#man.................................. I do hope red team is able to somehow have fun in this event

[hgduo]

they are literally just gone...

[pearl-blue-musings]

Hi!! Can I order spaghetti (msby) with mashed potatoes and green beans split between me and atsumu?

YES AHHHHH thank you for giving me my first haikyuu ask!!!! This was so much fun to write and think about!

ALSO I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE MANY MANY APOLOGIES 

A/n: I wrote this with some ideas I got from @cestcirque and her smau (which you absolutely must check out!) for this soulmate au, when you look into the eyes of your soulmate your world changes from black and whites to bursting with color. This is also post time skip so Atsumu is a wonderful black jackal

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x photographer!fem!reader

once again I got carried away what else did you expect from me

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy calling, biting, slight edging, oral (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, relatively tame!

Enjoy your meal

~~~~~~~~

With sweat dripping down his face, Miya Atsumu was bursting with energy. It was down to the final point of the match and he was itching to win. It’s already been over a month since Hinata joined MSBY and their chemistry on the court has been proven a formidable force. First against the Adlers, and now with his former high school teammates team, EJP. His eyes are alight with a fire and desire to win. He can feel the rush of winning cloud over him as he keeps his eye on his teammates, setting the ball perfectly to the man everyone describes as an orange haired ball of sunshine in order to score the final set point. The yell of victory leaves his throat before he can process everything. His eyes scans the crowd of fans that have come to watch him, being excited but also a pang of emptiness hits him.

If only he could see the colors everyone talks about around him. 

Everything is greyscale for the man, who he’s been told has a strange yellow hue to his hair. Atsumu didn’t know what the color would look like but liked how it would be marked as different and easy to see when you get to see color. He resents the fact that his twin Osamu laughs freely at his hair color. The normal haired twin, to him, had met his soulmate in one of his business classes and demanded a facetime with his twin. Atsumu was angry at first, but on the inside was happy his brother had met his soulmate and his life bursting with color. 

Surely, he’d meet his soon right?

Atsumu is pulled from his thoughts when Bokuto wraps his arm around his shoulder to pull him into a hug and briefly chat.

“Hey hey hey! Why didn’t you set it to me at the end, huh? You can’t keep giving Hinata all the glory!”

“They were expectin’ ya. I couldn’t Bo. ‘Sides, we won that’s all that matters.”

The flash of cameras after games were very common. With different sports magazines and editors showing up to cover the game, it was something the team was used to. As per usual, a camera-person came up to him and Bokuto, completely ignoring who was taking the picture focusing on the lens. Once his eyes meet the lens, he puts on his signature smile and puts a thumbs up with his teammate for the photo op.

It had all happened so fast. 

You had been called to fill in at the last minute to take photos for the MSBY Black Jackals volleyball game. You didn’t think anything of it other than doing a favor for a friend. And this was an incredible opportunity for you, an amazing way to expand your sprouting portfolio. In this world of soulmates you live in, it was unheard of. Your pictures and photos always came out with the utmost care and perfection, despite not being able to see any of the colors to truly work the right lighting and angles. Even though touching and editing required the use of being able to see colors, somehow your eyes went beyond that and captured everything in a natural way that everyone could understand the message and point of all your photos.  

It was absolutely exquisite and breathtaking.

You had never been to a volleyball game before and you were hit with how exciting it was. The energy from the players and the fast fed into your blood as you began and continued to capture pictures of the game. It wasn’t just a regular game, it was an experience and you figured it was different for everyone. And as you felt that, you knew you wanted to capture it.

It was in moments like these you envied those around you who were able to see color. You yearned for the day you would be able to see all the colors that your peers and employers have paraded you for. Hopefully when you finally meet the one, you’ll be able to do your job even better. 

Before you knew it, the game had ended and you were doing what all the other photographers were doing by taking pictures of the tired and sweaty players as they interact with each other and their fans. You slowly walk toward the court, fixing and switching your lenses for up close pictures. You happen to place your camera right at your eye, seeing two players not looking your way yet as they were engaged in their own private conversation. Once you get their attention, you make eye contact with both before snapping the picture.

You had almost dropped your camera, lucky for the strap around your neck holding it together. You don’t even check your camera, knowing the picture came out horrible. But as you hold the black camera in your hands with your jaw slack-

Wait, black? That’s right it’s black.

And one of the two players in front of you had a matched expression on his face.

Atsumu should have asked his brother what it would be like when he meets his soulmate in order to prepare himself. He’s seriously kicking himself now as the bright white lights bounce of the beige and tan floor of the wooden court. He looks down to see his black and white jersey, the streaks of red and green on certain parts of the floor, the blues, yellows, and whites of the volleyball...

And the all encasing beauty that was you. 

Everything about you was stunning, he wasn’t sure where to look next. However his thoughts were interrupted by a boisterous yell next to him.

“Hey ‘Tsumu! Why’d you stop?”

The blond haired man turns to his friend and gives him a new look over. “Did ya know yer hair is two diff’rent colors?”

Bokuto freezes and attempts to look up at his hair and smiles widely. “Yeah! Yukie keeps it nice for me and- No way! Where are they?”

The owl like man quickly shakes his head back and forth throughout the crowd looking for his teammates soulmate is! He’s interrupted with a tap on the shoulder from the man in question.

Atsumu points to where you’re still starstruck, taking in everything around you.

“Her.”

You felt as if time had lost all meaning as the colors all around you began to come to life, being as lively and vibrant as everyone above you had described. You had zero expectations of ever meeting your soulmate, let alone at a randomly assigned job. You’re unaware of what your body is doing, but your feet are moving across the plane as you walk closer to the man who’s staring at you in a way you’d always hoped to be gazed at.

He’s taller than you thought he’d be up close, but you can smell his musk and sweat and you’re not turned off like you’d always been. The way his bright yellow hair matches his personality, from what you’ve seen, on the court makes your heart melt. It’s almost like everything about him is perfect. The way his eyes are tired but full of vitality isn’t lost on you, and he seems to see the same thing in yours. 

Atsumu for once is at a loss for words. There’s so many ways he had pictured this going but surely not like this. He opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes catch a gathering crowd. 

“Aw, shoot. There’s for sure gonna be a crowd comin’. Meet me after by the exit? I promise I’ll make it quick...”

“(Y-y/n).”

He chuckles and places one hand on his hip and the other in his hair. “Heh, cute name for a cutie like ya self. Name’s Atsumu. Wait for me will ya?”

You merely nod and watch him smirk at you before he meets up with his teammates to celebrate their win. You’re left standing there trying to process what just happened as he turns around one more time to wink at you. If you could melt, you would. You gather your yourself, pick up your camera and try to stealthily avoid any reporters and the like. Since this was your first volleyball match, you had no idea the power just being in the presence of Miya Atsumu held.

Fan girls and other photographers began to swarm you as you attempted to blend in the crowd. All these women had beautiful hair, beautiful complexions; you couldn’t wait to start taking photos in color. Not the right thought to have as you’re getting bombarded but what can you do?

Luckily you’re swept away by another photographer who saw your pain and helped you out. You thanked her and followed her to where the media had access. She wished you luck as she led you to where Atsumu wanted you to meet him.

About 30 minutes later, he comes out with a few of his teammates, laughing gleefully and somehow that made your heart flutter. How did you get paired up with a man like this? The soulmate gods must have really been looking out for you.

Once his beautiful deep eyes meet yours, his gaze softens as he walks toward you. His teammates tell him goodbye and that they’ll message him later. As he approaches you, he has to pinch himself to realize that this is real and it’s happening to him.

He speaks up first again, eager to hear your voice again. “Hiya.”

You giggle at his intro. To him, it sounded like heaven opened up and the angels were singing all around him. He gets to have this laugh to himself? Call himself blessed. 

“I never thought I’d actually meet ma soulmate. And yet, here ya are.”

He extends his hand out to you and you take it, noticing how warm and calloused it is against yours. There’s no way life could be this perfect. You rub your thumb on the back of his palm and stare into his eyes.

“Here we are.”

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

You’d think you’d be used to hosting events for his teammates at your shared place after almost a couple years of being together. but something always surprises you. This time, it turned out fate was working in mysterious ways today. On the way to your place, Hinata had met his soulmate and brought them to the gathering! Needless to say they were overwhelmed but in a good way. Sakusa was slightly concerned over the presence of someone new whom he didn’t know very well, but tolerated it for his friend’s happiness.

You’ve just finished washing the dishes as Atsumu dries whatever is left. You wipe your brow and sigh heavily. Your boyfriend looks over to you and smirks. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout baby?”

You smirk at him before leaning your head on his shoulder, “just, life I guess.”

The young man sighs contentedly, places the dried dishes in the rack, and kisses your forehead. “Care to elaborate? Or am I gonna have to tickle the info outta ya?”

You hear the smirk in his tone as he wraps his arms around your waist, pinching and tickling your sides. Your laugh bubbles in the air as you squeal and squirm against Atsumu’s grip. His tout body keeps you against him, holding you tight so you can’t escape his embrace. “’Tsumu! I give, I give!”

“Nuh uh babycakes,” he growls in your ear, “I’m not done with ya.”

You laugh harder as you feel him lift you off the ground, turn you around, and sit you on the counter. With his hands firmly on your waist, he surprises you with a small yet passionate kiss on the lips. Your hands fall onto his neck and face to pull him closer to you. 

You pull away and notice him bite his lip. “What was that for?” You don’t miss the way his eyes glaze over as you question him. 

“I just love ya so much. I never thought life would be s’ fulfilling once I got some color into it. Thought it was all mumbo jumbo, whatever.” He places his body in between your legs, letting your breaths intermingle. “Ya love my team, my friends, my family, and most importantly,” he trails off brushing your noses together. 

“Ya love me.” 

“You’re such a sap.”

“Hah?! But that’s why ya love me, right?”

You keep teasing him as you continue to touch along his broad shoulders. “Nah, I’m mostly in it for the money.” You peck his nose and grin at his pouting features.

“Aw c’mon (Y/n)! Yer making almost as much as me with all yer photos,” he argues back, missing your teasing tone. You can’t help but laugh at the pout your soulmate is giving you. It’s almost too easy to fake argue with him to get him riled up. 

You lay your head on his shoulder and can’t hold back your laughs. “Baby,” you coo, “you know I’m teasing you right?”

Since you can’t see his face, you don’t see the ever growing smirk as he nods into you. The blond tightens his grip on your hips, pulling you into his crotch so your neck is free for him to attack with his lips. He starts to kiss and suck lightly on your open neck, catching you off guard.

“Oh I know baby,” he lightly grinds his clothed erection against you, “I was just messin’ with ya.”

You lift your head in fake anger, but it dissolves when the lust in his eyes matches yours. He steals your lips before you could protest or bite back a response. The burning desire within you begins to rise as you feel his cock against your core, causing you to moan lowly into his mouth. 

“Mmm, feel my cock baby? Feels good, yeah? Been wantin to touch ya all evenin’.” He then brings your legs to wrap around his waist and continues to kiss you seductively. You feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip before entering your mouth. His deep groan into went straight to your core and you move your hips into him. Atsumu lifts an eyebrow before pulling away, loving the connection of saliva between your lips. 

“I can already feel how wet ya are fer me, baby. Ya really want daddy that bad, huh?”

You can’t help but shiver at his voice when he says daddy to you and wiggle your hips, knowing what you’re in for. A whine leaves your lips as you pull him into your chest to feel him against you and so you can whisper in his ear how much you want him, your daddy.

Atsumu bites his lip and rolls his hips into yours at hearing and feeling your breath on his ear. He then promptly lifts you up, rest thing his lips to yours as his hands grope and fondle your ass. You can’t help but shift around as he carries you to your shared bedroom, seeking friction in any capacity. Atsumu chuckles darkly feeling you struggle against him, breaking the kiss to suck on your neck. If there was something he loved more than volleyball or you, it was leaving marks and traces of him all over you. Satisfied with the mark he left he growls out,

“I can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy you, princess.”

With that, you’re dropped onto the bed, awaiting orders from your love. His whole aura switched from teasing and playful in the kitchen to a sexual dom and you were living for it. 

“Take off yer shirt off, I wanna see all of ya.”

You lick your lips and nod, slowly removing your shirt and making a show of it. You don’t miss the way he bites his lip and whispers out a low “fuck” as you undress. You leave your bra on knowing that’s one of Atsumu’s favorite things to take off of you. You place your hands on the hem of your leggings and look to him, as if to ask him if it’s okay. He nods and you slowly remove them from your body, leaving you in your bra and thong ready for him on the bed.

The tall blond stalks toward the bed and situates himself in-between your legs. He brings his lips to your inner thigh, his brown eyes on you to watch for your reactions. His lips trail up the sensitive skin, kissing and biting as he gets closer to your awaiting heat. But he doesn’t give you what you want, not yet. He hears you whine as he moves to your other thigh and repeats the same actions. He can feel the heat your pussy is emanating, already seeing your juices leak out.

You whimper out, “fuck, please just do it!”

He sniffs, enjoying your smell as he slowly pushes your thong to the side. “Please what baby? Ya gotta use yer words.”

You hips roll as his fingertips graze over where you want him the most. You hate his teasing nature, but you love the reward you get after. “P-please just put your tongue in me!”

Atsumu snickers before enticingly putting his tongue into your slit, making you gasp out and grab at his hair. He hums happily as he laps at you greedily. His tongue swirls inside of you in the best way. Your hips move off the mattress as your voice lets curses and whines escape. 

“Nuh uh baby girl. Ya gotta stay still fer daddy.” At that you feel a weight on your pelvis, realizing its his arm to hold you steady. With you unable to move, the need for release bubbles faster. Your breathing gets deeper and your voice rises an octave. Atsumu was always a king with his tongue, and for some reason tonight he was pulling out all the stops. Once you think you can catch your breath, he sucks hard on your clit and inserts a finger into you.

“Haah, fuck daddy!”

He laughs into your cunt and you moan at the vibrations. His tongue directly on your clit is making you see stars. He slyly inserts a second finger, already feeling you clench and tighten around him. That won’t do. He can’t have you cumming on just his fingers, but he does need to prep you. Before putting a third finger in, he sucks on your swollen nub to have you screaming in pleasure. His fingers scissor and stretch you out and it takes everything in him to not add a fourth. He knows you two haven’t discussed it so he knew to table it for another time.

“Shit, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum. Please daddy can I cum?”

That makes him take his eyes off his fingers and to look at you directly and ceases his actions. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and crawls on top of you. “Suck,” he commands and you do as you’re told. You’re a little miffed at not being able to cum as your pussy clenches at nothing while you suck his fingers. You know you’re doing a good job when you hear him groan and lose eye contact with you. You get into the valleys of his fingers and he moans, “yeah ya like daddy’s fingers? I know ya do. Now kiss me.”

He tilts your head up and you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself again but on his lips. You feel him align his warm dick with your slick entrance and whine into the kiss. You break away from the kiss to tap his shoulder. 

“Wait ‘Tsumu,” you pant, “condom?”

He stops everything before frantically reaching for the nightstand. Atsumu knows he can get carried away when he’s in the moment, so he knows that when he gets tapped on the shoulder he’s forgotten something or needs to slow down. 

“Ah sorry, baby.” His voice sinks as he sucks his teeth feeling the rubber cover his dick. “Are we okay ta keep goin’?” 

You smile and nod at him, placing your hands on his chest in reassurance. He meets your smile and kisses your lips softly. “You ready ta take daddy’s hard cock?”

“Fuck,” you moan, “just fuck me already-Ah!”

He didn’t need anymore goading as he slides himself inside you. Your walls tighten around him and he has to control himself from wanting to pound into you. He waits for you to adjust to him before he pulls out almost all the way before your hips meet again.

“Ya feel so good, princess. Ya like the way daddy fucks ya?”

You nod aimlessly. “Yes! Please, I want more!”

His smile is evil as he grabs one of your legs and hoists it on his shoulder. “Be careful what ya wish fer,” he growls before snapping his hips forward. The two of you whine and moan together, unable to hear the sound of your juices and his hips squelching. “Aw fuck, baby ya feel too good.” He’s got one hand on your leg to hold it against his chest and the other rests lazily on your hip. He continues to fuck you into the mattress, your hands holding onto the head board behind you. Atsumu catches this and is displeased. He abruptly stops and places your leg down and around his waist, doing the same to your other leg, You look at him confused, “why, what are you doing?”

“I didn’t like the way you were grabbin’ the headboard, so you’re gonna grab onta me.”

With that he keeps pounding into you, now with your arms around his back. He’s never admitted it, but he loves the way you scratch and grip at his back when you two have sex. It drives him wild. “That’s it, baby. Hold on ta daddy as he fucks ya.”

Your garble out something as you hold him harder, realizing a free hand had escaped your upper body and has snaked its way to your clit. He begins to rub small and fast circles on the swollen nub, grinning at your reactions. He’s never sure which part he loves best: the way your voice gets incredibly lewd or how tight you get around him. This time he thinks it’s both. He continues to rub at your clit vigorously while pounding you all the same.

Sweat clings to each of your bodies as the rush of release is evident. Your eyebrows are scrunched tightly as you feel your orgasm coming. With a shaky breath you whimper, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Please lemme cum daddy. I’ve been so good!” 

His hips rut into you as he chases his own release. “Yeah ya have. Been such a good girl fer me. Fuck baby ya feel amazin’! I’m gonna cum so hard. Cum with me baby girl.” His body moves faster the closer he gets to climax. Your legs are shaking and your toes curled as you feel the coil within you come undone.

You scream out, “I’m cumming baby, I’m cum-ah fuck!”

You tighten around him, causing him to curse and whine as he loses his rhythm. “Shit baby girl, I hnng,” he feels the condom fill with his seed as he humps the both of you through your orgasms. His grip on you loosens as he comes down from his high, rubbing them with comfort. He stays on top of you but not pressing down into you. The afterglow the two of you bask in is always something he looks forward to. His breathing returns to normal after a couple minutes of the two of you just laying with each other. 

“Fuck ‘Tsumu,” you croak out, “that was s-so good. Could you pull out?”

Atsumu lazily nods and slowly pulls out of you, not wanting to cause you any pain. Once he’s out, he gets off the bed and takes off the condom, tying it up and placing it in the trash can. He returns to the bed to place a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “You were so good ta me. Lemme grab us some water and towels, yeah? Do ya want a shower or a bath?”

You groan and roll to your side. “Some water.”

“Baby, I know, but a bath or shower?”

“I can barely move, Atsumu, what do you think?”

He chuckles before leaving the room and announcing, “I’ll get tha bath started.” He’s gone for a few minutes, but returns with two water bottles and a towel as you hear the bathtub being filled with water. He sits down next to you and places the bottles down. He opens one and hands it to you. You thank him and drink down about half of the bottle. He drinks from his own and uses his empty hand to trace the curve of your face. 

“Hey (Y/n)”

You lift your eyebrow at him, giving him your attention.

“Ya know I love ya, right?”

You hum and nod, sitting up to wrap your arms around his shoulders and give his cheek a kiss. “I love you so much, Atsumu. No one is gonna break our bond okay? We’re soulmates.”

He takes one of your hands into his gently, leaning into your touch. “I know I’m not here a lot cause of volleyball. But I do love ya. Yer my baby girl.”

You chuckle lightly and kiss his cheek again. “Sap.”

“Ya know ya love it. Now let’s go take a bath, yeah?”

~~~~~~~~

The diner is closed

[palettepainter]

Part of the family

Idk what Ecto’s birth name is so I’m going to have his parents/other characters refer to Ecto as Ekuto. It translates to ecto in Japanese, real creative but I’ll use it as his birth name till we get a cannon one confirmed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Higari scratched at the collar of his shirt, and then tugged uncomfortably at the waist of his trousers

“I’m really not used to wearing this monkey suit..” he said mostly to himself, looking down at his blazer he’d dusted off from his cupboard. Higari only owned one formal suit, and only ever wore it on rare occasions. Even after spending so many years teaching at UA and attending so many events or interviews, he’d never gotten used to all this fancy shmancy stuff.

“Well you look very handsome in one~” Ecto stood near by in the hotel room comparing bow ties, one hand on his hip and other on his chin. He too was also in a suit, the two both dressed up for a night out at a formal party event. The two had been invited as guests to a charity event by Ecto’s parents, who where two key supports of said event. Really they where attending as undercover security, so obviously they had to fit the part

Higari peered over to his husband, gave him a cheeky glance up and down before walking over. “You don’t look half bad yourself” he said with a lazed smirk, hand snaking it’s way over and around Ecto’s hips. Ecto hummed again him, raising one brow before he lifted up a red bow. “Hm..how about this one?” He asked

Higari shrugged “You know suits better then me, not like I got any clue which bow goes with what dress shirt”

“Oh stop it” Ectoplasm said, kneeling down to help tie the bow in place. With Higari’s altered finger tips it made things like tying bows all the more challenging, thankfully Ecto was skilled in the art and had the bow on Higari in a matter of seconds “You look wonderful!” he straightened out his blazer, and for good measure, nuzzled his nose on Higari’s forehead in the form of a kiss “Besides, it’s only for a few hours. When we get back you can change into something more comfortable”

“Or waddle around naked” Higari suggested, waiting eagerly to see Ecto’s reaction. Knowing it was oh so easy to get Ecto flustered

Ecto hummed, as if pretending to think it over, managing to remain calm before the corner of his mouth crinkled up into a smile “Hm..maybe~” Higari’s trade mark grin spread across his face with a giggle. Ecto tried to keep cool even if the face of his husbands adorable little laugh “But lets save that for after the party. I don’t want you causing mischief”

Higari hummed, humoured, sensing a challenge. Expertly he sauntered his way over and looped his arms around Ecto from behind, pressing his face into the small of Ecto’s back “Hm, are you calling me a bad boy?~”

Ecto turned as best he could to peer down at Higari, his brow cocked in amusement at his antics, struggling to keep a neutral tone despite how flustered he was actually feeling from Higari’s flirting - the sneaky mink “I won’t hesitate to put you in your place if that’s what you’re implying”

Ecto could tell Higari had one of those smiles on his face, but before Higari could say anymore Ecto pried his arms off him. Higari let out a small whine, disappointed the fun was over “However, we do have a charity event to get to” he said while releasing Higari’s hands, pulling on his blazer that he hung on the chair. Higari crossed his arms, hiding a pout behind his fringe “Mn, yeah I guess so..”

“Don’t whine” Ecto said, mocking a tone a mother would use with a child. “..It won’t be that bad” he reassured while looking himself over in the small mirror by the cupboard “They’ll be food and drinks, and all we have to do is mingle and be prepared if something calls for us to step in”

“Mm, yeah I guess” Higari said

He joined Ecto over at the door before the two walked out together into the hall. Higari had been to a few arguably fancy events, the fanciest it ever got at UA where interviews with the press outside UA grounds, or the UA prom for the third years, that was about it. Don’t get him wrong, Higari still preferred a pair of joggers to a suit and bow, but alas he’d signed up for this when he became a teacher at UA. As much as he didn’t like formal events, too crowded for his liking, they had to set a good example for UA

And going to a formal event with Ecto made it bearable.

Upon arriving at the venue the first thing he noticed was how bright everything was, didn’t help his sensitive eye sight. He tried to not let it bother him as he and Ecto stepped out of their car and made their way inside to a large main room where all the guests where gathered. Thank god Ecto was tall, at the very least he could navigate this maze, Higari couldn’t see over the top of all the other guests even if he tried! After checking in with the rest of the security and into the main hall Ecto grabbed for Higari’s hand

“Lets go and wait over at the side” Ecto said, already making his way through the crowd with Higari on his tail towards the side of the room, where the two where somehow able to find an unoccupied table in the sea of people. “Didn’t think it’d be this busy” Higari said while observing the room, he couldn’t help but feel a little weird - being in such a decorated room with all these fancy rich people.

“Me too” Ecto said, returning to the table with two wine glasses. “Regardless, we should try and enjoy ourselves” he handed Higari a glass, which he accepted with a small nod of thanks. He swigged it down in a swift gulp, Ecto blinked, taken a back. “Careful there..” he teased, drinking lightly from his own glass. “Sorry Ecto” Higari said, placing his glass back down onto the table “Big events like this always make me nervous..” he admitted, if it was anyone else other then Ecto he wouldn’t have shared such a personal fear

“It’s alright, just remember it’s only for a few hours. And if nothing goes wrong we may be allowed to leave early”

Higari hummed in reply, one hand tapping on the table while he idly glanced about the room, trying to see if their was anything else in here other then a crowd of bustling people. With his hair brushed aside it made seeing things a bit more easier, which is why it didn’t take him long to recognise an approaching face in the crowd.

“Angel!” Mrs. Kurōn, Ecto’s mother, happily emerged from the crowd and rushed over as quickly as she could towards the table, Ecto already standing from his chair to greet her. “Oh I’m so happy you two could make it!” She said, greeting Ecto with a quick hug before she looked to Higari “It’s so nice to see some familiar family faces! - and Higari, it’s lovely to see you could make it too dear!”

“Evening Mrs. Kurōn” Higari said, waving his hand. Despite having already met Ecto’s parents he was still a little shy around them, maybe it was added nervousness of the fancy party making him feel particular shy, he wasn’t sure.

“Where’s dad?” Ecto asked, looking around to try and identify his other parent “I haven’t see him yet, he’s not with you?”

“Your father is catching up with some old work colleagues” Mrs. Kurōn answered while she straighten out Ecto’s tie, smiling at the dorky spotty pattern he’d chosen. “I doubt he’ll be too long” she said “He’s a social butterfly, I’m sure you’ll bump into him at some point - you remember Mister Zeikin?”

Ecto thought for a moment before his eyes widened with realisation “Yes I remember, didnt dad say he was one of his old team members before you and him married? He came round for dinner a few times”

His mother nodded “Yes he was, he’s the one who helped organise the decorating for this event. Oh! And you remember Megumi? She’s here too!”

“Megumi?..” Ecto repeated, thinking once again before he smiled “I haven’t seen her since..god it must have been at our prom party at UA” he said, my how time flied. Higari looked to and from between them, not understanding who they where talking about but obviously seeing that Ecto must have clearly known of them “Seems like centuries ago doesn’t it? I still have those prom photos laying about somewhere at home” Mrs. Kurōn suddenly gasped, and put a hand on Ecto’s shoulder “Why don’t we go over and see them? You two where good friends back at UA, I’m sure she’d be very surprised to see you again!”

“Hm..well, mum-“ Ecto looked back towards Higari, who sensing Ecto’s worries raised his hand “Don’t worry about me, you can leave me alone for ten minutes” Higari smiled and gestured away “Go mingle, tell Mr. Kurōn I said hi”

“Are you sure?” Ecto repeated, clearly not convinced. “You could always come with us” Higari again simply repeated his gesture “I’ll be fine! I’m a grown man, don’t worry. Sides-“ he shrugged “I don’t her, I wouldn’t know what to say. I’d just be awkward”

“Hm..” Ecto threw a glance over his shoulder to the crowd and then to his mother, who smiled wider. He hummed again “..Well” his worry melted away, a relieved smile coming to his face “Alright then!” He turned around, his mother leading the way “I won’t be long!” He called to Higari just as they got swept up into the crowd. Higari waved goodbye until Ecto and Mrs. Kurōn was out of sight, guess it was just him now.

Thirty minutes passed, and Higari restrained himself from glancing down to his watch again.

“Hm..Ecto’s been gone a while” he said to the empty table, one hand holding his face while the other fiddled with the salad fork. Busying himself with tinkering away at one of his inventions was off the table with the current location he was in, he figured it wouldn’t be very ‘proper’ of him to suddenly start rebuilding a toaster in front of all these guests. Not like he needed to give them a reason to stare. “Maybe I’ll see what there is to eat” he suggested, sliding off his chair as he tried to locate the food table.

These kinds of parties always had the weirdest foods, and always in such small servings, Higari could never wrap his head around it. He’d hoped there’d be something at this food table that would satisfy his hunger until they could back to the hotel room, where he’d already decided he’d order the most greasiest take out junk food if this party food ended up being like all the rest. Reaching the table he was glad he kept his expectations low, as expected all the food was tiny, bowls of expertly prepared salads, a board full to the brim with cheeses, beautiful made sushi pieces, rice cakes - nothing he hadn’t seen before at fancy events.

Thinking it was better then nothing he picked up a plate and two rice cakes “Guess this’ll do” he muttered, and tried to make his way back towards his table...key word being try. Trying to navigate his way back from point B to A was harder then he thought, finding a needle in a hay stack seemed easier then this! With a snort he gave up on his mission, and instead made himself comfy on one of the balconies overlooking the venues garden, which was also lighted and decorated appropriately to match with the main hall.

He picked up a rice cake and munched into it, blinking slowly - god this was boring. At this rate he was starting to wish something would happen that required security to step in, at least that would give him something to do..

“Excuse me?”

Higari hummed, mouth full of rice cake as he turned to the owner of a voice. A fairly sizeable man stood at the entrance back inside the building, his shirt looked just a bit too tight over the skin of his stomach, his eyes looked at Higari with a somewhat studying look. It made Higari feel fidgety. He quickly swallowed his mouthful, trying to discreetly wipe his mouth to get rid of any rice that stuck onto his face “Uh, did you need something?” He asked, turning back up to the man who approached with a hum

“By chance are you..Higari?”

Higari rose a suspicious brow under his hair but tried to keep his suspicion hidden “Yes” he answered. The man stood next to Higari with a look he couldn’t place his finger on, there was something about it he didn’t like. It made a sickly familiar feeling of worry present inside him. His lips where pulled back into a smile, at least, Higari thought it was a smile - despite how it gave him the unfortunate impression that it was forced “Hm, my I didn’t think I’d get to see the man himself..” the man peered down at Higari for a long moment, as though he was a specimen under a microscope, it made Higari shudder

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know you..”

“I’m Mister Zeikin” the man seemed to puff out his chest, as if to symbolise his importance or his name was a grand title. Zeikin? That name sounded familiar “Hm..Oh yeah” Higari nodded lightly “Ecto’s m-Uh..Mrs Kurōn told me you where talking with her husband” the man nodded, turning his gaze to the horizon, one hand lightly swirling the wine in his glass. “Hm yes yes, my dear friend Akarui, known to you as Mr Kurōn, mentioned you when his wife and son came over.” He took an unhurried sip of his drink, eyes admiring his glass once he was finished “And I just had to see if his words held true”

Higari still didn’t understand, but the man was soon turning back to look at him before he could remain confused for much longer “Well done, Higari. You truly are a fascinating man” he praised warmly “So very charming from what I hear of, and sweeping Ekuto off his feet. Lucky him indeed”

Higari felt surprisingly flattered at the praise, growing sheepish at this flood of compliments. He awkwardly rubbed at his neck, smiling regardless “...Well, thank you.”

“But of course!” Zeikin pressed “Its astonishingly brave that you can be so open with displaying such affections..” His gaze slowly returned to Higari, his eyes lingering on him, a glint in his eye. “...Well, all things considered”

Higari bristled, though the man was still smiling, Higari felt attacked at the way he’d worded his sentence. His eyes narrowed “..Whats that supposed to mean?” He asked, leaning his head back to peer up at him.

Zeikin took another slow sip from his drink, smooth and slow as though Higari’s suspicion wasn’t noticeable. He had an air of confidence around him, as he turned back down to Higari “My fine fellow I mean no ill will. I’m sure you are a very...adorable lover” he offered politely “I just can’t help but think about the insecurities that come with the role”

“...Insecurities??” Higari blinked, his cheeks heating up “Theres nothing about our relationship that-“

“You’re from country aren’t you?” That cursed smile finally dropped, his tone all of a sudden flat “It leads a man to wonder just how it is Akarui’s son ever settled for..” Higari didn’t like the look he was giving him, regarding him with the same interest someone may give a piece of gum on the sidewalk “..someone so inferior”

“I...” Higari tried to bite back his temper, he’d hate himself if he lost his temper at an event that was so important to Ecto’s parents. He’d never forgive himself. He tried to take a calming breath, tried to think of happy things, but his insecurities - insecurities this man had targeted - they began to mock him, making his anger rise more. “That’s not any of your business sir” Higari tried to say without growling

“Ah, but it is” the man insisted with detached happiness, as though he was talking with a child. Higari stiffened “You see, Akarui and his family are dearly close to me, despite his.. imbecility” he casted a side ways scowl off into the distance “I would simply hate for something to taint their families image. Wouldn’t you agree?” He looked back down to Higari, who remained frozen, not seeming able to move, his legs not responding to his mind telling him to just walk away. Turn around and walk away! But he couldn’t, he felt offended, how dare he even think Ecto would view him that way!

Ecto would never!...r-right?..

“Ecto would never think of me that way” Higari was now furious, and it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his cool

“Oh well of course he wouldn’t” Zeikin held up his hand, trying to appear passive, and fixing Higari with a look that dropped with artificial sympathy “The dear Kurōn family are far too polite to ever show such disbain openly.”

“...I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about” Higari managed to conjure words despite still being paralysed, face hot, eyes shiny. “They wouldn’t-..” he corrected himself “Don’t think of me that way”

“Hm, perhaps” Zeikin nodded, peering skyward, not meeting Higari’s eyes. “Perhaps I am wrong, perhaps my years of knowledge through being their work colleague and associate do not mean a thing at all to you, perhaps the idea they may look at you differently is so foreign to you. You play the role very well, I commend you!” He gestured towards Higari with a titled head “Dressing up in that fancy suit, attending a formal gathering such as this, all for an attempt to fit in with a crowd not meant to house someone of your background. Yet, you try anyway. How very brave of you”

Higari’s throat suddenly felt tight, eyes stinging as tears swelled in the corners “Are you...mocking me?” His voice was shaky, something fragile behind the front he tried to put up.

“Heavens no” he looked offended at Higari’s weak question, scoffing “Conformity happens with everyone, I just find...amusement in your particular case.” He smiled, teeth an all, eyes narrowed cruelly at Higari, who looked timid. “To think you ever thought someone like you would ever be accepted.”

Higari stumbled back a foot, breathing going funny as he desperately tried to think of a response-

“I do hope we aren’t interrupting anything important.”

Higari startled, almost falling over his own feet. Behind him, standing less then three feet away was Akarui, Ectoplasms father. Brows creased like gathering thunder heads, mouth pressed into a thin frown with his arms crossed, not looking impressed. Behind him just off of the balcony, just looking to have caught up, was Ecto and Mrs Kurōn. At the sight of Ecto Higari flinched, curling up and looking away. Akarui’s look softened, concerned, before he fixed the business man across from his with a withering glare.

“I do hope you have a good explanation for this, Zeikin.” His eyes narrowed “For your sake.”

The man looked to do a double take, blinking “Ah, Akarui” his calm facade still held, but it was obvious the man standing behind Higari was not falling for it, cocking a bold brow. “So..wonderful you could join us” he smiled, walking closer. Akarui stepped forward without hesitation to shield Higari from view with his taller stature. Higari glanced up to him in confusion, blinking back tears

“We where simply having a talk amongst men” He assured, but Akarui’s frown only deepened. “It didn’t soundthat way” he stated, not subtly at all. Zeikin looked to him as though he’d been slapped, as Ecto and Mrs Kurōn hurried their way over.

“Higari? Are you okay?” Ecto asked, crouching down slightly to be at eye level with Higari, sensing almost instantly that something was wrong. Higari flinched away when Ecto reached for him, and he felt guilty immediately after. “Higari?..” Ecto said quietly, his hand lowering

Zeikin offered his colleague a grin, one that looked too wide “Whatever are you talking about Akarui?” He glanced down to Higari who Akarui stood in front of, he shot Zeikin a warning glare while Higari tried to hide himself from the mans sight. “It was but a simple conversation, a time for me to air some..thoughts on your..” Zeikin looked to be struggling to find the right words, everyone’s eyes (minus Higari’s) all on him.

“..new acquaintance-“

Slap

Akarui slapped away the others hand that was gesturing to Higari, eyes boring into him with a look that could kill. Zeikin baffled, pulling his hand back to him while fixing Akarui with a scowl. “I will have you know, that acquaintance you are referring to, has a name.” Zeikin opened his mouth to repomand Akarui for daring to hithim, but Akarui beat him to the punch, not giving him time to find his words.

“And he, Higari, happens to be my sons romantic other, and my son in law” he said sternly, loosing patience, what little of it had left for the fat cat before him.

Zeikin looked caught off guard, not expecting that kind of powerful reply from his work partner. He rose an unimpressed brow, fixing him with an equally icy look, Akarui failed to cower even as Zeikin took a step closer. “How very noble of you Akarui. Always playing the role of hero infront of your son aren’t you” he whispered, Akarui growled, a warning. “Can’t help but want to defend those who feel..out of place-“

Ecto had heard clearly what had been said, his mother gasping quietly. Ecto sneered, and leapt to speak-

“Perhaps I am not making myself clear enough.” Akarui stated calmly, closing his eyes “Allow me to say this once. Nicely.”

White, powerful light suddenly burst from Akauri’s eyes, like the birth of a new star. His eyes glowed hot with the heat of the sun, the light pouring from his eyes startling Zeikin, his own scared reflection staring back at him from Akauri’s empty white eyes. “My sons happiness, means everything to me and my wife. If you ever dare to try and intervene with that again, or try to approach Higari again..” he narrowed his eyes, his eyes glowing brighter, making him appear imposing, powerful. Eventually, Zeikin looked away, accepting defeat “You will be answering to me.”

Akarui blinked, and the light vanished, his cold merciless glare remaining as he fixed Zeikin with another deep frown “Do I make myself clear?”

“....Crystal.”

“Good” Akarui said, his tone to the point. “...I think it’d be better if you took your leave Zeikin” Akarui stepped aside and tilted his head over towards the entrance back inside the building.

Zeikin looked stuck, refusing to admit his loss, he straightened his tie and stood up straight - pretending as though his scare mere minutes ago hadn’t happened “Hm..Yes, maybe I will.” He dusted off his arm, acting aloof “Company in the main hall will be far better then wi-“

“No” Mrs Kurōn, who had remained quite until now fixed the man with her own scowl, Ecto doing the same with his arms wrapped around Higari. “We think you should leave” she repeated. Even Higari was taken aback by her sudden shift in tone, not knowing the gentle women could be capable of sounding angry. Zeikin gawked, working his jaw and looking rapidly between the two, waiting for one of them to admit it was a joke.

“...Hurry along” Akarui said, tilting his head again towards the building, not flinching even as Zeikin got dangerously close to his face to glare at him. Akarui remained standing where he was, before Zeikin, with a small snort, hurried off back inside and out of sight

Akarui let out a breath, shoulders slumping.

“Higari are you okay?” Ecto’s hands cupped Higari’s cheeks, noticing how his eyes looked teary, his worry grew ten fold at the sight as his heart plummeted at seeing him so sad “He didn’t try anything did he?” Ecto shook his head “I shouldn’t have left you alone!..”

“N-No no!” Higari waved his hands, taking Ecto’s hands away from his face as he tried to desperately rid the tears that where close to pouring down his cheeks. “I’m- I-I’m fine, he just..don’t worry about it” Ecto didn’t look convinced, nor did his mother, who’s eyes widened when she caught sight of a single tear falling down his face. “Oh honey..” she quickly pulled a tissue out of her small bag and held it out to him, just as Higari sniffled, the dams beginning to break.

“Come on” Ecto gently held Higari’s hand, the feeling of something familiar, something tender and soft helped calm his racing heart beat. He accepted the tissue, drying his eyes, overcome with embarrassment at being seen crying of all things - he’d only ever cried in front of Ecto and his family back in the country. “Let’s head back inside” Ecto stood and began to guide Higari back towards the building “No point in staying out in the cold”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour had passed, Higari was now a little calmer.

He currently sat in the buildings parking lot, having some air, he needed to have a moment to himself to calm down and gather his thoughts. He felt ashamed, feeling to need to walk out of the party to properly calm down. Ecto and his mother had both been understanding aside from their worry, offering to come and keep him company - which he’d politely declined.

And though quite it was around him in the car park, his mind was screaming.

The mans words refused to leave him, and he hated it. He hated how right he was! he hated how out of place he felt just being near a place so fancy and posh, he hated how that small self conscious part of him constantly felt the need to prove his worth when around Ecto’s family, to prove he was more then just some..grungy looking engineer

“Higari?”

Higari pulled his head from his hands and peered up to the side “..Mister Kurōn?” Mr Kurōn walked over to him but kept some space between them for Higari’s sake “I’m sorry, would you mind if I had a word?” He asked, pointing to the space on the edge of the pathway Higari was sitting on. Higari blinked “Uh, sure?” He said

Smiling Mr Kurōn took a place on the floor next to him, arms propped up behind him as he peered up into the sky, as if looking for stars. Higari gave him a sideways glance, before slowly looking away, tensing up, he really hoped he hadn’t come to talk about what had happened

“...How..” Higari nervously cracked his fingers, an old habit he’d developed since he was at UA. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened, but there was one thing he wanted to know “...How much did you hear?..”

“...Enough..”

Higari chewed his gum, all of sudden very interested in the floor as he avoided making eye contact with the older man.

“Higari?” Mr Kurōn was the first to break the silence, finally turning to Higari “May I ask you a..personal question?” He asked, watching Higari’s reaction carefully to make sure he didn’t step on a nerve. Higari turned to him, raising a brow “...Okay?” He said, slightly unsure

Mr Kurōn hummed, looking away again “...I don’t think there’s any way I can put this lightly” he admitted, Higari felt nervous at that. Mr Kurōn turned back to Higari and narrowed his eyes just a tiny bit, trying to read Higari as though he was a book. Higari felt his shoulders tense, after what had happened he’d been put off curious or studying gazes, and probably would be put of them for a while-

“Are you scared of me?”

Higari’s brain buffered, not quite understanding the question at first. Mr Kurōn said nothing, not removing his eyes from Higari as he waited for an answer. “.....Uh, well-“ Higari scratched at his neck “I don’t think- I...I wouldn’t say scared..” Higari admitted quietly, hand moving to tug at some strands of hair “I just..Uh..Well, I wanna make sure I don’t..” Higari’s tone became close to a mumble, yet Mr Kurōn continued to be patient “I just...really don’t want you two to be disappointed, I guess. I mean-..I don’t know the first thing about all...this” he gestured to his suit “I can’t make heads or tails or fancy of cocktails or caviar! A work bench and tools, a construction sight and mapping out underground tunnels, machine parts and dirty oil rags- those things I get!”

Higari had only opened up his worries about Ecto’s parents to Ecto himself, but before he knew was what happening, his worries where spilling from his mouth before he could stop them.

“And when I found you’d sent me an invite to this event too, I was...I didn’t want you to be..” Higari looked ashamed to even finish his sentence, and sheepishly turned his head away from Mr Kurōn to try and hide from his gaze “E-Embarressed by me..what that guy, Uh, Zeikin said. I..I hate to admit it but, most of what he said, ‘bout me being...insecure...most of it, held..some truth”

After he was finished there was a lengthy silence, then Mr Kurōn hummed, Higari tugged harder at his hair “.....Ekuto, he always tells us how happy you make him” he smiled, peering off at nothing before he smiled down at Higari “In school, at UA, I don’t think he had many friends” he said, shrugging “He didn’t really talk about it much with me and his mother, he always assured he had friends but, never wanted them round....Then you came along!” His smile widened, the light seeming to come back to his face “You where the first person from school that seemed to have changed him for the better! He was always so happy when he came back from school each day, after spending it with the mysterious friend he had”

Another pause

“...Do you make Ekuto happy?” He asked, looking to Higari.

Higari wasn’t sure if this was a trick question, so answered with a nervous “I...I like to think I do”

“You think?” Mr Kurōn titled his head “Or you know?”

“....I know” Higari said “...I really want to make Ecto happy, I try to keep him happy!”

Mr Kurōn seemed pleased with that answer “Then why would we want you to be some else?” He asked, leaning forward.

Higari’s eyes widened, his eyes darting up to him to see if what he had said was genuine. Mr Kurōn held nothing but honesty on his face, no trace of a facade or act anywhere, just..a genuine smile

he rose his brow at Higari, as if his thought on the matter should have been obvious.

“..I-I..” Higari tripped over his words, stuttering like a fool “I-I-..I-Uh..T-That’s-“

“You have nothing to prove Higari” Mr Kurōn insisted, saying the words he knew Higari needed to hear - and probably wanted to hear for a long time. He placed his hand on Higari’s shoulder, giving him a friendly shake “You are very easily likeable!”

If Higari’s eyes had been wide before, now they had shot open to the size of plates. Turquoise pupils staring at Mr Kurōn in shock, mouth hung open in a small o shape, causing Mr Kurōn to chuckle a little. Higari’s mouth snapped shut, realising he must have been gawking in his surprise. “Uhm-that’s-“ Higari turned away, feeling embarrassed, praying it wasn’t as obvious as if felt “T-Thank you..”

“You’re welcome”

Me Kurōn stood to his feet, stretching his arms out above his head before they flopped to his side, hands resting in his pockets “Hm..I think I’ve had enough of parties for one evening” He stated, looking down to Higari who craned his neck just to peer up at him. “Why don’t we all go out, get some proper food - my treat!” He said “...It’s the least I could do to make up for what happened. I can assure you, Zeikin will not be hosting business with us any time soon”

He offered out a hand “Come on, let’s not hang around in the cold. Besides-“ he looked back in the direction of the building “Ecto is starting to get worried, I’m sure you know at this point how he can be when worried”

....Higari chuckled, letting Mr Kurōn help pull him to his feet “Yeah” he said with a nod “He can be a bit of a worry wort” he admitted with a laugh, Mr Kurōn joining in lightly.

One meal later and drinks down at a small pub and Higari was feeling more like himself, the way he’d always tense up when Ecto’s parents so much as looked his way vanished entirely, for the whole evening he seemed to forget all about trying to uphold a certain image in front of them. He’d had a drink, he’d ordered what he wanted, he’d taken off his bow and untucked his shirt - and he’d had fun!

He and Ecto returned to the hotel room, and flopped back tiredly onto the hotel bed in sync “Well..” Ecto said, eyes on the ceiling “That was...something” he said. Higari hummed, eyes closed behind his frazzled hair, he’d given up trying to keep it neat once they’d all gone out for food. Shyly, Ecto peered down to his partner, nagging guilt knawing at his consciousness “Higari I...I’m so sorry about what ha-“

He was silenced when Higari had lazily shuffled his way up the bed and smashed a kiss confidently to Ecto’s lips. Half of Ecto’s next words where muffled into the kiss, body jolting on the bed before he kissed back. Higari pulled away, leaving Ecto wide eyed, red faced and panting

“Ecto...” Higari let himself become comfy on top of Ecto’s chest, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck as he let out a sigh “I’m fine, really” he said “You don’t have to worry about me all the time..” he reassured, still half sprawled ontop of him while Ecto peered to him “B-But-“

Higari gently pressed a finger to Ecto’s mouth “Shhhh..” he gently shushed him, his eyelids feeling heavy as his body registered how tired he was from the night out “We’re good Ecto, I’m good, you’re parents are good..” he slowly slid off Ecto’s chest, curling up into his side like a puppy, his body unconsciously seeking out Ecto’s warmth “In fact, despite what happened..” Higari smiled up at his boyfriend “...I really enjoyed tonight!”

Ecto blinked, not used to seeing Higari act so soft, but a tender smile soon took its place on his face “...I’m glad” his hand moved to Higari’s hair, sweeping aside his fringe to peer down into Higari’s half lidded sleepy eyes. He pressed another one of his kisses to Higari’s cheek, his heart jumping in his chest at the giggle Higari let out

He pressed another kiss to Higari’s other cheek, Higari let out a snicker.

Ecto pressed one of his kisses to Higari’s nose, Higari bit his lip to try and stifle his laughter.

Ecto then moved to Higari’s neck, where he knew he was terribly sensitive. So when he nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, Higari let out an honest god squeal from shock - Ecto could hardly contain himself as he chuckled, before counting his nuzzling assault on his small husband who cackled and tried to escape Ecto’s death trap hug “Ectooo!~”

Maybe people like Zeikin would have his opinions, no questions there: but you know what, if Ecto and his parents loved him the way he was

Why should he care anyway??

[achliegh]

Bronze

Alright, I had this wonderful idea come into my head about Clayton, honestly he deserves his own fic. So here is his version of events! Lots will tie together with Golden so I recommend you read that as well. But you don’t have to of course.

Explaining:

Before Letter is the present.

Letter is updating the lives of the people back home, of whoever wrote it mostly.

After Letter is memory.

The first few letters will be very awkward because writing letters and not being sure what to talk about and what not to talk about is hard and confusing. Stick with me! Yes, this prologue is just a letter.

TW/CW: Discussions of death, miliatry training, smut, cringy jokes, underage drinking, dumb choices, swearing, and more later on.

Beta: @walking-crisis

Some Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Chapter 3:

Dear Uncle Sam

Copperhead Road (Line Dance Skip to 1 minute)

It was an uneventful night, they had just gotten back from an assignment that came up with nothing. Taking off his boots Clay was sitting on his cot, rolling his neck to crack it. Stiff from looking through a scope all day. A song that Clay wasn’t familiar was playing over the satellite radio, something old.

As he took his boots off the picture he always keeps in his left boot falls out and flutters to the floor, smiling he picks up the picture of Leo, Reg, Eloise, and himself smiling at the camera during Christmas one year at the Dumias’ house. He sets it next to him and tugs off his other boot where his other photo falls out. He can’t help the sad and lonely smile that creeps onto his face. Running his thumb over their faces he reminds himself that he has two weeks until he sees them again.

Thomas and Noelle were the last faces he saw before a loud bang and bright lights were all he saw.

Sitting up as soon as the light dulled he felt a shock flow through his body and gasped for breath. Grabbing his chest a sudden heat shot through the back of his head to the left side of his forehead.

“Hey, hey, hey, it's okay.” A voice caught his attention, looking around he spotted a man that looked familiar but not at the same time.

“Where am I!? What happened? Am I dead!?”

“Do you feel dead?”

“... I don’t know”

“We’ll come back to that in a moment. Do you remember your name?” The man moves to sit at the edge of Clay’s bed from where he was standing in the doorway.

“Clayton London Bruss. Now where am I?” Clay lifts his hand up to his forehead where the pain still throbs and feels bandages.

“You’re in a recovery center, you were shot by one of your superior officers.” Clays eyes widen and he lays back down. Then he remembers his pictures and a feeling of guilt washed over him.

“I’m Grev Kinter, I’ll be helping you recover.” The man held out his hand for clay to shake.

He didn’t take his hand.

Dear Dancer,

Long time no write, haven’t heard from you in a couple months. I hope you’re still kicking ass out there. I do miss you… a lot. You come home in 2 weeks. I can survive, but I am getting impatient.

Oh! Remember that dance and song that made me realize I liked you? I finally learned the dance! That means we can dance when you get home.

I may be able to skate like it's nothing but I can’t line dance for shit. But, I learned for you… and because it gets stuck in my head all the time.

When you get home we have to go to this new restaurant that sells a bunch of southern foods because I need to know if it's authentic or not. I eat there everyday you're deployed just to remind me of you.

Was that too cheesy?

Well, I haven’t gotten to be cheesy in a while to you so… Deal with it.

I hope you get this before you are on your way home or else you’ll have no clue what I’m talking about.

All the love,

Thomas

P.S

Noelle says hello!

“I fucking hate those boots.” Leo runs the back of his thigh where Clayton just kicked him with his cherry red pointed toe boots. Smiling, he pats Leo’s shoulder.

“You're just jealous you can’t look this good.” They went to sit at their normal table, Reg sat in between them. It’s where he feels most comfortable. They ordered drinks as they waited for the team to arrive, the music was swinging, people were laughing. It was a relaxed night.

Clay was a bit nervous though, he had gotten close to a specific person on the team and he recently found out that that person was already in a relationship. He had gotten her number from Logan somehow, he didn’t know how those two knew each other, he had called the girlfriend to let her know that he and the teammate had been talking. The next thing he knew he was on the phone with her for hours, talking about him, life, hockey and how Clay had no idea how to follow the game.

She was something special, but Clay knew that those two were happy together so he tried to just be friendly with them. New friends never hurt anyone. Then he saw them in person again and being just friends suddenly became a lot harder.

Thomas, a whole 6’2” man of solid muscle broader than clay himself and just the light in the room. He has the nickname Talkie because he loves to chat with anyone, for hours, including Clay. It felt like he had known Thomas for years when really it was only a number of months.

Noelle balanced him out perfectly, she is smart as hell, quiet but still goofy with Thomas. She was taller than Logan by an inch and won’t let him forget it, her long brown hair was constantly up in a ponytail. She also plays hockey but not professionally, she plays for fun. Clay doesn’t know her job yet but he wants to know everything about her.

It was just the guys coming out tonight because Judy invited the women and whoever didn’t want to come out over to have a wine tasting of Garland’s homemade wine. Clay was out on the floor dancing with one of his friends from highschool when the team came in. He made his way back over to them when the song ended and joined them in a round of shots.

He makes eye contact with Thomas for a second too long and he quickly looks away to Reg who is coughing from the burn of the drink and pats his back. After a couple of minutes of chatting and joking Clay's favorite song came on.

“Leo! Come on!” Clay drags Leo onto the floor right in front as the music gets past the intro. Logan was supporting himself on the table next to a smug Finn. Thomas and James were watching as they started the dance. The light changed to this dull yellow light that swirled around the floor landing on dancers every once in a while.

Clay and Leo were constantly under the light because everyone knew them there. Anytime Clay looked up he always felt a specific set of eyes on him. Dark brown and soft. Clay lost himself in the music, dancing was something he enjoyed to a fault. Once he gets in the zone he can’t be talked to.

Swinging his legs, kicking to the beat, stomping in time he smiles to himself. Starting to sweat he untucks his tank top from his jeans. He tips his head back until the stomp comes up and whips his head forward when he stomps.

The words in this song always get to him, especially something that he was planning to do already… without telling anyone.

“I volunteered for the army on my birthday.” He hums along kicking in a circle and kicking Leo’s ankle just to mess with him. He laughs when Leo flips him off. Smiling as the song ends, he is panting and sweating.

“I always forget how that dance makes me feel out of shape.” Leo flings his arm over Clay's shoulder as they walk back over to the table and take gulps of their drinks. “I’m going for a smoke, anyone else?” Clay nods, Sirius and Logan follow them along with Thomas. Clay didn’t see him as a smoker but everyone has surprises.

“Light me.” Clay holds out his cig as Leo finishes lighting his own, rolling his eyes Leo does after he passes his own to Logan. Sirius came outside for some fresh air and is chatting with Thomas who also came out here for that reason. Taking a drag and leaning against the wall, he looks up at the stars that are poking through the clouds. Closing his eyes he falls back into his own world for an unknown amount of time.

“Coming back in?” Clay blinks his eyes open to see Thomas standing by himself in front of him. His heart feels like it stops beating for a moment. “I mean it is pretty nice outside, I wouldn't mind staying out here. Especially with you.” Clay choked on the drag he was taking from his cigarette when Thomas mumbles the last thing he said. He feels a large palm on his back, not patting but rubbing his back.

Clay looks at him and takes a deep breath and shrugs the hand off of him.

“Let’s go back in. this isn’t something you want, Thomas” He stumps out his cig on the bottom of his boot and pushes off the wall.

“What do you mean?” Clay looks back at him and his face softens when he sees a look of hope and confusion in Thomas's gorgeous eyes. “I mean, I’m straight… or I think I am, but maybe I’m not and I just- I don’t know anymore.” Thomas reaches out to Clay and grabs his pinky finger with his pointer and pulls Clay closer to him.

“I don’t think you are straight, maybe you forgot but I am a man.”

“I know.” Suddenly Clay's back is to the brick of the alley and rough hands are on his waist. He watches Thomas lean forward, pausing for a second to make sure this was what Clay wanted. Clay stares into his eyes then glances down at his lips. Nodding slightly he feels Thomas surge forwards and connect their lips.

It was like his blood turned to fire, a sensation he has never felt before. Their lips moved in sync with each, Clay constantly being pulled against Thomas with his greedy hands and his own arms gripping Thomas's t-shirt. After a couple of minutes they pulled away for breath and Thomas backed away.

Thomas Left. Clay went to find Reg.

Noelle needed to know.

[hains-mae]

Flowers

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays. You are just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, so one might think it only makes sense that your soulmate is just as ordinary as you. But that isn’t the case. Especially not when your body is constantly littered with flowers. Some of them fade over time, some stay, but one thing is for certain – your soulmate seems to get hurt. A lot.

Notes: Hey there you guys. Recently I’ve been caught up in a Batman fever, and I can’t do anything about it. I ended up creating a challenge for my friend @mrevaunit42​ which was an “Character x Reader” Soulmate AU. Seriously, it was all in the name of fun.

And then I got caught up in it, perhaps a little too much – and created this. I’ve never written a soulmate au before, though I really wanted to. (Now I have! Yay~) So please forgive my writing since I’m a little rusty, and I hope you enjoy.

Stay safe everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

I woke up to a burning sensation on my lower ribs in the middle of night. Hissing in pain I slowly pushed my feet out of the warm covers and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Pulling up my shirt I assessed the damage.

It was purple lilacs this time, stretched across the middle of my torso going horizontally to my side. I winced as the tattoo completed itself and just as the heat came, a cold chill ran through it and down my spine. Somehow it soothed the burn.

God, another one? I frowned at the beautiful flower and sighed. It worried me that my soulmate was prone to getting hurt. Sometimes the injuries made sense, like when I found them on my knees, I could easily chalk it up to falling and scraping – but injuries like these were more difficult to decipher.

How does someone normal get hurt this way?

They don’t.

“Unless they’re a criminal.” One of my friends stated dryly days ago.

“Or a hero!” Another said quickly.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in a rush to find out. Whoever this person was, I knew from the start that they were trouble.

The next time I woke, it was to the early morning rays that escaped my curtains and played a fiery dance on my eye lids. I groaned and pulled the covers up wishing I could sleep in for a couple more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t.

A few weeks ago my school, Gotham Academy, announced that they were holding their annual science fair at a convention centre as opposed to the regular school gymnasium, because surprisingly enough, Wayne Enterprise offered to fund the event.

It was no secret that Gotham’s economy was hitting below the desired margin. Many people don’t have jobs which resulted in an influx of crime in the past years. And so Wayne Enterprise collaborated with Gotham’s Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to raise awareness and encourage young minds to strive for a better, innovative future. They shouldered the expenses needed and created an international affair, to top it off; Wayne Ent. also offered scholarships to future college goers and internships in all their branches.

Which was why I couldn’t sleep in today. I had project to work on. In line with our team of sponsors, I decided to invent a weapon that could help the GPD when catching criminals. A gun that projects thin plastic case marbles filled with a chemical concoction that erupts into a quick hardening foam upon impact. The foam itself is not toxic, but it works with catching and detaining. It turns as hard as stone but there was another type of compound that I was in the process of creating to counter act it as a measure of safety.

I got up and started my day.

“Good morning sweetheart.” My mom greeted as I entered the kitchen. She smiled warmly at me as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

I couldn’t help but return the gesture, walking up to her and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Morning Mom, are you working tonight?”

“I have to, but don’t worry I’ll be leaving something in the fridge for dinner.”

I thanked her and took my plate into the living room. Turning on the T.V., I easily found the news channel and watched the latest reports on Gotham’s activities.

Mom sometimes had to work on weekends just to make ends meet, which was one reason why I was so hard to get that scholarship and hopefully the internship as well. The other reason was…

A family picture caught my eye in the middle of the news and I bit back a sigh. My dad, my mom, and me. We all were smiling at the camera.

Dad was part of the Police force and died during a heist. Reports stated he was running after the criminals and got shot before he could capture them. That was another reason I chose this as my project. Dad always wanted to fight for justice, hopefully this invention could help.

I finished up my breakfast and helped my mom with chores before I slipped into science mode and continued tinkering with the project. The projectiles were complete and I was able to make 3 in total, which I stored in a small box encased with extra padding.

It was around evening after my mom left that I got another burn. I dropped the screwdriver I was holding and bit my lip. Gasping for breath I pulled my sleeve and watched another flower blossom on my forearm.

The pain was gone in an instant and the cold tickled the skin that was branded. I sighed and slowly straightened my poster. This person, after all these injuries, they better not die before I meet them. I grumbled to myself when I realised I was short on supplies. Poor planning on my part.

I grabbed my bag and locked the front door before I headed out to the nearest hardware store, careful to keep my marks hidden from view. I’ve lived in Gotham my whole life, and I knew that standing out, even in the smallest way, would lead into trouble.

The walk to the store was short and uneventful, thankfully. There were only a few customers. I manoeuvred my way between the isles and picked up what I needed. After paying at the counter I hauled my goods and ducked back into the streets. I almost wished I didn’t stop when I heard that woman cry out for help. I was unarmed, unprepared, and every cell in my body screamed at me to walk – no – run away from the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

But she was helpless. Clad in a trench coat and rain boots, she didn’t look like much but her bag was definitely designer. The thieves in question had a knife pointed at her face. There were 6 of them. All were towering and bulky next to her petite frame. Their menacing stares struck a cold shiver in me and my hand involuntarily clutched the projectiles I was working on in my pocket. I had a feeling it would be safer with me than it would be at home, however this was not how I imagined I’d first be using them.

The woman screamed again and I clenched my palm.

I sucked in some air and got ready to shout at the perpetrators – until I felt the wind rush past my ear.

In a flash someone had swooped into the scene and kicked the man holding the knife to the ground. The sound of blades being drawn stole my attention. It was Robin. He took a stance between the woman and the men.

“Run. Now.” He told the lady.

She whimpered and scrambled up to her feet dashing towards me, towards the entrance of the alley. She zipped past and didn’t stop running till she turned the corner. I should be running too. But my eyes were fixed on the fight that was about to happen.

Robin seemed no older than me. In reality there was no way he could win against 6 huge men. But then again, this was Robin. No normal teenager.

“6 against 1.” He mused, the grip on his katana tightened. “That hardly seems fair.”

The one who held the knife, possibly the leader of the gang, growled thickly. “Get‘im boys.”

They all rushed towards him at the same time, hands in the air and weapons ready. Robin whipped his blade and easily knocked two knives down, the remaining used their strength and threw punches that looked like it would strike anyone straight to next week. The masked boy effortlessly dodged all their hits. Crouching, jumping, twisting, exactly when needed and not a second too late. His movements were precise; a quick jab below the rib striking the kidney with the handle of the sword, a sharp slam of his elbow to the chin, and to close the deal with a blunt blow force to the side of the neck. The goon fell like a tree that’s been cut down.

I gaped in awe.

The others rushed to avenge their fallen comrade, but Robin was quicker and used his blade to disable them. He kicked one of them into the brick wall, a sickening crunch echoed as the goons’ head smashed into it, then a howl of pain when Robin sliced his back. I cringed at the sight of the blood. It was a superficial wound, at least from my vantage point. The cut was deep enough to hurt and draw red, but not enough to kill.

The next lunged himself and grabbed Robin’s wrist, the boy growled and kicked him the face, forcing to free himself. He couldn’t see the other one running towards them from behind, the weapon aiming straight for Robin’s back.

“Robin!” I found my voice and screamed. “Behind you!”

He did a roundhouse kick and slammed the head of the one holding his wrist, then using the momentum back flipped and kicked the one who was behind.

I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing just standing there?!” He shouted at me as he readied himself again. “I said run!”

That got all the men’s attention. The ones that fell got back up and huffed angrily.

“Get the girl!” The leader shouted. “We can use her.” His leer sent bile rushing up my throat.

I squeaked as 3 of them started to chase me. Finally my legs listened and I dashed across the street onto the other pavement.

They were too fast though, their thundering footsteps grew closer towards me. My lungs burned as I tried to inhale some much needed oxygen, physical sports like running really weren’t my thing. I nearly tripped on an uneven tile as a scream rippled out of my throat. I braced myself for impact but it never came. Instead I felt a rush of wind across my face and a lightness below me. The ground was getting further and further away.

I realised I was being carried. Looking up, I was face to face with Red Robin.

“God thing I saw you when I did or you’d be dead meat.” He said dryly as we landed on a roof.

“Th-thank you.” I breathed, trying to gulp in as much needed air as I could. “Robin – he –“ But I didn’t know how to articulate. The adrenaline rush was messing with my head, and I could barely think straight.

Yet Red Robin nodded, understanding. He jumped off the roof and shot his grappling hook. I peered down and saw the fight started to move, from the alley to the side walk. The goons cornered Robin into a store front and were relentless as they threw punch after punch. The other 3 that were chasing me were already fighting Red just below the building that he deposited me on.

I watched in horror as the glass shattered everywhere around them. They weren’t just normal gangs I discerned, they knew how to fight. And unlike the birds and bat, they didn’t mind taking a life.

Clutching the projectiles again in my pocket, I brought them up with trembling hands.

“I hope this works.” I whispered to myself and pulled out my elastic hair tie.

Hooking one of the orbs onto the elastic, I aimed for the goons attacking Robin, and pulled as far as the band could go. Willing my hand to stop shaking, I said a silent prayer and released my hold.

Time seemed to go into slow motion as it flew across the air. I held my breath.

It hit the ground between two goons and burst into a big foamy cloud of vibrant cobalt, instantly seizing the men and solidified their prison as the concoction cooled.

Both fights stopped for a split second, as they watched the chemical reaction, which now looking back was a mistake on all parties.

I gasped and thanked whoever was listening.

The leader roared and pulled a pistol. I felt my throat tighten as the gun set a bullet free.

Robin and I cried out in pain as the bullet dug into him. Tears threatened to roll down my cheek as I clutched my burning shoulder.

A birdarang zipped towards the leader, catching his wrist and making him let go of the weapon. With a grunt, Robin kicked him hard across the chest stealing the perpetrators breath and with a quick turn, smashed his foot onto the mans jaw, cracking it before letting him fall with a loud thud.

The fight continued and Robin easily subdued his last opponent. Then he ran across the street to finish up with Red. Both of them moved in fluid motions like well trained dancers as they fought while protecting each others weak spots. They took down the last 3 goons and tied them up just as the police sirens blared within the distance.

I jumped up from my spot and turned to run but stopped when I saw the two Robins in my path.

“You.” The younger one started. “You were the one who shot the…”

I nodded wordlessly, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through my body. A nasty red splotch caught my attention and I believe they both noticed as I glanced at it. My own hand went up and clutched my shoulder unconsciously, a cold sensation rippled through where the bullet was.

“Oh my god.”

---

to be continued...

Part 2, 3, 4, 5 (end)

[b1a4seeyou]

Data Research in Progress (Albedo x Genshin!OC)

Summary: Asking for assistant to his incomplete research, something deep inside feels missing to him. Now what could it be.

Rating: None

Side note: A commission piece for @samallama​ !! Thank you so much for commissioning me, I had fun writing for your oc!! ^^

>>Commission is still open !!<<

>>You can read it in AO3 too<<

A fine day continues while the wind carries in the heart of Monstadt. With its people roaming freely, their safety is top priority as the Knights of Favonius keep on the lookout for outside dangers, including those who watch from behind the scenes.

“Hmm… according to these books, violet grasses have strong vitality with a sweet fragrance. Maybe if I could extract them and do a few test experiments, I could possibly create a concoction for stamina!”

Somewhere inside the headquarters, sounds of glass clinking and smokes puffing out between the gaps, the knights knew the alchemist was experimenting yet again. Even though it sounded dangerous, everyone trusts her abilities so they would not question it.

While she had full concentration into extracting the violet flower sample, she could see a red cap bobbing towards her from the corner of her eye. Her tiny hands reached onto the nearby stool and climbed on it, the little visitor observed the alchemist’s work with full excitement as she hopped about.

“Oooooh!! Klee knows this flower. One of the knights gave one to Klee before.”

“Is that so? I’m happy to hear you have knowledge about this flower, Klee,” the alchemist replied. Her eyes and hands steadily work on the extraction. “Aren't you still in confinement, Klee?”

“Klee’s confinement time just ended so Klee is now free to walk around!”

While nodding, the alchemist’s eyes started to sparkle as the flower extraction had come to the completing stage. Perfect! Carefully taking a few drops into a tube, the eyes of both knights observe it with awe. However, the little knight broke the silence with-

“Master Selene, do you think this flower can help Klee’s bombs explode more?”

The alchemist dryly laughed, “I don’t think that’s a possibility, Klee.”

“But Jumpy Dumpty needs more explosions!! The bigger it explodes, the prettier!”

Struggling to explain the dangerous possibilities of bigger explosion outcomes to a child is hard to simplify, especially when you just discovered a new material to test its contents. Right on time, footsteps walked through the door, revealing a familiar figure to the two knights.

“Master Albedo!!” The child happily skipped towards the man and hugged his legs. From Selene’s view, Albedo looked rather exhausted for a while before his lips turned to a smile as he patted the child’s head. 

Selene sighed, “Albedo, I hope you’ve been taking rests these days.”

Albedo’s eyes widened at the mention before quickly averted them from her gaze. Yeah, she’s going to take that as a no.

Before her lecture comes about, Albedo clears his throat to pull her attention to his matters. “Selene, can I have a moment of your time? Unless you’re occupied with something.” 

Even though she’s practically preoccupied with her current experiment, she couldn’t object to her master’s request, right?

“Sure. Is there something you need for?”

“I’m planning to hike back to Dragonspine. I was looking through some of my previous research reports and I realized some of the procedures are missing something.”

Strange. Albedo is the type to be very precise and collective about his research, so hearing an incomplete finding started ringing alert bells in Selene’s head. Plus, Dragonspine is an interesting location to research on more, so of course she would join in!

“Can Klee join in too?” Cute puppy eyes staring at Albedo, begging him to include her in the team. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come along, Klee.” Worried about the child’s safety, Selene refused. 

“Klee will be extra careful in Dragonspine. And Klee will warm you up from the cold with Jumpy Dumpty!” 

The chief alchemist chuckled, “I guess we could use a Pyro vision user during the journey, would it?”

Well, he’s not wrong about that fact. Walking around in sheer cold is a risky walk. Selene sighed in defeat after thinking through Albedo’s reasoning before nodding. Happily hopped around, the three set on their journey to the cold winter. 

From passing through hilichurl attacks to Fatui ambushes, they finally arrived at the destination of Albedo’s curiosity. The intense heat emitting inside the underground cave, scarlet quartz scattered across the ground. Beholding upon them, there lies the source of the scarlet red colors in Dragonspine. 

The Core. 

Said it used to be the heart of Durin, no one knows how it still glows for thousands of years until now. Seems like Albedo’s interest in researching Dragonspine is still pumping up. Even to Selene, her eyes sparkled as she quietly stared to the core with awe. 

“From my findings, the core still radiates high intensity of heat that could support the creatures living here. Somehow, I still wonder how it could affect someone with low resistance to it.”

While the two alchemists started their research, Klee roamed around with piqued interest as she looked at each and every scarlet quartz surrounding the cave. Poking on one of the quartz, she insisted on breaking some in hopes to work on a better version of her bombs. Nonetheless, it only emitted its heat in a short amount of time which disappointed the little knight. Trying to figure out a possible way to take these quartz home, her eyes darted towards the core. With a smile of excitement, Klee skipped over to the core while staring into the pumping object.

Meanwhile, the two alchemists were busy discussing what could possibly be the reason for its everlasting life until Selene noticed Klee getting close to the core. “Klee, don’t go near it!”

Her words fell on deaf ears, Klee has touched the core while admiring the red glow. 

“Klee!!” Running towards the child, Selene’s worry of something fatal might happen to her. Until a scream was heard.

“Too hot, too hot!! Klee’s body is burning. Master Selene! Master Albedo! It’s too hot.” As the child cried over to Selene, the alchemist carried her small body to the cave entrance in hopes for the temperature to cool her down.

As Selene scolded the child, Albedo observed the event with interest, wondering that could be the answer to his hypothesis. Caressing the red glowing core, knowing that he won’t feel the same heat intensity from what Klee experienced, his expression sorrowed in wonder. Something about this research is… missing the most important piece of the puzzle. 

With the unexpected incident falling on them, they decided to head over to their camp hideout to fix up a quick antidote to Klee’s temperature. As Albedo focusly extracted the liquid, his thoughts started to wander. He realized he didn't react to the incident of Klee a while ago. Witnessing Selene’s reaction is a normality to be worried about someone, but why didn’t he feel anything? Why didn’t he feel any sorrow or any swirling of emotions inside him? 

Looking over Selene, who’s warming up the child on her lap with a blanket, he called out to her.

“How’s her condition, Selene?”

“Ah! her temperature has cooled down, but I think the heat drained her energy so she decided to take a nap for now.”

Albedo nodded, “That’s good to hear then.” Even though he walked over to check on Klee, he couldn’t understand this action of worrying someone. How does it feel to care for someone dear? He knew how precious the child is to him, especially to the people who he once was with in the past.

Selene must have noticed how conflicted his expression is, as she placed her hand on Albedo’s shoulder to comfort him. “Don’t worry, she just needed some rest.”

“Oh. Right.” As he sat beside Selene, he thought to himself that maybe asking her input could help with this question throbbing inside his mind. “Is it normal to be worried about someone, Selene?”

“Hmm?” The unexpected question surprised her, but knowing that’s Albedo’s character, she tilted her head in deep thought. “Well, worrying about someone is more of an involuntary instinct, so you could say it’s normal to be.”

“But what if you don’t?” He looked over to the sleeping child, softly stroking her hair. “What if you can’t feel any sorrow for a person? Would others think of you as selfish? Wouldn’t the person we look after be upset about it?”

Selene looked over between Albedo and Klee, somehow found the answers to those questions, “Not being able to worry about someone doesn’t make you a selfish person. Even though you couldn’t feel it, you just… know that you are.”

Albedo’s brows furrowed. Hmm, maybe a more practical explanation would help. 

“Having the emotion of worrying is a normality to everyone, but even the actions you took for them is one too. Just like how you did for Klee! You stopped the research for a while for the sake of saving her and even made the antidote. Even though you couldn’t feel anything, your action is what matters too because that’s what others will see how much you care for them.”

With that, she beamed a genuine smile and even pushed the child’s lips to a smile, making the chief alchemist smirk. So even without possessing those emotions, the reflective actions to that itself shows his worries too. Even though it’s likely just Albedo’s logical thinking into resolving it, he must have not realized the latter too.

Maybe… that’s what the core underneath them had the same intentions. Because of the endless sheer cold surrounding this continent, a heat source is majorly needed for the creatures to survive. Maybe before the dragon’s body decomposed, the purity of the dragon’s heart still pumps with infinite power for those who need it most. 

While his thoughts wander for more possibilities, a yawn is heard beside him. Witnessing her eyes slowly drooping to a slumber, he gently pulled her body to lean on him while her head landed on his shoulder. Mayhaps the heat from before overtaken her as well, he decided to let her rest for now. Ah, this could be another action of worrying then. The edge of Albedo’s lips lift as he watches over the two knights sleeping with the thought that he learned something new.

Either way with the current situation, it’s best to pause the research for a while. He couldn’t bear to wake them up by how peaceful their expressions look. Once there’s time to reflect, he will thoroughly look for the missing information of his research and analytics of the emotion he seeks.

[dukethomas]

Summary: In a world where Batman never returned and his family scattered, the We Are Robin movement has grown and become the city’s new protectors. Now older, they have a conversation around a kitchen counter.

Written for @duketectivecomics​’ Duke Week, Day Three, We Are Robin! This was actually the first fic finished because I love them so much.

(note: someone please stop me from making a whole au series set here. i’m really about to do it. (i’m lying i already made the series.) also, i realize i’m shit at describing what people look like, so the picture below is the cast of characters, barring the huge, absolutely massive blonde guy. that’s troy.)

(left to right: isabella “izzy” ortiz, troy walker, duke thomas, andre “dre” cipriani, daxton “dax” chill, riko sheridan)

-

When you lead a movement of maybe a hundred-fifty kids, you learn to never get used to silence. 

Tap, tap, tap. 

Duke walks into the kitchen, seeing Riko fiddling with a pencil, tapping it on the marble counter, and staring out through the window above the sink. The sun lowers in the sky, amber light washing over everyone.

The silence is eerie, what with everyone waiting to make the first move. He remembers his first night as a Robin, his first night wearing the red jacket when they seemed to be constantly bickering. 

Years of this changes people. 

He raises his eyebrows and plops down in a chair. “How are y’all doing?” he asks, not quietly, but only just loud enough to cut through the tension. 

Izzy grunts softly, her eyes drooping after a late night. Stakeout, probably. Duke tries to keep track of everything that the Robins do, but it covers a much wider scope than it did when he was sixteen. 

He notes her bloodshot eyes and jokingly wonders to himself if the red in them could be counted as Robin colors. The police have taken people in for less.

“The new recruits are learning fast,” Riko tells him, still tapping the pencil, dark eyes wandering. “There’s one—Carrie Kelley—I think she can be promoted to one of the squads in a few weeks. The others will take time.”

“That’s good,” Duke replies, “but you know that’s not what I meant. How are you guys? Answer me honestly.”

Dre snorts. “Since when have you?” He cocks his head towards the stack of textbooks on the counter, a gleaming Robin pin placed on top. A lock of brown hair falls in his face, the rest loosely pulled into a ponytail not unlike Duke’s own (whereas Izzy and Riko cut theirs short for convenience and personal style, which Duke always finds amusing).

Duke shrugs. “Fair enough. But I feel like we haven’t been talking enough recently. We should go out, have some fun. Relax,” he adds as an afterthought. “We can leave Gotham to someone else for one day. I know Terry can handle my business.”

“We’re running low on grapplers,” interjects Dax, covering a yawn with his hand. “I was planning to stay at the workshop tomorrow and fix the broken ones.”

“Harper can handle it,” Izzy says, glancing over to Duke. He lets a smile creep onto his face as he thinks of Harper and her azure-haired brilliance. She never became a Robin, but she’s somehow always there when they need her. She packs a mean punch underneath her friendly mechanic persona. 

He always got the impression she lost something, when they talk about Robin business in front of her and she gets this wistful look in her eye. But they all lost something, hadn’t they? Years ago, when Batman and his allies skipped town. 

Bruce Wayne died a little after that, in what the papers called a noble sacrifice. Duke remembers Wayne trying to talk to Mister Bloom, talk him out of attacking the whole city. He supposes Wayne was trying to prove something to himself, and obviously, it didn’t work.

Duke kept his mouth shut when his fellow Robins suspected if the events were connected, and they figured it out themselves in due time. 

The city only grew worse after that. And maybe, if they had a Nightwing, a Red Robin, maybe even the tiny newest iteration of Robin, a Black Bat, a Spoiler, a Batman, maybe they could have survived. Maybe they could have thrived.

But they didn’t. So they all had to make do. 

It almost seemed like a blessing when his foster parents were killed in Mister Bloom’s siege on the city—not that any deaths of innocents, no matter how unlikeable, are acceptable, but because Duke got lost in the system, with Leslie Thompkins busy mourning the death of the man who used to be her ward, and he could devote all of his attention to the Robin movement.

“Okay!” Duke says with a grin. “Let’s do it. We need something like this.”

He’s about to start listing off ideas for something they could do tomorrow, when Dax interrupts, quiet and steely. “Do you ever regret doing this?” he asks with a graveness unlike him. “All of this. Because it was one thing when we were in high school and we took on odd jobs, but now we’re—” He swallows uncomfortably. “This is our responsibility. We haven’t been children since we joined. And I wouldn’t trade you guys for the world, and I’m not unhappy with the situation, I just wonder, sometimes. If our lives were different.”

“No,” Riko responds immediately, coals burning in her voice. “We have a purpose. And it’s this. And even if we didn’t, I will never regret helping.”

Duke couldn’t have said it better himself, but he continues it anyways. “We all made a choice to be in this line of work. We chose to help people instead of standing by, and we chose to try to save this hellhole instead of abandoning it. And I think,” he says, “that even though it’s rough sometimes, we get rewarded. Rainbows after the rain. I mean, look at how many Robins are with us. We inspire that kind of hope. So no, I don’t regret it.”

Dax’s face freezes in tightly knit anxiety, and he swallows hard. “Thought you’d say that. That’s who you are, Duke. You and Riko and Dre. You don’t hesitate, you just jump right into it.”

Duke opens his mouth to fire back, that he hesitated once and it cost him his parents, he hesitated again and it cost them Troy Walker, and by the third time he hesitated, there were countless people Mister Bloom killed that could have survived instead, but Izzy beats him to it.

“And what am I?” she teases, her tired eyes twinkling. “Chopped liver?”

And with that, one Izzy Ortiz sparks movement where everyone had stilled. 

“You and I,” Dax declares, after a moment of hesitation, with a weary levity, “are the most important part of this team. Impulse control.”

Izzy hides her laugh in a fist, a habit created in the first year they’d been friends. Duke doesn’t flinch at laughter as much anymore, only certain intonations, but the habits remain. “I’ll show you impulse control,” she mutters. “I’m going to launch myself into the harbor.”

(Despite this, there’s a truth to Dax’s statement. Duke can’t count how many times Izzy has stopped him from walking into a wall after a few all-nighters. Metaphorically and literally.)

“Please don’t,” Duke pleads, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Because then I’m going to be compelled to do it with you. To save you if you drown, of course.

Dre slams his hands down on the table. “Bet!” he announces. “Bet neither of you are willing to do it from sixty feet up.” 

Duke scrambles to his feet as Izzy jolts up in her seat. “Bet!” they both chime at the same time, mock-glaring at each other.

“I’ll be the referee!” Riko blows on a whistle she wears on her nearly all the time now, which is mostly used for training purposes. Sometimes used for nefarious purposes, like being able to declare herself referee. 

Dax stares at them and a fond grin pulls at the side of his face. He sighs. “Okay, you guys have sold me. I’m in. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Duke agrees, nodding. 

He catches Dax’s gaze, then Izzy’s, then Riko’s, then Dre’s. They may be in charge of protecting the city, it may be their purpose and their responsibility, but a thread connects them beyond that. It’s their easy banter and tense shoulders dropping in each other’s presence, in the apartment they share even if they barely see each other, the way they can fight side by side and never have to say a word.

(Years of this changes people, but some things, Duke knows in his bones, will never change.)

((And as it turns out, he and Riko didn’t say everything they didn’t regret about this gig. He still stands by that speech, though, it’s a damn good one.))

-

Read and comment on AO3!

[idontknowwhatyoumean]

lbotw countdown day 1

@lbotw-countdown-event

I’m very late but oh well. Thanks for organising this event!

22 August 2020

Prompt: Bromance

Summary: Alec and Lily in a Coffee Shop!AU

—

Quote that this prompt reminded me of:

“Sleep, Lily,” Alec said, gently. “I’ll watch the doors.”

—

It was early in the morning and already the coffee shop was filling with rather quickly with disgruntled businessmen and bleary-eyed college students all waiting in line for their daily shot of caffeine. It was Alec and Lily’s shift, as it was most early mornings and late evenings, and Lily manned the cash register as Alec brewed the drinks.

They were an efficient team, and morning rushes weren’t too much of a problem for them; Lily was a had been working at the cafe for a rather long time and Alec was particularly good with remembering the drinks and making them quickly and accurately. They had the same shifts for a while now, after they had managed to get past the initial awkwardness and frostiness that came with not understanding the other’s particular brand of humour and contrary personalities. Lily was playful and cheeky, but she could also be serious and earnest, and sometimes she was both; Alec hadn’t been able to figure out when she was what for the longest and that threw him for a loop. Alec, on the other hand, had amused Lily to no end with his socially awkward nature the first time they met and it was only after witnessing his blunt tendencies that she began to respect him as well.

And now, well, now they were pretty good friends. Really good friends, if Alec was being honest with himself.

“Hey, Alec!” She called out, and Alec could already hear the mischief in her voice. “One order of pure black with a dollop of annoying blond and on the side!”

Translation: Jace and Clary were here. And probably Izzy and Simon too. Alec suppressed a groan as he completed the last few of his orders and peeked round the counter to see the line. Unfortunately, the early morning horde had thinned out and there were only one or two regulars in the shop. He could spot his siblings crowding up the front of the counter, no one else behind them. Surprisingly, he couldn’t see Simon, his sister’s boyfriend.

After confirming his fears, he dipped back behind the row of large coffee machines, hurrying to escape his siblings. He loved them, truly, and was grateful for their presence in his life. Except during his work shifts. Somehow, his and Izzy’s constant presence and teasing of Jace during his work shifts at the art supply store next to Garroway Books during Alec’s Junior year of high school had backfired on him. Upon Jace’s quitting of his part time job at the art supplies store (thanks in part to him and Clary starting to date and the large number of new workers and customers Jace had managed to attract during his tenure as art supplies salesperson) and Alec’s employment at the coffee shop to pay his share of the bills, Alec and Izzy’s tradition had evolved into Jace and Izzy’s tradition of disrupting another sibling at his place of work.

The payback was not fun.

“Hey Alec!” Jace hooted at him from beyond the counter. “Oh, come on. Izzy, can you believe this guy?”

Alec tuned out his sister’s response as hands even moved quicker than normal to brew Clary’s favourite daily beverage. He could already feel the tips of his ears flushing red and cursed how the empty the coffee shop was at the moment. His siblings, no matter how cheeky and disruptive they could be, normally toned down their teasing and loudness when there were more people. Alec would gladly take on twelve more elaborate six word coffee orders if it meant not dealing with the teasing.

“You’re so dramatic,” Lily laughed at him as she came up to him, eyeing the takeaway cup of coffee in his hands. “And here I thought that was Magnus’ thing.”

Alec wordlessly passed her the cup, only to be dragged by her out to the front.

“Here you go,” Lily smirked down at Clary, who looked a little embarrassed at Jace and Izzy’s antics.

She grinned up at both her and Alec. “Ahhh coffee, my love. Thanks, guys.” She then leaned forward towards Alec in an exaggerated whisper, “I’m sorry about these guys. They overheard Simon apologising about not being able to meet for coffee and decided it was only their duty to accompany me instead.”

“And where is Simon?”

“Oh, he has an early meeting with his band.”

“And how nice of you to join us, big brother,” Izzy said, her arm propped up on the counter and giving Alec the most innocent gaze that Alec definitely didn’t believe.

“Or rather, how nice of Lily to bring you out here,” Jace cut in. “Is your brain getting stale from all the caffein you’ve been inhaling all day?”

Alec rolled his eyes at them. “Why are you the way that you are?”

“Payback, brother mine,” Jace grinned at him and Izzy laughed.

“Just wait til you get a job, Iz,” Alec muttered.

“Oh thanks for the concern, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get some part time work at an office or somewhere. You might let your guard down in an obscure art supply store, Alec, but I know you wouldn’t do anything if I worked somewhere else. Jace was just unlucky.”

Alec didn’t really have anything to say to that. “Okay, okay, now that you’ve had your share of fun embarrassing me at my place of work, why don’t you go run off now — ”

“No way, don’t make them go! This is too much fun!” Maia, one of the few regulars still in the coffee shop, chimed in. She lifted her large cup to her lips to hide her smile at Alec’s subsequent glare.

“Don’t you guys have school or something?” Alec pleaded, casting a glance at Clary.

“Yes, yes we do,” she said, hooking an arm around Jace’s and leading them out the store. “Come on guys, we can come see him again next week or something.”

—

“Thank the angel,” Alec muttered as he retreated sulkily back behind the coffee machines. Lily followed him and Alec turned an eye on her. “And I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t help much either.”

“Of course,” she said breezily. “Why would I turn down such prime entertainment for no good reason? Oh don’t look at me with those disappointed blue eyes.”

Alec turned away from her just as the front door opened with a ding and Lily left to tend to the order. From what he could hear of her sultry “Well, hello”, he could deduce that the customer was hot. From her next “well of course, we can help you with that, you delicious peanut-butter-and-Jem sandwich”, Alec knew who it was and what his order would be.

Alec took several steps towards the cash register and was right. Jem Carstairs was standing at the counter, waiting patiently for Lily to package up two boxes. Will Herondale (Jem’s best friend? boyfriend? Alec was kind of unclear) was waiting behind him.

“Hello, Alec,” Jem greeted politely. “How have you been? How’s Magnus?”

Alec had heard of Jem and Will, and their friend (girlfriend? Alec was also unclear) Tessa, though he didn’t know any of them them well. They had been in the year above him at school, a close, exclusive group, and Alec wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. And there was also the fact that Alec and Izzy had almost gotten into a fight with Will back at the start of middle school when Jace had been adopted by the Lightwoods instead of moving in with his aunt and uncle and cousin Will. It had been complicated back then.

“Hi, Jem, Will,” Alec greeted back. “I’ve been fine. And Magnus is as magnificent as ever.”

Jem and Will traded secret grins at that, accompanied by a teasing (or at least, Alec hoped it was teasing) eye roll from Will who commented, “Oh, I’m sure he would love to hear that.”

“Ah, here you go with your snacks, Brother Snackariah.” Lily had packaged the two boxes into a bag and was holding it out for Jem. He took it was a smile, thanked her and left the the cafe.

“Ah yes the diamond Jem Come-and-stare never fails to disappointed,” Lily sighed.

“He’s nice,” Alec agreed mildly.

“Oh, I forgot,” Lily complained. “You’re with Monogamous Bane. Boring.”

Alec laughed at her expression. It had been things like this — Lily’s deadpan, serious teasing — that had been difficult for Alec to tell whether she meant it as an insult or a joke that had initially roused so much defensiveness from him. Not to mention that he had met her as a friend of Magnus’ even before they started working together and she and her group of friends had all teased Alec the same way, which Alec had definitely not appreciated.

“Oh,” Lily blinked up at the cafe clock. “It’s almost ten. Well, you have to get going to class. Unless… you want to spend the rest of the day with the amazing me?”

Alec shook his head and suppressed a grin (Lily shouldn’t be encouraged). “See you later, Lily.”

“Oh, boring.”

—

It was raining lightly when Alec came in for his evening shift. He didn’t have an umbrella with him and so had to brave the storm with only his backpack and was incredibly thankful that he hadn’t needed his laptop that day.

Lily gave him and his damp clothes a raised eyebrow as she drawled out a greeting over the counter. “Had a little date with the rain, Lightwood? Tsk tsk, I know a little someone who would be incredibly jealous someone else got to tousle those ‘silky smooth’ locks of yours.” She gestured to the 

“Hello to you too, Lily,” Alec said. “Do we have any spare towels?”

“In the back.”

Alec stepped into the backroom, dumping his bag by the door and grabbing one of the towels to dry off. By the end, his hair was fluffed up by the towel, sticking up and in a general mess. Alec attempted to flatten it down to its usual state, to no avail, and he quietly resigned himself to his fate, reaching over to take his staff apron and putting it on.

When he came out the backroom, he was greeted by Lily’s peals of laughter.

“Oh, Alec,” she grinned. “Your hair.”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” Alec grumbled, taking refuge at his usual spot. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

She shook her head. “Wow, aren’t you lucky your siblings aren’t here right now.”

That thought was just dreadful and he groaned.

“Don’t worry, they aren’t,” she told him. “And get moving. You’re just in time for an order of sugar-free vanilla latte with two shots of expresso.”

And Alec was whisked into the normal bustle of the shop’s evening fans. The coffee shop didn’t serve any heavy food or drinks, only a few cakes and pies, so it wasn’t as popular at that time of day when most people were looking to get dinner. Unless your dinner was cake.

“Don’t look now, Alec,” Lily called. “But there’s a special someone here to see you.”

Alec knew that tone.

He took the few steps that separated him from Lily’s place at the cashier and his heart gave an absolutely embarrassing start at the sight of bright eyes and a loving smile. Unbidden, his own lips lifted into what he was sure was a sappy smile as well.

“Well, Magnus,” Lily grinned. “What would you like to order?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Magnus said flippantly. “Maybe a mocha. Maybe a surprise. Oh, but definitely that hottie standing next to you.” And he dropped Alec is glittery wink.

Alec could definitely feel his face heating up a little — even after two years, he wasn’t quite used to Magnus’ flirtations — and the heat worsened at the sound of Lily’s reply of “oh, we can definitely do that.”

“Lily!” Alec noticed, for the first time, the small group of people standing behind Magnus. Raphael Santiago, Lily’s closest friend, somehow managed to look appalled whilst sporting a grumpy scowl. “We do not encourage Bane’s disasters.”

“Oh, then I suppose we can’t help you, Magnus,” Lily told him serenely. “I suppose you’ll have to find your own way to wooing Alec here.”

“Lily,” Alec chided, exasperated.

“Yeah, let’s move on so the rest of us can get an order,” Ragnor complained from his spot at the back of the group, next to Catarina who just smiled indulgently. 

“Well, why don’t you surprise me with a drink, Alec?” Magnus smiled at him.

“Leave it to me.”

Truth be told, Magnus was a total coffee snob. He could be very picky about his coffee and  usual only drank from the most artisanal of coffee places. He mostly only stepped foot in a regular coffee shop when he was either meeting friends, or wanted to see Alec.

“There’s that sappy smile of yours,” Lily commented, sidling up to him, a sticky note in her hand. “Here are the rest of the orders. I’ll handle Raphael’s.”

Raphael was kind of difficult to please. Alec knew, more or less, how to deal with him in person, but his coffee order was something he didn’t have much confidence in. Ragnor and Catarina, on the other hand, had extremely simple order (plain and strong tea and coffee respectively).

They worked silently together, experienced hands moving quickly through the motions, and Alec felt happy.

[ardent-musings]

The Girl Who Vanished (Part 1)

Chapter 8: “Take Them, Blondie”

Getting thrown into a wall by a teacher might've been the most beneficial beating Ana had ever received, because the twins never bothered her once. She was surprised; she figured they would have gone harder on her since her guard was down. But anytime the twins had ever given her a speck of attention, all they did was give her a cheeky wink and point to their wrists, signifying that she was on borrowed time. She'd take what she was given.

With the weight lifted off her shoulder she was able to focus on things that she had been neglecting. She had been spending more time with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses and even had seen Professor Snape about a few of the spells she read about in the book she borrowed. Of course Alex and Calista weren't going to know about the latter; they would have given her a hard time about being so invested in the book. Snape wasn't the most cheery person to talk about, but even Ana had to admit that the man knew what he was doing when it came to defense against the dark arts.

But one of the biggest events that Ana was able to focus on was the Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw match that Lucian had ben hounding her for days on. The last game Ravenclaw played resulted in the loss of one of their players, the boy that Ana say in the hospital. She got released far before the injured boy did, and from what she could see of his damage, he wasn't going to be leaving the infirmary anytime soon. Because of that, the stand in for their keeper was rumored to be pretty terrible on the broom.

"I've seen this kid before!" Lucian hollered in excitement as he scrapped at the bacon and eggs on his plate. "First year, he could hardly stay on his broom and now he's the alternate? We've got this game in the bag. And when we win, we'll be in the finals!"

The boy took a big gulp of his pumpkin juice looking awfully proud of himself. But none of the girls were convinced. It wasn't like him to be bragging about winning a match, especially before the match even begun.

"Lucian, you need to cool it or else your big head is going to cost you the game," Alex laughed at him. Calista and Ana exchanged similar looks, meanwhile Lucian glared at his sister.

"Look, I'm just excited," he justified, his excitement dwindling to zero so he began to take it out on his food. His knife was nearly cracking the plate in half as he was attacking his breakfast with a sudden burst of irritation. "You guys would be too if you knew you were about to win a game."

Alex and Calista huffed loudly at the boy, which didn't make his expression falter. If anything he looked more upset. Ana remained quiet though; whatever high Lucian was on was bound to end one way or another.

"Just, don't try to jinx it," Calista brought to his attention while she took a spoonful of her extremely sugary cereal. "We want you to be excited, but not conceited. Sure, the Ravenclaw player may not be good, but you can't guarantee a win."

Lucian's downtrodden look only got worse as he got up from his seat, leaving his meal half eaten. With a sad glance at his friends, he left them alone without another word, stomping loudly out the Great Hall. Ana, Alex, and Calista all looked at each other guiltily. Ana hated seeing the usually upbeat and cheery boy look so dejected.

"Guys, I'm gonna go talk to him," Alex said as she grabbed her waffle in her bare hands and began to stand from her seat. "I don't want him going into the game upset."

Both the girls agreed, knowing that Alex would probably be the best person to talk him down from his high horse. That or she'd make it worse by instigating him even more. Either option seemed possible at the moment. All Ana knew was that she hated seeing Lucian so upset; what they said was honest but she understood why he took it to heart. "Want us to come with you?"

The girl shook her head, "No. I can handle this. Make sure you save me a seat though!"

And with that, the younger Bole sprinted out of the room. Then there were two.

Calista began twirling at her twists; she had taken out her extensions to give her hair a break and Ana found Calista's new look so fun.

"Do you think I was too harsh?" she asked Ana with a saddened look.

"What do you think, Kane?" Aeron said as he slid next to Ana. He had the most incredible ability to pop into their business whenever he wanted. She couldn't help but shift a few inches to the side in order to put distance between her and the boy. "You saw his face, of course you were too harsh on him."

Ana hated to admit it, but Aeron was right. Anyone could see that their reaction bothered the boy and it pained her that he was off somewhere pouting in the castle. "Cal, unfortunately, he's right."

He looked at her disapprovingly, "Unfortunately?"

She gave him a half smile, hoping he would look over her comment, it was habit for her to be a bit snarky with him. He had been rude for the longest time, so if he took her reply as rude, she wouldn't lose any sleep over it. "We've got to make it up to him somehow."

"Like what?"

"Well no matter what you birds choose, you guys better hope Slytherin wins the game. Or else he'll be in an even worse mood." Aeron warned them as he slid away from the girls and bounded out of the Great Hall looking as stern as ever.

Ana and Calista's faces reflected one another; they were concerned. And their only saving grace was in Alex's hands. The incoming sound of owls hooting filled the room, distracting them from their current problem. Packages were falling, nearly hitting some kids in the head, but thankfully the post that came for Ana was just a tiny envelope. She took a bite out of her cinnamon roll and tore open the letter. Her favorite little guy had sent her a letter.

Dear Ana,

I can't wait for when your holiday break starts! The manor has been so boring without you. And quiet. I miss hearing you bump into things and then yelling at them for hurting you. Dobby says "hi" by the way. He wanted me to tell you that. I miss you a lot. Halloween wasn't the same without you baking brownies with Mum. She tried, but she didn't put little sprinkles on them like you do. Either way, have fun the rest of this term!

- Draco :)

Ana glowed as she read the letter from Draco. She was missing her little brother terribly. He was a clingy pain in her side, but he was her best friend. The manor was dull and quiet, but he was always the silver lining. There was life because of him. And it had been months since she had seen him last. She wondered if he got any taller, of if he was still a little ball of energy and eye rolls.

"What's got you so happy all of a sudden?" Calista asked, offering her a half smile; she felt too upset to give Ana anything peppier.

"It's just Draco," Ana sighed happily while she held the card up to her chest, as if that would bring her any closer to her brother who was cooped up in the manor. It didn't, but it felt right to do in Ana's mind.

Calista simply nodded at her friend, as she went about poking her cereal. Neither of them were super hungry anymore. The game was going to start soon.

~

Ana and Calista were standing outside the pitch waiting for Alex to return from speaking to Lucian. It had been radio silent from Alex's end and the two of them were beginning to worry. Both of the girls were shaking uncontrollably, not only because it was freezing, but because their nerves were getting to them.

"And what are you two snakes doing out here?" A familiar voice shouted from behind the girls. They turned around to see Fred and George giving them identical smirks. It was almost scary how perfect the twins mimicked one another. They were all snuggled in their matching monogrammed knit sweaters, their long Gryffindor scarves, and fluffy mittens. Ana momentarily wished she had one of those sweaters as another blast of cold ran through her. Her winter robes were stylish due to the Malfoy need to be in only the finest looking clothes, but they were terrible at keeping out the wind and the snow.

"We're waiting for our third snake," Ana replied with a challenging smirk. "Why aren't you two cubs in the stands yet?"

Calista was snickering behind Ana, as she watched one of the twins and Ana stare each other down. She looked over at the other twin who appeared to be entertained just by observing Ana and his older brother.

"Just wanted to root on the Slytherin team as they came from the changing room," Fred joked with a twinkle in his eye. "Ya know, being a good fellow Quidditch player. It's in the name of sportsmanship."

Ana rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness and she took a step closer to the red heads. Fred always had something to say. "And what exactly do you mean when you say you're going to 'root them on'?"

"They mean absolutely nothing, right boys?" Charlie Weasley turned from around a corner to grab at the shoulders of his younger brothers. Despite him being a seventh year, their older brother was not much taller than the twins, but he was far broader and stronger than they were. Ana assumed that if he went against the Hogwarts Express, the train would tip over on its side before the boy even noticed he'd been hit.

"What possibly-"

"-do you mean?" George finished his brother's sentence.

Calista chuckled at the two twins folding under their older brother's mere presence, and by Charlie's white knuckles, he was probably putting the boys in a little bit of pain. They never backed down from anything, but Charlie seemed to hold more power than the quiet boy let on.

"Oh, it's alright," Ana chuckled, as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She was freezing and the game didn't even start yet, but she was not going to turn down the opportunity to give the twins a hard time. And it seemed like Charlie was game, "I can handle these boys."

Charlie looked down at the tiny blonde girl who was shaking like a leaf and couldn't help but laugh softly. But when her eyes laser focused on him, he could tell that she was dead serious. "You know what, kid. I believe you."

Ana smirked at the boy's admission and the twins groaned in frustration.

From around the corner, Alex finally met the group but she was heaving so hard that Ana thought the girl would cough up a lung. She began blubbering, trying to talk through her labored breaths, but nothing coherent was coming out.

"I'm going to take her to the stands," Calista told Ana as she wrapped her hand around Alex's arm, dragging the gasping girl away from the Weasleys.

When she turned back, the boy's faces were redder than they usually were and she wondered if it was from the cold or their embarrassment. Charlie was putting them in their place without even having to try that hard.

"Let's get to the stands. Yeah, boys?" Charlie began squeezing their shoulders which made the boys twist in even more pain. All the while Charlie was grinning charmingly at the young girl. The twins squatted in order to escape their brother's vice grip which made Ana chuckle.

"Okay, fine. Merlin, Charlie you didn't have to grab our shoulders like a damn snitch!" Fred hollered at his brother while George laughed at them. George conceded and began to follow his older brother who had begun walking closer to the pitch and away from Ana.

"Ya coming, Freddie boy?" Charlie nagged, quirking an eyebrow which had a scar that ran through it. Ana wondered if he got the scar from being tough and wild like the boys or clumsy like her.

"I'll be right there," Fred replied, not looking as smug as he did before. The older Weasley and his twin turned and left the two of them alone. He brought his full attention back to Ana who was cradling herself in her own arms, trying to preserve as much heat as possible. The boy's face quickly turned serious as he peered down at her, "How are you feeling?"

Ana's eyes widened at the quick change in tone.

"I'm cold," she hoped that would be a good enough answer.

"No," he took in a deep breath. "You know what I mean, Malfoy."

Fred was not joking anymore. He was waiting patiently for her answer with a gentle curiosity. It wasn't off putting, she just wasn't sure why he was so concerned.

"How much of that night did you see?" Ana mumbled quietly, taking a few glances to make sure no one was watching them.

His eyes suddenly turned from a warm honey shade to almost looking black, "I saw enough to know that your head and shoulders are probably killing you, right about now."

She looked down at the ground. The idea of him seeing her in such a situation didn't sit well with her. Being roughed up was not new to her, but Ana found herself hating the sorry looks everyone gave her when she injured or hurt at school. She wasn't used to receiving pity, "Well, I feel perfectly fine."

Fred scoffed at the shivering girl, "Yeah, okay. You feel perfectly fine? Even after what Trelawney said to you?"

The boy's laugh wasn't meant to mock her. But he knew that any person who was slammed into a wall and screamed at by a nearly demonic teacher would not be feeling the best. She may be hard to read, but she wasn't impossible.

But the more Fred pushed her, Ana's heart sank further and further, "Oh, fantastic. You heard that, too." She chuckled dryly as her teeth started to chatter a bit as she hopped up and down.

"Yeah, I heard that," Fred confirmed. "But I'm sure she was just put in a trance or something. Charlie has said that she often blurts out random stuff all the time."

She offered him a weak smile, but Fred could tell that she was unnerved by the whole thing. He also couldn't stand that she looked like she was about to freeze on the spot, so he ripped off his mittens and offered them to the girl.

Before she could hide it behind her trembling hands, Ana's face broke out in a tiny smile. If Fred wasn't looking so hard he would have definitely missed it. But he saw it. Clear as day.

"Take them, blondie," he ordered, as he waved them in front of her, like a steak to a dog. "C'mon snake, take the mittens"

"Alright! Alright, fine," Ana blurted out as she took the offering and covered her frigid hands.

Fred nodded approvingly, "See? There's no need to be difficult."

"Oh, says the most difficult person I know." Ana scoffed.

"You know you could just say thank you and be on your way." The boy crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for the girl to come back at him with some snide comment like the smart aleck she was.

"I could," she giggled as she rubbed her newly clothed hands together.

Fred turned from the girl with a smirk as he followed the direction his brothers went. Godric, she was so stubborn, but it wasn't something that he entirely hated.

"Fred!" She called after the redhead.

He whipped his head back so fast at the sound of her voice, his body was half out the door.

"Thank you," Ana dipped her head as she waltzed past the boy and began heading where Calista and Alex went. Fred smiled as he watched Ana walk away from him; his hands were cold, but he couldn't care less.

"You're welcome, Bibi," he whispered when she was out of his sight.

~

"LUCIAN! LUCIAN! LUCIAN!" The three girls were all sitting in the stands cheering on their favorite beater, who kept his focus on the game. That was what he was supposed to do, but it hurt the girls to know that he wouldn't even look at them.

"I ran around the whole bloody castle!" Alex wailed over the sound of the heavy winds, "A whole hour, I ran trying to find him! He just disappeared."

The three girls were cuddling together underneath a blanket Alex brought to the game, which Ana was incredibly grateful for. Why Alex didn't think about bringing one was beyond her. Ana thought it was cold before when she was standing outside the pitch, but being outside and against the winds was a whole other story. The rain mixed with the frosty winds made her hair turn into little icicles; if she were to bend her locks she'd predict they'd chip off.

"Flint is racing towards the Ravenclaw goal and," Lee paused as the play was going on before him. "And Slytherin makes the point! That brings the score to 110 to 80."

Despite Lucian being in a horrible mood, he was zooming across the stadium like nothing ever happened. Ana hoped that his good performance wasn't because of his anger, because she didn't want to see him upset like that again.

Every twist and dip Lucian made on his broom made Alex holler in support. At one point Lucian did look over, and his scowl softened a bit. Ana tried her hardest to focus, but the heavy snow and winds made her want to dip her head in the blanket and burrow away. When she looked up she saw Fred and George from across the pitch. The two boys waved their hands tauntingly, showcasing how one of them was without their mittens. Ana's face heated up and she tore her focus away from them and back to the game.

After a grueling three hours in the snow and the wind, Slytherin defeated the Ravenclaw team 260 to 130, securing their place in the finals. Even though Slytherin won, the boy who stood in for the injured keeper proved himself to be a pretty good player. It was amazing how well he stayed on his broom even with the harsh weather. And because of that, before the teams got off the pitch, Lucian gave the boy a handshake, giving him the respect he deserved.

[wkemeup]

Fireworks

summary: Bucky Barnes doesn’t do crowds. He certainly doesn’t do fireworks. But he’d follow you just about anywhere. 

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: PTSD symptoms, panic attack, a very sweet bucky 

author’s note: So I had no intentions of writing anything for today until I woke up at 6am and had this idea and couldn’t fall back asleep. This fic is shorter than my usual and didnt go through the pretty long drafting/editing period as my other fics, but I hope you like it just the same! ❣️

“Bucky you have to come with us,” you urged light-heartedly, tugging on his sleeve as he kept himself planted on the couch; nose deep in To Kill a Mockingbird, the lasted book on the line of a long list you had written up for him. A smile pulled at his lips, though he made every effort to suppress it.

He allowed his eyes to glance up to you over the top of his book to find you dressed in a red and white striped blouse that tied at your waist, revealing just an ounce of skin above your jean skirt, a red bandana in your hair tied up away from your face, and press on tattoos of Steve’s shield and the American flag on your cheeks. Bucky did his best to hide how endearing he found you.

“It’s Steve’s birthday, too, you know,” you drawled out, pulling out your last resort with a slight whine in your voice as you purse your lips into a frown. Puppy dog eyes and all, even Bucky had a hard time holding his ground.

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff, doll,” Bucky finally admits, setting the book down on his lap. He sent you an apologetic smile, mouth pressed out into a thin line. “You have fun for me, won’t you?”

You eventually nod, though your heart breaks a little every time Bucky shoots you down politely, keeping himself isolated and alone at every opportunity. He hid under the disguise of soft smiles, of wanting to finish his latest read, or the certain knowledge he carried that his presence would only end up being unwanted. He was wrong, and you told him so every time, but Bucky Barnes was a stubborn man.

“Ok Buck. You know where we’ll be if you change your mind,” you reply, careful to hide the hurt in your voice though Bucky picked up on it rather quickly. You brush your hand over his hair, the only person he ever let do that, and retreated over to the elevator to meet the rest of the team.

Bucky watched as you disappeared, swallowing back the guilt in his chest every time he had to say no to you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go, didn’t want to spent time with you, because he did. He latched onto every moment he could get with you. But there was something about large crowds and the Fourth of July particularly that didn’t sit well with him.

He knew you’d stand next to him the entire time, keep yourself at just the right distance away in case he needed an escape or something to ground himself to. You’d done it for him in the few times he had allowed himself to venture out to these public events Stark put together, but it never ended well for him.

He’d either end up having a panic attack in closet by himself after he ran from you in the brief moment your back was turned or he’d have to struggle simply to endure the whispers of Tony’s guests mumbling about whether he deserved to join the avengers after all he’d done and if he was even still human at all. Sometimes he wondered that himself.

Bucky let out a heavy breath. The tower was always so quiet when you were gone. He used to enjoy the quiet. Somewhere, along the line since he met you, that had begun to change.

He missed your laugh as it echoed down the hall, the sweet sound of your voice as you teasing argued with Sam over the last bowl of cereal, the soft patter of your footsteps upon the hardwood floors in the early hours of the morning to make the first pot of coffee.

Bucky tried to concentrate on his book instead of the image of you in the back of his mind, but found he could hardly get past the next page. He chewed on his lower lip, willing himself to at least finish the chapter. You had so many books on his list for him to read and he wanted every excuse to make you smile, and nothing did that quite like when he finished one of your favorite novels and you could finally talk about it with him. The excitement in your face, the passion behind your words; it was enough to make his heart sore.

His concentration was shot.

Bucky groaned, setting the book down on the coffee table, and found himself glancing back towards the elevator.

“No, don’t be an idiot,” he grumbled to himself, getting up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. Even as he poured the water to his glass, brought it to his lips, and drank it dry, he still couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from where you had left.

“Shit,” he cursed, the weight of the realization that he’d follow you just about anywhere heavy on his chest, even if it was to some glorified propaganda style event with a crap-ton of people that were guaranteed to set him on edge.

Bucky set the glass in the sink and stalked off over to his room. A quick glance through his closet and he didn’t seem to have much along the times of America themed attire. His red henley, the only bit of color in a sea of black clothing, sat at the bottom of his laundry basket. Couldn’t be easy for him, could it?

So, he found himself in Steve’s closet. He rummaged through the motorcycle jackets, the white button down dress shirts, the series of navy skin tight t-shirts, until he found the shirt he was looking for. It was a loose fitting, heather blue t-shirt with the Captain America insignia at the center. You had bought it for Steve jokingly after he found out about his merch line.

Bucky pulled the shirt over his head and adjusted the bottom as it sat on the edge of his jeans. He caught a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror and grimaced at how silly he felt. Grabbing his navy bomber and shrugging it over his shoulders to hide the reflection of his left arm, he did his best to exhale away the nerves in his stomach. He shook his head, not giving himself another chance to back out, and made his way to the elevator.

The streets of New York were always busy, but it seemed that everyone was out tonight. Back before the war, Bucky had loved the Fourth of July; the picnics in the park, the celebration of the country he had loved, the hot dogs and hamburgers, the fireworks.

These days, crowds weren’t his friend and the fireworks presented a problem all their own, though he did his best to push that to the back burner for now.

Bucky twisted his way through the upstream of pedestrians, keeping his head down and hands tucked into his pockets to avoid recognition. He wasn’t too far away. He’d only have to spend another few minutes on his own before you’d find a way to help calm him down. He tried to focus on the smile upon your face when you realized he came. The thought alone was enough to make the corners of his lips twitch up.

By the time Bucky found himself in yet another elevator, this time on his way up to the rooftop where he’d be sure to find the rest of the team, his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. The doors parted to an influx of Bruce Springsteen playing over the speakers, the loud chatter of the guests, and the sizzling of the grill to his left.

Bucky stepped out into the crowd, hands clenching in his pockets as he searched for you amongst the sea of faces. He kept himself still, just waiting for the moment you’d come into view, when suddenly a hand clamped down on his shoulder. It nearly set off his defenses enough to rip the arm off whoever laid a hand on him when he turned around to find Steve staring at him.

“Wow, Buck, I didn’t think you’d make it,” Steve grinned, looking him over and his eyes narrowed on his shirt. He lifted an eyebrow quizzically. “Is that my shirt?”

“It’s all I could find,” Bucky grumbled, offering Steve an apologetic glance though he brushed it off rather quickly as he swung an arm around Bucky’s back. Bucky sighed, trying to let himself relax. “Is everyone here?”

“Everyone but Sam,” Steve replied. “He usually gets a cabin out in the woods on the Fourth. You know, to get away from the fireworks and stuff.”

“Right,” Bucky nodded, exchanging a kind of knowing look with Steve.

“Y/n should be over by the bar,” Steve said after a moment, a smirk upon his face letting Bucky know he was fully aware of the reason why he was at this party and it wasn’t for him. He didn’t seem to mind much at all. “Try to have a good time, Buck.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line, the best he could do for right now, as Steve disappeared back into the crowd towards Natasha who was waiting for him by a table with a series of cups standing in the shape of a pyramid and waving a ping pong ball in her hand.

Clenching at his jaw, Bucky turned back to the crowd. It took a moment longer, but then he spotted you standing by the edge of the roof, leaning against the barrier as you sipped from your drink. Bucky found himself smiling, his heart rate already coming back down, before he could realize it. He carefully weaved his way through the crowd until he stood just behind you.

“The city’s real pretty from up here,” he said casually, watching as your shoulders froze at the sound of his voice. You set the glass down on the wall and turned ever so slowly to face him, as if you were worried your ears were playing tricks on you.

The smile that curved up on your lips, the light in your eye, was enough to make Bucky’s knees weak. You shouted his name, half-laughing as you swung your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you as you squeezed him. He chuckled, letting his arms drape over your waist as he caught the scent of your shampoo in your hair.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed giddily, pulling back enough to see his face. He nodded, trying to act more nonchalant than he felt. You ran your hand over his shoulder, somehow still able to sense the tenseness in his muscles even under layers of clothes. “I’m proud of you, Buck.”

“Yeah, well, it was about time I got out of that tower, huh?”

“I’m really glad you did. This’ll be so much more fun now that you’re here!” you replied, grabbing a hold of his hand to drag him over to the table where Steve and Natasha were throwing ping pong balls into plastic cups full of beer. He tried to ignore the jolt in his heart at the feeling of your hand in his. “Come on, Buck! We’re going to destroy Steve and Nat in beer pong.”

An hour later, and you were right. Bucky never missed a shot. Nat had complained that he was a sniper and that put her and Steve at a disadvantage, to which you argued back that Steve was a super solider and Nat was a world class assassin. It all seemed to even out alright when Nat brought up the fact that you were trained by Clint before you were even a Shield agent.

It was coming up on ten o’clock, when the crowd began to gather over by the edge of the roof. Bucky narrowed his eyes, watching as everyone seemed to know what was happening before he did.

“What’s going on?” he asked you as you began to drag him over to the edge of the crowd, standing just enough away that he could still be a part of it with standing too close to the strangers. He appreciated you more than he could ever say aloud.

“Fireworks,” you replied with an excited grin as bright as your eyes.

Bucky swallowed, forcing out a smile, and turned away from you to face the night sky before you could see the panic in his features.

He’d dealt with fireworks before, heard them in the distance on unexpected nights in the tower. They never triggered him into the winter soldier but they did find a way to bring his heart up to a rate that felt like it could pump right out of his chest and onto the floor at his feet, make his breathing so tight he could hardly get air in, and brings thick line of sweat to his brow.

Tonight though, he’d find a way through it, he decided. For you.

When the first one shot into the sky, he had to admit it was beautiful; red and gold sparkled amongst the dark blue of the sky, peppering amongst the stars. He only flinched a little.

The second one was bigger, completely gold in color and it seemed to last for eternity as the colors brushed upon the darkness like tinsel. He tried to focus on the beauty of it, on the ‘ooo’s and ‘aww’s of the crowd, but found that the booming sound settled too deep in his chest. He hadn’t even noticed your hand slip into his.

After a few minutes, he couldn’t even look at the fireworks anymore, unable to find the beauty in the sparkling colors when he was wincing at every thunderous explosion.

A flash of the trenches in France, to the roar of the train, to the bombs that took out his friends in Germany; dozens of images clouded his mind, bringing him far away from the rooftop garden. His chest was aching, heart pounding painfully through his veins, and he found himself stepping back, retreating away from the crowd. He couldn’t hear your worried voice call his name, not with the pounding in his ears.

Bucky couldn’t quite focus on where he was going, breaths catching in his lungs and unable to find air despite the rapid intake of his breathing. He stumbled through the sliding glass doors, searching desperately for a dark space, somewhere isolated, somewhere he could get a grip before someone noticed.

That’s when he felt a gentle tugging on his hand. He couldn’t quite make out what it was, his vision blurring, as his feet led him through the loft. Then, he was ushered into a back room and helped to the bed where his aching legs gave out. The door to the room was closed and the explosions were muffled.

Hands brushed along his thighs, then up the sides of his arms to cup at his face. He was breathing too fast, becoming light-headed in the effort, but somehow he could still catch sight of you standing cautiously over him, worry etched in your features as your thumbs brushed against his cheekbones.

“Bucky, I need you to breathe,” you said calmly, offering him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. He nodded, doing his best to follow your request. Your hand swept over his hair, pushing it behind his ears. “You can do this, sweetheart. Here, try and breathe with me.”

Bucky watched as you took in an exaggerated breath, letting your chest raise as you inhaled, held it for a moment, and exhaled with your whole body. You nodded for him to try and he reached out to grab onto the fabric of your shirt by your waist, bunching it into his hands just to find something to hold onto.

He took in a breath, though it was shallow, it was more than he had a second ago, and he let it go.

“Good. You’re doing so well, Bucky,” you praised, nodding encouragingly for him to try again. You took in a deep breath yourself and Bucky followed, focusing on the gentle hue of your eyes, how you watched him struggle to breath without an ounce of pity, with only a sea of adoration and sincerity.

Slowly, he began to find his breath again. Though his lips felt numb and his head was a little dizzy, his heart came back to a normal pace and you let out a sigh of relief. He barely registered you leaning forward to kiss his forehead before you sat next to him on the bed.

“Sorry, doll,” Bucky said after a long moment of silence. He winced it his own voice as it came out, breathy and rough around the edges.

“Oh, no, please don’t apologize,” you shook your head quickly, turning to face him. “I should have never pressured you to come. I should have realized the fireworks would affect you like this. We could have gone somewhere like Sam does...”

“You’d do that for me?” Bucky asked, genuinely shocked.

“Of course,” you said, as if it were obvious, as if it didn’t make Bucky’s heart skip a whole beat. “Maybe next year? I think we’re safe before the next round in an hour. If we head out now, I can have FRIDAY can soundproof your room and we can catch up on the next show on your list. What was it again?”

“Parks and Recreation,” Bucky replied, a smile upon his face.

He couldn’t seem to fathom how you had stumbled into his life and took on his burdens so willingly. It was a constant effort to remind himself that he was allowed to enjoy the small things, like reading with you on the couch and watching tv through the early hours of the morning, that maybe he deserved to find happiness.

“Oh right! That’ll be a good one,” you giggled, tugging on his hands to help him back to his feet. “I’ll text Steve so he knows we’re heading out. He’ll understand if we don’t say goodbye. No need to get back out into that chaos huh?”

You really thought of everything.

Bucky could only nod, too caught up in how much his heart had begun to swell. A blush in his cheeks as you took his hand in yours, so casually, like it didn’t mean the entire world to him, and led him back to the elevator. You didn’t let go the entire walk back to the tower.

Even as you helped weave him through the sea of people bumping into his shoulders that would have normally set him off, your cautious glanced back to him and the gentle squeeze in his hand was enough to keep him grounded. He found that he didn’t much mind the crowds, didn’t mind much of anything at all.

Not when he was with you.

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts: A Night on the Town!

Wizards Hearts Game/Fest ran for a full four months, and is now officially over, though we are ever appreciative towards our readers for spreading love to Drarry fics old and new, short and long. 900 comments were left as a result of the game.

Players are sorted and assigned at random to four different teams. All team activities and discussions are completely optional but can yield extra points to help win the game! There are weekly team activities and longer, creative team activities where players can imagine new, fun headcanons in the Harry Potter universe and perhaps a few stories of their own!

Team Activity 5: Celebrity Visitations and Incidents

As was previously reported on, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter made visitations at multiple casinos. Those casinos have been kind enough to share their footage surveillance and first person accounts of what exactly happened during these visits. Some went much better than others, of course.

Teams were asked to 1) Write a fic about the incident at their casino (as written by their rival casinos) and tell it from the perspective of A) Harry or Draco or B) a 3rd Person Narrator for a minimum for 500 words. 2) Create an image to accompany their fics.

View the first Team Activity post here

View the second Team Activity post here

View the third Team Activity post here

View the fourth Team Activity post here

View the final Team Activity post under the cut!

Team 1: Loch Lomond’s Treasure

Before Draco was inside the casino, he thought the whole thing to be rather silly. A masquerade ball he would have been right at home in. But the way Harry had described it, this was almost closer to a costume party, and he wasn’t entirely a fan of their chosen costumes. He understood why Harry had chosen them, of course, but that didn’t mean he had to like them.

But when he stepped inside the Loch Lomond’s Treasure casino, all of his worries were dashed away, and he was taken aback. He had known about the Gillyweed Ball, but goodness Merlin… It was exquisite. The way the lights danced around the water seemed to make everything sparkle, and everyone was laughing and having a grand old time. Near immediately, the two of them were approached. Even behind the shoddy glamour, Draco was able to recognize Mr. Richens. Elder gentleman, halfblood, and owner of an up-and-coming potions shop down in Diagon. “Ah, Mr. Potter!”

And just like Harry said, it worked. Everyone thought that he was Harry, and that Harry was him! He watched the way Richens seemed to fall all over himself to speak with him, all while snubbing Harry. Unable to help himself, Draco threw a smirk to Harry for what he knew would come at the end of the night when everyone cast off their costumes. Harry chuckled at his side, and it seemed to throw Richens off a bit, but Draco gave the man credit where credit was due. He plowed on as though nothing were amiss.

And that was what went on for the rest of the night as well. Business owners, politicians, and anyone looking to get anything to sell to the papers all came flocking towards him as though he truly were Harry Potter. He supposed that was what they believed to be true, at least. “Mr. Potter, everyone is just dying to know who made your costumes,” one of the women tittered. Draco barely kept from rolling his eyes.

“Blaise Zabini, of course,” he answered, and no one noticed the smoother, more cultured tones of his voice, as opposed to the rough and tumble way Harry spilled out his words. “He’s a new designer, and one to certainly be on the lookout for. He was anxious to make these for us, and I think we can agree that he did a fabulous job on them.”

When he and Harry were separated, Draco saw out of the corner of his eye, multiple people that Harry bumped into or tried to play nice with all give him cold glares, and seem to spit venom at him. Harry, of course, took none of it seriously and answered it all with one of those sunshine smiles of his.

Later in the evening, Harry called him over, “Harry,” he said, and Draco heard that teasing tone in his voice clear as day. “Come on over here, they’re announcing the winners of the costume contest.”

Draco chuckled to himself. “Alright, alright. You won’t let me go until I do.” So Draco walked over to stand beside him.

He wasn’t much surprised when he and Harry were announced as the Kings of the costume contest. Everyone pleaded with them to remove their costumes, and Draco glanced to Harry. When Harry nodded, Draco smirked and waved his wand silently to send their costumes away. The shock, awe, and fear on the faces of many in attendance did so warm Draco’s heart.

At his side, Harry’s fingertips brushed against his arm. “You enjoy some more of the buffet. I’ve got a few… business partners to talk to.”

Draco near purred, “Sounds lovely. Would you like me to save you a few crab canapés? They’re absolutely divine.”

“I think you’d be happier to have them all to yourself,” Harry chuckled, and Draco did so love the sound, as the shivers running through his spine attested to. “Just save me a seat?”

“For you? Always.”

Team 2: Golden Scales

It was All Hallows Eve, a day that Harry tried to forget. Harry usually spent this day locked up in his room at Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione would visit him to make sure he ate and give him company. This year, the duo was busy with their newborn child, Rose, and hence, Harry was going to spend the day alone. 

Draco and Harry had struck up a new friendship after Ginny and Pansy’s wedding. Draco knew from the girls that this day was always hard on Harry, and so he took it upon himself to do something fun this year. 

That’s how they ended up at the entrance of the Golden Scales Casino. The Casino was organising a Masquerade and Bonfire Night to welcome the season. Bring your best mask and your whimsy and prepare for a magical evening, the pamphlet had read. It was just what they needed to take Harry’s mind off of gloom and doom.

Draco had worn a beautiful silver mask with green feathers and rhinestones. Harry looked equally handsome in a red and black mask that accentuated his emerald green eyes. They met in the front lobby of the casino near the dragon statue. Before walking in, Draco rubbed the golden ace card held by the dragon, which was rumoured to bring patrons good luck. Their masks were a blessing, and not many heads turned.

The boys tried their hand at the casino’s patent game ‘Bluffing the Dragon’, and Draco even won a round and graciously treated Harry to a shot of Dragon Bite. They were sitting by the bonfire, enjoying the warmth and spectacular light show performed by the casino’s miniature dragons when a flame from one of the dragons skimmed Harry's face, causing him to panic and jerk away, spilling Draco’s drink in the process.

“Watch it, Potter, this suit is Italian and very expensive,” Draco said irritably.

Harry, however, had started hyperventilating. 

“Calm down, Potter. You’re drawing attention to us,” he said.

“Shut. Up. Malfoy.” Harry bit out, and soon they had reverted to their schoolboy ways of hurling insults at each other. 

The commotion had alerted the authorities, and two burly bouncers approached their table. Seeing this, Draco put an arm on Harry’s shoulder to calm him down, but Harry pushed him away, ripping his mask off and pointing his wand at Draco’s throat. A collective gasp was heard, and then the room went silent.

Draco looked at Harry, eyes wide and full of hurt. Harry, realising his overreaction, dropped his wand. Draco turned on his heel and started leaving when Harry came back to his senses and ran after him, but Draco pushed him and apparated away.

Harry had bumped into another patron who had consumed the Queen of the Night cocktail, causing a coughing cum fire breathing fit. The ensuing commotion was too much, and when the bouncers escorted him to the golden elevator, he went willingly.

The previous night’s debacle was all over the papers the next day. Everyone had a take on what must have transpired. Some called it a lover’s tiff, others a spat between friends, and some even speculated that Harry had been led to the Casino by devious means. Of course, none of it was true, and the only person who deserved to know the truth was Draco. Harry had to set things right—the look on Draco’s face had haunted him all night.

He wasn’t sure if Draco would want to see him, so he wrote him a letter explaining how he’d been lost in his own head. The flames had taken him by surprise, plunging him back to the night in the Room of Requirement when he and Draco had almost perished in the Fiendfyre. He didn't expect Draco to forgive him, but he had to apologise.

An hour later, Harry’s floo chimed and Draco stepped out of it, wrapping Harry in a tight hug.

Team 3: Vanaheim

It was stiflingly hot inside the infamous Vanaheim Casino, and the glamour Romilda wore didn’t help matters much since it clogged every pore of her face, making her feeling more uncomfortable. But she didn’t dare take off her glamour and risk being detected. Ever since she’d been caught bribing Mundungus Fletcher to steal things from the more noteworthy guests, she’d been banned from the premises under threat of public humiliation. 

Tonight had been dreadfully dull though. She’d had high hopes for this event, with both Harry Potter and his more than questionable choice of boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, as guests. But everything was going smoothly. Too smoothly. Not even a row over winnings or counting cards or anything, just a slow hum of voices and the occasional outcry whenever someone won at that weird dice game they insisted on playing here that she could never understand or remember the rules for.

She sighed, glancing at her wristwatch, when something caught her eye. How on earth could she have missed this? She was sure she had kept her eyes firmly on Potter the entire night, but somehow she hadn’t noticed him walking up to… to none other than the literal god and eligible bachelor Thor Odinsson. Oh, this was good. This was almost too good to be true. But where was Malfoy?

It was difficult trying to scan the room for Malfoy while simultaneously keeping track of what Potter was doing with Odinsson, but when Potter leaned into the other man, placing a hand on his big bicep and whispering in his ear, Romilda felt like she had found the thirteenth use of dragon’s blood. Surely she would get promoted after writing a story about this?

Unbelievably, it got even better when she heard a cry of rage to her right, and saw Malfoy elbow his way through the crowd towards the two men. Romilda was whispering furiously to her Quick Quotes Quill while Malfoy started having a shouting match with Potter, and even went so far as to push Potter away from Odinsson. But in her haste to get everything written down, she had forgotten to keep her glamour, and she felt it slip enough that the bouncer by the door noticed her. He’d always had a keen eye, that one, and wasn’t easily distracted by gossip-worthy fights, not even a big one like this. Luckily for her, Malfoy yanked Potter away towards the loos by grabbing his collar. She took the opportunity to slink away in the general commotion that caused, grieving that she hadn’t become an unregistered Animagus like her predecessor Rita Skeeter so she could follow the two men and see the rest of the row. By the look of Malfoy’s face, it promised to get juicy.

* * * * *

Draco pushed Potter unceremoniously into the loo and slammed the door behind them. After a quick check to make sure they were alone, he cast Colloportus and pushed Potter up against the sink.

“I saw you,” Draco growled.

Potter’s eyes widened but he didn’t move. 

“In front of everyone. They were all watching their Saviour. They think I don’t deserve you.” Draco took a step closer until they were inches apart. “I saw you. Whispering in his ear, touching him, and he looked like he wanted to devour you. Make you his.” 

Potter exhaled, his eyes dark. “How did that make you feel?”

Draco slid his thigh between Potter’s and crowded into his space. “Incredibly turned on. He wanted you, thought he could have you.”

“The look on your face,” Potter murmured in Draco’s ear. “I was watching you the whole time. I love it when your cheeks and neck get flushed. You’re gorgeous when you’re jealous.”

“Fuck, Potter.” Draco leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry’s jaw, kissed down his neck and Harry tilted his head to the side in encouragement. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Harry’s breath hitched as Draco nipped at the sensitive spot by his ear. “All yours. You’re the only one I want.”

Draco sucked a bruise into Harry’s neck to mark what was his, then came up and claimed his lips in a searing kiss. When they broke apart, Draco had only one coherent thought on his mind. “Apparate us home. Right now.”

With a loud crack, the room was once again empty.

Team 4: Arc en Ciel

Read here on AO3

[thwip--thwip]

Hi! Love your writing. Do you have any fic recs (including stuff you’ve written) with steve/bucky/sam helping out the whumpee? If not thats cool. Thanks! 🙂

Hello & thank you so much! I don’t read much fic that doesn’t involve IronDad, and I definitely don’t read much fic without Peter as a main player, but I think I’ve got a few things that might float your boat?

red alert by @thwip–thwip | 1k

“Oh,” Peter blinks again, and Tony can feel it as the kid tentatively pokes at the wound, blood welling up from between Tony and Steve’s fingers. Peter’s hand comes away dripping red. “Yikes.”

*

Written for the prompt ‘human shield’ for Whumptober 2019.

It me! You said including myself so….xD This is about the only thing I have that fits this criteria. It’s a short little fic I wrote for Whumptober, but it features a little bit of Steve!

When the Dead Are All Living by @captainkirkk | 10k

Somehow, Peter continues to run into a dangerous, homeless man around New York. Somehow, Peter avoids being killed. Somehow, they become something like friends.

(Peter and Bucky’s unlikely friendship, following Bucky’s road to recovery).

One of my favorite authors, this fic doesn’t exactly have the whump you might be looking for, but it’s an incredible look at a Peter-Bucky friendship and one of my all time favorite Bucky fics.

Held Together verse by TunaFishChris | 32k

Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he’s had enough.

But just as he’s about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This is a really great series, both parts! Steve is the whumpee in the first part, and it’s somewhat split in the second part with Peter but - a great Peter-Steve friendship fic, and overall just a fun time!

the rattle of their hearts by @iron–spider | 58k

Tony deals with the aftermath of Infinity War. He needs to get things back to normal. And Peter is an essential part of normal.

How could I not put @iron–spider on any list of mine? This fic has some great Peter-Bucky interaction, with a little Steve thrown in! Also just - it’s @iron–spider! Everything she does is AMAZING, I guarantee it. If you don’t like her writing, meet me in the Denny’s parking lot and we’ll fight to the death.

The Closest Thing He’s Got by @upcamethesun | 15k

After Spider-Man’s final showdown with the Vulture leaves him the worse for wear, he’s found by none other than Steve Rogers.

Or, five times Tony Stark deeply resented Steve Rogers’ new involvement in Peter Parker’s life, and one time he did not.

Another Steve fic! This definitely seems like it’d be up your alley; featuring Civil War Feelings and Peter being an absolute wild child, such a fun time.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by @captainkirkk | 3k

Peter’s trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

The original Peter’s-trapped-and-can’t-get-out fic, I will never shut up about how good aloneintherain is. Featuring Steve and all of the core six Avengers!

It Was Probably The Pudding by Serendipity_Cometh | 77k

Given that over the course of the past eleven months Peter Parker hasn’t contracted so much as a head-cold, the teenager thought it safe to assume that the whole ‘irradiated spider bite’ gig had equipped him with an immune system of steel that rivalled Captain America’s.

So when he wakes up one night in the midst of the worst asthma attack he’s suffered in almost eight years, neither he nor the rest of the team can think of a logical explanation.And everything sort of goes downhill from there.

(Set in an Alternative Universe where Peter moved into the Avengers’ Tower following the events of The Amazing Spider-Man.)

Another absolute classic and one of my favs, featuring a deathly ill Peter and the Avengers, circa 2012. Steve is a wonder in this one - and we get a little Stony. As a treat.

shelter also gave their shade by @mellaithwen | 4k

Injured after his final battle with the Vulture, Peter Parker gets some unexpected help.

“As if anything would’a kept you away from that beach.” Captain America scoffs. “Brooklyn’s ours, Buck. Besides, we look after our own.”

Spoilers for Spider-Man: Homecoming

Steve and Bucky pick Peter up after the fight with Vulture :’) Have a little heart to heart, such a good fic!

Coulson’s Eleven by @copperbadge-writes | 32k

After Vanko destroyed the Stark Expo, SHIELD instituted a Superhuman Detention program, designed to capture and hold dangerous people – dangerous people like Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and others who made themselves noticeable. The superhumans SHIELD has imprisoned – and some SHIELD agents themselves – have other ideas about what constitutes 'dangerous’…

Incredible AU fic and one of my all time FAVES! Doesn’t quite have the whump, but it does have some wonderful Peter-Steve friendship! 

I hope this satisfied your craving, my dear anon! Please remember to leave a comment for the author if you liked any of the fics here!

[nodesiretogrowup]

LET’S GET READY TO RE-CAAAAAAAAP

“I have numerous science-based questions” I mean, same. It also sets up that Huey is gonna be out of his element this episode

SCROOGE HAS NO TIME FOR SCIENCE

“I AM THAT CHAMPION.” A bit full of yourself there. I couldn’t hear this line without saying “I’M. THAT. HERO.” Oh VeggieTales, you’ll always be with me

THEY ALL LOOK SO ADORABLE!!

I like that Louie does a finger gun when Scrooge gets to him

Like I said earlier, I DO NOT care Scrooge already putting pressure on these kids

Poor Dewey seems like he’s the unfavorite, which is probably how Donald felt as well

Huey makes a good point and I do NOT like how dismissive Scrooge is of the twins

That being said...they totally killed someone in battle

SOMEDAY WE’LL FIND IT, THE RAINBOW CONNECTION!

Why didn’t Launchpad crash? I know he can land w/o crashing but it’s usually when he lands in water. THIS FEELS IMPORTANT SOMEHOW though it probably isn’t

“THEY FOUND A WAY TO MAKE RAINBOWS BETTER!” God, I love Webby

“This is the best day.” WEBBY, YOU ARE REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS OF ADORABLE

Birds with beards look odd

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” Poor Huey, magic and mythology aren’t his strong point

I love that it says Odin’s Closet over the shirts. It’s the little details

“Guess Louie knows what Louie’s doing today.” And then he disappears into the shirts. I can appreciate someone who knows what they’re about

I want ALL the shirts from this episode!

“WHOA, IT’S WRESTLING!” He looks so dang happy, it’s ADORABLE

“THIS IS AWESOME!” Chanting is fun

“So these guys just copied professional wrestling?” Huey, you’re form of logic is not welcome here

Does that mean Scrooge told someone about his battles and inspired them to create pro wrestling? I’m gonna go with that

“And they will love me for it!” Dewey, sweetie, that’s only how it works half the time

I loved all the man-snake stuff. Made me giggle

Man snake be THICC. HOT DAMN

I love the little pig ref. HE’S SO CUTE

Jormungandr knows how to pump up a crowd

So, like, is everyone in the audience technically DEAD?! That makes this episode slightly darker. I dig it

 I wonder if Jormungandr sees Earth’s destruction as a good thing for Earth. Like if he genuinely thinks they’d be better off in Valhalla. Or if he’s just a bastard who wants to watch the world burn

Scrooge is a bit too into playing the heel

The way Scrooge moves and the faces he makes as the Millionaire Miser remind me of Glomgold

“I watch a lot of wrestling while I fly.” “Wait, while?” This exchange always cracks me up

“Uncle Scrooge is the greatest hero of all time.” “Huh, I guess not everyone thinks so.” I feel like this is foreshadowing later events

RIP Announcer Puffin

“DIBS ON ANNOUNCING!” A dude just got KO’d bro! Have a bit of respect

And the return of the dynamic sports announcer duo. Glad Huey got his badge

I NEED MORE WRESTLING ANNOUNCER LP

Strongbeard is DOPE

“How did you know that?” “Just calling it like I see it. WRESTLING!” The real reason Launchpad knows is because he’s actually Thor but doesn’t remember. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

FEAR THE BEARD

“What matters is I’m doing the right thing.” I don’t know, you really seem to enjoy being a heel

This whole match is great

Dewey, there ARE NO RULES IN WRESTLING. Plus you aren’t the ref, so you can’t make that call

I have very inappropriate jokes go through my head when only one arm absorbs the beard energy

“I am so confused.” CONSTANT MOOD

DID SCROOGE NARUTO RUN AT STRONGBEARD?!

I like that Scrooge dives onto him the same way he dives into his bin

LP is so excited he pushes Huey out of the way for NO REASON

HOLY FUCK THAT DUDE THREW A CHAIR AT A CHILD!

All the bone cracking in this episode made me uncomfortable, as in my bones hurt during it

“He is such a good guy.” I’d say he’s a fair guy, not necessarily a good guy

“Which two of you will fight for me?” Webby has been waiting for this moment her WHOLE LIFE

Louie, always taking time to make that money

Who gave him a shirt cannon?!

I love that the dude comes up wearing the shirt

Dewey just slaps Scrooge in the face

Champ POPular! Too cute! I love his hair and outfit. Though I don’t think Champ POPular’s “too popular to hate.” If anything he might annoy people due to his popularity

I thought he was gonna pull out yo-yos as his “finishing touch” and I was sad when it was lollipops even though that makes more sense. BRING BACK THE YO-YOS!

“Do all the fighting and make sure he doesn’t die.” That is a valid concern

WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU! I’D KNOW IT ANYWHERE

Huey taking notes is adorable

“Just in time for the tag-team round.” “Wait, they’re playing tag now?! MAN!” I love how Danny says MAN

How does Huey not know what a tag-team is? It’s a pretty common term

I love Launchpad’s reading face

Dewey has red, blue, and green lollipops. Cute

“HE’S THROWING LOLLIPOPS BECAUSE HE THINKS WE’RE SUCKERS!” That took me off guard and I laughed so hard

“I’ve known you my whole life, I kinda knew how this would play out.” Louie is genre savvy. Perhaps too savvy. He’s gonna figure out he’s in a tv show

“More like Champ POP..ulation zero because he has no friends...in Friendtown.” I fail to see how that was any worse than LP’s “more like Champ UN-POPular.”

“WE HATE YOU NOW!” Tough crowd

Huey’s face after that. I just want to pinch his lil cheeks

WEBBY DON’T NEED NO WRESTLER NAME

It TOTALLY went over my head that they censored Hela with Hecka (at least they used her better than the MCU did. WE COULD HAVE HAD SO MUCH BETTER)

I would let her pin me to the mat and crush my skull in

“Oh, COME ON, THIS is what you like?! A creepy goth and her pet dog!” SHUT UP, DEWEY, THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANT! I’m surprised Webby didn’t slap him for the “creepy goth” comment seeing as Lena is goth and misunderstood

“HECKA YEAH! HECKA YEAH!” SHE’S SO COOL AND SEXY AND SHE HAS A DOG

Poor Huey, he’s doing his best. Hope he takes a shower later because he got pretty sweaty

HECKA COULD STEP ON ME AND I’D SAY THANK YOU

Why did Huey have all those corn puns?

“YOU’RE THE WORST! YOU’RE THE WORST!” It’s just not Huey’s day

“You don’t have to try to make it sound great, it already is.” Did this remind anyone else of Dewey’s “don’t overthink it” advice to Launchpad from Double-O Duck? He’s doing his best to help Huey

I WANT HECKA TO DESTROY ME

“EMBRACE THE BOOZE BOOS.”

Poor Dewey

WEBBY IS A BEAST! SHE WAS BORN FOR THIS!

“EMBRACE YOUR INNER HEEL!” Cuz being a heel is fun!

DUDE, WEBBY TOOK DOWN THE GODDESS OF DEATH WITH NOTHING BUT HER LEGS AND THIGHS! WE STAN!

I like that Fenny has knee pads on

“AW, YOU’RE SO DANGEROUS AND CUTE! I JUST WANT TO PET YOUR LITTLE BELLY!” WEBBY IS ME

“A classic ‘who’s a good boy?’ gambit!” AND I’D FALL FOR IT TOO! SUCH A GOOD BOI

“Wait, am I the Launchpad here?” Bitch, you WISH

“YOU CAN’T GIVE CANDY TO A DOG!” This is why you don’t have a pet, Dewey

“WHOA, back from THE DEAD for the QUEEN of the DEAD!”

Kind of a dick move, Louie

AIR GUITAR!

Jormungandr looks like a Masters of the Universe knock-off toy

WHO’S A GOOD BOI? YOU ARE!

“With a toxic personality” I think you’re projecting a bit, Jormungandr 

How does Huey not know what a battle royale is? That is a very common term! Hell, there is a well known book and movie with that title!

“I’m just a humble, noble snake man of the people.” Why does the term snake man make me laugh so much?  

WOY REFERENCE FTW

Dewey needs a hug! And some therapy would probably be a good idea

Scrooge’s speech started on a good note then went downhill FAST

“And lastly, I’ll use the dust of your bones as sweetener in my tea.” DAMN

“TOO FAR!” I DON’T THINK IT’S FAR ENOUGH! TELL HIM HOW YOU WILL BATHE IN HIS BLOOD

FUCK YEAH BEAKLEY!

SHE GAVE HIM THE CHAIR! I think this CONFIRMS Beakley as a wrestling fan

“I know we’re supposed to take over for Scrooge one day, but do you ever wonder if maybe we’re not cut out for it?” YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO WONDER THOSE THINGS AT ALL! 

Louie’s like WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!

“Be LP” My new mantra

Aw, Louie sees Dewey as a hero. Like how LP saw Drake as a hero. I think @drakepad is onto something, this scene and the fight scene seem WAAAAY too much like Drake’s intro to be just a coincidence

I keep saying this, but Louie should consider a career in motivational speaking. He knows what people need to hear

“Let’s do this!” “I don’t know.” “Let’s Dewey this?” “I’m in.”

“I’LL SHED YOUR SKIN FOR YOU!” If he hadn’t of had an old man back moment that would have been a BRUTAL CUT

OMG WAS LAUNCHPAD WEARING THAT THE WHOLE TIME? You see his clothes fly off when he jumps in the ring

“Whoa. In a COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED TWIST, the announcer was Captain Crash THIS WHOLE TIME!” LP does underground wrestling matches in his spare time, TELL ME I’M WRONG

“YOUR CATCHPHRASES ARE FORCED!” I agree, Dewey could have done WAY BETTER

I like Louie just GLARING at the dude who insulted Dewey’s catchphrase

LP looks so proud of Huey

“I don’t care at all, why should I?” Methinks the snake man doth protest too much

I like how Jormungandr’s pupils are thinner during the climax. It shows off his true nature

Dewey should have been the one to do a spin attack, ya know, cuz he’s Sonic? I’ll go now

“The Pop never Stops.” That was better

WHERE ARE ALL THESE CHAIRS COMING FROM?!

I LEGIT thought Strongbeard was gonna throw Dewey his axe and I was like Dewey wouldn’t be able to lift that

SUPER SAIYAN DEWEY! Also was that a TIGER SNARL?

I like the ice pack on Launchpad’s head. Just because he can take a lot of damage doesn’t mean that LP is immune to pain

I like that the crowd CHANGED THEIR BANNERS! Nice

LOUIE AND WEBBY LOOKED SO CUTE!

LP tearing up

“A true people’s hero” I feel like that phrase will come back in relation to other characters (cough DW cough)

Scrooge is such a little shit, it’s kind of adorable

THAT END SHOT! THAT SONG!

This was a SUPER FUN EPISODE! I couldn’t really tell where they were going and I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT! I wish we had gotten Huey in some wrestling gear but maybe next time. I like the message that doing the right thing isn’t always popular but I kind of feel like Dewey getting the crowd on his side muddled the message somewhat. Poor Dewey needs therapy or something so he doesn’t feel like he needs CONSTANT approval. Again, he’s 11 YEARS OLD and shouldn’t be put into such a serious position. LP was VIP this episode. I’m bummed we’re on hiatus again, but WHAT an episode to end on!

[randomoranges]

these blurbs are recycled. back in 2015, i had written these for another teacher au verse for another fandom. i never got around to posting them for the other fandom [i don’t think so. if anything they’re on my old LJ somewhere, but anyways.] i decided to re-read them and update them a little. these are based on true events and some wishful thinking. 

the wishful thinking part is that i really would like to have an Edward lamao. 

Teaching AU

Planning

Étienne had no idea what it was that had possessed him, when he agreed to this contract. Sure, he had a degree that said he could teach, yes, he actually did want to work, but he had no idea how to organise his lessons and the curriculum only helped him so much. He could do anything he wanted and the idea was overwhelming to say the least. That was the way art was – basically, he could have the kids do whatever project he so desired, so long as they ended up learning whatever it was the Progressions of Learning said. It didn’t matter how it was the students learned about primary colours, so long as they did. Étienne would have preferred some guidance – some left over projects from the year before to at least get him started and guided.

 He was still a little shell-shocked. This was his first contract, the staff was nice, but the school was enormous and he felt as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. It didn’t help that he was the only art teacher in the building and therefore had no other art colleagues on hand, (why had he agreed, why?) He would have liked to been able to exchange ideas with someone else – someone who knew the program and had done this for a few years – who knew the school.

 Étienne sighed and tried to calm down his racing heart. He hated feeling like an incompetent. He could come up with projects easily, but – would the students enjoy them? Would they be able to do them? Would they breeze through the project in thirty minutes instead of the four periods he had planned? And then there was the grading – the groups – so many groups, so many projects and thus, so much grading. How did one manage it all? How did teachers not sign their souls over when they started?

 There were high hopes riding on him and he didn’t want to disappoint.

 If he was honest with himself, Étienne would admit that he had spent the past two weeks fretting during sleepless nights over this job and that so far, it was more stress than fun. He hated this. He missed his free time. He missed going home and doing something for himself. Something fun. He was always bone tired when he got home and there was always something work related to do; e-mails, grading, planning, preparing, thinking – thinking – thinking. Even when he tried to sleep, his brain would kick into gear and play over the days lessons and over think the upcoming ones. There was no break. Ever.

 But he wasn’t one who gave up.

 He would show them, damn it. He would show the man who hired him that he had made the right choice.

 Even if it meant more sleepless nights and more after hours at school trying to keep his head above water.

 Étienne sighed and opened up another tab on his computer, looking for some inspiration. At least the school was quiet now.

 Printer

Edward didn’t know why, but somehow or other, he had decided that this year, he would make the new science exam, since apparently, the one the school had used last year was garbage and he had So Many Great Ideas.

 Even though he had three other colleagues who equally taught fifth grade science, he had volunteered to do it, to show that he was willing to be part of the team, help out, and get involved. Or something equally wonderful and daft.

 That was fine, except now he found himself alone, in the teacher’s room, on a Friday night, two hours after classes had let out, trying to coax life into the printer.

 He wanted to go home.

 These exams needed to be printed now, so that they could be looked over on Monday and then distributed by Tuesday. Therefore, now was not the time for the printer to stop working, thank you very much.

 Edward would have gone to a different printer, but this was the only decent photocopier that could staple and hole punch the documents as well. He would have asked another teacher, but it was past six and no one was left in the school. Well, no one he knew of. No one in their right mind, really.

 He was tired, hungry, on the brink of a nervous breakdown because of this stupid printer, stressed, anxious and overworked. He had piles of marking to do this weekend and he had lessons to plan. To top it all off, today had been a day six and he hated those. (It was the one day in his schedule where he didn’t have a specialist and of course it fell on a Friday, when the kids were more excitable. He’d tried to make his afternoon easier by putting on a movie, but that had been met with only partial success.)

 It was a lot. It was too much. Why had he ever agreed to any of this? Why did anyone ever agree to this? And most importantly, how could anyone ever even think that teachers’ had it easy? This was anything but. Sure, he loved his students, would do anything for them, but.

 He let out a frustrated cry and slammed his hand on the printer. There was no way the paper was still jammed or that the ink cartridge was low. He tried rebooting the machine, but he got the same error message as before.

 He was going to give up.

 He had let everyone down.

 He knew he shouldn’t have gotten so involved; he should have kept his mouth shut.

 He should have minded his own business.

 He should have – he let out a mangled sob and then heard a soft cough from the door.

 Edward spun around quickly and wiped his eyes. He wasn’t alone anymore.

 He squinted at the door and saw the new art teacher – Étienne. What was he doing here? At this time? Why wasn’t he home?  

 “Late night?” He asked, all smiles and casualness, but Edward had a feeling that Étienne was just hiding his own exhaustion behind his friendly smile.

 “No – I mean – yes, I mean...” He looked at the printer and wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

 “Printer problems?”

 “Yes... and I was almost done. Well, for the day. Not like we’re ever done.”

 Étienne laughed and stepped inside the dimly lit office. There had been daylight before, but he hadn’t bothered turning the lights earlier, too absorbed in his work.

 “Mind if I take a look?”

 “Go ahead. It can’t get any worse than this. Although, if you fix it, I might just want to kiss you.” He joked and then realised how that sounded. He was about to apologise for the comment, but Étienne offered him a smile and a soft laugh instead. Edward stepped aside and let Étienne have a look. Étienne turned on the lights and Edward squinted at the sudden bright lights.

 Étienne looked at the printer and hummed in concentration. He opened the tray, checked for a paper jam, and Edward wanted to tell him that he had done all of that already, but, well, Étienne could have the pleasure of finding that out for himself.

 It took Étienne a little over an hour, during which they exchanged polite conversation. Edward tried to print his document, when it seemed that it would work, but every time, without fault, the printer stuttered or printed out blanks, much to both of their discouragement.  

 Finally, after four threats of setting the damned thing on fire, three litanies of curses and one break to cool off, the photocopier finally spat out Edward’s document.

 Edward first kissed the stack of freshly printed-paper and then launched himself into Étienne’s arms.

 Art Room

Edward looked at the small mountain of exams he still had to grade and groaned. He hated the end of term for many different reasons and this was definitively one of them.

 He had more grading than he cared to do and the report cards needed to be filled in afterwards as if he didn’t have enough to do already.

 It was a good thing he was on top of his grading.

 He could only imagine what it would be like if he wasn’t.

 Actually, he didn’t want to imagine.

 At least he only had twenty-eight students to deal with. He had no idea how Étienne managed. He’d drown. He’d never be ahead. There was no way. Sometimes, he looked at Étienne correct projects and he wondered how he did it – how he decided what was full marks and what deserved less. Étienne had explained it to him once; had shown him his very detailed rubric, but even then.

 Edward threw his red pen down and fished out his cell phone. He needed a break. He wanted to go home and forget about all of this. He wanted to pretend he was a regular man with a regular 8 to 4 job that didn’t follow him home. He wanted to go on a date with his boyfriend and not pass out on the sofa by nine-thirty like some ancient dinosaur man.

 He opened up his conversation with Étienne, typing out a new message quickly.

 “Are you almost done?” He typed out. Maybe, if Étienne was nearly done, he could use it as an excuse to head home.

 The reply came a few seconds later, “Not even close. You?”

 Edward sighed; so much for an earlier night. “Likewise. I need a break. Mind if I pop by yours for a bit?”

 “God, please. I need a distraction something fierce.”

 Edward put down his phone and stretched luxuriously, letting out a groan. His neck was stiff and his shoulders were sore, but standing up felt good.

 Étienne’s art room was two floors below his own classroom and they had made the art room their own little meeting point when they wanted to sit together away from everyone and everything else. The art room’s doors had no windows, there was a comfortable plush couch in the back of it, and there weren’t any other classrooms beyond it. Therefore, it was the perfect place for some quiet time together.

 Edward made his way towards the other room and took a moment to listen to the quiet of the building. There was something soothing and a little eerie about a quiet school in the dead of the night. He thought it was calming. It was different from the regular hustle and bustle of the day, with the students running down the stairs after class, before class, during class being their rowdy selves. Now, he could hear himself think and breathe.

 “Fancy meeting you here.” Étienne greeted him at the door with a pleased little smile.

 Edward couldn’t stop himself from grinning. He liked the fact that he could meet up with his boyfriend like this. He had friends who wondered how it was they ever had anything to talk about when they worked at the same place. It worked for them. They made it work. If anything, it meant that Étienne understood his work reality and vice versa. They both knew how demanding it was to teach and so, they never fought over the other “being lazy and not having done a chore” or something. Edward liked that they had the morning and evening commute together, even if they didn’t say anything. Just being together and sharing the same space was enough.

 They exchanged tired, fond smiles and Edward closed the door behind him, before pulling Étienne close for a hug, leaning back against the door.

 “God, you look how I feel.” He told Étienne.

 Étienne laughed and gave him a one over. “I can say the same about you, Murphy, and yet you’re still a sight for sore eyes.”

 “Kind as always, Maisonneuve.”

 “Only for you.” Étienne said, soft, and closed the distance between them, cupping Edward’s cheeks with his hands to press a kiss to the corner of Edward’s mouth.

 “No. Kiss me proper, damn it. I need something to survive this hell night.” Edward pouted.

 Étienne’s laugh was more of a rasp, but he was never one to refuse Edward a kiss. He pulled him closer and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, looking into those eyes he loved so much, before he kissed him properly this time. Edward sighed against him, held him closer and chased another kiss when Étienne made to pull back.

 This was by far the greatest perk of working with his boyfriend. It wasn’t as if they used every chance they got to make-out, but it was nice to know that they could. That when Étienne needed a hug they could sneak one in behind closed doors and that when they were both doing their usual unpaid overtime, they could indulge in a little moment or two to make the night a little easier.

 After Hours

Parent-teacher interviews were finally over and the desks and chairs had been put away. Tomorrow was a PED day, but at least it meant a reprieve from the kids, even if they still needed to be in at the same time and then have to sit through meetings that could always be summed up in an e-mail but never were.

 Even though Étienne was exhausted and he wanted nothing more but curl up in bed and sleep until spring, there was a get together in the staff room and he could go for a little socialising. It wasn’t as if he had time to see his friends anymore anyways.

 Being the new teacher, he hadn’t really gotten the chance to make new friends, but Edward was there and so he figured he could hang out with him. If anything, there was free booze from the looks of it and that in itself would make this a little more interesting.

 Luckily, being the art teacher meant that even if he didn’t really know the other teachers, they knew of him and that he existed in the school. They all exchanged polite hellos and congratulated themselves on surviving the night, before toasting to that.

 Étienne found Edward by the back of the room, sitting on one of the couches. He seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with the other fifth grade teachers and Étienne figured he might as well join them, even if just to sit somewhere.

 “Excellent, I thought you had left.” Edward said with a bright grin and Étienne thought that maybe this wasn’t Edward’s first drink, judging by the pink of his cheeks.

 “Nah, you’re my ride home, or did you forget?” He joked. Honestly, the rides home and to school were a life saver. He needed to get Edward a proper Christmas thank you gift just for that. And also because Edward had offered him friendship when it seemed as though he would be alone in this new school and drown in his own feelings.

 They exchanged a few anecdotes from the night, until one of the gym teachers showed up with a special bottle of whiskey and a stack of mismatched teacups.

 “Looks like things are going to get interesting!” Edward grinned at him. Étienne could only nod as he was handed a cup.

 The janitor came by to kick them out around eleven, when he had to arm the school. They didn’t mind, really, since they did want to head home and they did have to show up to school the following day, even if the idea of calling in sick and sleeping in seemed oh so alluring.

 Étienne’s head was spinning a little and he wasn’t sure if it had to do with the extra cup of whiskey or the fact that Edward had been pressed close to his side, all evening long, with their legs touching and shoulders bumping into each other. However, for once in his life, he was happy to have the cold November air blast him in the face when they stepped out.

 If anything, it had been an excellent way to end the evening and he had connected with a few other teachers. Especially Edward. Edward was fast turning into a potentially Real Friend. Friend he could meet up with outside of school type.

 “You ready to head home?” Edward asked, bundling up in his scarf and coat. Étienne liked the rosy tinge to his cheeks and wondered if it was the cold, the booze, or a blush. For half a second Étienne had a vision of going to home to someone – of going back home with Edward and he mourned the fact that he wasn’t – that there was no one home waiting for him and to kiss him goodnight.

 “Yeah; I’m beat. You?”

 “I’m okay. I guess I’ll pick you up tomorrow? Around 7h30?” At least he could sleep in an extra thirty minutes.

 “Sure looks like it. Wanna grab lunch during break?” He threw out, feeling bold. They’d never done lunch before. They kept it at the lifts, which were already nice, even if sometimes they were quiet. Edward seemed surprised, but recovered quickly. His cheeks taking on an interesting shade of pink that Étienne wasn’t sure if it had to do with the cold, the booze, or something else.

 “Sounds like a plan.” He finally said and nodded to himself.

 Étienne grinned feeling light-headed and giddy.

 FIN

[karmabansheenz]

Do I Stay or do I Go Now?

Well, everyone, this is it, my first ever Fanfic. I’m a Guy Ritchie super fan and I, like most, am obsessed with the character dynamics between Ilya, Solo, and Gaby.  As I attempt to pay homage to this, please forgive any faux pas! Trigger Warning: Fiction contains attempted sexual assault.  

1960’s

Napoleon Solo Ilya Kuryakin Gabriella ‘Gaby’ Teller

Who am I?

I’m an orphan. My Father was a Nazi rocket Scientist and my Mother – I don’t speak of her.  

I am not proud of my lineage, not many daughters of the Nazi regime are.

I don’t like to go on about myself and neither do I particularly enjoy talking of the past. Therefore, all you need to know is that in the pursuit of trying to locate my Father I was recruited by one Alexander Waverly of the British intelligence agency and have now somehow found myself embroiled within a covert operations team alongside a devastatingly incorrigible American CIA Playboy, Napoleon Solo and a giant brooding Russian KGB Agent, Ilya Kuryakin.  

Our codename; U.N.C.L.E.

“My, my Gaby.” Waverly tutted, jutting his short chin out as he admonished me, “We are particularly disinterested today I might say.”  

He wasn’t wrong, he was never bloody wrong but I refused to take the bait, instead, I simply folded my arms across my chest lounging further back in the dark leather armchair.  

Beside me, I felt Ilya tense, not one to approve of my ever being anything but the soft feminine creature he so yearned for me to be.  Unable to resist I, therefore, took a deliciously long, sweet time altering my crossed legs.  Fingers suddenly struck, ticking against his pressed grey trousers. It was a dead giveaway that I’d be successful in agitating him and only happy to further the strain I cocked my head and slipped the end of my pencil into my mouth.  

Napoleon’s sharp kick to the back of my chair startled me as I slid against the linoleum floor.  

“What?” I asked him doe-brown eyes wide.

“You know what. Take pity on Peril.”, the almost permanent natural quirk to his lips made it hard to take him seriously.

“Don’t speak for me, Cowboy.”  

I rolled my eyes at the deep gravelly growl.  

“Don’t do this, don’t do that.” I mimicked his surly monotone. “Can’t you ever have fun?”  

“It’s nice,” interjected Waverly in his overly dry clip, “to see that after two successful missions you’re still all such good friends. Now if you don’t mind,” the slap of a stack of folders hitting the desk echoed around Alexander’s office, “back to business.”  

I took the top folder scanning the front page of the dossier, paying particular attention to the small polaroid attached.  

“William Chisholm,” The ice in Waverly’s glass chimed as he swirled his whiskey around, “Philanderer, business tycoon, madman. Quite standard statistics for a man with naturally sadistic tastes. Rumor has it he’s grown tired of kidnapping and trafficking women for fun and now has decided that biological warfare is more ‘his thing.’”

“Sounds like a real swell guy.” Napoleon drawled rising and releasing the top button of his shirt as he helped himself to a drink. “So, what's the plan?”

“It's delightfully simple really.” Waverly’s eyes met mine. “He’s very, very partial to a particular type of woman. And we, well we just seem to have exactly what he's looking for.”  

“No.” Ilya stood his chair crashing against the floor. “Absolutely not.”  

I took the whiskey from Napoleon's outstretched hand and shot it back. “When do we start?”

Ilya took a menacing step towards me and ignoring him I stacked my feet up on Waverly’s desk, empty glass shaking in Solo’s direction for a refill. Waverly cocked an eyebrow at me and I smiled,

“Well...?”

***

“Let's run through this, again shall we?”  

Ilya towered over Napoleon, “I. Don't. Need. To. Go. Through. It. Again.”

Solo pushed on unperturbed. “Gaby and I will attend the event together in the pretense of being Husband and Wife.”  

“You are not-”

“Oh, for god's sake Ilya.” I turned from the window overlooking New York City’s grandeurs skyline, my small foot tapping against the plush mustard carpet. “It’s a good plan, Solo and I will-”

“You should be My Woman.” the big blond Russian barked.

“Yes, yes,” I waved my hand at him, “Because it worked so well the last time, we played pretend.”

“Face it Peril,” Solo fitted his sapphire cufflinks, adjusting the sleeve of his tailor-made shirt, “Once again our Little Iron Curtain Girl has the right of it. You couldn’t even standby and be mugged next to Gaby. How do you think you’ll behave when the entire goal is to try to have her accosted?” he slanted an eyebrow, expertly knotting his bowtie even without the use of a mirror.

Ilya’s huge hands curled into fists at his side. “I do not like this plan.”

“You don’t have to like it.” I sighed lifting my thick brunette hair over my shoulder as I turned my back to him. “Now, zip me.”  

Napoleon saluted me with his glass as he left the sitting room.  

“Gaby,” I felt the hairs on my neck spark to life as his large index finger pressed against the top of my spine, skimming down, dipping into the low curve of my back before he pulled at the zipper, quickly covering once exposed skin.  

I could feel the heat of his body behind me so close pressing inwards without moving. I turned, sliding the string straps of the dress up and over my shoulders as I craned my neck all the way back, just to look up at him.  

“Gaby.”

“It’s time.”  

I smiled at Solo’s perfectly timed call, feeling Ilya’s long fingers slide from the back of my neck where they’d briefly tangled into my hair.  

“No garter this time?” I quipped up at him. His light grey-blue eyes were sad as he reached into his pocket pulling out a large engagement ring with a familiar centered pearl, surrounded by diamonds.  

“No.” He took my hand, sliding the band onto my finger and this time I let him. “I will be listening.”

I smiled feeling my bottom lip tremble with a sudden stab of fear. “As usual.” was all I managed as we gathered to leave.

Ilya again balled up his fists, “I will be able to hear her Cowboy. But you, you do not let her out of your sight.”

Solo bristled, his pretty ego so easy to rattle, “Christ Peril, you think you’re the only one who cares about Gaby?”  

“Not out of your sight Cowboy!”

Napoleon wrapped the white minx coat around my shoulders and nodded at the Russian, suddenly utterly serious. The intensity of the moment made the fine hairs on my arms prickle.

I rested my tiny hand on Ilya’s wide chest, feeling the quick thud of his heartbeat, pearl winking from the overhead lights. “I will be fine Ilya. I’m a big girl.”

***

Solo pressed against me as we swayed to the live orchestra at the Charity Gala. It was always the same, deranged men hiding behind mountains of good deed diversions.  

“Spotted him yet?” Napoleon's warm whiskey-scented breath tickled over my ear and I moved to tuck my head under his chin scanning faces around us as he waltzed me across the floor. I spied ‘him’ suddenly striding down the main stairway, a stoic blond porcelain doll upon his arm.  

“Gaby?”

“Mm-hum.” I made the affirmation in my throat gently taking over the lead in the dance to turn Solo back the way we’d come.

“Well done.” he smiled down at me. “Ready?”  

I wasn’t, not really but when did that ever seem to matter?  

Dressed head to toe in red I knew I was hard to miss and though I was small, I was not oblivious to the desire to ‘protect’ that that brought out in most men. William Chisholm's character profile was simple. He liked a good chase and he certainly enjoyed taking things that didn’t belong to him. Therefore, in order to bait our trap well, Napoleon and I were really going to have to sell this sham marriage.  

My back now to the target I felt Solo’s hand slid down drifting over my backside. I reached behind me and gripped his wrist. “Naughty boy.”

“But Darling,” he drawled his middle American accent thick like honey. “It’s simply impossible not to misbehave when you look like this.”  

“But Darling,” I cooed, “This is not the time.”

His dark blue eyes flashed along with his smile and probably for the first time, this close I really, clearly understood what that azure gaze could do to a woman when you had its full attention.  

“It's always time.” he teased filling his hand and squeezing.  

I turned it up, giggling and slapping at his tuxedo covered shoulder. “Not here.”

His hand trailed upwards cupping my face and I turned away in a spin but was quickly pulled back and dipped over his strong arm. “At least play fair Mrs. Jones.”  

Laughing as he set me back on my feet, I noted eyes on us. Happiness did that, it drew people like flies, sucked them into its web. A few even softly clapped as he kissed my hand and led me from the dance floor deftly plucking two champagne flutes from a passing waiter. “To us.”  

I clinked glasses with him and sipped coquettishly.  

“Careful now.” he chuckled catching my chin in his thumb and forefinger, dipping to press his mouth against mine. My lips tingled and my knees wobbled as his tongue swept along my lower lip. I let my eyes shine; wasn’t sure I could have stopped them. “Shall we leave early?” he purred his gaze flicking quickly to the left.  

“I would hope not.”  

I pressed my fingers to my lips in feigned surprise, drawing away from the unfamiliar voice.  

Solo turned to face the cause of our interruption, shifting slightly so his body was between me and our Mr. William Chisholm. “Excuse me I don’t believe we’ve met.” He extended his hand, “Theodore Jones.”

Chisholm took it, his dark green eyes never leaving my face. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jones.” Releasing Solo’s hand, he sipped from his own glass, eyes raking over me. “And who might this delightful creature be?”

‘Theo’ moved backward his hand again at my lower back, “Ah, allow me to introduce my beautiful wife, Olivia.”  

William took my proffered hand his thumb grazing my knuckle's as he pressed a lingering kiss. “Wife?” he glanced back at the porcelain doll. “Yes, I have one of my own though I must admit she seems rather dull compared to yours.”  

Solo cleared his throat, pressing me possessively against his side.  

William’s smile thinned. He was by no means an unattractive man, wavy black hair, tanned skin, fit build. But knowing what I did, I could see it. The underlying darkness that sequestered his inner demons.

“How have I never met your acquaintance, before now?” he inquired casually, too casually.  

Before Napoleon could answer I excused myself feeling both men's eyes on me as I weaved through guests in the pretense of needing the powder room. After touching up my lipstick and tucking away a few loose curls of hair I reentered and helped myself to a new glass of liquid courage.  

I was unsettled. I felt like I’d stared into the belly of the beast, and it had rattled me.  

Strolling through the wide corridors of the gallery I finally stopped before an abstract painting of two bodies intertwined. I drained the flute I held and reached for another, fingers colliding with Chisholm's.  

“Please, allow me.” he raised the glass, licking off the droplets that had spilled over the rim before handing it to me.  

I took it, trying to make every movement exaggeratingly slow. Through shuttered lashes, I stole a peek up at him and was pleased to watch his nostrils flare.        

“Where have you been hiding Mrs. Jones.?”    

I turned my back on him facing the painting once more. “Olivia, I insist.” Sensing him move rather than seeing him, I assumed he’d come to stand directly behind me.  

“Not Livi? Or Liv?”

His breath brushed my bare neck and I snorted into my champagne. “You insult me, William.”

“How so?”  

Looking back over my shoulder at him I again sipped my drink, “Do I look like a Livi or a Liv to you?” The question hung in the air, I felt the heat of it and cleared my throat putting space between us. “Besides I’m sure my husband told you of our recent adventures abro-.”

“He did,” William interrupted, “But I would prefer to hear your take on matters.”

I smiled, obviously wanting to make sure our stories matched I obliged him stepping slightly further away each time I felt him reach for the small of my back. “Is your curiosity quite satisfied?” I ended.

“No.” He breathed his movement more determined this time as he caught my wrist. Startled and playing the role I needed to, I tried to pull away. “Not at all I’m afraid.”  

I eyed him nervously.  

His smile flashed, predator-like. “I know your type Olivia.” he jerked on my wrist dragging me against his body. “You like to play at being in charge, but that’s just because someone hasn’t taken you in hand properly yet.”  

It was a risky move but I went with what my instincts told me as his hard mouth crushed down on mine. Reeling back I slapped him, immediately covering my mouth with my hands in shock.  

His eyes were alight. “Oh yes, I know your type indeed.”  

“I have to go.” I stammered.  

“Where are you staying?” he caught my upper arm, “Answer me.” his voice, though quiet, cracked like a whip.  

Impeccably timed as usual ‘Theodore’ appeared around the corner with my fur coat in hand. “Darling, there you are.” he slid me back into the minx, “We’re going to be late.”

“Another engagement?” Chisholm feigned polite interest.

“I’m afraid so.” Solo smiled.  

“Let me extend an invitation to you both to join me at my home tomorrow.”  

I pressed into Napoleons side averting my eyes from William. Letting the men speak, though made sure enough that Chisholm could see my shaky hand clutching at my husband's jacket lapel.

“It’s a little get together. A celebration of a job well done for tonight's event. I won’t take no for an answer.”  

“Well if that’s the case,” Theodore Jones quipped and the men shook hands again, “We’re staying in room 308 at the Waldorf if you would like to send the information over. Sadly, I must insist we leave now though.”

Knowing that Chisholm would expect further contact, I purposefully denied him interlocking my hands around Solo’s elbow as we nodded our goodbyes and slipped from the venue.  

***

  “Why must you always insist on behaving like this?”

I rubbed my head in my hands eyeing the half empty bottle of vodka sitting in front of me. It had been a long night, Napoleon made sure we had stayed out in case we were being followed.  So, of all the wonderful thing we could have done in New York City, we’d attended the god-awful opera for appearances sake and now, well after midnight, all I wanted was to drink myself to sleep.  

  “More importantly,” I complained, “Why must you always insist upon making me drink alone?” I shook the vodka at Ilya, “Besides, this is my room. So, I will drink how I like. In my room.”

 “You are like a little girl.”

Swigging straight from the bottle I waggled my finger at him.

  “Hey!” I cried out, dumbstruck as he moved suddenly, snatching it out of my hand and striding straight across the room, begin emptying the rest of my vodka down the bathroom sink.  

I flew after him, slapping my hands against his back and shoulders. I might as well be hitting a block wall for all the notice he took. One steely strong arm held me off as he poured out my only hope of a good night's sleep. “Stop!” I yelled resorting to yanking at his shirt.  

Finished he swung to face me his eyes a stormy grey. “I will do it.”  

I chewed on my bottom lip backing away from the raw heat of him, even as I stubbornly lifted my tiny chin, “Do what?”  

  “You. Know. What.”          

  “Pfft.” It was an un-lady like snort, my eyes daring him, “You had your chance in Istanbul and you didn’t.”

His face was stony as he towered over me “Do not speak to me of Istanbul.”

  “Why?”  

His palm struck the wall beside me. I didn’t even flinch.

  “Why Ilya?” I purred finger jabbing him in the chest before trailing down lower, “Is it because you liked it?”

His jaw ticked, “Stop.”  

My finger hit the ridge of his belt buckle, “Ilya?”  

He was staring at my hand, resting above the seam of his trousers.  

“Is it because you like to listen to me?” Tick, tock went his jaw again. “Did you want to watch me?”

Squealing I found myself suddenly tucked under his arm as he carried me from the bathroom. “What are you doing?!”  

Huffing as my elbow found his abdomen, he juggled his hold on me until I was face down staring at the ugly carpet of the suite's bedroom. I could feel the restrained violence in him. Actually, folded over his thighs I could feel all of him.  

His hands on my shoulder and hip pinned me and then he branded me with one.  

I couldn’t even cry out, or gasp.

The second one was harder, sharper and mouth open against the side of the bed I sucked in a breath at the third before coming to life. “Ilya stop it!” I scrambled to free myself from his lap, fists clutching at the bedding and his trouser leg. “Stop Ilya!”  

Four – Five.  

  “Ilya!” my blood pounded in my ears.  

Six.  

I screamed and he released me so suddenly I fell onto the carpet on all fours. Scrambling away I sat against the wall, hissing at the tenderness of my backside, ending up on my knees.  

  “Bastard.” It was a sob.

His eyes lifted from staring at his hands as if they didn’t belong to him, to my face and I read the regret in them, and... something else entirely.  

  “Russian Bastard.”  

Shame flickered across his aquiline features and my gut responded in kind. How long had I taunted him, teased him, goaded him into putting his hands on me?  

I had wanted him too and knew him well enough that nothing would have driven him to touch me like his anger would. We'd worked side by side for well over six months and other than wrestling in a hotel room in Italy he had only ever really touched me with his eyes. He didn’t think he was worthy of me; he didn’t think he was enough.  

And here it was, my moment to tell him, he was.  

And I couldn’t do it.  

On his feet suddenly he paced before me, long legs eating up the limited space in the room. Hands plowing through his thick blond hair before he froze in place, staring at the door to the room.

  “No.” I whispered.  

He made to move towards it and I grabbed one large hand in both of mine. “Ilya.” He looked past me still at the door, “Please,” I begged softly, “Please don’t leave me here on my own.”

The plea hung in the air between us. I pressed my forehead against the backs of his knuckles. “Please.”

And then...  

Finally, his strong long fingers wrapped around mine.  

***

“Good Morning.”  

Solo’s voice was irritatingly bland as if finding his partners together abed was nothing out of the usual. Granted we were both still completely clothed I was however fully curled atop the huge Russian like a happy kitten.  

Ilya’s arms that had been wrapped around me dropped away as the curtains were opened and sunshine stung our eyes. As we moved away from each other the Americans eyebrows did suddenly arch in surprise as I wiped quickly at the corner of my mouth and he spied the corresponding wet patch on Ilya’s shirt.  

The envelope in Napoleon's hand was waved in front of my face. I snatched it from him, broke the seal and scanned the contents as he dropped into one of the suites armchairs.  

Snorting I flattened it against Ilya’s chest in disgust.  

  “What?” Solo smiled drolly.

I looked up at Ilya watching his expressionless features as he read the letter and then reread it. “I don’t like it.” was all he said after a while and handed it over to the American.  

  “Oh, for god's sake,” I quipped heading towards the bathroom, “that's all you’ve said since we arrived!” Shutting the door, I slid back against it to the floor, my hands were shaking.  

  “So, it’s a different invitation than we were expecting.” Solo called out, “But it’s still an invitation.”

  “Oh wow,” the Russian drawled, “Love your logic Cowboy.”  

I pressed my face into my hands, I wanted my mother and that gross juvenile desire only fueled the rise of quickening anxiety I'd begun to experience. Splashing cool water on my face I flushed the toilet for effect and returned to the room, leaning against the wall as casually practiced, as I could.  

  “We go then?” even I was impressed with how disinterested I sounded.  

Napoleon's fingers drummed on the armrest.  

Ilya stared at me, I stared at Solo, Solo stared at the ceiling.  

The clock in the room ticked, ticked, ticked.

  “We go.”

***

  “You never cease to surprise me, Gaby.” Waverly signaled for the waiter as I removed my enormous white circled glasses and folding them placed them carefully in my handbag.  “Tea?” he asked.

I shook my head.  

  “Very well. Just the one tea then.”

I waited until we were left alone again.  “Thank you for coming to meet with me.”

  “Yes well, you didn’t really give me choice.” he cleared his throat and busied himself with his cuffs.  

I forced a smile.  

Again, we waited for the waiter to finishing serving Waverly his tea.

 “So?”

I watched people on the sidewalk outside the café, I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him when I made my shameful admission. “I can’t do this.”

The teacup clinked loudly as it hit the saucer on the table but I bravely continued,  

  “It's different this time. I just, I can’t.”

Alexander took a deep breath, leaning on his elbow’s he stapled his fingers in front him peering over them at me. “But I’m afraid Gabriella, that you and I both know, you don’t have a choice. Do you?”

I snapped my eyes to his and was shocked at the sadness there, it was genuine.  

  “Somethings different Waverly.”

He lent back, resumed drinking his tea and mused. “I’ve never lied to you Gabby. So, I won’t start now. He’s a dangerous man, but no worse than the dangerous men you’ve faced before. Remember who your uncle was?”

Remember who my uncle was? What a hellishly absurd thing to say, how could I possibly forget?  

Me? His innocent, pretty, little, trusting niece.

Waverly read the change in my expression and held up his hand, “Forgive me.” was all he said and we resumed a collective silence.  

  “He sent us, well I should say, my husband, this, this morning.” I slid it towards Alexander.  

I didn’t watch him read it; I had already memorized it.  

Mr. T Jones,  

I delightfully request your presence tonight at a rather intimate gathering at my home.   All I ask is that you bring your lovely wife with you of course, along with a very, very open mind.

R. Chisholm

Waverly pushed it back towards me, “What did he say when you met with him last night?”

  “He invited us to a party, a celebration to mark the end of the charity drive I assumed.”  The silence stretched out, “I’ve read the dossier, I’ve read his file, I know what he’s capable of. You all know, yet you all expect me to somehow walk in there as bait while you search for files.” Silence still, I was beginning to become agitated. “Me, my body, myself – for what? For paper? For documents?” I’d started to hiss.  

  “Gabriella,”

 “No!” I slapped the palms of my hands on the table. Wavery looked bored. “If I do this. If I do this thing for you, it is the last assignment Alexander. The last!”

He was lazily nodding, more so to keep the peace. I was drawing lots and lots of very unwanted attention.  

  “Say it.” My eyes dared him to refuse.  

  “Yes.”

I unpacked my sunglasses. “Say it properly.”  

Waverly crossed his arms and sighed. “Very well Miss Teller. After the successful completion of this assignment, I will release you from the task force, codename UNCLE.”

***

My Hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My mascara wouldn’t stop running. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding.  

I needed a drink.  

Startled as I left the bathroom and found Solo again in the armchair of my suite, I didn’t have time to paste on my normal bored façade.  

  “Where is Ilya?” I rushed out panicked that he too might see me in my current vulnerable state.  

Solo, ever the gentleman, was quick to pour me a drink, and then another. “He’s busy playing with his Russian tech.” his long slender finger wiped at my cheek coming away black.  

I hadn’t even realized I’d begun to cry again.  

Wrapped up suddenly in Napoleon's arms I felt him kiss the top of my head, “It will be over before you know it.” He rocked me slightly as my breathing softened, “We may even get to dance again. You danced divinely Mrs. Jones.”

I laughed, soothed by the natural confidence Solo exuded. “For a chop-shop girl?”

He pulled back to look down at me eyes sparkling as he winked, “For a chop-shop girl.”

The suite door suddenly crashed open and desperate to hide my very real fear from Ilya I flew back to the safety of the bathroom as he advanced quickly on Napoleon.  

  “Now Peril, it's not what it looked like!”

From within my sanctuary, I heard the sound of splintering furniture, followed by plenty of huffing and grunting.  

Fine, I thought, just fine. Let them tear the place to shreds. They’d been acting like caged bears with sore heads ever since we arrived, it would do them both good to burn off some steam while I somehow got myself together.  

***

  “You’ll never get in.” Solo mocked.

  “I will.” Ilya was dusting the sleeves of his tuxedo as we emerged from the Mark X Jaguar and Solo handed the keys to the awaiting valet.  

  “No. You won't.”  Napoleon retorted

  “Watch me work Cowboy.” At the last minute, the Russian disappeared leaving just the two of us to be received at the front doors of the mansion. Wealth had never impressed me, Alexander Vinciguerra had tried to dazzle me with his enormous fortune in Italy, and I was even less moved as I stood in the ridiculous chandeliered foyer of William Chisholm’s ‘home’.

A home had to have a heart and I knew enough about this one's owner to know that wasn’t possible.  

  “Theo!” The booming cry came from down the hallway. “So good of you to join us.”  

The men heartily shook hands and I pressed tighter against Solo’s side.  

  “So good of you to bring your little wife too.”  

He gestured for us to follow him and I kept step with ‘Mr. Jones.’

  “You picked our curiosity with your strange invite William. We weren’t quite sure what to make of it, were we Darling?”

I smiled, shaking my head. “No, it was very vague.”

William laughed; it was forced. “Well you can’t go around advertising your personal life when you’re an upstanding citizen like myself.  I couldn’t quite risk openly inviting you to a swinger's party, having just met you.” His eyes never left my face as he spoke. “How would I know if you’d go straight to the papers, invite in hand.”

At the mention of swinging my heart dropped to my stomach, my fears confirmed and I pulled sharply on Solo’s arm, “Theo, we should go.”

  “Now see here,” Solo began squaring off with William “This is absurd, I-”

  “Mr. Jones, I specifically requested an open mind,” the quick clip of shoes told me at least three men were approaching us from behind. “I’ll be so disappointed if you tell me you’ve left that behind.”  

I peered over my shoulder at the same time as Solo, acknowledging the presence of the three large suited men. The message was clear.  

  “I suppose, err that is, there is no harm in a married couple broadening their horizons.”

William clapped Theodore on the shoulder, “Yes indeed! Well said Mr. Jones.”  

We followed Chisholm into the next room, Solo having to drag me the rest of the way.  

  “If it was good enough for the Romans and the Greeks!” William declared pushing red wine glasses into our hands, “It’s good enough for me.”  

I turned my back on the debauchery before me, cheeks flaming from the site of half-naked men and women openly coupling in front of one another. Gulping at the wine, Solo’s hand had ended up pressed against my abdomen and I could feel the tension in him. Being a handsome, quick-witted Playboy was one thing but this was too lewd, too base. I knew he disapproved.  

Seeing the stricken look on my face William countered, “Perhaps a quiet alcove for a gentler immersion?”

I allowed myself to be led and sat docilely beside Napoleon.  

  “Theo, let me properly introduce my wife, Tatiana?”  

The demure porcelain doll from the night before had been replaced by a lively half-dressed one that happily trotted over, arms wrapping around her husband as her eyes undressed mine. Although nowhere near as tall, her sharp facial features reminded me of Victoria Vinciguerra. I disliked her immediately and by the tightening of Solo’s hand on my knee, he’d made the unpleasant comparison also.  

  “Darling, are they here to play?”  

Napoleon cleared his throat as she moved towards him and not even having to act my eyes filled with tears. I didn’t want to see this; this sort of thing wasn’t for me.  

  “Olivia?” my husband called as Mrs. Chisholm suddenly perched on his lap and began to undo his tie.  

  “I’m fine.” I stammered, glancing around. I needed to get this over with, fast. “Where are the facilities?”

William gestured to the other side of the room and without delay I made a beeline for it. I didn’t dare look around until I was outside in the hallway again.  

Trembling, I was so far out of my depth.  

Thankfully alone, I slid past the obvious powder room making my way quickly up the stairs looking for a study. All our intel had said was it was in the left wing but so far the only bedroom after bedroom lined the hall.  

I was beginning to panic; I could feel the bubble of it rising up threatening to choke me as I opened the final door - to the master bedroom. Heat flashed behind my eyes, there were no more rooms to check.  

Hands against my heaving rib cage I stole one last look around the master bedroom, a tiny sliver of light I hadn't seen before winking under an internal doorway, into which - was a study.  

I had never shaken so much or worked so fast in my life. The bottom drawer was locked and running my hands under the desk I hit a secret compartment, my fingers touching the cold metal of a key as the sound of the outside master bedroom door closing reached my ears.  

I don’t know how I managed it but the key was back in place, papers folded and tucked in my purse and I was standing at the far side room, a book, hastily plucked from the wall to wall shelves, open and in hand as Chisolm entered.

Mask in place I turned slowly.  

  “Can I help you with anything?” he asked nonchalantly leaning against the desk I had been rummaging through only seconds before.  

I took a deep settling breath, “Books comfort me.”

He smiled lazily, “I think you were more comfortable downstairs than you want to admit, Mrs. Jones.” He crooked a finger at me. “Come, show me what novel was more interesting than getting to know me better?”

I obeyed, handing him the book and he briefly eyed the cover before placing it on the desk. “Emily Bronte. She has a unique way of describing love.” he mused as he lifted my hand to cradle his tanned face. “Will you haunt me I wonder?” he turned me suddenly, roughly, unzipping the back of my dress.  

I went numb. I had what I needed, clutched stupidly between my hands, by all accounts the job was done but my limbs started to go cold with the realization that this time there may not be any escape.  

  “Theo?”  

Chisholm’s lips pressed against my shoulder urgently as he took the purse out of my hands throwing it to the floor and yanked my dress down to follow it. “Where’s Theo-” I cried out as his hand tore into my hair, scattering pins as he wrenched me back to face him.  

  “It seems your husband can’t handle his wine, Mrs. Jones.”

In any other circumstances, I might have found it funny that once again the great Napoleon Solo had been easily incapacitated by another spiked drink, instead, my teeth chattered. “William,”  

  “Shhh, shhh, shhh.” His hand was still fisted in my hair as he lowered his forehead to mine, “Looking at you I think I do finally understand what drove Heathcliffe mad.” His teeth crushed against my lips as he forced his thick tongue inside my mouth.

Everything in this moment was predator verse prey and as the prey, I froze. William laughed amused as I screamed suddenly pinned underneath him on my back. Stars burst in my vision, as after successfully raking my nails down his face he struck me, hard and the back of my skull bounced against the floor.  

I fought to stay conscious, “Stop - stop – stop-”  

And then... he stopped.

Over-aroused by my terror Chisholm hadn’t heard the large blond Russian enter the room, he didn’t have time to feel the long blade slip deftly in between the back of his ribs. All he had time for was a wide-eyed stare a question on bloody lips as his head hit the carpet beside mine.  

Ilya ridiculously casual, rolled the dead man off of me, shucking his impossible shoulders out of his jacket and then dressing me in it.  

 “Ilya.”

He brushed the hair from my eyes watching where I pointed and gathering me in his arms, stooped to pick up the discarded purse before leaving the room. Exiting the mansion from a side door I soon found myself tucked inside the back of the Jaguar, large hands holding the sides of my face. “Gabby, look at me. You will wait here.”  

I shook my head at him. “Ilya,”

  “You will wait here and I will be back how Cowboy says, Lick it Spit.”

I didn’t have time to correct him, he was already gone.  

***

    “Gabby, stay awake.”  

Solo’s drawl sounded foggy in my ears.  

  “I’m sorry Gabby.”

I must be in shock, Napoleon never apologized.  

***

   “Gabby, wake up.” -  Ilya’s curt clip.

  “I suppose a thank you is in order.”  - Solo.

  “No.”

  “That's twice now you’ve saved my ass Kuryakin.”

  “Three times, if you count Istanbul.”

Solo chuckled beside me. “Well then, damn. I guess I really do love your work Peril.”

***

Too much to drink Ilya had told the concierge as he carried me through the lobby and knowing our room number and how often I requested room service for a ‘top up’ I guessed it was an easy sell.  

  “Ilya.”

His steely blue eyes were at my level as he knelt beside the bed and removed my shoes which after everything were still absurdly on my feet.  

  “I don’t want to talk Gaby.”  

He was angry. Very.  

  “Ilya.” I touched his cheek, “I’m sorry.”  

Unplanned, it had come out in a sob and unbelievably I watched the Russians eyes redden.  

“No, I’m sorry.” he croaked his accent even thicker than usual, “I should have been faster. I was too slow.”

Hot tears streamed down my face, he and I both knew he’d been just in time but I couldn’t form the words. I couldn’t reassure him that somehow my body had remained unmolested. I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat because it was so clear now. Clearer for me than it had ever been before.  

As soon as we had arrived at the mission, all I had wanted was to be safe in Ilya Kuryakin’s iron curtain embrace. Whenever I was scared or unsure, he called to me, like a lighthouse to a lost ship looking for port.

He was my church, my sanctuary. He was, home.  

It wasn’t practiced, it wasn’t restrained. I threw my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his. Fervently. Urgently.  

Months of unspoken sexual tension exploded, utterly engulfing us both and hands that I had witnessed committing the most violent of acts suddenly touched me like I was the most precious object in the world.  

Softly, tenderly Ilya worshiped all of me showing me wordlessly how much he cared and how much he loved.  

Crying out against each other's lips at the end, he crushed me to him, as if he wanted to take me inside his body and unable to resist, I kissed him, and kissed him and kissed him.

And kissed him.                                                                                                       

***                             

Sitting down to breakfast the next morning, Russian on my left, American to my right I stopped buttering my slice of toast as Alexander Waverly entered the dining room.  

The folded newspaper tucked under his arm looked larger than normal and following my gaze he sighed,  

  “Yes, well I suppose I can’t say it was a total disaster, considering.” he jostled the paper to make a point. “But killing the man wasn’t really necessary, was it?”  

Cutlery clanged onto the table from both the left and right of me and sensing his error in judgment Alexander took a quick step back. “Fine then,” he held up his free hand, “What's done is done, Lads.”  

Sighing Waverly looked down at us all, his ragtag group of ‘professionals’. “I guess you’ll be saying your goodbyes then Gaby?”

My left hand pressed quickly overtop Ilya’s to stop the sudden ticking fingers on his thigh, large pearl winking from the overhead lights,  

  “No Alexander. No, there won’t be any goodbyes.”                                                                                

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of DC: Week of October 9th, 2019

Best of this Week: The Joker: Year of the Villain One Shot - John Carpenter (yes, that John Carpenter), Anthony Burch, Philip Tan, Marc Deering, Danny Miki, Jonathan Glapion, Jay David Ramos and Gabriela Downie

John Carpenter understands horror. 

Helming the incredible Halloween franchise, the remakes of The Thing and a slew of iconic (and absolutely godawful) movies, Carpenter helped lend his skill to yet another psychopath in the form of the Joker in his comic debut and it is unsettling. While the rest of the Year of the Villain One-Shots have followed a particular villain and what Lex Luthor had to offer them, this book takes an entirely different route and chooses to focus on one of the Joker's henchman while he and his boss tear through Gotham after another recent breakout from Arkham Asylum. 

He admires the Joker for his supposed freedom, the wackiness he displays by being open and free with his crazy and how unapologetic he is. Philip Tan shows this by drawing Six or "Of" as Joker refers to him, with this glazed over look of wonder as Joker blows up the other 51 henchman because they didn't break him out. Watching Six's face appear as if it's being pulled into the explosion gives the idea that all of the anarchy is drawing him in. He doesn't fear Joker, he's willing to follow him through anything.

Referring to himself only as Six of Hearts, this mostly somber tale sees the man examine his own mental illness through the lens of freedom while saddling alongside the Joker as they attempt to "stomp out crime" in Gotham City. Initially, he sees his illness as something that he needs to hide or repress since he is unable to get a grasp on whether whether his world is real or if everything is in his head.

Joker doesn't take notice of the kid until he randomly speaks up as the Clown Prince is dumping Scarecrow's fear gas into the Gotham River. He asks Six of Hearts to drive him somewhere and puts a gun to the henchman's head once boredom creeps in, ordering him to say something fun. We're then treated to Six of Heart's backstory of abuse for his mental illness. Gabriela Downie does an excellent job of using letters in the place of traditional borders for this scene, each border reading "Ha," for Joker's maddening laugh.

Joker appears sated and removes the gun from Six of Hearts face and smiles, calling his tale fun. The two then stop at a gas station and encounter Condiment King. The...F-List villain attempts to rob Six, using a flurry of sauce based pins before Joker emerges from one of the aisles to put the fear of God into the villain. Putting his arm around Condiment King's shoulder, grabbing the mustard gun and putting it directly against his head as he blubbers and cries, he fires and nearly drowns Condiment King in mustard. Joker's face is absolutely terrifying, shrouded in shadow with only his real eyes and red mouth, he appears far more demonic and scary than normal. His teeth are a gross yellow, making him appear gross as well. Tan does a great job of selling the fear and danger of the Joker with Condiment King's face being absolutely great with tears and snot coming from every orifice.

With justice dispensed, Joker finds his "true" calling and makes Six don a Robin costume with himself in a Batman costume as the two then go out and fight crime. In the same way that Batman Odyssey was insane, this part of the book pulls no punches either, with mad grins from the Joker, ill fitting costumes on both men and absurd over the top violence. A man and his dog are just walking on the street when Robin Six accuses him of some sort of crime before letting him go after seeing his innocence. Just as he's about to walk away, Joker shoots him, saying he's got a gun, then shoots the dog saying the same thing before planting the gun on the dog. 

The scene is horrible and we see Sox's father beating him, asking if it would kill him to be normal for two seconds before cutting to Six of Hearts holding a bloody skillet over the battered head of his father as his mother cries after trying to calm him from the beating. It's a devastating scene that shows how the misunderstanding of mental illness can lead to needless violence.

This scene felt terrifying. Coated in a slight red tint, we see the true madness from the Joker as he's been listening to every word Six had said, knowing that he knew what he was doing all along. Six of Hearts realizes that Joker's been done the entire time and that he's not like his former idol at all and he attacks him in a rage. He somehow gets the upper hand before Joker puts the Batmask on Six and croaks "harder" as Six of Hearts chokes him to death. This catches the boy off guard and Joker sees the opportunity to beat him half to death with a crowbar before sauntering off.

The faces and the colors make for an absolutely great experience as we're able to watch Six of Hearts explode with rage, Deering, Miki and Glapion's various inks showcasing the darkness of the scene. Joker's evil is palpable with all of this darkness. Jay David Ramos' dark, but intense colors set an amazing tone for the somehow warm feeling that we're supposed to get from this scene. Six of Heart earns something of a clarity, realizing that while the Joker doesn't care about him, his mother still does and he loves her. As long as he was able to protect her and do something good with his life, then everything was worth it.

I audibly laughed at how ridiculous it was. It was so sudden and so random that I couldn't contain it and the rest of the book continued that way. This is when the cracks began to show and Six slowly realized that Joker might not be all that he seemed. After an incident with Enchantress and Joker almost shooting a server in the face while commenting about Sox's mother from earlier, Six gets terrified and tries to run from Joker. He returns home only to find Joker in his Bat costume holding a knife to his mother's throat.

I don't know how much Anthony Burch had to carry the script for this issue, but I can definitely see Carpenter's influence heavy in the book. Joker is amazingly terrifying and well directed and Six of Hearts is an excellent stand in for the general reader. This story was fantastic and in an event where Doom is the ultimate goal, it's nice to get a little bit of hope.

Philip Tan's art and the rest of the creative team from the various inkers to Jay David Ramos on colors were fantastic. Joker looks like an absolute maniac and the colors are so full and beautiful.  The inks are appreciably dark to match an equally dark character and the story therein.

She embraces him and their broken relationship begins to mend itself unexpectedly. For an unbelievably dark and morbid story, this was amazingly sweet at the end.

I really, really want John Carpenter to do another book in much the same vein. Maybe Joe Hill and the rest of the Hill House imprint can have a place for him?