you vould like to accompany me to the ball?”

“Pardon?” Hermione pulled out of her innocent musing of home with confusion. Surely, she must have heard him wrong because she could have sworn Viktor Krum just asked her to the Yule Ball.

“The ball – vould you like to go vith me?”

The question hung in the air – Viktor looking expectantly at Hermione as she tried to comprehend it. Viktor Krum wanted to go to the Yule Ball with her?

“Why?” The question blurted out before she could stop herself.

Krum blinked in surprise. He took a moment to mull her words before answering, “Vell, I think you are very pretty. You are very smart, and you have the heart of a fighter. Vhy not?”

Hermione was struck – mouth gaping and brain short-circuiting. Viktor Krum thought she was pretty. Out of all the girls in the school to pick, and there were many available girls as the ball was only announced the day before, and he chose her. Answer him you daft airhead, her brain screamed as she still delayed her response.

“Of course, if you already are going with someone then—”

“No, no. I’m not,” Hermione reassured him in a panicky manner.

“Then you are just not interested or…?”

“No—I just…Can I have some time to…think about it or something?”

Krum stared hard at her for a moment, before nodding with a small smile.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go with you—” Hermione sat forward, running her hands through her frizzy curls and pushing them out of her face as she rambled “—it’s just I don’t know you very well. Perhaps we should get to know each other a bit more first. It’s important that we know each other before we decide to go together, otherwise we’d get there and risk finding out that we can’t stand each other. But please don’t think that I’m just delaying an inevitable ‘no’ to be nice. I swear—”

“Of course, Herm-oh-nee. Take all the time you need. Until then, ve vill spend more time together. Yes?”

Hermione was grateful for the interruption of her nervous babbling. Any second longer and she was sure to make such a fool of herself that Viktor might rescind his offer. “Yes, I would like that.”

Viktor stood, collecting his things, and placing them in his bag. Hermione glanced at the large grandfather clock across the study area and noticed it was almost time for Charms. She stood too, placing her book in her bag. Once the two were packed up, they headed towards the exit of the library. It was just outside the large double doors that the two parted ways, headed in opposite directions of the castle for class. Expecting his usual bow of departure, Hermione was surprised when instead Viktor grabbed her right hand in his and brought the back of it up to his lips. She blushed something furious, her face growing hot as embers as his soft lips brushed the sensitive skin. Then he was gone, and she was left to gawk in his direction as a bubbling glee built up in her chest.

The joyous moment was cut short however by her two troublesome shadows.

“My, my, my…was that Viktor Krum?” asked one twin as the two of them rounded the corner.

“You know, you two really must stop spying on me. It’s getting sad and weird,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes and turning away from the two ginger boys as she headed in the direction of her Charms class.

“Excuse you missy. We were not spying. We were merely walking by and decided to stop and watch the show,” said who she now recognized as George.

“Hmmm,” responded Hermione flatly, continuing to walk.

“So, what did Viktor want?” asked George.

“None of your business George Fabian Weasley.”

“I’m wounded—” George held a hand up to his heart “—we simply want to be a part of your life, Hermione. You know, be good friends and all.”

“Sure, you do,” she grumbled.

“I don’t think she believed me. Back me up, Freddie,” said George turning to his brother.

Hermione waited to hear Fred’s familiar sarcastic quip and cheeky tone but was surprised when all he did was give a distracted hum. She turned her head, looking at Fred fully for the first time. Catching his hazel eyes, he looked at her with an indistinguishable expression. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest and the heat that had occupied her face shot south, leaving a burning sensation in her lower stomach. Oh no, thought Hermione quickly looking away from Fred and instead focusing on the grey stone beneath her feet. They reached the Charms classroom a moment later, much to her relief. She made to head into the room, but a long arm extended in front of her, blocking her path.

“I have class. Can’t you just save your routine till tonight? I’ll laugh and everything,” promised Hermione, trying her best to keep her voice light and not show the inner turmoil she was currently experiencing.

“About that – change of plans.”

“What? Are we not meeting at the usual place?”

“No, Fred and I have a bit of a surprise for you—” George looked to his twin with a pointed stare “—isn’t that right Freddie?”

Fred, who had been staring off down the hall, turned to his brother and nodded distractedly. If Hermione hadn’t been trying so desperately to get away from Frederick Weasley and into the safety of her classroom, she would have noted his odd behavior. But instead, she raised a curious brow at George.

“Right—” George stared at his twin with an odd expression before looking back down at Hermione “—meet us in the common room after dinner and make sure to bring Harry and Ron along as well. It’s really a surprise for all three of you.”

“Okay, yeah, we’ll be there,” Hermione said before ducking under George’s arm and disappearing into the classroom. She found Harry and Ron already seated a few rows back from the front and took her chair between the two of them.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” asked Harry as she stared down at the desk in front of her breathing deeply in through her nose.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she squeaked, before taking out her notebook and writing utensils.

It all made sense and simultaneously no sense at all. Fred was the person in her dreams. It explained the dancing certainly. It also explained the timing. The first time she’d had the dream was the night Fred found her in the hallway and walked her back to the tower. He had held her in his arms that night, even held her hand. At the time she thought nothing of it, but clearly her subconscious had been squirreling away those brief moments of contact and saving them to manifest in an entirely different way. No – this was not good. She didn’t like Fred! He was loud and obnoxious and troublesome. He wasted his potential and squandered his talents. Two things she wholeheartedly disagreed with. He pushed her buttons and got her into trouble. How could she possible like him as anything more than a friend?

The rest of the day went by in a blur, all of Hermione’s waking thoughts dedicated to Frederick Weasley in the worst possible way. By the time dinner was over and she found herself in the common room with Harry and Ron, she had come to decision. She did not like Fred. It was simply her subconscious playing a cruel trick on her. Dreams didn’t mean anything anyways – even if they did happen twice. Dreams were simply an amalgamation of your conscious memories and thoughts mixed into an incoherent jumble as your brain tried to process them at night. They weren’t accurate representations of ones waking feelings. They held zero stake in reality.

Unfortunately, that didn’t keep her heart from stopping when Fred and George emerged from the portrait hole with wide grins as they chuckled mischievously.

“What’s got you two so chuffed?” asked Ron, pulling a chocolate frog from his pocket, and opening the package.

“Just ran into Adrian Pucey in the hallway—”

“—struck him with a nasty sticking charm.”

“Won’t be going anyways for a while,” laughed George, leaning on the back of the couch to peer down at the work in Hermione’s hand. She’d dedicated this time in her day to working on the Canary Creams and was still determined to do so, change of plans or not.

“You can’t do that by the way,” stated George casually as he pointed over her shoulder to a bit of Charms work detailed on the page.

“Excuse you,” sneered Hermione, pushing his hand away. “And just why do you say that?” she asked taking offense.

“Because I’m the Charms master, remember?”

Hermione sighed, knowing begrudgingly that George was right. He was very well adept at Charms work – even better than herself. Slamming the notebook shut, she placed it on a side table and stood.

“Well – what’s this surprise then?” she asked digging into her pocket to distract herself from the two tall ginger boys in front of her. Her fingers closed around one of the hundreds of sugar quills Fred gave her and she pulled it out satisfactorily.

“The whole point of a surprise, my dear Hermione—” began George.

“—is to surprise you with it—" continued Fred.

“—not just tell you!” the two finished together before turning and heading back towards the portrait hole. Ron and Harry followed them, Hermione hanging back as she unwrapped the sugar quill and placed it in her mouth. She trailed behind the four of them as they traveled deeper down into the castle.

“Hey,” said Fred, dropping behind to walk beside her as George boldly led the way.

“Hi,” Hermione responded shyly, worrying the candy in her mouth to calm herself.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“You?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Hermione felt stiff and uncomfortable, like at any moment her skeleton would relieve itself from its fleshy prison, shedding her skin and running as fast it could from Fred and this painful conversation. The worst part of it was that she knew why she was being weird, but why on earth was he in such a strange mood? For a brief moment, the mortifying thought that perhaps he knew about the dream, flashed into her head, but she quickly brushed it away. That was impossible. There was no way he could know.

The four of them continued further into the castle, heading down stairway after stairway until they were in its deep underbelly. It was when they found themselves in a large, well-lit corridor – the walls adorned with portraits of food – that Hermione realized where they were headed. Harry seemed to have the same realization as he groaned, turning around the look at her.

“Hermione…this isn’t another S.P.E.W. thing, is it?”

“Please don’t let it be a spew thing, Hermione. How many times have I told you – it’s no use! House elves like to work!” exclaimed Ron.

“First of all, it’s not called spew—”

“Oh, what is it now then – the House Elf Liberation Front?” asked Ron sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare thank you very much, and secondly in case you didn’t remember, I’m not the one dragging us down here. They are!” She pointed to Fred and George who now held amused grins on their faces.

“Quit your fighting and come on you lot,” laughed George coming to a halt in front of a picture of a large fruit bowl and ticking the green pear. The fruit squirmed and giggled until it turned into a large green door handle. George grabbed hold of the handle and pulled the door open to reveal the cavernous kitchens. Hermione wasn’t quite sure what she imagined the Hogwarts kitchens would look like, but it definitely wasn’t the enormous space in front of her. With ceilings almost as tall as the Great Hall, it seemed to host everything you could even want or need to make a large feast.

“Harry Potter! Oh, it’s Harry Potter!” a squeaky voice yelled out before Hermione heard Harry let out a guttural yelp. Turning to her best friend she saw Harry standing there with a small house elf nearly wrapped entirely around his middle, holding him tightly.

“Dobby?” Harry gasped in surprise.

“Yes sir! Dobby has been waiting and hoping Harry Potter would visit him and now he has!”

Dobby released Harry, stepping back, and allowing Hermione to get a full view of the infamous house elf Harry had told her so much about. He appeared to live up to his description. Long thin nose and batlike ears. However, instead of the filthy pillowcase Harry had described, he donned the strangest assortment of clothing Hermione had ever seen. Dobby wore what appeared to be a tea cozy adorned with brightly colored badges on his head like a hat, a patterned tie with no shirt, shorts, and mismatched socks. However, despite his strange fashion sense, Hermione found Dobby to be quite appealing. His enthusiastic personality and overwhelming love for Harry was enough to make her fond of the little house elf – no matter how odd he was.

“What are you doing here Dobby?” asked Harry.

“Dobby works here, sir! At Hogwarts! Professor Dumbledore has given Dobby and Winky jobs!” proclaimed the small elf proudly. Hermione perked up at the mention of a second house elf she was familiar with.

“Winky’s here?” she asked looking around her to try and spot the poor disgraced house elf she’d met so many months ago.

“Thought that would interest you, Hermione,” said Fred in a knowing manner. “She’s over there by the fire. But be warned, she’s not in a great mood.”

“Or at least she wasn’t when we were here yesterday,” added George with a grimace.

Rounding the corner, Hermione was greeted with a large crowd of busying house elves. They bowed and greeted her kindly as she passed them, spotting a small and slumped figure on a stool by the fire.

“Winky?” she asked hesitantly.

The little creature turned, looking a complete and utter mess. While dressed unarguably more fashionable than Dobby, in a matching blouse and skirt, her clothes were dirty and wrinkled. One look and Hermione could tell she was a very unhappy house elf. That sentiment was only confirmed when Winky burst into large, hysterical tears.

“Winky, oh Winky, please don’t cry,” pleaded Hermione, rushing forwards and placing a hand on Winky’s shoulder. Winky only cried harder. Unsure of what to do, Hermione stepped to the side, allowing Harry to take the lead. She watched in rapt horror as Winky, Bartemius Crouch’s ex-house elf wailed at her failure as a good, loyal elf. The whole thing was so upsetting. So upsetting, in fact, that by the time they left the kitchens – after Harry promised Dobby about a thousand times that they would visit – she was in a whole new kind of bad mood.

“Cheer up, Hermione. Winky will be alright eventually,” said Ron casually as they strode through the halls back up to Gryffindor tower.

“It’s just absolutely horrid. I can’t believe that anyone has allowed this to go on for so long,” cried Hermione, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Now, now. You’re forgetting that house elves like to work. It’s their way. Their tradition,” said Fred, slinging an arm over her and squeezing her shoulder kindly. A gesture that would usually calm and reassure her, made Hermione jump out of her skin, pulling away from Fred and his touch that filled her with new sensations and confusion.

“Yes, and why is that Frederick? Because they’ve been used as slaves by wizarding kind for so long that they’ve been generationally brainwashed into thinking that working for nothing and being treated horribly is some sort of badge of honor!” she shouted at Fred, all of her conflicting feeling bubbling up into one unanimous feeling of anger.

Fred gawked in surprise before responding with equal annoyance, “Well if they were truly so unhappy, they would say so like Dobby. Clearly, they’re smart enough to think for themselves or Dobby wouldn’t be walking around asking to be paid for his work!”

“But even Dobby said he’s been looking for a job for over a year. No one wants to pay a house elf to do work when they ask for it! Don’t you think there should be laws to help him with that kind of discrimination?”

“Sure, but he’s different! If more elves wanted rights, then there would be a demand. But seeing as it’s ONE house elf out of thousands it doesn’t really make sense that they would rewrite legislature,” scoffed Fred.

“But if there was new legislature then perhaps they’d feel more inclined to break away like Dobby—” Hermione ran a hand over her hair, feeling it already growing ten times its size as her anger increased “—you know what? Clearly you are all either too thick or too heartless to understand.”

Pushing past their group she charged forward, determined to put some space between herself and the lot.

“Hermione!” one of the twins called after her.

“Just let her go. She gets like this, but she always gets over it,” said Ron.

“Hermione!” the twin called again, ignoring Ron’s comment.

Continuing to march ahead of them, she made it as far as the end of the hallway before a pair of arms wrapped around her middle and lifted her into the air. Hermione let out a cry of surprise and then a ragged grunt as her stomach made contact with one of the boys’ shoulders. Sputtering in indignation, she attempted to brush her hair out of her face enough to figure out who had the audacity to pick her up. Finally making a part in the curtain of her curls she saw Ron, Harry, and George laughing as they caught up.

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, you put me down right this instant!” yelled Hermione, pounding her fists on his back,

“You three go on ahead. Miss Granger seems to have her knickers in a horrible twist. Just needs a moment to decompress. We’ll catch up,” said Fred casually as Ron, Harry, and George looked down at her in amusement.

“Are you three really just going to let him do this?” Hermione asked, looking up at them with pleading eyes.

They pondered her request for a moment, before George gave her a sweet smile and bopped her on the end of the nose with his pointer finger. “Yep.”

Ron was next, rubbing a hand on top of her head and messing up her curls. “Good luck, Hermione,” he chuckled before disappeared around Fred.

Harry was last, smiling the widest. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. Sorry, Hermione,” he said giving her a small wave and disappearing as well.

Hermione listened to their fading steps as they turned the corner and left for the tower. Then, Fred began to walk, and Hermione let her head hang once again, tired from the strain of keeping it upright.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” she questioned, feeling all the blood in her body rush to her head.

“Hush now. No talking,” said Fred gripping her legs tighter. Hermione tried not to focus on the way his grip sat dangerously close to the top of her knee-high socks. Instead, she focused on the ground moving below her and the backs of Fred’s shoes as he walked down hallways and corridors. It felt like they’d been walking forever when he finally lifted her off of his shoulder and deposited her down onto the ground. She stumbled, all the blood rushing back to her limbs and making her faint. Fred caught her, grabbing her by the upper arms and keeping her vertical. After a few moments he released his hold, instead reaching up and brushing her messy hair out of her face. He smiled down at her as he did so, making Hermione’s heart stutter as he tucked the pieces behind her ears.

“So…” Fred sighed looking down at her and then to his left, staring hard at the wall. Hermione followed his gaze to see what he was staring at and realized just where Fred had taken them. It was the painting he’d found her at, those few months ago.

“Why…?” she drifted off, confused as to why he had brought her there of all places.

“Well last time I found you here you were upset. I figured it might be a good place to take you. Clearly something’s bothering you—” he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck nervously “—I’ll just…leave you to it then.”

He made to walk away but before Hermione could stop herself, she called out to him. Fred halted in his tracks and turned back to her. “You can stay…if you’d like,” Hermione said softly, turning away from him and sitting down gently on the cold stone. She heard the shuffling of shoes before she felt Fred take a seat next to her. Hermione stared at the painting with unwavering concentration. Just like last time, the field had metamorphosized into an entirely new vision. While previously it had housed a mixture of many flowers on a bright sunny day, now it showed her nothing but thousands upon thousands of purple lilacs with an overcast sky.

“Viktor Krum asked me to the ball,” Hermione blurted. She didn’t know why she felt the need to tell him. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone – at least not until she made her decision. But something about the moment, the painting, and it being Fred, made her want to tell him more than anything.

Hermione expected him to be surprised. She expected him to look at her incredulously – perhaps call her a liar. Instead he smiled and gave her a look that said: ‘I could have guessed that’ before asking, “Is that what’s got you all in a twist? Worried you made the wrong choice by saying yes?”

“I didn’t say yes.”

That did surprise Fred. “What? You said no then?” he asked, a glint in his eye that if Hermione knew any better, she could have sworn looked something akin to hope.

“No – I told him I’d think about it.”

Fred laughed.

“What?” asked Hermione defensively.

Fred wiped a tear from under his right eye before catching his breath and answering, “Nothing, it’s just…only you would tell an international quidditch player ‘maybe’ when he asks you to a ball.”

“I want to make sure his intentions are right.”

“What? Want to make sure he’s not just trying to get into your knickers?” asked Fred with another laugh.

“More like I want to make sure he actually likes me and isn’t just trying to get to Harry,” admitted Hermione with a whisper. Looking at her hands, she worried the inside of her bottom lip. She felt foolish for her confession, but Fred had the annoying ability to put her at such ease that she blurted out all her worries before she even knew what she was doing.

“Hey—” Fred brought a hand up, grabbing ahold of her chin softly and turning her to face him “—why would you think a silly thing like that?” He smoothed his thumb over her skin, pulling her lip from out between her teeth as he frowned at her.

“I just…why would he like me? I’m nothing special.”

“Nothing special? Hermione Granger, I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again. Nothing special, she says,” Fred scoffed.

“Well, it’s true! My hair is a ratty nest, I’m skinny and knobby, and plain and freckly—”

“What’s wrong with freckly?” asked Fred accusingly before breaking out into a wry grin.

Hermione laughed. “You know what I mean,” she said, aware now that Fred’s hand had never left her face. Instead it found it’s home cupping the side of her cheek sweetly.

“No. I don’t think I do because…well because when I look at you, Hermione, I don’t see a knobby plain girl with ratty hair.”

“You don’t?” Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat. Suddenly the space between them seemed much too close but not close enough. Fred’s eyes scanned her face, flitting from her forehead to her lips before landing back on her eyes as she waited with bated breath for him to speak again.

“No.”

“What do you see?”

Fred hesitated, swallowing audibly as his sight flitted once again from her eyes to her lips and back up. “I see a beautiful girl with a wild mane and an equally wild fierceness. I see a beautiful girl that any man would be lucky to take to the ball,” said Fred, his voice a low timbre.

Hermione let out a shuddering breath. “What if…” she began, but stopped, unsure of whether to say next what she wanted to.

“Yes?” asked Fred, pushing her on.

“What if…what if I didn’t say yes because I was secretly hoping someone else might ask me?”

Fred deflated at Hermione’s question. Releasing her face, he dropped his hand and looked off to the painting once again as he sighed. For a brief moment he thought he saw what looked like disappointment on Hermione’s face, but that couldn’t be. Not when she’d just confessed, she said no to Viktor Krum because she hoped Ron would ask her to the ball. Still, it was probably for the best. He was taking Angelina after all – he hadn’t asked her yet of course, but she had made it exceedingly clear after Professor McGonagall’s abysmal dance lesson that she expected them to go together.

“I was thinking purple,” said Angelina, leaning lazily into Fred’s side as he stared into the fire of the Gryffindor common room.

“Huh?” he asked dumbly, Angelina’s comment pulling him out of a deep concentration. He’d been thinking about Hermione. He was…always thinking about Hermione.

“For my dress for the ball. Purple – I like purple. It’s my favorite color, you know?”

“I didn’t know. Is it really?” asked Fred, looking down and wrapping an arm around Angelina’s waist.

“It is. I figured you’d want to know now so you’ll know how to match your dress robes.”

“I think…” began Fred, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. “I think that if you’re holding out for someone else and you’re not 100% sold on Krum, then you should wait.”

“Really?” asked Hermione, looking at him with those wide, Firewhisky brown eyes.

“Yeah, make Krum sweat it out for a bit. I’m sure he isn’t used to having to work for dates – it’ll be good for him. And it’ll give this other bloke some time, maaaybe he has something special planned for you.”

Hermione stared at him speculatively. “You say that as if you already know,” she said with an earnest, vulnerable expression on her face.

“I have it on good authority that by the end of next week you’ll have more than one invitation to the ball, ‘Mione. Trust me,” he winked, trying to keep a cool composure and not show the inappropriate disappointment he currently felt.

They continued to sit and stare at the painting above them for a while longer until Hermione broke the silence once again, “What about you?”

“What about me?” asked Fred, continuing to stare straight ahead.

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been…off today. Something bothering you?”

Fred breathed deeply. “You remember how we won all that money off Ludo Bagman at the world cup?” he asked.

Hermione nodded.

“Well, the arsehole paid us in leprechaun gold. We’ve tried to get in touch with him since, but he’s been dodging us and well…not only do we not have the money he owed us, but we also don’t have the money we gave him either. It’s why supplies are so tight for the business,” he admitted, remembering when Hermione had asked why they weren’t putting their development efforts into more than just one thing at a time.

The soft touch of Hermione’s hand on his brought Fred’s attention away from the painting. Briefly he looked down at the place where their hands were entangled. He should stop her. The touch while friendly in nature, did nothing to quell the stirring attraction in the pit of his stomach. But he didn’t. Instead he allowed himself to indulge in the small bit of intimacy. After all, it was innocent enough.

“Have you considered writing to him and reminding him just how serious unsanctioned gambling is in Britain? I’m sure he’d like to know how…consequential it would be if someone in the Ministry found out he’d been gambling illegally at the cup, especially with at least two underage wizards,” said Hermione.

Fred look at her incredulously. Had he really heard her say what he thought he did? “Are you suggesting blackmail, Miss Granger?”

“I’m just saying that if I were Ludo Bagman, I’d like to keep my job at the Ministry. How he chooses to do so, is entirely up to him.” She said the words so casually, you would have thought she was discussing an article in the Daily Prophet – not the plotting of blackmailing a Ministry official. But Fred didn’t miss the evil glint of mischief in her eye as she stared at him impishly. Good god, he did not deserve Hermione Granger.

And neither did his little brother, thought Fred as he sought out Ron that afternoon. It was Wednesday – a week and half till the ball and he had a mission. Despite his feelings towards Hermione and the thought of Ron being not nearly worthy of her, he knew that what Hermione wanted was for his idiot of a brother to ask her to the ball. So, he was going to make sure just that happened. He found Ron on the grounds, under a tree near the black lake with Harry and Hermione. Despite the snow and freezing temperatures, the three were huddled up arguing about something as a small blue flame floated near them. Wrapping his robes around him tightly, Fred trudged through the snow towards the three of them.

“What’s this then? Not you three freezing your arses off in the snow when there’s a perfectly good castle just over there!” he called out to them, breaking the small trio out of whatever spat they were in.

“Hullo to you too,” called Harry.

“What do you want?” asked Ron.

“Oi. Very rude! I can’t come and see my favorite baby brother?”

“Is it me that you want?” questioned Ron, sending a glance in Hermione’s direction.

“Actually yes—” Fred dug his hands deep into his pockets “—mind if we…” He gestured behind him and Ron stood with a huff – clearly put out by having to pause his conversation.

Fred walked a distance from where Harry and Hermione sat before he stopped and turned to Ron.

“What?” asked Ron again, looking down at him expectantly. Merlin, when did he get so tall? wondered Fred.

“Have you got yourself a date to the ball yet?”

“Why do you care mate?” laughed Ron, looking around like he expected George to pop up at any moment and pummel him with snowballs.

“I’m just saying, time’s running out and before you know it, the ones you really want to ask will be taken,” he said sending a purposeful look towards Hermione.

“What? Hermione? Don’t be ridiculous,” squeaked Ron.

It took every last ounce of his strength, for Fred to not throttle Ron for his stupidity. Here he was trying to do a nice thing for Hermione and subsequently his little brother and what did he get in return? He was Father bloody Christmas at this point.

“Listen – you can say whatever you want, but your little crush on Hermione—”

“—I don’t have a crush on Hermione—”

“—your little crush on Hermione isn’t as big of a secret to some. So, I advise you ask her before somebody else does.”

Ron scoffed, “Sure.”

“Hey—” Fred held his hands up in defeat “—I’m just saying. And now that I’ve said my peace, my moral obligation is done, and I can leave you to it. Don’t cock it up, mate.”

Ron looked at Fred like he was a strange creature from the depths of the Black Lake itself. “Okay…well if that’s all, I’m gonna head back. Weirdo…” Ron breathed the last sentiment as he turned away from Fred and headed back towards Harry and Hermione.

Fred shook his head, having the sinking feeling that Ron would, in fact, cock it up.

And he’d been right. Two days later and Ron had yet to ask Hermione to the ball. Even worse, he had it on good authority – from some gossiping third year girls – that Krum had approached Hermione on the grounds the day before. For all he knew, Krum had asked her again and the poor girl had said yes because at this point it was so close to the day of the ball that she probably thought Ron would never ask! Fred glared down at the parchment in front of him and then over to Ron who was seated on the couch between Harry and Hermione. Scratching a quick note onto a bit of spare parchment, he crumpled it and threw it in Ron’s direction. Ron picked it up, unfolding the note and reading it out loud.

“Hurry up and ask someone before all the good ones are taken. Who are you taking the ball then?” Ron asked in annoyance.

Fred looked from Ron to Angelina who sat at a nearby table with Alicia working on her potions essay. Crumpling up another piece of parchment, he sent it flying in Angelina’s direction. She looked up at him with a tired expression when the paper landed on a bit of ink not yet dried.

“What?” Angelina asked.

“Fancy going to the ball with me, Johnson? I think we’d make a rather good-looking pair.”

Angelina smiled widely, looking excitedly at Alicia before turning back to Fred and nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, I’d love to Fred.”

George clapped a hand on Fred’s back in congratulations which he gracefully took. Really it wasn’t the most romantic thing. Perhaps it would have been more romantic if Angelina hadn’t already decided they were going together. But at least he’d asked her. Fred shot a smug grin and wink in Ron’s direction. While the irritated expression on Ron’s face was expected, the look on Hermione’s face was not. She almost seemed upset as their eyes met momentarily, but before Fred could properly tell, she looked away.

“Say…Hermione…” began Ron.

Alright, not off to a great start, but it’s something, thought Fred as he listened closely.

“Yes?” asked Hermione, looking at Ron in trepidation.

“You’re a girl…”

“Very well spotted,” Hermione said, giving him a confused look.

“Well, why don’t we go together?”

Yes! He’d done it! Just when he thought Ron didn’t have it in him, he overstepped Fred’s expectations. Fred was almost tempted to walk over and pull him into a hug, but then all temptation was erased at what he heard next.

“Really?” asked Hermione in surprise.

“Yeah. I mean it’s one thing for a guy to show up alone, but for a girl it’s just sad.”

No…no, no, no. Fred groaned, laying his head in his hands. George winced beside him, knowing that a comment like that absolutely would not fly with Hermione.

“What makes you think I’d be going alone?” asked Hermione – a seemingly innocent question, but Fred knew that behind it, lurked only bad things for Ron.

“I mean, come on…” remarked Ron, faltering a bit when he saw the rage in Hermione’s eyes. Just when Fred thought it couldn’t get any worse…

“For your information. I won’t be going alone because somebody already asked me…” Fred looked up when Hermione hesitated. While he knew it wasn’t really any of his business, a part of him was wildly curious as to what the next thing she had to say was. Hermione seemed to agree with his involvement, for her eyes landed on him for the briefest of moments before she looked back at Ron and seethed her answer, “And I said yes.”

Christmas morning came without a hitch. The term had been over for nearly a week now and Fred could finally focus all of his time and effort into working out the remaining kinks of the Canary Creams. In fact, he’d spent the last week cooped up in the small classroom that was their work area, reading and brewing. George had been there quite a bit as well, but he often snuck out to the kitchens or to play a few rounds of exploding snap with Lee. Usually Fred would go too, but with the added company of Hermione he found he didn’t mind staying behind to continue working. Hermione had almost no qualms with spending most of her time hidden away in their workspace as she was still vexed with Ron over his disastrous attempt to ask her to the ball. While Fred felt bad that it didn’t work out the way he planned, he hated to admit that a small part of him was happy Ron wasn’t taking Hermione to the Yule Ball. She was too good for him, he told himself resolutely.

Fred rolled over in his bed and pulled back the curtains to see the sky still inky black. Winter mornings were always so bleak and dismal. He preferred summer when he woke with the sun. But still, the cheer and excitement that came with Christmas morning left him wide awake and so he sat up excitedly, ready to see what presents were waiting for him. The pile at the end of his bed looked its usual size except for a rather large box at the very bottom. He wondered for a moment who that could be from. Did his mother hit her head and forget they were poor? he pondered, reaching out and grabbing the first present from the top. Looking at the tag, he recognized it was from Angelina. He smiled, knowing with a chagrin that it was most likely sweets. She always got him and George sweets – despite Fred mentioning many times that he didn’t care for candy all that much. Tearing the wrapping, he was pleasantly surprised to find not candy, but a small golden compass for his broom. They had seen it in a shop last Hogsmeade weekend. Fred had innocently mentioned he’d quite like a compass for his broom, but never did he imagine Angelina would buy it for him. Amusedly, he thought of the present he got her. That same Hogsmeade visit she’d spent hours eyeing a scarf in a little side shop. When she wasn’t looking, he’d snuck back and purchased it for her. Placing the compass gently to the side, he dug into the rest of his presents. A big box of chocolate frogs from Lee, a sweater from his mum and dad along with some fudge, and a year-long subscription to Jokester’s Magazine from Alicia. All in all, a good turn out – but there was still one present he had yet to open. A big box that simply read: To Fred and George, From Hermione.

Fred reached for the box and then stopped. Looking over at the closed curtains of George’s bed, he wondered if he should open the present when it was meant for him and George. Really, he should wait for George to wake up and open the present together, thought Fred before grabbing the corner of the wrapping and tearing it open. Ridding the large box of its wrappings, he pulled off the lid of the box to reveal a number of small vials and boxes.

“What?” Fred pondered out loud.

“Oi! You started with out me, ya git,” grumbled George, pulling back his curtains and glaring at Fred.

“Come and see what Hermione’s got us Georgie. I’m not quite sure what it is.”

George groaned, rolling out his bed with a heavy thump of his feet and shuffling over to him. George stared down at the contents of the box and reached in. His fingers closed around a vial of deep blue color. Turning it over and reading the card attached to the top George read aloud: “Billywig sting—" George reached in and grabbed a box this time “—dried mandrake root. Freddie, I think the girls gone and bought us potions ingredients for Christmas.”

“Really?!” Fred asked excitedly, reaching down, and grabbing a jar of newt spleen. Sure enough, it looked like the box was filled with a bit of ingredients Fred had ever heard of and then a few he had not. This would help their progress more than he though Hermione even realized. Brilliant. It was just brilliant.

“We’re set for a while now, Freddie!” exclaimed George, sitting down on his own bed and beginning to open his presents.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Fred couldn’t wipe the grin from his face for the rest of the morning. With the knowledge that they were free to explore and experiment to their hearts desire, he was constantly reminded of one of the best Christmas presents he’d ever gotten. He meant to tell her as much too, but Hermione was distinctly missing from the breakfast that morning and the common room as well. When he finally ran into Ron and Harry and asked about her, they had said something about her getting ready for the ball. Ron had scoffed, still convinced that Hermione was lying about her date for the Yule Ball. While Fred was one of the few who actually knew who she was going with, he wasn’t going to tell Ron any different. Secretly he couldn’t wait to see the stupid look on Ron’s face when Hermione arrived that on the arm of Viktor Krum.

How could it possibly take her all day to get ready for a stupid dance? thought Fred as he settled into a game of chess with Ron. While his little brother walloped him, checking his king for the third time that morning, Fred thought of Hermione’s fantastic Christmas gift. Self-consciously he wondered if his gift to her matched up. What was a small book compared to all those ingredients? It must have cost her almost all her pocket money and then some. The rest of the day was spent in the common room, alternating between chess, exploding snap, and chatting with his fellow Gryffindors. The tower was much busier than any holiday Fred had spent at Hogwarts – the Yule Ball keeping everyone over Christmas break that usually would have gone home. It was a little after two when Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Ginny stated they were headed up to their dorms to get ready for the ball. He, George, Lee, Ron, and Harry bid they goodbye before deciding to take a walk around the grounds before getting ready themselves. The wind was bone chilling as they strolled from the castle to the quidditch pitch and back, leaving their faces tinged pink and raw.

By the time they got back, they had nearly an hour till the ball began and so, they all departed to their dorms to get into their dress robes. Fred’s dress robes were a standard black, but he’d purchased a purple tie a week ago via owl-order to match Angelina’s dress. Checking himself in the mirror one last time, he straightened his tie and smoothed down his long, ginger locks. George appeared in the mirror behind him, straightening his tie as well and giving him a shit-eating grin.

“I reckon we’ll be the best-looking blokes at the ball tonight,” said George definitively.

“Yes, but only if you mean I’ll be the best looking and you’ll be a close second,” quipped Fred.

“You both look like two huge identical prats to me—” Lee rolled his eyes, pulling at the sleeves of his baby blue robes “—now let’s go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get to hear the Weird Sisters play.”

Lee hadn’t shut up about the Weird Sisters playing at the Yule Ball since Dumbledore had announced it. Fred and George were excited too, but they didn’t hold quite a candle in their hearts for the band like Lee did.

The night went by quickly and spectacularly. The food was divine, the Weird Sisters were just as good as Fred imagined, and Angelina was as good a date as he could imagine for the night. They talked and joked and danced, never lulling into awkward silence like so many couple there that night. It wasn’t until Angelina excused herself to the restroom that Fred realized it was nearly eleven at night. Where had the time gone? Glancing around the marvelously decorated room, he saw George laughing loudly at something Lee had said near the punchbowl, Kenneth Towler was dancing slowly to a ballad with his Ravenclaw date, and across the room sat Ron and Harry looking miserable. Their dates had long since abandoned them, Fred noted, as they had failed to dance with them once – a missed opportunity as Fred acknowledged that both Padma and Pavarti Patil were very pretty girls. Unfortunately, Ron and Harry were just too preoccupied with Hermione and more importantly her date. When he failed to spot the duckling turned swan of the evening, he meandered casually out of the room and into the adjoining corridor where several students stood mingling. Traveling further down, he spotted a terrace door ajar and peaked through the glass to see Hermione standing by herself in the cold. Hands braced on the stone railing, she looked out into the dark expanse of the knight.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” exclaimed Fred, noting Hermione’s flushed appearance and looking for any signs of her turning blue. Luckily, the only thing blue about her was the fabric of her dress – a dress that every girl apparently adored that evening, for even Angelina had spent a fair bit of time discussing it with Alicia. Hermione truly did look beautiful. Everyone had been gossiping about her since the moment she walked into the ballroom on the arm of Viktor Krum. Her dress revealed a figure Fred had never seen before – one that was womanly and soft, her skin looked soft and dewy like she’d stepped out of a painting, and her hair had somehow been tamed into an elaborate updo with a few loose curls framing her face. Although, if Fred was being honest with himself, he preferred her hair the way it usually looked – wild and lioness-like.

Hermione jumped, grabbing ahold of the railing in front of her and bringing a hand up to her heart. Clearly, she hadn’t expected company out here and Fred didn’t blame her – only someone truly insane would be standing out in the cold like this without the proper robes. “Merlin Fred, you scared me!”

“What are you doing out here?” he asked again, stepping towards her.

“Nothing…Viktor went to get drinks and I needed a bit of fresh air,” said Hermione, but the way in which she worried her bottom lip, her deliciously tempting bottom lip, between her teeth told him there might be more. So, he stared at her, raising an eyebrow in question until she broke.

“Oh god, Fred. I don’t know what to do!” she yelled, bringing a hand up to her temple. She began to pace back and forth, the hem of her dress dragging in the snow that was beginning to build on the terrace.

Fred reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, halting her movements. “What happened? What’s the matter?” he asked, looking over her for any signs of physical ailments. Had Krum hurt her somehow?

“Nothing, well no that’s not true. It is something, but it hasn’t necessarily happened yet and I—”

“Just tell me why you’re out here trying to freeze to death, please Hermione,” said Fred, cutting her ramblings short.

“I…what if he tries to kiss me?”

Fred wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“I mean, you kiss him back. If that’s what you want and if it’s not what you want, then kick him in the shins. You’ve got a killer kick – I can attest to that personally.”

Hermione smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes, the golden amber color shining with worry. “I just…I was dancing with him and there was a moment where I thought he might kiss me and then someone interrupted us and so we didn’t. But I had the realization that he might try to kiss me again and I’ve never kissed anyone before. What if I’m bad at it, Fred?” she asked looking up at him with a desperate expression.

“It’s a first kiss – everyone’s first kiss is a little awkward,” reasoned Fred, trying very hard not to look at her plump pink lips.

“Yes, but what if I’m so bad that he never wants to kiss me again? I just…I don’t know what to expect or what to do and I—”

Before Fred could weigh the pros and cons of his actions, he was leaning down and capturing Hermione’s frantically moving lips in his own. The kiss was sweet at first, a firm yet gentle press of his lips to hers, but like a man thirsting in the desert, the moment he reached water he had to drink his fill. Reaching up, he cupped her face and deepened the kiss. Slotting their lips, he moved in slow measured movements. For her first kiss, Hermione was more skilled than she knew. Her lips moved naturally and achingly sweet with his, parting just enough for him to swipe his tongue along the crease and taste her. Later on, he would reason with himself that he only did it to shut her up. He’d go on to tell her, after breaking the kiss, that he merely did it so she wouldn’t be nervous for when Krum kissed her later – she’d be prepared and know what to expect. But in that moment, as he felt her soft skin beneath his fingertips and breathed in her essence, he couldn’t lie to himself. He kissed her because he was selfish. He kissed her because the idea of Krum being the first man to sample her sweet lips lit a burning fire of rage in his veins. He kissed her because he wanted to.

Chapter 13>>>

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[jon-astronaut]

hi! i don’t know if you already answered this (and im so sorry if you did!) but i was just wondering what your favorite and least favorite portrayals of all the skamverse characters were and why?

oh hi anon! i haven’t actually answered this ahahha all day i only answered when people told me their faves and never counted mine. this might take a long time to answer because i have to think and reply so long so sorry for replying late in advance...

eva:

favourite is lisa. she just started the whole thing and she was so real and authentic in her portrayal like everything she did felt so fitting with eva nothing less and nothing more. i would give a special shoutout to ludovica just cause she is my fave eva and i think she added a good comedic acting and edge to her character.

least fave might be alba not because she did so bad but because i didn’t connect with her character much. idk either the acting or the writing didn’t resonate with me she felt a little too plain. but maybe i need to do a rewatch. and anyway she grew on me.

noora:

favourite is nicole. she showed us how much nora faded away and a hollow ghost of her came forward throughout her seasons. the change in nore is apparent even in her posture, her tone.

least fave benedetta. kinda ironic because skamit is one of my top 2 remakes but yeah she didn’t work on me at all in s3. i didn’t buy most of her scenes which is a shame because she was good in s1 and she had good chemistry with the edoardo actor.

isak:

favourite is tarjei, definitely. there was something about his portrayal that made me feel like watching a documentary and no remake reached that level. he was so nuanced and a lot of his emotions were in the little mimics, looks and gestures. axel and michi are a close seconds.

i can’t choose a least fave here. i mean i like all the isaks in their own way. i don’t think any of them were like bad. i wish we got to see florian too. or or if we are counting lucas rubio is a isak remake then alejandro isn’t good as the extra clips show...sorry.

sana:

favourite is tua. she had the heart eyes for mohammed, she had such easy chemistry with him. but then she played amira’s anger and her pain and her pain through her anger in the henna party and the break up with mohammed so well.

least fave ugh maybe assa? this probably has more to do with the writing then her acting but idk there was something there that didn’t communicate her relationship with sofiane or her anger to me.

jonas:

favourite anselm. i literally spent the day praising him...the thing is while michi and lilly are easing into their roles in s1 anselm already seems to portray jonas so well. like he is so relaxed and natural in his role. and then he added a ton to jonas with his softness and his funny side. kudos to the breakup with hanna + coming out scene. with ludovico as a close second because he made giovanni his own too.

least favourite nathan bouts. i swear this has less to do with writing and more with acting. i find him similar to reiky’s jonas and while reiky communicated the loveable asshole vibes to me nathan didn’t. maybe he had better material to play with in s3 it would be different.

william:

favourite is nathan. i might like alejandro's william more as a character but nathan did the best with the not much changed storyline. he literally took the william we saw in og and added so much dimension like the softness with zoe, his voice when he is defending his views, his anger towards his brother chef’s kiss. chris veres is the close second here i mean even his comedic delivery is everything.

least favourite thomas. while trying to have him be this cold, popular guy i think he didn’t actually played well mostly just stood there with no expression. and that’s just no.

even:

favourite is henrik. really shows his power how no one was able to top him yet. i think in praising tarjei we forgot him but like i talked about all day THE LOCKER ROOM SCENE and how much he communicated with his eyes yup.

least favourite maxence. like i said he started bothering me on the rewatches and i realized they relied too much to his looks and natural charm of the actor. i might be biased here about rocco’s acting because i like nicco and marti and nicco so he is not my least fav.

yousef:

favourite is hassan who plays mohammed. maybe it’s because he had more heated arguments with amira about religion and their ‘breakup’ was more painful so i liked his portrayal much more. he just put something into the character like he defended his beliefs with as much fierce as amira.

least fave is lucas nabor who plays dani because spoiler! dani is yousef in skamesp. i will give him the benefit of the doubt maybe by the end of the season i could like his acting more and he does have good heart eyes but right now i don’t vibe with his acting much.

vilde:

favourite is lula. suffered through s6 for her acting’s sake (and for flavie’s) and she is just so good. the pain is in her eyes throughout s6, her breakup with basile was so heartbreaking. but also in earlier seasons she got daphne’s energetic and naive self so well.

least fave is nona who plays amber. idk i don’t vibe with amber and since wtfock cast put a lot into the characters even when writing is bad i think it’s more of her acting issue. it feels like there isn’t anything to her character and amber feels so one dimensional.

chris berg:

(not counting irene here) ah i would say fave is coline. i think she is the chris character that got the most material to play with (maybe why she is my fave) and she did the best out of it. but her scenes in s5 especially the one where she opens up is so nice i could read her emotions on her face.

least fave is nonexistent? i mean most of the time the chris character doesn’t get stuff to act with so like i cannot really judge the actors much when i haven’t seen much from them. and i just vibe with all chris versions.

mahdi:

fave is robin. s5 of skam fr might have gone downhill but robin had a really good performance that only got better throughout the season. especially the ending of the first ep where he looks over the street with his hearing faded away just the look in his eyes wow. honorable mention arda because his little improv lines with louis is amazing. he steals the backgroudn.

least fave again nonexistent because aside from robin and maybe francesco they didn’t get stuff to play with. i mean how can i judge dilan’s actor’s ability?

magnus:

fave is paul. his comedic timing is everything!! and most of that is improv so additional kudos. the way he stole a lot of background moments in s3!!! and s5 and s6 showed how well he could do drama too. when arthur tells him about his hearing the way his face crumbles - wow.

again no least fave because they don’t get material. like i may not like aaron as a character but i cannot say the actor does a bad job when he has to play one side of a character.

i think that about covers everyone!!! naturally i didn’t do anyone from druck or skam france new gen because this was just the versions.

i am so sorry that this is too long......but i cannot just name actors and not explain myself come on. and thanks anon for asking this i enjoyed typing out this a lot!

i also discovered something my fave version of the character doesn’t equal to my fav portrayal always. like nora isn’t my fav noora but she is my favourite portrayal. but jonas augustin and giovanni are my fav jonas characters interchangeably and anselm is my fav portrayal with ludovico following behind.

anyway let me know what you think about my answers!

[voidselfshipp]

La Mala Vida

Summary: medic finds out that living forever might be less of a hussle,and that maybe this century is worth saving.

Pt 2 here bcs Tumblr wont let me

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Life.

What do we do with it?people say it is what we want it to be, that the time we have to choose is limited because we dont live forever.

Josef would not agree with that statement.

Hes been living since the 18th Century, and after all these years everything seemed the same.

Its a rainy Day on teufort, why was someone like him still in there? After all the memories he had there.

He didnt quite now, maybe because its residents were quite literally Led poisoned idiots and nobody would suspect a thing from him.

--that would be five dollars Sir-- the Cashier said giving him the newspaper.

The german Man scowled and handed him the money taking it.

'Back in my zime zhe newspaper vas vay cheaper...' he thought.

He then goes to the nearby café, catching his reflection on the windowpane of said café.

He still looked quite handsome for a Man that is centuries old,he lived through Many things and yet there he was, alive and well.

He then sits against the Window minding his own bussines waiting to be attended.

He was so concentrated in the news that he didnt noticed the people that came in and out.

Nor the music playing.

But then, he looks up at the entrance, his face cant help but to contorn in a smile.

The newest generation has been quite of his interest as of lately.

The was something about zentenialls he couldnt quite put his finger on that caused him interest.

A generation that coped with problems with self depreciating humor, yet being able to form a revolution in the span of months in one single app,but also having the biggest of hearts for those in need.

'Siamo condannati alla brutta vida

Quería decirle, bambino

Que usted está trayéndose un flow bandido

Su secreto está guardao aquí conmigo

Sabe, yo respeto pero nunca olvido

Tarde, siempre tarde yo lo siento (wuh)

Les molesta todo lo que rondo

Devoluciones, no caigo en eso

Estoy buscándome yo los pesos, uh

Yo no quería que caiga preso (wow)

Regalito a la mamá, par de billes (par de billes)

Pa que se lo goce y de mí no se olvide (no se olvide)

Y la herida llevo aquí (llevo)

Dime tú si me vas a amar'

The lively music seemed to contrast with the calm ambience of the place.

Jerico pulls down the hood of her hoodie, she looks around for a place to sit, and goes to a far quiet corner of the place.

She sits down putting her bag close to her.

Her ears catch the melody playing and a homesick smile appears on her face tapping her feet to the rythm .

'La mala vida que me persigue

Los tiempos están cambiando y nosotros también

La calle está ardiendo, guiándome

Ni olvido ni perdón a lo que fuiste ayer

Mala vida que me persigue

Mala vida que no puedo salir

Mala vida que me persigue

Mala, mala

Fuck mala vida, mala, mala

Quería más de mí, pero no le di nada

Estamos nasty, curtiendo strada (strada)

Rompiendo tarima como si nada'

She was mouthing the lyrics of the song while softly rocking her body to it.

Medic catched a glimpse of this and smiled.

Finally they go and take his order, then the girls and the waiter dissapears behind the bar.

Jeris glance meets Josefs, she smiles and then goes down to her phone, a hand that was used as a rest for her cheek.

'Lo hacemos igual gore

Tenemos el peso en el pecho

Y aunque duela adentro, lo hacemos igual por los tiempos

Tiempos buenos, tiempo al fin

Tiempos malos que perdí (wuh)

Fuckin' mala vida, te escupo la face

Acuérdate de mí cuando me veas, no compro fake

Los fuckin' vis a vis me tienen maldecí

Estoy maldecía, no puedo salir

Regalito a la mamá, par de billes (par de billes)

Pa que se lo goce y de mí no se olvide (no se olvide)

Y la herida llevo aquí (llevo)'

He then looked back at his own stuff, the music, altough not his favourite was starting to get to him, and so his foot unintentionally started to tap following the beat of the song.

Now he wasnt the type of guy to dwell on his past, he only cared about defying modern science, well he did bring back a Man to life.

Good times.

He sighs, that smile that some found unnerving seemed to have warmed a little bit, the years were softening Him up.

Tough he feels someone watching him, his head turns to find the girl drawing on a piece of paper, what exactly? He couldnt tell.

Until her emerald green eyes met his, her cheeks flushed and looked away with a expression that screamed 'I hope the floor swallows me and never spits me again'.

He chuckled, and a side of him felt quite honored.

Maybe hed ask her for the drawing.

he drank his coffee and read the newspaper,the bitter taste of it wasnt as much of a kick in the mouth, they used to make them stronger too.

Meanwhile jerico couldnt help but dwell on her own problems while she waited.

The cold weather was rather relaxing to her, the cold and rain were always a comfort.

Though there wasnt much to do than wait right now, but shed find a way to entretain herself.

The café was too calm for her,way too calm.

But that is what happends when you used to live in a constant chaos, calm things seemed dangerous, a part of her really enjoyed this.

She sighs being absolutely bored out of her mind.

Her eyes look at the drawing that was just besides her.

Drawing that guy was fun, and the hairstyle did suit him well.

Her leg starts to bounce as she feels a familiar feel on her chest.

Maybe she should give it to him.

Or was it creepy? Did he even wanted it?

--miss heres your tea, and your pastries--the waiter said putting things down from the trail on the table--Anything else?

She shakes her head,the waiter asks her if she would want anything else, she says no.

She ends up paying her things and then enjoying them.

At least like that she doesnt have to go through the process of talking to anyone else than that waiter.

As she drinks though,Someone sits infront of her.

'Cant drink my tea in peace....' when she looks up however she jumps a bit on her Seat.

--Hallo-- the same Man she drew said-- I couldnt help but notice zhat jou vere drawing me,can I see?

The Man had his newspaper rolled under his arm, a huge smile and a coffee on his hand.

His accent, was rather cute, she thought.

--su sure!--Jerico smiles handing him the paper.

The Man looks at the drawing, and then smiles.

--Vould jou look at zhat! joure an true artist! Great job

Her chest warms and a huge grin appears on her face, her hands grip the tea cardboard Cup--thank you very much!

--Mind if I keep it?

--not at all!, I was hoping to give it to you actually,just didnt know if youd like it

--Are jou kidding? Of course id love zo! Oh wait im so stupid, I should pay jou for it ! Jour skills shouldnt be wasted.

As soon as he extends his hand with the Money jerico softly pushes it back.

Her hand had paint stains, yet the skin was soft and they were warm.

--No no please

--i insist!

--Take it as a gift Will you?

He then puts the money away, and nodds-- ah yes,jour generation is good at convincing people, plus good at arguing okay, I Vill keep my money,oh im josef by zhe vay...and zhanks

He extends his hand and she shakes it.

--Jerico

-- vhat a lovely name,vell I should get going , rain is going to get vorse and its a long valk home...lovely zalking vith jou jerico!

Jer smiles -- it was nice to talk to you too

Josef takes the drawing a leaves.

She just sits there, what just happened???

Thats enough interaction for today.

When she finished she grabbed her things and Walked home, the rain poured without mercy, she should have brought an umbrella.

She puts on her headphones and walks faster to the bus stop.

That of course had no FUCKING roof.

luckily the music drowned out the pesky conversation that a guy who obviously didnt know how to take a hint tried to start.

'Fuckin' mala vida, te escupo la face

Acuérdate de mí cuando me veas, no compro fake

Los fuckin' vis a vis me tienen maldecí

Estoy maldecía, no puedo salir

Regalito a la mamá, par de billes (par de billes)

Pa que se lo goce y de mí no se olvide (no se olvide)

Y la herida llevo aquí (llevo)

La mala vida que me persigue (yeah yeah yeah)

Los tiempos están cambiando y nosotros también

La calle está ardiendo, guiándome

Ni olvido ni perdón a lo que fuiste ayer

Mala vida que me persigue

Mala vida que no puedo salir

Mala vida que me persigue

Mala, mala

Está cayéndome lo que nunca te dije yo

Estoy creyendo que los buenos son los malos'

As soon as the music ended she no longer felt the water falling on her , she looks up.

Josef.

He held the umbrella close to her.

--Hi-- she sheepishly said taking off her headphones.

--Hallo frau,vaiting fot zhe bus I see?

--Yeah, thanks for the umbrella though...should have brought one with me...but didnt...

Both share a giggle.

[lukatheselkie]

HMC- Music is the language of feelings

@hetaliamondaychallenge

Here’s my other one for today! This completely got out of hand, I had no intentions of it being this long, but here we are. This one follows the prompt a bit more loosely, but it’s still there if you squint!

Pairings: Triangle poly pairings this time! FinGerPan, and mentioned DenPruCan

Warnings: Alcohol mentioned briefly, a makeout session, lots of sexual stuff, but no actual sex. I can’t believe my ace self made something this risky 😂

(Kiku’s accent is PRECIOUS. Though I don’t feel like I did him justice 😭)

    Tino flushes slightly when Kiku places a hand on his thigh. He sends a half hearted glare at him, glancing around the meeting room to make sure no one else knows what’s happening. Once he’s certain the action has gone unnoticed, he lays his head on Kiku’s shoulder to quietly scold him. “What do you think you’re doing? You know we’re both going to be incredibly embarrassed if anyone sees your hand there.” There’s a gentle squeeze from Kiku.

    “No one wirr notice. Rudwig won’t ret them.” TIno laughs softly. He doesn’t want to know what Kiku knows about Ludwig to be able to blackmail him like that,—it’s definitely blackmail, there’s a gleam in his eyes—but he’s thankful for it.

    “If you’re sure,” he hums out, straightening himself back into a sitting position. He places a hand on top of Kiku’s, and focuses his attention back on the meeting. Most everyone looks bored, as it’s been going for a few hours, but it’s close to the end. A few of them even come out of their imagined worlds to stare at the clock. Gilbert looks the most excited. Tino isn’t quite sure why he comes to the meetings anymore, but figures it’s to help him feel included.

    “Dismissed,” Ludwig finally says, causing most everyone to jump up.

    “Vait guys! Everyone ist invited to a party at mine und Ludvig’s house!” The younger German sighs, but doesn’t complain. They must have talked it over already. Good to know Gilbert doesn’t always do without thinking first. Tino was starting to wonder.

    “Yeah! Party!” Mathias tosses an arm over Gilbert’s shoulder. Tino rolls his eyes slightly, smiling at his antics. He looks over at Kiku apologetically.

    “Mathias is likely going to drag Lukas, Emil, Berwald, and I to the party. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I don’t think I have much of a choice.” Kiku smiles sweetly at him, and brushes a strand of hair behind his ear.

    “I don’t mind coming with. We can sneak off to be arone together.” Tino’s face lights up. That sounds wonderful. Suddenly, he’s excited for this party.

~

    Kiku takes Tino’s hand and leads him to a quiet room a decent distance away from the blaring music. They can still hear it, but it’s more of a background noise now. Kiku spins around Tino, laughing, and they launch into a dance that doesn’t match the upbeat music from a few rooms away. But they don’t care. They’re with each other, and that’s all that matters at the moment. Except… They both feel like something is missing. Tino is the first to voice it. Well, this time. It’s a conversation they’ve had in the past. The context changes depending on the situation they’re in, but the main point never differs. “I wish we had a third person to dance with.” Kiku smiles sadly at him, and leans in to kiss his cheek.

    “I do too.” He presses their foreheads together, sorrow flitting around in his chest. He knows Tino feels it as well, judging by his stiffness. He always goes stiff when he’s thinking about this. “We wirr find someone.” He gives him a reassuring smile. Tino smiles back at him, but it’s not as confident as his boyfriend’s. “Maybe we can find someone here.”

    “You really think so?” He perks up, smile brightening a bit. They’ve both wanted to add a third for so long. He furrows his brows slightly. “But who?” Kiku presses his lips to Tino’s lovingly, trying to stop him from overthinking.

    “We don’t have to worry about that right now,” he whispers when he pulls away. “Ret’s just dance together. I have a srow dance song prayrist on my phone. I made it just for us.” Tino’s chest warms with happiness. He grabs Kiku’s hand and squeezes it.

    “That sounds absolutely amazing, Hani muru (Honey crumb).” The shorter man blushes, and hurries to pull out his phone. He places it on the floor nearby, and starts the playlist. They’re all slow love songs, and they both love every second of dancing together to them. Even if neither is very confident in his dancing abilities. Each and every lyric is special to them.

    When the playlist ends, they’ve gone from elaborate dancing to slight rocking while staring deeply into each other’s eyes. At least an hour has passed, if not two, but the sudden lack of their music reminds them of the party happening beyond their personal bubble. The music is still going, though it’s much more relaxed than it was when they started the songs that drowned it out. Kiku picks up his phone, frowning a bit at his battery percentage, and pockets it. Tino wraps an arm around his waist and kisses the top of his head. “That was wonderful. Thank you for tonight. I’ll never forget it.”

    “I wirr cherish it forever.” Tino smirks, a thought coming to mind. “What’s that rook for?”

    “We could make it even more of a night to remember, you know.” He lightly flicks Kiku’s waistband, causing him to flush crimson. “Only if you want to, of course.” A quick nod is all it takes for him to pick his lover up and press him against the wall, kissing him needily. Kiku wraps his legs around his hips, and tangles his hands in his hair. Tino’s hand finds its way under the fabric of his shirt, and he gasps when he feels fingers brush over his nipples. This gives the taller of the two an opportunity to shove his tongue into his mouth, which he gladly takes.

    The wall they’re on shifts, and they realize too late it’s actually a door. They tumble out into the hall, on top of someone. Kiku squeaks indignantly, blushing even harder at the warm, broad chest now pressed against his back. Tino pulls away from the kiss slightly to see just who interrupted their makeout session, scowling a bit. His expression quickly turns to an apologetic one when he sees Ludwig beneath them. He hurries to scramble off of them, tugging Kiku up with him. “Mr. Germany!” The dark haired man yelps, hiding his face in Tino’s chest. He wraps his arms around him protectively, eyes narrowing.

    “Why aren’t you watching your brother? You wouldn’t want him getting too drunk.”

    “I could say ze same zing about jou vith Mathias!” There’s still shock on his face, but at least he mostly has the blush under control now.

    “Berwald is watching him.” Your move he says with his eyes, clinging tighter to Kiku.

    “Berwald got drunk und passed out an hour ago. I zink Mathias vas driving him mad. Lukas is vatching Arthur, Gilbert, und Mathias now. Vhat are jou two doing, making out in my study?” Is that where they were? Tino hadn’t bothered to look around. He was too enchanted by Kiku. He huffs slightly, shaking his head.

    “We escaped from the party when it first started. It’s nicer here. Berwald passed out? I have to tease him about that later!” Ludwig furrows his brows slightly. He runs a hand through his hair out of habit to fix it, and Kiku notices he looks a bit more disheveled than usual.

    “Zat doesn’t answer my question as to vhy jou vere making out.” Tino’s anger comes back, but he doesn’t let it show. Much.

    “Be glad you came in when you did. A minute later, and you would have seen more.” Kiku whines loudly, embarrassed. He whispers into his love’s ear, as quietly as he can.

    “Don’t terr him that! And don’t ret me think about that. I used to want him to make me scream until I went hoarse.” He raises his brows, glancing up at Ludwig. He’s definitely handsome. And muscular.

    “I can see why,” he whispers back. “Though I would rather make him scream himself hoarse.” The noise that comes out of Kiku is a mix between a giggle and a gasp. Ludwig stares at the two of them, perplexed.

    “Vhat are jou saying to him?” Kiku hums in thought. After a moment, he brings his mouth back up to Tino’s ear.

    “So we’re agreed, then? We try to bring Rudwig into our rerationship?” He nods, laughing a bit when Kiku smiles; it tickles against his ear.

    “Oh, nothing much. Just how it would be nice to make you scream as you make Kiku scream.” Ludwig’s face goes pale, then red, then pale again. It stays there for a few seconds, before deciding red is where it wants to be. “We’re polyam, you see. We’ve been looking for a third person to bring into our relationship.”

    “We won’t pressure you into it, but the option is there if you wourd rike to take it.” Ludwig stares at them for a long moment, running their words over in his mind. Polyam. Gilbert has taught him about that. It’s not something he’s against, but he never would have thought he would be invited into a relationship. He’s had a mild crush on Kiku for years, but didn’t say anything because he’s with Tino. The Finnish man is attractive enough. A bit chubby, but so is Kiku, though maybe not quite as much. Apparently he has a type. But it’s the other thing he said that brings him pause.

    “Vhat do jou mean, make me scream?” Tino’s eyes glint, and he licks his lips.

    “I'm not submissive. Not in the least. I don’t plan on ever being submissive. But you still have an opportunity to be dominant.” Kiku perks up, and smiles brightly at him.

    “I wirr submit to you! Of course, we aren’t going to be strictry sexuar. We both want someone to be with emotinarry too. Though sex is rather nice.” Tino nods his agreement.

    “We want someone to love, more than we want anything else. Think about it. We’ll wait for you, Ludwig.” He winks at him, then gently tugs Kiku elsewhere, so they can finish what they started. The German stares after them, mind racing.

~

    “I zink jou should do it.” Gilbert is upside down on the couch, head on the ground and feet dangling over the back, where his head should be. “It’s really eye opening. Jou don’t realize how closed off ze human views ve follow are until jou defy zem. Zis ist ein I vould recommend defying. Ve’re practically immortal beings, Vest. If most humans can’t go zeir lives loving ein, how are ve supposed to? It’s so freeing to be in a non-monogamous relationship. Look at Mathias, Matthieu, und I! Ve’ve never been happier. Ve love each ozer so very much.” His voice clouds over with emotion. “I’m gonna go call zem. I miss zem.” He somersaults off the couch, and practically runs to his room. Ludwig blinks after him. Well, that’s not the answer he was hoping for, but probably the answer he needed.

    “I can do zis,” he mumbles to himself, walking to the landline. He knows it’s not very practical nowadays, and he doesn’t use it very often, but this feels like a special moment. One that would be enhanced by one of his special occasion habits. He dials the number to Kiku’s house without a second thought, having memorized it long ago. He just hopes that’s where they’re at today. Thankfully, he’s in luck. The line clicks alive, and Kiku’s voice comes through.

    “Herro? Rudwig? Why are you calling the landline?” Ah. He meant to call his cellphone, but that’s not the one he has memorized. “Is something wrong?” He shakes his head quickly.

    “Nein! Nozing is vrong. I just… Is Tino zere vith jou?”

    “Mm, he is.”

    “Can jou put me on speaker?”

    “One moment.” There’s a shuffling, and Ludwig takes a deep breath. This is it. This is his opportunity to back down. “Okay. Say what you wanted to.” Or continue forward.

    “I’ve zought about jour offer. A lot, if I’m being honest.” It’s been a little over a month since that interaction, and he’s barely slept from thinking about it so often. Mostly, he’s been fantasizing what it would be like. At first, he thought they might all link hands as they walked, but GIlbert informed him that leads to bumping into things. More accurately, they would switch who was in the middle every time. And, though he didn’t want to think about it because of his uncertainty in it, he’s thought about how sex might work. Between him and Kiku, him and Tino, and all three of them. He’s certain all three will leave him feeling safe during such a vulnerable act. That’s something he’s always worried about, at the back of his mind. If he’s safe or not when he’s being vulnerable like that.

    “You have?” Tino’s voice asks. It’s a bit further away than Kiku’s, slightly muffled, and his mind immediately goes to the gutter. He’s probably just cuddling a stuffed animal! He doesn’t believe that, but he repeats it to himself mentally.

    “Ja. Und…” He can’t bring himself to say it. He so desperately wants to, but he can’t. What if they’ve changed their minds? What if they do get together, and he messes it up?

    “Rudwig. If you’re worrying, don’t. We wirr teach you anything you want or need to know. And we haven’t changed our mind. If anything, we want you to join us more.” It’s unfair, how Kiku always knows what he’s thinking. But it settles his unease enough for him to say it.

    “I vant to try. Danke for jour vait. I know zat must have been bozersome.”

    “Not at all!” Tino’s closer to the phone now, and his mouth is full, which doesn’t help Ludwig’s dirty thoughts. “It can take a long time to decide if polyamory is worth trying. I’m just glad you are willing to give it a chance.”

    “Hai! I’m happy you want to try! We both are!” He giggles. “We were just about to go on a romantic vacation. Wourd you rike to go with us?” He feels his face heat up. A romantic vacation? He really shouldn’t… He has tons of work to do. But his body tingles warmly at the thought, and he knows there’s no use fighting what he wants.

    “Zat sounds wonderful.” He lets himself smile freely for the first time in a long time. Maybe Gilbert is right. Speaking of Gilbert… He rolls his eyes at the music drifting from his room. It’s an incredibly sappy love song, likely coming from Matthieu’s end of the three-way call, but it makes his heart even lighter. The perfect song for the perfect moment.

[polygamyff]

49. Part 2

Now we both quiet, I disagree with Robyn totally on this she is being deluded about my mother that is still with my dad for money, I know that, I mean the whole world does but my girl wants to be like this, she is probably acting out because she is stressed out. What young woman would want to be with an already old man, it’s money and I don’t care. Looking over at Robyn, she is angry. With her arms folded and the frown, she is very angry over something she didn’t need to say anything about, Mami has been there for me when I was ill, doesn’t she understand this “stop looking at me” Robyn said, I sighed out “I don’t want to argue with you over this” I really don’t want that, I want us to get on “but she’s not coming to the home, that is the issue and the issue will remain Maurice. Maybe if you were not so damn disrespectful towards the woman that pushed you out then maybe I may have but no, I just cannot do it. I cannot allow it” well this is an issue then “the home is also my home too; I just think you need to let it go. My mother was useless, some people are better parents” Robyn put her hand up “you would have replaced me and took my child, your attitude is that nasty” clearing my throat shaking my head “this is why I respect you Robyn, you care. You are more of a woman then my own mother, you would kill me first before I take Reign, I love you for that. You would fight me, that is love. She did not love me enough” that is the truth “how do you know she does not love you!? The golden fucking boy, the key to the company, she didn’t love? That is utter fucking bullshit Maurice, you are so wrong, and I do not want to hear it, this is not happening Maurice. I am sorry” I guess we are going to agree to disagree on this “mhmmm” some battles I am not going to win but I will have to work on Robyn “I love you though, and I do mean it when I say I respect you a lot for the way you are. I do respect your opinion too, I don’t want you to be upset with me either” rubbing my chin, I know Robyn is angry as shit so I am trying to calm her ass down “well I guess tonight will be fun” that means she is going to continue it.

Looks like they are here, I can see from the glass in the meeting room they have arrived. I can see Jay’ big ass head “well your family are here, I guess your hate can leave for a while” sitting back in the seat “are you going to leave me now? Because we argued” shaking my head “never, I respect you. I told you this” watching Robyn’ body language soften as she sees these people, she is not frowning anymore so that is a good thing “come in” Jay opened the door, Robyn looks so nervous right now “it’s ok” grabbing her hand “sit here” Jay pointed at the seats, Rell’ mother walked around Jay and literally came over ever so close “woah, hey. Please stay here” Robyn’ eyes widened as this lady came close enough “oh hello, I am not here to scare you. I am Daphne, I will not hurt her. Hi, oh my god! I felt it in my heart, I felt in my heart my son was living on. I knew god would answer my prayers, god did. Look at you, you are so beautiful” Daphne is so emotional, she is actually holding a bible too, she must be religious as hell “mom, please sit down” her son said, Robyn swallowed hard not even saying a word. I can only imagine how she feels right now, it’s a lot to take in. Just seeing this woman that is actually your grandmother, it’s a lot for her. Robyn gripped my hand as I held hers, she is nervous “wait outside” I said to Jay “we are ok here” smiling at him “I will be out there, I have your keycard” nodding my head.

Daphne is staring at Robyn in awe and Robyn is looking in fear, she is so nervous “so erm, shall we just introduce each other to everyone?” I asked, I might as well help them do this “yes, yes. I am Daphne, I am Rell’, he was my baby” she said as her voice broke “Wesley Romano” the father said “Kiano, it’s nice to meet you” the no emotion man speaks “are you going to tell them?” I said to Robyn “oh I’m Maurice, her fiancé” I added “Robyn” she said in a whisper “just like Rell, beginning with an R, how are you?” Daphne asked “Filia eius vere sunt idem quaerere” Wesley said to Kiano “what did he say?” Robyn was quick to ask me “erm, he said you’re really his daughter. You look the same” Kiano’ face softened, he didn’t think I would know “Robyn, you need to stop being so quiet. I know they don’t know you but come on” I said in a whisper, Robyn is staring at me for help like I can carry on speak on her behalf. She looked away from me and at them “I am ok, just a little scared. Nervous” she needs to speak “I am too, I am so happy to see you. I felt it in my heart, I saw the TV and god blessed me. I don’t want to scare you, but I am so happy” catching Wesley wipe his eye, he is emotional “it’s ok” Robyn said in a whisper “did your mom never tell you Robyn? Beautiful name, it reminds me of my son” Robyn shook her head “I found out just recently, it was a shock to me. Don’t think I am being rude, but I am just trying to sink this in, I know you are too but it’s just scary. I thought this man was my father, he was good to me and then he isn’t. I am not being rude, but I am just thinking too” moving my hand away from Robyn “thank you for letting us see you, you didn’t have too. It’s emotional to see” Wesley said but put his head down “so what do you do?” Kiano asked Robyn “you moved here recently” Robyn nodded her head “and I am surgeon at the trauma unit at the king’s county hospital” Daphne gasped and both grandparents looked at each other looking ever so proud “that is amazing Robyn, wow. A surgeon huh, who would have thought that. Wow” Kiano looked taken a back “my brother would have been so proud, wow. I am amazed by it” I grinned proudly at Robyn “thank you, I didn’t think I would have got that far. When I told my parents what I wanted to do, my mom believed in me, it was a hard journey but to be a surgeon at this age, it’s amazing. Everyone that sees me are like you’re twenty seven, and a surgeon? I just passed my test papers like they were nothing, everything just seemed so easy, but yeah. Thank you” Robyn is finally speaking “Exaltabitur cor vestrum, which means I am proud of you” Wesley said, Robyn shyly put her head down, they are really so proud of her.

Smiling at Robyn “so are you Latino?” Robyn pointed at Wesley “erm yes my mother is Latino, my father left me when I was five. I didn’t know him, so I grew up in a strict Latino family, my dad is black. I don’t know him, but I speak a lot of Latin and English. I met Daphne, she reminded me of my mother a lot, so we got married, and we had five children. Rell being our youngest, this is Kiano, he would have been the youngest, but she fell pregnant again” Wesley laughed “we have so many babies now, but that was it. I have five children in my heart, I got three boys, two girls and” he went quiet putting his head down “I am still heartbroken till this day, my son gone like that but seeing you. My heart feels healed, things got so bad we divorced, and it was a bad time. I thank you so much for seeing us, I wish we know before, the love we hold here” he placed his hand over his heart “it’s big, we don’t know you, but you look just like him and I hope we do get to know you more, that is up to you” Wesley is a nice guy, maybe the cartel thing is a joke “I would like to know more about my dad, how was he?” Robyn is asking questions “shall I get the picture out?” Kiano said “please, oh he was so mischievous, he was a good boy Robyn. He was never bad, he was mistaken. Oh he was very shy too, I goes Wesley he has no girlfriend, where is it” Daphne said laughing and so did Robyn “and then he told his sister he met your mother, my sister said he was over the moon. And I do kind of remember her but it was blurry but that was the first time I found out he had a girlfriend; I think your mom was his real relationship but he was so shy” I feel like Robyn is more into this now “my mom said he wasn’t a bad guy, she said the stupid man was in the wrong place. She said they argued about the situation that night and she was going to tell him about me but then, it happened and to hear how you all speak on him, I wish I knew him you know. I am mourning this man I don’t know” Kiano got up from the chair and made his way over to us “this is my brother at six months out, we was laughing at him as kids” Kiano placed his phone down, looking down at the phone seeing the baby picture “he had a bald patch at the back of his head so our older siblings were laughing, he was so upset because they was laughing and he didn’t understand” he does look upset “no way, Reign had the same bald patch right there, oh my god” Robyn placed her hand over her mouth “oh my” she said in a whisper “she really did, that is weird” I said, it’s literally the same spot as his.

It was nice to see picture of her dad, Robyn looks a little emotional “this is weird, I do understand but I want to make sure we make you as comfortable as possible. Your dad was a good man, I cannot speak on the family around us on what they are like but I can speak on my kids, and we are good people. He was my bonus baby that I love so much, and I am so happy to meet you. I feel whole, I felt it in my soul there was something missing, you both have a daughter?” nodding my head “I do, Reign-Texas, she is nine months. After seeing those pictures, you know. She looks like me, she has his ears, but she is my mini me and I see Rell in her, it’s really got me shocked. I have my mother’ eyes but he is me and I just, I am sad I don’t know him, but I feel happy in a way. I am glad I met you, I feel at peace too” Daphne cooed out “can I see a picture of her? Please?” she asked, Robyn looked at me “I left my phone at home” letting out an oh unlocking my phone “I can show you” sliding across my apps “are you both married?” Wesley asked “erm, not right now” tapping on the latest picture I have which is her first day at day care “oh you said fiancé” getting up and reaching my phone over to them, Kiano grabbed my phone “she is beautiful, my brother a grandparent. You know, this is so nice to see. That little nigga never left my heart” nodding my head “he is my brother, like no matter what shit he did. I told him, I said for him to stop but he didn’t. if I could have him here, I would drag him to help him. He was being stupid, he got caught up but he’s my blood, nobody can hurt my blood and upset my blood but me, we were angry. And yeah, I love my family” that hit me, I thought of Malik straight away “oh she is so precious, you can tell she is a diva. That cheeky smile, oh she is beautiful” Daphne complimented.

Sitting back down in my seat after getting my phone from them “I would love you for you to see the rest of the family, they all wanted to come but I got chosen. You think we can see you again? Tomorrow? We came out here for you and my mom has had enough fun for today, she is old and needs to rest up. I am asking on behalf of them, we want to get to know you, get to know my brother’ daughter. If you don’t want too then I also understand, it’s a lot to think about” Kiano said, Robyn looked at me and I shrugged “up to you” I said to her “we can meet at a restaurant, if you would like tomorrow?” so she does want to see them “we can do that, if we can exchange numbers so we can just contact you?” watching Robyn’ grandparents holding hands, they looks so relieved and happy “I don’t know it off by heart my number, Maurice give Kiano my number” moving my eyes away “uh yeah, ok” unlocking my phone to get Robyn’ number “it’s just mind blowing, I am in shock still. When you are in California, please come to see us. You have to come, no bad intentions just want to show you your family, show you where your dad is buried” I wonder if Robyn would actually want to see that “I would like that” Robyn is shocking me every moment right now. She was so scared at first and now she is like yes I will do this and that.

Jay escorted them out, we didn’t do no handshaking or hugging just a simple bye “your grandparents are cute together, I don’t see why they broke up. The mother is very emotional, she is very in touch with her feelings. And I remember you told me that, you are too” I know Robyn told me that “I am” pushing my chair back “so” I dragged out “tell me, how you feeling after this? Good? Not nervous? Come on” Robyn smiled “erm, it went better then I thought. It was emotional, I feel a lot better than I did with Thomas. When you kept saying Cartel, I thought they are going to be so mean to me, I am not going to like them, but they are so kind, I see me in him and that is what scares me. I mean ok, I got my mother’ eyes so people jump on the I look like my mom but, him. I get it from him, it’s just wild to me. I feel happier, happy I met them” Robyn nodded her head “yeah, I happy” I cooed out “I am happy for you and I don’t really have an issue with what I saw, with what I met. They are very genuine people. Very heartbroken after all theses years with what happened to Rell. I think it was one of those things, he was hanging with that crowd, and by the sounds of it he was a very shy guy and it’s a real shame but, we will see what tomorrow brings huh?” Robyn looks very happy and I like that.

[j--meat-hook--j]

Taiyuu round 3: Villains aftermath

Zeke was sitting on the sidelines cheering on the rest of 1A when the birds went silent. 

Thinking back on it, Zeke thought there were an unreasonable amount of birds at Taiyuu.

BOOOOOM

The PE facility went up in flames.

BOOOOM

1A’s classroom collapsed into a pile of rubble.

BOOOOOMM

The Dorms were reduced to ash.

BOOOOOOOOOM

The Makeshift buildings that Laccadaisy had made, burst into dust. At the exact places Zeke felt the buzz of an unknown electronic device. 

The rest of the day was a blur. Aurora and Buckskin escorted Zeke and the other students to safety, telling them that everything would be alright. But Zeke knew better, he knew he could have stopped this. Every explosion, every pile of rubble, every gust of ash started from a Buzz, a buzz of electricity Zeke could have stopped. 

Zeke couldn’t remember how long he walked for, the only sounds being footsteps and distant explosions. The destruction of Taiyuu sparked the greatest fear Zeke had, the fear of nothing.

Rather the fear of not existing to be precise.

Oceans, Mountains, even planets, they all come and go in the mere blink of an eye. Even if we as a species manage to survive the combined threats of global warming, internal cooling, a dwindling magnetic field, asteroids, solar flares, rogue black holes. Nothing changes the fact that our sun is on a constant countdown to death. Even if we did manage to flee to distant stars they’re all equally marching towards their own annihilation. Time and events work to destroy all we have ever comprehended, the decay of all matter as we know it, the decay of all life as we know it. 

One really has to wonder what is the point of anything? Why continue? Why progress? Life even at its most advanced is still doomed to nonexistence! Why? Why go on?

And Spiders, Zeke had just finished checking the dorms for them. 

Replaying the last week in his head over and over, looking for somewhere to change. Somewhere and somehow he could have stopped the destruction of Taiyuu. Zeke especially focused on the past day when he came across something. 

Illusions can’t conduct electricity. 

“Hey Zako?” Zeke asked his much shorter friend. “What’s up Zeke?” Sako responded. “Do you really create illuzionz?”.

“Course I do.” Sako was stone faced.

“But, illuzionz don’t conduct electrizity.” Zeke was starting to doubt his feathery friend “I was wondering how long it would take.” Sako finally cracked a smile. 

“You vere lying to me thiz entire time!”

“No, no, no, no, ok yes but, please, do you know anyone elses Quirks?”

“Of courze I do! I know Amekoz, Zpellmansz yourz and Yuu’z. I’m not an idiot.”

“Ok, what’s Amekos?” “Well now I’m embarrazzed to zay.”

“C’mooonnnn. I won’t judge too badly.” “Fine, Amekoz Quirk is Human Form. Sche can take on zhe form of a Human.” “Hmm, yes, of course, of course, but here’s the question, what is she actually?” “A Kangaroo.”

“Ahem.” Sako coughed into his fist. “Yeah, you’ve figured it out. Ameko is a Kangaroo with the Human Form Quirk.” Sako confirmed.

“I knew it.”

The two went on discussing their fellow students. Just some basic stuff, Yuu is a bat, Shou is related to Spellman, Ameko and Buckskin are related, Ozen is part building, Hirakus covered in mouths. 

“So what do you think about the new girl? Take a guess at that.” Sako put forward.

“Ok, this one I know for schure. You zee sche looks just like zomeone back home in Germany. That girlz Quirk is either a Mizty or a Clone Quirk. Sche looks just like someone wis a clone Quirk back home but she’s all floaty and...” Zeke lost his train of thought.

“Misty?” Sako answered questionably

“Yez!” 

“You’re right, she reminds me of a foggy day..” 

The new familiar-looking girl tensed up and seemed to lose a bit of her cheer. She sped up her pace to distance themselves from Zeke. 

“...”

“...”

Without the lighthearted banter between the two silence, like a cancer, grew. Tired of the sound of explosions and frustrated at his own inability to act, Zeke had an idea. Heroes aren’t just about fighting villains, heroes are about keeping people safe and happy. A True Hero makes everything ok even after a disaster. 

Turning to no one in particular, Zeke decided to use his loud mouth for something useful. 

“Hakuna. Matata.”

He got some odd looks.

“Hakuna Matata, vhat a wunderbar vhrase.”

Silence.

“Hakuna Matata, ain’t no pazzing craze! It means no worriez for the rezt of your dayz.”

Yuu started to mutter along. It wasn’t much, but it was someone. 

“It’s our problem-free, philosophy. Hakuna Matata.” Koatsu, the Green Guy Zeke had previously tased, joined in and he was singing louder. Was this a challenge?

Zeke pointed far in front of him, to Wolfsboon.

“Vhy, vhen he vas a young varthog!”

A slight humming from Ameko, better than nothing. Doing his best Wolfsboon impression Zeke pulled out all the stops.

“Vhen I was a young Varthoooooog.” 

Some irritated looks from people, and a great harmony on Koatsus part. 

“He found hiz aroma lacked a Schertain appeal. He could clear the Zavannah after every meal.”

Whack.

“Shut up!”

Zeke felt a stinging pain in his cheek, recoiling from the hit. Zeke saw that is was a girl from 1A, best known for her attitude Kuta, Kata, Katou, Takamakalaksaka? Something like that. 

“Ow.” 

“Stop, he isn’t hurting anyone!” Ameko interjected.

At least Ame’s talking. 

“Vould you prefer the zilence then, cuz I don’t think anyone elze here doez.”

“Keep that mouth shut unless you want another one.” Takamakalalaparatou was stanced up and ready for a fight. 

“Kutou!” Ameko was angry. Was that possible? “You’re just making everything harder, hasn’t everyone been through enough?”

Ozen, the local giant, got between Zeke and Takamalakealatou and placed a hand on her shoulder.

‘Try getting through that building you jerk!’

“I’m a sensitive soul, though I seem thick-skinned.” A new guy continued. It was Hiraku! The Mouth Man. Takakalakamaktou attempted to lunge towards Hiraku but was stopped by Ozen’s building like body. 

“Oh for fucks sake.” A 1B girl said. Zeke had seen her around before, she reminded him of the circus. 

“And it hurt that my friends never stood.” Koatsu joined again, emboldened by Takamakahoouzous restraint.

“DOWNWIIIND!” All three sang together.

“And oh, the schame.” Zeke followed through. “He was ashamed.” Hiraku continued.

“Thought of changing my name.” Koatsu followed.

“Oh, what’s in a name.” Hiraku perked in again.

“And I got downhearted!” It was  Zekes turn. Some frowns were disappearing.

“How did you feel?” Hiraku, playing the supporting voice.

“Every time that I-” Koatsu, adding some depth.

“Pumbaa! Not in front of zhe kids!” Zeke and Hiraku sang together.

“Hakuna Matata. What a wonderful phrase.” The three joined together

Now Zoe was starting to hum along. 

“Hakuna Matata! Ain’t no passing craze.” They continued, bolstering each other along. 

“It means no worries for the rest of your days. It’s our problem-free philosophy. Hakuna Matata” The Fire, Electricity and Wind kids finished.

“Oh thank fuck.” Popi said relieved. None of the singers was satisfied. 

The Band of Merry Men all looked to each other, took a deep breath. “I can show you the Woooorld!”

“God Dammit!” Even Popi’s mind was off the destruction of Taiyuu. 

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

After who knows how long of walking and songs, the group finally reached the bus. Every student feeling the exhaustion, some feeling it way more than the others. Sako, Senshii-none and Tamashi seemingly the worst off. Spellman was in literal shambles, she just barely had the basic limbs. She assured everyone she would be ok. 

One sleepy bus ride later and the Taiyuu Team arrived at their destination, UA high. Zeke, like his other students, was whelmed by the whole thing. 

There was a general sense of alarm when Senshii-none passed out. After the routine checks on everyone, mainly Senshii-none, Taiyuu was shown “Gym Gamma” an indestructible gym meant to contain even “The Hell Class”. Had demons gone to UA?

Finally, the thing Zeke had been waiting for all year. He could finally embrace his truest self, he could finally wear that cool-ass mask he designed. And also the rest of the hero costume but whatever. The metallic mesh was cool but The Mask took the cake. 

“Get in your pairs, stay on your mats and don’t kill anyone.” Eraserhead announced to both classes. Zeke was paired up with Ningyo Mya, he’d never met her before so it’s going to be an interesting… oh, oh no. Ningyo Mya looked like a doll from a horror movie, she looks terrifying. 

“G-Good to meet you I’m Needlepoint, what’s your name?” She seemed nervous but it was better than the dead scared everyone was back in the tunnel.

“I’m Zeke, nice to meetcha.”

“No, I, I meant your hero name.” “Oh, uh, I dunno yet.”

Seems like a nice enough girl. 

“3!”

Zeke started doing a little jump on the spot. 

“2!” 

Zeke spread his arms wide.

“1!”

Zeke opened his electrosense, let everything flow in. All the lights, the wiring, the electrical sockets, the batteries in Hero Costumes, the fire alarm, the smoke detectors, the alarms and bells. 

“Begin!”

Zeke used it all, pulling as much as he could out. Rage at the villains, anger at his family, grief at the loss of Taiyuu. Anger at himself, sick of his own inaction, frustration at his laziness, hate at his cowardice. He pulled it all out.

CRAAAAASHHHHH. 

KZZZZZTTT.

Silence. 

Every light inside the gym had exploded, all the electricity inside crashing outwards like a wave of bright anger. All unfairly directed at Mya. When all of a sudden, everything stopped. He couldn’t feel the buzzes of electricity anymore. The electricity had nothing to guide it and so it harmlessly fizzled out. 

“Purple Girl, you lose.” Eraserhead pointed at Mya.

“And you! Next time I see your ass pull something like that again, you’re out.” Eraserhead then pointed at Zeke

‘This Eraserhead guy was scary.’ 

[elsawiththegoodhair]

A First Kiss -

When: Post Daken’s Attack on Kurt Where: District X - Bobby’s Staff Office With: Kurt @daddybamf

Desc: Bobby and Kurt talk about their feelings, decide to take things slowly and Kurt tells Bobby about Daken’s jealousy.  

Bobby: Bobby was incredibly relieved to have his powers back, even if they scared him at times they were such a massive part of who he was he couldn't imagine his life without them. That and God he hated feeling the cold. It was awful! He didn't know how people actually managed with it. Still, it seemed like the District was back to normal already. Classes were back on, kids were running around and training was in full swing. Bobby was trying his best to forget about the whole thing and move on so they could all be prepared. Trouble was, the night in the safe house with Kurt wouldn't leave his mind. They hadn't done anything except sleep next to each other (him hogging all the blankets) but seeing the other standing undressed in the mirror seemed to have clobbered his mind with the fact that Kurt was damn attractive, not just when he looked like a regular guy, but when he was himself, more so when he was himself. And he was one of the kindest guys he'd ever met... God dammit, he needed to stop this. He sighed over his marking and looked up as a knock sounded on the door, "C'min!" he called, wondering who it was.

Kurt: Kurt hadn't felt this nervous or awkward since he was a teenager first arriving at Charles' school. The teleporter fidgeted outside Bobby's door - debating whether or not he wanted to knock on it. Things had felt... different, ever since that night in the safe house. Whenever he looked at Bobby now, there was an undeniable interest he could feel; but he didn't know what to do about it. Kurt had always been the devout Catholic - and attraction to the same sex was just something that wasn't supposed to be 'right'. But did any of that matter anymore? He had insider information about the cosmos; did playing the fanatic faithful really do him any justice anymore? Finally, the three-fingered hand reached out and rasped on the door. Hearing Bobby's response, it took Kurt a few seconds before he opened the door and peaked his head inside. "Hey." The word felt like it came out quieter than it really did. Looking at the blonde now, Kurt had to question if he had always felt this way about the male and just chose to ignore them on principle. Bobby had always been good-looking, but he really came into his looks over the years - and Kurt had a front-row seat through their awkward late-teenage years and even through the Schism up until coming to Star City. Kurt shoved his conflicting thoughts aside and put on a smile as he stepped into the room. "Are you doing okay? Eferyvon seems to be normal; powers returning properly." He spoke.

Bobby: Bobby looked up and instantly felt a little coil in his belly when he recognised Kurt on the other side of the door. Ever since they’d ended up sharing a bed when their powers were out of commission it was like he’d started to see the other in a different light and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. When he’d had any feelings about Warren back in the day they were buried so deep in his own denial he didn’t even register them as something at all. Now though, everything was out in the open and he could have those feelings about Kurt. He just wasn’t sure it was a very good idea, especially if it made him uncomfortable. “Hey yourself.” He said with a small grin after a moment’s pause. “O-oh yeah, everything’s ship shape and shiny. I can finally wear t-shirts again.“ He gestured at the thin, light-blue t-shirt he was wearing that was just the right side of too tight, “Wearing all those layers was so uncomfortable. I hated it.” He chuckled a little and tapped his pen against the desk, “What about you? Happy being fuzzy again?“ Even if things had been ‘normal’ for them all for a little while now, he and Kurt hadn’t seen much of each other aside from sharing looked in the hallway or their usual meetings. “It’s nice seeing you as yourself again.”

Kurt: Hearing that the other had recovered from the incident as well put Kurt at ease. It seemed the inhibitors hadn't come with any sort of permanent side effect - and that was good news to him. He shifted his feet slightly and gave a small laughter at Bobby's joking about his clothes - though he felt his eyes linger just a few seconds too long at the tight-fitting shirt the male currently wore. When he peeled his eyes away, he quickly nodded to the blonde's question. "I am. Kind of sad to be back to 'normal' too if I'm being completely honest, ya? I was kind of getting used to looking normal to ze vorld visout needing my inducer." He admitted.

Bobby: Bobby nodded at the other's words, "Yea, it's much easier to get by in this world when you look like just another average white guy." Hell, he knew that better than most; so long as he wasn't recognised Bobby could blend into a crowd easily, he'd been told a few times he has a pretty 'generic' face. "But I think you look better like this," he said after a moment's pause, "Y'know, you would be you if you weren't a blue fuzzy elf. That's my friend." And now they were back in the District there was no more need to hide it. It was just sad the rest of the world couldn't be like that. "So... You came to uhh, check up on me?" he asked with a little smile. It was nice to know Kurt had been thinking of him.

Kurt: Kurt looked down at the ground shyly, knowing he would have blushed if his furred skin would allow it. "You...do? You don't prefer me ze ozer vay...?" He questioned, unable to put his curiosity to rest. The teleporter moved further into the room; walking over and hopping up on the nearest surface to crouch on. "Of course I came to check on you." He offered a smile at the other's words. "We really haven't seen much of von anoser since... vell, you know."

Bobby: "Wha? Why would I?" Bobby asked, for once any connotations about his words going over his head, "Ever since I've met you, you've been blue, fuzzy and with a cool tail, I'll always take you like that." he said with a grin, "Human You is cool but it's like Logan suddenly being super nice or Scott being laid back, it just isn't you." He chuckled when Kurt needed to perch on something, "Well, thanks. But I'm good. I didn't wanna be around you loads in case I uhh... made you uncomfortable that night..." he mumbled a little, now it was his turn to look down.

Kurt: The notion that Bobby preferred and thought of his mutations as Kurt's 'normal' brought a smile to the other's face. When Bobby voiced his concerns about that evening, Kurt softly shook his head. "You didn't make me uncomfortable Bobby. I vas... flattered, by your compliments." He explained softly. "I... I just... I don't...." He couldn't figure out what he wanted to say or how he wanted to say it and closed his mouth into a pinched frown for several silent seconds. "You didn't do anysing wrong." He finally sighed out.

Bobby: Bobby sighed, he could tell he'd done something wrong, or at least changed their dynamic from what it'd been before. Hell, they'd been great friends but now there was this tension and he didn't like it. "But I did, didn't I?" he asked quietly, "And I get it, you've never been shy about your faith and it means more to me than I can say that we're still friends even after I came out, but that doesn't mean it's fair to put... attentions on you that you didn't expect." he cleared his throat, nervously tapping his pen on the desk, "We can uhh... just try and forget it if that makes things easier?" he asked, eyes flicking from Kurt's lips back to his eyes.

Kurt: Kurt let out a quiet sigh and remain silent for a moment; letting Bobby finish talking before he started. The crouch suddenly dropped into an actual sitting position and Kurt kept his gaze focused on the floor. "My faith vas eferysing to me. It vas a pillar of who I vas, ya?" He spoke. "After I died zough... and ze sings I haf learned since coming back - about Heaven and Hell... about vat exactly ze cost vas... I don't know vat to belief in anymore." Kurt explained gently. Finally, his gaze lifted to the blonde. "I don't vant to forget... but I don't know how to act on... zese feelings." The words were soft. "Looking at you, eferysing... feels different. I sink I've alvays felt zis vay? I sink I just ignored zem...because it is vat my faith taught me for so long." He tried to explain his thoughts properly.

Bobby: Bobby tilted his head slightly, doing his best to listen and take in what the other said since they were talking about such a huge part of Kurt's life, "You uhh... you don't talk much about that." he said after a pause, which he understood, Warren, Jean, they'd both died and come back, it still wasn't a topic they would open up about. "W-wait wait wait-" he dropped the pen and gestured slightly, "You have uhh... feelings?" he squeaked a little, shocked to learn this wasn't all one-sided. "I mean uhh, whatever you feel is valid y'know. It umm, it took me a long time to try and come to terms with who I was. Hell a me from the past had to confront me about it," he laughed a little nervously, "But... You can't rush anything I mean, you have to come to terms with who you are now and that's hard." Bobby knew that. "And uhh... Even if some people say it's against God... I'm pretty sure the pope was okay with it?" Maybe he'd seen a tweet about that ages ago? Given his own childhood Bobby didn't engage with religion unless he had to.

Kurt: "It's.. hard to talk about coping with a sudden restless immortality, ya?" He remarked off-handedly, but took each word Bobby said and listened to them deeply. "I... ve haf known each ozer since ve vere teenagers, Bobby. How could zere not be some sort of feeling? You... really grew into your looks, ya?" Kurt questioned softly. He thought for a moment and finally spoke once more. "I don't sink... I'm as concerned about who I am. Zis is just me... but, it is more concerning vat am I supposed to do vis ze vay I feel." He tried to clarify. His gaze was locked onto Bobby for the longest time. "I... yeah, I sink so..." Kurt rolled his shoulders slightly. Was this one of those moments he needed to cut ties with his old sense of 'morality'? If he was to spend his life waking up at the Bamf's discretion, was it truly worth it to live such a pious existence without the promise of the rewards at the end of the journey?

Bobby: "I can imagine..." he didn't like to think about stuff like that much. He knew he aged outside of his ice form but he didn't think he could age when he was iced up. And now he could stay in that form so easily it he could (in theory) keep it up forever. "I-I uhr... I did?" he made a face at the idea; Bobby had never considered himself good looking (he'd grown up with Scott and Warren for God's sake, he knew what handsome men looked like) and aside from being in good shape thanks to constant training that was all he reckoned he had going for him. He swallowed, feeling a red flush begin to cover his cheeks and immediately wanting to talk about turtles cause that was his damn go-to in the face of nervousness with hot guys... He tried to keep Kurt's gaze and ended up looking away as the blush spread, "W-well. I can't tell ya what you should do Kurt, that wouldn't be right and I''d be a little biased... But umm, think of it this way: love's a good thing, right? And you wouldn't be hurting anyone. So if being with a guy- any guy made you happy, what would be the bad part of it?"

Kurt: Kurt fidgeted - fumbling his hands together as he listened to Bobby. "I... yes, I suppose you are right. It vouldn't be harming anyvon and maybe it vould make me happy? I vouldn't know unless I gave it a try, ya?" The teleporter let out a small breath once more. He chewed on his lip, tail idly waving from one side and slowly back to the other as he sat there. Then there was silence once more. Kurt wasn't sure how to fill it and finally made a motion to stand up. "I... um... maybe I should...." The words trailed off as the gazed at the blonde. Kurt didn't want to just find some guy and see if it made him happy. He wanted to be happy - with Bobby. He couldn't deny that that was the feeling that kept his stomach doing flips.

Bobby: "Ahh, yea... That's a thing you should probably do, hehe." The nervous chuckle did a bad job at covering how much he wanted to bash his head on the desk in punishment for his own ineptitude. Kurt liked him (bugger if he knew why). He liked Kurt. And it seemed like Kurt was doing his best to try and take something further and he wasn't helping at all. "Okay umm uhr..." he cleared his throat and rose from his desk, fingers clenching and opening at his side, "How bout something like this." Bobby took a deep breath, his heart going like a jackhammer and (with plenty of time for Kurt to back away if he wanted to) closed the distance between them and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, feeling the other's warm skin against his own colder mouth. It was, slow, short and gentle and as he pulled back he blinked a few times and felt as though his face as on fire with his own blush, "So umm... yea... that's a thing."

Kurt: Bobby's movement to rise to his own feet caught Kurt off-guard and he eyed the way his fingers clenched and opened at his sides. When he moved in to close the distance between them, however, Kurt couldn't move. Zis, is happening. His mind alerted him as Bobby moved closer. He felt the chill resonating from the other male's body - like a personal air conditioner, and the lips on his made his eyes widen. A shiver went down his spine from both the chill and the sensation. He blinked as Bobby broke away and swallowed hard. "I nefer realized how chilly you vere." Kurt said softly - that was what his mind chose to react to first.  "I... vant more of zat... ya?" The mutant finally stated. "But, uh, I don't sink I can move my body right now." His legs wouldn't budge no matter how badly he commanded them to.

Bobby: Bobby let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding and it ended up being a laugh at that. "Yea, I'm a uhh, a chill dude." he couldn't help but make the awful pun since humour was a safety net for him. "Glad it umm, doesn't bother you." Judah hadn't liked it and they hadn't even slept together, just cuddled. He licked his lips and a shy smile curled up when Kurt admitted he'd like more, "Well that's uhr, that's great- that you want more! Not that uhh, you can't more much." Another nervous laugh followed. "I mean, we should, y'know, take this slow yea?" he asked, "It wouldn't be fair to push you and I don't wanna move too quickly." Despite him being a bit of a playboy back when he'd had girlfriends he didn't want to act like that anymore. He swallowed and took a step back, "Are you... are you gonna be okay?" It was kind of a big revelation after all.

Kurt: Kurt laughed - harder than he thought he would - when Bobby chose now of all times to work in an 'ice' pun. "It...uh, it definitely does not boser me." He stated sheepishly before giving him a small nod. "Yes. I vant to do... whatefer zis is between us; ze right vay." The blue mutant smiled and finally his body stepped closer to Bobby's. When Bobby asked if he was going to be okay, he answered by - hesitantly, of course - closing the gap between them to lock lips once more for a more lingering peck. "I..sink I vill be just fine. Maybe." He said softly as he broke away - but suddenly he frowned. "Vat... about Daken sough?" He asked suddenly. "He made it pretty clear when he invaded my Danger Room simulation, that I vas threatening him somehow by just looking at you..." He couldn't help but ask. If Daken had eyes on Bobby - and Bobby felt the same way - Kurt didn't feel right about starting this up. No matter how much his body was screaming 'Yes'; Kurt would respect if Bobby was interested into someone else.

Bobby: Bobby couldn't help it, he made jokes all the time and was bad at handling nerves. Still, Kurt seemed to take it well and that helped him relax. "Oh well uhh, that's really neat." he said with too many nods 'neat' ... he needed to stop saying that word. "I'm glad, that makes two of us course y'know," Bobby cleared his throat and an arm came up to rub the back of his neck, "I've dated a few guys-" like three "But I haven't umm... y'know." he really didn't wanna say it, it made him feel like he didn't know what he was doing. He'd had sex before, with ladies, and he's seen porn, how hard could it be? Heh, hard. He chuckled a little as his own internal joke before Kurt mentioning Daken caused the smile to drop from his face. "I'm sorry what?" he asked, blinking several times, "Daken in the danger room? He was in the school?! Kurt what did he do?" he didn't understand, sure he'd seen Daken hanging around the District once but he'd made very clear he wasn't interested. "And there's nothing between Daken and me, there never has been. For god's sake he stabbed my last boyfriend when he invaded the school."

Kurt: Kurt choked on his breathing slightly as Bobby spoke and quickly shook his head. "I... haf not.. you know, eiser... not vis a man." Kurt quickly assured the other, looking anywhere around the room in total embarrassment. He was almost thankful the conversation shifted over to Daken for the time being - but he found himself growing quiet at Bobby's questions. "He hijacked a training session I vas hafing... zere vas a lot of fighting." Kurt explained. He still had the marks where the cuts on his arms were healing up. The teleporter stepped away from Bobby - taking several steps before he stopped and finally shook his head. "Bobby, zat man is literally insane... he says zat he doesn't efen vant you, but he threatened to kill me if I got near you..." Kurt explained.

Bobby: Well, he’d managed to embarrass them both thoroughly with that one, great wonderful maybe he should kick Kurt in the shin while he was at it to make this as horrible as he could. “Well I uhh… no office but I figured, y’know you and your faith and… stuff.” He shrugged, hoping that didn’t come off as rude. Though his awkwardness soon melted away to worry as Kurt told him what Daken had had the gall to do. By the time Kurt was done though Bobby wasn’t worried, he wasn’t even mad, he was furious. The temperature in the room had dropped significantly. “Let me get this straight, Kurt. Daken, broke into the school, assaulted a tech, messed with the danger room, assault you with the intent to kill and tried to claim me as his own like I’m some sort of pet?” The question was posed calmly, too calmly and while the room was chilly there was no ice on the walls. It was so uncharacteristic of the usual jovial man that it signified all too well lines had been crossed that couldn’t be undone. “Is that correct?”

Kurt: Kurt cleared his throat. Bobby had a point - it was pretty obvious that the mutant was inexperienced with same-sex relations. The fur along Kurt's body stood on edge as chills coursed through his body. Was the room getting colder? When he had finished explaining what Daken had done, Kurt was certain the room was a lot colder than it had been minutes earlier. "Bobby..." Kurt said slowly and with a heavy frown as the man posed his question. "Daken and I have never gotten along... the kid is notsing like Logan..." Kurt tried to play the situation off on a less serious tone. Bobby's excessively calm demeanor was unsettling, even for Kurt.

Bobby: Bobby seemed almost eerily calm as he listened to Kurt speak, in his mind he’d already come to a decision. Daken had crossed a line Bobby hadn’t even expected a person would have to draw, he’d put a member of their staff into hospital and endangered Kurt. Something needed to be done. “Kurt, you’re right, Daken is nothing like his father. I frankly don’t care what he’s like but I do care that he has hurt one of our own and tried to kill you.” He took a breath, “I will deal with this. It can’t go any further and I will not let that man think he can attack us without recompense.” He put a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, the touch almost icy, “Please, let the others know what’s happened so we can increase security protocols. I will deal with Daken myself.“ And with that, Bobby moved to the door and left, the chill lingering even after he was gone.

[aaymeirah-writes]

Capri Telephone game 16 entry

(This was game #16 and played on the captive prince discord. Here is what I wrote for it. A slightly cracky AU featuring Damen and Laurent being bitter rivals and respective heirs to large Yogurt Companies. Bad pun warning.) 

It wasn’t every year that Akeilos Yogurts got to host Taste the Culture, an annual convention of yogurt and dairy lovers and makers from around the world. People came from far and wide to whichever specialty yogurt & dairy company was hosting, ready to sample new brand, blends and experimental curdling techniques. Damianos, heir to the entire company, knew that there was more to it than an exchange of yogurt recipes, he knew that this was really the opportunity for the large companies to scope out their competition and impress their competitors. Disguised by pretenses of friendship, bitter rivalries were carried on in the form of sabotage and rigged competitions.  

Damen had to admit, he didn’t quite like the whole sneaky rivalry part. Face to face challenges were more his thing. Give him an anonymous creator taste test, or some toss-the yogurt pie at your fellow heir over pulling the plug on fridges and bad mouthing your competitors any day.  

“Damen! I’ve got your sample booth now, you go scope out the competition,” Jokaste told him, swatting him playfully on the butt as she went behind the hinged counter. Her arms crossed on the table as she leaned forward, the better to display her well-endowed chest. Father insisted that even those high up in the Akeilos food chain work and interact with their customers. 

“What competition? We’re obviously the best,” Damen replied, reflecting idly that the neckline of Jokaste’s shirt had to be lower than was appropriate in some of those Union guidelines His father had him read. Not that he was complaining. 

“Darling, you know exactly what I mean,” she gestured languidly and significantly to the booths highlighted with blue awnings and flags. Much too excessive considering they were all indoors.  

“Right.” Damen sighed and put his hands in his pockets as he began to make his way through the press of people and vendors. It wasn’t easy, everybody and their cow wanted to speak to him; praising the quality of Akeilos yogurts or backhandedly insulting him under the guise of idle speculation about this year’s market prices in salted butter, all the conversations were just obstacles to his goal.  

Victorious Vere, easily their biggest competitor, was set up in a sprawl of ostentatious booths on the opposite side. Damen approached the closest one hesitantly. A folded paper sign on the corner said ‘Taste of Vere’ in fancy lettering and arrayed on the embroidered blue table cloth were paper cups of yogurt. Greek, no-fat, crunchy. The boy behind the booth looked at him suspiciously, fair enough, considering that he was the heir to Akeilos yogurt. His face was bound to be well-known to the yogurt & dairy community.  

“Do you want a sample?” the boy asked, gesturing to the cups.  

“Sure.” Damen did need a reason to be here after all. “Aren’t you a bit young to be working here?” he asked.  

“I’m practically an adult. Besides, I’m doing this as a favor to Laurent.” 

“Laurent!” Damen exclaimed, all the intel channels said that Victorious Vere’s best up and coming business manner was sick and unable to make it.  

“That’s me. And Nicaise, don’t make yourself out to be some great altruist. I’m paying you ridiculously to man my booth,” A familiar, clear voice came from behind Damen’s back. 

“Ah, but you are doing so so that I don’t cause trouble, which means that as long as I stay here, I'm doing you a nicely rewarded favor,” Nicaise retorted. Damen could only stand to the side and turn around in shock as his mind tried to process this turn of events. This beautiful, familiar face, turning to look at him indifferently. Shit. 

“Hello love,” Laurent smirked, “long time no see.” 

“Yes well, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.” Damen raised his hands and backed up against the booth, hating that his body language displayed so much nervousness, that he couldn't control his reaction to seeing Laurent once again. 

“We? You were the one who hospitalized my brother in a bar fight.” 

“Your lot started it when you used me to get the plans for the automatic churner.” 

“Just business Damen,” despite the cool tones his name was said in, Damen couldn't help but remember other, more pleasant circumstances in which Laurent said his name. Not the thing to be thinking about right now. 

“Hey guys? If you’re going to have some sort of drawn out ex-lover's quarrel, can you not do it in front of my booth. It’s bad for business,” Nicaise complained, not too subtly nudging the full tip jar he had set out. 

“Lovers?” Laurent demanded, affronted.  

“You’ve got it wrong,” Damen told Nicaise. The boy smirked when he saw the two of them suddenly united in their anger against him.  

“See? Already falling back into old ways.”  

“Just shut up and do your job. Or else- I won’t pay you,” Laurent threatened.  

“Exploiting a child? Laurent, how could you?” Damen asked dryly. Laurent’s cool and indifferent mask slipped just a bit to reveal a flash of genuine anger. Oops. 

“Watch your step Akeilos, you never know what can happen at a Yogurt convention,” Laurent snapped. 

“How very cultured of you Vere,” Damen retorted. With those ever so witty last words, he turned and walked away towards his side of the convention. Back at the booth, his phone vibrated with a notification for a text. 

10: 49 am Nikandros: WE’VE GOT A PROBLEM. LAURENT OF VICTORIOUS VERE IS HERE!  

10:50 am Damen: I KNOW.  

[o-a-crutchfeild]

Of Lions and Eagles

Circus AU for the Caprive Prince Reverse Bang 2019 

@capri-bigbang2k19

This fic is based on the lovely @silverdraeconis‘ Cirque du Vere piece! 

Available on AO3

When Damen woke, he was locked in a cage with a lion, and his head was killing him.

He was on his feet in less than three seconds, trying to put as much distance between himself and the creature as possible. He took a deep breath, and assessed the situation… the lion was chained to the opposite wall, and didn’t seem all that interested in him. It didn’t have the range of motion to reach him, and even if it could, it probably knew that food was coming soon, and Damen wouldn’t be the easiest meal it could get. For the moment, he wasn’t in acute danger from the lion. 

Despite this, he was definitely in acute danger from someone, but for the life of him he couldn’t recall how he’d ended up in this cage. The last thing he remembered was going out for the night, and following Jokaste into a tavern that she swore would make all his worries disappear. He’d chosen a golden drink that he remembered tasted like honey and good rum, and after that… the night was blurred. 

Well, his worries certainly had vanished, but they seemed to have been replaced with a whole new set of far more pressing concerns, such as what he was going to do to get out of this cage, who put him here in the first place, and where, geographically, he was. 

He wouldn’t have to wonder for long on all three accounts, however, as the door of the cage swung open to reveal an aging man with a broad-shouldered physique and a nearly black beard. The man crossed to stand near the lion, stroking its mane in a manner that did not show any kind of warmth or affection. “What are you worth, do you think?” the man asked, glancing at Damen with a cool judgement in his eyes. “Tall, quite strong obviously, mildly attractive… what price could you fetch?” 

Damen did not answer. The man looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place him, and considering that this was clearly his captor, the last thing he wanted was to play into his games. Showing a hand never ended well, especially before you knew the rules of the table or even what your cards meant. 

“Of course, your father will most likely pay the most for you,” the old man said with what sounded like it could have been a laugh if it wasn’t so false. “That’s very good news for you. It means that this little encounter shouldn’t change your living situation for all that long, and you’ll get away scot free.” 

Damen leaned against the bars of the cage, waiting for the old man to come out and say what he meant. All these implications and provocations were getting tiresome very quickly. He couldn’t understand what the point of it was- who was the villainous monologue even for? Was his kidnapper actually expecting to impress him, hoping for a positive review on his kidnapping skills later? Was it meant to be entertainment? 

The old man seemed to be frustrated by his silence, because he growled, yes, outright growled like the animal he had ceased petting, and almost moved closer to Damen, before seeming to think better of getting out of range of his little pet, and scoffing. “Well, and here I thought when they said you were a big dumb lump, they were talking about your intellect. Are you actually incapable of speech?” 

“No. I just haven’t heard much worth a response.”

The look on the old man’s face was quite amusing. Damen wasn’t certain what had been expected. This old guy really expected him to be intimidated? Damen couldn’t fathom how, even drunk, this man could have gotten the jump on him, but he was far more interested in how he’d get out of the situation than how he’d gotten into it, and somehow he was pretty sure that any questions about that particular topic would go unanswered. 

Unfortunately, Damen had forgotten one crucial thing that really should have made him a bit more nervous, and that one crucial thing was called a lion. He remembered that one crucial lion just as the old man walked towards the place where the chain was affixed to the bars of the cage, with a large silver key. He paused, just before unlocking the beast, to look at Damen, seeming quite self-satisfied. “You’ll find,” the old man said, “that I am impatient, and so is this lovely creature.” He stood up, pocketing the key and meeting Damen’s eyes, a cool threat hanging in them. “Tonight, you and he will go into the arena. You’ll be given a whip, and a costume. Whether you succeed or fail… The audience of the Cirque di Vere has been promised a show, and a show they shall have.”

In an instant, everything clicked, and Damen felt a sinking in his stomach. He knew at once where he’d recognized the man from. 

It was Auguste’s uncle. 

…

Two years ago, Damen had made a terrible, horrible mistake and decided to take his girl of the week, a petite blonde whose name he couldn’t for the life of him recall, to the circus. It was all well and good that he couldn’t remember her, because halfway through the date she’d gotten quite annoyed with him- specifically, when the silk dancers came out, and one of them, a tall, confident looking man with an infectious smile and what seemed like an infallible charm landed just in front of their seats. Damen had nearly forgotten that he was on a date at all, as he bended to kiss the extended hand. The girl had left, claiming that she felt a bit ill. At the door to the tent, Damen had been handed a slip of paper, inviting him backstage. 

It was just going to be a fling, he’d thought, and for a few hours, it was… until they’d both had a few drinks in them, and Damen had ended up with Auguste on top of the trapeze platforms, doing something that trapeze platforms were not meant for. Then, he’d asked to see some of the tricks in private, and Auguste had agreed, if Damen promised to catch him.

He’d missed. 

The crunch of bones snapping was sobering to say the least, and it had been a nightmare when they’d tried to sue him. Auguste couldn’t perform anymore- his leg had been shattered, and while his father’s lawyers had avoided any charges going through, and Damen had tried to forget the whole awful incident, it was clear now that he’d escaped nothing. 

He sighed heavily, glancing at the lion. Even with a weapon, he wasn’t sure that his was getting out of this alive. He stepped closer to the lion, and heard a voice coming from behind him. “I wouldn’t, if I were you.” 

Damen took a deep breath, and turned around. “And why is that?” he asked, looking at the man sitting in the wheelchair with a kind of wariness that he wasn’t used to having around anyone. 

“Because if you come at a lion like that it’ll take your hand off,” Auguste said dryly. “Look. I may hate you, but I don’t actually want you to die. I’d rather just get that nice ransom check for the amount that we tried to sue you for in the first place and be done with it. My brother is good with the animals. He’ll be in here to coach you for a bit, make sure you know enough to not get eaten, and in return, you’ll never mention our names again. Deal?” 

Damen looked at Auguste, and then at the lion. Well, this wasn’t going to be fun, was it? But it might be a little less horrible if he had some semblance of knowledge of how to not die tonight, so… “Deal. Honestly though, I have to ask, why do I have to fight a lion in the first place?” 

“Because my uncle knows that a lot of people really dislike your family and will pay a lot for the chance to witness you being eaten alive.” August offered a quick smile, the kind that made Damen feel like there was a joke he wasn’t in on, most likely at his expense. “Best of luck.”

As he wheeled out, Damen had to wonder just what his family had ever done to make anyone hate him that much. 

…

Damen’s first impression of Laurent was- who the fuck lets this kid near lions?

“I was all for letting you get eaten,” he declared, stepping into the cage haughtily and shooting Damen and ice-cold glare. “But Auguste says that if you die, he’ll know I didn’t train you properly and he’ll be quite disappointed, so you’d better listen carefully and do as I say or else.” 

Damen’s second impression of Laurent was, oh, that’s why they let that kid near lions. 

Laurent stepped up to the lion, holding a whip in his pale, thin hands, before twisting around to meet Damen’s. Damen knew, in that moment, that he was very glad that he was expensive. “Do you know how to crack it?” Laurent asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Damen glanced at the whip, considering. “In theory, but I’m better with a sword.” 

Laurent rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s convenient. It’d be easier to do this with more space,” he muttered. “Alright, you can’t actually crack the whip inside the cage, obviously, so we’re just going to make sure you have a really solid base in theoreticals.” He moved closer, and demonstrated his grip, his feet solid beneath his shoulders, as he held the whip firmly. “You see how I’m holding it? I want you to copy my pose and grip.” 

Damen chuckled. “Kid, I’m pretty sure I know how to hold it.” 

Laurent crossed his arms. “Do you want to learn or do you want to get eaten by a lion?” 

Damen mirrored Laurent’s earlier pose. “Alright. So how does this keep me from being eaten?” 

“He’s trained,” Laurent said, a bit of pride in his voice. “Mostly. He’ll recognize if you can control the whip, and he knows what a lashing feels like. If you can get one or two good hits on his hide, he won’t mess with you much until you put the weapon down… so you just have to not put the weapon down until you’re out of the ring. Think you can manage it?” 

“Yeah, seems simple enough.” 

“Simple enough while he’s chained up.” 

Damen nodded. “So I just… swing it, right? Not much to it?” 

Laurent rolled his eyes again. It seemed to be a favorite expression of his. “Not quite,” he said. “At least, not unless you don’t care about getting caught on it. As fun as it would be to see you take a lashing, it’d be inefficient in keeping you alive for you to trip over your own whip.” Laurent stepped back, letting the whip fall behind him, and to the side. “When you bring it up, you don’t want it to hit you.” 

Damen nodded. “Can I try?” 

Laurent looked up at him, blue eyes tense. “You want me to hand you a weapon, while I’m alone with you in a cage?” 

“How else am I supposed to figure out how to use it?” Damen asked. 

Laurent scowled, and moved within range of the lion, holding the whip out to Damen. “Fine. If you don’t give it back, I’m unlocking him. You don’t know how to use it properly yet, so don’t get any clever plans.” 

“Can’t be too clever if they wouldn’t work,” Damen pointed out. 

Laurent nearly smiled. Nearly. Damen was almost entirely sure. 

Damen looked down, lying the whip to his right, behind him. “Is that how I should hold it?” he asked. “Is it accurate?” 

Laurent nodded. “Looks about right to me. Now, hand it back. We can’t do any cracking in here, like I said, so there’s no reason for you to keep holding onto it.” 

Damen passed the weapon back. “So, now what?” 

“Do you know how looping works?” Laurent asked. 

Damen shrugged. “More or less.” 

“Show me.” 

Damen swung his arm up smoothly, before bringing it down fast. Laurent stepped back quickly. “Was that correct?” Damen asked. 

“Yes. Yes, that was… that was fine,” Laurent nodded. “That should work for a forward crack. Do you want to learn other variations?” 

“Think it will help?” 

Laurent nodded. “It could.” 

“Then yes, of course.”

Laurent moved, placing his left foot forward, and pulling back his arm. “It’s like throwing a ball for the overhand crack,” he explained, demonstrating the movement. He paused for a moment, looking Damen over. “Well, are you going to try it or not? I’d prefer not to be wasting my time here if all you’re going to do is gawk and then-” 

“Why doesn’t it bite you?” Damen cut him off. “You or the old man. You’re not holding a weapon, so how come I can’t put mine down once I’ve trained it?” 

Laurent looked amused, and shook his head. “I can go near him- not it- because I was there when he was born, and helped raise him from a cub. Lions are very hierarchical, and this one knows I’m part of his pride, so he won’t let any harm come to me. Same goes for the rest of the troupe, with a few exceptions.” 

“What exceptions?”

“The ones who beat him, obviously,” Laurent chuckled. “If you hit a dog, it’ll stay loyal. If you hit a cat, it’ll hold a grudge. Alas, this is one cat you’ll have to hit, because you’re not part of his pride, and he’ll eat you if you don’t.” 

Damen frowned. “So you’re alright with your pet being whipped?” 

“I don’t have a choice in the matter, do I? People pay to see it more than most acts, so it’s not as though my uncle’s going to close that ring’s centerpiece.”  

Damen frowned. That didn’t quite seem right… but he wasn’t exactly his business. “Well, what’s his name, anyway?”

Laurent gave Damen an unamused look. “What’s it matter to you? Now, there’s one last lash I’m going to teach you, and then tonight, hopefully for all of us, the ransom will arrive, and you will be gone from our lives forever. Thing you can manage that?” 

Damen grinned. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’m not the one who decided to be here.” 

…

That night, Damen was thrown an outfit with more buttons than he could honestly say he knew what to do with, and brought in chains to the tents. His heart was pounding, and he hoped desperately that the theory would be enough in practice. He passed Auguste, and tensed instantly… but the dark blue eyes seemed much less sharp than before, almost playful. Damen wasn’t sure if that was because Auguste was looking forward to seeing him murdered by a lion, or something else entirely, but it was almost comforting to see. He nodded, and Auguste gave him a tiny salute, just as Damen was unchained, and shoved into the ring. The crowd began screaming, clearly ready for the slaughter. There was something special about bloodlust cries that made them quite different from normal excitement, Damen thought. He’d been to plenty of sporting events, but none of them had ever had this kind of dissonance in the air, like the crowd was cheering in a minor chord. 

Damen took a deep breath, and stepped into the ring, taking the whip from the wall, and remembering the theory, placed it on the ground to his right, behind him, before swinging it up smoothly, and cracking it down. If the sound of the crack hadn’t alerted him, Damen would have been able to tell he’d gotten it right purely based on the reaction of the crowd around him, which nearly doubled in volume. Damen looked up for the first time, and for a moment, he was sure there had to be some hideous joke being played upon him, because up above was a blond acrobat on the silks, performing that same routine that Damen had watched, years earlier. 

For a moment, Damen thought that perhaps the entire incident had been a scam, and Auguste’s legs had never been harmed. Maybe this was his brother’s idea of a great practical joke? Kastor had never really known what was appropriate… but then, Damen saw the face of the acrobat, dancing artfully above him, and recognized his short-tempered teacher from just hours before. 

He was just as entranced by the show as he’d been two years ago, which was a problem, considering that the lion had just been released. 

Damen brought the whip up quickly, cracking it in the air just as the lion leapt through, and… stopped. Damen took a step back, as the lion stared him down, eyes shining with what seemed like sheer glee. The crowd was dead silent, uncertain what to expect. Two pure exhibits of peak physical form, Damen and the lion, eye to eye, neither one moving an inch. Damen glanced up, and saw that Laurent had paused his routine, perched on the trapeze and looking down on the scene with an intense, calculative gaze. When Damen caught his gaze, Laurent tilted his head, almost accusingly. 

Slowly, Damen brought his hand up, and ran it down the lion’s forehead. The lion closed his eyes, and made a low, rumbling noise that, if Damen wasn’t very, very mistaken, was a purr. Damen felt a grin split his face, and he stroked the lion again. 

The crowd’s reaction was… less than positive. Damen had been right about the bloodlust- if not a man eaten, the crowd had at least been promised a lion beaten into submission, and a fantastic battle, not some brat whose father most of them hated getting to pet an exotic cat. The booing was louder than even the cheering had been, and Damen found quickly that the real task of the night would be to dodge circus food, flung from disappointed guests’ baskets and laps. He hadn’t known people actually did that kind of thing. 

It was at this moment that Laurent decided to land in the ring. For some reason that Damen would be more than a little hard pressed to guess at, the younger man seemed to be interested in taking a more hands-on role in the show. 

“I don’t know what you did,” he growled in Damen’s ear, “but this is going to be a show. If you’re not going to fight a lion, you better believe you’ll be riding him.”

“Riding?” Damen demanded, perhaps a bit loudly, because the crowd seemed to suddenly develop a far greater interest in the events that were transpiring in the ring. 

“Yes. Riding. You’ve got such an affinity, after all, don’t you? Why not take it a step further?” 

Damen hesitated. He’d ridden bareback before, yes, but that was horses, that was entirely different. He reached out, and stroked the lion’s mane again. “Think he’ll let me?” 

“I think that if we have a failed show, my uncle will be extremely unhappy. Climb on, and leave some room for me.” 

“What?” Damen demanded, but Laurent was already moving across the arena. Damen bit his lip, uncertainly staring down the lion’s back… there was not truly a lot that could be done about it, was there? He took a deep breath, and then, in under three seconds, he’d jumped onto the lion’s back, and was gripping his sides with his legs as tight as he could, holding on for dear life. The crowd was, once more, delighted by this turn of events. They really were quite fickle, Damen thought, glancing at the half eaten cotton candy on the ground before him, that the lion quickly stepped over. 

It was then that Damen felt something landing behind him, and heard the crowd’s cheering yet again. It wasn’t cruel cheering this time, however. It was the kind of amazed applause that he’d recalled from the last circus. Damen turned his head to see, behind him, Laurent, standing on one foot on the lion’s rump, his other foot held high over his head, and his back arched beautifully. Damen nearly fell off the lion at the sight. It really was, he had to admit, a fantastic circus, kidnapping aside. 

Damen considered for a moment, before tapping the lion in the side, a small nudge meant to say, go faster. It was as though a gunshot had been released. A half hysterical, half delighted laugh ripped unbidden from Damen’s throat as the beast raced around the circle, and he felt himself leaning forward, truly enjoying the ride. If this was what it meant to be kidnapped and tortured, he’d have to try it more often. He laughed, and looked up at the crowd, raising one hand and waving. 

It was almost too short a time in the ring before the act was over, and the curtains came down around the ring. Laurent jumped down, scowling and stretching himself out. “You had to make him go faster, didn’t you?” Laurent groaned. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to hold that pose when he was racing around at fifty miles an hour?” 

“I doubt more difficult than what your uncle had planned for me,” Damen retorted. “What happened, anyway? Why didn’t he attack?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. You’re lucky I was there to save the act, though, because if you’d impacted ticket sales, or heaven forbid caused a refund, you’d have definitely ended up on his bad side.”

Damen nodded slowly. “Why did you help me, anyway? Don’t you want me dead? I’d think that you would hope for me to be on his bad side.” 

Laurent glanced at Damen, scowling. “I want the ransom money, not your neck. And in any case, Auguste wants you to survive, so… I suppose I do as well.” 

Damen shrugged it off. That made a good deal of sense- loyalty and greed were great motivators for many an unlikely ally, and in this… literal freakshow… Damen could use every ally he could get. He glanced at the lion, uncertainly. He’d curled up on the ground, and seemed to have fallen back asleep. Maybe it was a vegetarian lion or something along those lines. 

As Damen walked over, the lion opened one eye, and then closed it again. Damen knelt down, and was about to stroke his mane, when the beast let out an unmistakable growl. Clearly, whatever had happened in the ring must have been some kind of insane fluke.

… 

Damen was brought back to the cage, with little more than a dirty look from the old man. That night, when he heard the door opening, Damen was half expecting to be shouted at in some ridiculous fashion, but instead, light footsteps came up to the cage, and Laurent slipped in, a plate of food in one hand. He held it out, looking annoyed. “Well? Are you going to eat, or not?” 

Damen hesitated, before taking the plate. “Is it poisoned?” he asked. “Since the lion didn’t actually end up killing me?” 

Laurent scoffed, looking annoyed as he sat down across from Damen, crossing his arms and legs at once. “Don’t be an idiot. We can’t get money for your safe return if you’re dead.” 

Damen raised a brow. Was this kid actually planning to sit with him while he was eating? “Well, maybe it’s just poisoned to make me ill, without any of the lethal effects.” 

“Why would we want you to get sick in a cage we have to clean? The lion’s filth is enough without adding yours to it,” Laurent said. 

Damen nodded, taking a bite. “So, was that all you came for?” It wasn’t terrible, he had to admit. Some bread, seemed like it was fresh, and a thick beef stew that wasn’t half bad at all. “I mean, I’m glad I won’t have to starve while I’m waiting for the ransom money to come through, so thanks.”

Laurent rolled his eyes. Yep, that was definitely his favorite thing to do in response to just about anything Damen had to say. “Actually,” he said, his tone a bit clipped, “the first half of the money was just wired to a foreign account. We’ll get the other half in cash when we go to swap you tomorrow.” 

“That was fast,” Damen grinned. “I was worried I’d be stuck here for months on end.”

Laurent shrugged. “You’re a liability, and I think my uncle’s a bit afraid of you now that he knows he can’t rely on the lion eating you if you get too close to him. I doubt you’ll be seeing him again while you’re here.” 

Damen nodded slowly. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked. “Why didn’t you just give me the food and leave?” 

“I need to bring the plate back when you’re done with it,” Laurent said promptly, before hesitating, and continuing. “Also… Auguste and I had a conversation. A few, actually. And he said, from what he can remember, that everything that happened was… not something you would have meant to do.”

“Honestly,” Damen said quietly, “I’m sorry for what happened. I don’t think it was alright to kidnap me, or throw me in a ring with a lion, but all things considered… you deserved compensation. At least, Auguste did. I never meant to hurt him.” 

Laurent nodded, and for a moment, in the halflight of the cage, Damen could see something almost vulnerable about him. Damen took another bite of the food, before setting it aside, and looking at Laurent, trying to pick out details about him. Laurent looked up, and his eyes were sharp again. “If you’re even thinking about giving a description to the police-”

“How did I end up here?” Damen asked, cutting him off. 

Laurent shifted uncomfortably. “A girl,” he said, finally. “I didn’t get her name, but my uncle paid her a lot to deliver you. He’s already made ten times that in profit, and he’s only got half the ransom, but still…” He shrugged. “If I were you, I’d choose who I sleep with a lot more carefully, you seem to have the absolute worst ability to stay out of dangerous, sex-related situations of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Damen wasn’t sure how to deny it, or even if denying it was an option at this point. “Was she blonde? Pale skinned, with blue eyes?” 

“You certainly have a type, don’t you?” Laurent smirked. “Yes, she was, though I’m not sure how far that will narrow things down for you.”

For a moment, they were quiet in the cage. It was a comfortable silence. Damen wondered how long it took most people to develop Stockholm Syndrome. It was typically more than one day, right? 

“If you ever need someone to ride a lion again…” Damen started, before trailing off, realizing that it was probably not the smartest thing to offer. 

Laurent’s head jerked up, his eyes wide with astonishment. “You’re joking. You have to be joking.”

Damen shrugged. Not the smartest thing to offer, maybe, but perhaps one of the more interesting ways to spend a weekend. “You know how to get in touch, considering that you have to have stalked me a fair bit to manage to pull off this kidnapping thing. Just… give me a call next time. No need to hold me for ransom, alright?”

Laurent blinked, and though he carefully composed his expression, Damen was pretty sure he’d succeeded in baffling that particular acrobat. It wasn’t a bad experience, overall… though it seemed that it would be a very expensive one. 

…

The next morning, Damen was brought into a van with three strongmen, and the old man at the wheel. He was brought to a forest in the middle of nowhere, and once a backpack filled with cash had been handed off, the van was unlocked, and he was escorted out, and told, along with his parents, that if they didn’t want any more trouble, they’d remain there for the next fifteen minutes. It was a rather awkward fifteen minutes, before Damen was brought into his father’s car, seated next to Kastor, who made jokes about Damen running off to join the circus for the next several minutes until their father, Theomedes, snapped at him that he’d said quite enough.

The next week seemed to be more or less ordinary, though Damen made a point of not asking out Jokaste again. He didn’t have any proof that it had been her who sold him out, but there was definitely something false about her relief when he came home. Damen hadn’t really stopped thinking about the experience eleven days later- who would?- but he had lost any slight expectation of contact from the circus when his phone rang. 

It was a blocked number, and Damen answered, expecting a robotic voice to tell him that unfortunately, his social security number had been cancelled, and he needed to register his credit card with said robot to reopen it. Instead, a sharp, tense voice on the other end asked, “Did you mean it as a joke?”

Damen knew at once who it was on the other end, of course. “Well,” he said, leaning back in his bed. “That would depend on what, exactly, you’re referring to.”

“Eagle hasn’t been letting anyone on his back since you,” Laurent snapped. “The audience wants to see the act, and it’s not available, and we’ll pay you to show up and do it.” Then, muttered under his breath, “Stupid cat…” 

“Eagle?” Damen asked, half laughing. “Is that his name?” 

“Will you be there or not?”

Damen considered for a moment. It would definitely be among his worse ideas to go back into a ring with a lion, among people who had recently kidnapped him, and then try to recreate what had obviously been some kind of fluke that he’d been lucky enough to survive. “Tell me where I’m going.” 

[winmance]

Help, I’m alive

Chapter 1

Beta by @readerwriterme​

Smoke. That’s the first thing he notices when his mind starts to come around.

He can’t place where he is or who he’s with. He’s probably working but maybe he isn’t; maybe the fire is in his own house? No, it can’t be; there’s a child’s voice somewhere.

A child. He needs to get to the child. He tries to walk but his body is too heavy and his mind is becoming dizzy. Someone calls his name. It’s Nikandros, he thinks, only he sounds more scared than he ever has.

Does he remember that time they were camping, and a snake came into their tent? They both started screaming so loud that Damen’s dad crawled out of his own tent completely naked, thinking something awful had happened. It took ten seconds for Damen and Nikandros’s tears to turn into laughter.

He should ask Nikandros if he remembers that. Not right now of course, because right now, he’s lying on the floor and can’t breathe correctly. Can’t breathe at all actually. He’s not aware of what’s happening around him anymore. Did he get the kid out before falling? He thinks he did. Maybe he didn’t. He doesn’t want to die for nothing.

That snake wasn’t even poisonous.

It’s time to sleep now.

“Patient 20. Male, thirty years old, firefighter. He was caught in a fire six months ago. We’ve put him in an artificial coma.”

The voice continues talking but Damen doesn’t understand everything. He thinks they’re talking about him, but they said that the patient had burns all over his back, his lungs had been torched, and his left leg is practically destroyed and obviously, that isn’t the case with him. He’s fine. Nothing was hurting, not really. Sure, he’s feeling a little dizzy but that’s about it.

He wants to tell the guy who’s talking but he can’t open his eyes. He can’t move his body either, and when he wants to frown he realizes he can’t move his face. He’s asleep. That must be it. He’s having a bad dream, nothing more.

He hears footsteps and a door closing. Is he alone now? He doesn’t want to be. He needs someone to talk to him, to notice him, anything that could prove to him that he isn’t dead yet.

“I’m Dr. Laurent De Vere. I’ll be taking care of you from here on out,” the man – doctor says. “Your previous doctor wanted to turn your machines off. He said there was nothing more we could do for you. I disagree so he gave me your case. Don’t think it was a gift, it wasn’t. They’re all waiting for me to make a mistake, but I won’t. I’ve never been wrong, and it won’t start now. So, if you can hear me, Damianos, which I doubt, know that I’m gonna save you no matter how long it takes.”

There’s footsteps and a door closing again. He isn’t alone. He isn’t dead yet.

  He’s not always awake. He doesn’t think so anyway. It’s impossible to tell when a day starts and when a day ends, or if his last memory is from an hour ago or a week ago. He hears his doctor’s voice, almost every time he’s awake. Sometimes he hears the nurses who are taking care of him too. Sometimes he even hears other doctors or other patients. He still hasn’t heard his brother, Jokase, or even Nikandros. He hopes his mind will let him be awake the next time they come.

  “Hello, Damianos,” Dr. De Vere says, as he often does. Damen is starting to notice a pattern: his doctor only talks to him when he’s alone. If other doctors or interns are there, he doesn’t acknowledge him, not like he does when it’s just the two of them.

 “Today I had three people telling me how nice the weather has been lately. Three people! Do they think I can’t tell that the weather had been good? Why do they need to say it?”

If Damen could answer, he would tell his doc that people just want to make small talk and that they’re not insulting his intelligence. He would probably smile while explaining it, amused by the fact that his super smart doctor is getting angry about something most people consider amicable.

“I’m sure you’re the type of guy who would say that the weather is good,” his doc mumbles.

He is.

“I’m gonna start a new treatment on your burns next week. It’s an expensive one so you better be fighting for your life because the whole hospital hates me because of you.” There’s a pause but Damen knows the conversation isn’t over. He’s starting to understand the way his doc likes to talk. “Well, let’s be honest, it’s not just because of you; they hated me before too.”

If he was awake, he would probably laugh and tell his doctor that yes, he is fighting for his life, and soon they both will be laughing together at all the doctors who said Damen was a lost cause.

  Nikandros had decided he wanted to be a firefighter after one of their friends brought his dad during “Present your parent’s job” day at school. The man had talked for almost an hour about the time he’d saved a whole family from a car on fire, not caring that he was putting his own life in danger. His coworkers had begged him to stop, but he had refused, claiming that if it was him in that car, they wouldn’t have stopped until they’d gotten him out of there. He’d gotten the five people in the car out and was sent off to the hospital to recover. One of the women he’d saved came to see him a few days later, then the next day too, and the day after that. Not only had he had saved five people that would have been dead otherwise, but he had gotten an impressive and cool scar on his right arm and found the love of his life.

Damen had decided he wanted to be a firefighter after he saw one rescuing a bunch of kittens who were stuck into a hole.

The firefighter ended up adopting all the kittens, claiming that they were his responsibility now. Every now and then, Damen would stop at his place to help give baby bottles to the kittens and play with them.

Their friend’s father had died one year later in a fire trying to rescue an old lady. It was later proven that she was dead before the fire began.

  “Teenagers are a fucking nightmare,” his doc says in greeting.

Damen mentally sighs in relief, a wave of happiness spreading through him. He hasn’t heard his doc for quite a while now, either because he wasn’t “awake” when he came or because his doc simply hadn’t come, he isn’t sure. Through the last one is unlikely; if he believes what the nurses said, his doc had been coming to see him every single day since he was transferred to his service.

“I had to go up to Nicaise’s high school because the little shit put ten bath bombs in the school’s pool while other kids were in it.”

Nicaise? Is he his son? He thought his doc was pretty young, but maybe he’d been wrong. Also, where did Nicaise find ten bath bombs?

“Nicaise is my nephew,” his doc says. “I’ve been raising him for a while now which probably explains why he’s turning into a little shit.”

He wants to protest that putting bath bombs in a pool full of people is pretty cool, but he’s not sure his doc will agree if he said so. Not that he can, anyway.

“It’s… hard, to raise a kid. My brother died seven years ago when Nicaise was only eight and since his mom had never been around, I took him with me. I’m not that much older than him; only ten years, which makes things even harder. How am I supposed to act like a dad to him when I could very well be his brother?” He sighs, “I just want Auguste to be proud of me. I promised him I would look after his son and I… I don’t think I’m doing a very good job.”

Damen doesn’t think that’s true. He doesn’t know Nicaise and he doesn’t really know his doc either, but the fact that his doc cares so much about this kid tells him that he loves him. Isn’t that what his brother would have wanted; for someone to love his child as much as he loved him?

“You’re back is healing really well. We’ve only been using the new treatment for three months, but I can already see the result. It’s really encouraging.”

Three months? Has it really been three months already? That means that he’s been in the hospital for nine months. Shouldn’t he be awake by now?

“I’ll come back to see you before leaving tonight.”

  Someone is in his room. It’s not his doc, he knows that. Laurent – he started calling him that not that long ago, what’s the point of being polite if no one can hear you? Laurent has a particular way of walking, graceful in a way that makes you think his feet barely touch the floor, that suits his personality just fine; but the person in his room right now is walking very loudly. He thinks it’s a man because of the way he breathes, heavily and angrily. He doesn’t like him at all. Where’s Laurent?

He hears someone else stepping into the room, a woman this time.

“Are you sure, Smith? De Vere is gonna throw a tantrum when he finds out.”

“Fuck De Vere! I’m tired of that bitch telling us all what to do and not to do. He’s been using all the money on this patient for nothing. It’s time to put an end to it.”

Damen never wanted to be more awake than right now. Who the fuck does this doctor think he is, insulting Laurent like that?

“You get away from him!” Laurent yells, stepping into the room. “He is my patient, I’m the one making decisions, not you!”

“It’s been a year. One whole year, and still nothing. Not a single movement. Nothing. Nada. His family agreed to have him taken off machines.”

Did they? No. Kastor wouldn’t let him die. He simply wouldn’t. He’s his big brother. They love each other. He wouldn’t let him die like that.

“Because you’ve told them there wasn’t anything more we could do, which isn’t true. Damianos is getting stronger. I can see it.”

“You can’t see a thing!”

He needs to move. He needs to prove to them that he isn’t dead. He needs to help Laurent. He doesn’t want to die yet. He’s too young and there are too many things he hasn’t done. He wants to know what Laurent looks like. He wants to thank him for all he’s done.

 “Yes, I can! Because unlike you, I’m good at my job.”

“You better watch your mouth boy!”

Laurent never left him, and he won’t leave him either.

He can move his fingers. Maybe not his whole hand, he knows that’s too much, but if Laurent would just hold his hand, he could move his fingers and prove those assholes wrong.

“He’s not brain dead. He’s a healthy man, a hero. I’m not gonna stop fighting now. I’ll continue until I decide there’s no chance left.”

“Then take him off his meds. Let him wake up,” the woman says.

“No. He’ll be in too much pain. His body isn’t ready yet.”

“It’s been a year. When is he gonna be ready?”

Do they realize he’s right in front of them? Do they care? He’s here! He’s right here and yet, they’re talking like he’s just a computer waiting to be turned off.

“That isn’t your call to make,” Laurent says. “nor is it your decision. I’m his doctor and unless the Chief tells me we need to cut his life support, I won’t. Now, it would be better for the two of you to leave this room before I call security.”

“Once you realize that you’ve been wrong,” the man starts, “don’t come crying to us because you’ve been fired.”

The door is closed and he hears Laurent coming closer to him. He wants to cry with frustration, to scream at the top of his lungs, to punch something, to see, he wants to see so fucking bad. Everything has been black for so long now. He needs to see.

“I believe in you,” Laurent says. “And I don’t- I know you can’t hear me, but I believe in you. So please know that I won’t let anyone hurt you. We’re a team now.”

He won’t let them hurt Laurent either.

  He dreams of the snake again, the same snake they later found out Kastor had put into their tent. This time though, instead of screaming, he gets down on his knees and holds his hand out for the snake to touch. The snake is scared at first, but slowly, it gets closer to Damen’s hand until they’re almost touching.

Then the snake turns into butterflies, hundreds of butterflies flying around Damen. They’re beautiful, full of life and color.

Had the snake always been that pretty?

   Food. It smells like food. Lasagna maybe? He’s not sure. Fuck, he can’t remember the last thing he ate before the fire. He’s sure it didn’t smell as good as this.

“Nicaise is staying with some friends tonight so I figured I could keep you company.”

Why would someone choose to stay with a dead body instead of enjoying a night alone? No one in their right minds. Still, he’s thrilled by the fact that Laurent chose to be with him.

“I’ve met your brother. In case you didn’t know, he’s an idiot.”

He knows that. He loves his brother to death, but even he can admit that he isn’t what one would call nice.

“His girlfriend isn’t any better. A real bitch. Guess they were meant to find each other, weren’t they?”

Kastor has a girlfriend. He didn’t before the fire. Then again, it’s been over a year. He can’t expect people to just stop living.

“He reminds of my uncle,” Laurent says, his voice dropping. His family is a sensitive subject. “He’s… my parents died, when I was seven. Car crash. I was with them when it happened. I was a mess after that. Who wouldn’t be? I was the only one who came out alive. I saw their dead bodies.

Anyway, Auguste and I were sent to live with our uncle. Everybody thought he was so generous, to take his two orphaned nephews with him, even more, when I started showing signs of PTSD. He sent Auguste away almost immediately. Put him in a boarding school so we could only see each other every so often.

Nights were awful. I would beg him to stay with me so he did.”

There’s an awful feeling growing in Damen’s stomach. He doesn’t want it to be true, doesn’t want to know that some sick asshole hurt Laurent like that. He doesn’t because there’s no way for him to express his anger right now.

“It lasted until I was fifteen. Then I told Auguste that I wanted to come and live with him. He said yes right away, didn’t wait for an explanation. He loved me, you know. Auguste loved me so much and I loved him right back.

“Uncle had stolen so many years from us. So many years where we could have been together, so we tried to make the most of it. We were waiting for uncle to try to get me back, but when I turned eighteen and he still hadn’t done anything, we thought it was over.

“Auguste died one week after I turned eighteen. Car crash. I was supposed to be in the car too, but Nicaise was sick so I told Auguste to enjoy his night out.

“My parents had a hospital. A whole hospital and a whole lot of money, too. It was our heritage but if we had both died, it would have been my uncle’s property and so would have Nicaise. I was already too old for my uncle’s liking.”

Laurent isn’t crying but his voice is shaking, and Damen wonders how many times he’s told this story. Never, probably. He’s the first one to hear it and he’ll take it to the grave with him, he promises that.

“I fought really hard to prove that I was worthy to keep Nicaise. Uncle said that I was unfit, just a spoiled child that didn’t deserve anything. I skipped a lot of class and he used that against me. Said that I was smart, but that I didn’t have any social skills, that I couldn’t give love to Nicaise.

I had zero friends, zero lovers, and zero support. They gave Nicaise the choice and he, of course, chose me. I was so relieved. I would have given all the money and the hospital away as long as it meant keeping Nicaise.

My uncle owns 20% of the hospital. It’s small, but enough that I can’t fire him. I left that hospital when I was twenty-two. I couldn’t deal with seeing him every day. It’s a shame; I really loved that hospital. We’re still fighting. He has a reputation, he’s an excellent surgeon, a respected man and I’m a twenty-five-year-old surgeon that has the reputation of being an iron cold bitch. I don’t even know why I don’t just give up on the hospital.”

It’s unfair. This entire story is unfair. Why did Laurent have to be the one to go? He didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing at all.

“Do that again,” Laurent says suddenly, short of breath.

Did someone else enter the room?

“Damianos, move your fingers again,” Laurent begs. “Please.”

Did he move his fingers? He doesn’t know how he did it. He didn’t even know he did it before Laurent said it!

He feels something. Someone is touching him, holding his hand. It’s Laurent. Laurent is holding his hand. He’s begging him to move and Damen would be damned if he let Laurent down.

He concentrates hard. The feeling of Laurent holding his hand is barely noticeable, but it’s there. How does one move his fingers? It’s something so natural, so easy, that he’s never really thought about it. It’s funny, how you only realize that you should have paid better attention to things once they’re gone.

“Call doctor Travis!” Laurent yells, probably to one of the nurses. Then he whispers to Damen only, “I knew you were still there. I knew it. You can’t hear me, Damianos, but I’m gonna help you. I’m gonna save you. I promise.”

I can hear you, he wants to say, and I’m gonna save you, too.