#notes!! okay so like. was going to draw all six queens but ran out of stamina. i have spent the day doing idk what and my eyes kinda hurt

[averlym]

hi, i see you are on hiatus, but thought at some point you might like to hear that january 28th is henry’s deathday ~ holiday anon

another one bites the dust (haha because you hoover dust)

[damerondala]

Suture Up Your Future

i was watching reservoir dogs last night and that scene in the beginning with mr. orange is so intense i wanted to write some bad batch AnGst that mirrors it (and yes, the title is a queens of the stone age song, im really just snatching ideas from everybody huh lol). im also not too knowledgeable about trauma wounds like this and how to patch them up, but i did my best so pls be nice lmao im a sensitive bitch

Pairing: Platonic Bad Batch x Gender Neutral Reader / Platonic Tech x Gender Neutral Reader 

Warnings: adult dialogue, severe wounds and blood loss, wound suturing, sad batch ™ but with a happy ending! yay! 

Word Count: approx. 1.4k 

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

“Say it for me, Tech.” You were met with an agonistic cry instead of the words you needed the trooper to say. Not only to reassure himself, but you as well. “Say it,” you nearly screamed while he lay there bleeding out, “You’re going to be okay, fucking say it. You’re going to be okay.” 

“I,” a sharp intake of breath made his chest heave and a new wave of fresh blood come out of his gaping wound, covering your hands in the warm substance, “‘m guh be oh-okay.” 

“There we go, come on Tech, come on buddy breathe for me.” 

~

Nothing was out of the ordinary when you woke up that day. Hunter asked if you wanted to stay on the Marauder while he, Tech, and Crosshair went on a supply run. Hunter sang his reassurances to you, fully knowing you had a point when you reminded him that this planet was not the most welcoming place for outsiders. Especially the army of the Republic. But Hunter made sure they had civilian clothing to disguise themselves; this was the closest planet you all could get to at the moment, with the little fuel you had, after all. “In and out, just like that,” the sergeant cooed with a snap of his fingers to enunciate the last word of his promise. 

Echo, Wrecker, and yourself gave your best wishes to the group, then retreated back to the hull of the beloved ship. Echo toying with a new prosthetic he and Tech had been working on, Wrecker subjecting poor Gonky to yet another workout, and you occupied yourself with some tidying up. Maker knows that five busy soldiers plus one even busier medic, patching up said soldiers on a regular basis, equaled a filthy ship that was in dire need of some elbow grease. 

What none of you had expected however, was the very early return of the three bad batchers, one of them being supported by the other two. Barely able to walk and blood leaking out of his abdomen. 

Panic set in your gut upon the sight. Wrecker and Echo already in front of you, screaming their concerns and questions while you scrambled back into the ship to clear the table that was littered with empty dishes and Tech’s projects, then sprinting to your medkit to snag the supplies you’d need to treat a wound such as this. Returning to the table just as Wrecker set his vod down on the flat surface that, might you add, was much too small for his six-four frame and much too dirty for the situation at hand, but would have to do. Considering the severity of the scene before you. Tech had an enormous gash — you guessed from some sort of large knife — that ran from the bottom of his left ribs all the way to the front of his abdomen, ending just above his bellybutton. 

“Fucking bounty hunters,” Crosshair growled from behind you but you couldn’t afford to pay him any mind, Tech was damn near about to bleed to death if you didn’t act quick. You could curse the people who did this to your friend later. “Echo, he’s going to need more blood. Get Wrecker hooked up to the blood draw.” You ordered while applying pressure to the gash, Tech’s blood slowing at the contact, but still steadily seeping through your fingers. Normally Wrecker would pout about being hooked up to a machine but the sight of his friend dancing with death made him move quicker than any of you had ever seen, ripping his shirt sleeve up so Echo could begin drawing blood. 

The scene felt like a dream. Well, more like a nightmare, one that never stopped no matter how badly you wished you could just wake up and it would all be over. Instead, you were sweating through your shirt, a few tears stained your cheeks, and you were fucking covered in blood; Tech’s blood, to make the matter even more chilling. Everything happened so fast, you desperately wished you had gone on the run instead of Tech. Maybe that way you could all be sitting around this table, playing cards and giggling at Echo and Wrecker’s bickering over who’s cheating by now. 

“What do you need me to do?” Hunter stepped to your side, prepared to do anything in order to save the youngest of the squad. “Get the gauze and alcohol out of my pack.” You threw your head in the direction of the stocked medpack sitting on the table near Tech’s legs. Hunter opened the bottle of antiseptic and handed it to you, Crosshair on the other side of the table taking the gauze from Hunter’s hand. Ready to stuff the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding more until you could properly suture him up. Dumping the alcohol inside the gash caused Tech to gasp, eyebrows furrowing and body going taut at the pain you inflicted on him. You pleaded with him to relax and help you in reassuring himself that he would be fine. Both you and Hunter continuing the verbal comfort while Crosshair unraveled the pristine white gauze and began shoving it into Tech’s side, dying it crimson almost immediately. The pressure from both yours and Crosshair’s hands did a good job at stopping the blood loss, just enough so you could begin really cleaning him up and sewing his abdomen back together. Hunter helped with handing you the needle and thread and you began puncturing Tech’s skin and pulling the thread through the tissue. 

Cries and mumbles of curses came from Tech’s lips, his face paler than any of you had ever seen before. “Shhh…eh..it,” Tech groaned as you diligently worked at his stomach. You silently thanked whatever celestial  power that was out there for slowing down the blood flow to a much more manageable pace. Crosshair’s efforts clearly paid off, you mentally noted, as you watched his steady marksman hands slowly remove the gauze while you advanced with your stitching. 

“Blood transfusion is ready,” Echo suddenly appeared, ready to start replenishing the blood Tech had lost. “Just in time,” you managed a half-smile, not entirely sure of where it came from. But looking back, you think it was out of hope. 

Tech’s glazed eyes silently caught the way your mouth curled up and he was infinitely grateful for it. To him — and the other members of the squad — you were a beacon of light in the cruel and unforgiving war you all were in the midst of. It was easy to let the darkness and the violence consume them, but the second you joined their squad as their senior medic, there was that sudden sense of hope; you were something that made all of it even more worth it. 

The entire procedure of fixing up your friend honestly was a blur for the most part. One second they were dragging Tech’s limp and bloody body up the ramp, the next you all found yourselves slumped into chairs, over crates, hell, you were nearly passed out from exhaustion on the floor next to the table Tech was splayed out on. His wound clean and stitched to near perfection, and Wrecker’s blood slowly being pumped back into his veins, bringing that beautiful, healthy tan back to his features. 

Being so tired led you to neglect the dried blood all over your arms and shirt. In your haze, you remember Wrecker gently grasping your biceps and heaving you off the grimy ground, urging you to wash up and change. When you began to protest, the gentle giant rubbed up and down your arms in an effort to persuade you, “He’ll be fine, kid. You stitched him up real good. Plus, you know how queasy he gets with blood. He’d want you to get cleaned up.” Just as the final syllable left his mouth, you felt the soft cotton of your extra shirt being brushed against your forearm, Crosshair’s arm extended to you from his place on a ration crate with a nod in your direction. A silent way of showing you he agreed with his older brother — we got him, don’t worry. 

Your squad member’s wisdom proved to be true. Stepping out of the fresher in a new shirt sans sweat stains and blood, and your skin nice and clean, you were greeted with the sight of everybody crowding around their youngest vod still laying on the table. Weaseling your way in between Hunter and Echo, you found Tech awake. Albeit less sharp than he usually is, but still awake. Breathing. Fucking alive. The weight of dread that had been crushing your chest was suddenly gone, letting your lungs fully expand for the first time in hours. A soft hand found Tech’s cheek, the tips of your fingers accidentally bumping the edge of his goggles and another smile gracing your face, this one out of relief. 

“Told you you’d be okay.” 

[saltymiraculer]

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 1 of 3)

Part 2

So I decided to try my hand at the “Marinette, the princess of China” trope and see how I did! Tell me what you think?

Also, the first chapter is going to be fluffy, the second chapter’ll have a sprinkling of salt, and the third chapter will be a mix of piles and piles of salt and some fluff. Be warned!

.

“I’ve got a big, big, big announcement for you today, class!“ Bustier chirped, clapping her hands to get their attention. “China’s princess will be coronated in a week and a half, the day she turns 18, as many of you know, and one class from the school will be selected to travel to China and watch the ceremony. Guess which class it was?“

“Uhhh…Mme. Mendeleiev’s!“

“Ooh, M. D’Argencourt’s? They’ve wanted that trip for weeks!“

“No, class, it’s ours! In three days, we’ll board the plane to Asia and have a few days to sightsee and explore, then attend the coronation on the second-to-last day!“

“Wow! Why our class?“ Kim asked.

Marinette knew exactly why. Marc had told her that the entire school was sick of Lila’s lies and wanted to enjoy the coronation without her butting in in the middle of the assembly to tell a ‘story’ about herself.

But she couldn’t just say that.

“You know, I actually know the princess,“ Lila said, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “But her identity is being kept a secret for now. That’s how we landed the trip!“

“Wow, Lila!“

“That’s amazing!“

“So cool of you.“

“They know that’s stupid, right?“ Alya stage-whispered, earning a glare from Lila’s new puppy–more commonly known as Kim. She shrugged. “I’m just tellin’ the truth!“

Alya, who was now her only other supporter next to Nino (and technically Adrien, but she’d discuss that later–it was very complicated), had decided to Google Lila’s name during a sleepover and found…some rather incriminating Facebook posts.

After that, she was 100% team Marinette and an amazing friend, along with Nino, who had decided that he needed a theme song. No one knew why.

But they loved him anyways!

So while Bustier was rattling off facts about Chinese emperors and kings and queens, Nino was showing them his latest idea to expose Lila.

“Okay,“ he started. “First, we go to China. Then we do our sightseeing and shit, and then. I did some research, and we can ask the princess questions if we’re with a national news channel. Alya’s blog counts. For real, we can talk to the princess of China. And we ask her if she knows Lila.“

“Brilliant plan, Nino. I wonder how the princess will react to a few teenagers in the middle of a crowd of famous people.“

Nino frowned. “The princess is only, like, 17. She’ll probably notice us, Als.”

“Oh, that reminds me, your birthday’s on the same day as the coronation, Marinette! Weird, isn’t it? That you and the princess have the same birthday?“ Alya asked, pulling out her phone and swiping through something.

“Huh, yeah. You’re right. Maybe we can invite her to my birthday party?“

“Ooh, the wiki page says she likes custard buns, and I’m not sure how they know that,“ Nino chuckled. “but make sure to stock up on those.“

“Noted,“ Marinette said drily as Bustier turned to them with a condemning look on her face. “Alya! I hope what you’re doing on that phone relates to the lesson!“

“China’s princess’s identity is being kept a secret because the last two were sent death threats, dangerous items, highly innapropriate items, and several other things that prompted them to not reveal the princess until it was necessary.“

“C-correct, Alya. Good job.“

“Nice!“ Marinette mouthed, high-fiving Alya, who flipped her phone around to reveal a website about the princess.

                                                           -🌸-

The final bell rang as several of the students cheered. One school day until the trip over, three more to go. Alya swung her bag over her shoulder and bumped Marinette’s elbow. “We goin’ to your place to hang out?”

“Yeah, my dad’s out anyways and mom closed the bakery for the afternoon. let’s go!“ Alya took Nino’s hand and walked the short distance to Marinette’s house. They entered and immediately felt something off.

Ah, there it was.

Sabine was leaning over the counter with a cup of very strong-smelling peppermint tea beside her. She was rubbing her temples and muttering to herself in rapid Mandarin.

“Maman? Are you alright?“ Marinette asked worriedly. Alya and Nino stood by the door–they had only seen her like this once before, when her cousin had been run over and killed.

“Yes, dear, everything’s okay, it’s just–there’s something I need to tell you.“

“Oh, no, did something happen to someone?“

“No, no, everyone’s just fine. I can’t not tell you without there being serious problems.“

“So what is it? What’s so important you had to close the bakery?“

“You’re the princess. China’s princess. The one nobody knows about.“

“I’m what?!“ Marinette screeched, grabbing at her hair. “I’m the heir to the throne of the most populated country in the world, and you waited until a week before the coronation to tell me?!“

“Holy shit.“ Alya and Nino said simultaneously. Sabine stared at them, likely just realizing they were there.

“Oh. They know now, too. Perfect, that’s just what we need, a reporter knowing who–“

“Maman! Alya wouldn’t tell a soul, I know she wouldn’t.“

Sabine turned to Alya. “I’m sorry, dear, I’m just stressed. With that trip to China in a few days and all that, we’ll have to close down the bakery for about a week.”

“And we never close down the bakery.“ Marinette finished, putting a steady hand on her mom’s shoulder. “But I know just the person to run it while we’re gone.“

As she was about to say who exactly would run the bakery, Nino backed into the door, wide-eyed.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. My best friend…holy shit.“

“Nino, I know this is a lot, but we’ll have to stay calm,“ Alya said, grabbing his hand. “So we don’t spill her secret. That’s top priority, all right? Don’t–tell–anyone.“

Nino sighed. “Sorry, babe. This…“ he turned to Marinette. “Do you have any cookies?“

Marinette grinned and led them into the kitchen. “Of course! Chocolate chunk or raspberry frosted?“

“Raspberry, all the way!“

“There’s the Nino I know!“

After a quick cookie interval, Marinette pushed her plate away and sighed. “Anyone up for an impromptu sleepover? You all left a bunch of your clothes here the last few times.”

“Marinette. If you know us, you will know our answers.“ Alya said solemnly.

“Hell yeah. Wanna go choose which terrible rom-com to watch this time?“

They ended up settling on The Kissing Booth, one of Marinette’s personal favorites (”To lighten the tension, you know?” Alya had said. “Although the tension in here probably weighs the same as an obese hippopotamus at this point.”) and made a bowl of caramel popcorn, with a tiny bag of sea-salt Skinny Pop for Nino.

“Sugar on popcorn is a crime, man. I ain’t touching that.“

“You’ve tried it once, Nino.“

“Yes, and I hated it. Is there anything else to be said?“

So they spent the next two hours in a blanket fort that was made almost entirely of throw pillows laughing over Elle and Noah and Lee being idiots, with a few highlights such as the iconic “Ninth grade skirt, eleventh grade body” scene, where Alya snorted and said “You know, Lila’s skipped so much school, might as well be ninth grade brain, eleventh grade work.”

“Too true,“ Nino agreed. “The other day, she called Chloe’s mom Aurora Bourgeois. That was a pretty major mess-up.”

“Shhh! Let’s just watch the movie!“ Marinette said, effectively quieting them down.

They watched the rest in silence with the usual laughs., ending up falling asleep halfway through the second movie, snuggled up on their respective couches. Marinette mother shook them awake the next morning, telling them to take showers and eat breakfast and get dressed and for god’s sake, Marinette, finish your homework.

“Crap, crap, crapcrapcrap! Nino, we’re going to be late if we don’t get ready fast!“ Alya shouted as Marinette ran up the stairs to change. “Can I use your shower, M?“

“Sure!“ was the muffled reply.

After about 10 minutes of running around and shoving waffles in their mouths, they grabbed their bags and ran off to school.

They burst through the door in the nick of time, the bell ringing just as they plunked down their things.

Bustier wasn’t there five minutes into the class, so they started talking.

“Marinette, you have to listen to Nino’s latest track, it’s–“ Just as she was about to describe Nino’s latest track, a bouncy-ball the size of a walrus snashed through the wall, nearly taking off Kim’s head.

There was a cackle from outside. “I am Gradack! You will all feel the same sorrow that I did!“

                                                          -🌸-

The fight was over relatively fast, and everything was calmed down and restored before their next class. Turns out Chat Noir didn’t show, so Marinette had to ask Alya for assistance.

In hindsight, she probably should have picked a better place to transform.

“Tikki, spots on!“ After she transformed, she was about to go to Fu to get one of the Miraculous, when she heard a strangled gasp.

“…shit.“

“My best friend is the princess of goddamn China and Ladybug? What the fuck?! Who are you? How did I not know? When did–“

“Alya, I know the feeling, but you can’t tell anyone. Got it?“

“Nino?“

“Well,“ Marinette paused to think. “Yeah, I guess. I trust him enough. Now, take this and transform!“ she tossed Alya the hexagonal box, and after a quick transformation, they ran off to defeat the saddened graduate of an akuma.

As she said, it was an easy fight.

They comforted the victim with four minutes (each) to spare, then ran back to the locker rooms to transform back.

                                                   Time Skip!

It was the morning of the flight to China, and she was ecstatic. Of course, she had to get up at 3:45 in the morning, but it was worth it–the flight took off at six in the morning, of course.

She could see the logic of wanting to arrive at 12:00, but she would’ve much preferred a red-eye.

Then she wouldn’t have had to stay up all night reading, because no way in hell would she just wake up at 3:45 in the morning.

The alarm would’ve had to go off for hours.

But back to the morning, she poured herself a sasquatch-sized mug of coffee, with about a gallon of cream and enough sugar to put an entire city of diabetics into shock, she started getting dressed.

Trudging around and haphazardly pulling out shirts, she finally decided on a simple red-and-orange flannel, a white t-shirt, and a pair of cropped jeans.

The she downed the rest of her coffee with an apathetic “Bottoms up!” and slapped her cheeks.

She grapped her suitcase and walked outside to where her mother was typing away on a laptop in the pitch-black night.

“Mom, why are you up?“

“Because I have to drive you to the airport, that’s why. And no alarm would be able to wake me up at 3 in the morning.“

“Preach. I’m ready to go, so can we get in the car now?“

After driving to the airport and saying goodbye to her mom, she walked into the airport and immediately saw the group of sleepy teens (and a certain disheveled teacher) leaning on their suitcases, trying not to fall asleep.

Nino and Marinette were already there, their eyelids drooping. The only person who looked properly awake was Sabrina, who was–inevitably–holding a saucer out to Chloé, who was sipping from a teacup.

Alya rolled her eyes and walked over to Marinette and Nino. “Who’re we missing?”

“Kim and Rose. They’re carpooling, so they should be here any minute.“

Just as Marinette had said, a few seconds later, Rose and Kim walked into the airport. Kim was still wearing pajama pants.

                                           Another Time Skip!

“Marinette.“ Alya groaned, shaking Marinette’s shoulders. “Marinette, wake up, we’re here.“

Marinette’s eyes fluttered open. “No. Five more minutes.”

“Everyone else is already off the plane!“

“Shit. Let’s go!“ Marinette said, jumping up, grabbing her purse (which she had recently learned concealed a kwami) and scrambling out the door.

Alya picked up the mini-backpack she now carried (which held Trixx, cookies, and some grape jelly) and followed her out the door.

Almost as soon as they stepped off the plane, they heard a loud wail.

“Great. She’s back on her bullshit.“

“I just can’t believe she would steal that, Lila! It’s so unlike her!“

“M-maybe, but there’s p-proof! Look!“

“Oh, great, what did we do this time?“ Alya asked exasperatedly. They watched as Lila held out the remains of–from what they could see from a meter away–a sketch of an orange mermaid gown with a black lace collar, ripped into quarters and laid out on the ground.

Marinette gasped beside her.

“That’s your dress, isn’t it?“

A small tear made its way down Marinette’s face. “It was going to be for you,” she said softly.

Alya threw her arms around Marinette and rubbed her shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetie. Once you’re princess, we’ll sue her for all she’s worth.”

Marinette detached herself from Alya and wiped her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Alya.”

                                                         -🌸-

Nino stormed up to where Alya and Marinette were standing with a furious expression on his face.

“That fox,“ he seethed. “that bitchy little fox of a liar stole your drawing.“

Marinette chuckled wetly. “Yeah, we know.“

“Are you okay? I know how important they are to you.“

“I’m fine, Nino, and o–who the hell are you?“ A man in an oddly formal suit was standing next to her, holding out a small red envelope.

Marinette plucked the envelope from his fingers, opened it, and read the contents. She looked up and nodded at the suit-wearing guy.

“Good. In that case, Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m going to need you to come with me.“ Alya and Nino immediately stepped in front of her in a protective shield.

“She’s not in trouble, is she?“

The strange man looked surprisingly amused. “Not at all–but you might want to come with us, too. You as well, headphone-boy.”

Nino put a hand on his chest and gasped in offense.

“Nino. He’s going to drive us to the palace. You’re coming, too, ya doof!“ Nino made a noise of realization and followed them out to where a black limousine was waiting.

They climbed in and drove off.

About five minutes into the drive, he moved his foot to the side, accidentally kicking a black box.

Just as he was preparing his final goodbyes, it sprung open, and inside was a junk food lover’s heaven.

“Dude.“

[alottanothing]

Left to Ruin: Chapter Two

Summary: The young prince meets a servant girl called Nouke. The two become best friends, spending many days in the West Garden. As Ahkmenrah grows older, he learns that he must sacrifice his time with his friend to learn the lessons his father has to teach him. Responsibilities shift and Ahk and Nouke’s friendship is tested.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 5939   

Warnings: none      

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe​, @r-ahh-mi​, @theultraviolencefan​, @hah0106​, @rami-malek-trash​, @diasimar​, @sherlollydramoine​, @flipper-kisses​, @ivy-miranda-2390​, @txmel​, @sunkissedmikky​, @concentratedsassandcandy​, @babyalienfairy​ (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: I’m so SO glad y’all are enjoying this so far! Thanks a million for the likes, the reblogs, the comments and the gif responses! They make me smile!! 🥰 Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

In the westernmost part of the palace was a garden, small in comparison to the grand courtyards were the king and queen hosted festivals throughout the year, but lusher and inherently more magical by far. On every side, the green paradise was surrounded by sturdy walls of sand-colored stone, apart from the open corridor that led back into the palace. The majority of those protective walls sat hidden by abundant foliage; lilies and shrubs and trees that fostered the illusion of no barriers at all.

At the center of the garden was a fountain with wide ledges perfect to sit and marvel at the prisms that danced across the surface of the water where lily pads floated. The air was always fragrant. Jasmine and lotus bloomed in abundance; their sweet perfume coupled with the fresh air created a welcomed reprieve from the scent of torch fire and papyrus that permeated the palace corridors. Beds of grass grew between the footstones and pathways while large palm trees sprung from the earth; their fanned leaves offering shade for the hottest afternoons. Within those walls, amid the green and vibrant blossoms, Shepseheret watched each of her children grow and play for many years.

That glittering, private oasis- nestled in a palace of gold, was Ahkmenrah’s favorite place in the world. Fore in that garden everything was soft and whimsical unlike the stone walls he called home. And in the shining green gem of a garden, the young prince met Anuksamun.

She was his age, with long wavy hair and skin a tone or two darker than his own. Her eyes were brown, but they sparkled like amber in the sunlight--not that Ahkmenrah paid much attention to such things at the age of six. It wasn't for many years that those flakes of gold would make his heart flutter.

Anuksamun was the daughter of Maketaten: the queen’s maidservant and dear friend. Her father, Ramentukah was a soldier in the pharaoh’s army. The three of them lived humbly in the palace with many of the other servants--happy for the shelter the king and queen provided in return for their service and loyalty. It never occurred to Ahkmenrah that he was (as some would claim) better than his friend; all he knew was that she loved the West Garden just as much as he did.

Every evening, Ahkmenrah would gleefully follow his mother and baby sister to the garden, excited to see his friend. The queen and her maidservant would lounge in one of the patches of grass or on the edge of the fountain watching their children play; ducking in and out of the foliage or splashing in the cool waters of the central pool when the desert heat was significantly stifling.

Ahkmenrah never felt like a prince when he was chasing after his friend, giggling as the fresh air swept through his curls as he ran. She only ever called him “Ahk”; never once did she speak of him with the title of “my prince” like so many others. He loved that shortened version of his name. Every time she called for him; it made him smile, and in return, he called her Nouke--a name that found her smiling back at him just as widely.

While the sun was high overhead, Ahkmenrah was with his father, learning what it meant to rule a vast empire. Those mornings and afternoons never lent the same joy he found in the evenings with Nouke in the garden. Nevertheless, the prince cherished the teachings his father gifted unto him. He felt a sense of pride when he stood at his father’s side during civil meetings in the throne room and council meetings. Every aspect was enthralling for his young mind.

The older Ahkmenrah grew, the more he understood and admired the way his father ruled. Merenkahre was firm when he had to be but often kind when the circumstances could warrant gentleness. The respect he bestowed upon his subjects and advisors never went unreciprocated, and Ahkmenrah noted it all; filing it away safely in his mind, so he could remember in the future. He yearned to show the same devotion and compassion to the people of Egypt when it was his turn to wear the crown. The prince learned quickly and eagerly.

No matter how old he grew, or how long his lessons would take, Ahkmenrah would always return to the West Garden. The moment his father’s teaching would come to a close, the prince would thank him for his wisdom and guidance then run through the halls until he was encompassed in the magic of the lush green, and reunited with his favorite person in all the palace.

Since meeting Nouke, Ahkmenrah always missed her. Her spirit matched his own: that unwavering need for adventure. Nouke was warm like the sun but always changing like the moon; she constantly kept him guessing, and it thrilled him. Every game was her idea, and Ahkmenrah never failed to follow her lead- whatever it may be. The whole of his childhood was written within the limits of that garden, and when he was with Nouke, he wasn’t a prince of Egypt--shackled from birth to his duty. He was just Ahk; no more, no less.

For six years that was the routine Ahkmenrah was used to: days with his father and evenings with his friend. However, as they got older, a piece of him came to realize that before long, their adventures in the serenity of the garden would come to an end. By the time he was twelve, most of his lessons ate into the hours the prince was used to spending with Nouke. It made him sad to think of her alone in their garden with no one to keep her company, but a large part of him understood how important it was to learn his father’s trade. He could only hope that she understood too.

It was exceptionally hot the afternoon Ahkmenrah followed his father out of the palace and into the training yards located on the grounds. He’d often heard his brother speak of the open field where the pharaoh’s soldiers trained along with the Medjay. It was a new sight and Ahkmenrah’s hunger for adventure lent him attentive eyes. Men and boys, most around his age, were practicing with all manners of weapons; spears, bows, and the khopesh. Ahkmenrah watched them all, wondering why his father had brought him to such a place.

“Three times a week, we will be meeting here so that you may learn to defend yourself,” his father noted as though he had heard his son’s thoughts.

Merenkahre stopped a good distance away from the other sparing soldiers and turned to face his son. Kamuzu stood at his side, holding the same stoic expression that Ahkmenrah could never really make heads or tails of. The Medjay deftly removed the khopesh from its place on his hip and offered it wordlessly to the prince. Ahkmenrah’s brows furrowed and he blinked at the curved blade apprehensively, confused as to how this lesson applied to being king.

“Take it,” his father encouraged, easily drawing his own matching weapon. “Test its weight.”

Ahkmenrah bit his lip, eyeing the khopesh wearily a moment more before obeying. A gasp escaped his lungs in mild shock when the heavy weapon fell from his hands, and into the dirt--it was much heavier than he had thought. Quickly, he retrieved the blade and held it with a firm, two-handed grip, looking sheepishly back to his father. The ghost of a smile played around Merenkahre’s lips, which put Ahkmenrah more at ease.

“Test its weight,” he said again, slowly gliding his own blade through the air with one hand.

Ahkmenrah mimicked the movements as best he could; the weapons cumbersome weight almost too difficult for him to manage properly.

“Very good,” Merenkahre grinned.

“Am I going to learn everything as Kahmunrah has?” Ahkmenrah asked, suddenly more interested to learn.

His older brother only liked weapons and fighting; he found no beauty in gardens or shared the young princes' sense of adventure. Thus, Ahkmenrah knew; Kah never wanted to be the big brother he wanted. But if he learned to fight, maybe he would like him more--the prince hoped so anyway.

A slight frown tinted the pharaoh’s expression, but he quickly hid it. “To a degree, I will teach you bow and spear and khopesh until you are comfortable enough with each.”

“Oh,” Ahk said, slightly disappointed. Kah only liked people who were as skilled as he was. “Okay.”

Ahkmenrah followed his father’s guidance, swinging the blade how he was instructed in repetitive motions, each one faster than the last until the weapon no longer felt so clumsy in his hands.

It was weeks before he was truly at ease with any kind of weapon in his hand. Still, he knew he would never harbor the same joy his brother seemed to when it came to such things.

“Am I going to learn how to strategize war next?” Ahkmenrah asked idly after a long day in the training yard.

His muscles ached as he walked back to the palace alongside his father and Kamuzu. Merenkahre didn’t answer right away, taking his time to think as his features grew pensive, causing Ahkmenrah to wonder what it was about his question that warranted such careful study.

“Your Consul of Montu will be responsible for such dealings,” Merenkahre decided, finally. “You must trust his word, should a time ever come that you need such knowledge."

That made sense, but Ahkmenrah pressed anyway, “but didn’t you know how to--”

“I learned because my father needed men to fight in wars he wanted no part of,” Meren explained sternly. “Do you plan to seek out war during your reign?”

Ahkmenrah shook his head, folding under his father’s unusually intense gaze, “No.”

“Then what you have learned will suffice,” the pharaoh’s expression lightened as they neared the palace. “We are done for today. Your mother tells me you are missing a friend of yours--go.”

Ahkmenrah’s face lit up, all previous thought of war and fighting long behind him. He quickly thanked his father and took off running.

The sun had only begun to sink into the distant horizon when Ahkmenrah made it to his favorite garden. He'd only stopped on his journey long enough to scrounge up a snack that he could share. As a servant, Nouke and her family were given small rations and often went hungry--a thought the prince hated. It only took her offhandedly mentioning she’d gone without one day for Ahkmenrah to make a habit of bringing something from his own, abundant supply. She had refused the first time, too proud it seemed to want his help; it was only when he offered to share that Nouke would accept his offerings. He would purposely eat slower, letting her take as much as she needed, and he would smile; happy to have helped his friend.

Nouke sat on the edge of the shallow pool; her dark hair pulled into a loose braid- the slightly darker tan pigment of her skin glowing in Ra’ s golden rays. Her face was turned away, eyes fixated on the lily pad she glided over the water's surface in absent motions. Even from a distance, and without the benefit of seeing her face, Ahkmenrah could tell a sadness had taken root in her. Something even the magic of their treasured garden could not properly deter. How long had it been since he had seen her? Days? Weeks? Much too long.

Her somber aura shifted however when Nouke caught sight of him with an idle glance. A gasp sounded on a quick inhale when her eyes met his--the lily pad forgotten. All of the gloom that had been constricting her spirit no longer bound her. She dazzled him with a smile that matched the sparkle in her eyes, and when she ran to greet him, she did so on fumbling feet, excitement quickening her gait to nearly a fault. Catching the blunder painted a grin onto the prince's lips as his pace hastened too, eager to be near her.

“Ahk!” Nouke’s honey-sweet tone was like a song to his ears after weeks of nothing but his father’s gruff voice in his head. 

The sound alone was enough to pull his smile tighter and prompt his heart to beat more fervently (for whatever reason). Unceremoniously, she threw her arms around his shoulders, enveloping him with a friendly embrace, with sufficient force to almost send Ahkmenrah stumbling backward.

“I thought maybe you’d forgotten me.”

“Never,” he assured her, returning her hug with just as much warmth.

She was smiling even brighter than before when they pulled apart, her eyes meeting his gladly.

“Sorry I’ve been away so long,” Ahk said, brandishing a peace offering: a linen-wrapped bundle of fresh dates and figs to share.

She glanced at the proffered fruit, then back to him with silent rejoice before tugging him by the arm across the garden to one of the shady patches of grass. She gave his arm another yank, tugging him down to sit beside her.  The cool patch of grass was a welcome contrast to the hours he spent under the sun in the training yard. He sat with his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands relishing in the soft textures and the company of his friend. Nouke waited patiently for him to pass her a portion of the food he had brought--like usual--and together they ate in content silence.

“I missed you,” Nouke said suddenly, in a rather sheepish tone that was unbefitting of her usual ebullient demeanor.

When the prince chanced to meet her gaze, he found she had spoken more to her food than to him, still, he smiled. He was so used to her exuberance, but he liked this timorous side of her as well.

“I missed you too,” Ahk said, sliding her the last two dates.

He could have eaten them easily, having worked up an apatite swinging a blade around the better part of an afternoon, but he had the luxury of ample meals whenever he called for one, unlike her.

The shy exterior melted into the lively attitude he was accustomed to, which had always lent a fullness inside of him that he couldn’t quite place. Nouke was the only person he knew to incite such a feeling.

“What is it your father’s been teaching you?” she asked, noshing on the last piece of fruit.

A tiny frown worked onto Ahk’s features, the shift in the curve of his mouth enough to elicit a slight ache in the muscles of his face. Nouke had always been curious about his lessons, and usually, he was happy to tell her the wisdom his father offered. However, after so much time away, Ahk didn’t want to discuss topics that had been pounded into his brain since he was six.

Ahkmenrah pulled absently at the green blades, and bit his bottom lip as he shrugged, “A lot of the same……just more.”

He sighed and when he caught her thin frown, he mustered a smile for her benefit, not wanting to burden her with his own troubles. It wasn’t right for him to complain, especially to her.

“He has been teaching me how to fight like Kahmunrah.”

“Oh?” she frowned, more out of wariness than sadness, but only briefly. “That must be fun. Is your brother helping?”

Ahk shook his head, “No.”

When he told his big brother that he was learning to fight, Ahkmenrah hoped it would spark some sort of kinship between them--a shared interest. Even a hint of intrigue would have been something. Instead, Kah had scoffed and pushed him out of his way. He didn’t understand why his brother treated him so.

“Sometimes I wish my father would make Kahmunrah pharaoh instead of me.”

Nouke glanced at him, surprise pressing a furrow onto her brow, “Why?”

Ahk shrugged, “I don’t want to spend my whole life in a palace. Kah isn’t going to be pharaoh, and he has traveled and seen so many places. I want to see them too.”

Nouke grew quiet, and he watched her thoughts manifest in waves of her pensive expressions, until a smile steadily unfurled across her features. Ahk smiled too, a reflex reaction to seeing her face light up with restored spirit.

“I think I know a way you can have a little adventure,” she told him before he could ask what had prompted her grin.

When she didn’t impart more of an explanation, intrigue contorted the prince’s face, his question written in the hook of his brow. Without a word, she tugged him off the cushion of grass and to his feet; he barely had time to find his footing before she was yanking him deeper into the garden. Ahkmenrah knew better than to ask where it was she was taking him; he followed her lead and reveled in the surge of thrill the mystery brought.

Nouke led him to the westernmost edges of the garden, skillfully cutting through the dense foliage that hid the towering wall until they were in the small space between the green brush and sand-colored stones. She stood for a moment, her hand still gripping his as she studied the bricks carefully.

“Nouke?” the prince asked, his eyes bouncing between her and the wall, then back to her.

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she surrendered his grasp and began pushing gently on individual stones, causing Ahk’s confusion to grow. He was about to ask her again when one of the bricks fell loose to the other side with a quiet thud.

“Found it!” Nouke beamed proudly.

Ahk’s mouth hung agape in awe, blinking as she pushed more of the bricks free until the breach was large enough to crawl through.

“How…?” 

“I had a lot of time to explore when you stopped visiting,” she explained with a shrug.

Ahk frowned, “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Now are you gonna follow me on an adventure or stay in these walls?”

She was already climbing through the opening with ease as she spoke. The prince bit his lip as he smiled and nodded. His heart was pounding and his whole body tingled with excitement; of course, he was going to follow his friend on an adventure--he would follow her anywhere.

“Kamuzu!” Ahk shouted, knowing it would be better to have someone to watch out for them than not.

“No,” Nouke frowned, gazing at him with concern from the other side of the wall.

“It’s okay, he won’t tell anyone where we go. He'll just protect us,” he promised with a grin and deftly climbed through.

The sensation of hot sand beneath his feet for the first time was one the prince would never forget; it’s soft but coarse texture so alien but grand. Hundreds of tiny grains shifted and moved heedlessly around his toes--free--like he suddenly was. Ahk had only ever known the packed dirt of the training yard and the hard stone corridors of the palace. Sand was new, and it pulled a tight smile onto his lips.

Directly on the other side of the garden wall was a stretch of rural landscape that grew more arid the further west he looked beyond the Nile. All of it open and dotted with sparse, dried foliage: land that had yet to be peppered with stone structures. Along the banks of the mighty river green sprouted creating a striking contrast to the surrounding dry sands. It was like stepping from one magical garden into another, but this one had no walls.

Something ethereal washed over Ahkmenrah as he took in the grandeur of it all; the sights and smells and the horizon stretching out endlessly with nothing to keep him from running to where the sun was sinking into it. Everything he knew was encased in stone walls. It would have been so easy to venture into that vast countryside, but that sense of duty, that had been all but bred into him, kept him where he stood--yearning.

Nouke was already strolling along the riverbank, free of the yoke of responsibility. He was envious, to a degree, but not enough to hinder the joy he felt seeing her so uninhibited wading in the waters of the Nile. His feet sank into the sands as he stood watching her, finding the grains growing colder the deeper he rooted. Ahk wanted to follow her; he found himself glancing over his shoulder to the hole he had crawled out of.

Kamuzu managed to fit through and placed himself at the prince’s side, wearing the same stoical expression he always did.

“My father wouldn’t approve of me being outside the walls like this,” Ahk mused.

Kamuzu’s austere features softened, and one side of his mouth quirked into a slight smile, “Then we simply won’t tell him.”

With a nodding gesture, the Medjay encouraged the prince to join his friend. It was enough permission to chase away the invisible tether keeping his feet from moving, and with a flash of white teeth, Ahkmenrah grinned and ran to catch up with Nouke.

“Come feel the water, Ahk!” Nouke said, pulling him into the steadily flowing current of the Nile.

The water was up to their knees, and the cool rush around his legs was akin to the sand under his feet. The undeniable essence of life flowed around him, invigorating his senses and tingled every nerve in his body. The stagnant water in the pool of his garden would never compare to the constantly moving surge of the Nile. Ahk paid no attention to how wet his fine linen garments became; he wanted to stand there forever, feet buried in the soft river bed, water flowing freely around him as the sun warmed his shoulders. Nouke, however, took his hand and pulled him along with the current. The further from the palace they strode the less weight Ahkmenrah felt on his shoulders. There, he was just Ahk, and that was enough for him.

That stretch of bank along the mighty river became their second favorite place to venture. Many evenings that followed, Nouke and Ahk would tuck themselves away in their new oasis, a secret hideaway that allowed the masks of their reality to fall, letting them each be more and less than who they were meant to be.

*** 

Like the ever-changing waters of the Nile and the shifting desert's sand, the passage of time reshaped even the closest of paths. Responsibilities grew more significant as they grew older; placing a very irrefutable wedge between Ahkmenrah and his friend from the garden. Though they oft fought it.

At thirteen, Nouke was no longer simply a child of a maidservant, but a servant herself. She was expected to see to many chores at any hour, keeping her from the garden of her youth. As for the prince, his time of wistful adventure ran out too; Ahkmenrah was rarely out of his father’s sight. Merenkahre’s lessons shifted into actions. The pharaoh had taken to surrendering his seat on the throne or at the council, allowing the prince a taste of the future that awaited him.

The first time his father sprung such a notion onto his shoulders, Ahkmenrah was sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Every eye was on him, bearing down with a scrutiny that made his throat dry, and his palms sweat. He knew it was a test, one that he had been studying for most of his life. However, despite the years of shadowing his father’s every move, hearing his every command and testament, Ahkmenrah felt entirely out of his element. All his lessons were lost somewhere in the haze of his mind, and he desperately scrambled to recall what he had stored away. The only comfort was his father at his side.

Meren stood, mostly in silence, watching, lending quiet guidance, and solidarity. Even so, Ahkmenrah spent his first time as a ruler, with a white-knuckled grip to the armrest’s of the throne to keep his hands from shaking. That first time was the hardest. In the tests that followed, however, Ahkmenrah's confidence built more and more until he could present himself with the same regality of his father.

After a month of afternoons seeing to civil matters and addressing the council like a king, Ahkmenrah had never been more comfortable with the path the gods had laid before him. However, despite the comfort he felt, the notion of being pharaoh--and not just playing at it--had not yet taken hold. In his mind, he still had much to learn, but when his father summoned him to an early council meeting to discuss how much he'd learned in such a short amount of time; Ahkmenrah knew, his time as ruler was fast approaching.

That particular council meeting began like any other. Merenkahre sat at his normal seat at the head of the table while Ahkmenrah sat attentively next to his brother a few seats away. Most of the talk was the usual chatter: matters that ranged from trivial to pressing. Each warranted equal amounts of discussion regardless of how frivolous--a lesson Ahk learned early much to his childish frustration. When all other affairs had been seen to properly, Merenkahre stood, causing a hush to befall the room.

“My friends, there is but one matter remaining that I wish to discuss,” the pharaoh’s line of sight moved to his youngest son, and Ahk shifted, suddenly nervous. “I have been blessed in my time as pharaoh, and it is my wish that the same will be for the pharaoh who follows me.”

Merenkahre smiled proudly upon Ahkmenrah and gestured for the other men to follow his gaze. “As you are all aware, it was my intention to crown Ahkmenrah during his fifteenth year. But, during these past few weeks, he has shown wisdom beyond his years, and aptitude that far surpassed mine at his age.”

Ahkmenrah’s stomach twisted into a knot, and his heart was beating rapidly. Still, the prince held onto his composure, listening to his father, while sneaking side glances to Kahmunrah--seeing his indifferent expression meld into a disapproving sneer.

“Thus, I feel it is time, that I step aside and let Ahkmenrah take his place among Egypt's mighty pharaohs.” Merenkahre finished, holding his prideful simper.

A commotion broke out within the chamber as advisors sang praise to the pharaoh’s wisdom, all but one. Kahmunrah alone slouched into his chair, pouting, while the room congratulated the younger prince on his accomplishment. A lump grew in the back of Ahkmenrah’s throat; a cumulation of nerves, excitement, and a little guilt. No one had told Kahmunrah that he was never going to wear the crown, he figured it out on his own. And the bitterness it caused him had never been more palpable than in that moment.

Ahk swallowed that psychological clod in his throat before it grew large enough to choke him, and let his focus fall inward. A part of him considered forfeiting the crown with the demand that it be given to Kah so Ahkmenrah could spend his days exploring with Nouke. However, Ahkmenrah had endured years of teachings, and he wasn’t about to let his father’s teachings be for not. He didn’t want to let his father down, or his people. The prince wanted to be king, just not so soon.

“I’m not entirely sure he is prepared to rule, father,” Kahmunrah noted with an insouciant shrug.

Merenkahre shot his eldest son a vehement glare.

Kah raised his open palms as a sign of surrender, “I assure you; my reasoning does not come from my own desire to rule--”

“Then where?” Meren demanded.

“Your youngest son may possess the mind of a great ruler, but how can he rule the country if he does not know the country?”

The pharaoh’s intense leer waned as he considered Kah’s words thoroughly.

“I have seen much of this land,” Kah boasted. “The pyramids, where the Nile bleeds into the sea--I understand Egypt and her people. Ahkmenrah understands little more than the palace walls.”

The pensive expression on the pharaoh’s face melded back into a heavy suspicious leer.

“Are you suggesting that I crown you because you have seen all of these things?”

Kah’s jaw clenched as frustration strained his features, obviously upset his father gauged him with such mistrust. Nevertheless, Kahmunrah kept his tone even when he spoke his reply.

“My travels hardly give me merit to rule, father. I am simply suggesting the boy may appreciate the land and the people more if he sees them for himself.”

“Your son makes a fair point, my king,” one of the advisors noted.

“Yes,” another agreed. 

“And had you not seen much of the land and your people by the time you came to rule as well, father?” Kah added.

The pharaoh grew quiet again, rubbing his chin as he pondered. Ahk, however, sat, without finding words to speak, not entirely sure what was going to happen. It was rare Kah offered a suggestion that did not somehow benefit himself--Meren and Ahkmenrah knew that, which made the entire notion somewhat suspicious.

“And I suppose you want me to leave you in command while I am away with your brother?" Merenkahre tested, eyes growing narrow again.

Kah’s lips pressed into a firm line, his irritation becoming more difficult for him to stifle.

“You are the pharaoh, father. You will put into command whoever you think worthy,” his caustic tone matched his glance as he looked to Ahkmenrah and back to the pharaoh. “Just as you have always done.”

Ahk let his focus fall to the wood grain of the table in front of him, sinking lower in his chair, feeling Kah’s cold leer like daggers piercing his skin. He hated feeling guilty for something that was not completely his fault.

“Very well,” Merenkahre said finally. “I will think on this matter for a day, but it is likely the young prince, and I will soon be charting a course along the Nile.”

As the council adjourned, the apprehension that had been gnawing and tightening the knots in Ahkmenrah’s stomach slowly began to shift into something akin to excitement. Several of the advisors lingered, speaking to his father and brother about potential places to venture, but the prince didn’t stick around to learn where it was he and his father may be going. He liked the surprise.

It was early in the day, and he was sure there were to be more lessons awaiting him, but Ahkmenrah excused himself without a word, wanting nothing more at that moment then to share the good news with his best friend.

He went to their garden first in search of Nouke, but apart from the colorful birds, flitting throughout the greenery, it was empty. Curiosity pulled him deeper into the garden however, when his eyes scanned the furthest line of foliage, knowing the secret passage hidden behind the bushes. But, all the stones were as they should be; she was somewhere in the palace, and while a frown threatened to curl his lips downward, Akh would not let his excitement be hindered.

The prince wandered the grounds the better part of an hour before he found her among a group of maidservants, hanging washed linens to dry in the sunny courtyard. Immediately, Ahk's heart fluttered and beat faster and his smile spread across his face with tingling fervor. A chorus of surprised gasps echoed as he cut through the gathered women without ceremony. Some dropped to their knees while others bowed their heads respectfully, and all of them greeted him with a hushed “my, prince.” Nouke, however, beamed; giving him no such formal greeting. When Ahk took her hand, another gasp filled the open air of the courtyard, and the prince almost rolled his eyes at the drama of it all. Nouke didn’t ask when he whisked her away from her chores on hurried feet, she just laughed and held on to his hand like she would follow him wherever he wanted to take her.

Ahkmenrah was out of breath when he finally sat them down on the edge of the fountain in their garden. Nouke eyed him with amused confusion, waiting for his explanation with a soft smile painted on her lips.

“I have…to tell you…something…fantastic,” Ahk husked out between labored breaths.

Her dark eyes lit up, teaming with inquiry and that spirit he so admired. He took another moment or two to settle his breathing before he spoke.

“My father is going to take me on a trip to see the cities and landmarks of Egypt!” he was only vaguely aware of how fast he was talking; his excitement made it difficult for him not to. “It was Kah’s idea--he said a king should know his people. My father is going to make his ruling tomorrow and well…if he decides we are going; I'm going to ask that you come too.”

When he’d finished, Nouke’s excitement did not match his own, and that was enough to impede the joy he felt. She wasn’t even truly looking at him; her spirit dulled as she drew into her own thoughts.

“Nouke?” he asked gently, trying desperately to read her doleful aura.

She shook her head as her entire frame wilted, “I can’t go with you.”

Ahkmenrah’s face fell, and he met her sad eyes in silent question.

“I wish I could, Ahk. But I’m a servant. You're a prince. Your father would never allow someone like me to go with you.”

She was right. Servants were not companions to princes. Nouke to him, however, was so much more than a servant, she was his friend; she always would be no matter her station. His father would not understand that though, and the notion yanked ravenously on his heartstrings. All at once, the idea of adventuring lost its luster if he couldn’t share those experiences with her; and for a second time, he considered giving up the crown.

“I look forward to the stories you’ll bring back,” she said casting him a smile he knew was for his benefit and nothing more. “Promise you will tell me everything as soon as you return.”

Ahkmenrah nodded, sadness in his tone, “I promise.”

It fell quiet in the garden for a long time, the only sound coming from the rustling leaves caught in the desert breeze and the songbirds that played among them. Ahk’s eyes followed their sound, envying the freedom their wings granted them; with a few flaps, they could soar miles away.

“I have to get back to work,” Nouke murmured, sounding as though she didn’t want to leave him.

She gave him another rueful smile, and he did his best to match it.

“My father is probably looking for me,” he said, also not wanting to leave.

Before he turned to say his good-bye, Nouke pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Pink tinted her features and she smiled again, that time not quite as sad.

“Have fun on your adventure, Ahk.”

The prince watched her go, his fingers caressing the spot where she had so brazenly kissed him, feeling utterly torn. Ahkmenrah yearned to see Egypt’s centuries-old monuments and cultures, but part of him wished to stay in the palace forever where Nouke was. Surely a pharaoh who could do as he pleased could remain friends with a servant. The aching knot in his stomach, however, told him such a notion was not going to be so easy.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Three: Across the Sands

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: Winning

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: “Perfect! We-ell, Caduceus and I are done for the day, and I’m really sweaty because moving stone is pre-tty hard work, I bet I smell like Caleb-” She paused to wrinkle her nose, and Beau smirked obligingly “-and it’s been a while since we fought anything, so before I wash up I wanted to ask you to spar with me!”

Well, that settled it. It ran against her core principles to pass up an opportunity to punch something with no strings attached.

Beau and Jester spar. Things get complicated.

Wordcount: 2644

A/N:  Sometimes you start thinking about the low amount of gen tickle fics with girls in them, and then you wonder why it feels weird to think about, and then you get really determined to write one, and then… well, here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Beau! Beau! Oh, Booo-eau~”

There was only one person who called - no, sang - her name with that particular sliding flourish, so Jester’s energetic entrance through the doorway of their shared bedroom met Beau with all the surprise of - well, Jester. She was a bombshell, sure, but the kind that worked so well every time that you started looking forward to hearing the explosion. “‘Sup.”

Jester’s legs, the warm blue of her skin spotted with dirt and paint, sent her frilled skirt fluttering as they danced in concert over to Beau’s bedside. “Beau, are you busy?”

Beau looked up at Jester’s eager smile and then down, somewhat guiltily, at her notes. She’d tasked herself with looking through every bit of information on the Empire and Asarius, drawing connections, anything that could get the attention of the Bright Queen without putting Empire citizens at risk. They needed to prove that their usefulness didn’t start and end with the beacon, and - well, Beau wasn’t great outside a fight but at least she was paying attention most of the time. She could find something, if she spent enough time on it.

But if that meant saying no to Jester - “Uh, no?”

“Perfect! We-ell, Caduceus and I are done for the day, and I’m really sweaty because moving stone is pre-tty hard work, I bet I smell like Caleb-” She paused to wrinkle her nose, and Beau smirked obligingly “-and it’s been a while since we fought anything, so before I wash up I wanted to ask you to spar with me!”

Well, that settled it. It ran against her core principles to pass up an opportunity to punch something with no strings attached. “Hell yeah, let’s do it! Just - give me a sec, didn’t think I’d be fighting anyone today.”

The week of relative calm in Xhorhas had left nearly all of them in a perpetual state of undress, armor and battle accoutrements stowed away for the first time in months - the last time she’d gone this long without her arm wrappings was probably before the Cobalt Soul, back in Kamordah. She’d still been braced for battle, back then, but an entirely different kind, respectable dresses and forcefully detangled hair and why can’t you just be normal, Beauregard, why can’t you behave-

“Come on, Beau! It’s time for blood.”

Jester’s attempt at a threatening rasp was punctuated with a giggle, audible all the way at the bottom of the staircase, and it made Beau smile just to hear her. She jammed the cloth tail of her wrappings into place and headed for the training room.

Jester was bouncing on the balls of her feet in the scattered sand, already clutching her holy symbol in one hand. “Okay, let’s do this - I have so many cool spells now, this is going to be great-”

Beau abruptly flashed through the worst case scenario. “Hey, Jes?”

“Yeah?”

“Just - don’t turn me into an owl, okay? Or any animal, really, we’re sparring, but especially not an owl. Damage only.”

“Aw, Beau, you’d be such a cute owl!” Jester held up her fingers at right angles, posing them to frame Beau’s face like she was already planning a drawing. Beau rolled her eyes and didn’t even bother with squaring up, lunging straight towards her opponent with fists coiled.

Jester stumbled back, laughing even as she clutched her side. “Whoa, you hit even harder now!” Beau was ready to go in for another hit, but Jester was already recovering - she watched as her friend’s smile compressed from mirthful to confident, eyes narrowing in concentration, and wasn’t Jester just beautiful when she was focused like that - and Beau darted back just in time to avoid a fistful of crackling energy.

The spell fizzled in Jester’s palm and Beau closed the gap between them, but her next two punches were met with the solid metal wall of Jester’s shield. She dropped and swung her staff at Jester’s legs instead, forcing her to one knee, but as the shield came down there was a flare of pink behind it and Beau’s entire body lit up with pain as the glow enveloped her and sent her flailing back. “Ow, ow, fucking magic-”

She only felt a little bad about using her lightning gloves. And then not bad at all, because Jester returned the favor by lighting her on fucking radiant fire.

Time for a finishing move, then, before Jes picked her off at a distance (one more time, for good measure: fucking magic). Beau sprinted in, low to the ground. One foot toeing into the sand, she looped around to Jester’s exposed side and landed a flurry of blows followed up by a textbook Stunning Strike - fingers jabbed into meaty flesh, her qi pulsing and overwhelming her opponent’s, the enemy’s muscles locking up and starting to shake.

Six seconds of victory it was.

“Ha!” She straightened up, spun around in adrenaline-fueled celebration and pumped her fists triumphantly to an imaginary crowd. In battle, she would have continued whaling on her victim - in sparring, it was the end of the match and an opportune time to gloat. “The monk takes it again! One, two, three-”

Something collided with her back.

Beau’s first thought as she ate dirt, unsurprisingly, was that sand tasted really bad. She followed it quickly with a near-paralyzing dose of panic - Jester shouldn’t have been able to move yet, so who had tackled her? Why had she turned her back in a fight?

Delighted laughter rang out over her head, and some of the tension crept involuntarily from her limbs upon recognizing the owner of the mirth. “Jester? How-”

“I tricked you!” she crowed, feet planted firmly on either side of Beau’s butt. “I just pretended to be stunned and you fell for it and now you’re going to lo-ose!”

Hearing that the game was still on, Beau’s heart rocketed back into her throat and she was instantly trying to crawl her way out from under Jester before she could take a spell to the back of the head. Jester was almost unbelievably heavy for her size, having a lot of muscle, but she was terrible at executing a proper pin and Beau could feel her start to topple as she started to lever herself up on her elbows. “Not yet, Jes!”

“No, no! Stay there!” Hands scrabbled at Beau’s shoulders, over the back of her head, but she shook them off and kept trying to unseat Jester. She wasn’t even bleeding that much yet, she could definitely still win this.

Her can-do attitude lasted all of ten seconds, until Jester panicked and started fucking tickling her.

She didn’t even notice the fingers jamming in under her arms, they were just all of a sudden there and wiggling and utterly disarming. All the breath in her lungs whooshed out in an unbidden shriek as her main priority shifted to making it stop. Her entire torso dropped to the floor as her arms gave out, rendering every syllable of protest a strangled mess. “AHA! Je-Jehehes, nohot fair! Nohoho!”

Jester settled back onto her perch as if she’d never left it, her obvious glee mixing with Beau’s own. “Oh, Beau, you’re so ticklish!”

“Am nohohot! Fahaha-” She couldn’t even get a good swear out, and the inability to vent her frustration made the whole thing even worse. “Stop, stohohop-”

“Are you going to surrender?” Jester asked imperiously, the last word lilting in her accent. She sounded formidable for a single instant before dropping right back down into ‘excited puppy’ territory. “Say that I win; say it!”

“Never!” Beau grunted. She was sure that Dairon would have been able to quiet her mind and break free by now, but that seemed pitifully out of reach for her - still, by some miracle of painful contortion, she finally managed to grab one of Jester’s hands and squeeze it painfully enough to elicit a yelp. “I - ha, ha - Jes, we said damage spells only.”

“Well, tech-ni-cally this isn’t a spell,” Jester teased. Her free hand was still mercilessly tickling Beau’s right armpit, and it felt like the feedback from her gloves but a thousand times worse. Beau could barely keep her grip on the single hand she’d captured, and as Jester started poking randomly at her ribs her resolve weakened even further. “It’s like what you do!” Her voice pitched deep in a poor imitation of Beau’s. “Look at me, I’m a monk and I poke people and break all their muscles!”

Beau was laughing too hard to even begin arguing that point. She tried to dredge up some determination, anger, anything, but all of it was leaking out of her along with the contents of her lungs. Jester’s other hand slipped free as Beau spasmed at yet another attack on her armpit, and now she was once again being assaulted from both sides. “Jes! Jehehes - nohoho! - Jes, please-”

“You have to give up,” Jester cooed, sacrificing one of her hands to pat Beau on the shoulder in a mockery of soothing. “You’re too ticklish. Cootchie cootchie coo!”

Nope. Nope, no, absolutely not. Beau folded under the saccharine teasing like an undercooked piece of pocket bacon. “No! Nononoho-” Jester’s evil fingers backed off a little, and with her last shred of dignity Beau was able to wheeze out, “I fucking surrender, geeheez, just - ha - just lemme up and never say that again.”

Jester was off her back almost immediately. Beau could hear her boots clomping around in a victory dance, but her absorption of her loss was sound-only as she let herself face-plant into the sand. She inhaled a little sand, sure, but at this point she was pretty sure she deserved it.

“Beau? Oh no, are you okay?” Strong hands grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over. “Let me just - ooh, no, I don’t have any healing spells prepared - I’ll go get Caduceus.” She sucked in a breath. “CADU-”

Beau reached up blindly, clapping a hand over her mouth, and wearily shoved herself into something approximating a seated position. “No, no, I’m fine, Jester, I just - wow, that was really stupid of me.”

She pulled her hand back, using it to scrub sand off her own face, and revealed Jester’s lips wreathed in a perfect O of concern. “Beau, don’t - stop that!”

“Huh? It’s fine, I gotta learn from my mistakes-”

“Beau!”

She looked up at Jester again, then followed her horrified expression down to her other hand. It was ground into the sand hard enough that little specks of blood were welling up in its wake. “Oh.”

Jester’s shield dropped with a thud. In a flurry of skirts she was sitting knee to knee with Beau, cradling her bloodied knuckles in dirt-stained hands.

Beau looked down at her hands, listlessly cataloging the wet glisten of her wounds. It was easier than looking Jester in the eyes. There was a reason that you sat side-to-side with people when you were having difficult conversations with them, but she suspected that Jester hadn’t had enough of them to know.

“Beau,” Jester said, dangerously soft. “Beau, why did you do that?”

“Uh.” There was something glittery in her eyelashes - probably the sand. She used the wraps on her free hand to scrub it away. Opened her mouth, closed it again, and then started dabbing at the blood on her other hand.

She could tell Jester was trying to sit patiently, but the whump-whump-whump of her tail slapping agitatedly against the sand behind her was easy to hear and made Beau crack a smile despite herself. “Sorry, Jes, I shouldn’t be a sore loser. It’s been a while since I lost a fight, though, but I guess I haven’t fought alone in a while.”

I want to make sure I can protect you guys, and it pisses me off that I might make a mistake and lose one of you, she didn’t say.

Jester didn’t say anything until Beau looked up at her, and then she smiled wide enough that it almost masked the uncertainty in her dark eyes. “Oh, Beau, it’s okay! You don’t have to fight alone, ever, because we’re going to be there!”

Her hands were cupped around both of Beau’s now, protective, squeezing tightly. Beau twisted their pinkies together and smiled back at her, hoping there wasn’t any blood on her teeth.

Jester’s smile grew impossibly wider. On anyone else it would have looked insane, but somehow it just made her look even sweeter. “And now we know that you have a really nice laugh, so that’s also good!”

It took all of Beau’s willpower and probably a few monk skills to keep her from going bright red. “Uh… sure.”

She watched cautiously as Jester’s eyes shifted to the side, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth. “Beau, I know you’re mad at me… but I really don’t want you to be sad… would it make you even madder if I tickled you again, just a little bit to make you smile again, and then I’ll go get Caduceus and he’ll heal you?”

What was that first part again? Thinking while holding hands with Jester was hard enough. “You think…” Beau started slowly, “that I’m mad at you? Why?”

Jester’s lip chewing intensified, and now it was Beau’s turn to try and catch her gaze. “We-ell, because I played a trick on you and pretended to be stunned…and I forgot to prepare healing spells before I asked you to spar and if Caduceus doesn’t have them then we’ll just be like this until we go to sleep… and I’ve been really busy with Caduceus and we haven’t been hanging out as much… so I wanted to spar with you even though I knew you were probably busy…”

Jester was shrinking in on herself as she spoke, fingers sliding away from Beau’s, and Beau must have made some kind of noise at that because Jester’s eyes leapt to hers and all of a sudden, like an illusion had just been cast, her friend was back to normal. “But if you’re not mad at me then we don’t have to worry about it at all, it’s totally fine, and I’m just going to go get Caduceus now, okay?”

She made to get up, but Beau was already grabbing her hands and tugging her back into their little knee-triangle - rhombus? - of sadness. “Hey. Hey, Jes?”

Jester’s hands were shaking, just a little. “Yes, Beau?”

Finally, finally, their eyes met. “You know I love your tricks, right? I wouldn’t be mad - and none of the other stuff is your fault, that’s just - that’s just you, Jes, you like fighting and creating things and making people feel like they’re at home - if you told me that you were feeling that way I would have told you days ago that I wasn’t mad at you. You know you can tell me this stuff, right? I could never just be mad at you.”

They sat, stone still and heavy with how hard they were both trying to be enough for each other, and then Jester pulled her hands away and in the same movement lunged at Beau to wrap her up in a hug.

And quietly, against her shoulder - “But Beau, I don’t want you to be mad at yourself either, okay?”

Beau winced a little, her ribs definitely feeling the aftereffects of being sat on by a tiefling, but she squeezed Jester back just as tight.

“Hey, Jessie, tell you what. Before we go find Cad, let’s have a round two. No spells and no fists.”

Jester giggled, her tail swishing excitedly against Beau’s knee. “A tickle fight?”

“To the death,” Beau deadpanned. “Gotta get my revenge in somehow.”

And if she was blushing again, it was definitely determination to win and not because she was thinking about pinning Jester down and-

Yeah. Winning.

[handcrafted-by-fluids]

A Glimmer of Hope (Draco x Slytherin reader)

Summary: This is the second and the last part of a sixth year fanfiction. Your friend Draco has recently got distant. You've taken it upon yourself to find out what he's up to. Is it just because he's your friend.

Link for 1st part: https://handcrafted-by-fluids.tumblr.com/post/620292667778236416/a-glimmer-of-hope-draco-x-slytherin-reader

Warnings: Angst

Requested by: @malfoy7

Edited by: @eternallyconfusedsoul

Also dedicated to: @the--queen-of-hell

Y/N- Your name

Y/L/N- Your last name

Part 2

The winter was almost knocking the sunlight off the clock courtyard. Hogwarts had never been a particularly safe place to be in, but this year was going especially substandard, both for you and for the school. Last month a Gryffindor student had been cursed by a jinxed necklace. Draco was still avoiding you, and now he had started missing classes too. You were trying your best to stalk him, but most of the times he ended up in the boys bathroom or the Room of Requirement which you still couldn't access.

Christmas would be there in no time, and the word got around that Draco would stay at Hogwarts for this Christmas, something he never does. You decided to use this as your opportunity to find the truth out. Going back for a vacation wasn't more important than your friend.

On the first day of your holidays, you decided to wait in the common room for Draco to arrive from his regular venture. It was almost midnight when he sneaked in slowly, as it was well past the curfew hours.

"Filch missed you again?", you asked, keeping your DADA book aside.

He almost dropped his wand in shock. It was dark, and clearly, he hadn't noticed you.

When he didn't reply, you got up and stood in front of him. "Do you want me to turn you in?"

"You wouldn't", Draco replied, but it missed the familiar smirk.

"You don't know that, do you?", you replied. "But if you tell me where you were, I won't inform anybody."

"You think I'm answerable to you?", he replied, suddenly raising his voice. You noticed a glittery trail on his face. Was he crying? It was hard to tell in the dark. "I have support from people you wouldn't guess. Also, I asked you to stay away from me".

His voice broke towards the end of the sentence, which pained you terribly. He was crying.

But you had never seen him cry. Never. He had definitely wailed purposefully when he was attacked by the Hippogriff, but those silent tears told something else about the person you knew so well.

He was suffering.

"Draco. You can tell me. Whatever it is. I won't tell anybody. I trust you", you said softly. "It's okay."

"That's the problem Y/N. You shouldn't. You shouldn't trust me", he said, almost inaudibly. "You'll hate me."

"I- I won't", you said, carefully choosing your next words. "We've been friends for five years, haven't we? I never hated you."

"We can't be friends anymore. I have chosen my legacy. This is to keep you safe", said Draco. "Please."

He finally looked at your eyes. You gazed at his beautiful gray eyes which matched perfectly with his pale gray tinged skin and felt a sudden desire to hold his face in your hands and wipe his tears off. After what felt like an eternity, he tore his eyes away.

"I'm sorry Y/N", he ran off to his dormitory once again. You were too speechless to stop him. Were you falling for him?

.....

It was tough to accept what you actually felt for Draco, as now he was as distant as ever. By the time the students returned from the break, you had given up all hope of ever seeing him again.

The first blow came in the form of a widely circulating rumour. Draco had been fatally injured in a duel with Harry Potter. Before you even gave it a thought, you found yourself running out of your Charms class (to Flitwick's immense agitation). In no time, you're requesting Madam Pomfrey to let you in.

Being a Slytherin had it's own advantages. For example, you had some tricks up your sleeve to convince Madam Pomfrey.

"But he's asleep. He's been given a high dosage of sleeping draught. Wouldn't be another six hours before he wakes up", she said, clearly annoyed.

"It's okay, I'm just going to wait here, I won't disturb him".

You spent the rest of the day sitting by his bed and looking at him. Though you're highly tempted to brush off his hair, Madam Pomfrey was good at keeping an eye. You just hoped no other teachers noted your absence in class.

You had lost the track of time when you noticed Draco stirring. Madam Pomfrey rushed to his side and helped him wake up.

"Has the pain reduced?", she asked, as Draco started to regain his consciousness. But he was far past answering her, because he was starting at you tenderly.

"Y/N?", he asked, completely ignoring Madam Pomfrey.

"Oh, very well", said Madam Pomfrey, "looks like your pain is gone. I will give you two some time to catch up while I go for my meeting with Professor Snape", she said and left you alone with Draco.

"How are you feeling now?", you asked tentatively.

"Better", he said.

You placed your hands on his left hand and brought it close to you, but he pulled away quickly.

You noticed a small part of a black ink on his forearm, which looked suspiciously like a tattoo.

"Were you waiting here for all that time?", he asked, to which you nodded. "You know you didn't need to."

"I was worried", you said.

He looked at you unblinkingly, and once again, you felt as if someone had stunned you. All the time you had spent away from him had made you realize how much you loved his company. You had loved every bit of his intoxicating personality- his smirk, his snide remarks, his eyes, and the way he ran his fingers through his golden hair.

He sighed, but didn't break the eye contact. "You deserve the truth Y/N".

"No, Draco. I'm sorry for pushing you all this time, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to", you said. You realized that all your curiosity was driven by your eagerness to be his friend. Now as long as you could just look at his eyes and talk to him, you wanted nothing more.

"It's okay Y/N. I want to tell you."

You nodded and helped him to sit up. "I have been given a task Y/N. By- by the Dark Lord. It is my only chance to save myself and my family".

You shuddered. You had always been afraid to lose all your friends in the wizarding war. You knew it was inevitable, but never really thought about it. Especially how your friendship with Draco would be affected. You knew which side you were in. You were not the bravest, but your parents were killed by the Dark Lord, despite the fact that they worked for him. If you had a chance, you'd definitely fight against him. But if you had a chance to bring back your parents by working for him...

Your thoughts were interrupted when you realized Draco hadn't finished yet.

"I- "

"You don't need to say anything", he said. "I have done horrible things while trying to accomplish it. I almost killed Katie Bell."

So that was him. What task could be so dangerous that he almost killed a student? Afterall, he was just sixteen.

"The truth, Y/N, is that I'm a Death Eater now", he said, and rolled up his left sleeve to reveal a tattoo that you knew so well. He sighed again. "I know you'll hate me after this. But you weren't going to leave me alone, were you? I wanted to keep you away from my messed up life, but I was also afraid that you might hate me. I didn't want to lose you, but you deserved the tru-"

You grabbed his hand and leaned in to kiss him before you could change your mind. For a moment, the world paused. The only thing your senses could pick up was the subtle scent of his musk cologne and the slightly bitter taste of his lips, probably from the medicines.

Before your realized what you were doing, you felt his hands on your cheeks, drawing you in his embrace. He was kissing you back.

After what felt like an eternity, you parted, though his hands were still on your cheeks.

"I love you", you whispered.

"Why?", he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

"You are the strongest person I know. You are doing what you must, but you are not a bad person. I know", you replied. "You don't need to tell me what task you have. I know what the Dark Lord is capable of. We all have our terrors Draco."

He removed his hands from your cheeks, held your hands and brought them close to his lips, and gave them a soft tentative peck.

"I don't know what is to come Y/N", he said. "I might not be able to finish the task, I might not be able to survive. And if I do manage to finish it, I'll never be able to look back, I'll have to commit to him. But for what it's worth, you, Y/N, are my only glimmer of hope, and you'll always be", he said, and kissed you again.

You didn't know how long the peace would last, how long you would have the opportunity to kiss him, how long you could hold on to him, but you knew how much you loved him, and how you always would.

As if reading your mind, he replied.

"I love you Y/N, and I always will."

Note: I tried my best to write it without affecting canon, so it's a bit of an abrupt ending. If you want me to continue this and change the main plot of HBP, do tell me.

[margoshansons]

The Killing Kind (2/?)

Summary: Y/N helps Spiderman after the hoard of reporters won’t leave him alone. Something seems familiar about him, yet she can’t quite put her finger on it. When the rally ends, she receives a surprise visitor. 

Warnings: Mentions of Panic Attacks, Small Violence, mild Tony Stark related angst

Notes: There really isn’t too much plot here, because, like the movie, it takes a while to get into everything, but everything always comes back, so pay attention.

“And Thank you Spiderman!” May called from the stage, gesturing to the webbed superhero, who gave a small thumbs up before disappearing behind the stage with May. 

(Y/n) didn’t know how May was able to contact the slinging superhero, but she was thankful she did, it helped give the shelter more credit. 

“Thank you so much for coming out” (Y/n) announced over the mic, “Spiderman will be out in a few moments for pictures and questions.”

She ignored the groans coming from the press and continued to answer as many questions as humanly possible. 

“(Y/N)!” A childish voice reached her ears as a small mass collided into her legs, arms wrapping around her hips.

“Hey, Liv,” (Y/N) responded, returning the eight-year old’s hug. “How’s Mom and Dad doing?”

The child’s face broke out into a smile, “Mommy’s great! She just got a new job, so I don’t really see her all that much, but daddy takes care of me all the time.”

A chuckle escaped (y/n)’s mouth as the little girl continued to ramble on about her new home life. 

“How about you?” Liv asked, blue eyes sparkling, “Have you found a place to live yet?”

(Y/N) froze at the question, looking around to make sure nobody was listening before leaning down. “Can I trust you to keep a secret?”

The girl’s eyes lit up at that prospect and she nodded her head vigorously. 

(Y/N) leaned closer to whisper, “I’ve found a home too,”

“Really?” The girl broke out into a wide smile, “Where? Where? Where?”

(Y/N) hesitated. She hated lying to the girl she’d come to know over the past five years, but she knew her dad was probably sneaking around her somewhere, tapping her phone to listen in on her conversation. “Um, It’s a secret right now.” (Y/N) lied guilt pooling in her stomach at the frown on the little girl’s face.

“Oh,” Liv replied, all the excitement gone.

“But!” (Y/N) continued, an idea sparking, “It’s only a secret because I’m helping spiderman, and he doesn’t want anyone knowing where he works.”

“That’s so cool!” Liv exclaimed, “I’m gonna go tell Daddy that you know spiderman!”

(Y/n) smiled as the curly hair bounced away from her, running toward a dark-haired pair conversing with several more reporters desperate to gain more knowledge of how the Blip had ruined people’s lives.  

She still couldn’t believe it had actually happened. That Tony Stark was dead. That MJ had disappeared. That the Avengers were gone. 

Well, not gone, but they certainly weren’t anywhere to be seen. Not that she could blame them. The Blip had caused so many people to doubt their own safety, to doubt what they had been exposed to. People kept crying out for help in places they didn’t need it. No wonder the Avengers wanted a break. She guessed that’s why they recruited Spiderman.  Someone to keep the neighborhood safe. 

“No-no- please, um I’m not--” a familiar voice rang through her thoughts, pulling her toward the stage. It was Spiderman. And the hounding reporters. 

“Hey!” (Y/N) called, anger rising at the crowd of reporters enclosing Spiderman. She tore through them seamlessly, breaking through them until she landed directly in front of the webbed superhero. “Spiderman will not be taking any more questions for the rest of the night. Thank you.”

She grasped his wrist, leading him away from the reporters back behind the stage once more. 

“Hey,” She asked, her anger melting into concern, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m uh, absolutely fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Spiderman’s voice sounded eerily familiar, but she shoved that thought out of her head as she grasped his other hand. 

“Don’t let them get to you” (Y/N) urged, reminded of her father’s dealings with the paparazzi, “Reporters only want one thing: a good story. And local superhero becomes next Iron Man is the only one they’re pursuing now.”

“I’m not..uh..I’m not the next Iron Man” The masked caper replied, hesitancy littering his voice. 

A small smile crossed (y/n)’s face. “That’s good to know, we need someone like you protecting our streets.”

A small chuckle left Spiderman’s mask, and (Y/N) smiled at the sound. Hardly anyone had laughed since the Blip, and it was nice to hear it from the mouth of a superhero. 

“Look,” She continued, “I gotta go, but I want you to do something for me okay?” 

Spiderman nodded. 

“Breathe in for five seconds, hold for six, and exhale for seven,” (Y/N) explained, recalling the tactic she had been using since she was eight. “I want you to do to that three times okay?”

Spiderman nodded, and she released her grip on his hands, grabbing her bag and slinging it around her shoulder. 

She turned to walk away when she recalled a long-ago conversation with her father, regarding the fate of Tony Stark and the plans he had put into place. 

“For the record!” She called back, watching him stiffen, “I think you’d make a great Iron Man.”

***

The bells had been dormant and the church empty for years before (Y/N) moved in. She knew it was the last place her father would look and the last place he expected her to be. 

After the unexpected drop in at the warehouse three months ago, she had spent the next few weeks trying to find a place her father would never think of. 

Dust flew from her feet as she landed on the ground, jumping from the scaffolding she always used to enter and exit the building. 

Grasping the duffel bag she had worn earlier, (Y/N) stuffed several shirts and jeans she was having trouble deciding upon. Since MJ wasn’t exactly the best person to ask for fashion advice, she hoped May would help make up for all those years her mother threw away when she dropped (Y/N) on her father’s doorstep. 

A chill ran through the church, sending the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She grit her teeth and set her jaw as the blue dagger manifested out of nothing. She grasped the bare handle and yelled, throwing it as hard as she could at the intruder, knowing exactly who had followed her here. 

“Well, that’s one way to greet your old man isn’t it?” Quentin Beck smirked, dodging the weapon, blue eyes gleaming. 

Part One Part Three

Hell Yes! We’ve got Beck so things are starting to heat up. Thank you guys so much for the amazing feedback and support! This is my first imagine and imagine series so this means the world to me! Don’t worry, things will start to pick up once I get these three chapters out of the way and we can start getting into the plot. Once again, Feedback is appreciated and much loved so please do that! 

Also, kudos to anyone who can catch the Spiderverse reference I dropped.

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If you wanna be tagged, please let me know!

[a-vintage-snake]

That’s It, It’s Split

Pairing(s): Romantic Royality

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Abusive parenting, threats of violence, Remus centric stuff Characters: Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Character Thomas (For like a two lines)

Summary: Roman meets some unexpected new friends who have new information on his missing brother 

Word Count: 9339 (I am so sorry)

Author’s Note: Man I hope you all like long ass chapters CAUSE I GOT CARRIED AWAY HAHAHAHAHA but hey I am happy I got this chapter out, cause I am super stoked for writing the next chapter! Who knows, maybe next chapter some familiar faces will return...

People who were asked to be tagged: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend​

If you want to be removed or added to the taglist, just ask!

Read on AO3

The second Roman pushed open the doors of the library Patton let out a delighted gasp beside him.

“Oh my goodness… So many books!” Patton squealed. He let go of Roman’s hand to run into the room. Roman smiled at the adorable way Patton’s eyes grew huge behind his glasses as he took everything in. He couldn’t blame him though. The library was massive, rows of rows of neatly lined up books in oaken bookcases so large you could only reach the top shelves if you climbed one of the high ladders that were scattered among the bookcases. Spiralling staircases led up to different storeys, the dark wood decorated with fading pictures of flowers, plants and trees. The high ceiling was painted to look like a night sky, dark blue paint showing off glittering constellations. Tall windows bathed the library in golden light. Scattered between the bookcases stood tattered sofas and worn desks, inviting you to sit down with a book for hours and hours.

The scent of thousand year old tomes drifted into Roman’s nose, and he smiled. Despite that he rarely had the chance to spent time in the library it was still one of his favourite places in the castle.

“I’ve never seen so many books in one place!” Patton twirled around to take in all the scenery. “It’s amazing!”

“It is…” Roman said softly as they walked into the library. He listened with half an ear to Patton as his fiancé ran to bookcases to inspect the tomes, chattering excitedly when he found one that he particularly liked. Roman inspected the library with a scrutinizing gaze. What had it been about this place that his brother spent so much time here? Remus had never been the scholarly type…

“That’s it. I give up.”

Roman jerked up at a loud cluttering sound. Remus, who had been sitting at his desk, had made a sweeping arm movement and thrown all the contents of his desk on the floor. His inkwell shattered and tainted the carpet with a deep black stain.

“Remus what the heck!” Roman rose from his own desk to inspect the damage. “Why did you do that? Mom and dad will be mad if they see-”

His sentence trailed off when Roman looked at Remus, who had buried his face into his crossed arms, his shoulders taut.

“…Remus?” Roman frowned. “Are you okay?”

“They’re right…” Remus muttered with a sniff, much to Roman’s horror. “They’re all right… I guess I am just dumb…”

“What! No! Of course you’re not!” Roman said.

“Yes I am!” Remus lifted his head up, his eyes shiny. “If I weren’t I would actually GET this stupid stuff!” Angrily he gestured at the papers on the floor before he hid his face away in his arms again. Roman stared flabbergasted. He had never seen his twin so… so… sad before. Usually Remus was the one who pulled Roman away from his homework, grin on his face and a thousand plans for weird pranks on his mind. The castle staff had quickly learned that the 10-year-old princes were double trouble. Luckily for the princes, most of them were still swayed by their sweet faces and innocent looking eyes. Roman was quite proud of their innocent expressions- Remus and him had practised them to perfection on Roman’s insistence.

“Come on, Rem…” Roman punched his twin’s arm. “You know that’s not true! Could a dumb person ever come up with pranks as good as yours?”

No response.

“I mean,” Roman tried again. “Nailing nanny’s slippers to the floor was brilliant! Did you see the look on his face when he put them on, tried to walk away but couldn’t and fell over? That was so funny!”

A soft snort was heard. Roman grinned. Success!

“Or that time you read all about swamp monsters, so we covered ourselves in algae from the moat and scared the kitchen girls?” Roman continued.

“That was a good one…” Remus lifted his head a little, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah!” Roman had to stifle a snort in his hand. “Or how about when you had the idea to sew all the wigs of the lackeys together?”

Remus sat up, his lips pulled into a wide grin that showed off the gap between his front teeth.

“They tried to find their wigs, but there was only… THE ULTRA WIG!!” He yelled, raising his fists towards the sky. Both boys collapsed into giggles.

“Well… I guess I am pretty great.” Remus said proudly after they managed to get their laughter under control. However his look darkened when he looked down on the papers on the floor. “But then why can’t I just understand these stupid sums?”

Roman picked up one of the papers that were strewn all over the floor. Neatly written numbers their teacher had written out for them were crammed between Remus’ hastened scrawl where he tried to make sense of what was written down, and drawings of Remus stabbing the numbers with what looked like a large sharp knife. Clearly he had been frustrated for a while now.

Roman bit down on his bottom lip; he understood why. Divisions were hard. He had only gotten them after his teacher taught the class a trick to make it easier. But Remus had been pulled out of the class a while ago and given a private tutor. Apparently his brother had been ‘too disruptive of a presence for the other children’, whatever the heck that meant.

But… He could totally teach him that trick too!

“Scooch over.” Roman said as he sat down next to Remus on his chair and put the paper down in front of them. No time to get his own chair, he had teaching to do! Remus looked confused, but made room anyway. “Okay bro, this is what you do...”

For a while Roman tried his best to explain the trick. Remus didn’t understand it as quickly as Roman had. Luckily he knew his brother very well, so he added a little part to make it more interesting.

“So if you cut the witch up into ninety-eight pieces with your axe, and separate all those bits into neat piles of two, how many piles do you have?” Roman asked. Remus scrunched up his nose in deep thought. Roman practically saw him churning the math over with the trick he was taught.

“…Forty-nine?” Remus answered hesitantly.

“Yes!” Roman whooped. “Yes Rem that’s exactly right!”

Remus’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open, before he laughed and jumped up from his chair with a victorious yell.

“YES!! I did it!! Take that, math!” Remus screeched. “You ain’t got shit on me!!”

“Remus!” Roman gasped. “That’s a bad word!”

“I know,” Remus’ eyes glinted. “Shall I say it again…?”

“Noooooooo…” Roman snickered.

“Too bad! Shit!” Remus cackled when Roman nearly fell off the chair laughing. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT, SHIT, SHIIIIII-!!”

“What the devil is going on here?!”

Both boys immediately fell silent at the shocked outcry. Without them noticing their mother had entered their shared room. Quickly Roman and Remus scrambled to stand and guiltily try to hide the mess around Remus’ desk. Their mother had already seen however.

“What on earth is this?” She hissed while making her way over to her sons. She took in the black stain on the carpet, and then turned her furious glare to Remus, who shrunk into himself. “What did you do, you horrendous boy? Don’t you make enough of a mess of our lives as it is?”

“Well, I-” Remus tried to say.

“Don’t interrupt me! Ungrateful little freak!” She grabbed her son’s arm in a vice grip and shook him hard. “Maybe we should let you live in the stables, next to all the other pigs who can’t clean up their mess!”

“Mom wait! It was me!” Roman rushed out. Their mother immediately turned her attention on him. “I knocked the inkwell off the desk, like a doofus! It’s not Remus’ fault!”

Their mother’s eyes narrowed, while Remus’ eyes went almost comically wide. Roman felt his heart beat in his throat. Slowly queen Nadia released her Remus’ arm.

“Why were you at his desk?” His mother asked Roman.

“I was helping him… With his math homework.” Roman muttered.

“Y-Yeah!” Remus said, rubbing his painful arm. “I understand the math now, mom! I can do it!”

Queen Nadia looked between her sons, before letting out an impatient sigh.

“Remus, you won’t learn anything if you let Roman do your homework for you.”

Roman sputtered. “What? I wasn’t doing that!”

“He wasn’t!” Remus said. “He just showed me a neat trick, I can do the math now!”

“Oh really?” Queen Nadia raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Then tell me, what’s seventy-eight divided by three?”

“It’s… It’s…” Remus stammered. He pulled at his hair in frustration. “I know it, I do, I just need-”

“Roman, what’s seventy-eight divided by three?” Their mother turned to him.

“Twenty-six.” Roman answered automatically.

“I knew that too! I did!” Remus yelled.

“Apparently not, seeing as you took so long to answer me.” Their mother shook her head in disappointment. “Go back to your homework, the both of you. Individually and quietly.”

Her tone left nothing up to the debate. Both the princes reluctantly sat down at their respective desks and continued their sums in silence.

The next morning Roman had to helplessly watch as servants moved Remus’ bed and belongings from their shared room.

“But I don’t want a room of my own!” Remus wailed, struggling in the grip of his new governess.

“Me neither!” Roman screamed and he turned to his parents who overlooked the move. “Please let him stay! I-I’ll never do his homework again, I promise!”

“Take Remus away, he’s late for his lesson.” King Augusto waved the governess away, and the woman dragged his screaming brother away from the room. Before Roman could move to run after them his father placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Roman, please,” His father’s voice was soft. “I know this may seem harsh, but it’s the best for the both of you.”

“But… But…” He couldn’t take it anymore; the tears started to flow freely down his cheeks.

“Oh honey…” His mother’s arms embraced him and picked him up. Roman clung to her and cried into her hair while his parents rubbed his back soothingly.

“You must understand Roman,” His father said. “You are the crown prince! You have responsibilities, and your brother keeps distracting you from them.”

“I just helped him with sums…” Roman hiccupped.

“It’s sweet that you want to help him,” His mother said. “But he can’t be dependant on you forever. You two have your own lives, and I promise you’re doing him a favour by letting him discover his own path.”

“You can still spend time with him whenever you don’t have lessons or homework.” His father added.

Roman sniffled. “Promise…?” He whispered.

“Promise, sweetie.” Queen Nadia pressed a kiss to his temple. “Would we lie to you?”

Lost in his memories Roman trailed after Patton, who rushed ahead of him completely enamoured. Patton was so entranced by the library that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps from around a bookcase until he crashed into the person.

Roman was startled from his thoughts when he heard a loud clatter and saw his fiancé nose-dive down, pulling the man he crashed into and the large stack of books he was carrying along with him. They unceremoniously fell in a heap on the floor, Patton on top of the other, knocking all the air out of the man’s lungs.

“Oh-Oh my goodness I am so sorry!!” Patton scrambled up and started gathering the books that had scattered over the floor while simultaneously trying to help the other man up.

“My love, have you hurt yourself?” Roman hurried to the pair.

“Holy shit Lo, are you okay?” A fourth voice said, the owner of said voice appearing from around the bookcase.

“I’m quite alright, Virgil,” The man sat up on his knees and adjusted his rectangular glasses that had been knocked off his nose. “Let me clear up these books. They were in a specific order.”

Curtly the man pulled the books from Patton’s hands and started to stack them in their original order. Patton held still, his hands held up in that wary position of someone torn between wanting to help and not wanting to upset the other further.

“Uuuh, Logan?” The fourth person spoke up. Roman recognized the short man dressed in purple and black robes as the court sorcerer. “Maybe that’s a bit rude…? Just saying.”

The man- Logan apparently- glanced up from his task a little miffed to look at Roman and Patton, showing off bright blue eyes behind the square glasses. They stood in stark contrast with his dark skin and wavy black hair.

“Oh, I see,” Logan said upon seeing who he was snubbing help from. “Pardon me- Let me clear up these books, your Highnesses.”

“That’s not-! Never mind…” Virgil sighed, before turning to Roman and Patton. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, that’s alright!” Patton beamed. “I would probably make it even messier anyway! We’ll get out of your hair!”

Patton turned to Roman as Logan gave a confused little pat to his hair. “On with exploring?” Patton chirped.

Roman felt his heart sink as he and Patton walked further. Why had he thought that a clue would magically present itself by coming here? How could he know what attracted Remus to this place?

“Excuse me, prince Roman?”

Stopping in his tracks, Roman turned back to the questioning voice to find that the dark-haired librarian had called out to him of all people. “Yes?”

“If I may be so bold to ask,” Logan said as he stood up from the floor, balancing the newly stacked books in his arms. “I was wondering when your brother will return home?”

Roman’s eyes widened. He barely bit back a gasp of surprise. Was this his clue? “Why do you ask?” He said.

“Well, I brought in some new books that I thought would be interesting for him, but he still hasn’t seen them,” Logan answered. “His travels normally don’t last this long, do they?”

“…No. No they don’t.” Roman walked back to the two men, curiosity awakening inside his chest. He took in the tall librarian from head till toe. Logan didn’t seem to notice, he was busy piling the books on a desk.

“So when will he return?” Logan asked. Roman felt the hollow feeling in his chest deepen at the question.

“I’m afraid those books will remain unread for now, my literary fellow,” He managed. “Remus, he…” Roman swallowed thickly. “He’s missing.”

“Missing?” Logan frowned, looking up from his task. “What happened?”

Before he could answer, Roman felt a soft hand slip into his own. Patton walked up next to him, and gently squeezed his hand with a soft smile.

“Remus has gone to the Desolate Mountains.” Patton quietly continued for Roman, which made him want to kiss Patton in sheer gratitude. “He what?” Virgil’s face drained of the little colour he had, making the dark marks around his eyes stand out even more. “You mean he actually went?”

Roman’s attention immediately snapped to the court sorcerer.  “What do you mean, ‘he actually went’?” he asked sharply. Virgil flinched at the sudden cutting tone thrown at him.

“Last time I saw him,” Virgil faltered. “He was babbling nonsense about wanting to kill the warlock-”

“Last time you saw- You KNEW about this??” Roman ripped his hand from Patton’s grasp. “You knew and didn’t think of telling anyone?!” Fury swept up inside Roman. Someone else had known all along. If Roman had someone who would have backed up his story, believed him, they could have gone after his brother months ago. They could have… Could have…

“I didn’t think he would actually-!” Virgil tried.

“YOU ARE NOT HERE TO THINK!!” Roman roared at him. He didn’t care that Virgil backed away from him, holding up his hands in a failing soothing gesture. He didn’t care that Patton grasped his arms to keep him from advancing further on the man, or that Logan tried to step between the two of them. He couldn’t focus on anything else but the dull thrum in his ears, and the cowering sorcerer before him. “You are here to SERVE AND PROTECT OUR FAMILY-” “Roman, honeybee, please stop-!”

“YOU FAILED AT THE ONE JOB YOU WERE HIRED FOR!!”

“Your Highness, calm down please!” Logan stepped between him and Virgil. “I’m sure we can talk this over-”

With a mighty push, Roman shoved Logan aside. The librarian tumbled to the ground, but Roman didn’t care. He tore himself free from Patton’s grasp and stormed to the shorter man, fuming. Virgil’s eyes started to glow purple and he summoned shadows to his hands, the dark energy crackling in the air. Roman grabbed a fistful of Virgil’s robes, raised his fist and-

“THAT IS ENOUGH!!”

Everyone’s head snapped towards Logan, who had scrambled up from the ground. He was breathing heavily, his glasses standing askew on his nose.

“We are in a library, for goodness’ sake!” Logan snarled. “Have a little respect!”

Roman stared at the librarian, rooted to his spot. He then looked down at the man he held up by his collar. Virgil’s eyes were still glowing a vibrant purple, but that did nothing to hide the tinge of fear in them. Roman released Virgil’s cloak and backed away like had burned himself.

“I- I am so sorry, I didn’t-” He stammered. “I don’t- I don’t know what came over me-” Horrified Roman looked at his own hands. What on earth was happening to him?

Looking at the three men, all in various states of shaken up, Logan sighed, straightened his cravat and adjusted his glasses.

“I think,” He said calmly. “We could all use a cup of tea.”

--

Red-hot shame burned up Roman’s cheeks as the little group followed Logan through the library. He didn’t dare to take his eyes away from the ground, even when they climbed up several stairs to the higher levels of the library, and Patton was hugging his arm while trying to catch his eyes. Roman couldn’t answer his fiancé’s concerned gaze though. Not when he acted so shamefully in front of him. What kind of prince was he?

“Here we are,” Logan said in front of them, interrupting Roman’s spiral of guilt. The librarian opened a small door hidden between two bookcases. “Do come in, everyone.”

Stepping through the door, Roman finally lifted his head to look around. The room he just entered was an attic, large windows overhead showing off the summer sky. Every bit of a wall was hidden behind star charts and papers full of constellation drawings and notes written in a neat handwriting. Several stands were scattered among the room, displaying several models of the solar system. A spiralling iron staircase led up to a loft where a large telescope proudly stood underneath an open skylight.

“What is this place?” Patton asked, his voice full of wonder.

“My work space,” Logan answered, as he cleared up a big table in the middle of the room, overflowing with notebooks and papers. “I’m a scholar; I study the stars and the possible life beyond them.”

“I thought you were a librarian?”

“I am too. In exchange for the usage of the equipment here, I help maintain the library,” Logan moved armfuls of papers away. “It is quite a good arrangement. I wouldn’t be able to afford half the material needed for proper studying otherwise.”

“Oh here, let me help you with that!” Patton released Roman’s arm to help with clearing the table. This left Roman standing with Virgil. Both men tensed, and Virgil awkwardly tried to avoid the other’s eyes. Before Roman could think of anything to break the tension, Virgil muttered ‘we came here for tea right’ before quickly walking over to the other side of the room where a table with a kettle stood next to small sink. Roman was left standing by the door, feeling like an idiot and unsure of what to do. He decided to keep himself busy by looking at the star charts.

Virgil filled the kettle up, and lifted up a tiny jar without a lid from below the desk. A small purple flame was nestled at the bottom of the jar; it’s flames crackled softly in the tense air.

Patton stopped next to Virgil, arms full of papers. “What is that?” He asked curiously as he stared at the purple flame.

“Oh this?” Virgil said as he placed the kettle on the little fire. “An invention of my own. The flames are hot, but do not burn anything that it comes in touch with. Thought it might be useful for Logan cause-” Virgil looked up into Patton’s curious eyes, and coughed a little embarrassed. “You know… Books are flammable…” He finished lamely.

“That is incredible.” Patton said breathlessly. “You must be so talented!”

Virgil’s cheeks flared up. “It’s okay I guess…” He mumbled. “I mean, I only managed one so far since it’s so difficult to make, and haven’t been able to replicate it ever since, so I figured it was just a lucky shot-”

“Now don’t you dare talk bad about yourself, young man!” Patton said sternly.

“…I think we’re the same age-?”

“You’ve already made such an amazing thing! You should be-” Patton’s gaze flicked to something moving on Virgil’s shoulder. “ProaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

Roman, who had been inspecting a star model, shocked up at his fiancé high pitched screaming to see Patton dropping all the papers and nearly hop skipping to get away as fast as possible from a startled Virgil. “What happened??” He said as he quickly made his way over to Patton.

“SPIDER!” Patton screeched as he jumped into Roman’s arms. “SPIDER!!” He screamed again while pointing at Virgil. Following his love’s shaking finger, Roman saw what had spooked Patton so bad. Crawling on Virgil’s shoulder was quite possibly the largest tarantula Roman had ever seen. The arachnid was about as big as Roman’s hand, and had a dark purple colouring. Right now it appeared to have frozen in alarm at the sudden screaming.

Virgil followed Patton’s pointing as well, and his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, no no no! It’s alright!” Virgil gently picked up the spider from his shoulder, and now Roman felt a little queasy too when Virgil held the beast up in both hands. “This is just Romeo! He’s a good spider! He won’t do anything! He’s not even an ordinary spider, he’s-” Virgil stopped. Romeo the spider had taken one glance at Roman, and immediately took up a defensive position, letting out tiny hissy sounds and squatted on his long legs. Virgil immediately cupped him close to his chest. “No! Bad Romeo! No face jumping today!”

“He jumps on FACES?!” Patton shrieked.

“Only when I’m threatened,” Virgil answered absent-mindedly, which did exactly nothing to make Patton feel better. Virgil let a short stream of curses, before he quickly held open his cloak. “Come on Romeo, better hide. Yes, I know it’s not fun!” Virgil said when the arachnid again made short hissy sounds. “But it can’t be helped right now. Come on…”

Roman could swear that he heard the spider make soft grumbling noises, but the tarantula reluctantly crawled underneath the soft fabric.

“There, he’s gone,” Virgil said as he closed his cloak. “You can look again.”

Patton carefully peeked from Roman’s neck where he had hidden his face. Shakily he sagged in relief when he couldn’t spot the creepy crawly death dealer anywhere.

“Oh dear John that was scary…” Patton said in a trembling voice. “Uuhh, sorry for screaming there kiddo, I’m just- Terribly afraid of spiders!”

“Oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Virgil said.

A short cough caught everyone’s attention. Logan, who had witnessed the whole ordeal silently, looked like he felt a migraine coming on.

“Can we please have that tea now?” He said while rubbing his temples with his fingers.

A short while after the four men sat down at the cleared table, steaming cups of tea in front of them. Patton was still a bit rattled, Virgil steadily avoided looking at Roman and Roman himself sat stiffly, holding the cup between his hands like it was his last line of sanity holding him together.

“Well then,” Logan said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I think we can all agree that we figuratively started off on the wrong foot.”

“Understatement of the year.” Virgil muttered under his breath, making Roman wince. Logan gave him a warning glare.

“If we got off on the wrong foot,” Patton said with small smile. “Maybe we should take some steps to remedy that?”

Logan stared ahead, his face blank, yet his eyes betrayed the pain he was in. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

“I’m just going to,” Logan muttered. “Figuratively let that pass by. Anyway!” He said in a normal volume. “What brings you to my library? Also how come that our prince going missing isn’t widespread news?”

“We only realized today that he was truly missing,” Roman answered. He hesitated a second before he continued. “…A friend told me that Remus came to the library often, so I hoped to… I don’t know, find a clue here I guess?” Roman let his head hang in shame. Now Patton knew he had brought him here under false circumstances. He truly was the worst fiancé.

“Oh honeycakes!” Patton said. “Why didn’t you say so? We could have been detectives together!”

Bewildered Roman turned to Patton. “You’re not… Mad?” He asked incredulously.

“Why would I be mad about that, silly?” Patton giggled, and gently booped Roman’s nose. Amazed Roman entwined their hands together. Honestly, what did he do to deserve such kindness?

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, your Highness,” Logan said, interrupting the moment. “If his Grace left some kind of hint of his whereabouts behind, I have yet to find it. But it is true that he visited the library quite frequently.”

“Did he come here for a specific reason? Or for some special kind of books?”

“No. Despite his broad interests, the books only seemed to interest him occasionally,” Logan said thoughtfully. “I mean, take his last visit for example-”

In Logan’s eyes there would never be anything more beautiful than a perfectly organized bookcase. With a satisfied smile he slid the last book into his rightful place, and he took a step back to inspect his hard work. Very well done, if he said so himself.

Content Logan turned away from the shelf to continue on with the next bookcase, but when he turned he was greeted by an upside down grin.

“Hey nerd!” The owner of said grin cheerfully said.

“Good afternoon, your Grace.” Logan answered, observing the prince’s upside down state. Remus had his knees hooked into one of the bookcase’s ladders. “How long have you been hanging like that?”

“A while! Boy do you absorb yourself in a task! You didn’t even notice when I climbed up here!” Remus shrugged playfully, his face red and sweating. “Hey, do you think my head will explode if I hang like this for too long? Decorate these books with brain goo?” Remus giggled as he threw his arms wide. “Splat! All new paint for free!”

“That would be an unlikely occurrence. However,” Logan said as Remus let his arms drop in disappointment. “Being flipped over like that makes it harder for you to breath, heart problems may arise due to the increased blood flow, and your vision may experience permanent damage because of the added pressure on your eyes.”

“Neat!” Remus whispered, his eyes sparkling. “How long ya gotta dangle like this for that to work? Nevermind, we’ll just test it now!”

“That seems hardly healthy for you,” Logan answered.

“Oh come on, living science experiment in the making here! Isn’t that like your stuff? What kind of scholar are you?”

“The astronomy kind, your Grace, not the biology kind. Besides, today I’m here for my librarian duties.”

“Ugh, bore-snore!” Remus groaned. “Unethical science experiments are WAY better! What’s so fun about books anyway?”

“Well,” Logan said, knowing exactly how to distract the prince. “We do have a fascinating new book in about octopi.”

“REALLY!?” Remus gasped, wiggling his knees free excitedly. “Holy fuck, I gotta see that! Lemme just-!”

“Your Grace, WAIT-!” Logan started, but it was too late as Remus as elegantly as a rock thrown through a window fell on the ground with a thud. He sprung back up however before Logan could even ask if he was hurt.

“I’m okay! Whooo, headrush!” Remus snickered as he dizzily grabbed onto Logan’s shoulders. Logan diligently held the swaying prince up on his feet. “Alright nerd, show me the nerd book!”

Ten minutes later Logan was back on his task of organizing the bookcases, but occasionally threw glances at prince Remus who had sat himself down at one of the desks. He had yanked the book from Logan’s hands with an excited wiggle and was currently drawing furiously in a sketchbook, copying the pictures and diagrams of the squid with a nearly manic glee. His brow was furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out of his mouth.

Momentarily distracted by the sight Logan accidentally knocked over a pile of books that were still waiting to be organized off the desk. “Oh bother.” Muttered Logan, as he quickly gathered them off of the ground.

“You know,” the prince said, looking up from his sketching. “I don’t think I ever heard you curse! It’s always ‘oh dear’ or ‘good heavens’ with you! What gives, Geek Squad?”

“I don’t make a habit out of cursing.” Logan answered distractedly.

“But aren’t you tired of being nice?” Remus asked. “Don’t you just wanna go ape shit sometimes?”

“I hardly see how monkey feces applies to this situation.”

Logan restacked the picked up books and looked up to ask Remus if the book was to his liking, only to find the prince staring at him intently.

“As your prince,” Remus said, more serious in tone than Logan had ever heard him speak. “I order you to say a swearword, right here, right now.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, and adjusted his glasses with a sigh.

“…Well that’s just fucking inconvenient.” He said.

Remus’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open, before he burst out into wild, delighted cackling. Nearly choking on his own laughter Remus fell from his chair, screeching gleefully while rolling over the floor. In a minute Logan would remind Remus that he was in a library, and gently ask him to be quiet. But for now Logan just allowed himself a small, fond smile as he watched the laughing prince.

It was hard not to smile along with the story. Patton let out a small chuckle next to him, and even Virgil huffed out a short laugh. Roman regarded the stoic librarian with different eyes. So that’s why Remus came here so often…

“You were never… Bothered by his unusual questions or requests?” Roman asked hesitantly. He knew Remus had a tendency to frighten away people with his interest in the macabre. Logan however only shrugged.

“Hardly. He may be unconventional, but unconventional people have made some of the most amazing discoveries in our world’s history. So who am I to judge?”

Roman felt the vague urge to offer this man a hug. “I’m glad my brother found a friend in you.” He warmly said instead. Logan sputtered, his already dark cheeks turning several shades warmer.

“I am unsure if he saw me as a friend…” Logan said uncertainly. “I’m told that I’m… Not very good with friendship.”

“Oh hey, I’m sure that’s not true!” Patton said.

“Virgil only realized we were friends after I explicitly stated it at one of his ritually based conventions of supernatural conjuring.” Logan deadpanned.

“It was a coven gathering!” Virgil nearly yelled. “We were trying to exchange new magic! You were only supposed to bring a book! Seriously Lo, learn how to read a room!”

“How could I possibly read the room?” Logan questioned. “There was no text on the walls.”

“That is not-!” Virgil stopped himself and inhaled deeply. “Oh forget it…” He muttered.

“Well, uhm,” Roman said, trying his hardest not to laugh. “I believe he saw you as a friend, Logan!”

“…I hope so,” Logan said. “Truth be told, I have… quite missed him these past months.”

“Really?” Virgil asked incredulously before he could stop himself. Logan let out a sigh.

“Virgil, as we discussed many times, just because you don’t like the man doesn’t mean I have to dislike him as well.”

“You dislike my brother?” Roman asked the purple clad man. Virgil had the decency to look a little sheepish at the question.

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t exactly be thrilled either by someone who continuously screws up your magic experiments just because, and I quote, ‘why the fuck not?’ ” Virgil grumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“That-!” Roman started, pointing a finger at Virgil, who tensed, before he dropped his hand with a sigh. “That does sound like Remus, I’m so sorry.” Virgil looked up at him with a surprised look, but he shrugged.

“Eh, it’s not your fault. But thanks.” Virgil said with a brief flash of a crooked half smile. Guiltily Virgil glanced down again, anxiously twiddling his thumbs. “Look-” He started. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your brother… I honestly didn’t think that he would, you know…”

“No, it is I who should apologize to you,” Roman said sombrely. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you, or blamed you. That was very un-princely of me. The truth is… None of us thought Remus would be that reckless. I am more at fault for this mess than you, since I’m his brother.”

“Hey, I would freak out too out if my family would disappear.”

“It was still bad of me…” “Yeah, it was kind of a dick move,” Virgil agreed. “But… It’s cool. I understand.”

Both men shared a look across the table, the tension between them slowly ebbing away. Roman nearly sagged in relief when the sorcerer seemed to finally relax since they sat down.

“Come on, sweetie…” Patton patted Roman’s arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself! You couldn’t have known either!”

“I should have!” Roman pulled his fingers through his hair. “But I didn’t, and now my brother has gone into the lion’s den! Who knows what the warlock might do to him?!”

“You may not need to worry too much about that,” Logan said. “Technically we don’t even know if the warlock actually exists.”

“What do you mean?” Roman confusedly asked.

“I mean that we have no factual evidence of this figure’s reality. He might just be an overblown exaggeration of local folktales and rumours.”

“Oh, the warlock is real alright…” Virgil said darkly.

“How do you know that?” Logan asked. “Have you met him recently?”

Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers fidgeting nervously with his cloak’s sleeve. “Well, no, obviously,” He muttered, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “…But I have a feeling-”

“Saying fiction is fact based on feelings is bad science, Virgil,” Logan adjusted his glasses. “The real fact is that no one has ever seen this supposed warlock. We have documents stating a witch once lived in the mountains, but she appeared to have left a long time ago. If the warlock is actually real and not a blatant falsehood, shouldn’t we have gotten some actual proof of his existence by now?”

“Then how do you explain all the disappearances?” Patton asked with a thoughtful frown.

“There are plenty ways of disappearing in the mountains that are not supernatural in any way. For example, you have rockslides, avalanches, abrupt weather changes to name a few,” Logan rambled from the top of his head. “There’s the wildlife of course, like mountain lions and bears. Not to mention the many fantastical creatures that are potentially dangerous! Not many have encountered trolls and lived to tell the tale. Dare I say, there’s a very high risk of endangering one’s life-”

“Lo,” Virgil interrupted urgently, holding a finger against his lips. “Not the time.” He very pointedly looked across the table, where Roman had balled his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared down at the table with a forlorn expression, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Patton had his arms thrown around him, rubbing his cheek against Roman’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“Uuh, I mean,” Logan scrambled awkwardly, trying to salvage the situation. “These are all just statistics. Your brother could very well be alive!”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Maybe he… He just injured himself and he can’t properly travel back just yet.”

“Or!” Patton added. “He met someone in distress in the mountains and he is on a quest to rescue them!”

“Perhaps he made an amazing new discovery,” Logan smiled. “And he simply must document everything before returning.”

Roman lifted his head to give the people around the table a watery smile. “Thank you…” He quietly said.

Logan looked around to see everyone’s empty cup, and rose from his chair. “I’ll make us some more tea,” He said, before pausing to look hesitantly at Roman. “Would you…  perhaps be interested in seeing the books I ordered for your brother?”

Roman let out a shuddery sigh, before he nodded. “Yeah… Yeah, I would like that.”

--

Time seemed to fly by as fast as the wind.

When Logan returned with more tea and two books under his arm, Roman flipped through the pages as if he could find his brother in the pressed paper. One book was a bundle of quite possibly the most gruesome folktales Roman had ever read, while the other showed the inner works of the body in more detail than Roman wanted to know. Despite the morbid subjects however, Roman only felt an aching kind of fondness while reading them. Both books carried so much of Remus in them, even when his brother had never read any of the pages, that it made the hollow feeling inside Roman’s chest feel a little less overbearing.

At that point Logan and Virgil started taking turns telling stories and anecdotes about Remus. Little slices of life Roman had spent so long ignoring, but now he eagerly listened to. Every new tale only made the four men laugh harder than the one’s before, and soon the strange little group was chatting, joking and teasing like they had been friends for years.

“You’re kidding!” Roman laughed. “He actually chugged a potion you had specifically said was for cleaning the kitchen floors??”

“Man, I wish I was kidding,” Virgil groaned. “After he was done vomiting in my cauldron, you know what he said?”

“What?”

“That it tasted disgusting and I needed to add more mint.”

Wheezing Roman doubled over, clutching his stomach that was hurting from laughing so much.

“Oh gosh Roman!” Patton suddenly gasped. “It’s almost sundown! We have to hurry or we’ll be late for dinner!”

Surprised Roman looked out of the window to find Patton was right; the sky had turned several soft shades of orange and pink.

“Have we truly spent the entire afternoon here?” Roman marvelled as he got up. “So sorry for keeping you so long!”

“No need to worry,” Logan said. “This day was quite enjoyable, despite it’s… rocky start.”

“Yeah,” Virgil smirked. “No better way to start a day than almost getting in a fight with the ruling class.” “Hey nooo! I apologized-!” Roman whined. Virgil waved him off.

“Chill princey, you’re good. Although…” Virgil’s smirk grew more mischievous. “If you can convince your parents to get me more budget for a new set of beakers and potion supplies, I might not retaliate with spiders in your bed.”

Roman snorted. “I’ll see what I can do,” He said good-naturedly, before sliding the books still on the table towards Logan. “Thank you for showing me these!”

“Actually,” Logan said, as he pushed the books back. “Keep them for now. You might want them more than I do.”

Gently Roman picked up the books. “…Thank you,” He said softly, as he held them close to his chest. “That’s so kind.” He cursed that the day had ended so quickly. He had so much more questions to ask, more stories to listen to…

“Hey, I was wondering!” Patton spoke up beside him. “Do you think we could meet up again tomorrow?” Roman gave Patton a baffled stare. His fiancé only returned it with a smile and a quick wink, and Roman felt his heart swell up with love for this man.

“Tomorrow?” Logan said. “I’m afraid not, I have work to do in the library.”

“Yeah sorry, I got responsibility things too.” Virgil added.

“Oh… That’s alright!” Roman said, trying to not let the disappointment shine through.

“However,” Virgil said. “I can do Friday afternoon? How about you, Lo?”

“I do believe Friday would be adequate.” Logan responded. Roman looked between the two men, before a dazzling grin broke out on his face.

“Friday it is then!” He said cheerfully, before he followed Patton to the door. “We’ll see you then!”

Logan nodded a goodbye and Virgil gave a lazy salute while the two princes quickly made their way out of Logan’s workspace.

“They seem nice!” Patton said as they made their way to the dining room.

“They do!” Roman agreed. His thumb ran over the worn leather covers of the books grasped close to his chest. “Even after I acted so rude they remained so friendly…”

“Oh, don’t continue to beat yourself up over that,” Patton said sweetly. “Sure, you made quite a blunder, but nobody’s perfect! Virgil accepted your apology. Best way to continue on now is not to repeat the same mistake!”

Patton happily hummed as he threw one arm around Roman’s waist. Roman was too busy being flabbergasted to return the gesture. Honestly, the kindness of this man just kept surprising him.

Gently Roman pushed the dining room doors open, revealing his parents and king Thomas already seated… And, strangely enough, general Isolda standing next to his father’s seat.

“There the two lovebirds are!” King Thomas smiled as Roman and Patton entered the dining room. “We thought we would have to start without you!”

“So sorry,” Roman quickly said. “I was showing Patton the library and lost track of time-!”

“Oh, not to worry,” His mother said. “Love is distracting, after all!” She daintily chuckled, but the look she threw Roman over the rim of her wineglass was a silent warning. Don’t let it happen again. Roman anxiously swallowed and gave the barest hint of a nod.

“Well, now that you’ve made it,” His father said. “We have some great news for you!” The king gestured to general Isolda. “We have discussed it today, and the general is dispatching a group of knights to search the mountains for Remus.”

In shock Roman looked at the general. The woman didn’t look very happy about the whole situation, but he supposed he couldn’t blame her. Still he couldn’t beat down the pure hope that flared up in his chest. Carefully he placed the books he still carried down on the dining table.

“Really?” Roman walked up to the general. “You’re going to look for my brother?”

General Isolda’s eyes flicked towards the king for the barest second, before looking back to Roman’s hopeful face.

“Of course,” She said, straining a small smile. “I will… Put my best knights on the task.”

Roman couldn’t hold back the beaming grin breaking out on his face even if he tried.

“Thank you!” He said sincerely. “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank me just yet…” The general muttered under her breath, but Roman didn’t hear her. Instead he ran to Patton, who eagerly accepted the grandiose embrace Roman swept him in.

“That’s settled then,” The king nodded satisfied. “The knights will leave tomorrow at the first break of dawn. General, dismissed.”

--

That Friday Roman and Patton spend their afternoon once again in the company of the sober librarian and the sarcastic sorcerer. Laughter filled the air, but Roman couldn’t help it; his thoughts kept drifting to the knights that were sent into the mountains. Would they have found anything by now?

He hoped so…

--

A week passed. Roman assured himself that a week was too soon to expect news; he just needed to be more patient.

--

Patton left with the promise of returning soon, he just needed to work things out with the university. Patton blew him kisses out of the carriage window, which Roman pretended to catch out of the air and pressed to his lips. Numbly he watched as the carriage disappeared over the horizon. Not for the first time he wished that he could attend university as well. His parents had unfortunately always been dismissive of that idea.

--

Life went back to its regular schedule. No more Patton meant no more visits to the library to laugh and joke with his newfound friends, and no more lazily spent afternoons. The days ticked away in a haze of lessons, responsibilities and court meetings. On the days he spent with his old friends he was quiet and somber, mostly looking out of the window to see if he spotted anything on the horizon yet.

--

Outside the castle the leafs started turning orange. The farmers started bringing in the crops. The air grew crisp and vagrant.

“Any news?”

“None, your Highness.”

--

“Any news?” Roman asked.

“No, sweetie…” With a mournful smile, his mother rubbed his shoulder.

“Oh… Maybe tomorrow?”

“Roman, maybe you need to prepare yourself for… The worst possible outcome?”

“No! I couldn’t! He’s not-! They’re not-!”

“Roman, please,” His mother grasped both of his shoulders. “You’re not a child anymore. You can’t keep on denying that there might not be a… Happy ending to this.”

“I won’t stop hoping! I won’t!”

--

A month passed before Patton could visit again. His stay was filled with joy, more days spent at the library than Roman had ever done for his studies and lasted way too short for anyone’s liking. Before he knew it, Patton’s carriage disappeared behind the horizon again, leaving Roman alone with the ever-growing void in his chest.

“Any news?”

“No, your Highness.”

--

“Any news?” Roman asked.

“No son,” His father answered. He shook his head with a wistful look. “What a pity… So many young lives, leaving families and promising futures behind…”

Roman swallowed guiltily, and focused on his dinner.

--

“…Any news?” Roman quietly asked. He had asked for almost every single day now for the past weeks.

Perhaps today would be good news.

General Isolda however only shook her head sadly.

--

He stopped asking.

--

Like the falling leafs the days passed. The air quickly grew colder and colder by the day and before Roman knew it, he woke up to find the outside world had turned completely white overnight. He didn’t quite know how long he stared at the snow outside that morning. He only knew that despite his warm bedchamber, his insides felt as frigid as the ice that covered the grounds.

When Roman finally left his chambers, he had a large smile plastered on his face. He greeted everyone jovially, joked and laughed. His parents told him at breakfast that they were glad to see him in good spirits again. Well, how could he not be glad? Patton was a visitor once more, and he was able to stay to celebrate Winter Solstice and the New Year with him! What could possibly be better than that?

In fact, that afternoon he convinced his three friends to take a walk through the snowy gardens.

“Isn’t it great to be outside the library for once?” He merrily sang out. He inhaled deeply. “Aaah, smell that crisply clean air! Oh, and I do believe I smell that the kitchens are making beer stew and glühwein for tonight’s dinner! Aren’t we lucky?”

He turned and threw his arms wide, beaming at his companions. Logan barely heard him over his chattering teeth. He was buried in so many scarfs that you only saw his fogged up glasses. Virgil and Patton however only exchanged an uneasy look.

“W-W-Why did I let you convince me about this again…?” Logan’s muffled voice came from the pile of scarfs.

“Because it is fun! We could build a snowman, or have a snowball fight, or make some snow angels-!” Roman summed up. “We might even go sledding outside the castle walls! How about it, my cold comrades?”

“Roman,” Patton said tenderly, as he grasped Roman’s hands. “Roman, honey. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Roman chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong! In fact, I have a great idea! How about the four of us go ice-skating on the moat, wouldn’t that be-”

“Roman…” Patton folded his hands together under his chin, his wide eyes turning pleading and shining. Roman grimaced.

“Pat, please no- Not the puppy eyes, you know I can’t say no to the puppy eyes!”

“Then please tell me what’s wrong…?”

“Nothing! I promise! I just-” Patton’s lip began to wobble slightly. “Noooooooo, sweetie! Don’t do that to my poor heart!”

“Pat’s right,” Virgil spoke up. “You’ve been acting all… Forced happy-go-lucky and shit today.”

“Language!” Patton said sternly, momentarily dropping the puppy eyes to frown at Virgil. The sorcerer only focused on Roman though.

“Seriously princey,” He said. “We’re all worried here. Spill.”

Roman hesitantly looked between his friends, all three of them showing mirror expressions of concern. Guiltily he glanced down at his feet, his hands nervously rubbing together. The moments ticked by as the three friends patiently waited for their prince to say something.

“…Six months have passed.” Roman finally muttered.

“Yes, that is generally how the passage of time works.” Logan said. Virgil discretely elbowed him in the side. It made Roman snort out a laugh though.

“An astute observation, my clever friend!” Roman said. The amusement faded just as quickly as it came. “But what I meant was… Six months have passed since… Since…”

“…Since Remus disappeared.” Virgil finished for him.

“And four months since a search party was send out…” Roman nodded. His throat squeezed itself shut, making the words come out strangled and shaking. “There’s still no word from them. Nothing! They’re probably… Probably-” He couldn’t say it. The word was stuck in his throat, as if he feared that the second he would say it out loud it would become reality.

“Oh honeybee…” Patton sounded heartbroken. Firmly his fiancé embraced him. Roman hardly noticed, not even when Logan soothingly started rubbing his back or when Virgil grabbed his elbow. Tremors shot through his body and his breathing was shallow.

“Princey,” Virgil said. “You’re panicking.”

“It’s all my fault,” Roman said shakily.

“This is not your fault!” Patton protested.

“I was the one who wanted a search party! What have I done?”

“Roman, listen to me,” Virgil’s gravely voice cut through the rushing in his ears. “Breathe with me. Four seconds in, hold for seven, breathe out for eight. Can you do that? Follow the rhythm.”

Virgil’s fingers gently tapped out the rhythm against his elbow. Roman tried his best to follow the soft beats with his breathing. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, surrounded by people he loved so much it ached sometimes, but eventually his breathing evened out. The silence stretched out for a few more minutes.

“You are not to blame for what happened, Roman,” Logan eventually said. “You could have not predicted that this would happen.”

“But they sacrificed themselves because I-!”

BOOM!!!

Screams of surprise left the four men all at once. The little group jumped even closer together then before. Virgil’s eyes immediately transformed to purple, Logan grabbed Roman’s back in a tight hold, and Patton squeezed Roman’s waist so tightly that Roman could barely breathe. Adrenaline coursed through Roman’s veins and his heart beat painfully fast. What was that? Was it thunder? No, the skies were clear.

“What on earth was that?” Patton squeaked. Roman could only answer with a shake of his head, wildly looking around for the source of the noise. From everywhere people trickled outside, confused and scared sounds filling the air.

“What was that-?”

“-Too loud for thunder-”

“Are we under attack-?”

“Where did it come from-?”

“We should lock up the castle’s gate-!”

Through the growing crowd Roman saw his father hurrying outside, making his way to the front castle’s wall. On a whim Roman freed himself from the impromptu group hug and walked after him.

As the king climbed up the stairs to the ramparts, Roman quickly ran up as well. If he had looked behind him, he would have seen that Patton, Logan and Virgil followed right behind him.

“What happened?” He heard his father ask.

“Not sure, your Majesty,” General Isolda answered while she handed the king a spyglass. “But we know where the explosion came from. Look.”

The general pointed to the distance, and Roman followed everyone’s gaze.

A mushroom cloud had formed, right above a peak of the Desolate Mountains. It looked rather tiny, but Roman knew it had to be enormous to be even seen from this faraway. “What the fuck…?” Virgil said behind him, and Roman couldn’t agree more.

“It must have been something big, seeing as the sound carried all the way to here,” The general continued while the king inspected the cloud through the spyglass. “We can not know for certain what caused it unless we send knights to inspect-”

“No need,” King Augusto lowered the spyglass. “Obviously it was just a minor volcanic explosion,” He said with a light smile. “We’ll send troops to nearby towns to see if the blast caused damage to their homes-”

“Falsehood.” Logan said. The king froze, before he slowly turned to Logan.

“What did you say there, son?” The king asked in a low voice.

“Falsehood,” Logan repeated, master of Not Seeing Big Red Warning Flags. “We don’t have active volcanoes in the area, and even if that was a volcanic explosion, the cloud would be black because of the ashes. Also I’m not your son. Furthermore-”

His explanation was cut short, because Virgil punched Logan hard enough in the stomach to cut him off. As Logan doubled over in pain, Virgil grabbed him in a headlock and covered his mouth.

“Yep! Volcanoes! That’s definitely what’s going on!” Virgil laughed strenuously. “Very good thinking, your Majesty! Don’t mind my friend, he has a bit of a fever!” Virgil began dragging Logan away, who was making protesting noises behind Virgil’s hand. “We will be preparing an anti-volcano protocol now! A good day, my king!”

King Augusto scowled after the pair, before he noticed Roman standing at battlements, still staring at the cloud.

“Roman.” He said.

“Yes…?” Roman answered absent-mindedly.

“Go check to see if your mother is alright. I have to discuss sending out knights to the towns near the mountains.”

Reluctantly Roman tore his gaze away from the mountains to go inside with Patton in tow, leaving king Augusto to calm the large mass of people still at the foot of the castle walls.

--

As the crowd slowly started to trickle down and went back inside, many of them fleeing back to their warm chambers and fireplaces, Virgil lingered behind on the snowy ramparts. He squinted suspiciously at the distant peaks of the Desolate Mountains and the fading mushroom cloud, as if an answer would present itself if he just glared hard enough.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, you snake,” He hissed softly. “But it won’t work. I won’t allow it!”

No answer came but the ice-cold wind picking up, sending shivers down Virgil’s spine.

[ohtheseboysilove]

Different worlds [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 800 K +

Warnings : angst

Summary : Reader and Roger are simply not meant to be. Not in this life.

Note : Thank you for the request lovie and im so glad you like my writing 💛 I pick Roger for this one as I was afraid it would sound to much like my fic Insanely yours with our Benny boy.

🌼Request are open🌼 ☀ Masterlist ☀

@/none of these gifs are mine xx

Roger’s words stabbed right in your heart as you looked him through your glassy eyes, in complete disbelief.

"Wh—What ? You said you like me" You murmured feeling like a complete fool to believe him.

"Listen darling, I do like you, it’s true. But I’m the drummer of Queen, I’m a rock star, I can’t date a kindergarten teacher" he scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly siting in front of you. "I’m sorry okay ? I never wanted to hurt you"

"It’s bit late for that Roger" You stated sarcastically as you dried your eyes with a tissue. "Why did you ask me out anyway ? You’re the one who insist to going on a date with me, I was doing fine before you decided to break my heart" You snatched the cigarette from his hand and crushed it in his hot tea, it didn’t even deserved the drink anyway. And he knew very well you didn’t like when he smoke inside your flat.

"I— I don’t know, I had been selfish" The drummer played nervously with one of his ring, he wasn’t good for this kind of thing. And the fact that you were probably the sweetest girl he ever met didn’t help. "I need someone I can bring to important event with me and...we both know you’re not this person (Y/N). It’s not your scene"

You sniffled and wiped your nose, the ache in your chest getting rougher at each of his words.

"Who is she then ? Because the way you spoke about that someone, I’m pretty sure you already find her" Roger lowered ashamedly his gaze, staring blankly at the table. “Come on Roger, I’m sure she’s doing all the things I refused to do. The drugs and the partying every nights...probably prettier too, less boring than me"

"Nothing happened with Lila, I swear to you, that why I here" He answered sheepishly, his fingers drumming nervously on the wooden table.

"Yeah, you’re here to dump me like that you can go and fuck her without any remorse. That’s very brave of you Taylor” You chuckled sadly and stood up, you heard enough of him. “You should leave now, I think we don’t anything else to say to each other. Goodbye Roger"

You opened the door and watched left, guilt painting on his features.

“I’m really sorry (Y/N)"

You shrugged and closed the door as he disappeared into the cold night. You shouldn’t be that sad, you and Roger only dated for six months, none of you said I love you, you wanted too but you had prefer to wait until he said it first. God, thanks you didn’t humiliate yourself further.

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

It was not very pleasant to see your ex-boyfriend in the cover of magazine, a gorgeous redhead at his arms. Lila. She was a drummer too, apparently. Probably met at the studio and they obviously where from the same universe, lot in common. But after the initial shock...you were in peace. He was right, you and Roger maybe did love each other but you were living in two different worlds, close but so far away in the same time. It wasn’t possible, it was sad but also the painful reality.

That why you were rather surprised when, two months later, he showed up at the school you were working in. John Deacon’s daughter was in your class and that how you met Roger, one day he picked his niece and the rest was history. Until he ridiculously break up with you, facing John or Veronica was uncomfortable now, they even apologised for the behaviour of their friend.

You glanced at him but he didn’t enter your class, waiting for you to be alone. Once every kids were picked up by their parents, he made his way into your class, his Adam’s apple bobbing quickly.

“Uncle Rog !" The little Deacon jumped into the blond’s arms who immediately caught her back, giving her a big hug.

“Hey my angel” He put her down on the floor and kissed her messy hairs. "Do you want to do some colouring ? I need to speak with Miss (Y/N) before we go home"

The little brunette nodded eagerly and ran to the kid table, full of papers and pencils.

Roger came back to your desk as you pretended to do some tidying and he cleared his throat to catch your attention. You wait another minute before looking at him, your face showing no emotions.

"This is for you" He handed a half crushed flower’s bouquet, a timid smile on his lips. You glanced at the present and ignored it, putting away some of the kids’ drawings.

He sighed, defeated then put the bouquet in one of your pencil’s box, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

"What do you want Roger ?" You crossed your arms and examined his face, he seemed nervous and uncomfortable, his fingers running endlessly in his already messy hairs.

"’ m sorry (Y/N)" The drummer whispered timidly, his gaze staring at his shoes. "I...I miss you. I never should have breaking up with you” He confessed as he finally locked his eyes with yours, his lips pinched in thin line.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his completely unexpected words. You weren’t prepare for that, not all.

"But you did Roger" Your tone wasn’t bitter, it was a statement of the truth. "You didn’t for a reason and I’m pretty nothing changed during these two months. I’m still me and you’re still you"

He shook his head and grabbed the edge of your desk.

"I was being stupid this day okay ? I was fucking wrong. We are different, it’s true but I think we complete each other perfectly" Roger tried to reach for your hands but you took a step back, a flash of hurt ripping his face. “(Y/N), please...I love you" You close your eyes at his words, you had waiting to hear them for weeks but now it didn’t sound right. “And I now you love me too” He added almost desperately.

You slowly opened your eyes again and sighed deeply, glancing to see if the little Deacon was still focused on her drawing.

“Roger, I do love you but...but you were right when you broke up with me. We’re just too different, our...our lifestyles aren’t compatible" He shook his head negatively, panic spreading in his face.

"No, no, no, that was just a bullshit excuse...we can make it work ! I can make more effort for you, more time off...whatever you want" His sad eyes made you almost changed your mind but you knew it was for the best. Your relation couldn’t never work for a long time. “Please, Love. Gimme another chance" he whispered weakly, the fear that he completely ruined your relationship was destroying him. He had been so stupid.

"Roger, I won’t change my mind. We’re just going to hurt each other more than we already did, it’s useless" Your heart compressed in your chest as you witnessed his beautiful eyes watering at your rejection, his lower lip trembling. "I wish you the best Roger Taylor" you gave him a small smile and walked to his niece chatting with her to give him few minutes to compose himself.

When you both came back to the drummer, he was drying his red eyes with his sleeve and you pretended to not notice it.

“See you tomorrow darling" You waved at the little girl who hugged your legs then you looked at Roger, both of your gaze sadly saying your farewells. "Goodbye Mr. Taylor"

“Goodbye (Y/N)” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and gave you a thigh hug, avoiding the stranger look his niece gave him. “I wish it could have work between us, I really do”

“Me too Roger. Maybe in another life. “ He broke the hug and giving a nod, smiling sadly at you.

You watched left with a bittersweet taste on your tongue. It was the best but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Set it all free; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys, well after reading several Bohemian Rhapsody fanfics on some tumblr pages, I thought I might try to have my luck at it. Now please bear in mind this is my first time ever writing a fic about a Band. I don’t normally write about musicians (private message me about my reasons why) but after seeing the movie Bohemian Rhapsody last month, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Anyways I also got inspired after listening to Scar Jo’s song she did in the movie “Sing” to also help with this fic. So I hope you all enjoy this and any Queen fans out there, hope I didn’t make the boys to OOC or make this story suck.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, bit of angst, fluff over all.

_________________________________________________________

It was a typical day at the studio.  Being a college student doing an internship is a luck of the draw, getting that one in a million chance of interning under the biggest band in the world like Queen. That’s practically almost damned near impossible. But yet here I am.

Jim Beach or as Freddie likes to call him “Miami” hired me to help assist with the band during recording sessions as well as 3 weeks of touring with them.  While being their intern, I got pretty close with the guys, I looked up to them as not only my mentors for music and songwriting (since I play and sing a little bit but never really had the confidence to perform in front of a live audience) but they became like 4 big brothers to me.

Sadly however tomorrow would be last day of the internship before the next world tour of Queen, which meant I wouldn’t see the guys until 6 months until then.  So I tried to make do with the time I had with the guys left.  

I was currently lying on the couch watching Deaky do his solo bass recording for their current next smash hit.  Once he was done he asked.

“How was that?”

“Let us turn to our younger audience for approval,” Brian said into the mic so that Deaky could hear it.  The boys then turned toward me.  Of course me being a college student, they always wanted a “younger” persons perspective just to see if young people like me would bang their heads, or drum on their attiring wheels while the song played on the radio.

“What do you say darling? Will your people love it?” asked Freddie.

“Oh um please hold,” I played along and made my hands into a phone and then said in my best snotty business voice, “Queen it’s the Grammy’s you’ve just won the awards for Best Producers, Best Vocal performance in a duo/group and Best song of the year.”

“Oh darling you are too kind!” Freddie praised.

“In all seriousness it was great guys, you don’t have to always rely on me to be the barrier you need. Your breakout for Bohemian Rhapsody already proved your musical talents. Much better than ‘I’m in love with my car’.”

“Watch it squirt, I was just starting to like you” Roger threatened.  I stuck my tongue at him playfully giggling.

For the rest of the day, it continued on watching the guys record again and again until it was up to Freddie’s image.  Once the recording was done, the guys were now just lounging around drinking some beers while I was packing up to head back to my apartment.

“Okay guys, I’m about to take off.” I said.

“Oh come now (y/n) darling, stay for a while and have a couple of drinks with us” suggested Freddie.

“I can’t Fred, I’ve got an early class tomorrow and a shit ton of homework, if I miss this bus right now I’m officially gonna be late for classes tomorrow.”

“But love tomorrow’s your last day with us, and after that we won’t see you for years.” I went to argue when Brian interjected.

“It’ll only be six months Fred. Go on love, you’re free to go. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks Bri,” I then hugged and kissed the boys goodbye and said my farewells and they did the same for me.

I then raced out of the studio and headed towards the bus stop that was a few blocks away and thank God I made it just in time as the bus was coming.  I paid my fee and took a seat and took out my journal and started writing my internship for the day, logging in how many hours I did and retailing the hours in total I now had so that they would count towards my Internship credit at the University.

By around 7pm I finally arrived at my neighborhood and did the remaining 5 block walk to mine and my boyfriend’s apartment.  Oh yeah the one detail I left out, I live with my boyfriend Adam.  We met at University, me being a music major as well as him so we hit it off pretty well.

He’s cute and pretty good looking, but sometimes his attitude can really be a real pain in the ass. Like when I first signed up for the internship, he at first didn’t want me to take it because that would mean I was always would be away from him.  We had a fight about it till finally he just dropped it.

So things lately between us have been strained, so we’ve been trying to avoid each other, even though we live under the same roof which sometimes makes even going home awkward.

When I finally arrived at the door, I unlocked it and set my bags down with a groan and said.

“Baby I’m back.” But there was absolute silence.  I thought it was a bit odd because he’s usually still here after dark, very rarely does he ever go out this late.  “Adam? Adam you here?” I called out again.  I looked around the usual placed of the flat where he would usually be but he wasn’t in the kitchen, the living room, not even his game room.  So I decided maybe he was sleeping in our bedroom.

I walked down the hallway towards our shared bedroom and when I opened the door, my heart sunk.

Adam was asleep in bed alright, but he had another woman in his arms cuddled into his chest. I turned on the lights and screamed out.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Adam and the bimbo woke up and I saw that she looked like she belonged at a strip club with long blonde hair and possibly fake boobs.

“Hi, I’m Becky” the girl introduced herself in a bubble voice.

“Becky!?” I snarled.

Next thing I knew, I was tossing my now ex-boyfriend and his slut out of my flat.  Adam was struggling to put his clothes back on as was Becky when Adam proclaimed.

“You were never around! What else was I supposed to do?”

“I did it for us Adam! You couldn’t have had the balls to breakup with me? No! Instead you bring this, this this—bimbo into our flat. And you sleep with her in our bed!” I then threw his prized guitar case at his chest which knocked him down to the ground.

“Oh sweetie I’m sorry. I think I left my hat in there could I maybe—” before Becky could even walk another step into the flat, I slammed the door in her face and pressed my back against the door.

‘Come on Becky, let’s get out of here!’ I heard Adam say.

I was in hysterics as I slid down onto my butt and tears filled my eyes.  I couldn’t even be in this flat anymore.  Without even thinking, I just bail out and took off running.

I didn’t care if people walking past me saw my crying, all I cared about was just getting as far away from my flat as I could.  And I don’t know whether it was by some miracle nor do I know how I managed it, but I soon ended up back at the studio.  And judging by the lack of the limos and other cars, I knew no one would be home.

Using my extra set of keys, I entered the studio and turned on a couple of lights so that I could see better.  I first went into the loo and I finally saw how god awful I looked.

Blood shot red eyes, tearstains glistening on my cheeks, as well as mascara that made me look like a wasted raccoon.  I turned on the tap and splashed some water on my face hoping to clean myself up before taking a towel and dapping my face lightly with it until I look slightly presentable.

I then walked into the recording booth and spotted the couch.  I plopped down on it and grabbed the blanket that was over the top of it and covered my entire body with it, head and all.

Hoping and wishing that this couch would just eat me alive.

*3rd Person POV*

Around 8am sharp, the members of Queen well three of them anyways Brian, Roger and John arrived at the studio for another days of recording when they first took notice that the studio had been unlocked.

Worried that the place might’ve been ransacked, they rushed in but saw everything still in the right order.  They noticed a couple lights were on so they walked towards the recording booth in the back of the studio and that’s when John noticed someone sleeping on the couch.

He quietly walked up towards the couch and removed the blanket just enough to reveal the head and that’s when he saw (y/n).

“It’s (y/n) guys.” He said quietly.

“What the bloody hell is she doing here this early?” Roger asked.

“I dunno” stated Brian.

“Should we wake her?” asked John.

“Good idea, you do it Deaky.” Roger said.

“Me? Why me why don’t you do it?”

“The last time I got on that girl’s bad side waking her up, I nearly had all my hair chopped off!”

“Hush you two! If you children keep arguing she will wake up.” Brian hissed quietly.  He then shoved the other two out of the way and knelt down beside the couch and gently stroked her shoulder and whispered, “(Y/n), wake up love.” With that, (y/n) began to stir.

*My POV*

I grumbled as I felt myself waking up and the first thing I saw was Brian kneeling down in front of me.  I looked up to also see Rog and Deaky standing a couple feet away from me.  All three men looking at me with the same look.

Concerned.

“Hey” I stated tiredly with a hint of sadness.

“Morning (y/n). How long have you been here?” asked Brian.

“Don’t remember the time I got here, but it was pretty late. Ran all the way here from my flat.”

“Wait, wait hold on. You ran all the way from your flat to here? (Y/n) that’s like 3 bloody miles! Why did you come here?” Roger interrogated.

That’s when everything came back to me.  Adam and her. Tears once again filled my eyes as I let out a couple of sobs.

“Way to go Roger you made her cry!” Deaky snarled.

“I didn’t mean to! (Y/n) love you know I—”

“It’s not you Rog. It’s not any of you.” I choked out.

“Then what is it? Come on love tell us,” Brian encouraged me as he had me sit up so he could sit beside me.  Roger sat on the chair while Deaky came back with a box of tissues and sat on the other lounge chair beside Roger.

“When I got h-home last night. I—I found…..Adam. He was….He—he slept…..with another girl in our room!” I took a tissue and pressed it against my right eye as I let out a sob.

Now I have told the guys about my relationship.  Around my 2nd week of my internship with the guys, we were all just hanging out and they were talking about their relationships/marriages and that’s when the boys started to interrogate me on if I had a special man in my life (mainly from Freddie) and of course when I said I did.

They wanted to know everything.  It was like my four brothers became my four dads as they wanted his name, what he did for a living, how we met, how long the relationship had been going on for, and whether he was treating me right.  

When I told them about the starting strain of the relationship, Roger almost wanted to go to my flat and beat the living shit out of Adam but I told him we were trying to work it out to avoid Roger Taylor being front page news of beating a young college boy.  But of course he said, ‘so long as the headline say; ‘Roger Taylor defends girl’s honor’.’

“Where is he?!” Roger growled.

“Rog not now” Brian tried to keep the peace but Roger cried out.

“No! I made a promise that if he broke her heart I’d beat his bloody arse into a pulp! Now tell me (y/n) where is he?”

“I don’t know, and frankly I could give a shit. I should’ve just ended things when they got bad. This is my fault, maybe I deserved it.”

“Don’t say that love! You didn’t deserve anything. If anything he didn’t even deserve you.” Brian assured me as he rubbed my shoulder comfortingly.

“Adam was a dick to do that to you (y/n). And I agree with Brian he’s not worth it, not even your tears” Deaky said as he took another tissue and reached over and wiped away the tears from under my eyes.  I looked between the three of them and just before I could say anything, the doors opened the Freddie came strutting in.

“Alright lads let’s get straight to—(y/n) why the long face darling?” he asked.

“Her boyfriend was shagging another girl last night in their flat.” Roger said clearly still wanting to kill Adam.

“Oh no, come here dear,” he came right over to me and took my hands and stood me up so that he could embrace me tightly in his arms. “Deaky, why don’t you and Rog go and make her a cup of tea, Bri see if we still got any leftover sweets.” The three of them left the booth leaving Freddie and I alone.  “Did you stay here all night?”

“Yeah I just—I just couldn’t stay in that flat I…..”

“Shhh, there, there darling. Not another word about it, he was a wanker. All little boys are.” I managed out a smile. “There’s that smile I love so much darling,” he gently brushed his thumb against my cheek and lifted my chin to look up at him as he continued, “You can stay here and take it easy. You don’t have to worry about doing any work, and if anyone questions your lack of work for your final day, I’ll out in a good word for you.” He winked down at me just as Brian came back with the bowl of sweets Deaky bought a couple weeks ago, and both Rog and Deaky came back with a cup of warm tea.

The boys then guided me to a private room located next to the recording booth that felt more like a lounge room that the guys would use to just sit around if they ever needed a private moment to focus on songwriting or whatever.

Freddie set me down at the small love seat, Roger had taken the blanket that I had used last night and placed the blanket over my shoulder, Brian placed the bowl of sweets at my lap, and Deaky finally handed me my cup of tea.  Judging by the smell of it, it was my favorite brand; Jasmine.

“You just take all the time you need to get settled, and if you need us, we’ll gladly drop everything and help you out.” Said Brian.

“You guys don’t have to do all that—”

“Nonsense darling. You’re hurting and we can’t allow you to be sad. It’s a crime in itself. We won’t take no for an answer. Whatever you need, no matter how big or small, you just let us know. No matter how busy we are” Freddie interjected.

I looked between the four of them and just couldn’t believe my luck.  The biggest rock band in all the world, were my angels sent from above to help me through my heartbreak.

“I swear you should change the band from Queen to Angels.”

“Darling the only angel among us is you” said Freddie as he gently stroked down my hair and planted a kiss at the top of my head before leaving the lounge room.  Brian gave me a sideways comforting hug before kissing my temple, Deaky came up and kissed my cheek then Roger came up and kissed my other cheek before ruffling my hair messing it up to which I playfully shoved him making him chuckle.

Once the guys left me alone to begin their work, I sat there drinking my tea and snacking on as many sweets as I could.  About 10-15minutes into just sitting around, I just knew I had to play a song, but not just any song.  I was getting inspired to make my next song that I had in mind.  So finding some paper and a pen and noticing one of Brian’s guitars still in the lunge room, probably from the last time he must’ve been in here to just do some strumming or whatever.

I knew he wouldn’t mind cause he offered that if anytime I wanted to play, I was allowed to use his guitars so long as I didn’t break them cause otherwise he’d curse me for eternity.  I sat down on the floor and just did some strumming while I hummed trying to find the melody of my song first.

I tried about three different tunes until I finally found the right rhythm of the song.  Then came the lyrics.  Now as mentioned before I have written songs in the past but like with any song it’s not always easy but thanks to some of the tips that the boys have given me, I simply wrote what I was feeling down on the page.

The first and second verse came pretty easy to me but the chorus was where I started struggling with the most.  I quietly strummed the rhythm to myself as I sang what I was thinking.

“I can finally see it’s not just your name. When you set it all fr—free. No, no that’s not it,” I scribbled out the first few lines of the chorus and tried it again.  I then turned Brian’s guitar and played the tune again as I muttered the new lyrics this time, “When you set it all free, all free, all free. You set it all free”.

“(Y/n)?” I looked up to see Freddie standing by the door way.  His eyes widened almost in shock as he just stared right at me.  “Have you—been writing that song this whole time?”

“Well, not the whole time. I’ve only been just finished the first half of it in what—” I looked up at the clock to see that two hours have gone by since I started. “Two hours, wow that long? Is it bad?”

“‘Is it bad?’ Darling, it’s amazing! You have to sing it for us!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa Fred slow down. You know how I feel about singing, I can barely sing in front of you guys without almost having a breakdown.”

“No worries darling, we’ll work on that. Just show us what you’ve got so far, please I would really like to hear it.” He looked at me with those puppy dog eyes of his and I knew I couldn’t refuse.

“Alright” I groaned before he cheered and took my hand and dragged me back to the booth.

“My darlings, our little rock angel has been working on a song of her very own and I say we give it a listen to it.” The boys turned toward me and Deaky said.

“Is it true (y/n)?”

“Yeah I’ve uhh—it’s just something I thought would help me out with—you know.” At that moment, the boys dropped their things and sat in front of me anticipatingly like little children ready for a story from their teacher.  I knew then I had no other choice.

I sat down at the couch in the correct posture and tuned Bri’s guitar to the right key and strummed a couple of times.  I then began to sing as much of the song as I had ready singing the first two verses and then the chorus.  Once I was done, I looked to the guys and they all now looked like profession record producers as they muttered and whispered to one another.

“It’s not complete yet and I know it still needs work but I just—”

“Quiet for a second darling, the adults are talking.” Freddie said as he held up his finger gesturing me to be quiet.  They continued talking before nodding and standing up.

“Well (y/n), you were right there is a lot of work to be done with the song” Roger started off, “First of all it needs more than just a guitar, the first few lyrics should be introduced by drums, not strums of a guitar.”

“Secondly you’ll need a base to pick up rhythm of your melody on the guitar” John said.

“And of course the lyrics need more, plus some rewriting just a couple of the words.” Stated Brian.

“But this song will truly be a smash hit.” Finished Freddie.  I smiled at them and we all then got to work.

For months I met up with the guys to work on the song, improve on the lyrics and hear the accompaniment they’ve come up with on how the song will sound all together.  I then got gutsy and whenever I would record my guitar solo I had in mind for the song after one day in class, I played it for the guys and they all sat there in shock, even Brian, “The Guitar playing God” of Queen was blown away with what I had done.

Finally Queen was ready for their second tour.  This time worldwide.  We were about to tour everywhere from coast to coast of Europe, across America, to Rio, Japan, China and even Australia.  Then one day just before our show in New York City, the Big Apple itself.  I was backstage helping some of the crew set up for the show when Roger called for me to their dressing room.

I followed behind him and when I entered I saw the guys all sitting around looked dead at me. I was confused and asked them.

“What’s going on?”

“(Y/n), we’ve been talking and it’s time.” Brian said.

“Time for what?”

“In the middle of our set, we are going to introduce you and have you sing the song that we’ve helped you with.” Said Freddie.

Shock doesn’t even compare to what I was feeling.

“No I—I can’t this is…..I can’t sing out there. This is a Queen concert not a Queen featuring an unknown college girl who thinks she’s a singer. I can’t I won’t sorry wrong number I refuse!”

“But you can’t darling, you’ve got to finally show that wanker Adam that he hasn’t won in breaking your heart. Show him up on that stage that he didn’t break you down, that he didn’t get to you. Own that stage just as I do.” Freddie said as he placed his hands on my shoulders looking me right in the eye.

“Freddie I—what if I screw up? You know how I feel about big crowds and this—this show is sold out. I know I’ll choke. Why can’t you sing it?”

“Because this is your song darling, and I won’t take credit for a song that isn’t mine. Especially one that is personal to you”.

“And you won’t be alone up there love, you’ll have us backing you up.” Brian said as he came up to me.  I looked at all four of them and they all looked like they really wanted me to do this. I sighed deeply and said.

“How long do I’ve got to get ready till showtime?” The boys all cheered and they all guided me towards the makeup room.  The boys each had an idea of how I should look on stage and what my wardrobe should look like, for they didn’t want me to be a frilly princess cause they all knew I hated that, but they didn’t want me making a slut of myself.

So in the end, I was in long black jeans that flapped out at the ankles, a wore a dark grey patterned black shirt with a black leather jacket.  My makeup was a basic base with a dash of sparkling blue eyeshadow and to add to my eye makeup, my eyes were given wings to make them really pop out. And to top it all off, Freddie had actually asked Mary to go by apartment and I was given Becky’s light grey flat cap.

I looked at myself in the mirror and almost couldn’t believe that this was really me.  I twirled a bit of my long hair and said.

“This is so—scary.”

“Honey you never looked better,” Freddie said as he came up behind me and looked at me in the mirror. “Our little angel is ready to fly, and she is going to give those two arseholes a reason to fear her.”  A knock was soon heard and the stage manager called out.

“Five minutes till curtain gentlemen.”

“Stay lose to the stage, we’ll give a proper introduction dear,” Fred kissed my cheek and the boys all filed out giving me either a nod or a gentle pat telling me all would be well.

The right at 8pm on the dot, the introduction of Bohemian Rhapsody began to play on stage and the crowd went nuts.

The boys gave the audience a well earned Queen show, singing all the favorites like “Bohemian Rhapsody”, “Somebody to Love”, “Killer Queen”, “We Will Rock you” followed by “We Are the Champions”, and “Crazy Little thing called love” and “Another one bites the dust”.

It was then Freddie gave the crowd as well earned “Ay oh” which they all echoed back.  He kept the audience on their feet with how quick he would sing the note or have them screaming when he would hold a note.  At the end he proclaimed.

“Alright!” The crowd all cheered loudly. “Now ladies and gentlemen, this next song is gonna be something different. It’s written by a wonderful friend of ours, heck she’s an angel to us. But tonight, she will finally break out and we shall witness first hand of a future Rock Angel being born. So New York we’d like you to give a warm, Queen welcome to (y/n) (l/n)!” The crowd all cheered and I was practically frozen backstage.

I almost didn’t want to move but I took a deep breath and slowly walked out onto the stage adjusting Becky’s hat on my head with my head held high and the guitar in my hands.

The audience cheered louder as I came up on stage and Freddie turned to me and embraced me and I somehow heard him say through the screaming crowd.

“Own the stage darling, we’re right behind you.” I then walked up center stage up to the mic that Fred had adjusted to my size.  Even though I couldn’t see the audience, I knew what the stage’s size was and had seen all the seats before showtime and I already had pictured in my mind that all of them were filled and they were all looking right up at me.

I turned to Freddie and he mouthed to me.

‘Breathe.’ I took a big shaky breath in and exhaled out as I closed my eyes before opening them once more.  I turned towards Brian, Rog and John and they all nodded to me.

I adjusted the guitar in my hands and had everything plugged in thanks to the team and I took my right foot and slammed it down on the stage.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Like a heartbeat.

Roger then accompanied me with the drums and I turned to see Brian, Fred and John clapping their hands in the air to get the audience to clap along.  Soon thousands of people were clapping in unison as I began my song.

*Me (Queen)*

I followed my heart into the fire Got burned, got broken down by desire I tried, I tried but the smoke in my eyes Left me blurry, blurry and blind

John and I soon picked up the accompaniment with the guitar and base. I turned towards Fred who stood at the piano and he gave me a confident nod before allowing me to take the stage for a while. I then turned the volume up on my guitar and once the chorus hit I just let go.

I picked all the pieces up off the ground I've burned all my fingers but that's gone now Got the glue in my hands

I'm stickin' to the plan Stickin' to the plan that says

"I can do anything at all” I can do anything at all

This is my kiss goodbye You can stand alone and watch me fly 'Cause nothing's keeping me down gonna let it all up Come on and say right now, right now, right now This is my big hello 'Cause I'm giving, never letting go I can finally see, it's not just a dream When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free (Oh oh oh) (Oh oh oh) (Oh oh oh)

Feeling more confident, I then took off Becky’s hat and tossed it into the audience and I continued the song.  My boys backed me up on the vocals but for the main singing, they left it all to me.

I was a girl caught under your thumb But my star's gonna shine brighter than your sun And I will reach so high (so high), Shoot so far (shoot so far) (She’s) Gonna hit, gonna hit, hit every target

Make it count this time I will make it count this time

This is my kiss goodbye You can stand alone and watch me fly 'Cause nothing's keeping me down I'm gonna let it all out Come on and say right now, right now, right now This is my big hello 'Cause I'm here and never letting go I can finally see, It's not just a dream When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh)

It was then Brian and I doubled out on our guitar duets.  But when the moment came for me to explode on the guitar solo I had in mind, Brian allowed me the chance to shine so that he wouldn’t upstage me (like I mentioned, even he feared me at this solo).

I then sang in acapella for a brief moment letting my sorrow take over for a brief second but refused to shed anymore tears as Roger came back up with the drums and the rest of the boys followed behind me as we finished the song.

This is my kiss goodbye You can stand alone and watch me fly 'Cause nothing's keeping me down I'm gonna let it all out Come on and say right now, right now, right now This is my big "hello" 'Cause I'm here and never letting go I can finally see, It's not just a dream When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free

I slid across the stage on my knees as I just allowed my final solo to take over and then die down. I was so overcome with the adrenaline the entire stage was almost silent to me.  But when I began to recover, I could hear stadium cheers of a real Queen audience, only they weren’t cheering for Queen.

The roar of applause was for me.

I couldn’t even get up as I was overcome with emotion lowering my head and sobbing tears of happiness.  I was soon lifted by Brian and engulfed into a group hug by my four boys.

“Didn’t I tell you all? We just witnessed the birth of a true Rock Angel! Give it up one more time for (y/n) everybody!” Freddie proclaimed into the microphone.  I waved to the audience and raced backstage.

After the second half of the concert was done and our trip to New York was over, the boys came piling into the dressing room where I was recuperating after my performance and I was once again tackled into a group hug of them all piling up on the couch and hugged the hell out of me.

“Oh darling you were amazing out there!”

“You were fantastic!”

“You are a Rockstar now love, welcome to the club!”

All their praises made me feel so good in side and made me forget all about my heartbreak.

“I say this calls for a celebration!” Proclaimed Freddie.  He then took out the champagne and poured into five glasses and we each took a glass and Freddie toasted, “To our lovely and sweet angel (y/n). Who proved today that heartbreak is never the end. You prevail through it and become one beautiful, shining star in the heavens. To (y/n)!”

“To (y/n)!” The boys praised as they toasted to me.  I lightly clanged my glasses to them and I added.

“But none of this would’ve been possible without you guys giving me the confidence to get on that stage.”

“No love, that was all you. We didn’t do a damn thing.” I smiled at them and we continued the celebration long into the night.

*Extended ending*

It was another several months after and Roger and I spent the day together.  He was actually helping me move into a nearby flat that was right around the corner of where he and his wife were currently living that was up for sale.

After helping me move in, we had lunch together and that’s when someone tapped my shoulder so I lowered my sunglasses and saw Adam standing over me.

“Hey (y/n).” he said quietly.

“Adam.” At his name Roger went to sit up but I took his wrist and held him back.

“Listen, I’ve been doing some thinking and I was a real wanker for bringing Becky into our flat and sleeping with her. I want you back baby, you’re my best girl the love of my life and I can’t live without you. Please will you take me back.”

Oh I knew exactly what kind of game he was playing.  For you see shortly after my first concert with the band in New York, record companies left and right were trying to have a piece of me but I stuck close with my boys and had Miami be my record executive.  

Currently now I am in the works of my first album and on a few songs I do have my boys featured with me.  I was being paid big money while Adam here probably got dumped by Becky by the look of his unclean state and needed to be supported now, so he thinks he can crawl back to me and hope that I’ll forgive him for breaking my heart just so he can live off my well-earned money.

I put my shades back over my eyes and I said to him right in his face.

“You were. The way you turned your back on me after three years of a relationship that meant nothing to you but everything to me. You are worse than Paul if not up to his speed Adam. Which is why I am going to do to you what I should’ve done the very first day I met you in the University cafeteria.”

I then took my ice cold water that had just been refilled, took him by the loop of his pants and dumped the water down his pants.  He cried out at the freezing cold on his balls while I took my pasta and dumped it all over his head and then topped him off with Roger’s pie to his face.

I didn’t even care if I had an audience watching me, he deserved to be humiliated just like he humiliated me.

“Tell Becky I said hi.” I sneered happily as I grabbed my jacket and walked away.  I felt Roger’s arm go around my shoulder and he said.

“Couldn’t have done it better myself love, I’m so proud of you.”

“Really cause I can still feel my hands shaking.” We both laughed and he brought me close in a one armed hug as he kissed the top of my head and we headed back to my new flat.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Miraculous Ladybug au: Brokenhearted Part 4

(Part 1 ) (Part 2) (Part 3)

(Here is part 4, I hope you feel the angst, cause its on track and on the attack)

_______________________________________________________________________

A cat themed individual dashed across rooftops with incredible speed. He stopped for a minute to take in the air. It felt like months since he had tasted the night air. He looked at the city of lights and watched for a brief moment.

“Tonight is the night where it all ends.” The cat themed individual spoke aloud. Suddenly a purple butterfly outline appeared over his face.

“That is right Adrien, this will be the day we finally obtain the miraculous and get our family back together.” He heard his father speak through telepathy.

“For now it is Chat Blanc. We have to keep some form of professionalism Hawkmoth.” Chat blanc remarked.

His costume was similar to the one he wore when he was chat noir, but there were a few key differences. His suit was no longer black but white with matching white gloves and boots. Hie green irises and green sclerae was now purple, His hair looked slightly longer and wilder then before, and his gloves now had metal retractible claws at the tips of his fingers. Every part of his costume that was green was replaced with dark purple, while every part of his costume that was textured black was now white as snow.

Hawkmoth was confused on why his son would insist that he was given a costume similar to that of one of the heroes of Paris. But Adrien assured him that it would work best with him. Hawkmoth had suspicions that his son was hiding something from him, but that was a question for another time.

“Of course Chat Blanc, now find a way to draw the attention of Ladybug and Chat noir.” Hawkmoth advised. Unlike with the other akuma, Hawkmoth was not ordering Chat blanc, he was working with Chat blanc.

The outline vanished and Chat blanc began to think.

What would be a good way to attract their attention? He thought to himself. He could simply wait and get the jump on both chat noir and ladybug when they were in their respective homes. But that might cause more problems and plus that would get their families involved. Chat blanc wasn't going to do that, there needed to be some other way of getting their attention. He looked around and looked up to see the Eiffel Tower looking as glorious as always. He moved closer and noticed the mayor, Andre Bourgious, giving a speech at the base of the monument. He remembered that today was to celebrate the anniversary of the completion of the monument.

He looked at his Claws and Smiled. He had an idea.

_______________________________________________________________________

Marinette got home after a long walk that she needed in order to process her emotions. Her parents greeted her as they were closing up the bakery for the day. Marinette faked a smile and went up to her room. She closed the door and slumped onto her bed. She was emotionally exhausted and she still felt terrible about everything.

“Things can't get any worse.” Marinette said as her words were muffled by her pillow.

Tikki went to pat her head when her phone started going off. It was a text from Alya. Marinette moved her head up and looked at her phone.

‘Girl, Something is going down at the Eiffel Tower’

Marinette shot up and quickly moved to her living room to turn on the news. Her Kwami followed shortly behind.

She looked to see the mayor was looking up at the Eiffel Tower, where there was someone moving all over it, leaving claw marks all over the building. The camera zoomed out and noticed the claw marks were a message.

‘Find me heroes.’ the claw marks read.

“Seems I’ll have to put my pity party on hold.” She ran back up to her room. “Tikki Spots on!”

Marinette transformed into heroic alter ego, the red clad heroine, Ladybug.

“I should get some back up.” She said as she dashed out of her room and out of her balcony. She felt that the more heroes present, the easier it would be to keep it less awkward with chat noir, but something else was gnawing at her, something telling her that this was no ordinary akuma.

_______________________________________________________________________

Chat Blanc stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

“They should be coming any minute now.” Chat blanc stated, a purple outline appeared on his face.

“It would have been easier to simply demolish the monument.” Hawkmoth commented.

“The Eiffel Tower has been demolished more times by akuma attacks then any other monument combined. Forgive me for being a bit more creative with my attention grabbing.” Chat Blanc retorted. “Hmm seemed my message called all of the heroes of Paris.”

He looked to see not just Ladybug and chat noir, but the turtle miraculous wielder Carapace, the fox miraculous wielder, Rena Rouge, and the bee Miraculous wielder Queen bee. Chat blanc couldn't help but smile. He took a moment to watch them as they arrived in formation. Seeing Chat noir being the last one to land. The blue tipped haired black cat hero was still adjusting to his new powers. Chat blanc made a note of that.

“Well, this will definitely be interesting.” Chat blanc stated as he jumped off and began sliding down the monument. Jumping off and doing a 720 degree twist in the air before landing. right on the stage where the mayor had been speaking, but he along with everyone else had long since evacuated the area, leaving the place empty save for the six costumed individuals.

The black cat hero was the first to speak.

“Seems the akuma is a fan of mine. Would that make him a copycat?” The blue tipped hair cat commented. Chat blanc admitted to himself that it was a solid pun, albeit unoriginal.

“Chat Blanc actually, and if we are talking about copycats, I think it would be you.” Chat blanc stated as he walked off the stage. He turned his attention to Ladybug, who was standing there in shock. “Since I was the one who used that ring first.”

All but Ladybug and chat noir looked at him confused, unsure of what he meant by that.

“Hello Princess.” He asked with a wink. “Did you miss me?”

“Chatton...” Ladybug muttered, unable to speak anymore. She knew the moment she saw him that this akuma was her old chat noir.

“Now consider this your only warning, hand over the ladybug and cat miraculous, or I will take them by force.” Chat blanc stated. “I would think about this carefully.

”Not to sound rude dude, but its 5 of us against one of you.” Carapace pointed out. “And we have fought an army of akuma before, so I think you might want to think about this.”

Chat blanc placed his hand on his chin and pretended that he was thinking about the situation hard.

“I see your point, but here is my rebuttal” Chat blanc stated before pouncing at Carapace.

The turtle hero managed to pull up his shield and block the white cat villain’s claw. Chat blanc started slashing at him with his claws, Carapace doing his best to block.  He felt the strength of each of the cat’s attacks as it collided with his shield, each one was fast and heavy.

Chat noir charged at the white cat villain with  his staff and went to swipe, Chat blanc heard the new hero coming at him and side stepped so the staff hit Carapace’s shield, resulting in the staff flying backwards out of the cat hero’s hands.

Now unguarded, Chat blanc used a sweep kick to knock Chat noir onto the ground and turned his attention to carapace. Carapace tried hitting Chat noir by using his shield as a bludgeon, but Chat blanc caught it with his claw. He dug his metal claws into the Shield and yanked it out of Carapace’s grasp.

Rena rouge tried to get between them but Chat Blanc noticed her moving towards him and flung the shield at her. She couldn't dodge fast enough and got smacked with the shield, knocking her over.

“Rena Rouge!” Carapace cried out. “You are going to pay Shell...” Chat blanc swiped his miraculous before he could activate his power, transforming him back into his civilian form.

“Thats one.” Chat blanc stated as he put the bracelet into one of his zipper pockets.

He jumped back and pulled out his staff, smiling as he looked at all of their shocked expressions.

“So, whose next?” Chat blanc taunted. He had shown them he was competent and he was driven. They needed to step up their game.

_______________________________________________________________________

A purple suited villain looked out the window in his lair, he reacted to the startling realization that his son was the former chat noir. He had his suspicions in the past but he had cast them aside, it seemed that his son had used a similar trick that he had to get suspicions cleared away. He couldn't help but be impressed by his son’s cunning.

“So that is why you wanted this power set. Perhaps it is suited best for you Adrien.” Hawkmoth praised as he continued watching the fight.

_______________________________________________________________________

Chat noir looked at the cocky cat villain as he stood back up. He ran to pick up his staff and charged at him.

Chat blanc smiled.

“Oh look a volunteer.” Chat blanc mused. He watched as Chat noir swiped at him with his staff, Chat blanc easily dodge and decided to have a bit of fun. He knew full well that it was Luka underneath that mask.

Rena rouge grabbed Nino and took him away from the action so he could be safe. Queen bee turned her attention to ladybug.

“Ladybug what do we do? This cat knock off is serious business. How will we be able to beat him.”

“Ummmm I....” Ladybug was still clearly still in shock over her old partner’s new akuma appearance and could not seem to get a grasp on the situation. This was different then all the other times he was controlled by hawkmoth, now he was the villain and he was very efficient at it.

Rena rouge returned.

“Okay, Nino is out of harms way. What is the plan?” Rena asked.

“She isn't talking, she seems really out of it right now.” Queen bee explained.

“Well we need some sort of plan, planing is one of Ladybug’s specialties.” Rena pointed out.

“Well maybe its our turn to think of the strategy.” Queen bee stated.

______________________________________________________________________

“Give back Nino’s miraculous!” Chat noir shouted at Chat blanc as he went for more staff slashes.

Chat blanc got into a fencer pose and began parrying and dodging each attack

“Parry, parry, dodge, dodge backstep.” Chat blanc narrated as he dealt with each of the angry cat’s attacks..

Chat noir was getting more and more frustrated with each slash, he was already having a pretty bad day and this pompous akuma was not helping in the slightest. He went for an overhead strike that left him open.

“You are wide open.” Chat blanc commented as he thrusted his staff right into the black cat’s gut.

Chat noir felt the wind get knocked out of him. The staff wasn't sharp but it felt like a punch made with a metal glove. Chat noir dropped his staff and held his gut in pain. Chat blanc decided now was the time to take out his anger on the vulnerable cat hero.

He thrusted his staff into his right shoulder, then his chest, then elbow, then arm, then thigh, then other shoulder, he was forcing him back with each fencing blow. After several more hits, Chat blanc hit him full force in the gut knocking him off of the stage and having him land on his back, gasping for air and badly bruised all over. He jumped over to were chat noir was. Chat noir tried to get up but Chat blanc placed his hand on his chest.

“I gotta say, I know I suggested you should get the miraculous, I am disappointed by the lack of effort it took to beat you. Guess you are more of a lover then a fighter.” Chat blanc said as he moved to grab his ring.

“Don't move alley cat.” a voice called out. Chat blanc stopped and looked up to notice what appeared to be hundreds of copies of Queen bee surrounding him.

“I call this the Swarm storm.” The queen bee exclaimed confidently. “Prepared to get stung.”

Chat blanc stood up and smiled.

“Oh, now this is gonna be good.” Chat blanc spoke with amusement as he got into a battle stance. He quickly moved back onto the stage to give him a bit more of a high ground when the clones started coming at him several at a time, He hit them with his staff and they turned into orange smoke.

“Okay, I feel like I have seen this somewhere before.” Chat blanc commented as he kept swatting copy after copy. “Because this reminds me of this one show where...”

“Venom!”

Chat blanc stopped talking when he heard queen bee activate her power. She must be somewhere within the hundreds of copies.

“Okay, funs over.” Chat blanc said as he made his staff extend to as where the farthest away copy was. Then he swung it clock wise, wiping out all of the copies and hitting a solid queen bee before she got to him. He had his staff return to normal size and dashed to Queen bee. He went to grab her miraculous when it was revealed that she wasn't queen bee, but  Rena rouge who was smiling at him.

“Surprise.” Rena smirked.

“Wait, where is the real Queen bee?” Chat blanc questioned, now showing genuine shock and worry.

“Look above.” Called out the true Queen bee.

He turned to the voice to see Queen bee was approaching from above. He used his reflexes to grab Rena Rouge and started using her as a shield to block the Queen bee’s venom. Queen bee couldn't stop herself fast enough and stung the fox heroine.

“Oh no.” Queen bee exclaimed before both she and Rena had their miraculous snatched by the cat akuma.

“That makes three.” Chat noir commented as he put the fox and bee miraculous in his pocket. He turned to Chloé, who was very spiteful about losing her queen bee transformation.

“Chloé take Alya out of her. This is not a safe place for non-heroes.” Chat blanc commanded.

Chloé glared at him.

“Give me back Pollen you stupid cat.” Chloé shouted at him.

He glared at her.

“Now.” His voice steeped in menace. Chloé felt herself get scared and decided to not push the issue anymore. She grabbed the paralyzed alya and moved away.

Chat blanc looked to see the beaten up Chat nor trying to get up. He started to walk over to him but was stopped when a ladybug print yo-yo almost smacked him. He turned his attention to Ladybug.

“That is more then enough Chat. I won't let you hurt anyone else.” Ladybug stated with a fierce tone. She had stood still long enough.

“Well, you decided to jump into the fray after all. I knew you would eventually, my lady.” Chat blanc purred.

“Chatton, I don't want to fight you. I want to help you. Give back the miraculous you took. I can help de-akumatize you. Then we can talk about all of this.”

Chat blanc looked at her, his eyes softer.  Ladybug could see that there was a lot more to this then she was seeing.

“Save for chat noir, I did not want to fight any of you, especially you my lady. But I need to do this. I need to see this through to the end.” Chat blanc answered.

Ladybug stared down Chat blanc. The world around them seemed to have paused, the city was ominously silent.

“Whatever it is that caused this Chatton, please, tell me.” Ladybug asked, her concern and worry apparent in her voice.

Chat blanc looked at her.

“Hand over your earrings and I will not fight you.” Chat blanc spoke as if her almost pleading.

“I can't do that Kitty.” Ladybug answered, she began spinning her yo-yo, showing she was ready for a fight.

Chat blanc sighed.

“I wish I could say I hate your stubbornness, but I don't think I could ever hate you if I tried.” Chat blanc spoke as he got into a stance.

They charged at one another. Ladybug swinging her yo-yo at him, chat blanc using his staff to block the yo-yo strikes, slowly gaining more ground. When managed to get close he started swiping his hands to snag her earrings. She quickly dodged his swipes and jumped back, revealing a second yo-yo. She started taking the fight up a notch.

They were countering each other perfectly, It was clear that they were both equals as they moved about, taking turns attacking and defending. The fight could go on forever if there wasn't any sort of deciding factor. Ladybug started moving up the Eiffel Tower hoping a change of venue might open up the possibilities and perhaps give her a chance to use her lucky charm. The white cat was in pursuit and was not giving her a chance to get a safe distance away.. They reached the top platform and they were breathing heavier, neither of them was conceding an inch.

“I know you are trying to buy yourself time Ladybug. So you can get your lucky charm and use it to beat me. But I am not giving you that chance.” Chat blanc spoke between breaths.

“Tell me whats wrong Chatton, Tell me why you got akumatized. Why did you give up being my partner? Why are you so driven on getting the miraculous? ” Ladybug shouted. She was frustrated at the cat’s own stubbornness.

Chat blanc looked at her with his pain and frustration boiling to the surface.

“Because I don't want to be alone anymore!” He roared.

Ladybug stopped as she saw tears streamed down his face.

“I want the miraculous so I can get my mother back. So I can finally have the warmth and care that I have gone so long without! I want to finally let you be happy without thinking about how I will never be with you. I want to stop feeling this pain and loneliness that no cataclysm can’t seem to destroy no matter how much I want it to.” Chat blanc answered. He looked to the ground unable to look at her anymore.

Chat blanc dropped his staff and dropped to his knees.

“I miss the shy baker’s girl that would stammer sometimes when she talked to me. I miss the girl that gave me her good luck charm to help me get better at video games. I miss the girl that I became friends with and I gave my umbrella to.” Chat blanc confessed his tone softer.

Ladybug felt each word he said ring in her heart. She knew who chat blanc truly was under the mask, not just her old partner.

“A-Adrien?!”

_______________________________________________________________________

(So ends part 4, and this is where I decided to put my poll for all of you who want more. Do you want me to maximize the angst and bring this to end with a heart wrenching finale? Do you want me to give this a happy ending? Or do you want me to decide? Let me know, along with your thoughts on this part.)

[littlecrookedheart]

Imagine • Prompt Request One Shot

Prompt : “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?” / “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed”

Requested by some anons!

Pairing : Maxwell x Farrah

Rating : None! Pure fluff.

Word Count : 2,561

Author’s Note : This variates from canon but...most of my stuff does? I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer : I do not own these characters. I’ve added a bit of a flare to them for the sake of this piece, but they do not belong to me.

Typically, during these hours the castle was still, even the staff remained quiet as they dozed off sitting upright at their stations, security being the only select few ridden with energy. But tonight, as it had been for nearing a week, one man roamed the halls, clanking around the kitchen for a late night snack, slipping across the polished floor on the balls of his feet.

At the foot of the staircase, just before the turn into the kitchen, a stout man with graying hair and a long moustache sat at his position, shining a row of shoes.

"Lord Beaumont," he nodded, his nose whistling as he breathed.

"Just Maxwell, Grover. No formalities necessary."

"As you wish, 'Just Maxwell.' May I suggest something?"

Maxwell raised an eyebrow and smiled to the man, who looked up to him over thinly rimmed copper frames.

"If you'd like to continue these midnight walks through the halls, perhaps you'll wear shoes. You slide so quickly 'round the corners, I fear you'll knock your head into the wall."

Maxwell chuckled softly, sticking one foot into the air, admiring his doughnut printed socks.

"They're so fashionable, though."

"It would be more so a tragedy if their owner could only wear them while in an infirmary, yes?"

"Good point, Groves," Maxwell said, giving him a small salute. He peeled his socks off, leaving them in a bundle at the bottom step, making his way into the kitchen.

"What's for breakfast, Marjorie?"

Marjorie, a young girl with braided blonde hair, blushed from behind a large bag of flour, slowly peeking around to see his face. She was small and likely ten years his junior, but there was no doubt she awaited his company each day. She never said much, and neither did he, but he made it a point to share a smile with her as often as possible.

"Can you believe it, Maxwell? Queen Mother has requested berries and waffles yet again."

Maxwell hopped onto the counter, grabbing a handful of chocolate chips from a nearby tin.

"I don't mind that, so long as I get some, too."

Marjorie's lips curved into a small smile, looking away as she said, "Yes, but you aren't the one who leaves for the day smelling of frying oil."

"You fry the waffles?"

"Yes?"

Maxwell's forehead creased, a grin spreading across his face as he shrugged. "You learn something new every day." He slid off the counter, walking over to the pantry doors. "But you know why I'm here. Do you mind, Marjorie?"

"Of course not. Just be sure to let King Liam know to clear my panel so I'm not accused of stealing."

"Have I ever forgotten?" Maxwell smiled, grabbing a plate of saran wrapped cookies from a higher shelf. "Are these fresh?"

"They're from this evening, yes."

"I'll take these. Thanks, Marj. Gotta take these to Farrah."

"Lady Farrah is up so early? Today's festivities don't begin for six more hours."

"She's an early riser," he lied, rushing out of the kitchen and up the stairway, handing Grover a cookie as he passed by.

Farrah's room was second to the end of the hall, a far walk, one that socks helped speed up. The sound of Maxwell's feet on the floor made him cringe, but he didn't care enough to back track to his own room for slippers. He knocked four times, nearing a fifth before the door flew open, Farrah's face riddled in confusion.

"Morning, sunshine!" He said, squeezing in through the crack in the door. Farrah rolled her eyes, locking the door behind him and flipping on the switch to her bedside lamp. Maxwell had already propped himself in her bed, unwrapping the cookies.

"What time is it, Max?"

"Late. Or early, depending on how you'd like to see it."

"What I'd like to see is me asleep in that bed."

Maxwell smiled at her, gazing at her in awe. He adored the way the waves in her hair scattered across her shoulders, a few flyaway strands poking up from her head. She always seemed to glow in the morning, so soft and beautiful he couldn't believe it.

"Come sleep, then." He patted the bed beside him. "Or have a cookie. I grabbed these for us."

"What did you need, Max?" She asked, climbing into bed next to him.

"The truth or a lie?"

She glared at him and he laughed, ruffling her feathery locks in his hand. She grabbed his arm, reading the watch fastened around his wrist.

"I just kinda...wanted to cuddle."

"You come to my room and wake me up at four in the morning...to cuddle?"

He nodded, eyes widened like a puppy dog, lower lip pouting. Farrah drowsily smiled, handing Maxwell the plate of cookies and sliding over to him. She lay her arm across his chest, head on his shoulder, lulling herself to sleep to the sound of his heart beat.

And then a crunch, cookie crumbs raining down his shirt and onto her sheets.

"Aw, damn it, Max. You're getting crumbs all over my bed."

"Sorry," he mumbled, holding a hand to his lip.

"Bite it?"

He nodded, wincing. Farrah got up and made her way to her en suite, gathering a warm washcloth and healing salve from the cabinet. She sat next to him, soothing and tending to his bloody lip.

Maxwell caught the hazel reflections in her eyes, holding in a dreamy sigh as she softly dabbed his lip with the tip of her thumb. Her lips looked like roses, supple with morning dew, shining in the lamplight as she spoke to him.

"Next time, come to bed with me, and you won't have to sneak around so late for a cuddle."

"Maybe I like the sneaking," he teased, pulling her to him.

"I mean it. Come to bed with me."

"Farrah...you know the castle will be in talks the moment the lock clicks."

"So let them be," she whispered, drawing his lips to hers in a tender kiss.

"We aren't in New York. Cordonia...expects...more from us."

"Can I be honest?" She asked, Maxwell's hand caressing her hair.

"Of course."

"I hate that."

"Me too." Maxwell sighed, breathing in the fresh coconut scent of her hair. "If I could write our story, there would be so many nights where I just held you."

"Why can't we? I mean.. I know why. But convince me to believe it."

"There's nothing that can convince you. Nothing convinces me. But we do what we have to."

"Don't you get sick of playing by these rules?"

"I'm sick of anything that prevents me from loving you to the fullest."

Maxwell held her close to him, draping a knit quilt around her shoulders.

"Let's play the imagine game," he whispered, leaving a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"You first."

His fingers ran along the length of her back and to her neck again, gentle yet secure.

"Okay. Imagine...we could skip festivities today."

"Oh my god, please. What would we do?"

"Play cards in the sitting room at the Beaumont estate. You could teach me how to bake. I could give you my best Jerry Maguire impression."

"I've seen that impression, I think."

"Would you say it's...impressive?"

"Well, now I'm not going to."

"Wow! Sometimes, Farrah, I don't know how I fell in love with a bully like you."

Farrah laughed, nuzzling her face into his neck.

"Imagine we could buy a little house somewhere far away. Somewhere on the beach, maybe."

"We could watch the turtles."

"And eat so much ice cream."

"In fairness, I already eat a lot of ice cream," Maxwell said, reaching to grab another cookie. This time, Farrah grabbed it away from him, shoving the whole thing into her mouth. Maxwell bent his brows and burst into laughter before saying, "They're really good, right?"

"Does Marjorie still have a crush on you?" She asked, leaning to her bedside stand for a drink of water.

"Are you still jealous?"

"I've never been jealous, you goon, just observant. I think she made these cookies for you, they might be perfect."

"I've never met a cookie that I didn't like."

"True," Farrah smiled, "This could be pre-made dough and you'd love it."

"What?"

"It's a joke, Max."

"Pre-made?"

"You know, the tube kind."

Maxwell looked into space, a confused expression on his face.

"Tube cookies?"

"You can't be serious! You've never seen pre-made cookie dough?"

"What does that even mean!" Maxwell cried, dramatically chomping two cookies at once.

"Imagine a life where my fiancé didn't litter my silk sheets with cookie crumbs."

“Imagine a boring life, why don’t you?”

Farrah took the plate of cookies and walked them to the other side of the room, jumping on the bed, Maxwell’s strong hands catching her mid air. She pulled his shirt off and nestled her head on his chest, meeting his gaze.

“Hi,” he whispered, kissing her forehead sweetly.

“Hey,” Farrah sighed, filling the spaces between his fingers with her own.

“Imagine sitting in a cute little café where nobody recognized either of us.”

“Or how about…adopting a sibling for Chance?”

Maxwell’s face lit up at the idea. “How about two?!”

“Dare I say three?”

“Dare. But not four, that’s so much puppy love. I don’t know if I could keep up.”

“I have no doubts. Hmm, what if we went in one of those underwater tunnels to watch the fish swim all around us?”

“We could order pizza and watch reruns of Fresh Prince all day.”

“That sounds like a dream.”

Farrah listened to Maxwell ramble off ideas for while before drifting to sleep, the sound of his voice carrying her off like a lullaby.

Maxwell looked down, hazily brushing fallen strands of hair from her eyes before closing his as well.

–

In the morning, a quiet, repetitive knocking sound came from the door. Maxwell clamored over, opening it to reveal Marjorie.

“Maxwell, you’ve missed all of your morning calls, breakfast, and your ride. Your brother was so preoccupied with a phone conversation that I’m not so sure he noticed. I’ve let you sleep a bit, but I thought I’d try to let you know.”

“What? What time is it?”

“Nearing noon.”

“We slept…two hours…past time to leave?”

Marjorie nodded, a solemn look on her face.

“Thanks, Marj. You’re the best.” He closed to door, hopping into bed next to Farrah.

Her eyes opened slowly, becoming more alert when she noticed the amount of sun soaking through the curtains.

“What time is it?”

“Time to skip today’s festivities.”

“Good one. How behind are we?”

“Farrah, I’m serious. We’re not going. I have a better idea.”

Farrah sat up, checking the time on her phone, swiping through dozens of missed calls and messages.

“Max, what have we done?”

He was profusely padding away at the keypad on his phone, grinning as he looked up.

“We overslept. And I hearby decree that today we have an imagine day.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Never had one to begin with, baby. Put on your best pajamas.”

–

Marjorie handed Maxwell and Farrah each a small packed linen bag, nodding toward an empty hallway.

“Head straight out. Just beyond the trees.”

“Thank you, Marjorie,” Farrah said, a warm smile on her lips.

Maxwell took her hand, running out the door and past the trees, surprised that no security had returned to their postings yet. There was a parked car with tinted windows and civilian license plates, a set of keys tucked under the driver’s side tire. He unlocked the doors and got in, Farrah’s face lit up in excitement as he started the engine.

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here.”

Farrah connected her phone’s output to the radio, playing a throwback playlist from when they were growing up.

“Oh, make sure our locations are turned off,” Maxwell suggested, knocking his knee gently against the center console.

“You’re brilliant.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.”

–

After belting out ‘Bye Bye Bye,’ and a few handfuls of other classic 90s songs, Maxwell turned down an unmarked road. Farrah straightened her posture as they approached a modest yet grand looking house with old Victorian architecture.

“Whoa,” she exlaimed, looking to Maxwell with curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

“Welcome to tiny House Beaumont.”

“What? What is this place?”

“Come on,” he chuckled, elbowing her playfully. He walked to her door, opening it for her and taking her hand, unlocking the entrance with a small iron key from his pocket.

The foyer was dark but inviting, like a cozy house you’d see in a film. The wallpaper was ancient but beautiful, colorful florals strewn with vines and hummingbirds with more detail than anything you’d find in modern time. Maxwell locked the four steel locks on the door, turning into the sitting room and drawing two sets of curtains hanging over large bay windows. Along the walls were built in bookshelves, a dark oak shade, the scent of antique pages lingering in the air. Farrah sat back on a large sofa, its high back comforting her bones after the car ride.

“Maxwell, this is incredible.”

“Wanna know a secret? It’s mine.”

“What?” She leaned forward, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to her. “How?”

“I bought it during an auction a few years ago. I was sick of Bertrand and needed a break.”

“And it’s just been empty since?”

“I came here a few times since then. But there’s a staff that tends to it bimonthly.”

“How does nobody know about this?”

“I know how to cover my tracks when needed. Plus, the staff doesn’t know I’m who owns the place. They think the guy’s name is, 'Reed Starling.’”

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Not necessary, baby. Sometimes we all need a break. Plus, I did promise you an imagine day.”

“There will be chaos at the castle when they realize we aren’t there.”

“I called in a favor. Liam…he gets it. He will keep this a secret for us.”

“How long do we have?”

“Until morning. It’s as good as I could do,” he said, frowning.

“That’s perfect. So which one are we having, then?”

“Hmm?”

“Imagine day. What are we doing?”

“Well…Reed Starling may have placed an online order for pizza delivery.”

“Don’t tell me-”

“And my collection of Fresh Prince happens to be in that bag Marjorie packed for me-”

“Maxwell!” Farrah shouted, climbing onto his lap, scattering kisses over his face. She met his lips with intensity, fingers in his hair and happiness in her heart. She could feel him smiling against her, which made her do the same, leaning into the couch as they gleefully held one another.

“You deserve this, Farrah.”

“We deserve this. There is no 'me,’ when it comes to my happiness.”

“Maybe our life won’t be like this every day. Maybe when we marry and we reside in the duchy, things will be a little bland and a lot busy. But you’ll be with me and I’ll be with you, and that’s the happiest thing I’ve ever realized.”

“As if anything could be bland with you next to me,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Imagine being so in love you didn’t know how to comprehend it. So in love your heart could burst.”

“Imagine being in love with someone who loves you even more than that.”

[profanehero]

King’s Water

Ever since the fall of the American-Japanese Embassy; Katherine Parler had one question on her mind; and one question only.

How do you kill gold?

Do you break it down and break it apart? No... No gold could be reformed and melted. It would always come back together.

No.

You had to drown it.

A bullet-proof jacket, state of the art that would do more than just protect her from bullets. It would protect her from shock, from fall, from debris, and obviously from cold and from the son... It weight a good ninety pounds alone.

Forty-one kilos. She was never one for translating to the metric system.

She packed light, as she suspected would be needed of her if she wanted to draw out her intended target. Wearing a skin-tight combative top, skid-resistant leggings and opera-length compression gloves... She knew how helpless, and bare she looked under her coat... She knew that danger and finesse was the last thing that came to mind when people saw her.

Katherine Parler-  Banshee... Looked soft, unprepared... Defenseless.

And that was entirely what she was supposed to look like as she walked through the various alleyways of Toyko. She had been living in Japan by herself for nearly six months now...

The intent had been to stay in Japan as long as she could to adopt Hiroki, and try to live that normal life she had always wanted... The normal life free from pressures to use her quirk, free from someone else’s want to see her powers put to their fullest...

But Alloy followed her back.

So it was with great trepidation, and great maternal instinct; that one night when Hiroki was safely in the infant ward of a hospital in Mustafu that she donned her costume and took to the streets without her weaponry. She even left them purposefully in her equipment safe in her apartment... Everything that Banshee has officially registered to use with Japan’s government could be checked off at her house.

If her skulking around didn’t draw the attention of her stalkers... The note on the fridge written in English would.

Sumida Aquarium: 8:30 pm Penguins

Sure enough that’s where she went. She walked right up into the line, costume and all, bought a ticket and slowly made her way to the penguin exhibit... Where she waited, speaking to the occasional Aquarium employee.

Katherine had reservations about using the common Japanese people’s inability to say ‘no’ against them, but she needed to stay with someone official until she was asked... Politely... To leave at nine o’clock sharp- when the Aquarium closed.

She didn’t make any move to stay past then, and started moving to the exit... Watching the lights of the guest walk-ways as they clicked off one by one.

And then she saw a figure in a heavy suit, heavier than she had ever seen him wear before- he must have been cold in Japan. It was now solidly winter...

Alloy didn’t have the same smiling, controlling face that she had half-expected he’d don. Instead his expression was that of thinly veiled irritation hidden behind confusion.

His eyebrow raised in a silent question... Which he then proceeded to cut through by actually using his voice. “Yo...” he looked around. “... Now, if you had wanted a date; you have my number. You could have JUST texted me.”

A few seconds later Katherine had side-stepped into an employee’s only section and took off running.

“Okay. Fine. Not a date. I can take a hint.”

Soon she could hear the tell-tale signs of his pursuit into a hallway. The back employee walk-ways were lined with grates. Grates that likely couldn’t deal with the pressure of three metric tons on the surface area of a foot.

She turned around just in time to watch Alloy stagger over his own shoes as he ditched them to pursue her... Which he had gotten much better at since she had made the mistake of recommending Land of the Lustrous to him. Soon his feet were a molten trail of gold and he was basically figure-skating down the smooth concrete walkway- but it wasn’t long before she could turn the corner into a much larger expanse. A large aquarium warehouse...

Frankly, aside from a few obvious distinguishing sets of equipment it looked like any other warehouse. Wooden crates of roughly similar sizes were stacked up atop pylons and scaffolding. Large unassembled sheets of thick glass were stacked by each other against one of the walls- but the majority of the center space inside the warehouse was, in fact, taken up by unused tanks, tables, and oddly shaped crates, coolers, boxes- anything else that didn’t have an immediate place to go.

He was coming- he was coming... Under the desk.

Performing a quick tuck-and-roll underneath a desk and behind one of the boxes crammed in there.

Soon the sloshing sound of Alloy entering became apparent. After moving around to make sure there was no other way of escape the villain slowly resumed walking- his feet turning to flesh once more as he paced around.

“... I know you’re in here, Kit-Kat...” he paused, coming to a stop as he examined the walls with various pipes and valves. He let out a despondent snort. “... Katherine. I don’t like playing hide and seek.... Do I have to start breaking things?”

No response. Banshee noticed her hand was clasped over her own mouth.

A loud clatter, and the sound of a crate being thrown across the room.

“I guess so.”

In no time at all Alloy made quick work of many of the boxes of tools, and equipment on one side of the room- he didn’t even have to transform his entire side in order to lift it all- he just used the entirety of his hand like a god damned battering ram and tossed the things around like pillows- stomping down on crates like they were toothpicks.

But Katherine kept an eye on him, a close eye and made sure he had turned just far enough to dart back to the other side of the room... And of course her running meant she was heard- but this time that was the point. She was already halfway to the metal ladder up the side of one scaffold, dodging a well-placed pressure-gauge and wasting no time to breathe as she recklessly scaled up the ladder.

She saw his hand pull the ladder from the scaffolding- which was built-in mere seconds before she rolled over to the top and began searching- frantically for a spot on the hanging beams on the ceiling to get a good purchase... Finally she gets a break-- a hanging lamp a few sturdy scaffolds away.

With no time to loose and the scaffold behind her beginning to collapse like a card house- she ran forward and jumped, grabbing onto the hanging lamp and turning her head and opening her mouth to brandish the one weapon she always had with her- her quirk.

“TARNISH AND DIE-” but the threat fell through deaf ears as the box thrown at her was torn through a hateful red slash of threats- but bellow her Alloy seemed to look on in horror.

There came a creaking noise- and for the first time since she had jumped- she took a second to look at the lamp-- it was starting to give. Below her was a large, half-filled aquarium filled with fake reefs and water.

In a singular cartoony moment Katherine looked up at the light again, then looked at Alloy who actually looked worried just long enough for the sound of metal snapping to echo through the air as Katherine and the light fell into the slowly filling aquarium.

“SHIT! KATHERINE!”

Alloy rarely ran- but he ran this time- human sized feet-cracks in the pavement behind him as he merely hit the glass with a fragment of his strength- washing he and the entire warehouse in a gush of saltwater.... And broken glass...

Okay. He should have thought that last part through for a split second he couldn’t see anything in his eyes.

And  great, something got stuck around his neck-

Wait.

After a moment of sudden realization Alloy’s stinging eyes opened just as the shock collar Katherine’s new costume tightened itself around her neck and activated, sending him tumbling to the ground as his entire body seized.

He was covered in salt water... And in the middle of an aquarium. In actual clothing- so even if he could take the time and shake water off his body- it’d still cling to the clothing fabric.

She was never in trouble...

This was her plan.

A moment of sputtering on the ground and he was staring up, trying so desperately to morph into a more advantageous form- but to no avail, the shock collar activated again.

Maybe... Maybe if he just... Didn’t fight for a moment... he could lure her into a sense of complacency.

“How are you-- not..?”

“Coat... It’s made from an entirely conductive metal thread on the exterior... But my suit’s interior, and my Jacket’s interior; completely shock-resistant... Courtesy of Doctor Patrick Rawlings.”

For a moment he saw red. “I’m REALLY getting sick about hearing that man’s god-damned... name...” Alloy said as he began to push himself to his feet. He held out his hand and watched as his skin... Turned liquid and the pain returned... But it wasn’t from the shock-collar, in fact, Banshee took it off of him.

He could... Try and change form, but only seconds after the change started he felt his chest tighten and his breathing seize-... Like a heart-attack.

“... What did you do?”

“... I gave your heart a jump-start... Your ability to change forms relies completely on your ability to breathe less via your skin... Well. Really hard to do that if you have arrhythmia.” Banshee bent down to him. “You won’t ever be able to use your quirk without hurting yourself ever again.”

Moments later the sound of police-sirens from outside could be heard.

“Hail to the queen, Alloy.”

[sassycassie-s-writing]

The Princess and the Twins

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Steve Rogers/Captain America

Rating: PG

Original Idea: Single Parent!AU, y’all!

Notes: (Masterlist)(About Me) This is the second LOOOOONG one in a row. (That I wrote not posted.) Wow. It just kinda ran away from me. @steverogersnotebook This is the one I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to finish! (That title sounds like a band name.)

^^^^^

I sat on the bench at the station, waiting for my train. With headphones in and a sad song playing, I stared at the ground. It was my weekly existential crisis of oh-boy-what-am-I-doing-with-my-life time so I was completely lost in my own little world.

Until a little blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl boosted herself up onto the bench right next to me. She was probably four.

I paused my music and pulled my headphones out, shoving them into my bag.

“Hello,” I greeted, slightly awkwardly, as I looked around for her parents or guardians or whatever—some adults who she was with.

With any luck this kid had been taught Stranger Danger and wouldn’t say much to me, but would let me help her find her grownups while sitting on the same bench. She wasn’t crying so I assumed she hadn’t gotten lost, per se. She probably ran off, distracted by a butterfly in her mind, since the station was indoors.

“Are you a princess?” she asked me.

I looked down at her, confused but also amused, and finally got a good look at her. She was wearing an American flag shirt, frilly denim skirt with cotton shorts underneath, and Velcro kids’ Converse. There was some glittery face paint of a star on her cheek farthest away from me and she had sparkly red nail polish on her tiny fingernails.

Raising my eyebrows, I smiled at her. “Am I a princess?” I repeated back at her cheerfully. “Why do you think I’m a princess?”

“Because princesses are always the prettiest ladies! And princesses wear pretty dresses!”

I tucked the skirt of my dress slightly under my leg and put my hand on my chest. “Aw! You’re so cute. And I’ll tell you a secret.” I bent forward a little in a non-threatening way. “I am a princess!” I stage-whispered near her ear. My whole grownup life I’d done my best to encourage imagination in the children around me—my neighbors’ kids and grandkids, my nieces and nephews, my young cousins—because I felt like imagination was a resource that some people were losing but other people never ran out of.

The little girl gasped. “You are?!” she stage-whispered back in awe.

“Yes I am. But you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“RED!” a frantic voice shouted.

The girl and I looked up, following the sound.

A handsome, six-foot-two, muscular-as-heck man pushed his way through the small crowd at the station towards us, carrying another little girl in one arm. He had the same blond hair and blue eyes as the girl sitting next to me.

When he broke through the line of people separating us from him, the girl next to me hopped down from the bench. “Dad!” she squealed excitedly, running over to him.

“Red, honey, you can’t go wandering off like that! You scared me!” the man admonished gently, picking her up in his other arm. The second little girl was probably the same age as the first, but looked frail and younger. She had brown hair and brown eyes. Her eyes were sharp even if her legs and arms were thin for being around four.

“But, but, Dad! I found a princess!” Red told the man. He looked past her small face at me. I gave an awkward single wave, just tilting my wrist down and setting my hand back on my leg. The man approached me.

“I am so sorry if she was bothering you. She’s a bit of a handful. They both are.”

I shrugged. “It’s no problem. She was no bother. I have a lot of experience with kids.”

“See, Dad?” Red pressed, trying for quiet and utterly failing. Kids were so cute. “She’s in a pretty dress, she’s pretty, and she told me she was a princess!”

“I see that, sweetheart,” the man acknowledged. He turned back to me. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He paused for a moment. “Uh… I’d shake your hand, but… my hands are full.” He looked at his hands as he spoke, each cradling one of his daughters.

I laughed and stood up, slinging my bag securely onto my shoulder. “It’s fine. A slight breach of etiquette for a good reason is no breach of etiquette at all to me,” I dismissed.

Red didn’t like being ignored, apparently, and Steve wasn’t picking up on what she was trying to say. “Dad!” she complained. “You’re a king! So you have to marry a princess to have a queen!” Her tone was full of a “duh!” tone.

Steve blushed. “Sorry,” he muttered to me. “Ever since their mom died, Red here has been determined to find me a new ‘queen.’”

I chuckled. “No problem. She’s cute.”

“Dad!” Red protested. “She’s the first princess we’ve met! Aren’t you going to at least try to make her your queen?”

“Red, sweetheart, how about I give her my phone number, and she gives me hers, and then I can let her see if she would like to meet me again?”

“Okay!” Red replied brightly.

Steve sighed and gave me a small grin as I pulled out my phone. “I’ll forgive you if you just tell me your number instead of typing it into my phone yourself,” I commented casually, creating a new contact and writing Steve into the first-name section with an American Flag emoji next to it, taking a context clue for me later from Red’s outfit.

He recited his phone number as I plugged it in, and then showed him to make sure I got it right.

“That’s it,” he informed me.

I sent him a text with my name. “And now you have mine.”

“Daddy?” the other little girl asked. “Why didn’t Auntie Nat come with us?”

“Because she wanted to stay with her other nieces and nephews for another couple days. But I wish she’d come with us because then I’d have someone else to watch you two crazy kids,” Steve replied.

“Well, what train are you on?” I wondered.

“The eleven-twenty back to New York.”

“Hey so am I. If you want, I can sit by you and keep an eye on these two. I promise I’m not a kidnapper or anything.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t ask you to—”

“Nonsense. If I spend the ride alone I’ll just listen to music and fall into the void of What-am-I-doing-with-my-life. I’d be happy to help.”

“Well… if you really wouldn’t mind…” Steve began.

“She wouldn’t!” Red put in enthusiastically.

Her frail little sister rolled her eyes.

“Red, leave that up to the princess,” Steve chastised gently. Red pouted.

“Well she’s right. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, then, princess, if you’d care to join us, I’d love to escort you to the train.”

I chuckled and readjusted my bag strap on my shoulder. “I’d consider it an honor, Your Majesty,” I remarked, taking his awkwardly-offered elbow. We strolled through the station towards the train we’d be getting on. I noticed that Steve had two little backpacks slung over his shoulders that I hadn’t seen before.

“So, this is Red,” I began, nodding at the blonde little girl. “But I don’t think you told me your name, sweetpea.” I looked at the brunette entreatingly.

Wide-eyed, she looked to her dad. He smiled and nodded. “You can tell her, honey,” he murmured.

“Peggy,” the little girl told me.

Steve grinned. “Their real names are Sarah and Margaret,” he explained. “Sarah was my mother’s name. But this little one’s favorite color is red so her uncle started calling her Red and it stuck.” He gave Red a pointed glance so I knew which twin he was talking about.

I nodded understandingly. “I see. I like Red. It’s a fun nickname.”

We reached the train. Steve jumped over the gap between the platform and the interior with ease, set Red down, and offered me his hand. I took it and let him help me hop the gap myself before he scooped his obviously-more-adventurous daughter back up. “Let’s go find some seats,” he told his girls. Peggy gave a tiny little nod and Red smiled widely with a more enthusiastic nod. I followed them down the aisle of the train until Steve found an open booth with a little table and four seats. “Here alright?” he asked me.

“Of course,” I answered.

“Mind if Red sits by you next to the window so she doesn’t run off?”

I laughed and held my hands out for the blonde twin. “Not at all.” She leaned towards me. I took her in my arms and set her down on the seat next to the window before taking the aisle seat for myself. Peggy sat across from her sister and Steve sat across from me. Red blabbered about “Uncle Bucky” and “Uncle Sam”—the latter of which made me furrow my eyebrows and think of those I Want YOU posters that turned into memes—for a while and Peggy doodled on a little notebook covered in scribbles.

“Princess?” Red asked after a couple minutes, poking me in the leg.

“Yes, sweetpea?”

“What’s it like running a kingdom?”

“It’s a lot of hard work—and I’m still learning how to do it—but it makes me a good leader and a thoughtful person. I have to carefully consider my actions and make the best decisions I can with what I have to work with. It’s not an easy job, but it is a good job.”

Red watched with rapt attention—even Peggy looked up from her notebook. Steve was grinning between me and his daughter.

I felt my phone buzz in my purse.

You certainly have a way with kids. It was from Steve.

I smiled across the table at him and shrugged. “I have a lot of kids in my family that I interact with,” I explained.

“Would you mind, I don’t know, maybe joining me for dinner some night so I can thank you for being so good to these two today—assuming I can find a babysitter?”

Peggy perked up. “Auntie Nat?” she asked.

“Or Uncle Tony!” Red put in excitedly.

“Not Uncle Tony,” Steve told his blonde daughter. “Last time I let him tend you two he let you play with tools and Peggy almost took her eye out.” Red drooped a little but agreed that wasn’t a good thing.

“I’d love to go to dinner with you whenever you can find a babysitter. I’m free most nights anyway,” I told Steve quietly. He smiled.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Red started to stare out the window and Peggy went back to drawing. They were cute kids—and they had a very handsome dad. I was trying not to notice, but come on, how could one not notice? He was tall, blond, and chiseled.

Steve and I talked quietly during the ride, swaying with the movement of the train. I didn’t want the ride to end. It was just… nice. Pleasant. I hadn’t had such a good conversation with someone I’d just met in a long time. He was just easy to talk to. He had a good personality and when he listened to me talk I felt like he was really listening.

But all good things had to end. Eventually, with screeching brakes that made all four of us cringe, the train ground to a halt in the Big Apple. We were home.

After Steve and I got the girls off the train, he shook my hand. “I look forward to taking you out to dinner.”

“I look forward to joining you,” I replied.

Red looked up at me. “It was nice to meet you, princess,” she offered.

I smiled. “It was lovely to meet you as well.”

Peggy just gave me a timid wave from her dad’s arm. I waved back.

Steve took Red’s hand and the three of them went off in the opposite direction to me.

I smiled as I headed home. I liked Steve and his daughters. I couldn’t guarantee our date would go anywhere, but I kinda hoped it would. Poor guy. Single dad raising two daughters all on his own—and at such a young age too!—couldn’t have been easy.

Yeah. If the date went somewhere, maybe one day I could be the queen to his king, as Red suggested.

[margoshansons]

The Killing Kind (3/?)

Summary: Y/N and her father have always had one problem getting in the way of their relationship, and it all comes back to one source, her mother. Despite the mutation, Y/N wants to leave every aspect of that part of her life behind, but her father has other plans that rely on it.

Warning: Hella angst, especially parent related. Mild panic attack. TW: Manipulation and slight parent on child violence and TW: Abuse

Notes: This does, in fact, confirm that Y/N does have powers, and if you don’t like that twist then feel free to ask to be removed from the tag list. I chose this twist because I wanted to explore their relationship on that level, and I will not be changing it going forward. Also, holy fuck that gif DOES THINGS to me.

“What the hell do you want?” (Y/N) snapped, her eyes narrowing at the man before her, unable to fathom how he discovered her hiding place. 

Quentin tilted his head in a mock gesture of hurt, “Can’t a father visit his daughter anymore?”

(Y/N) scoffed, “You lost that right when you forced me into your schemes.”

She threw another manifested dagger at the approaching figure, watching as he dodged it once more, clicking his tongue at the poor attempt. 

“I see you’ve allowed your powers to grow weak” Quentin chastised, “Do you even remember our practice sessions?”

(Y/n) readied another dagger in her hand, “I remember enough” her hand was stopped by his palm wrapping around her wrist, causing the dagger to dissipate, unable to recall how he’d gotten over so fast. 

Her father towered over her, his bright eyes alight with mania, eyebrows lifted in a familiar expression she had seen many times during their ‘practice sessions’. He was chastising her once more, telling her that she had let him down. Again. 

“I remember nothing I ever did was good enough for you” (Y/N) strained, trying to rip her wrist out of his tight grip. “I remember you using me for your own sick weaponized project,”

“Only after the incident” Quentin defended.

“As if that made any difference,” (Y/n) continued to struggle her sunken eyes meeting her father’s crazed gaze as he threw her aside. “I was fourteen!” She screamed, massaging her wrist, “I was fourteen and you treated me like I was a piece of technology rather than your own daughter!”

“You had a gift!” Quentin replied, trying to excuse his actions, “I was helping you discover its purpose”

(Y/N) scoffed, shaking her head, “Really? Because if I recall correctly all you could think about was how I was born with this monstrosity and you weren’t”

Quentin moved forward, “Don’t call it that. You have something our family has only ever dreamed of having, and if it wasn’t for your damn mother maybe we all could’ve had it too.”

“Don’t” (Y/N) growled, voice thick with emotion, “Don’t you dare talk about her.”

Quentin closed more space between him and his daughter, anger meeting crazy in his eyes. “She left us. If she hadn’t maybe I wouldn’t have had to use you as much as I did.” He stepped forward again, digging the dagger deeper, “Maybe if you had been enough, she would’ve stayed.”

(Y/N) moved backward, tears threatening to escape at the emotional accusation. Did he think she hadn’t thought of that? That she hadn’t spent the first fourteen years of her life searching for the woman who had given her these abilities that he resented so much? That she wanted answers, same as him? 

Quentin scrunched his nose and set his jaw at the movement. His towering frame sauntered over, the last of the church light illuminating the hard look on his face, staring down at her. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Could’ve fooled me” (Y/N) grumbled.

Quentin took a quick look around the church before meeting his daughter’s eyes once again. “Don’t go on the trip tomorrow”

“What?” (Y/N) shook her head, making sure she was hearing him right. 

The crazy drained from Quentin’s face, “Despite what you may think, I do care about you. You’re my daughter. You’re family. Why else would I be keeping tabs on you like this?”

(Y/n) shrugged, “To try and recruit me back into your schemes.”

“I’m doing it to protect you (Y/N)!” Quentin shouted, his voice echoing up to the belltower. “I’m doing it because I care about you.”

(Y/N) scoffed, not believing any of the lies that dripped from his mouth. Her dad had never cared about anyone but himself. She knew that for a fact. This was just another attempt to try and control her, well she wouldn’t fall for it. He’d done this gambit too many times, and she’d fallen for it too many times.

“Thanks for the warning” (Y/N) responded coldly, “Now get out.”

“(Y/N)--”

“I said get out” She warned, gathering a ball of blue energy in her palms, ready to launch at her father if he so much as breathed on her. 

Quentin nodded slowly, understanding her meaning as he retreated to the open doors at the front of the church. He stopped at the open door, sending one last warning her way, “Please, Don’t go to Europe, promise me.”

She hesitated slightly before blue shot out of her palm, latching onto the door and shutting it in his face. 

(Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing onto the withered altar stairs, gripping her knees, ignoring the throbbing pain in her wrist. 

Breathe in five.

Hold for six.

Breathe out seven.

She repeated the mantra three more times before throwing a sweater over her head and slipping her sneakers on, her feet carrying her to her own entryway. She climbed the scaffolding above her, making sure to latch her feet in the right positions before continuing. Her wrist screamed in pain, but she only had one location on her mind as her feet hit the pavement. 

“Hey!” She yelled, hailing a taxi driver, “Can you get me to queens?” 

***

She sprinted up the staircase of the apartment building, landing on the third floor as her eyes searched the hallway for the treasured number. She needed to get there, she needed to talk to someone about anything, about this, about her dad’s stupid little--

Her own knock kicked her out of her thoughts, and the door swung open, revealing a confused May in her pajamas.

“(Y/N),” She asked, confusion turning to worry upon seeing the expression on the student’s face, “What’s going on, is everything okay?”

“It’s um..” She stuttered, unable to form sentences, “It’s uh...my dad, he uh, he visited me just now, um, a couple- a couple hours ago”

“Hey” May soothed, bringing in the girl for a hug, “Hey it’s going to be alright okay?” The older woman ran a hand through (Y/N)’s hair, untangling any knots that had formed. 

(Y/N) pulled away from the embrace, wiping away tears that she had accumulated on the ride here. “Thanks, May, I, uh, I needed that.”

May smiled, her eyes pitying the young girl before inviting her inside, promising a cup of tea and a listening ear.

 Part One Part Two Part Four

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[bikaelsons]

die easy

CHAPTER SIX ∙ 'cause I can't take it

note: yes this is a repost a month late, but what’s important to remember is that while i may be incompetent, i’m also an unmitigated disaster. as it turns out this chapter’s title was a prophecy of what it’d be like trying to post this monstrosity! i’m gonna go take a long bath

warnings: allusions to domestic violence, canon-typical violence, and katherine pierce removing her fake eyelashes (the last one made ... an impact)

<< previous chapter

ao3 link - tumblr masterlist

Matt ran red light after red light, screaming through corners and clipping hedges. More than one indignant jogger flipped him off as he tore past. He didn't care.

He pulled up at the Gilbert residence, scraping the wheels against the gutter. He bailed out, not bothering to lock the truck as he took off across the grass. The door was unlocked, but had it been otherwise he felt desperate enough to take it right off its hinges.

Caroline was in the living room, makeup smudged with tears and exhaustion. "Thank god," she breathed, and it was all she got out before Matt tackled her into a hug. When she continued, her voice was muffled against his chest. "I thought you might run over someone on your way here."

"I was careful," he lied, pulling back but keeping Caroline at arm's length. "Where—how—"

"Elena took him upstairs. She—" Caroline lowered her voice, mindful of vampire senses. "She thinks his ring will bring him back."

A spark of hope ignited in Matt's chest, quashed instantly by the subsequent realisation. "It only works on humans that are killed by supernaturals."

"And while Katherine is supernatural—"

"—so is Jer. Fuck." The hollow ache returned to Matt's chest, one he knew all too well. "I'll go talk to her."

Caroline nodded. "I'm gonna try calling Ty again."

Hugging her one last time, Matt left to give her some privacy.

 #

 Elijah had never much liked Pennsylvania. A discomforting encounter with Quakers way back when had cured him of any affection for the wretched state. The summers were unbearably humid, somehow worse than any he'd experienced in Louisiana. How many suits had he ruined with sweat in this awful piece of country?

To be fair, though, he'd ruined more with blood.

Setting aside his prejudice, as a learned man was wont to do, Elijah forced himself past the border and deeper into the state. The coordinates Allie had provided took him west to a small, armpit of a town that already festered with the coming summer.

(It was lovely, but he was in no state to acknowledge that.)

The town's hub of activity was a stretch of cafes and antique stores in a short street adjacent to the main one, and it was there that Elijah found himself. He bypassed the juice bar for a more traditional diner with checkered linoleum and a jukebox he was willing to compel them all not to touch. He ordered a black coffee and sat on a stool that creaked beneath him, the entire set-up a mockery of a bar. Even the smooth, plastic countertop beneath his fingers was red and sparkling clean to aid the sliding of milkshake glasses to eager customers.

Elijah accepted his coffee from one of the workers, a pimpled man with a nametag that read RANDY and who'd known every other customer by name, and who drawled at Elijah, "New in town?"

"Is it obvious?" Elijah replied, gesturing to his suit. Everyone else was dressed like they were going to the beach, except for the uniformed workers at table No. 9.

"Yeah, you don't look like the regular folk, unless you're a real estate agent."

Elijah returned the man's smile despite having seen such a real estate agent setting up fliers on his way here, an agent who had been wearing a polo shirt under his suit jacket. "I'm here looking for a friend, actually."

"Who? Maybe it's someone I know."

Elijah pulled his phone from his pocket, first noting the absence of messages from Matthew, then tapping in his code and bringing up the picture of Elena he'd filched from the Mystic Falls High website for this exact purpose. She wasn't who he was looking for, but they were quite literally doppelgangers. "This woman," he said, showing the phone to the worker.

The worker leaned in close, squinting at the picture. "Can't say I've met her. Maybe you could ask around, though?"

"Perhaps. I was told she'd made herself quite a fixture in the town." Actually, Allie's exact words had been She's talking like she's the fucking queen boss, Uncle. "If you see anyone matching her description, do let her know I'm looking for her." It could make her run, but it could also draw her out enough for a conversation. Elijah was willing to take the risk.

"I sure will," the worker affirmed. He leaned back over his shoulder and yelled, "Going on break, boss!" then tossed his dishtowel over one shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen.

Elijah checked once more for notifications, then switched his phone off and returned it to his pocket. He shouldn't be this anxious really—Matthew had told him to leave, and he'd been right. It was time for Elijah to stop hanging onto his brother's apron strings. The solution to this was, of course, to track down the woman that had ruined his relationship with his brother to begin with.

By the time Elijah finished his (annoyingly decent) coffee he'd well and truly talked himself into a mood. So it wasn't really his fault he didn't notice someone was following him out of the diner until he was three streets away from the main action and their heels kept clicking on the sidewalk in a syncopated rhythm to compliment his.

He glanced over his shoulder quickly, finding no one there and the sound gone. Attuning his senses, Elijah froze. The scent wasn't like Katherine's—he knew that too well to be mistaken—but it was female and vampiric.

"I know you're there," Elijah announced in a cool tone. "Playing games will not end well for you."

“You're looking for Katherine," said the woman, her accent a crisp, almost too-perfect British.

Elijah tried to attune his hearing, to seek out a heartbeat, some whisper of breath in lungs, but found nothing. "And you can help me."

"Perhaps."

"If you could show yourself, I'd appreciate it."

"Why? Can't you find my heart, Elijah Mikaelson?"

He'd already been irritated; now he was what the Americans so aptly referred to as pissed. Which didn't help, because the roaring of blood in his ears only made it harder to pick out her location. Even her scent was difficult to negotiate among the alley they'd found themselves in, all sorts of unsavoury scents occupying his olfactory senses.

"Is she here?"

"So what if she is?"

It took conscious effort to un-grit his teeth. "I am not one to be run around by childish games. Either tell me where to find Katerina or I will leave."

Silence. Then, a heartbeat. It began slowly, quickening to a more normal rate and coming with breaths and the sound of heels on a brick rooftop. Elijah looked up to see a vampire loom above him, short and round in stature and with short, pin-straight hair. She stepped from the rooftop as though she were descending a staircase, landing on the ground in front of him like the jump had been nothing at all.

"You stopped your heart," Elijah said, stepping back to survey her.

She dusted off her dusky pink cardigan with a few stiff, practiced movements, then turned her gaze on him. Something about it was unnerving, exacting. "I did."

"And you are?"

"Juliana Porter. I work with Miss Pierce."

With, not for. An interesting word choice, and a deliberate one, too, if her meticulous nature so far had been any indication.

"She's here, then?"

"Not presently, but she sends her apologies. She has been waiting for you, but other matters took her away."

"Why has she been waiting for me?" And how did she know I would come?

"I think you know the answer to that, Mr Mikaelson. Now, would you like me to show you to your room?"

Elijah raised an eyebrow. "I have a room?"

"But of course." Juliana's grin was large enough to show the place in her gums where her fangs laid in wait, just barely pressing against the pink. "Like I said: Katherine has been waiting for you."

 #

 Matt had seen too many dead bodies.

One could argue that one dead body was too many, but Matt did feel like he could almost have handled that. Maybe.

Who was he kidding? He could barely handle seeing undead bodies.

Now he was seeing both dead and undead: Elena, undead and perched beside Jeremy, dead and laid out on his bed as though he were only sleeping after all.

"I know what they're saying," Elena said, breaking the silence. "I'm not crazy."

Matt swallowed the lump in his throat. "No one's saying you're crazy."

"Just that I'm wrong." Elena's thumb brushed over the Gilbert ring on Jeremy's hand, fingernail catching on the blue stone.

"He's not human anymore, Elena. He stopped being human as soon as we activated his Hunter's curse." Just like werewolves, it was the first kill that brought a hunter out to play. The first vampire Jeremy had slain sealed his fate.

Elena shook her head. "Just—shut up, okay? He's gonna be fine. Everything's gonna be fine."

And though Matt knew otherwise, he sat beside Elena and tucked an arm around her.

Maybe things would be better once the Salvatores got back.

 #

 The room Juliana took Elijah to was exactly to his taste, from the plush, navy rug to the mahogany end table to the precise threadcount on the Egyptian cotton sheets splashed over the memory foam mattress.

"Miss Katherine designed it for you especially," Juliana contributed from the doorway. "She said you'd come to find her."

Katherine always had been one step ahead of them. Elijah had long since given up on figuring out how she managed it. And though part of him wanted to run contrary to her assumptions, to not be kept waiting like some insect in amber until Katherine saw fit to fetch him ... this was what he'd come here for.

"Shall I ask the kitchens to draw you some tea?"

Elijah turned back to face Juliana. For someone that had been so adamant about working with Katherine, not for her, she was sure behaving like a maidservant. "No," said Elijah. "I think some rum will suit me better."

Juliana raised an eyebrow. "Right you are, then. I'll leave you to it."

She departed, shutting the door behind her and leaving Elijah alone in the space his oldest love had carved for him.

 #

 Matt set the coffee cup down beside Caroline and slid into the booth across from her. "Still nothing from Ty?"

Caroline shook her head, setting her phone down. "Radio silence. I guess Klaus really got to him."

"He'll come around."

"Nope," said Caroline, popping the 'p' and bringing her coffee up under her nose. "I think the point of leaving was that he's never coming around again."

"He won't abandon you."

"I told him to go. We agreed it was for the best. Said goodbye and everything."

Funny, since Ty hadn't seen fit to show Matt the same courtesy. A dead best friend and one that might as well be dead, too. Fitting.

"I'm sorry," said Caroline, catching sight of Matt's face. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Matt bit out. I just picked a hell of a time to get rid of Elijah. Would he even care that Katherine had killed Jeremy? He had a history with her, Matt remembered. Then again, he had a history with Jeremy, the guy that killed Kol.

Once, just once, Matt would like to feel an uncomplicated emotion.

"You can talk to me." Caroline reached across the table to grab onto Matt's hand. "Jeremy meant a lot to you. And losing Ty, too ..."

Matt withdrew a little. "I'm fine."

Caroline seemed about to argue when her phone started ringing. She said, "Stefan," and picked it up hurriedly. "Is everything okay?"

Matt couldn't make out the voice on the other ended, but it didn't sound particularly thrilled. Not that it should.

"Oh. Oh." Tears welled up in Caroline's eyes like they belonged there, though she fought them valiantly, biting her lip and tensing her frame in an attempt to gain control. She met Matt's gaze as she told Stefan, "We'll be right there."

 #

 The Gilbert house was burning.

Caroline had to get creative in driving through the amassed crowd, and even then they could hardly get onto the street before they were stopped by a ring of firetrucks forming a barrier. A few hoses were going, trying to douse the flames, but it was too late for the house. Half of it had crumbled before Matt even got out of the car.

The house he'd spent his entire childhood in was becoming a husk before his eyes.

Caroline grabbed his wrist and pulled him past the firetrucks, breathing, "Elena." They pushed forward to get to the Salvatores and Elena, who stood on a neighbouring lawn. Damon was blank-faced, Stefan was grim, and Elena ...

Matt stepped forward, trying to get her attention. She watched the fire with a neutral expression, her tears long since dried by the warmth. "He's inside," she said. "They're fighting because they think he's still alive."

Jeremy. They had to find a cover for his death. It was smart, if not horrible. "Are you ... okay?" Matt asked, hating how it sounded.

Elena looked away from the fire easily, turning on him with a blank expression. "I'm fine." She flicked her gaze to Damon. "Let's go."

To Matt's shock, Elena strode away, Damon trailing after her. He looked back over his shoulder to exchange a look with Stefan and was gone.

"What the hell was that?" Caroline demanded.

"That was Elena," Stefan answered. "Without her humanity."

 #

 The shower was just as luxurious as the bedroom had been, multiple nozzles and enough room for ten men to stand in. Elijah took more time than he needed, glad for the reprieve from motel showers.

The moment he turned the water off, Elijah knew she was back. Her scent reached him even through the steam, even as he heard her unmistakable heart beating outside.

He took his time drying off, shaving meticulously, and slipping on silk pyjama pants and one of the bathrobes provided. Katherine also seemed to be stalling, only just crossing the threshold as Elijah finished in the bathroom. He heard her farewell Juliana, who she seemed on good terms with. He heard her curse under her breath as she removed her heels halfway up the stairs, stockinged toes sinking into the lush carpet.

He did love her. Each reminder of the affliction was another punch to the gut.

Katherine slowed as she passed his bedroom door but didn't quite stop. She picked up her pace and headed into her own room down the hall, leaving her door open. An invitation.

You've come this far, Elijah reasoned, tying his robe a little tighter, tucking his phone into the pocket. He headed down the hall and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe that thresholded her room, hoping the pattern of knocks sounded sufficiently bored and entirely undesperate.

He didn't wait for her invitation to enter—her bedroom was many things, but a human residence, it was not. He had no need for permission, and he knew for a fact that she would never give it. A verbal invitation sounded too much like a question, and a question permitted a response in the negative. Katerina Petrova was never denied.

She wasn't laid on the bed, as one might expect. Instead, she'd planted herself on the heavy leather chest at the foot of her bed, rubbing her now bare feet. Her shoes and stockings were in a pile at her feet, her trench coat draped beneath her like a skin easily shed. All she wore was a dress of the brightest blue, the kind that almost pulsed in the dim light.

"Hello, Katerina."

Her smile was guileless. "Elijah. So nice of you to join me."

Elijah leaned against the bed frame, ignoring the way her fingers dug into the arch of her foot, relieving a phantom ache that she didn't feel. She was a vampire, after all. The illusion of relaxation was just that—false. He wouldn't let it ease him. "Since you've had me waiting on you this past day, I'd say it is you that has joined me."

Katherine stood without warning, almost nose-to-nose with him in an instant. "We can join each other." She stepped away just as quickly, dissipating like a mist as she sat at her boudoir, shedding her dress on the way. She sat before it in a black slip only, facing her own reflection yet peering at him through the mirror.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," she said, tone nothing in the vicinity of apology. She pulled one string of false eyelashes off, slowly, tossing it aside. As she moved to give the other one the same treatment, she locked eyes with Elijah. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Your own foresight, if my room is any indication."

"Oh, do you like it?" she asked, voice muffled by the tissue she was wiping her lipstick off with.

"It's precisely my taste, as you know."

She turned over her shoulder to gift him a smile. There were flecks of lipstick staining her teeth, pink and sparkling where she'd pressed them there with the tissue. He doubted that was an accident, nor how swollen her lips looked after cleaning them. "How are you, Elijah?"

"Well enough."

"I heard you and Klaus had a falling out."

"One hears many things if they listen. Not all of them are true."

Katherine opened a drawer and retrieved a packet of what appeared to be wipes. She pulled one out and began rubbing it over her eyelids, the shimmering powder come off like a dusting of sand under a saltwater spray. "I lied," she admitted. "I didn't hear it. But I could see it in your eyes when you walked in, and I guessed it when I prepared your room for you. I've always known you, Elijah."

And there it was: the reason he'd come. The one thing he loathed her for was the one thing he needed her for the most. Even Matthew hadn't been able to see how scarcely Elijah was holding on.

"Am I to guess the nature of this falling out, or will you save me the trouble and regale me with another tale of Mikaelson woe?"

Elijah broke her gaze in the mirror, looking around the room instead. "It was the usual. Lack of cooperation, plotting without our knowledge. He faked his death this time, though. That hasn't happened before."

"It's not exactly beneath him, though, is it?"

Opting not to reply, Elijah scooped up the discarded dress and stockings, placing them in the laundry hamper just beside the bathroom door. He fetched the coat and heels and wandered into the adjoining walk-in wardrobe, finding their places easily: the coat among its sisters, the shoes in the only spare place along the floor. By the time he returned to the room, Katherine was finished, beaming at him with a youthfulness that was almost hard to look at.

She looked like Katerina. Sometimes, she was.

"Always cleaning up after me, Elijah," said Katerina, not budging an inch. "After all of us. You must be so exhausted." Where once her tone had been mocking, now it was only sincere.

Left with nothing else, Elijah had only the truth. "Why else would I come?"

"The same reason you always do."

Katerina extended her hand. Elijah took it.

 #

 Matt sunk into the sofa, the same place he'd always sat. He knew the Lockwood mansion better than his own home—had likely spent more time in it, most of his best memories either here or the Gilbert house. He was almost certain that the reason the sofa in the den molded so well to him was the impression his ass had left in its surface during thousands of hours of Call of Duty with Ty.

All that time, he'd never thought he'd own the place. But he did—in his name and everything.

Honestly, if you asked Matt, Ty could go fuck himself. Acting like the mansion was a substitute for friendship. It was almost 3am and Matt was alone, all alone, in a house that had never embraced a single owner in its entire span. Everyone here was lonely eventually; Matt had watched Ty's parents grow colder every year in it. He was convinced it was cursed.

But it was also all he had left.

Pulling out his phone, Matt scrolled through his contacts for a while, just watching the names spin by like the world's saddest slot machine. He'd really fucked up when he let Jeremy go to that island alone, when he'd accepted his non-invitation without a fight. For what? Time with Elijah and some useless memories he didn't know how to deal with?

Maybe there were some things you just weren't supposed to know. Maybe the fact that your ex-girlfriend fed on you and compelled you to forget multiple times, that your other ex-girlfriend almost killed you and let her current maybe-boyfriend compel away your memories and leave you for dead, that your friend had compelled you to forget your own sister's death ... maybe these were things Matt could have gone without knowing.

He did know he'd trade them in a second if he had half the chance.

Anger burning through him, Matt scrolled back through the names until he got to E. Pulling up his and Elijah's text messages, he found himself faced with the last few. All business, making plans to meet up, to get his memories fixed. Checking in on each other through drama after drama.

He wondered if Elijah knew that Jeremy was dead. Wondered if he cared.

Not giving himself a chance to think, Matt tapped out, Hey, where are you? He only barely stopped himself from sending it. What right did he have to ask? He'd sent Elijah away.

He'd sent everyone away.

 #

 Elijah stared at the bright rectangle of his screen in the dark.

No new messages.

Beside him in the bed, Katerina stirred. "'Lijah?" she whined, shielding her eyes from the light. "Something wrong?"

"No." Elijah clicked his phone off and set it on the nightstand. "Everything's fine. Go back to sleep."

Katerina hummed, reaching out to pull him to her. He went willingly, resting his cheek against her collarbone. He matched his breathing to hers until sleep took him.

 #

 Three days later, Elijah woke to his phone ringing. It was 3am and Katerina, who'd already shown her distaste for phones in the bedroom, groaned beside him.

"Sleep," Elijah told her, kissing her jaw and pulling the covers up. He swept up his phone, slipped on some pants and sped away, ending up down the street where the conversation wouldn't disturb his sleeping lover. And then he looked at the caller ID.

Answering in confusion, Elijah said, "Tam?"

"It's Lex."

"Lex? What are you doing with your mother's phone? Is everything all right?"

"Mom needs help. She won't call Grandma June, but she said I could call you."

"What happened?"

"She got hurt at work. Some guys came to the bar and stuff. She's in the hospital, and there's a lady here to take Dylan and me away."

"What lady?"

"She's a social worker. She says it's just to look after us while Mom's in the hospital, but she also asked a lot of questions about us being there when it happened."

"You were at the bar?" Of course they were. If childcare fell through, Tam couldn't just abandon her shift. Goddamit.

"Yeah. Can you please come? Dylan won't stop crying and Mom can't talk. I don't wanna go with the lady but she says we have to."

Elijah ran a hand over his face. "All right, Lex. I need you to tell the lady that I'm your uncle. Say I'm coming to look after you, so she won't need to."

"What if she doesn't believe me?"

"You can put me on the phone to her now, if you like. But you have to keep up the story, make sure she doesn't think we're lying. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Uncle Eli." Shuffling on the end of the phone. "My uncle wants to talk to you."

More shuffling, then a woman's voice. "Hello? This is Janet. Who is this?"

"I'm Elijah, the boys' uncle."

"I was unaware Tamara had a brother."

"Uncle on their father's side. I'll be by to take care of them soon. I'm in Pennsylvania at the moment, but I'm packing as we speak." A lie. He was standing shirtless in the middle of the street. "I appreciate you looking after the boys while I make my way there."

"Yes, well, anything to help. It's been a rather traumatic situation for them both, and I'm sure Tamara will appreciate your help. You can pick the boys up from the child protective services office on the main street."

"Thank you so much. Would you mind putting Lex back on the phone?"

"Of course.” More shuffling.

"Uncle Eli?"

"Lex. Janet is going to take you to her office, all right? I'll come by and pick you up before it's even light outside."

"What about Mom?"

"I'll make sure she's okay just as soon as I get you and Dylan sorted. She'd want you to take care of yourselves first. Do you understand?"

"I guess."

"Keep your mother's phone on you so you can call me if anything changes. I'll see you soon, all right?"

"All right."

With a beep, Lex hung up.

"Sounds like an interesting kid."

Elijah forced himself not to jump. "Hello, Juliana."

She emerged from the dark, heart resuming its beating. He'd have to ask her how she managed that. "So, you're leaving, then?"

"I have matters to attend to. I'll leave a note for Katherine."

"Don't bother." Juliana smirked. "I'll be sure to give her the full story. Have fun on your little trip."

She flashed away without a word, leaving Elijah alone in the cobblestone street.

 #

 Elijah did, in fact, leave a note for Katerina. It was simple and without flowery sentiment—just the way they both preferred. He drove the entire way to Maryland in silence, hands clenching and unclenching on the wheel.

The Child Protective Services Office was a squat, brown-bricked building with a gravel parking lot inserted out back. It was empty but for one vehicle, presumably Janet's, and most of the lights inside were off.

The doors were locked, as was probably sensible, so Elijah rapped on the frame until a middle-aged woman appeared, her blue eyes watery—perhaps from crying, perhaps because they were just always like that. She unlocked the door quickly and offered him her hand to shake. The wall of warm air and peach-scented perfume hit Elijah like a physical force, almost knocking him back a step.

"Janet Payne," she introduced herself. "You must be Elijah?"

Elijah shook her hand and nodded.

"Please, come on in. I'll take you to the boys."

She led him in past the front desk, one with a perspex barrier and only a slot to pass paper back in forth through. Elijah imagined one would come in handy if he ever reconciled with his family. The 'TAKE A NUMBER AND WAIT YOUR TURN' sign had its own appeal as well.

The boys were in a room brimming with toys that looked like they'd seen better days. Then again, so did the boys. Lex's hair was sticking up at all sides and Dylan's mouth was ringed with something white and foamy, perhaps ... ice cream? They were both in desperate need of baths, fresh clothes, and haircuts. Only two of those were an easy fix.

"Elijah!" said Lex, standing up upon spotting him. He seemed unsure of how to react, whether to go for a hug or what. Knowing that Janet watched on, Elijah stooped down to embrace Lex himself. The assertion that they needed baths was confirmed by closer proximity.

"Come on," said Elijah. "Pack up your things and let's get going."

"I'll need you to sign some paperwork first," said Janet.

Elijah turned to her, catching her eye carefully. "If you check again, I'm sure you'll find that everything is in order."

She blinked heavily, compulsion falling over her mind like a soft blanket, and said, "Of course."

"Come now, boys," Elijah directed over his shoulder. "Let's get going."

 #

 As it turned out, Lex and Dylan were very well-behaved for relative strangers. Lex wasn't entirely trusting, but he seemed to have gauged Elijah as their only viable option while Tam was still in hospital.

Dylan crashed in his bed just after Lex gave him a bath. Elijah didn't interfere; young children were particularly difficult when they deviated from routine, and Elijah had no intention of triggering a tantrum. The only child he'd interacted with in recent memory was Allie, and they'd been a nightmare to deal with at times.

With Dylan in bed, Lex sought Elijah for more food and company. Elijah had pulled together what he could from the kitchen—some eggs on toast, as it was almost breakfast time. Lex didn't seem all that tired, though.

"When are we going to go see Mom?" he asked through his egg.

"Once your brother wakes. I called the hospital to make sure they told her you're with me."

Lex nodded and set his cutlery down to pick up his toast and start chewing on it. "Where did you go?"

"I had family business to attend to."

"What kind of business?"

"The difficult kind."

Lex considered him. "Do you have kids?"

"No. I have siblings, though." And that's sometimes the same thing. "Why weren't you with your babysitter last night?" Tam should have had the money for it. Elijah had compelled her a raise, after all.

"Mom caught the sitter stealing some of her clothes last week. She hasn't found a new one yet."

People really were heathens sometimes, Elijah concluded.

"Are you gonna leave again?" Lex asked. There was nothing in his tone to indicate how he felt about it—he certainly wasn't upset, in any case. And why should he be? He barely knew Elijah.

"Not until I know everything's all right."

"Why can't you just stay?"

"Because I have things to do, Lex."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm ... a writer." The lie came easily; he'd used it most recently, when trying to worm his way into the Gilberts' lives. Just a writer researching Mystic Falls history, he'd told Jenna. He wondered if his lie hurried her death at his brother's hand.

"That's cool, I guess," Lex said boredly, playing with his now soggy toast.

Elijah stifled a laugh. Children were always good for the ego.

"You should get some rest," said Elijah. "Your mother will want to know you're doing well when she sees you."

"I'm not tired, though."

"Don't lie. I know you yawned when you were coming down the hallway. Finish your toast and get some sleep."

Lex didn't complain, but Elijah could tell he wanted to. "I'm not hungry," he said instead.

"Good. Brush your teeth. I'll wake you in a few hours."

"What if it's not visiting hours at the hospital?"

"I'm sure we'll figure something out. Go on, now."

Lex shot him one last look before wandering off down the hall, leaving Elijah with the half-eaten toast and an uncomfortable silence.

 #

 The hours passed slowly, Elijah monitoring the boys in the back of his mind. Dylan stayed right out until mid-morning, but Lex tossed and turned for the better part of three hours before he drifted off.

Entertaining Dylan wasn't difficult, much to Elijah's relief. He mostly drank from juice boxes and watched TV; neither of these things were strictly healthy, but Elijah didn't know enough about Tam's rules to enforce them. He allowed it, listening closely from the next room in case he was needed.

Lex didn't need waking. He rolled out of bed after a meagre two hours of rest, as grouchy as the teenager he would be in a few short years. He dressed both Dylan and himself, barely stopping to eat before insisting on going to see his mother.

Elijah drove with the radio on, something he rarely did. The music was annoying, but Dylan knew one or two songs and Lex seemed content to just be.

The hospital wasn't busy, thank god. It was a small-town one with barely enough room for two ambulances in the bay. There was only one nurse working the front desk—an older woman in purple, flowery scrubs. Her breath smelled like the egg she'd had for breakfast.

"Well, hi, there," she cooed, looking down at Dylan and Lex. "Everything all right, folks?"

"We're here to see Tamara Knight. She was brought in last night, injured in a bar fight."

"You a relative?"

"Her brother."

The nurse clicked at her computer for a moment. "Yep, here she is. Room 204. Go down the hall, turn left, then right, then left again. You should find her easy enough."

"Thank you."

Elijah led the boys down the way the nurse had said, but he didn't need the directions. He could hear Tam's breathing, her heartbeat—he could smell her scent. They arrived at her door, 204, and Lex knocked without being asked.

"Come in!"

Lex opened the door, making way for Dylan to dart in toward his mother. She reached over the edge of her bed and took him into her arms.

"Careful," Elijah cautioned, drawing Tam's gaze to him. Her eyes caught Elijah's, sharp, then turned to Lex as she motioned him closer. The three of them embraced, and Elijah ducked out, closing the door behind him.

 #

 Half an hour later, Lex poked his head out to find Elijah standing in the hall. "Mom wants to talk to you. I'm s'posed to take Dylan to the vending machine for some food."

"Do you have money?"

"Duh. Come on, Dylan." Lex pulled Dylan along down the hall in search of food, leaving the door wide open for Elijah to step through.

Inside, Tam was sitting up in her bed. She looked brighter than she had when he caught a glimpse of her earlier, some more colour in her cheeks, brighter light behind her eyes. She wasn't hooked up to any machines or drips, though there was a band aid over the back of her left hand.

"How are you feeling?" Elijah asked, sitting down beside her.

"Fine. I had a slight concussion, but they said I should be out by tonight."

Elijah could smell the blood on her, so he kept staring until she continued, "And there's a cut on the back of my shoulder. Not too deep, but they stitched it up." She motioned to her shoulder, the bandages rustling as she moved. They were mostly out of sight but made her hospital gown look bulky.

"What happened last night? Lex said you were attacked by some man."

"Yeah, just a regular patron."

Elijah stared at her, unimpressed.

"What?" asked Tam, raising her arms innocently. "It's true. He's in there all the time." She sighed. "But we also dated."

"And was his anger at you related to his patronage or your relationship?"

"The latter."

"I trust he's in custody?"

"Yeah, but he won't stay that way. His brother's one of the deputies. Gets him off for everything—DUIs, drunken disorderlies, all of it."

"He won't be this time."

"You sound so certain."

"I am. What else can I do for you?"

"Nothing, really. You already took the boys."

"You don't sound entirely comfortable with that."

Tam shook her head. "Lex was right to call you. There wasn't another option. I just didn't sleep well knowing my kids were in the care of a relative stranger."

"Would you have preferred I leave them with social services?" Elijah intended it as a genuine question. "If so, I apologise, but the situation as it was communicated to me—"

“No, it's fine. They would've looked the kids up, called their grandmother."

"Yes, the famed 'Grandma June'. Your mother or their father's?"

"Mine."

"You were seriously injured in a bar fight. Your mother has no place in this?"

"If she set foot in this town, she'd be reporting me to social services."

"She'd incite a custody battle?"

"She'd win it, too. She's got money, a nice house, a good name, a college education. I've got a record for solicitation and I just got glassed in a fight with an ex-boyfriend while my children cowered under the bar I work at." Tam laughed bitterly. "Maybe they'd be better off with her."

"Do you believe that?"

"I hated living with her, but I might've hated living like this, too."

"You love your sons more than she ever will."

"Love isn't always enough."

"Not always, no." Elijah thought of Niklaus, begging him to free him from his chains with their father beat him, while their mother cursed him. He thought of Rebekah suffering at Niklaus' hand again and again while Elijah watched on. He thought of Marcel, the boy they rescued and left to Niklaus to ruin. "You have to choose whether you allow yourself to be their mother or a spectator in their upbringing. Choose wisely, and choose quickly, because there are two police officers sixty seconds away from arriving at this door to question you over last night's events."

Tam's eyes widened. "How do you—"

"I just know. Choose, Tam. They have your police records, they know who you are, and they have the power to report you to the relevant bodies. Choose what you want me to help you achieve."

"I can't." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't stop this from going wrong."

"Do you want me to? I can make this all go away."

"I ... I don't know. What would you do?"

"This isn't up to me, Tam. Now, tell me—what do you want?"

The door opened, revealing Lex and Dylan. Dylan wandered right in to show his mother the bag of cheetos from the vending machine, but Lex stayed rooted in place, looking down the hall at the approaching police officers.

"That looks yum, baby," Tam told Dylan absently. "How about you go and get some real food with Elijah and your brother, huh?"

"Tam, I can stay—"

"No, Elijah." Tam met his gaze. "I have some things to take care of."

The officers arrived at the door, Lex still staring up at them.

"Tamara Knight?" asked one of them, fingers hooked into his belt.

Lex stepped away from them, back into the room. "Mom?"

"It's fine, sweetie. You're going to lunch with Uncle Elijah while I talk to the officers about last night, okay?"

"Can't I stay?"

"We'll come right back," Elijah assured him. "I swear."

Lex didn't repeat his protests, eyeing the police officers with trepidation as Elijah led him out.

 #

 Lunch was awkward. Dylan picked an ice cream shop that Elijah didn't have the presence of mind to argue against. Lunch became sundaes and being babysat by "Uncle Elijah" turned into an hour long sugar high that Elijah didn't dare bring back to the hospital.

It was Lex's suggestion, going to the park. He seemed to have inferred the need to fill in time, and having Dylan burn off the high was only a positive. Elijah sat on a bench beside a breastfeeding woman while he watched the boys. Dylan raced around the equipment, Lex following him with a watchful eye.

Elijah's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, finding himself facing a raunchy selfie of Katerina. He had no idea when she'd had a chance to enter her new number and add a contact photo, and he didn't have the presence of mind to wonder. The woman on the bench beside him must have seen the image, too, as she slid away from him a fraction and tightened her grip on the baby.

So, really, Elijah could hardly be blamed for answering the phone with a curt, "Hello."

"You don't sound as happy about my new contact photo as I thought you would."

"You don't ask for permission as much as I think you should."

"Because it's boring. Where are you?"

"Did Juliana not fill you in?"

"She said something about Maryland, some kid calling you. Care to fill me in? Oh, thank you, Randy,” Katerina cooed, taking a long sip of something.

"You're at the diner."

"And you travelled interstate. Spill."

Elijah hesitated. Trusting Katerina had never ended well for anyone, and he had no intention of falling back into old habits. Had he known Juliana was listening to his conversation the night before, he'd have found somewhere else to talk. As it was, Katerina had caught a scent and she had no intention of letting it slip away. "Can we discuss it when I get back?"

"When will that be?"

"Soon." Elijah got the sense that Tam didn't like having him watch the boys, and if she was doing what he thought she was then how she felt wouldn't matter much longer anyway. "I'll update you when I know more. Things are ... complicated."

"Then tell me. Maybe I can help."

"Not to doubt your skills, Katerina, but I doubt there's anything here that you can handle that I cannot. It's all rather ..." Elijah watched Lex help Dylan onto the see-saw. "Mundane."

Katerina chuckled. "I'll steer clear, then." There was a pause, only the sound of chatter in the diner and wind in the park between them. "You were gone when I woke up."

"I left a note."

"You could've woken me and told me yourself."

"You travelled far enough. You needed your rest."

"How do you know how far I travelled?"

"Your hair smelled like dirt when you first returned. I assumed you wouldn't allow yourself to be sullied unless it was in a remote location, lest someone capture the incident on film."

"The worst of all human inventions.” Another pause. "I hope I don't have to wake up alone for long."

"I'll be back soon." Back. Not home. He didn't say that anymore.

"Promise?"

"Of course. And if you miss me, you can just call."

"Mm. I guess my photo should entice you back on its own."

"That it should," Elijah replied, as though he had no intention of changing it as soon as the call ended. The last thing he needed was one of the boys picking up his phone while Katerina called it. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"You'd better. See you soon."

The indistinct chatter cut off, leaving Elijah with a dead line.

 #

 Walking into the hospital felt more like walking into a morgue. The police cruiser was absent from the parking lot as he pulled on, but the moment Elijah opened his car door he caught a waft of peach perfume and knew exactly what was coming.

Janet was there.

Lex helped Dylan out of his car seat. The toddler's eyes were droopy, his hair slick with cooling sweat at the temples. He was certainly past his sugar high.

"Let's go see your mother," Elijah said, trying (and failing) to get a reaction from one of them. As when they first came by, it was Lex who held Dylan's hand when they crossed the road. Elijah was more of a spectator than anything else as Lex followed the path they'd originally taken, arriving at his mother's hospital room door. It was ajar, both Tam and Janet inside.

"What's she doing here?" asked Lex, eyeing Janet with disdain.

"She's here to talk to us about a few things," Tam replied. She spotted Dylan and opened her arms wide. "C'mere, baby!"

Dylan wandered over to his mother, climbing up onto her bed and settling in along her side. She ran a hand through his damp hair, then looked back at Lex, who hadn't moved an inch.

"Come in, Lex. We need to talk."

"I'll ... give you all a moment," said Elijah, excusing himself. He shut the door behind him and avoided Lex's gaze through the glass as he walked away.

 #

 Two hours later, Elijah was still studiously ignoring the loud conversation he could easily eavesdrop on—Lex was currently accusing his mother of abandonment, and Elijah had no intention of intruding on that difficult moment. He'd visited the billing department to see to things, but that had been irritatingly free of bureaucratic nonsense and concluded in half an hour. Elijah soon concluded that there was only so much time a person could spend in the cafeteria before they lost track of any world that existed beyond it, which was how he found himself staring down at the mimicry of a sandwich before him while the argument on the other side of the hospital reached fever pitch.

"I promise I'll visit you there, Lexi,” Tam was saying. "It's not forever—just for now."

"But you hate Grandma June! You never want to see her—"

"I don't hate her, Lex. She's my mother. We don't always get along, but that doesn't mean you won't."

"We don't even know her."

"You knew her when you were a baby and you loved her. She used to sing you songs and play all kinds of games; you thought she hung the moon. Trust me, Lex. This will be good for you."

"But this is our home ..."

Elijah forced himself to tune out once more, taking a bite of his sandwich. He promptly spat it out, but at least it was distracting enough from the matter at hand to give him a temporary reprieve.

 #

 Tam was discharged by 4pm, as sworn by the medical staff. She enquired about the bills and was informed of their status as paid; something in the way she looked at Elijah told him she wasn't thrilled by his interference. She had bigger things to worry about.

Elijah drove the three of them home after Janet departed. Tam was forbidden from driving while she was on pain meds, though Elijah could tell she hadn't taken any yet. Her shoulder bothered her, but she put on a good show as she tried to get Lex to talk to her.

He wouldn't.

With the boys home and unpacked from their day, Elijah was left at rather a loose end. He quickly got the impression he was an unwelcome hoverer in what was Tam's last few hours with her boys before her mother arrived the next morning, so he made himself scarce.

Surprisingly, the old man running the motel recognised Elijah from his visit several weeks previously. Unsurprisingly, the same room was free, the ice machine was still broken, and Elijah wished desperately he were anywhere else.

Dropping down onto the bed, Elijah checked his phone for messages, finding nothing. He told himself he was waiting to hear from Katerina. He knew it wasn't true.

 #

 Once the blood started flowing, Tam's ex-boyfriend was a screamer. Elijah kept him silent enough.

 #

 Elijah stayed clear of the Knight house the next morning. Tam had his number; she'd call if she needed him. She didn't until late that afternoon, when the sun's light filtered through the motel window and lit up the dust motes Elijah was trying desperately not to see.

"They're gone,” was the first thing she said. "CPS wasn't even involved. I just let her take them."

Elijah paused, waiting for more information. She didn't speak, just breathed heavy on the line. "I'll be there in five minutes," he said, ending the call.

 #

 Elijah arrived in three minutes, wasting no time in letting himself in by the unlocked front door. He flicked it locked behind him and continued, finding Tam at the kitchen table with the remains of what looked like a very depressing lunch in front of her.

"Are you all right?"

Tam didn't speak, just met his gaze with an exasperated look—or as exasperated as it could be while her eyes were so unfocused. Elijah scented the air for alcohol, finding nothing. She must have finally taken her meds.

"You should get some rest," he suggested. "I can find some dinner for when you wake up—"

"I need you to leave."

"Pardon?"

"Leave town," she clarified, struggling up from her chair. "I can't rebuild my life with you looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you can fix it. It's not yours to fix, and I don't want you here while I do it myself."

"Tam, please, let me help you."

"Why?" asked Tam, words slurring together. "Why d'you care? You drove all the way here from another state to watch my kids. I let you b'cause of what you did f' me, b'cause I trusted you, b'cause I thought nothing could be worse and that anything was better than my mother and you'd just be helpful for a little bit then you go and pay my bills and you're just here all the time and it's ... what do you want from me?" She drew in a breath, stepping back from him a little until her back hit the wall. She hissed at the pain. "Why did you have to kill him?"

"Tamara, what—"

"I know Benny is dead. They found his body in the river. Said it looks like a suicide, but I know better." Her gaze was accusatory, her stance defensive. Perhaps not quite enough for someone accusing another of murder, but still, the judgment was there.

"Tamara, he—he hurt you. He would've hurt your sons."

"You don't know that!"

"I ASKED HIM, Tamara!" Elijah snapped. "I asked him, and he told me everything he did and everything he was going to do. Why would I let him live?"

"His brother's a deputy," said Tam, breathless and wide-eyed. "I could turn you in. You'd never see the light of day again."

"You won't." Elijah tried to sound certain. He could always compel her, but he didn't want to. She'd do what she did, and he would face the consequences.

"Why not? Why shouldn't I? You're a killer, Elijah. I let you watch my children and then you killed a man."

"A man that tried to hurt you."

"That doesn't mean you can kill him!" Tam kicked the back of her foot against the wall, eyes screwed shut. "Just ... leave, Elijah. Please."

"You've been through a lot, Tam. You're angry now, so get some rest. I'll come by in the morning with breakfast—"

"Oh, my god, no. This isn't some trauma response, Elijah. I need you to go."

Elijah drew back, calculating. "I'll be in town until tomorrow morning," he said, deciding as he said it aloud. "If you ask me to stay, I will. But if I don't have a message from you by nine tomorrow, I'll know you want me gone for real."

"Are you always this smothering?" Tam scoffed. "No wonder you don't have a family."

"You're lashing out," Elijah said, rationalising. "I'll take my leave. Please—call me if you need to."

Tam didn't respond, just watched him carefully as he retreated. He could've sworn he still felt her eyes on his back, all the way down the street.

 #

 No call came through from Tam by morning. Elijah didn't know what he'd expected, but the feeling was familiar. First Klaus, then Matthew, now Tam—all making it perfectly clear just how unnecessary he was.

It's unbecoming to pout, he warned himself, schooling his features as he stopped by the front office of the motel to check out.

"Good day for travel," said the old man, taking the key back from Elijah and hanging it on its hook. "You drive safe now, friend."

"Thank you for your hospitality." Elijah swept up his suitcase, not one for wheeling it—there was something plebeian about the movement that he abhorred—and made his way out, stepping lightly over the cracks in the concrete before arriving at his car.

Inside, Elijah paused. His phone burned a hole in his pocket (almost literally, as he'd been informed there was a slight overheating issue he needed to have seen to). Pulling it out, he found the conversation with Katerina and tapped out a message.

Heading back to town.

It took Katerina all of ten seconds to reply. I've always wanted to have a picnic at the gazebo in town.

I know the one. Should be there about 1PM.

Make it 2. You have to stop for food for us.

Elijah snorted. Katerina Petrova did not fill baskets with pastries for outdoors picnics. 2PM it is. I'll see you soon.

And with that, Elijah got on the road.