#saying this as my brain is in the middle of a “refusing to create” slump but it's the thought that counts

[capn-twitchery]

i need to write more grace letters. i need to get him Friends

he needs more chances to make little jokes that just read half as just awkward statements bc he still can't drop the formality. it's my fav

[eyayah-oya]

A Bit of Hope to Keep You Safe

Clone Ship Week | Day 7 | Armor - @cloneshipweek

Bacara/Rex

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Ao3 link

           Rex walked through camp with two cups of caf in his hand, looking for Commander Bacara.  They had time to relax before the next big push of the campaign, and Rex wanted to spend at least a few minutes with Bacara before they had to be a Captain and a Commander again.  It was so rare that they even got to see each other, let alone outside of a professional setting, that Rex was willing to take whatever they could scrounge together.

           Eventually, he found his way to the edge of the camp, overlooking a vast violet sea.  The boulders of ancient ruins littered the ground, and Rex found Bacara leaning back against the boulder on the seaward side.  Rex kicked a pebble to let the Commander know that he was there, and Bacara looked up.

           For the first time in a long time, Rex got a good look at his boyfriend.  Bacara looked exhausted.  The eyes that held so much warmth during ARC training now were shattered with grief and the burden of forever remaining strong for his men.  Bacara was the bulwark holding back the tide of the entire Separatist army from his men and the rest of the Republic.  When Bacara realized it was just Rex, the line of his shoulders slumped just slightly, and the man behind The Marine peaked through the cracks in his armor.

           “Rex,” Bacara breathed.

           With a small smile, Rex sat down next to Bacara and handed him one of the cups of caf.  “How are you?"

           "I’m holding up, tat’ka,” Bacara said.  He took a long sip of the caf and wrinkled his nose adorably much to Rex’s delight.  “Did you put any sugar in this?”

           “I gave you the allotment of sugar, same as every other damn cup of caf in the Republic,” Rex said, holding back a snicker.

           Bacara hummed and drained the caf as fast as he could before setting his cup down on the ground next to him.  With a languid stretch, Bacara leaned his head back against the boulder and closed his eyes, drinking in the rays of the sun.  His skin was paler than other brothers, a testament to how rarely he took his bucket off.  Rex scooted a bit closer to Bacara and pressed against his shoulder. A shudder ran through his body before Bacara leaned into the touch.

           Rex wanted to weep at how touch-starved and lonely he was. How many nights did Bacara spend alone while his men sought comfort amongst themselves?  How many times did he stand guard while the Marines shook apart and put themselves back together just to fight and die in another battle on a planet the Republic had all but forgotten?  There was not a single clone ever created that did well with being isolated. From the time they were decanted, they spent every second of their day with brothers.  But the Marines were isolated and Bacara even more so.

           There were few things in life that Rex wanted more in that moment, than to take Bacara and his men far away from the war and keep them safe and loved.  He wanted to hold Bacara every night, and tell him how loved he was until he stopped flinching at every touch.  Rex wanted to have the freedom to be there for Bacara since he refused to allow anyone else close enough to take care of The Marine.

           In the middle of a galactic-wide war, however, there wasn’t much Rex could do for any of those desires.  He could care for Bacara for however long this campaign lasted, and then they’d be separated once again with little to no contact.

           As Rex ran his fingers over the gouges in his thigh plate from an exploding tank, an idea struck him.

           “Bacara—” Rex began, then stopped.  How did someone even ask something like this?  Maybe he should have paid more attention to Kix and Jesse’s courtship.

           “Hmm?”

           For several seconds, Rex tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to say.  There were just so many different ways it could be taken, and Rex wasn’t even sure if the Marines were isolated enough from their brothers that this custom hadn’t reached them yet.  Giving a piece of himself to a brother, especially one from a different battalion, had certain meanings.  Rex fell in love quickly and loved deeply.  Bacara loved just as deeply, but he was also slower to trust and slower to love. It felt awful to even think it, but Rex really wasn’t sure how his suggestion would be taken.

           “Rex, whatever it is, I’m sure it will be fine,” Bacara sighed.  “Talk to me, tat’ka.”

           With a deep breath, Rex undid the clasps of his left vambrace, the only piece of his armor that he thought might be able to fit Bacara. Without a word, he turned and offered the piece of armor to his boyfriend and held his breath.

           Bacara didn’t say anything.  He stared at the vambrace, face carefully blank, and Rex was terrified that he’d pushed too hard too soon.  The shattered look in his warm brown eyes seemed to clear, some of the cracks healing, just a little bit.  They were silent, only the distant waves crashing against the base of the cliff and the calls of local seabirds could be heard.  Not even the camp was close enough to hear the everyday chatter of soldiers reconnecting.  After a minute, just long enough for Rex to get anxious, Bacara reached out and took his vambrace, his fingers trembling slightly.

           Rex let out his breath in relief.  Bacara understood what Rex hadn’t managed to find the words to express what was in his heart.  This was important, for both of them.  Vod’e traded pieces of armor with only their closest brothers.  It was a promise to return.  A promise that they had someone watching their back.  A promise to always be there for them. Some, like Echo and Fives, it was a gift between siblings.  Fives still cherished the piece of armor Echo had given him before the disastrous mission to the Citadel.  Others, like Jesse and Kix, treated it as a courting gift.  In either situation, the two who shared armor formed a connection that was unbreakable.

           “Rex—” Bacara whispered, his voice rough and broken. “Rex, are you sure—”

           But he refused to let Bacara finish that sentence.  Rex surged forward and pulled his wonderful, kind, gentle boyfriend into a deep and passionate kiss, though he kept every movement gentle and loving.  Everything he felt for Bacara was poured from his heart and into the kiss.  Every time Rex only managed to keep going because he knew he needed to come back to Bacara.  Every time he thought about his boyfriend fighting alone on far-off planets, surrounded by enemies.  He gave Bacara everything, his whole soul.  And Bacara welcomed every touch, every lick, every bite with the desperation of a man dying of loneliness.  A man dying for the love of his cyare.

           Bacara eventually took control of the kiss, pulling Rex into his lap and cradling his face in his large, warm palms.  The callouses scratched over his skin, sending tingles down his spine and curling his toes in his boots.  Rex sighed into the kiss.  He wrapped his arms around Bacara’s shoulders and let him find what he needed with every shared breath and every suck and nip.  Rex could only hold tight and refuse to let go.

           Since the first time they kissed, Rex had always fallen apart when Bacara kissed him.  There was a depth and a passion, building up heat until Rex was panting and hazy-eyed in his arms.  With every kiss, Bacara told Rex how much he loved him.  How much he meant to Bacara.  How desperately he needed Rex.  And this time was no different.

           Rex had no idea how long they’d spent trading kisses with him straddling his boyfriend’s lap, caf cups and vambrace left forgotten in the dirt next to them.  When they finally broke apart to simply rest their foreheads against each other, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, turning the pink sky a gorgeous red and purple.

           “Rex?” Bacara murmured.

           “Hmm?”  He couldn’t gather up the scattered cells of his brain to come up with a more intelligent response than that.

           “You really want to exchange armor?”

           Rex idly slipped his fingers into Bacara’s curls, playing with the longer hair on top and scratching through his beard.  “Of course, Cara.  I love you.  I can’t do much to be there for you while we’re still fighting this war, but I can promise to always come back.  It’s not much—”

           “No, it’s perfect,” Bacara interrupted.  “I would love to exchange armor with you.”

           “Good.  I’m really glad.”  Rex nudged Bacara’s nose while his hand scrabbled to find his forgotten vambrace.

           Bacara huffed, amused, and grabbed the vambrace from where it had fallen on the opposite side of where Rex was searching.  “Is this what you were looking for, tat’ka?”

           Rex gave his best Tubie scowl he could, the one that never failed to make Ponds melt into a puddle, and nuzzled Bacara’s face.  “Not my fault you hid it,” he grumbled.

           “Of course.  It’s perfectly reasonable to start losing your mind when dealing with the Jedi.  No one would blame you for forgetting the little things.”

           “I can and will bite you,” Rex threatened.

           Of course, that had a slightly different effect on Bacara than Rex had been expecting.  His dark eyes turned black with desire, and he leaned forward to leave a sharp bite on Rex’s swollen bottom lip.  Rex gasped and his heart skipped several beats.

           “Cara,” he gasped.  “That’s not playing fair.”

           “Who said anything about fair?”  Bacara ran his hand along Rex’s arm, until he reached the empty space that his vambrace normally occupied.  “Can’t have you going into battle without a full set of armor.  That would be unprofessional.”

           “Yeah?  Are you going to do anything about it?”

           Bacara hummed in response.  With deft fingers, he quickly undid the clasps of his own left vambrace and pushed Rex back far enough that he could easily access both of their arms.  They were all clones, so the vambraces looked to be the same size.  It wasn’t cost-efficient, after all, to provide custom sizes of armor for the entire GAR.  But the padding inside might be different for Bacara and Rex, since the Commander was built a bit bigger than Rex.

           “Rex of Torrent,” Bacara started, his voice rumbling thick and low.  “I give you my armor with the promise that I will always watch your back.  I will always support you in everything you do. I will always love you.  And I swear I will return to you as best as I can. Do you accept?”

           Blinking away sudden tears, Rex leaned forward and captured Bacara’s lips in a soft kiss.  “I accept your armor and your promise.  Bacara of Nova, I give you my armor with the promise that I will stand by your side.  I will treat your men as my own, and I will support Nova in every way I can.  I will be your rock and your anchor.  I will love you as long as I have breath and I will always do my best to return to you.  Do you accept my armor and my promise?”

           “Yes,” Bacara breathed.  He shuddered and gripped Rex’s bare arm as tight as he dared. Rex wrapped his other arm around him and brought their foreheads together again, their lips brushing with every breath.  He held Bacara until he was steady once again.

           “Can I put my vambrace on you?” Rex asked once the shudders had faded to only the occasional tremor.

           Bacara nodded and with sure fingers, Rex slid the vambrace into place and clicked the clasps closed.  They both sighed when the armor settled into place and then Bacara was reaching for his vambrace.  He returned the favor and soon, they were both fully armored again, minus their buckets.

           “Thank you for letting me do this,” Rex murmured softly.

           “No need for that.  I’m glad you thought of it.  I wasn’t sure—”  Bacara trailed off.  There were a number of things that he could say, but neither one chose to acknowledge any of them out loud.  He wasn’t sure if Rex would want to wear his armor.  He wasn’t sure when they’d be able to see each other for the exchange to even be possible.  He wasn’t sure if either of them would live long enough to talk about exchanging armor.

           None of those concerns ended up being founded, and Bacara relaxed as much as he could against Rex.  Rex easily accepted his weight and held onto him as tight as he could.  It wasn’t the same as being on board a ship, where they felt a bit more comfortable removing their armor, but it was good enough for now.  Now was all they had, with the war pulling them across the galaxy from each other, and Rex intended to make the most of it.

           (Later, his men would send Rex knowing smirks and pointed observations, carefully out of hearing range of Commander Bacara.  While they teased and prodded at him, Rex knew that every single one of them were happy for him.  They all needed a little bit of love and comfort with the war weighing down on them.  Especially Captain Rex and The Marine.)

This is inspired by Soft Wars by @thefoundationproject . You should all go read it because it’s amazing!

[downfordiluc]

Kaeya x F Reader One Shot. [Modern AU].

Warning // Explicit Language. No Smut, only fluff.

Synopsis: a night filled with alcohol, dancing and feelings. 

If you rubbed your eyes one more time, you feared they may disappear inside of your skull. The display on your laptop was beginning to sear your retinas, as you watched the clock tick over to 11:30 pm. You should have left work hours ago. Having a hardass for a boss had wasn't something really had any benefits to it, other than the sizeable paycheck you took home after a long week's work; often going ten or twenty hours over your actually scheduled nine to five days.

Being able to finally click save and close the torture machine in front of you was something that you spent every working moment impatiently waiting for, and the satisfaction you got from knowing you could finally go and slump into your bedsheets was something that never really lost its novelty. And yet, tonight wasn't going to be one of those nights.

"Wanna go cause some trouble?"

You looked up blearily at the voice, seeing a tall, tan figure leaning against your doorway, one hand on his hip, and the other in his pocket. The smirk on his lips was one that you couldn't get enough of, but you'd never admit it. You'd never give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"It's almost midnight, Kaeya." you remarked, as you shrugged your leather jacket onto your shoulders. Despite the protest in your tone, you had basically already succumbed to his plans before even hearing them, as you collected your belongings that were spread over your desk. "And so the night is only young, [Y/N], whaddya say?". This man knew he was born with a silver tongue, and had the power to persuade even the most stubborn to follow his every command. You knew this, and yet you fell victim every damn time.

"Where are we going?", you practically had a white flag waving above your head, as you walked through the door he held open, and yet you weren't fooled - Kaeya was no gentleman. He was a sweet talker, and he played the field like it was second nature to him. Life was like a game of chess, except he was always 5 moves ahead, taking piece after piece off of the board. Women were the pawns.

"Diluc's club, he pissed me off yesterday, and if my memory serves, you're not best pleased with him either.", he looked as though his plan had fallen into place, and yet it had one fatal flaw. "So your plan for revenge, is to financially provide for him by drinking in his club?". You felt as though you had his king in check - winning the game of chess - and might actually get to go home for the night. Yet that stupid smirk returned, and you instantly dropped the glimmer of hope you had grasped onto. "Money is simply an object to him, you know this. But just imagine the look on his face if he saw us both having the time of our goddamn lives, huh?". You hated to admit it, but to see that exact face you were now picturing was an opportunity you would not pass up, even if you hadn't slept for a week.

The night was bitter, biting at your cheeks as you walked down the cobblestoned alleys. No matter how much you pulled at your thin jacket for warmth, it simply wasn't the right choice of attire for the middle of February. "I know a way to warm you up." the man to your right quipped, and you instinctually glared up at him, seeing a saccharine sweet smile upon his face. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, refusing to step into the trap that was his syrupy gaze. You knew better.

"Vodka".

You heard him chuckle at your blunt response. A soft, breathy laugh that could melt ice, and the heat that rose to your cheeks was welcoming, considering the harsh winds that felt like icicles piercing your skin. He really did have a way to make women putty in his hands, and you had never been more glad you considered yourself above that, considering you were about to get absolutely shit-faced together.

One shot turned to two, and two turned to three, as you bottomed the foul liquid, and slammed each glass onto the table with a loud clink. You hadn't done this in a while, and it had been even longer since you had done it with another person. Drinking alone was usually your style, which now you realised was actually quite sad.

"Slow down, darlin', they'll run out if you aren't careful.", he had absolutely no right to be using words like that, and even less right to witness the colour that lit your cheeks alight. Suddenly, staring at the marble bar seemed a lot more interesting.

"Mind your own business, Alberich. You said you wanted to have fun, this is how I have fun.". You knew full well the worse was yet to come. They say everyone has a second personality when they're drunk, and yours enjoyed partying like the world was going to end tomorrow. You noticed he was nursing his whiskey, and frowned at him, tilting your head to the side and resting it on your fist.

"Didn't take you to be a lightweight." you smiled devilishly into your words, watching his eyes widen slightly in surprise, you could practically see him recoil as though you had smacked him in the face. "Someone's gotta be able to walk to take you home.". The laugh you let out in response was a hearty, full one. Something you hadn't done in a while. You pushed at his shoulder, mocking him further. "Let go, have fun! Worst case scenario, we sleep on the floor. I never took you to be the boring one, Kaeya."

Enough was enough, he raised his glass and allowed the burning liquid to slip down his throat. He pulled a face before his glass made the same clink that your shots had been making for the past hour. "It's on, darlin."

"Two more shots over here, dear brother." You had almost forgotten why you came tonight, as you saw the redhead's brows almost touch, frowning as he had no choice but to stop ignoring the two of you, which he had been trying to do since you strutted into his club.

"And two for me!" You giggled into your words, as he gave you a look that you had never seen on his face. "I like your style, [Y/N]". His voice was lower than usual, probably from the assault on his throat the whiskey had enacted, but you had to admit, it sounded good that way. Too good, judging by the butterflies kicking up a fuss in your stomach. You decided to simply drown them in alcohol, as Diluc slid the drinks across to you without even muttering a word.

You must have had seven or eight shots of vodka by now, and at this point, Kaeya wasn't far behind, his jacket and tie discarded over the back of his stool, as well as two buttons on his shirt being undone. A deep v of tan skin practically begging you to stare. You had similarly discarded your jacket behind you, the alcohol flooding through your veins being what you attributed your rising body temperature to. You didn't even seem to care that all you had on was a lowcut, white tank top, which definitely left a lot less to the imagination than intended. Hopefully, the lighting was low enough that he didn't notice the lace of your bra creating lines under the thin fabric.

"Ahh, I love this song."

You didn't even seem in control of the words leaving your mouth, as a low, smooth beat filled the air around you. This song was one that you would definitely dance to in private, or if you weren't absolutely wasted. Before you even fully acknowledged what you were doing, you had climbed onto the surface in front of you and were gyrating your hips in a way that you wouldn't be caught dead doing sober. Vodka really lowered your inhibitions, a fact which was clearly evident to Kaeya, who couldn't help but stare as your hands worked their way down your body, slowly moving along to the music. He wasn't the only one staring. Pretty much the whole club was watching you let loose on the bar, ogling your figure and looking you up and down like meat on a stick. Diluc, however, could not have looked less impressed if he tried.

"[Y/N], get down from there. Everyone is staring.", Kaeya seemed almost possessive, as he extended his arm to you, trying to convince you to come down, and yet, you hadn't felt this free in a while. "You come up here! Dance with me, darlin'.". He seemed flushed at you using his words against him, but his stance didn't falter, as he kept insisting you come down from the bar. For a change, him and Diluc actually agreed on something.

"You're going to fall, [Y/N]."

"Then catch me, Prince Charming."

Your words were slurred, and it was clearly evident that you were inebriated beyond any point of logic, so Kaeya decided to take things into his own hands. He grabbed at your wrist and lightly pulled, expecting you to get the message, and finally come down. Definitely not expecting you to topple like a domino.

As your brain stopped feeling like it had just been scrambled, you noticed Kaeya's face only inches away from yours, before acknowledging that your body was pressed against his own. You'd actually fallen, holy shit, you were wasted. And yet, he had caught you. Prince Charming had really saved you - how ironic. His strong, defined muscles against your body were significantly more welcoming than the floor, that was for sure. If you weren't already completely certain that you had had more than enough to drink, you were once you caught yourself speaking.

"How about we take this somewhere more private, handsome?". You would be kicking yourself for those words once your blood stopped being what felt like 99% alcohol, and yet right now, you were biting your lip, looking up at him, barely noticing the flush under his tanned skin.

"How about we take you home?" was his response, as he tried to put you onto the floor, your legs buckling, as you sink to his knees. He sighed in defeat, tucking both of your jackets over his shoulder, and pulling you back up to cradle in his arms, using the warmth of his blazer as a pillow as you rested onto his shoulder. Maybe you were the lightweight, after all.

During the walk home, you hardly noticed the cold, between how hot the alcohol had you, and the warmth of his body heat pressed against yours. You barely acknowledged the journey ending until you felt the familiar softness of your bed under your warm body. Instinctively, you curled up onto your side, hugging a pillow, and kicking your shoes off of the side of the sheets.

"Goodnight, [Y/N]. I had fun with you tonight." Despite your vision being blurry, you could tell he was leaned against the wall the exact same way he had been hours ago at work, and you reached for his arm, tugging on his sleeve.

"Stay with me, Kaeya. Please.", you could feel yourself slowly sobering up, as your thoughts became less cloudy and your feelings becoming more lucid, and all you wanted was for him to stay by your side. Nothing sexual about it, you just wanted to feel his body heat radiating against yours as you slipped into slumber. You felt as though you could see the wanting in his eyes also, but his words begged to differ.

"I'll be on the couch." his reply left you feeling downcast, however, this was short-lived as you felt his lips lightly kiss you on the forehead, leaving the spot they had been tingling and prickling with heat. You were comforted knowing he would be there in any capacity, and that was the thought that nursed you to sleep pretending the pillow in your arms was the man who had caught you not long ago.  You knew that you had caught feelings for him in turn. Maybe he wasn't so bad, after all? Maybe he could be your knight in shining armor. The one to keep you company on what would be a lonely night drinking, and the one to hold you tight as your head pounded into the early hours of the morning. Anything would be good, as long as he was there.

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

40. “Have I ever lied to you?” With Janus and Patton?

I've finally written it! 😄 This one is slightly longer than planned, but I had fun finishing it after a few days of writer's block! I don't know how good it is, but I hope you like it! 💚🖤

General writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 (If anyone would like to be added to the general taglist, let me know!)

Read it on Ao3!

Have I Ever Lied To You?

Pre-romantic Patton/Janus

Janus stared out of the window, watching the rain hit the glass drop by drop before streaming down and pooling onto the balcony of his apartment. He sighed as he held the hot coffee cup in his hands looking at the steam as it fogged up the glass, he drew a smiley face in the condensation, but it didn’t improve his mood. He hated the rain, primarily because it made his hair all messy. It was also what the weather was like when his best friend Patton left five years ago, and he never heard from him again. It didn’t help that he started developing a crush on him not long before he had to leave. Janus tried to shake that thought out of his mind, he never stopped feeling guilty for not being there for Patton… but there was a good reason. He always clung onto the hope that they would be reunited again, but as every year passed, that hope began to flicker and burn out.

He grimaced as he took a sip of his now cold coffee and walked into the kitchen to pour it into the sink. He boiled the kettle to make a fresh cup; but opened the cupboard and sighed once more as he realised he was now out of coffee. He slumped down in defeat wondering if this day could possibly get any worse. Janus dragged his feet as he slowly grabbed his coat ready to head out. His mind was too full of memories of the past and regrets, needing to go out was the last thing he needed, especially when he wanted to just wallow in his emotions. He took a deep breath and opened the front door with the minimal amount of enthusiasm possible.

As he locked the front door and turned around, he heard a crash, and it took him a few seconds to realise that he was on the floor. Not only that, but he was pinned down under a guy who was roughly his age, to say he was baffled was quite an understatement. Janus had to admit, this guy was pretty cute. His auburn hair sat on top of thick rimmed glasses, he couldn’t help but notice the light covering of freckles on his cheeks and the bright blue polo shirt. He was too busy staring to notice that the guy was frantically trying to talk to him.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay? Are you hurt? I didn’t mean to hurt you; I was too busy watching the rainbow made by the rain!” It took Janus a few seconds to figure out where he had seen this person before, the puzzle pieces slowly came together and when the last one slotted into place, his eyes widened in shock. He knew that he had just ignored everything that he had been asked, but he needed to check before he made a fool out of himself.

“… Patton? Is that you?” He had to hide the smile from his face just in case it wasn’t him. The shock on the other guys face was enough to confirm his suspicions as he smiled with such vigor back at him.

“… Janus?! Wow, what are the odds huh?” He got off of Janus and held out a hand to pull him up. He gratefully took the opportunity and lingered holding his hand for as long as possible. He smiled at Patton before he was nearly knocked back onto the ground again with a forceful but endearing hug, something he’s been longing to experience for so many years now. He sank into the hug and clung onto Patton like he was some kind of cruel apparition taunting him. Patton broke the hug first but kept his hands on Janus’ shoulders and at this point, he honestly didn’t care that he was getting drenched from head to toe. He was right where he wanted to be.

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while, huh?” Janus couldn’t help but notice that Patton was kicking a small stone, refusing to look up at him. He must still remember what happened the day that he left, and he felt his heart crack just a little bit. The only consolation was that he could explain his actions from that day.

“Ehh, yeah. I’m doing good. Pretty busy which isn’t unusual for me. Believe me, I’ve been thinking about seeing you again for the longest time. How are you doing?” He saw that Patton was slowly looking up at him, almost in relief that he hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Yeah… I’m good… Do you really mean that? You’ve been thinking about me?” There was an uncharacteristic glint in Patton’s eye, like he was fighting the urge to either laugh or cry, trying to find a lie in Janus’ genuine truth. He used to lie a lot and hide truths behind sarcasm, but he grew out of that over time.

“I meant every word, Patton. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you… Have I ever lied to you?” He stepped closer to Patton, he knew that question would lead to the thing he both wanted to confront but wanted to run and hide from at the same time. The fact that Patton’s eyes were tearing up and glimmered in the rain showed that he was thinking the exact same thing.

“Only once… The day I had to go, move away with my parents… Where were you? You were the only person I wanted to see before I left, but you were the only person who wasn’t there… I’m sorry. That’s not fair, but you meant so much to me. You still do, and you always will.” That small crack in Janus’ heart was breaking more and more with every word, with every shake in Patton’s voice as the hurt he must have been harboring just poured out into the street and merged with the falling rain. He wrapped Patton up in a hug, and he felt the desperate clasping on Patton’s hands around him. He whispered to him how it was okay, that he was sorry, that he wasn’t going anywhere again. It didn’t take long for the sobs to turn into quiet sniffles and Patton pulled himself out of the warm embrace with a grateful smile on his face.

“I can assure you, Patton. There’s no one that feels worse for what happened that day. I have beaten myself up every single time it rains, the guilt and sadness has consumed me constantly. The thought of never seeing you again made me want to scream and search the world to find you.” He had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying, there were too many tears for what should be a happy reunion.

“Look, I can explain what happened… I had ordered a gift for you, but I had to go into town to get it because it was custom made. Then the bus didn’t turn up and traffic was a nightmare since the rain caused the road flooded. By the time I finally got back to your house… you were long gone.” He could help but think how cute Patton looked again as he started to get excited and bounced on his feet slightly while covering his mouth with his hands.

“You… You were getting me a GIFT?! Oh my goodness, I love that!!” Janus took a deep breath in, he had kept it all of this time, just in case this miracle ever happened. He clasped the small square box before slowly removing it from his bag. He took Patton’s hand gently and then placed the box on his palm delicately.

Patton looked over with a look of surprise on his face. Janus nodded, urging him to open the box. He lifted the lid off as carefully as he could. Patton gasped and Janus had to admit, he forgot what it looked like after all of these years. It was a bracelet combining their two favourite colours. The body of the bracelet was a mix of blues, some light, some dark like the night. Then threads of gold were wrapped around, creating a beautiful combination of the two colours which symbolised their bond. There were three charms that summed them up too. A paw print for Patton, a small snake for Janus, and a heart in between them. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he saw how stunned Patton was.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life… This is gorgeous Janus. I love you! Can you put it on for me?” Janus’ brain was buffering for a second… Patton just said what? Did this mean that he had feelings for him too? He could think about that later, he needed to hide the blush spreading across his face and he delicately took the bracelet and tried to open the clasp. His hands were too wet from the rain, and it kept slipping from his grip. He laughed and smiled when Patton giggled too.

“It’s way too wet out here, how about you come into my place? We can dry off, get some take out, watch some Disney movies, and catch up on everything? I think we have a lot to talk about.” He held his hand out and Patton nodded before taking it. Hopefully, this would be the beginning of a happy ending for both of them. He looked behind him briefly, Patton was stood perfectly in the middle of a fully formed rainbow as the sun broke through the clouds. He took out his phone with lightning speed and snapped a photo while Patton wasn't looking. Maybe rain wasn’t so bad anymore. Janus turned back, and as he unlocked the front door, he couldn’t help himself from whispering under his breath.

“I love you too, Patton.”

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.8

masterlist (read parts 1-7 here!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no ma’am this was spawned in the pits of my hell brain

summary: y/n’s family takes on a particularly mysterious exchange student, draco malfoy. fyi: this is NOT a non magic AU--draco is still a wizard

warnings: swearing, college admissions (ew), vague mentions of a car accident

a/n: hey...ahahahaha yeah so when i disappeared from the writing scene i was actually sitting on this chapter because i wanted to finish the entire scene up until draco came back home, but i haven’t quite figured out how everything is going to work in the middle of this story bc we’re getting into the thick of it. things are only going to get more and more wild and while i have the ending already written (oopsies), there’s still a lot to cover between december and august. i promise you it’ll be worth it tho--thanks so much for waiting!

word count: 2.5k

no music recs because i wrote this in november and i don’t remember ANYTHING!

tags tags tags (message me if you’d like to be tagged!) @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan

Y/N froze as she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

In any other situation, she would have fibbed, the lies rolling off her tongue and falling into a neat pile.

But this wasn’t just any situation. 

“Drac--uh, Draco,” she began, rather lamely. She wondered if he could see what she had been doing and then immediately stopped that train of thought--of course he could, she was sitting there crouched with his letters all over the floor next to her.

Y/N had never seen him look so terrible--his eyes were saucers and his fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“What’s up?” she asked. Maybe I got really lucky and he hasn’t noticed yet.

His mouth opened and closed a few times as he seemed to agonize over what to say. 

“Give me those letters back,” he finally said. “And come into my room. We need to talk.”

She scrambled to get everything back into the satchel--honestly, how had all those fit into such a tiny bag?--and tossed it into his hand. He refused to make eye contact and instead yanked her into his room, shutting the door before closing the blinds.

“Uh...what’s going o--”

“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped. “You know what you read.”

She withered under his gaze, all of a sudden trained on her with a heat that could melt through iron. 

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he said tying up the satchel and tossing it into a drawer. “You’re going to sit right there and tell me everything that you know. And no lying. I can always tell.”

Something about the weight of his words told her that the last part wasn’t hyperbole. “O--okay. Um, I know that you’re kind of strange, and I know that your family definitely isn’t into politics because unless you’ve changed your name I haven’t been able to find shit on your family...I know that you’re here for some kind of punishment, or at least that’s what the letter said, and that wherever you’re from believes in, uh, magic, or something…”

Y/N had never been so scared of Draco as she was right then. He stood looming over her, his eyes calculating and cold. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Uh--how did you--”

“Is there anything else you want to know? Ask now or forever hold your peace. I promise I’ll take care of this.”

Y/N blinked. “What? What do you mean take care…”

“Don’t...just don’t ask that right now.” Draco’s demeanor made a switch from intimidating to exhausted. His previous towering presence looked more mournful than anything. 

“Ok,” said Y/N, willing to take something else over nothing. “So...why are you here? Where are you actually from? What happened to your dad?”

Draco drew in a few slow breaths. “My family’s name is Malfoy. I never lied to you about that. We’re from England, like you think. But we’re not really from the same world as you.”

He looked at her, gauging her reaction. When nothing came, he continued. “I’m...magic, as you would probably say. Like, wizards and witches and shit. Like the stuff all of you here celebrate for Halloween. Just more real.”

“You’re off your rocker is what you are,” said Y/N. “Magic isn’t real.”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” Draco replied, his tone wearing down. “Not to you. It’s very real to me.”

“Were you in a cult or something because that’s absolute batshit cra--”

“Oh my fucking God can you just listen,” he said in one long-winded breath. “Thank you. Not that it matters that much if you actually believe me and I’m not allowed to show you any magic--they almost sent me back home for spelling my hair neat that one time in the car with you--but you should believe. Did you really think you were just sick after Homecoming? Like, did you think that was the common cold or something?”

“Well…” Y/N trailed off as realization dawned on her.

“I don’t know how you got into that store, but it was magic. Whatever object you picked up did something to you. You would’ve died from muggle care--the only possible treatment was extracting whatever magic had somehow gotten inside you.”

“So you were the person in my dream.”

“Yes. Anyways. So back in England, my family got wrapped up in some...dark business with a very evil wizard. I had to do some things that I’d rather not get into, and those things were serious offenses in the eyes of the Ministry--which is like your government. I was sent here as a punishment instead of something more severe.”

Y/N snorted. “Assuming all of this is true, why did you get sent to America? Normally exchange students see trips to the US as a kind of vacation...but I do understand the part of Ohio being used as a punishment.”

His face was void of amusement. 

“I wasn’t sent here because Ohio is boring,” he said. “I was sent here to be forced to assimilate into muggle society--”

“Muggle?”

“People who aren’t magic. Anyways, that was the punishment. Having to live with and associate with muggles, far enough away from home that I faced no threat of vigilantism and couldn’t escape.”

“Oh.” Y/N deflated into her seat as it all began to hit her. So that was why Draco was so disgusted with her. There was a reason why some gut feeling told her that he would never see her like....that.

“Anyways, for the less exciting part.” Draco turned to rifle around the jewelry box they’d kept in the guest room. “It’s crucial to the safety of my people that you don’t know about us. Muggles get scared, and sometimes they hurt us. They nearly wiped us out a few generations ago.” 

He turned around, wielding a small wooden cube that glimmered in the light. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I have to do this. If they know you know, they’ll send me away.”

“Do...what?” She stared up at him as he approached, holding the square out in his palms. “Draco, what’s going--”

“I told you I’d take care of it,” he said, his tone pleading. “I’m going to make you forget.”

~

Y/N eyes flickered open. It was chilly in her room--one look confirmed the fact that her window was wide open--but she had a thick blanket pulled over her. As she shed the last pulses of drowsiness, one thought bubbled to the surface: 

That fucker.

She sat up, threw the blankets off her bed, and started towards the guest room.

“Hey,” she said, yanking the door open and standing in front of a very surprised Draco. “Nice try. Are we actually gonna talk this through, or are you gonna put me to sleep again?” 

“Wha-”

“I remember everything, dipshit. Especially the part where you didn’t let me say my piece before you knocked me out.”

“I-”

“Try and steal my memories again and it’s on sight, Draco.” Y/N sucked in a deep breath and finally slumped down onto his bed. “You were saying?”

“How did you...er...you’re not supposed to remember me,” he said. “Do you have any magic blood in your family? Do you know?”

“Look around. If we had magic blood we wouldn’t be living in Ohio.”

“I’m not joking around.” He joined her and laid back. Y/N tried to not make a mental note of how a few strands of his hair brushed up against her cheek for a second. He smelled of peppermint and pine. “There’s no reason why that shouldn’t have worked. You definitely aren’t magic--I can feel it, no offense--and that Obliviation cube was explicitly created to work on muggles and wipe specific memories of magic.”

“I guess I’m just better.”

“Not funny. I’m definitely going to get sent to some random village in...I don’t know, Siberia for this. And your whole family will be obliviated. The whole point of me telling you was so I could get you to understand why I had to wipe your memory.”

“That’s horribly disrespectful, you know. Not even asking for my consent before doing such a thing? Try again.”

“I will,” he said, sitting up and grabbing the cube again. 

Y/N sprung up and scooted away. “Wait! Wait! That was a joke! Can’t we just talk this through? I’m a really good liar.”

“Lying doesn’t matter in front of the Ministry. They have their ways.”

“And what’s the Ministry going to do?” she asked. “Because, right now, it looks like I know about your secret and they’re not knocking down my door yet. Are they seriously going to break into my own home and perform some kind of lie detector test on me out of the blue? Are they really gonna cause a scene like that? No? I didn’t think so.”

Draco looked even paler than usual as he examined her from the other side of the bed, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “I hope you’re grasping the severity of this. This isn't a fun little joke. This is the difference between my community living or dying.”

“I get that. But if I say I’m not going to tell anyone, then how is your community at risk?”

“You can’t promise me that.”

“Draco.” Her tone was strong enough to make him snap his head up and meet her eyes. “You saved my life. I’ve lived with you for almost 3 months. Trust me when I say I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Swear on my life.”

The silence was tangible between the two as he stood there staring.

“You have to trust me,” said Y/N. “Please.”

Draco met her eyes again, a type of helplessness written so deeply into the etches of his face that he nearly looked like a different person than the proud, posh British boy that was usually him. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She let out a sigh of relief as he put the cube back into the drawer. 

“Don’t get too comfortable, though,” he told her. “Once I figure out how to fix this, I won’t need to trust you anymore.”

“You’ve been trusting me with your life since the moment you got into a car with me for the first time. Do you have any idea how many teenagers crash on the freeway? I don’t get why this is so different.”

He scowled. “I think it’s very obviously different.”

“I can pull up the stats for you real quick if you want. Just so you can grasp the severity of the situation that you’re minimizing right now.”

“Damn it, Y/N, you don’t understand!” Draco slammed his hands on the dresser, the wood making a loud smack sound as it connected with his palms. She jumped. “All my life I’ve been...You just don’t understand.”

“You have no other option, Draco,” said Y/N. 

“I...I know.”

~

The next few weeks were profoundly uncomfortable. If it wasn’t just for the fact that there had been a burglar turned home invader turned...whatever on the loose, Y/N was now dealing with the fact that her world as she knew it was turning upside down.

Draco was magic. He was different, and while this at first had been difficult for Y/N to believe, she began to realize just how much sense it made. The way the most ordinary of daily objects confused him...his discomfort with using the internet...his distaste for all of the people he met…either he was raised under a legitimate rock or he was telling the truth....

And perhaps the most conclusive revelation regarded his stance on his feelings towards her. After that night at Sylvia’s, Y/N had begun to think that there might be something there, or at least that something there might’ve been possible.

Now she knew that it wasn’t. And she had to be okay with that.

Draco was for the most part normal apart from the fact that his wariness around her was obvious. She could feel him keeping a close eye on her in the halls when she spoke with her friends. Sometimes he’d even level a look in her direction, a clear demand written all over his face: Not a word. You promised.

Evening teas stopped entirely. Draco ate in his room for breakfast and seldom said anything on the rides to and from school, and, to be entirely honest, it helped. She could feel her hopeless crush become weaker as the month of November wore on. Her giddy excitement towards a possible love interest was directed to the nervous dwellings on her UChicago application. 

Results were out on December 3rd, and she was absolutely buzzing. Fuck weird blond boys that came into her life and told her of an entire mystical and magical world out there--the gothic, hallowed architecture of UChicago was waiting for her. 

“Honey, it’s almost 5!” 

“I know.”

Y/N sat, cross legged on her bed, as she looked at the email she’d received moments ago from UChicago. In 3 minutes, the portal would open up. And her fate would be decided.

“Don’t open it yet, your father and I are coming!” Mrs. Y/L/N yelled from the kitchen. 

She smiled--for once, her father had managed to take a night off of work to be there for her. The only person missing in their home was Draco, and she supposed that he didn’t count anymore. At least not in the classic way. 

5:00pm.

“Hold on, hold on.” Her father’s voice carried down the hall, paired with the sound of feet thumping up the stairs.

Her parents appeared in the doorway, rushing to her and peeking over her shoulder.

“Are you ready to open it?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked, placing her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. 

“Uh...yes.” Her stomach flipped as she pressed her mouse over the blue hyperlink, directing the screen to show a login page. She wasn’t quite sure what it would look like--perhaps her decision would be right there when she logged in--but despite her racing thoughts, she input her portal information, pressed enter, and squeezed her eyes shut.

Dead silence.

“Honey.”

Her mother’s voice was strife with...some kind of emotion, whatever it was. Y/N dared to pry her eyelids open just a pinch, giving her just enough vision to read out the clear “CONGRATULATIONS” spanning the entirety of her page.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!”

The euphoria that followed was indescribable. Her father’s arms, encircling her shoulders in a way he hadn’t done since she was a child, her mother’s professions of how proud she was...incredible.

The only thing sullying it was a Draco shaped figure looming in the doorway once the hysteria died down.

“What happened?”

“I got into UChicago!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. 

He simply stared at her, his gaze cool and uninterested. Y/N felt all the joy drain from her face. “I hate to butt in, but I have some news too. I’ll be traveling back home for the holidays.”

“Oh.” Irritation was written clear as day across Mrs. Y/L/N’s face. “When will you be leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

final a/n: heyyyyyy everyone let me know what you thought. what do you guys think will happen next chapter? how do you think this is going to end overall? ik this is a draco x reader but do you guys think that draco still has a ways to go before he can have feelings for y/n? or does he already have them? im inch rested please lmk your thoughts

also my endless apologies to ohioans i did not mean to add the slander in there ik that plenty of you are lovely people <3 cancel me if you wish 

[beardrabbles]

rock solid bonds.       pt. two

characters: zhongli, female reader, gimel ( geo hypostasis )

warnings: none

word count: 2,520

notes: well, this took me too dang long to get to! got caught up writing other things, but i hope it was worth the wait. i’m fleshing out a plot for this along the way, and i’m hoping it makes sense in the end! but for now it’s just fluff. lottsa fluff and semi-slow burn. thank you for reading!! you’re a treasure.

Even if you hadn’t arrived at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor the night before and formally signed your name on the contract Zhongli had meticulously drawn out, you would have kept to your word and arrived at Gimel’s island the next morning as promised. You had little with you, since you were reminded with a rather stony voice that this was meant to be an exercise in understanding and not an opportunity for battle. All you had in your little bag was a tightly wrapped lunch, a book and another vial of the concoction you had brought the day before — just in case.

No weapons. No hostilities.

You felt odd keeping your hulking claymore out of sight, but it was for the best. You weren’t looking to actively sabotage yourself, after all, and the arrangement wasn’t an awful one. All Zhongli had asked of you was to be civil towards the hypostasis and to sincerely make up for the damage you had caused. No matter how unintentional it had been, you knew it was right thing to do.

“Gimel?” You had considered hiding behind one of the walls and calling out, but concealing yourself now seemed like a silly idea. Although, calling out the element’s name to the open air felt just as silly.

The ‘ arena ’ was empty, the domineering shadows of the surrounding outcroppings shifting away as the sun rose higher over the horizon. You couldn’t feel the usual vibrations through your feet, and that only added to your concern. Every hesitant step took you closer to the center of the circle that made up Gimel’s home.

Was it still afraid? Or had it fled knowing you would be visiting more frequently? You wondered if it were possible for it to take up residence elsewhere and if that would, somehow, spoil both of the contrats you had agreed to. Hot panic was on the verge of squeezing you hard around the chest when you heard a sign behind you.

Startled, you let out a little squawk and whipped around.

“Mr. Zhongli!” You were partially relieved to see him, partially irritated that he had approached so quietly. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“I apologize for the fright.” He sounded genuine, but the fact that his gaze was trained on the center of the circle didn’t elude you. “When did you arrive?”

“Not even five minutes ago.” You smiled sheepishly. “Had a rough morning, but I’m here.”

“I can see that.” A fleeting smirk flickered across his features before he pursed his lips and cast his eyes around the arena. “And our friend?”

“Hasn’t shown up.” You shifted uneasily but masked it as adjusting the shoulder straps of your pack. “Can’t really blame it.”

“Time and patience. Sincerity. The wounds you’ve left won’t be healed so soon.” Reminded your companion. You sighed and slipped your pack from your bag.

“I know. I just — I want this to go well.” You huffed and sat down heavily, pack beside you. When you looked up and found you were the only one seated, you patted at the ground beside you. Zhongli blinked once, processed the request, then came to join you. You weren’t sure why, but it was amusing watching a man so tall and proper folding his legs as he settled down. Yet he didn’t look the least bit out of place, his serene expression matching the gentle whisper of the wind. In the growing light of day, he seemed to glow, as if soaking in the blooming heat of the sun like light-starved soil and warming rocks.

“If that is your true desire, then I believe all will go according to plan.” He assured you. You were mesmerized for a moment — was that optimism or confidence? You couldn’t tell, but both were appreciated.

“You’re really sure?”

“I have been around for a long time, and I like to believe that I have become quite adept at reading people. Although.  .  .” He paused for a moment, lips turning down. You leaned in.

“Although?”

“Hu Tao says I can be quite oblivious at times.” Zhongli admitted. You snorted, drawing his attention.

“I wouldn’t have guessed it. Wait, Hu Tao. Isn’t she the director of the funeral parlor? Doesn’t that mean she’s your boss?” You asked. Zhongli nodded once, and you continued. “She doesn’t mind you slacking off and comin’ out here to see Gimel?”

“I am merely a consultant. My services are required only when they are needed. When I have no work to attend to, I tend to wander.”

You hummed and leaned back on your hands, eyes up towards the brightening sky. “Do you wander out here a lot?”

“I’ve found myself visiting Gimel more often as of late.” Zhongli said with a sideways glance. You frowned and refused to peek in his direction purely out of guilt. “I like to check on them every now and again, just to see if they’re recovering properly.”

“I didn’t think they needed to recover.” You grumbled.

“Our world is no different than our mortal forms,” started Zhongli, “it can and will hurt if people aren’t careful. We can leave wounds. Look around you — these islands are proof. Gimel is no exception. While it is acceptable to harvest from a hypostasis, harvesting too frequently can leave it permanently damaged. It needs time to rest, to regrow. Tell me, did you notice anything strange the last time you fought it?”

You thought back for a moment, trying to recall the last battle you engaged the hypostasis in. It had been two days ago, you remembered. It had rained heavily in the area, leaving the ground muddy, the stone slick and the sands clingy. It had been both a blessing as a curse, or you’d thought that then. Thinking back, you did think it strange that the basalt pillars it created weren’t as strong as usual. You wanted to blame the rain, but that had hardly been your first encounter with it in the middle of a drizzle.

 “I saw them crumbling. I thought it was the rain.” You finally answered.

“That is a logical assumption to make, but you are aware of the truth now.”

“Yeah, I am.” You slumped forward, elbows on your knees and chin held in your hands. “What about other people? What are we going to do if someone else comes here expecting to find Gimel?”

“We will give them the chance to change their mind.” Zhongli shut his eyes and took in a deep calming breath. “May I ask you something, Miss Y/N?”

“Sure. Go for it.” You shrugged and fell silent, allowing him the chance.

“Thank you. I hope I’m not being terribly invasive, but what were you doing before your contracts bound you?” The question was asked delicately, leaving you room to deny him an answer if it was one you were unwilling to give. And while it did surprise you, you weren’t sure that you had any reason not to answer.

“Honestly, nothing and everything. I didn’t have an actual job. I just sort of.  .  . did what people asked me to do. I ran errands, I lent a hand where it was needed, I’ve babysat.” You let out a small, bitter laugh. “Now I’m a servant for the damn——!”

You clamped your lips shut and shrank into yourself. Without looking, you knew Zhongli was staring sharply in your direction.

“For whom?”

“Does it matter?” You pulled your knees up and scowled into them. A moment quietly slid past, and you still felt his eyes on you. His piercing gaze bore a hole in the walls you had abruptly thrown up, and you found yourself squirming uncomfortably. “Fine, it’s the Treasure Hoarders.”

“I had ventured a guess, but I wanted to hear you say it.” Zhongli sighed through his nose. “Have they hurt you or your family?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“You anticipate a change?” He wondered.

“I’ve never known them to be totally honest. They’re a small group with a dumb name, but they’re loyal to their leader. Well, both leaders. The guy in charge thinks that if he can get me to find all these treasures for him, he can present them to whoever’s above him in the ranks and get himself a lovely, safe position in the group.” You scoffed. Zhongli arched a brow.

“You seem to know an awful lot about this mans intentions.” He pursued carefully. At this, you allowed the barest hint of a simper appear.

“He’s an idiot. He talks loud because he thinks it makes him intimidating. It only makes him look like a moron when he tells everyone within hearing distance what his plans are.”

Zhongli couldn’t help but to chuckle. “Am I to assume he is.  .  . how have I heard it phrased before? Ah, right. All brawn and no brains.”

It was your turn to laugh now, but the sound was a surprise when it left you. Despite your first encounter with him being tense and awkward, you realized now just how at ease you were around him. He radiated peace and understanding, calmness and patience. Lately, those were all feelings you had seen a distinct lack of. Where the Treasure Hoarders were brusk and unforgiving, Zhongli aimed to educate and reshape.

You wouldn’t have assumed for a moment that you would find yourself casually talking to him after all that had happened the day before, but you were glad for it.

“He is.” But as you both fell into a comfortable silence, you began to grow curious about the man beside you. You didn’t want to shatter the quiet you two had created, but the realization that you wouldn’t have many days like this with him prompted you to turn towards him and devote all of your attention to him. “When did you meet Gimel?”

Zhongli was taken aback, and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he had become too comfortable simply sitting next to you. His amber eyes fluttered, then grew distant, as if peering at something in the far-flung distance.

“I don’t believe it’s an exaggeration to say I’ve known them my whole life.” He started. “I can’t seem to think of a time when I haven’t known them. The form has changed, but they’re still the same.”

“Sounds like you’ve always been connected. Guess that explains the Geo Vision.” You leaned back to glance at the crystal attached to his coat. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, but realized he couldn’t see it. Instead, he settled for admiring you and the way your eyes shone when you glimpsed his faux Vision.

“Do you have one?” He asked.

“No.” You sighed loudly and fell back, laying across the stone and resting your hands on your stomach. “Visionless! Not worthy. Haven’t done anything in my life that warrants the gods blessing me.”

“I don’t believe that.” Zhongli frowned, his stony expression marred momentarily by disapproval. “Lacking a Vision does not make a person unworthy.”

“But it does make the people that have one super special, right?”

“I.  .  .” Zhongli stopped, made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, then rerouted his thoughts. “You don’t believe you’re special?”

“Not at all. Do you?”

“Do I what? Believe I am special because I have a Vision, or do I believe that you are special?” His counter question was sudden and took you aback, like a sudden slap to the face. You gaped, and when you didn’t answer, he dared to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You huffed.

“Your face. It turned the most interesting shade of red just then.” The smile he passed you was soft and kind with the faintest trace of amusement. You felt your cheeks burn hotter and quickly turned away to hide it, but it was too late. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss yourself. I sense potential in you.”

Your stomach knotted and your lungs were madly aflutter, all thanks to those words. Out of habit, you wanted to deny him, but the tender way he spoke was too reassuring not to latch onto.

“You’d be the first to.” You spared him a quick, embarrassed glance. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. It costs nothing to build a person up.” He reminded. You frowned, but not out of unhappiness. There was now a solid, burning determination in your eyes that Zhongli barely glimpsed when you stood. “What are you up to?”

“You just said that it doesn’t cost anything to build a person up. It should be the same for elements, right?” You grinned broadly, then cupped your mouth with your hands. “Gimel! I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I want you to know that I’ve always thought you were really amazing looking!”

You paused, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Looking down your shoulder, you found Zhongli nodding approvingly.

“You, uh.  .  . Actually, if I’m being honest, I’ve seen a few hypostasis! I’ve seen the ones in Mondstadt, and the one in Dragonspine! You were always the one I was the most excited to see, even if it was to come fight you. You’ve been the toughest too. And I’m sorry!” You enthusiastic shouting was met with silence, but you thought for a moment that you felt the ground beginning to vibrate again.

As quickly as the sensation came, it left again, leaving the bottoms of your feet feeling numb. Had the hypostasis acknowledged you, or had you mistaken your quickly beating heart and rushing blood for the thrum of an elemental life force?

Your shoulders drooped, and your chest felt heavy.

“Don’t lose hope. I think what you said was lovely.” Zhongli encouraged. You sat down again and dragged your pack forward, drawstrings loosened.

“Thanks. I know you’re right. I know it’s going to take more than just saying nice things to fix what I did, but I’m going to do it. Even if we hadn’t made that contract, I’d be here.” You pulled out the lunch you had brought with you and carefully unwrapped it. “But all that shouting made me hungry, and we’ll be here for a little while longer. You want some? I made it myself.”

Zhongli made to shake his head, but you gave him a stern glare before he could.

“Don’t even. You need to eat too, you know.” You portioned out your food, placed it in his hand, then giddily began to scarf down your half. Zhongli felt an odd stirring in his chest as he glanced down at the food you’d prepared. You misunderstood the sudden admiration and gratitude for hesitation, so you nudged him gently. “I’m not the best cook in the world, but I’m not bad either! Trust me, it’s decent.”

“It smells wonderful.” Zhongli bowed his head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it! Quick, eat it up before it gets cold.” You paused your chewed and pocketed the bite in your cheek. “I can bring something tomorrow too if you end up liking that. Sound good?”

Zhongli nodded, and the feeling in his chest grew more agitated. “I look forward to it.”

[chaiscentedcandle]

Like You (George Weasley x fem!reader)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: George Weasley

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Y/n can’t find anybody else like George

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: none

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lil angsty, cursing, mentions of food, gets happy towards the end!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,461

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is inspired by my all time freaking favorite Doja Catsong, Streets, omg I love it, I also had a different idea for this song but as I was writing it just took a turn so I might write another one but it’ll be different, but anyways if you guys haven’t listened to Streets you should omgggg but you don’t have too!! Anyways I hope you guys like it!💗💗 I ONLY USED KATIE BELL AS DRAMA NO KATIE BELL SLANDER🤚🏼

Like you, like you

Like you, ooh

I found it hard to find someone like you

To say Y/n love life was sad was kinda far behind it, sure he’s dated boys in the past before, but the feelings never stayed. She dated boys and not men because back then her judgement never got the best of her. She did feel bad that after only a few weeks of dating she questioned her feelings, they’d gone so soon but why?

Like you, like you

Send your location come through

I can’t sleep no more

In my head we belong

Y/n always felt like she was doing something wrong when she broke up with them, it wasn’t their fault she lost feelings she just....did. Dating is hard, it’s very hard and no one will tell you that, all these other people make it look easy and fun but it’s just the exact opposite.

And I can’t be without you

Why can’t I find no one like you?

I can’t sleep no more

In my head we belong

Maybe dating was hard because your soul knew the person your with is not the person you want to be with. Maybe it’s hard because deep down you know you won’t have a future with said person and it feels like waisted time. Maybe datings hard because the person you want to be with is with someone else.

These thoughts plagued Y/n and George at night. In each other’s head they belonged together.

And I can’t be without you

Why can’t I find no one like you?

Baby, we tried to fight it

We all been there some days

Sometimes it’s not just hard for one party, sometimes it’s hard for the other party as well. Because George has been in love with Y/n for as long as he could remember, his best friend, and it didn’t feel weird to be in love with her, he tried to push his feelings down, so far down that he couldn’t feel them, yet the feelings are too strong.

Thought I need something else

And acted like I was okay

We just had to work it out

And baby, I needed space

George thought maybe if he dated someone else things would be okay instead of acting like it was okay. He needed to work things out, he gave himself space from Y/n which not only left her confused but Fred as well, he tells everything to Fred so why is he distancing himself from her?.

So when he started dating Katie Bell, it didn’t feel right. Something in his gut told him it wasn’t right and he shouldn’t be doing it, but how could he tell his best friend he’s in love with her? She probably wasn’t even in love with him, he wasn’t even Katie’s first choice.

Ain't nobody 'round here wrong

You love all yours so far away

You're pouring your heart out

I'm acting like I knew

George and Katie’s relationship didn’t last long, he refused to kiss her and only wanted to hold her hand, anytime she’d try to find way to kiss him he’d make a silly excuse to slip away. After a few months they finally split, he couldn’t deny how he felt towards Y/n anymore, he’s been denying it too long.

Late at night he would create scenarios where he poured his heart out to Y/n and she acted like she knew already, his words were moving and he didn’t stumble over his words and they’d share a fiery kiss. Every night he wished something like that would happen.

You held me so down

So down I never grew, oh

I tried to find out

When none of them came through

Before George could confess his feelings for Y/n she also dated someone for a span of months, Adrian Pucey. Adrian Pucey was well known around the school, being on the Slytherin quidditch team had its perks, but Y/n never knew why he was well known for it, other people had been on the quidditch team.

Adrian Pucey put Y/n in a corner when he asked her to be his girlfriend in front of everyone at the great hall, Y/n was speechless for a moment, of course it had to be in front of everyone, if she said no she’d be seen as a heartless bitch. Y/n convinced herself that maybe since George had dated someone else she should too.

Their relationship lasted shorter then George and Katie’s. Adrian had no idea what to do with a relationship nor how to treat a women, he was cold and mean to Y/n, he always backed her into a corner and called her names when she didn’t agree with him, so in a flurry of emotions she broke up with him in front of a decent sized group of people. She felt like he had held her down, she’s a delicate flower who’s trying to blossom into a beautiful hibiscus but Adrian was a slug who was holding her down from growing.

And now I'm stuck in the middle

And baby had to pull me out, oh

Like you, like you

Like you, ooh

George was beyond aggravated when Adrian had asked Y/n out, his Y/n, Fred tried to talk to him later that day in the common room. “Y/n is her own person and can date whoever she wants” Fred told him, “yeah, but it’s angering too see her with some prat as Adrian Pucey”. Ron had butted into the conversation to joke and say that the twins roles had been reversed and one was acting like the other, alas he was told to shut up.

Before Y/n had broken up with Adrian he tried to figure out all the things wrong Adrian was doing, he could’ve made a bullet point list of a few pages from the things he picked up on. He brought them all to Y/n’s attention, she didn’t deny them because, well, she already knew. She had no idea why she was with him. She was more than grateful that George had helped pull her out from the middle.

I found it hard to find someone like you

Like you, like you

Send your location, come through (Yeah)

Damn papa, you a rare breed, no comparing

Now that they are both single George thought it would be a great time to tell Y/n how he feels, but it’s harder done than said. Anytime he’d find a lull in a conversation or comfortable silence he could feel his heart wanting to tell her, wearing to tell her but his mouth just wouldn’t move and his brain just wouldn’t function.

Y/n also wanted to tell George how she felt for so long but could never come to either, whenever they’d be apart from each other she’d have other students or friends come find her then tell her George was looking for her, he’s always looking for her. Y/n thought most of the guys at Hogwarts were just like Adrian, but when she left Adrian she realized there was many guys way different then Adrian, like George, he wasn’t like anyone she’s really seen and it took her this long to realize how rare he is.

And it's motherfuckin' scary

Tryna keep him 'cause I found him

Let a hoe know, I ain't motherfuckin' sharing

I could take you to the parents, then to Paris

Rumors began to spread that Katie was wanting George back, people said she was very sulky and quiet. Her friends said all she brought up was George and how annoying it was getting. “She spends most of her time talking about George, she’s had a few nights where all she talked about was him, it’s quite annoying actually” recalled one of her friends.

This made Y/n jealous. She tried to not get jealous but George had said he was done with Katie. Her mother always told her jealousy is bad medicine. Y/n couldn’t help the way she felt, she knows not to surprise feelings so she embraced it instead, she was jealous and she had a right to be. She waited this long, she didn’t want to share.

You the type I wanna marry (Yeah) and keep you merry

I'll put the ring on when you ready

We play our fantasies out in real life ways and

Y/n’s friend group who consisted of George, Fred, Lee, and Angelina had been talking about the situation in the Gryffindor common room, Y/n was slumped in a arm chair with her arms and legs crossed. She wasn’t pleased to hear the situation again, the students at Hogwarts grabbed onto any drama like a leech. “Are you okay, Y/n?” Angelina asked her, giving a glance to her then to the fire “I’m fine” she mumbled

No Final Fantasy, can we end these games though?

You give me energy, make me feel lightweight

Like the birds of a feather, baby

We real life made for each other

The drama started to disperse, people started to find other things to talk about. Y/n finally felt like she could breathe and she didn’t have to hear someone mumbling about Katie and George. Of course it couldn’t last forever, at lunch everyone chatted about something in the Great Hall. Katie and her friends sat more towards the front of the table while Y/n and her friends sat more towards the middle, Y/n noticed how Katie couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering. Soon Fred picked up on what was happening.

“Oi! George! Looks like a certain someone can’t take her eyes off you” as soon as it passed Fred’s lips, Y/n had tightly gripped a piece of bread she had been eating, crunching sound from the crust and crumps falling to her plate. George nudged her “are you alright?” He asked,Y/n didn’t even look up “I’m fine, do I not look fine?” She snapped. George hadn’t said another word.

Y/n felt like she was stuck in a game she’s meant to lose. To her luck, Katie came wondering over to their part of the table, you could tell she was nervous and she was playing with her fingers. She stopped in front of George “u-uhm, George?” She said quietly, almost to quiet. George looked up from his plate, meeting her eyes “yes?” He said confused. Katie played with her fingers more “i....I just wanted to say that, uhm....I miss you, quite a bit actually” she tucked her hair behind her ear and casted her gaze to the floor “and I was wondering if we could possibly....try again?” George was speechless, and shocked, sure Katie is a nice girl but she’s not his, not when his flower is sitting next to him, clearly seething. However, George didn’t want to embarrass her by saying no, he didn’t want to embarrass her like that. “Uhm...I’ll-I’ll think about it” Katie gave a silent “okay!” With a smile and walked back to her spot, a slight skip in her step.

This only aggravated Y/n more, why couldn’t George be the one to give her so much energy from just a single glance that made her head spin, why wouldn’t he make Y/n feel weightless. Why couldn’t they be birds of a feather?, maybe thinking they were made for each other didn’t really mean they were.

And it's hard to keep my cool

When other bitches tryna get with my dude and

When other chickens tryna get in my coop

'Cause you're a one in a million

There ain’t no man like you

Y/n didn’t want to cause a scene but it didn’t take a fool to notice how affected she was by what Katie had done, especially George’s response. Grabbing her bag, she stood up from her seat hastily and speed walked out of the Great Hall. Her cold and hard stare could send shivers down your spine, she looked like she was ready to exploded any second.

Maybe it was just her head telling her that George was hers, they hadn’t really talked about it for that matter. George had watched her leave the Great Hall, he kept his eyes in the direction she left still, his lips pressed into a fine line, his brain was running around with what he should do. He didn’t move until Hermione said something “well, what are you doing? Go after her!” He didn’t give it a second thought and was out the door.

It wasn’t long before George found Y/n at a spot over looking the Great Lake. Her elbow rested on a ledge with her chin in her hand, she looked a little more calm. George stood next to her, Y/n glanced at him then back to the lake. “What’s wrong?” George said, Y/n gave him another quick glance before she spoke “I thought you said you were done with Katie Bell” she had nothing against Katie, not really, she was just jealous. “I am” George said, Y/n rolled her eyes “didn’t look like it” she replied. Y/n didn’t want to hear it anymore, she turned on her heel to leave but only making a few steps before George grabbed her arms and turned her towards him “I don’t love her!” George said defensively “why are you so jealous anyways?” Y/n scoffed, she wasn’t going to admit she was jealous “I’m not jealous” she mumbled “yes, you are! Why are you jealous?” He repeated “because you’re one in a million! There’s no man like you! I want you for myself” Y/n spoke before she could think.

Like you, like you

Like you, ooh

I found it hard to find someone like you

Like you, like you

Y/n and George couldn’t believe what she had said, George often doubted himself but to hear that from someone he loves. It was refreshing. “I don’t love her” George said again “I love you” the tension was so thick you could cut it with a butcher knife. One was waiting for the other to do something. Y/n’s hands had been shaking a little, George was playing with his pointer finger and staring at his shoes, it was so unreal to them that they both were dumb enough to not see they both fancied each other.

Slowly Y/n took a few steps forward, she wrapped her arms around George’s neck and pulled him in. He buried his face in her neck “it was hard to find someone like you, and I don’t want to let you go” Y/n whispered “I don’t want to let you go either” George added. They both pulled away to look at each other, looking each other in the eyes to find something. George placed a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead then placed his on hers. Finally they got to have each other.

[votederpycausemufins]

Here’s another chapter! Y’all are gonna hate the ending.

@petrichormeraki

Grian knocked on the closet door. “Hey Xannes, I know you’re in there.”

“I’m busy! Go away!” Evil Xisuma’s voice came from inside.

“If you don’t come out now, I can get rid of the door completely and let people see inside. NPG’s told me it’s private information, but I’m sure sharing would be fine.”

There was silence before Xannes spoke again. “I’ll be right out!” There was a bit of clattering and then the hels admin opened the door as little as he could while also being able to squeeze through it.

“Nice sweater.” Grian pointed at the bright pink and yellow sweater Xannes was wearing before he quickly pulled it off and balled it up before throwing it into the closet.

“What the fuck do you want?” Then he looked over at Tommy. “And why is he here?”

“We need to get back to Hermitcraft and that’s Tommy. He’s from our dimension, not this one. We already met Theseus.”

Xannes crossed his arms. “And what do I get out of it?”

“You could come visit Hermitcraft again?” Mumbo suggested, but the admin just shook his head. “I thought you wanted that.”

“Oh, of course I do, but you know how I’m always visiting with NPG? That’s because my brother won’t let me in without him. Since he’s busy with Theseus, I can’t go anywhere.”

“Hey, before we left visiting, he said something about messaging you. Any chance that could be about NPG?” Tommy piped up.

Xannes hummed in acknowledgement before pressing something on his helmet. “So he did. Something I’ll need to tell Prof about. He’s actually going to be away for a few days to visit family. Something about seeing distorted mirrors or whatever.” He pressed the button again. “Alright, call NPG here and we can go.”

“Do I really need to discuss this? I have gone over this with my one dad before and have recovered from the events connected to my brainwashing.” Grum tried reasoning with Puffy who was insisting he had a therapy session with her. “I think there are more important matters to discuss other than my mental health.” 

“Your mental health is extremely important. Especially when you’re stuck in an unfamiliar place. And I’m not sure that having your dad as a therapist is the best practice.”

Grum frowned. “Technically a therapist should not have any relation with their patient outside of business work, usually up to three years I believe. But our admin is not fond of us leaving our world, so Daddy is the only option.”

“Well a second opinion would still be a good idea.” Puffy said, and Grum sighed before slumping in his seat. “I’m guessing that’s you reluctantly agreeing?”

“Yes, however I do have a condition.”

“What’s that?”

Grum gave a slight smirk. “That’s to have a significant influence on or determine the manner or outcome of something. But that’s not important right now. My condition is That between your questions for me, you allow me to ask my own questions.”

“Alright, but I may not answer everything you ask. Somethings may be a bit hard to hear or take too much explaining.”

“That is better than nothing.”

“Alright, so your brother mentioned you were brainwashed. How did that happen?”

“On our server, a system was started to buy plots of land on which to build shops, a ten by ten meter area being sold for one diamond block. It was started as a joke, but everyone went along with it. Soon there was a large diamond pile sitting in the middle of the shopping district. Dad thought someone needed to be in charge of it and created a town hall to place the blocks in and then created an election for mayor, nominating Daddy as a candidate. There were five total candidates, but by election, one had dropped out. One of the candidates was someone named Stress.

“She joined the election with Iskall as her running mate with a slogan and choice of colors. Meanwhile I was created to help my dads win. Just before the official election, Iskall appeared at my platform to get ideas from me. I refused to help anyone other than my dads, so he broke in and rewired me. Dad tried to help fix me when he found out what happened, but he does not know redstone well and only slightly fixed it. Daddy then came over and fixed me, but at that point, the stress of what happened and the fact that it was election day and it didn’t seem like my dads were winning ended with me breaking down.”

“That does sound like a lot to happen to someone so young. Even if as a robot you have the mental capacity of someone older, from what you’ve told me, you aren’t even a year old yet.”

“Correct.”

“Now, you said certain slogan and certain colors. What-”

“No. It is my turn for a question. Do you know someone by the name of Tommy Innit?”

“Uh, yes I do.” Puffy replied, waiting for Grum to ask more, but he simply nodded. “Are you going to ask more?”

“No. I have asked my question and now it is your turn.”

“Right. What were those colors and slogan?”

“I do not want to repeat the slogan. However, Stress was fond of alliums and used their dye.”

“Well then, that seems like something we should cover. The slogan likely may be a trigger to you.”

“Yes. How do you know Tommy?”

“I’ve… met him and his family before.”

Grum narrowed his eyes. “Is that all you are willing to say?”

“It’s my turn for a question.” Puffy responded, and Grum had to concede to his own rules. “How are you around Stress and Iskall?”

“Fine. They are my aunt and auncle now. Stress may have been running, but Iskall was acting on his own. At the time they were unaware how sentient of a being I was and is greatly apologetic for what they have done. They are very close with my dads and usually messed with things they ade, so at the time it seemed no different to him. Is Tommy from this server.”

“From this server? No, I believe he’s from SMP Earth.”

Grum had to keep himself from cursing. Now he was sure she was dodging his questions.

“Have you ever had negative experiences around Stress and Iskall after the initial incident?”

“Yes, the most prominent was when I first saw Iskall after getting my new body. After that was when I found a campaign sign that had not been taken down.” Grum paused before asking his question, having an idea. “If I asked you to give me a diamond and ask me a certain question with the guarantee that afterwards I would let you ask all your own questions and none more from me, would you do it?”

“I… suppose I could. I would have to find a dia-” Grum pulled one of on his inventory, always keeping a few on him for Jrum. “I guess that will work, what’s the question?”

“Ask me ‘Who is Tommy Innit?’”

This time Puffy looked unsure, but reluctantly she handed Grum the diamond back and asked the question. The diamond disappeared as it started up Grum’s system. He was primed, he bootloaded his brain, he flooded the mayoral reservoirs and then, he found the answer.

“Tommy Innit is the youngest son of Philza Minecraft, former ruler of the Antarctic Empire. He has three brothers. After the decline of the Antarctic Empire, Tommy was allowed to join the ↸∷ᒷᔑᒲ ᓭᒲ!¡ ᔑリ↸ ∴ᒷリℸ ̣  𝙹リ ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- Gᒷt ⊣o∷gᒷo⚍s.”

Grum was holding his head. Something was wrong. It.. purple. Why was it purple? He couldn’t think right. Why? Why again? Was it because they were talking about it all and he tried to access the mayoral reservoirs? “⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. !¡∷𝙹ᓵᒷᓭᓭ𝙹∷ ⎓ᔑ╎ꖎ╎リ⊣. ∷ᒷ!¡ᔑ╎∷ᓭ リᒷᒷ↸ᒷ↸. ꖎ𝙹ᓵᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ ᔑ↸ᒲ╎リ╎ᓭℸ ̣ ∷ᔑℸ ̣ 𝙹∷. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑-⍑ e l p m e. D a d s h e l p m e!”

“Du du du, du du durudu, du du du duuu! D-d-dance Grian! Du du du, du du durudu, guinea pig dance! D-d-dance Grian!” Jrumbot was singing while in the nether, mining up some quartz, both for redstone as well as for snacks. “Du du du, du du durudu, du du du duuu! D-d-dance Grian! Du du du, du du durudu, guinea pig dance! Dance dance dance dance da-da-dan guinea pig, guinea pig, guinea pig, guinea pig. Dance dance dance dance dancedance, guinea pig dance!”

He heard the sound of a piglin and immediately stopped to make sure his gold booties were on, glad to see they were, then he realized that it wasn’t actually a piglin, but a zombie piglin, and a young one at that. Then, he realized it wasn’t just a normal sound. The noises were in the same tune as the song he had just been singing. “Hello? Is someone there?”

The noises stopped and jrum would furrow his brow if he had one. Then he got an idea. “Well! I guess I was just hearing things!” He said a little louder than needed before going back to the song. This time he paid attention as the humming of a baby ziglin started up again and Jrum started walking towards it, lowering his voice volume so whoever it was couldn’t tell he was coming closer.

Finally Grum found a hole and peaked inside, scaring the young Ziglin. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I just heard you humming along to me!” They were quiet, but Jrum did get a wave from the mob. “My name is Jrum! What’s yours?”

The Ziglin snorted and Jrum smiled. “Oh! Michael is a very nice name! What are you doing in a hole?” Another few snorts. “Huh, I guess that makes sense. My dads kept my brother in a box until it was okay to move him so he could get a body like the one I’m in! I got mine at the same time too by the way.”

Jrum chatted with Michael for a bit before something was said that made the ziglin sad. “Aww, what’s wrong?” Jrum asked, listening to the snorts in response. “Aww, well I hope Boo can find Bee. I got lost once and my dads found me, so I’m sure that your parents can find each other too!” A single happy snort. “Yes, Boo! He can do it. Wait behind me?”

Michael had shaken his head and pointed behind Jrum. When the robot turned around, he had to crane his head up at the figure that towered above him. They were half black and half white with the purple eyes of an enderman, streaks going down on the white side of their face from the eye. Jrum thought he also saw some mirrored on the black side, but it was hard to tell.”

“Who are you and why are you with Michael?”

“Um, I’m Jrum and I was mining in here while singing and then Michael sang along and now we’re friends.”

“I see. And what were you mining for?”

“Quartz! I’m a robot and so is my brother and we eat quartz instead of normal food, plus I need it for some redstone things.”

“I see. And are you-”

“Am I what?” Jrum asked when the person stopped talking, their eyes fading from purple and into green and red.

“Oh! Hello! Who are you?”

“Um… Jrum?” Jrum was confused by a number of things. The person’s changing eye colors, the repeated question, the tone of their voice changing from serious to chipper and finally the change to the common language. “You asked that already.”

“I did?” He asked, and then pulled out a book. “I don’t have anything written down about meeting someone like you.”

“Well we just met a minute ago. You asked what I was doing with Michael.”

“Oh, did you make a friend Michael?” The young ziglin nodded and then the person started writing in his book.

“Um, so what’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Ranboo.”

Jrum smiled a little at the name. “Oh! Michael said his parents were Bee ‘n Boo, so you must be Boo!”

“That’s right. You’re able to understand him?”

“Yep!” Jrum nodded. “When I go to visit my sort of big brother he lets me visit Prof and Prof likes to give me presents like a language translator! My brother has one too!”

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“He’s Grum. We sort of got stuck in this world for a bit but we’re gonna try and find a way back and even if we can’t I’m sure our dads can find us!” Ranboo nodded and wrote down more in his book, making Jrum speak up again. “What’s that?”

“Oh, um… It’s my memory book. I’m not… entirely the best at remembering, so I write stuff down.”

“Oh! That’s cool!” Jrum smiled. “Well, I’m gonna go back to mining! Bye Michael! Bye Dad Boo!” And Jrum skipped away, humming a new song that mentioned being AFK.

“Mumbo! Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo!” Grian started shouting, trying to get the redstoner’s attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Look!” And Grian shoved his communicator in Mumbo’s face. “They’re alive! Or at least… they’re not completely gone!”

Tommy and Phil also came over to see what was going on as Mumbo read messages on Grian’s comm. “They both ran out of battery.”

“Yes! I mean, it’s not good because I doubt they have a way to charge again, which is not a good sign, but it means that they’re not gone forever!”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Phil asked and Grian showed him the phone.

“We set something up a while ago so we get notifications for them when something happens like they run out of battery or get badly damaged. Looking at the timestamps, these were sent while we were in Helscraft, but we didn’t get the notifications until coming back to this dimension.”

“Is there any way to track the signal?” Tubbo asked, making Grian light up.

“Maybe! It would take a lot of time though, so it might be good to have someone here work on that while we check the-” Grian stopped, his comm buzzing. “What?”

Tommy leaned in to read the new messages.

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a processing error

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a database error

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a mental error

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[ladylouoflothlorien]

Sleeping Desires - Part 1

Bofur x Female Reader Word count: 2018 WARNING: This fic will contain mature themes, absolutely do not read this if you are underage, thank you. (18+ only) Summary: This was affectionately titled “Bofur LEMONS for LUNA???” in my google drive, and I think that’s all you need to understand this. It was born from the idea of Bofur having a crush on (read: utterly all-consuming devotion for) the reader, but thinking that it was unreciprocated until he overhears her having a rather explicit dream. This fic will be a multi-part, potentially 2 but most likely 3, so stay tuned.  Additionally, I have turned this into a game of ‘how many euphemisms can I come up with for dwarves?’ This part contains 5, and I’m pretty proud of that.

Bofur settled down with his pipe, back against a tree, as he prepared himself for the long and lonely dark of the middle shift of the night watch. For the earlier shifts, it would not be wholly unusual for other members of the company to still be awake, but by the middle shift the only person not asleep would be the one on watch. That was not to say that Bofur didn’t welcome the solitude. It was true that he was generally a far more outgoing and jovial dwarf than the rest of the motley crew of companions he found himself travelling with, and it was also true that he generally preferred not to be by himself, but there was another truth that he had come to find in recent months; some things are far easier to indulge in when there are no prying eyes to catch you at it.

Now, the particular indulgence that had led to this realisation was not at all a shameful one - leastways not in his estimation of the word - but he had his own reasoning for wanting it to be private all the same.

Bofur took a long drag of his pipe and slowly exhaled the smoke, watching the grey tendrils climb higher and higher before disappearing altogether, and then he finally turned his gaze to the human woman curled up in her bedroll beside him. It was sweet, he thought, how she seemed to have this habit of making herself smaller as she slept, tucking her legs up until the lump created by her sleeping form appeared not all that dissimilar in size to a dwarrowdam. Most dwarrow he knew tended to stretch themselves out when they slept, making themselves look as big as possible. The dwarf thought back as he had done many times to the moment Gandalf had introduced the woman to their company, claiming she’d been sent by the grace of the Valar from another world to assist them in their quest. Gandalf had not specified which of the Valar had been involved in that decision, though if Bofur had to hazard a guess, he’d say it was most likely Mahal scheming to get one of his own married off, for Durin himself knew Bofur would wife her if he had the chance.

But Bofur did not think he would. He knew his own merits as a Dwarf to be sure, and he knew he was a long way off unattractive - both in his looks and his merry personality - but he also knew that he was judging himself on the standards of his own kind. He had no idea what would or would not be appealing to a human woman.

His infatuation for the woman was the source of his new indulgence, which was essentially to gaze upon her most comely form as much as was dwarvenly possible. His desire to keep this indulgence a secret came from his belief that she very likely did not feel the same. As long as none of the other dwarves picked up on what he was doing, he could avoid both the embarrassment she would feel at having to - no doubt - politely but firmly decline his interest and the humiliation that would follow for himself at being rejected in a place where he would be stuck without a place to hide and lick his metaphorical wounds.  

Tonight he had placed his bedroll beside hers - though at a respectable distance apart - and he had set up for watch against the tree that brought him still closer to her. He did not do this as often as he would like, for he was incredibly conscious that if he did so it would be noticed by at least one other member of the company. What would then follow would be relentless teasing, and then no doubt his secret would be outed to all. No, Bofur was very content to merely snatch the few precious moments he could to gaze upon the woman in complete secrecy and thereby forego the risk of discovery.

Bofur was torn from his current line of thought by a quiet groan, and after a moment he realised it had come from the very woman occupying the entirety of the free space in his brain. The dwarf frowned. Was she in pain? Was she having a nightmare? Normally she was very quiet when she slept, turning or shifting her position maybe once or twice throughout the night. It was a stark contrast from the dwarves who kicked and flailed and snored loud enough to rattle the tiles off a roof - that is, if there was a roof over their heads, which more often than not on the journey there hadn’t been. The woman rolled over onto her back, and only then did Bofur notice the flush on her cheeks and the furrow between her brows. He felt a cold pit in his stomach, naturally assuming that she had caught a fever, but then her fingers loosely fisted the thin fabric of her blanket and her plump lips parted to let out a quiet but distinct moan. Bofur froze. Or at least, most of him did. Beneath the fabric of his breeches, his treacherous Dwarven steel twitched slightly. The dwarf swallowed and tried not to think on it, forcing his body to relax somewhat and pretend he hadn’t heard anything. The lass was sleeping, and the sound had not been meant for him, he would not dishonour her by pretending that it was. Still, he could not take his eyes off her, and guiltily drank in the sight of her squirming under her covers. Bofur did not think he would ever be granted a more wondrous sight, and so he could hardly be blamed for not averting his eyes. Besides… Whatever line of thought he’d been about to pursue, it was completely halted when the woman’s lips parted once more. “O-Oh, Bofur…” The sheer speed at which a certain part of his body stood to attention was frankly impressive.  Up until that point, though the substance of her dream had been fairly clear, he’d had no indication of who exactly she’d been dreaming of. Now it seemed as though he had confirmation that she was dreaming of him. Bofur couldn’t quite believe it, but then she moaned his name again, and Bofur was really, really trying not to watch the swell of her generous breasts as her quickened breath made them rise and fall more dramatically than usual. Bofur was used to dwarrowdams, who had little more than was strictly necessary to nurse a child…

The Dwarf looked away suddenly, blushing, and feeling rather like a voyeur even though he hadn’t - and could not have - expected that this would happen when he settled down beside her. But then he could hear the sound of her shifting against her sheets, continuing to whine softly under her breath, and he had to look back. Bofur was startled to see that all her shifting about had brought her blanket down around her waist and oh sweet Durin’s Beard this was too much. The strings holding her blouse closed had loosened, allowing the shirt open, and the dwarf was only barely saved from - or maybe robbed of - a glimpse at her pert nipples. His miner’s mattock was rock hard, straining against his breeches and practically begging for some attention, and Bofur had to fist his hands against the dirt to stop himself from doing just that. Bofur refused to get himself off to the dreaming woman. If there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a pervert. Oh, he might’ve gotten himself off quietly thinking of her once or twice - or maybe more than that - but he was certain that there was a line, however thin, between thinking of her whilst he did so and actually doing it with her sleeping form right beside him, letting out little sounds that were not truly meant for him to hear… even if they were meant for a version of him in her dreams.

Oh Mahal she was dreaming of him. The reality of that hit him again, and he had to thud his head back firmly against the tree at his back to clear his mind of any mental imagery the thought conjured. The woman herself wasn’t exactly being helpful. Bofur didn’t quite have the strength to look away, and he could see her hips writhing so aggressively he was truly impressed she hadn't jolted herself awake by now. The miner had to quickly swallow a groan when he looked at her expression again, with her face contorted in pleasure and her bottom lip swollen slightly from being bitten. Suddenly, she threw her head back and her lips parted in a silent scream as her thighs shook violently, and then she slumped back down against her bedroll, panting like she’d just been running. It took Bofur’s mind a second to catch up with what had actually happened before he realised that she had just had a real orgasm from a dream about him, but when it finally clicked the amount of blood that rushed downwards made him so lightheaded he had to plant his palms firmly against the ground to stop himself from falling to the side. The woman groaned softly in obvious contentment, and rolled onto her side, now facing his direction.

“Mmmm, warn a girl before fucking her senseless why don’t you…”  

Now, Bofur really hadn’t needed that. It was honestly a wonder that her words hadn’t made him cum right then and there. After a moment he noticed that his own breathing was almost as fast as hers had been, and he took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. It didn’t really work.

About 20 minutes later, when Bofur was sure the woman was actually sleeping properly and wouldn’t be putting on the same display for anyone else, he woke up the dwarf who would be relieving him from his shift on watch; Oin. In all that time, his spear had remained upright, trying to poke through his clothing. A rather unfortunate truth began to dawn on him when he settled down in his own bedroll and attempted to sleep - he wouldn’t be getting any rest until he took care of his little problem and polished his sword. He was ridiculously grateful that it was Oin on watch, as the old dwarf was certain to get tired of holding up his ear trumpet at some point, and when he did he wouldn’t be able to hear the kinds of quiet sounds Bofur would be making and attempting to muffle. Sure enough a few minutes later, the trumpet was lowered, and as surreptitiously as possible Bofur snatched his hat off his head to use as a cover over his mouth in case he wasn’t quite able to catch all his groans in his throat. One hand shakily slipped down into his breeches, fingers curling firmly around the handle of his axe. It was difficult, but he managed to force his hips to remain still as he brought himself to completion quickly, knowing that Oin would likely notice if he moved around too much. He stubbornly tried not to think of the woman, but the tighter his pleasure coiled in his belly the more his mind strayed to her face, thrown back during the height of her passionate dream. In the end, he guiltily visualised her, trying to imagine just what exactly she had dreamt about. It didn’t take him long to spill over his hand, and he cleaned himself up as best as he could with a spare undershirt that already badly needed cleaning. Bofur fixed his hat back on his head, and though he supposed he should really be embarrassed with what he’d just done, he wasn’t. He was certain Oin hadn’t noticed after all, Mahal bless him. Bofur shuffled around on his bedroll until he found a comfortable position and it didn’t take long before his eyes closed and a peaceful sleep claimed him for the rest of the night.  Forever Tags: @sweeticedtea​ @cd1242​ @strongandfreedc​ @pixierox101​ @jotink78​ @luna-xial​ @underthemoon-n​

[autumnsart22]

Oikawa x reader ch. 11

Hey so I created some Iwa backstory a little bit in this chapter just to make things interesting, but none of this is canon lol

I woke up slowly the next morning, groggily blinking my eyes at the early afternoon sunlight, which shone through the window into the room. I shifted my position, yawning, not really wanting to get up. I was so comfortable. 

I felt something stir beside me, and every muscle in my body froze as my mind jolted awake. Opening my eyes fully, I realized that I was currently curled into Oikawa’s arms, my face against his chest and my legs tangled with his. 

What in the FUCK. 

Apparently, I had rolled off the couch in the middle of the night and ended up next to him. I had no idea how else we could have gotten to this point. 

I shifted slightly, trying not to wake him up, and I noticed that Iwaizumi wasn’t in his sleeping bag. Was he already awake? 

Using miniscule movements, I slowly got Oikawa’s arms from around me and shimmied away without him waking up. My eyes caught on the setter’s face, and I paused. He was so relaxed in his sleep, his hair all mussed up and his lips slightly parted. There was no sign of his arrogant and fake smile, no tension or pressure on his shoulders. I wished I could keep him like this all the time. 

Heart racing, I reached out gently and brushed his hair away from his face, pushing it back with a sigh. My chest ached with how much I wanted him. He was so pretty, I wanted to cry. 

Pulling away, I scrambled to my feet and hurried to the bathroom. It would never happen. Wanting him would just end in heartache. 

I took a deep breath in front of the mirror, running my hand through my hair and easing the knots out. As I splashed water on my face, I suddenly heard what sounded like a low sob coming from the room next to me. It was coming from Iwaizumi’s room. 

All thoughts of Oikawa flew from my head as I knocked quietly on the door to his room, and I heard abrupt shuffling from inside. 

The door opened, and Iwa stood there, arms crossed as he said. “Hey, sorry. I woke up earlier and I was just grabbing something.” He avoided my eyes, but I could see that they were red. 

“Iwa, are you ok?” 

Over the last week, I had noticed that something was wrong. During practice, he had been off of his usual game, his temper was shorter than usual, and he was unusually blunt, even more so than usual. I hadn’t questioned it, not wanting to intrude, but now it was obvious. Something was seriously wrong. 

“I’m fine, Y/n.” Iwaizumi turned away, moving back into his room, and I followed him. 

“Ok. You-you don’t have to tell me, but I want to help.”

He suddenly turned, eyes dark and glaring. “Why? Because I haven’t been playing as well? Because you’re worried as my manager?” 

I blinked in shock. “What? Absolutely not. I want to help as your friend, because I love you and I’m worried about you.” 

Iwa’s shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his forehead. “I-sorry. I didn’t mean to…” 

I stayed silent, waiting for him to speak. 

“M-my mom--” He broke off, and started again. “My parents aren’t at work right now. They’re actually at the hospital. My mom was diagnosed with brain cancer a year ago, and we’ve been…”

He stopped, his throat closing over. I covered my mouth with my hands, horror flooding me. “Iwaizumi, oh my god.” 

He slumped on the bed, continuing to speak. “She’s been getting progressively worse. She started losing feeling in her hands, getting seizures, and started forgetting things recently, which are all signs of it turning terminal. My dad had to take her to the ER two nights ago...I just didn’t want to be alone.” 

My lower lip trembled, and I moved closer to Iwa. “I’m so sorry Iwaizumi. I can’t even imagine dealing with this alone.” “I didn’t tell anyone besides Oikawa because I didn’t want to make it...real...I know that’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” I murmered, gently petting his hair. His shoulders shook as he let out a silent sob, and his arms wrapped around my waist. I hugged him tightly as he began to cry, his head resting on my stomach. I would stay with him for as long as he needed. 

Oikawa POV:

I woke up cold. 

I remembered in the middle of the night waking up to find Y/n-chan practically lying on top of me, and I had deliriously wrapped my arms around her, tugging her close. It had been bliss, but now I had no idea if it was just a dream made up by my smitten mind. She was nowhere in sight now. 

I dragged myself up with a groan, drowsiness weighing heavy on my limbs. Iwaizumi was gone too, and I shoved my hair back from my face, scrambling up and heading into the kitchen. It was empty too, and my eyebrows scrunched together. Where could they be? 

I heard something from down the hall, and I paused. It sounded like...crying? 

Worried now, I strode down the hallway, pausing in front of Iwa-chan’s door. It was cracked, and I slowly pushed it open, stomach dropping as I saw what was inside. 

Iwa sat on the edge of his bed, Y/n standing in between his legs, and his arms were wrapped around her waist, head resting on her stomach. She gently stroked his hair, her face twisted with sadness as she gazed down at him. As I watched, his shoulders shook and I heard sobs. 

I had seen Iwaizumi cry only once, and he had refused to talk to me about it after, threatening to kill me if I ever mentioned it to anyone. 

And now he was...he was crying to Y/n. I felt like I was walking in on something personal, something I wasn’t meant to see. I slowly stepped away, feeling slightly numb. It wasn’t my business, but my emotions were twisted together in my stomach, aching. I was jealous, confused, worried, and just frustrated. 

I needed to talk to Iwa. 

                        ✨✨✨✨

Oikawa POV:

“You did great everyone!” Y/n-chan said, smiling broadly at the circle of sweaty boys, passing around a few water bottles. “You’ve been improving so much, seriously. I think we can actually get to nationals and beat Shiritorizawa this time!”

I watched all my teammates light up at her praise, straightening their backs and looking a little less worn out. How did she always seem to lighten the mood?

I tried to ignore the way Kindaichi blushed when she smiled at him, or how Hanamaki looped an arm around her shoulders as the group began to clean up. It was pretty obvious that the entire team was half in love with her. 

Instead I drank deeply from my water bottle, focusing on cleaning up as quickly as possible, instead of the way she animatedly talked to Iwaizumi across the gym, hands waving wildly. 

I headed into the boys locker room, tossing my gym clothes aside as I took a quick shower, rinsing the sweat from my body. The rest of the team were chattering in their usual loud manner when I emerged, but a few of them gave me confused looks as I began packing up my stuff. Clearly, my bad mood was more obvious than I wanted. 

I purposefully took extra long, waiting for the rest of the team to head out for the night before finally hefting my backpack on my shoulder. Iwaizumi was the only one left behind, and he turned to me with an expectant look at the locker room doors slammed shut behind Kunimi, leaving us in silence. 

“What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all day.” Iwaizimi glared, and I clenched my jaw. 

“Do you like Y/n-san?” 

There was a long silence, and Iwaizumi’s eyes darkened. For a second I thought he was going to punch me, but instead he said, “Of course I like Y/n. She’s smart, funny, and kind.  I’ve never met anyone who wants us to succeed so genuinely as her. She has no ulterior motives; she just wants all of us to be happy.” 

He paused, watching my blank face. After a long moment, he continued. “I’m guessing that’s not what you wanted to hear, but let me spell something out for you. I love Y/n-chan as a friend only, got it? She is one of the best people I’ve met, and I trust her almost as much as you, but I view her like a sister.” 

I let out a slow, long breath. “Ok. Sorry for being...a dick about it.” Iwaizumi punched me on the shoulder, and I yelled in pain. “What the hell?!” 

“You’re such an asshole, Shittykawa. What would happen if I did like her like that? I know for a fact that a few guys on the team do, so what are you going to do? Beat them up? Threaten them? Force them to stay away from her?” 

I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging the roots. “No! I don’t even--”

Iwa slapped me on the back of the head so hard, I stumbled forward with a grunt. “I swear to god, if you were about to say you don’t like her in that way, I am going to headbutt you in the face.” 

“I--” I stopped. I had no idea how I felt. I had been forcing myself not to think about it, even as I died to be with her all the time. My focus was volleyball, only volleyball. If I made a move, I wouldn’t be able to give her all my attention like she deserved. “I don’t know what to do Iwa.” I slumped forward onto the bench, shoulders drooping. 

Iwaizumi slapped me on the back, but his eyes had softened a bit. “Don’t get all defeated, Crappykawa. Y/n-chan isn’t like the other girls you’ve dated; she loves volleyball just as much as you.” 

I looked up at him hopefully. “Do you think she likes me?”

My friend scrunched his nose in disgust. “I have no clue why she would. She’d probably be better off with Kindaichi, honestly.” 

I groaned, leaning back. “You’re so unhelpful, Iwa-chan!”

“I swear, if you start asking me for relationship advice…” “But you know Y/n-chan just as well as me! I need helpppp.” 

“Dude, if you’re good at anything, you’re good at pulling girls. Why do you need my help?” 

We argued the whole way back out to the gym, both of us going completely silent as we noticed Y/n still packing up the water bottles. She paused and waved when she saw us, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“What are you guys still doing here?” She asked. 

“Oh--”

“UHHH--” “Hahahah….”

“Nothing at all.” 

She gave us a weird look but shrugged. “Ok...Well I was thinking of getting some milk bread at the store. Wanna come?” 

“Would I ever pass up a chance for milk bread?” I grinned. 

                                                 ✨✨✨✨

Y/n POV:

It was Saturday, and my house was completely empty. Both my parents were at a work conference in Tokyo, so I had the place to myself. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were both busy today and Karasuno had a practice game against Nekoma, and I didn’t really feel like hanging out with anyone anyway. 

Instead, I set up my speaker on the dining room table, spreading out my drawing supplies in front of me. 

I had been getting increasingly better with practice and lessons, especially since I spent most of my free time when I wasn’t doing homework, playing volleyball, or hanging out with friends working on my art. 

I flipped to a blank page, hitting shuffle on one of my playlist and starting to sketch the outline of a face. I sang along to the lyrics, erasing and redrawing certain features that didn’t seem to work, flicking through pictures on my phone for reference. 

I worked on a bunch of different pictures throughout the day, stopping for food a few times and watching a couple episodes of  “Attack on Titan”. Most of my sketches got crumpled, tossed aside, or simply abandoned, but I didn’t get frustrated. The more practice I did, the better I got. 

I was almost done with my fourth drawing by the time it got dark, and I held it up at different angles to try and spot what was wrong with it. 

I set down my notebook as “Cardigan” by Taylor Swift came on, standing on my chair and using a pencil as a microphone. There was no one around to hear, so I screamed the lyrics as loud as I could, pretending I was on stage in front of a massive arena of people. 

Oikawa POV: 

I rubbed my hands together, grinning as I pictured Y/n-chan’s face when she saw the bag of mochi Iwaizumi and I had gotten her as a surprise. 

The last time our team had hung out all together after school, we had gone to get dessert at the local store. She had gotten mochi, eating so much that she ended up getting sick. Knowing she loved the treat so much made me want to get her more of it, which was how Iwa and I ended up stopping by the store after our study session this afternoon. 

Her house was mostly dark when we pulled up, the exception being the window in the front, displaying the kitchen. Y/n-chan stood on a chair, screaming silently into a pencil as she danced around. I watched, mouth open, as she jumped off and threw her arms wide, speaking to a nonexistent audience. 

“What is she doing?” Iwa had a rare smile on his face as he watched her, and I covered my mouth as I shook with silent laughter. 

“She’s so cute…” I murmured under my breath. 

Without waiting for Iwaizumi, I opened the passenger door and jumped out into the darkening street. I jogged up the lawn, stopping in front of the window, and waving my arms wildly. It took a second for her to notice me, but when she did, her eyes went as wide as saucers and she froze. I began to laugh as I watched her face grow red, blushing all the way up to her roots. 

Iwaizumi joined me on the lawn, holding the bag of mochi. Y/n seemed to snap out of her trance, disappearing into the kitchen only to reemerge at the front door. 

“What-what are you guys doing here?” Her voice was completely flustered. 

I had to stop myself from bursting out laughing as I said, “What song were you listening to?”

She pressed her lips together, face getting even more red, if that were possible. “Ugh, go away.” 

I reached out, squeezing her cheeks. “You’re so sweet, chibi-chan!” 

Iwaizumi held out the paper bag. “Oikawa thought you would want these so we got you some.” 

I glared at Iwa. He wasn’t supposed to mention that it was my idea!

Y/n took the bag, and the expression on her face as she looked inside made it all worth it. 

“Oh my god, you guys!” She popped one in her mouth, a smile lighting up her face. “You didn’t have to,” she mumbled around the dessert. 

“You’re such a good manager, we wanted to show you we appreciate you.” 

She smiled, throwing her arms around my neck. I buried my face in her hair, squeezing her around the waist tightly. 

After a moment I let her go, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that I would have wanted to stay there forever. 

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

[thelostandforgottenangel]

Hide and Seek

Okay so earlier the other day while talking to @blossom-skies​ I was telling her how when my internet went down *AGAIN* I was playing hide and seek with my little ninja princess – we played sarcastic Hide-and-seek for three hours straight and while talking about this she mentioned how cute it would be as a fanfic

With Leonardo and Donnie… Later we agreed Mikey would be great dad for this too but it seemed so unfair to leave Raph out because I see him as a great daddy to his baby

That was it I wrote this because my heart couldn’t stand not to see them with their little ones playing a game while they are trying to do something important

@bloody-dark-shells03​ @betelgeusessonajblog​ @lonelyheart-clubband​ @fyreball66​ @nikitaboeve​ @darksaphire2002​ @aurora-the-kunoichi​ @autumn-the-punk​ @midnightrebel669​ @queendice98​ @mistyroselove​ @angelicdavinci​ @raphtherebel​ @raphie-chan1​ @luvroffictionalcharacters​ @waterstar2016​ @bluesakurablossom​ @neattea-tmnt​ @midnight-chocolate-turtle​ @ravenousmonstrosity​ @ravn-87​ @ellieandtheguys​ @tmntswagger​ @numberonecosmicgirl​

 Leo

As the leader Leonardo has so many responsibilities already on his shoulders between being the head of his team, the older brother, eldest son, the one who had taken the torch and was now in charge of all his brothers training after his father decided it was time for him to take a step back on top of having a 4 year old and twins on the way his plate was full and overflowing

But somehow even with all of that he still was one of the best father’s anyone had ever seen putting his baby above almost everything much like he did his beauty

Their son had been planned much like almost everything in their lives Leo being a perfectionist he had planned the time to get her pregnant so the baby would be born in the summer, had read all the stuff he could to insure conception, the number of times he had her in the bedroom in one day she was sure to be carrying after that first night but he had committed to giving it all to her for one whole week what he hadn’t planned was the fact that his child would be so stubborn; they had no idea what they were having and then the baby not wanting to come on time, coming over a month late but when the baby finally decided he wanted out he broke his mommy’s water while the whole family was in the middle of a movie night marathon

Leo was at her side the whole six hours and was so proud hearing they had a son, letting tears escape when his little boy was placed in his arms. Shadow was the spitting image of his father leaf green skin and blue eyes only added to the pride he felt in the room welcoming their little one to the world

The twins on the other hand – yeah they were far from planned one crazy passionate night after a successful mission during mating season, a few celebratory drinks and Leo had took her right there in the living room when they were alone both passing out on the couch, never expecting two months later wake up after a long night to see a little stick with a plus sign on his side table with a tiny note but once he processed what he was looking at he was down the stairs and in the kitchen where everyone was eating grabbing her up from in front of the stove yelling the news as he kissed and spun his girl around

But that reaction was nothing compared to hearing they were expecting two new additions so much more loving with her this time around hoping for at least a little girl

He had been unaware his lovely goddess had left for a while to go out with April and her girlfriend’s for lunch, and self care afternoon, and some shopping for baby stuff since he hadn’t really let her go anywhere in months worried for her safety, having thought she was in their room with the baby napping he had gone to do his daily meditation while they rested knowing how drained she had been.

It wasn’t until Shadow stumbled out dragging his little foam sword over to his daddy that he realized it was just them. He had been in the middle of his two hour long session and had hoped he would get to finish but the tiny child playing in his lap was a distraction, the thwack of the foam on his chest plate had him chuckling before the little boy was pulling on the tails of his mask

Asking nicely he tried to get his son to go play for a bit in the room while he finished up but he didn’t move actually standing in front of Leo holding his face in those tiny hands asking repeatedly for Daddy to play a game with him giving the cute face the leader had yet to learn to refuse

Finally thinking it could go in his favor the leader agreed to play their favorite game closing his eyes counting as he tried to meditate listening as the little one scurried across the floor losing track of his steps as he stopped immediately peeking out to see the his little ninja was hiding behind the couch his butt in the open with the tiny tail wiggling in excitement sighing with a grin

“Couch-”

“NO DADDY!”

Repeatedly he counted and waited for the boy to find his hiding spot then called out the hiding place all without opening his eyes being ordered to count again afterwards going at the same game until a huffy little face was in front of his pouting telling him he couldn’t guess making the leader chuckle as he got a long drawn out gibberish lecture on he couldn’t guess

It was cute when his little man acted like him smiling with pride as he gave finally covering his eyes counting one last time before hopping up off his elevated seat chuckling when he saw his little warrior laid on the couch covered by his blankie scratching his head as he walked around just talking to himself

He looked everywhere stating several times he was just too good of a hider praising his child highly for being a better ninja then him before slumping down on the floor his shell to the couch so Shadow could sneak up on him gasping in shock when he felt the little boy climbing onto his shell yelling happily he had won

They continued to play like that until finally he asked his daddy to hide. Leo was a little too good at the hiding able to get high up above the baby’s eye of sight but it was fun to sneak around until he dropped down from the roof silently right behind him grabbing up his son laughing as he tosses him up over his head catching the giggling child never realizing his lady was watching him from the doorway “You found Daddy! Look at my little ninja making daddy look like an amateur”

If anyone asks he will tell them Shadow won every round like the proud daddy he is and not wanting the game to end they played until he had to go out for patrol when it was time for the baby’s bedtime

Donnie

Working all the time makes him a little less aware of his surroundings or can sometimes be a little negligent about his love by accident

Now that don’t mean that from the second he met the love of his life he wasn’t hers completely, that he did small things to remind the woman that even if he wasn’t paying attention sometimes he loves his girl more then anything.

That he had proposed after knowing her for three months because he knew she was the one

I mean it’s not like the second she told him she was carrying his baby he put everything on hold because his world was carrying HIS child and he gushed for days always kissing at the little belly already there, or the fact that he had made a machine to monitor what he found to be two very healthy embryos, going out of his way spoiling his queen with getting anything she could ever need and want, made her feel beautiful when at five months pregnant she was way bigger then expected and couldn’t get around too good, or the last month of his loves pregnancy that he didn’t really leave her side rubbing her belly and massaging her swollen feet… and lets not forget those first two months of the twin’s life he really didn’t work because he was too busy adoring the beautiful little angel’s he had somehow created with the light of his life

Donatello is a wonderful father and can be very dedicated to his family but he’s still the genius we all know and turning his brain off can be difficult when he has an idea, but after they were born Donnie could be found all the time working with his two little princesses in his lap or in the double bouncer he made to have them on his desk to give his girl a break to pamper herself while letting them help him

Now he had learned not to let them in the lab after they started crawling fearing they could get hurt he had put up a baby gate had found a play pen for when they did got to be in there but it was quick to see if they wanted daddy they could climb both easy with the other’s help just to be in his arms and with his wife expecting baby number three the twins could easily outrun her on a good day

So today when his Queen had gone out for groceries and they had finished cartoons they had gotten away from Uncle Raphie who had passed out on the couch found the cookies they had promised Uncle Mikey they wouldn’t tell anyone about eating the whole box before both had scaled the gate sneaking up on him while he had been fixing his computer, both climbing into his lap one pulling on his mask while the other had nuzzled up to him “Dada is working sweeties” he made the mistake of looking down seeing both starring at him with the bambi eyes pleading for him to play with them

He couldn’t say no but needed to get done before Leo needed him to do anything so he started counting still working on his computer, he went to ten then looked up his eyes immediately falling on the overturned basket with tiny giggles coming from right under reaching one leg over and tapping the top, again he went to ten but with each game he changed the language getting a pat on his leg telling him to count right before seeing two displeased faces

This went on for a while until he stopped counting focused on a few wires until his youngest climbed up his legs pulling his glasses off and running as fast as she could when he reached for her “Hey I need those you little troublemaker!” both giggled wildly when he blindly followed seeing one tiny blur run out of the door her sister having knocked the gate over

Without his glasses he was completely blind and had to count his steps to make it easily around calling out to them hearing giggles from two directions laughing as he almost tripped holding his hands out

This was something they could do but shockingly both were together throwing their voices in a way nobody had taught them making it harder on him until he saw a little blur shoot across the floor getting down feeling his way knowing what would come next and as expected the girl’s sprung jumping on him making him fall to the floor in defeat hearing the joyous giggles as they climbed over his shell “Oh no you got me! Dada is down!”

The cute chants that they had won were followed by tons of sticky kisses and his queen’s laughter at seeing him on the floor. His glasses were back on his face before his little princesses took off running as he counted again getting up and placing his glasses on the table preferring the game better when he couldn’t see anything

His work long forgotten for now he called out to the girls looking everywhere until he got tackled again playing until he collapsed on the massive beanbag holding the twins laughing

He was found later in the den watching their cartoons by his family fast asleep holding them against him all out cold snuggled together

 Mikey

As the baby of the family it was a shock when at eighteen he had told his family him and his girlfriend were expecting a baby and there were doubts at the beginning; Michelangelo was still a kid when they had found out and he wasn’t ready for a big responsibility like what would come with a baby but when he stepped up and asked her to marry him after they had found a abnormality with the infant his brother’s started to see why their father hadn’t been too worried, seeing the usually immature turtle being so serious took all of them by surprise.

They were married two moths later and a few months after that he had called them frantic because while they were wrestling on the couch her water had burst barely having time to get her to the needle room before the baby was crowning

She was three months too early he had to be prepared that she wouldn’t survive but as he stood by his wife’s side he never lost faith that the baby would pull through breaking down in tears when he heard that small cry as the little girl took her first breath wailing as she was cleaned up never stopping even as her mother held her but the moment that tiny baby was placed in his arms she stopped looking right up at him so calm so suddenly

She didn’t look abnormal; in fact she was perfect to him cooing as he cried kissing her tiny face

After a moment it sunk in just how perfect she was; her light green skin that was just a few shades lighter then his own was his new favorite color but around one eye she had a birthmark that was a healthy peach color in the shape of a heart making her just as unique as the heart on his plastron, as he unwrapped her he could see a little bit more peach in smaller heart shapes on her shoulder, her bright baby blues opened only minutes after birth and a smile that put his to shame when she looked up at her father so small the little girl practically fit in his hand but she was a fighter

Mikey seemed to grow up fast right there or as much as he could being the jokester he was when it came to her, while his babycakes recovered from the delivery he had done everything for his princess caring for her finding she was calmest in his arms forming a bond none of them could possibly understand

Over the last few years she excelled getting to all of her milestones before any child should but to her daddy she was his little miracle that brightened his days making him the proudest daddy in the universe

Today Mikey was in his Call of Duty game smack talking his friends before hearing his little princess calling him making him almost jump out of his shell looking over fast to find his little girl standing next to him huffing as he tried to get his heart to stop jumping out of his chest

Something he had still not gotten use to since the first day she had done it right after she started crawling was his baby was one of the best ninja’s he had ever met – she was so quiet that she could sneak up on her Uncle Leo and Grandpa still as energetic but when she wanted something she was able to switch on her stealth mode just to get it

When she really, really wanted something she went to daddy because she got her way with him

He looked over hearing her sweet voice calling to him softly she was giving him that cute big doe eyed baby face that melted him every time as her mother caught up to her carrying their nine month old daughter on her hip holding her belly out of breath both were hoping for a boy this time looking drained from trying to get her to get dressed well aware the sweet little girl was going to get her way with him when he turned off his mic pulling her into his lap nuzzling and kissing his princess until she giggled curling into him “It’s okay I’ll save you from mommy” he grinned when his wife rolled her eyes but gladly sat down resting her feet on his shell

A while later she took his headset off his head looking at it “Hey boys no nastiness my baby girl is on” seeing him speak into the foam piece she started babbling into the speaker getting several heartfelt aww’s from his buddies online before her daddy took out two of them fast both cheering together

His wonderful little distraction was helping him win both into the game together

He knew it was only a matter of time but she finally wasn’t sitting still

He would never say it but now he knew what his brother’s had been dealing with growing up with him although he couldn’t figure out why they had always been annoyed; when she climbed onto his shoulder wiggling herself into the small space between his neck and shell slumping over his dramatically growling his name in her deep voice that made them laugh telling him to play with her it was the cutest thing he had ever seen

Mikey wanting to finish this one round agreed quickly his eyes never leaving the T.V. hitting buttons as he sat her down shielding his vision with one as she took off counting loudly until she disappeared hearing the ruffling of her climbing into the laundry basket beside the couch struggling to throw the small rags over her until Leo walked in with an arm full of towels that had just finished in the dryer trying to help the woman who was close to passing out, the leader trying not to laugh looking at his niece when she reached for them

The tiny squeak as he dropped all of them on top of her had Mikey grinning seeing them moving as she curled into them finally going still calling her daddy to find her

Without missing a beat he glanced over seeing her little snout sticking out scooting closer before tapping her nose lightly “Hey is there room in there for me!?” the rate of speed from which she stood up looking shocked he had found her made the others burst into laughter, demanding him stop cheating and count again she took off fast climbing under Uncle Raphie’s chair hiding behind his legs.

It didn’t matter where she went the joyful giggles were a dead give away his favorite was her trying to hide so she could see him those baby blues always made him want to look at her

After the game ended he dropped the remote leaving the game as fast as possible leaping up over the couch grabbing her as he landed getting excited squeals from the kicking child. He tickled her kissing all over that little face cradling his baby close telling her how beautiful she was until she kicked at him making the turtle sit up pouting at her as she took one his hands at a time covering his eyes making him count

As he got to five he felt a small pressure on his shell as the little girl climbed up on him  but didn’t react waiting until he heard the small click as one of his brothers hooked her in with his boards sling getting up hearing her giggle as she held the top of his shell. He walked around looking every where seeing his brothers dying as he searched acting completely oblivious to where she was stunned he couldn’t find the child until she climbed up squealing in excitement for finally hiding from her daddy in a place he couldn’t find

Now once she had calmed down he bounced around yelling it was his turn quickly going to hide by jumping over the couch sticking his head under the pillow waiting for her to get him after she finished her version of counting

 Raph

The little pats of tiny feet walking into the weight room drew his attention away from the bar he was holding up having not been able to fall asleep feeling overheated but not wanting to wake up his mate for some fun he had tucked his love in and decided to work out until he was tired

Raphael had just started his third set he was surprised to see his little girl standing there with a sad look in the doorway; her princess pony sleep pants dragging around her tiny feet as she pulled at the shirt that was getting too small for her, that little lip set in a pout tears filling those stunning golden green eyes “Ay there kitten – what’s wrong baby ya ‘ave a nightmare?” seeing her nod he sat the bar back down on the hooks sitting up as she shuffled towards him sniffling, picking her up after hearing her telling him about the scary creature that had been chasing her “C’mere kitten” he kisses her head trying to calm her by rubbing her little shell the way she liked “Ain’t nobody gonna hurt ya ‘m the scariest thing in these tunnels ain’t no half ass loser gonna get ya while ‘m here, want daddy ta kick that monsters ass fer messin with m’ girl” he couldn’t help the smile that took over his face as she nodded fast curling up against him

He never thought for a second he would be right here in his life; sure he had dreamed of a better life but it was just that a dream

He had never thought he could fall for a beautiful woman who had become his best friend in a short time after meeting by accident, he had taken the risk showing her he wasn’t wearing a costume after a few too many drinks, for some reason she had liked him, he hadn’t thought she would love him for who he was green skin shell and all but all night she was at his side and as the night grew later her drunken self becoming more then friendly, one crazy night of uninterrupted passion turned into a few months later hearing her say that she was pregnant

Time stopped right there

Not knowing what to do or how to process the sudden news he had sat down too stunned to speak the fact that she had told him it was obvious she wanted to keep the baby and he didn’t even question it Raphael had took her hand pulling the sobbing woman against his chest holding her tight whispering a promise that they would face it together and from then life had been perfect and took off fast

They were a couple right off the bat driving one another crazy, ridiculous fights that always ended ion them laughing and finding they were a match made in hell, he loved laying on her chest talking to the baby so affectionate when nobody was looking being the teddy bear she teased him for.

He was a committed father before he heard that first heart beat, before he had even seen the sonogram he was wrapped around his baby’s finger. As she reached her final month the massive turtle surprised her one night by pulling the woman into his room covering her eyes until he was ready for her to see. Where all his weights and belongings had once sat he had moved almost everything out placing it in the tiny area she had been given her stuff was in there now along with a nursery he had set up for his little angel on one side having built a crib and gotten her a comfortable chair and made both of them a blanket

Their daughters birth had been a shock a month before her due date that his wife still hadn’t let him live down since it had been his fault, he didn’t think so but hey he couldn’t have been the only man to break their girl’s water during a slightly rough love making session- Maybe…

But since the night that little girl was laid in his arms he was glad he had taken the chance, letting somebody in because she made him believe in miracles, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen next to his girl a mix of both of them his life had been flipped upside down by that sweet face and he hope it never changed. In a few weeks his woman was going to deliver another little girl even though his brother said he couldn’t tell the gender they knew it had to be a girl, or that at some point in his life he deserved the mini him that had started it all that was curling up in his lap clinging to her turtle baby doll

“Tell ya what – how bout ya tell Daddy what will make ya feel better kitten?”

He gave her time to collect herself much like him she wasn’t good in voicing her emotions but hearing her small whisper snapped him out of his thoughts looking at her as she asked if they could play a game pleading with her daddy when he told her she really needed to go to bed

He wanted to finish his work out but seeing those big eyes shinning up at him he gave instantly never really able to tell his baby ‘No’ sitting her down covering his eyes starting to count as he did some curls hearing her giggle as she went and hid under the meditation pillows her feet just visible chuckling as she called him to find her, groaning as he tossed his water bottle making her jump looking so betrayed he hadn’t let her win trying to find a better spot in his weight room but when told to count he started just saying random numbers in a never ending sequence after so long she walked over pouting looking so agitated with him

That look told him he was three seconds from getting kicked in his shin making him straighten up before she was running as he jumped up starting towards the kitchen making her dive out of sight sneaking around the living room while he grabbed one of his protein shakes looking around not seeing her as he walked quietly through the area of their home even for his massive size he was so silent he managed to sneak up behind her when he saw her little tail wiggling as she crouched on all fours behind the couch sitting down smirking as she peaked out looking for him before sitting back looking so confused

He got low looking out over her head when she glanced around again trying not to laugh “Man I don’t know where he went but ya think he’ll find us ‘ere”

The screech she made had him on the floor rolling laughing loudly knowing they might have woken somebody as she jumped on him yelling he cheated before he had her in his arms amused as she tried to hit him but it dissipated quickly as she kissed his cheek covering her eyes trying to count knowing it was his turn to hide

Without thinking of it he quickly pulled into his shell watching his little warrior as she looked up to just see the huge shell hearing her laugh as she crawled forward peeking in looking for him her tiny hand patting his head making him come out never knowing they were being watched as his brother’s came in from patrol sneaking to their rooms without interrupting the game “Oh yer too good kitten… damn ya are so good at this baby I can’t hide from ya- Can daddy try again?”

The game went on until the last time he had walked around not seeing her at all until the turtle found her grinning as his heart melted completely finding her curled up in his recliner with one of the blankets he had knitted snuggled with her doll fast asleep; very carefully he lifted her up patting her shell when she stretched cutely sitting down as she nuzzled into his chest sleeping so soundly, he put his legs up knowing he wasn’t putting her in her bed kissing her little forehead as she snoozed on him

Raph watched over his girl nuzzling her as she whimpered making sure the nightmares didn’t return passing out at some point while brushing his fingers through her little curls being found the next morning by his wife and brothers still lounged back with his baby protectively held close curled up on his chest humming as the woman kissed them after draping a blanket over both to let them sleep a bit longer

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Unflusterable

Warnings: Food mention, some swearing, Deceit and Remus are mentioned but super briefly, gay, a lot  of gay, like this fic is just gay Roman waiting to be really really soft with Virgil Pairing: Prinxiety (duh)

    Roman doesn’t get flustered.

    He’s a prince, after all! The romantic side of Thomas, dashing and bold and witty! He was the one who flustered all who even looked at him!

    So Roman was definitely, utterly, completely, not even a tiny bit flustered by the mere existence of Virgil.

That would be foolish! To fluster a prince of love such as himself, there would have to be dramatics! Proclamations of love! Flowing poetry and sugary nicknames!

Virgil didn’t do things like that. Virgil didn’t do anything romance related, really. He seemed happy to just be a brooding stormcloud of isolation, and that was fine by Roman.

Because Virgil wasn’t flustering him.

During movie night, when Virgil had accidentally fallen asleep leaning against Roman, his head falling on the Prince’s shoulder, and Logan commented Roman looked redder than a solanum lycopersicum? 

Roman was just a little warm- that’s all! After all, Virgil was leaning on him, and he was very warm, with all the heat caught in his hoodie, and he was right on top of Roman, face smooth and relaxed, breathing calm and gentle, looking so at peace-

Roman had just been making some observations. And overheating. Not doing something silly like crushing hard. Not him!

And that time when Roman had headed into the kitchen, only to find Virgil and Patton baking, and ended up remaining in the doorway until Patton asked him if he needed something?

Well, he had been creating all day! So many ideas and plans tire out a Prince! So he was paused in the doorway because he was tired. Not because he was in a dazed stupor, watching Virgil laugh and genuinely smile through Patton’s puns, and not because he noticed how Virgil had gotten some flour in his hair, dusting it white, and there was cookie dough on his cheeks, and how he still looked utterly drop-dead gorgeous anyways.

People looked at Roman and thought embarrassingly sweet thoughts like that. Not the other way around.

Or that time when he had gone to fetch the Dark sides to plan the next video, only to find them and Virgil engaged in a vicious water gun war and found himself unable to say a word until his half-brained brother shot him with a gooey substance that was decidedly not water?

He was simply surprised such activities went on in the dark and dreary corner of Thomas’s mind! It wasn’t like he had been caught off-guard seeing Virgil in action, eyes glinting even in the low light as he took a perfect shot at Deceit, looking so focused and engaged and confident, like a different person, yet just as breathtaking as always.

Because Roman. Did. NOT. Get flustered.

And as long as Roman could just remember this, he could stop doing silly things like constantly getting distracted. An occurrence that had nothing to do with whether or not a certain anxious side was in the room.

Armed with this knowledge, he left his room (where he had most certainly not been spending a few hours reminding himself he was unflusterable) and headed for the Commons.

And was almost immediately forced to test his so-called unflusterablitiy.

Because the Commons were empty aside from Virgil, who was doing nothing other than sitting on the back of the couch, leaning on it and peering tiredly at his phone screen. It was the most mundane, boring sight Roman could have imagined.

And yet he was once more frozen in place, cheeks feeling warm, focusing way too much on the way Virgil’s hair was messed up like he had just woken up, yet somehow looking adorable on him when it would just look hideous on anyone else. 

How his hoodie was only half-zipped up, showcasing the top of a Nightmare Before Christmas t-shirt, so incredibly casual yet incredibly lovable at the same time.

How, when he yawned, he stretched his back out like a cat might, his mouth a cute little ‘o’ before he slumped back into the couch, blinking tiredly at his screen like a perfect mess. 

How Roman desperately wanted to pull a blanket over him and gently push him down onto the actual couch, and tuck the blanket around him while Virgil weakly fought and slowly closed his eyes despite his protests, his hand snaking out to grab Roman’s wrist when he tried to leave and forcing him to come down and nap with him-

Fuck.

Before Roman properly had the time to contemplate how screwed he was, Virgil was glancing up from his phone, having noticed him. He smirked, and Roman wondered how it was possible for Virgil to have the same face as him yet be insanely prettier.

“Like wh-”

Before Virgil could even get close to finishing his thought, Roman had darted out of the room, racing to his room even faster than his heart rate. He slammed the door to his room the minute he was inside, throwing himself on his bed and burying his burning face in the cool silk sheets.

Romance did not get flustered.

Roman, however, very clearly did.

A few minutes later, he heard a couple of heavy, loud knocks on his door. He glanced at it, trying to decide if he really wanted to entertain a visitor when he was pretty sure he was still blushing.

“Ro? You in there?”

Virgil.

On one hand, Roman knew he should absolutely not open that door. The chance of him being stunned into silence within a second was guaranteed, and he had just started to fight the blush out of his cheeks.

On the other hand, it was Virgil. Roman was opening that door before he had even finished going through the pros and cons of the action.

The pro that was ‘seeing Virgil’ and the con of ‘will become severely flustered’ hit at the same time, Roman fighting the urge to grab Virgil’s hands- which were in the middle of worriedly yet familiarly worrying the edges of his sleeves- and simply hold them, maybe gently kiss the knuckles, as soon as he opened the door.

Through sheer will power alone, Roman managed to clear his throat and ask (impressively without stuttering), “Can I help you, That Gloomy Gentleman?”

Virgil’s mouth quirked into a quick smile at the nickname before quickly transforming into a frown. The effort Roman exerted to not draw his sword and stab himself for possibly causing that frown was Herculean.

“I was just wondering if, uh, if I had done anything?” He asked, haltingly, flinching when Roman stared at him in bewilderment. “You’ve been acting really weird around me recently, and you just sorta bolted from the room when I tried to speak to you, so I wanted to know if I had accidentally offended you, or hurt your feelings, or-”

“Of course you haven’t!” Roman interrupted, possibly a touch too passionately if Virgil’s shocked expression was anything to go by. He coughed, trying to reclaim the nonexistent dignity he was clinging too. “I mean, no, Virgil, I’m not upset with you. I’m sorry you perceived my actions as such.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Logan, you finally taking Deceit up on those costume lessons?”

“It’s me, Virgil. Roman, not Logan.” Roman said sincerely before attempting to reclaim his normal grandeur with, “I’m insulted you could ever even think that nerd could play a part as extravagant as mine!”

Virgil clearly didn’t buy it. “Uh huh. Well, if you’re really Roman, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“I did just mention the whole ‘freezes every time I’m in the room and just fucking ran when I tried to talk to you’ thing, right? If the problem isn’t me then it’s gotta be you.”

Roman laughed, trying to sound princely and ending up sounding nervous. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m the same-”

“I’mma stop you right there.” Virgil cut in, physically pressing a finger to Roman’s lips as he did. The touch was incredibly brief, but it had still fried Roman’s every neuron beyond thinking. “Something is clearly up. You might as well tell me now before I fetch Deceit.”

Normally, Roman could come up with a good dozen witty responses; at the least, a very indigent ‘you wouldn’t dare.’ 

At the moment, however, Roman’s mind was only capable of stringing together the words, “Virgil” and “pretty,” which was quite impressive all things considered.

What wasn’t impressive was the fact that these internal thoughts had, apparently, become external.

Virgil blinked rapidly at him, caught off guard. He had just opened his mouth to say something when Roman slammed the door on him.

He regretted the action immediately, but it was that or actually facing the truth and his stunningly attractive, impossible-to-look-away-from crush. Gay panic had made its choice.

“You know we can just rise into each other’s rooms, right?”

So, gay panic had just directly lead to him shrieking like a five-year-old and jumping ten feet in the air in front of his crush. Maybe dying from embarrassment was a better life choice.

Virgil sighed from behind him. “Just because you refuse to face me doesn’t mean we’re not going to talk about the fact you just stuttered out, ‘Virgil pretty,’ before slamming your door in my face.”

Roman ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, but I have half a chance not stumbling over every single word I say like this.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Roman sighed. Better to just tell him. Maybe then no one would question him when he started walking around blindfolded, considering as long as Virgil existed that was going to be the only way he could keep his thoughts about him.

“Virgil, I- every time I see your face, I see stars in your eyes and sunlight in your smile. Every time you speak, silver bells ring and angels sing. Every time you so much as blink you steal my own breath. You���re… you’re so many types of beauty, and I’m bowled over by all of them.”

“Y’know, you could have just said something like, ‘every time I see you I cannot deal.’”

Roman huffed. “You are ruining my dramatic profession of love.”

“More like cheesy.” Virgil replied, before continuing, tone lightly teasing, “And what I’m getting from that ‘dramatic’ cheesefest is that I have flustered Romance, which according to you is impossible.”

“It is.” Roman said, a small smile on his face. “Turns out flustering Roman is a lot more plausible, however.”

Still teasing, Virgil asked, “Roman, do you have a crush on me?”

“Crush feels like an understatement at this point.”

“And, oh Blushy Prince of Romance, what do you think would happen if you knew a certain somebody had a crush right back at you?”

Roman swallowed past the suddenly huge lump of Gay in his throat. “I think I’d die.”

Virgil chuckled, sounding closer than he should have been until Roman felt Virgil’s arms settle lazily around his neck, the direct source of his overwhelming Gay panic pressed against his back and tucking his head into the crook of Roman’s neck.

“Then perish.” Virgil said, mouth much, much too close to Roman’s ear, breath warm, and he leaned forward a bit, moving his head just slightly to plant a kiss on Roman’s cheek and- yep, there it was, Roman’s last brain cell, floating away in the breeze.

Powered entirely by Gay panic, Roman twisted his head when Virgil pulled away, just managing to catch the other’s lips. The kiss was horribly awkward, both of them craning their necks for it to work, but Roman was kissing Virgil- his head could fall off in the next moment for all he cared.

They broke apart after a minute, Virgil’s smile quickly transforming into a smirk as he saw how dazed Roman looked. “You really are a gay mess, aren’t you?”

In a different world, where Roman currently had the skill to string together words, he would have responded, “Well, I’m a mess, and I’m very gay, so I’d say yes,” or something that sounded like he still had his wits with him.

Roman chose to just count his lucky stars he only babbled senselessly for a few seconds before just nodding. Virgil laughed.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

And here Roman was thinking it wasn’t possible for his cheeks to get any redder.

Instead of defending himself, he just reached up to hold Virgil’s arms from where they were still dangling around his neck, tugging them tighter around him, treasuring the warmth and the light smell of lavender that clung to Virgil.

Roman let out an over-the-top dreamy sigh before letting his head fall backwards so he could see Virgil’s face. So he was probably going to spend the rest of his life stumbling over his every other statement while constantly looking like he had a terrible sunburn.

Seemed a fair price to pay for such a perfect view.

[signaturefox]

The Love of Fire and Ice

“Longorius, son of the Romulan King Feridus and Queen Voltail, is to be married at dawn.” the Bishop says to the crowd on onlookers of the Kingdom of Tremule. The onlookers are glad to have a royal wedding, all except Longorius. Longorius doesn’t want to marry his suitor. His suitor is Princess Alenia, Princess of the Kindom of Greytrower, a tribe of people who worship the god of Blacksmithing, Larcix. Longorius had been in a long term friendly relationship with a knight in the Romulun Army, Serrino. Longorius upon hearing the news locked himself in the East Tower of the Romulan Castle. No one could open the door to the Prince’s room. The first to came was King Feridus, he became enraged at Longorius for locking his door and refusing to answer to the king. Feridus decended the grand stairs to the royal procession to find his wife Votail. Votail goes to the door to mediate the situation between her husband and Longorius and attempt to get him outside the door. Queen Voltail’s attempts were unsuccessful. The third person to come upstairs was Princess Alenia. The Princess was very upset Longorius’s attempt to ruin her wedding day. Queen Voltail is able to turn away Princess Alenia as to stop her from having a brain aneurysm in a sapphire gown and veil. While the Princess was throwing a royal tantrum King Feridus left and returned with a royal present as a barter for his compliance.

This present was the royal separator, a hand held knife that passes from king to king. Longorius refuses to speak at this point, further enraging the already barely together king. Unbeknownst to the king and queen, Longorius was hiding in the room he locked himself in, but wasn’t alone. Serrino, had come by in the middle of the night to protect his friend.

“Serrino, I swear if I go out there I might as well just die, I don’t want to marry that orangutan in a dress.” Longorius cries

“I understand Longo, but I have a plan to help you out, what if I go out there and marry her.” Serrino says surely

“Yeah like that’d work, they want me to marry her to have good relations with the Greytowers, a kingdom I’d never been to.” Longorius says dejected, “They could have picked the Dremure Kingdom at least they worship Rami, the god of traveling.”

“I don’t see a way out of this my liege”, the knight Serrino gives up

“I have a plan” Longorius rises from his slump

Serrino perks up, “what is it?”

“You’ll see.” Longorius says, grabbing the face of his friend and staring into the green eyes of his companion.

Serrino stays in the room to finish preparing Longorius ready for his wedding day.

Longorius and Serrino exit the locked room to the king and queen’s happiness. Princess Alenia is alerted that the wedding shall continue as planned

The royal wedding procession begins as the King and Queen are introduced, then Longorius alongside his favorite knights, with his favorite knight Serrino right by his side. The wedding continues as planned. Longorius and Alenia were legally married as per rules of the Romulans and the Greytowers. King Feridus, keeping to his marriage gift, handed over the royal separator, making Longorius the king of the Romulan kingdom and Alenia the Queen. With this separator Longorius took the throne. Longorius, with the wedding parties still in the room, asked Serrino to come to the thrown, where they locked into a kiss. This stuns the wedding party and the queen. However, Longorius did this for a reason. The law of the Romulan Kingdom states, as he read aloud “In the case of adultery, king or peasant, is grounds for a separation and dissolve of said marriage.” Longorius pushes for dissolvement. Alenia obliged, outraged at being made a fool of she ran off, outside the holy church she was a queen of for 1 minute. Longorius, as the new king, legalized all marriages in the Romulan kingdom. This comes at a shock of now ex king Feridus, which causes him to faint. Serrino is asked to come to the forefront. Longorius pulls out a sapphire ring, originally meant for Alenia. Serrino takes Longorius hand in marriage. The audience applauds the kings of the Romulan kingdom.

The night after the marriage a new maid visits the couple in the new master suite. The maid brought two amulets. One of fire and one of ice. Longorius obtained the amulet of ice and Serrino the amulet of fire. The maid says, “the amulets are holy, they represent two elements that are opposites but go well together in many ways. Fire while burns bright, with ice creates a new element, water. Water is fluid, just like love, fluid that is essential for human life. Love, regardless of who it is, is holy.” The maid disappears into the hallway and changes her form, the goddess Dione, goddess of love and marriage. Dione felt as though Longorius and Serrino represented love in its truest form, two adult humans who love each other, regardless of what the consensus is.

[grim-faux]

21 - Hall of Rorschachs

The lift gave a harsh clatter against the steel rails, as the cables jerked the empty container back to the ground floor.  I twisted around and lunged at the underside in some pitiful attempt to latch on and ride up, or drag it back down if I must.  Even if there was doubt I had the strength to hold on, I was desperate.  But it was not to be, I was far from grasping the cart as it faded into the dark gullet of the chute.  The clatter of the carriage grew distant as I stood in the shadows gazing up, hand outstretched.  Begging.  My thoughts pleading.  No one was listening.  I returned my focus to the short corridor with the lamps that buzzed and dim whenever a surge slid through.  I was so set on getting out.  Ready to say my goodbyes.  I let my fucking guard down.  How typical.  How fucking typical.

I tried the call button beside the chutes entrance, but it required a magnet key.  I recalled the Asylum, and the numerous trials I endured to locate those damn cards.  I didn’t believe I would stumble upon one down here, since it was ‘Father’ Martin that had planted them for me.  God, even in death he’s still giving me shitty fetch quests.

New Objective:  Find another way out. I didn’t know what awaited down here, lurking.  Didn’t feel prepared to continue.  It couldn’t be worse than the twins or Trager, could it? I crossed to the set of doors and pushed one open, and was nearly blinded by the sterile light blazing over the pristine walls and floor.  Bright glaring lights, that reminded me of His cell.  I blinked the dryness away as I stepped into the hall, I could detect an immediate change in pressure.  Aside from the air having a dry and clinical property, I couldn’t explain the sensation, but I didn’t like it.  Bravo for intuition. The floor was polished and as bright and white as the cylindrical walls curved around the hall.  I wasn’t a geologist so my knowledge was limited, but if I had to guess I would say it was all chiseled from natural stone, from the mountain itself ”…something that had been waiting for them in the mountain.”  What the hell was this place? Now that I thought back on it, a colleague of mine had tried to relate a scientific matter to me concerning specific ores, and how it attributed to supernatural occurrences.  Truth of the matter I had been a piss poor student, and constantly teased her as she tried to educate me.  But I had listened enough. The paranormal was a genre she was interested in, and she was thrilled to tell me about a place she visited in Colorado (not Mount Massive).  Some ritzy Hotel, the Overlook I think was the name, its location built upon a cash of natural limestone.  Scientific observations were utilized to support theories, that paranormal occurrences could be attributed to high concentrations of limestone in the mountain.  Something in the mineral conducted electricity. It sounded a little too fantastic to me, but here and now, I was beginning to wonder if Murkoff had premeditated these findings.  Someone believed them.  In that case, the Asylum wasn’t target exclusively for the history or the seclusion.  It was elected due to the qualities of the region itself. Or maybe I was just tired.  I looked up at the symbol printed above the next set of doors.  I’d seen it before.  No, not the lockers in prison block.  The video the Priest had forced me to watch.  That symbol was on the floor when the MHS tacticals were throttled like chickens.  The atomic, molecular design?  Or could there be further religious affiliation? I pushed the doors open and stepped into a fresh scene of horror.  I knew this room, and my anxiety increased tenfold.  Blood streaked the floor, splattered on the white stone walls.  Bullet marks decorated steel and glass in random areas, the pieces of a gun had been scattered over the floor with black splatters.  Muscles and entrails glistened under the light as I moved from the doors.  Red had dried to the large crescent desk fixed at the rooms center, two large screens sat behind it, bright and cheery in contrast to the stew soaking into the stone.  One read Murkoff Corporation, the other sported the trinity Molecular design along with WALRIDER PROJECT in bold.  And the symbol on the floor streaked with blood.  That symbol was everywhere. With a sigh, I took out my camera and filmed everything.  It was giving me low battery warnings, but I had at least a half hour left if I didn’t run out of power for the night vision.  Unfortunately, there seemed to be plenty of light in this place. “Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.   Whoever finds my corpse – trust no one and tell everyone.  I am not crazy.  I know, I know, only crazy people say that.  But I am as sane as this world allows, with a camera full of evidence.  Don’t call it a gospel.  Call it a mockery of reason, let the world know it is Murkoff’s fault.  Bury these bastards with my mutilated dead body.” It took a few minutes for me to write.  My hands seemed steady at first, but when I put pen to paper, well….  Aside from the difficulty of holding my pen against my middle finger, it was almost unbearable to apply pressure to my index finger.  I dated the note and leaned back to view murder and rot surrounding me while I wrote.  I needed to get my priorities straight. A few plants dotted the room, but I knew they were fake without a glance.  Polished gray pillars encircled the lobby, they didn’t resemble any specific mineral.  Just general grade cement to support the dark blue ceiling.  The far side was comprised of a glassed portion of the wall, with thick pipes behind.  Water, gas, electricity, I didn’t care.  Beside the wall sat a short desk, out of place among the red streaks.  Two chairs had been set facing one another, and two mugs of coffee still sat on the brown wood. I averted my gaze to the opposite wall, where a purge chamber stood open to the room, black blood washed down its sides and soaking the floor.  The images came back clearly as I had seen them, despite the drugs swimming through my brain at the time.  I could envision the panicked militants shrieking as their bodies were ripped through the tiny crevices in the doors, and holes of the glassed in wall.  One man’s legs still lay a few feet from the pile of meat, a string of organs dried to the stone.   I stumbled back into the large desk and sat down on its surface.  My hand touched a folder beside me, and I looked down to flip through the pages.  It was nothing remarkable, nothing relevant I decided. From the personal records of Dr. Wernicke.  The Modern Prometheus Document: The Pride of Wisdom Schrodinger Wolfram “FRANKENSTEIN, or The Modern Prometheus” by Mary Shelley, published anonymously in 1818. Chapter 23, excerpt –  “Man,” I cried, “how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom! Cease; you know not what it is you say."  I broke from the house angry and disturbed, and retired to meditate on some other mode of action. Well, it appeared they created man’s monster.  And it hath a wraith unlike no other being in our world.  I closed the folder and pinched the bridge of my nose.  It was apparent I had dug in too deep, I didn’t know if I could claw out of the grave I had lain in.  I suppose I had one choice.  Keep digging.  I didn’t know exactly where I was, but I had a strong estimate.  I was in the Basement of the Asylum. I looked to the security operative slumped in his chair, near where I perched.  Briefly, I wondered what would become of the remains of all these people?  Even if Murkoff wasn’t the shady bastards that they were, it was impossible to gather up the pieces to return them to their families.  The investigation? I slid off the desk and approached the blood splattered door of the cold purge chamber.  My breath hitched as I tried to inhale gently, but the pain in my rib couldn’t be negotiated with.  I didn’t know if I could do this all over.  I might need to find someplace to rest and if fate allowed, I would awaken before I died. The door panel sparkled embers from the torn wires, probably motion sensors detecting my approach.  The doors held silent, an eerie howl raised from the dark depths.  I raised the NV and reassured myself there was nothing, I was alone except for the dead.  The hair bristled along my brow.  God, why did I put that image in my head?   I shuffled forward into the cradle of the dark.  Above wires and cables ran the length of the tunnel, the walls were as they were in the entrance, chiseled and polished stone with occasional gaps that had been glassed off where additional paneling and vital equipment or systems were nestled.  The camera flashed a familiar image, I tensed as static buzzed through and waited until it cleared.  Nothing but shredded bodies, nothing but the secrets these people died with.  I listened to the silence.  For so long I was accustomed to the distant shrieks and mutter of people, behind doors I hoped to never open.  Now, I was buried deep in solid rock, with only the pulse in my bones to alleviate the sterile peace. Murkoff personnel were everywhere, lined against the walls, bodies torn inside out by a force I could never have a want to comprehend.  I doubt any two were slain in the same fashion, or the method of death so violent it was impossible to replicate.  As always, never footprints.  But what ghost had feet? Guts and lungs splattered up walls, I was unsettled by how fresh it appeared to be, but attributed it to the NV.  Thin lines marked the floor, I knew these prints that made long red through copious puddles.  I’d seen the same when I was pushed off an elevator by a lunatic.  They turned when the tunnel curved, ahead light swept into the shadows.  I clicked off the nightvision but hesitated to emerge.  I refused to trust the helpful presence of light, but for now it was welcomed while my camera demanded a fresh battery.  I dropped the old one and set the new one in.  The distant clatter that echoed was a solitary thing throughout the corridor. The wall along my right had the natural mineral trimmed away into flat walls, reinforced with cement, and steel in some areas.  The metal portions were fitted with slates, or shields, that same symbol from the lobby was printed besides the shields.  I stared down, the marks.  Those lines went through these panels, curving around the edge.  I debated the meaning as I took a deep breath and squinted my eyes. They looked like portals or panels that could be moved.  There was a set of powerful looking hydraulic hinges, but otherwise no handles or switches that could gain access.  Probably wouldn’t do me any good anyway.  I fit my fingers along the edge testing for a draft, but judged they were airtight.  Pressure sealed.  This facility was dedicated to science and clinical procedures, despite the butcher of the upper floors.  If there was a way out, hopefully I didn’t need to access it within there.  I could come back, once the rest of the Block was explored. As I resumed on my way, something came to my thoughts, it was a bit random.  In the report it was stated Billy had spoken to the Dr. Wernicke in a white room.  I spun around checking the walls and surrounding surfaces.  This place was pretty white.  But…that wasn’t possible. I looked up and watched a camera connected to the cables in the ceiling revolved slowly, catching all the action as it happened.  I glanced back at the doorway before I continued down the hall. A Block.  The large plate on the wall identified this as A Block, or the whole hall was?  There wasn’t much to it.  I was reminded of the Cell Block’s of the Asylum above – C Block, D Block.  Clearly this was as a part of the Asylum as the condemned sections of the Female Ward.  This didn’t surprise me.  But it could have been coincidence as well.  I’d go with that, since I was done with the conspiracy theories.   The next set of doors had pop marks across the glass and metal, bent out in small boils where bullets had lodged.  The bullets were fully visible in the glass, surrounded by the star shaped impressions that commemorate the battle.  I felt the shadows around me as I huddled in the garden, the branches cracking as something swept through.  That inhuman shrill.  In my ear screaming as the thunder laughs, and my vision fills with white.  Then I’m curled up in the room, the dry wood and cold plaster on either shoulder as I tremble and listen to the ringing in my ears.  The sensation that crawls through me, I can’t explain it.  I’ve lost something, yet, nothing is amiss.  I don’t feel right. I barely glimpsed the panel at my left.  Morphogenic Engine.  I stopped with my hand on the door and bent my head around studying the hall I had moved through.  You know what?  Fuck that.  I can’t conceive what it would look like, what exactly it’s supposed to do.  I don’t care.  I’ll come back!  I promise.  I’ll come back if I have too. That was probably a hollow promise, but my obligations had faded since I stepped off that damn elevator.  I had no luck with elevators. A series of large canisters greeted me on the other side of the doors, pressed to the wall on my left and out of the way.  The label read ‘saline’ substitute.  That sounded kind of weird, wasn’t saline a substitute?  I took in details of the hall, my camera held in no specific position as I walked.  The ceiling retained its natural rock, but the walls on either side resembled the interior of medical labs.  This all looked like existing cave before Murkoff came along and filled it with their nightmare science.  The idea brought me back to the theory of the mountains as the target rather the Asylum, and I wondered about the files I had found dating back before Mount Massive was shut down.  If not for the limestone, then the isolated region was more than worth the resources to insure the quality of their uninterrupted studies. I touched the wall on my left as I neared the doorframe.  The material was metal and possibly reinforced.  I don’t think it was meant for militaristic operations, though they clearly took precautions for their work.  For an invasion or ‘terrorist’ attack, a lot of good it did them. A thin red streak slipped between the open doors I peered through, blood was spread from ceiling to floor.  I blinked, staring.  The air was thick with copper and rot.  I was so tired of that smell, but I just couldn’t get away from it.  It was soaked into my clothing as it was soaking into the walls around me.  I stepped inside, careful of the pieces beside the counter that had once been one or two people.  Maybe three.  All of them spattered over the floor, organs hung in ribbons on counters, pieces of bone scattered over metal cabinets.   I scanned the labels visible through the glassed in shelves.  Most were filled with vials of fluids, many of which sported long, four syllable words with –ine or –phen on the end.  Files were scattered over the sinks and floors, reminders for injections and progress with patients identified by numbers.  I stood beside the rolling chairs and scanned over the room, debating if it was possible that materials remained that I could patch my hands with.  Something actually medical, rather the spare shirt that would be waiting for me in the jeep.   Pipes twisted around the edge of the ceiling.  I followed the sections around the room trying to recall something about pipes.  They were pumping the recycled air throughout the facility, they had to.  Couldn’t risk foreign contamination.  It sounded ridiculous in my head, but I preferred it that way. Revisiting the hall, I turned left.  The black stains of yet more Researchers coated the gray metal of Nitroglycerin tanks, scattered beside the wall.  He was probably in the midst of transporting them when it all happened.  A few tanks managed to stay on the wrecked cart against the wall.  I poked into the next room, the remains of staff had all but painted the walls.  I stumbled as I leaned on the door, just… everywhere I looked, the broken pieces of tissue and body parts was all over.  I have to emphasize the ALL OVER aspect.  I thought the Asylum itself was gruesome, but this was something else entirely. I looked from the doors of the room, shot up by bullets, to the large tank of unmarked gas or fluid.  At the other corner was a medical waste bin piled high with black bags, stuffed with unknown rubbish.  It was a clear violation of sanitation, but for whatever reason Murkoff began to lack in strict policies during its final days.  I was curious to what could be crammed in those bags but they sagged and were covered in unknown gunk, and the smell of residual chemicals did not encourage me.  It was subtle evidence of distress, though at the time this room from a glance gave the delusion of order and regiment.     I stared up as I leaned on the autopsy table bolted to the floors center.  Above, an arm hung from one of the pipes that lapped around the ceiling, dried muscle had peeled back to reveal white bone.  Threads of intestines stuck to files stuffed into the shelves, the jaw of someone was lodged into the space between a drawer and the countertops edge.  It looked like the fleshy tissue of the throat had remained attached. I shut my eyes and rested my weight to my free arm, when I opened my eyes, I noted the pages that had scattered from a folder stained with blood.  Under the harsh lamps the fluids looked fresh, almost new.  The battery in the camera itself was holding strong, I used it to snap the pictures as I skimmed through.  PROJECT WALRIDER  POSTMORTEM PRIMATORY REPORT MM1300921  (form note: all material herein to be transcribed and revised to fit legally binding requirements of Murkoff Corp. records. See form 4083)  AUTHOR: Jennifer Roland  NOTES: My fourteenth autopsy of a Walrider patient, showing no more signs of accepting the therapy than any of the others. There have been slight gains in cell migration and morphogenesis (including effects similar to Human Growth Hormone), but nothing to suggest the stable creation of a sentient, independent swarm. So tired. Doubting my judgment. Will submit another request for leave. The psychological cost of using such far gone and further provoked patients is more than I feel I can handle.  May suggest hanging less hope on the far-flung theories of a senile Nazi and move towards using a simpler mechanical engine based on major sperm protein.  Will definitely suggest harsher chemical restraints. Murkoff Security killed patient 923 after he overcame enough tranquilizers to put down a hockey team. I’m afraid the Hormone Therapy is interacting with our chemical restraints in a counterproductive manner. This file.  This file was very important.  It gave insight that had not been present in past documents.  The use of words in her text made it sound like…. Dr. Wernicke was still alive. I stared at the phrase she included which made the doctors status current, if it was not a mistake of word use.  But that would make him ninety years old, at the least.  I set the file down and looked upon the carnage, the violence, the death.  I corrected myself.  Wernicke had been alive.  I couldn’t imagine him surviving this.  I tossed the file aside and ventured through the door, turning to the corridors end.  Expulsion of gooey innards spread high on the wall, long red lines slid down before the liquid dried. More death, more bodies that had at one time been living people.  I pressed my hand to the wall as I took the right corner, avoiding the skin stretched across polished white floor.  I don’t know why I was self-conscious now, after I had traipsed through mounds of bodies in the Asylums halls.  I couldn’t even come up with a cheap theory.  Every corner, I saw red and wet entrails, black skin and orange puss.  The air was filled with its rancid vapor, from the methane released as the meat soured.  What would they do with all these bodies?  Where could you put them all? I didn’t reach the doors in my path.  I had to stop and lean on the wall, gazing at them.  Doors and more doors.  What would be behind them?  My liberation at last?  I didn’t care, I had to lie down, rest.  The ache in my skull was unbearable, if I took one more step I would fall.  I couldn’t go on like this.  I just kept seeing bodies and faces, images I couldn’t explain.  What was I seeing?  I wasn’t even hiding in the shadows.  The shapes were no longer trapped in my camera. The room spun, I kept myself from stumbling with my hand on the wall as I lowered down.  There was a shallow slant beside the floor, I propped my good side on this to keep the pressure off my ribs.  I kept the camera in my right hand and set it beside me.  I wasn’t planning on sleeping, just needed to give myself a chance to cut the ache.  The floor was cold but it felt so good to lay my head against it.  It didn’t even matter how bright the bulbs were above, I could turn my face into the collar of my coat and shut my eyes. Almost at once I felt my mind descending into a thick blanket of sleep.  I tried to stir from the tempting lull, but I couldn’t resist.  I was surrounded by the corpses of dozens of unnamed scientists but I didn’t give a damn, it was too hard to stay conscious.  I escaped the pain, I escaped the world, and I escaped the cold halls churning in my mind. As I felt my body slip into the illusion of safety, a painful spasm shot up my spine.  I was paralyzed.  The sensation was horrible, my muscles locked up and I couldn’t will them to relax.  It was as if the concept of mobility was ripped from my brain.  I was a prisoner in my body, fully capable of detecting the environment around me but unable to react to it.  I felt the camera in my hand as I slowly regained consciousness, but… I remained unable to rip free of the powerful vice that had seized my chest.  It was too painful to do anything less pathetic than cringe.  I whined as my ribs shifted in my side and gagged.  I was suffocating!  My eyes open drunkenly, dots whirling in my vision as my brain craved oxygen.  I saw something.  A dark shape leaning over me, staring into my face. I barked out a terrified sound and swung my arms out, clipping the wall with my left hand as I thrashed.  I scrambled over the floor struggling to escape thin air, until I was pressed back into the doors.  I stared wild eyed, disturbed and gasping for air, despite the odd tickle in my chest.  There was… Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  The lights blazed down as fierce as when I had dropped, my head pulsed the same as before.  No change.  There was no demon here. The sharp sting returned to my finger as I recalled, I’d just smacked a stone wall with it.  I clutched the shaking hand to my chest, and curled my other arm around it and barred myself in with my knees.  I sat for moment fighting to forget the pain, while my filthy pants soaked up red drops.   “Nothing is here,” I whispered.  “Just a nightmare.”  My voice rattled against the walls, impossibly loud, overpowering briefly the dull buzz that hung over me.  I uncoiled and trusted weight on the bleeding hand to push me upright.  My body was uncooperative but my mental brawn won over. I shut the door behind me and scanned the long corridor ahead.  To my eyes it just went on forever.  Probably wasn’t too far off.  A thick pipe extended overhead, I saw no other visible wires and took this might have been the main electrical.  Beside it metal cabinets jutted from the walls, though the natural stone work remained in this tunnel, along with various protrusions.  Additions, such as flues were burrowed into the rock on either side, and another thick gray pipe extended along the ceiling. Electricity was in the air, I could feel it like the hum from a television when you first turn it on.  But it’s forceful, charged in the empty space but not in the walls themselves.  Maybe it was the lamps overhead.  I set my hand on the gray pipe testing the vibrations but felt none.  I ignored the marks of blood I left behind, as I walked and swayed around the huge tanks.  Many stood my height but none held clear labels, just a serial label printed on the metal top.   The sides of the floor were marked with caution strips, and other more descript warning lines marked the floor every few feet.  I skimmed over the large pipes bent and twisted along the corridor walls, of what they transported I couldn’t say.  Looked like aqueducts, but I doubted this.  Pallets stacked high with bags and covered with a blue tarp, had been abandoned in the hall. I tried to peel back the plastic cover and record what was beneath but the material was thick.  I also lacked the patience.  I slipped over the top rather crawl around. Judging by the layout of this tunnel, I could deduce this was not a main wing but dedicated to temporary storage hall.  Plans in the schedule might have included park the pellets in a more particle space, but that was before the shit storm hit.  Or this was another example of a lapse in protocol.  I winced when another thought hit.  Files existed that made note on the cutback in staff costs.  The man I had seen playing the piano.  Had he been a patient? I jumped when the camera sputtered, the noise echoed from the chiseled walls.  Damn it!  That scared the shit out of me!  I held it away as the visor cleared, and continued walking.  The files would be corrupt, I decided.  But I could still salvage them, I had equipment for that.  My shoulders shook on the thought of reviewing what I had recorded.  The sounds I made when I ran from Trager.  It didn’t even sound like me.  Was that really me? I said that allowed, and paused to glance around wondering if it was I that had spoken.  I barely began walking when I noticed to my left, a window.  I skid to a stop and backed up.  A window!  Transparent hand prints of red stained the surface, but beyond that sunlight.  Sunlight!  From the outside!  It was all clear golden sky, rolling hills.  No more storms filled with monsters shrieking with the thunder!  The outside world was still out there.  It was waiting just for me.   I was staring into a militaristic hangar, a few vehicles parked under the steel structure ceiling, the walls stretched around appeared reinforced.  Most important of all, there was no sign of life, no movement.  Just equipment, materials, large barrels of god knows what.  And that beautiful sunlight washed across the military jeep wedged in the doorway.  If I was viewing it from the correct angle, no one was going to close that door unless they packed some powerful explosives.  Or, had the key to the jeep.  I held the camera up and filmed what I was seeing, while trying not to get too close to the Plexiglas.  There had to be— Ah. Over there!  Far right wall, lit up like Christmas.  A purge gate.  From the distance and discoloration of the window, I couldn’t validate if it functioned or not.  But it didn’t matter, it was the first entrance/exit I had come across.  There didn’t seem to be any difficulty in dismantling those purge gates though.  How did I get over there? I tracked the hall that continued before me, with my eyes.  If I had a map, no doubt it’d have an arrow indicating this way led to the exit.  Large blue barrels sat in my path, I could view traces of blood on the walls just beyond them. Directly behind me, another set of doors clear and featureless.  Above the frame a green bulb, indicating they were unlocked?  I stared into the white hall within, while my mind hunted for escape.  I had visions of myself entering that small hall and an alarm going off, a steel shutter lowering like in some James Bond film and me stuck inside forever because I just couldn’t let go. Or maybe I was afraid to?  Could that be it? The doors parted automatically upon detecting my movement, the plastic panels issued a soft hiss as frigid air swept out.  I paused in the entrance, not doubting my fears, whichever ones I had.  I debated turning away and just leaving, working on that gate and my inevitable freedom.  But I really couldn’t have too much evidence. I said that once before.  But maybe I was right.  I was afraid. The short hall was cold, the air crisp, fresh.  One of the two doors was left open, which explained the drop in temperature.  It was a small room filled with freezers, all below zero temperatures.  I stepped around the right side trying a few of the doors, but they required access codes through key panels.  At the left side of the room a door had been smashed, the locking mechanism no longer active allowed numerous clear vials to spill across the floor.  Whatever the contents, they had dried and converted white limestone into varying shades of iridescent.  I kicked a few away with my foot and listened as the glass crinkled as I turned.  Along the back wall of the room sat lesser refrigerated cabinets, the contents exposed through foggy glass.   Beside them, a dry erase board.  I stood before it, my camera giving its usual complaint as I waited patiently for it to quiet.  It was some form of chemical engineering algorithm, exponents and a formula function I did not recognize.  All in blue marker, except for the title at the top, which was a simple label written in black.  

Morphogenic Engine

[setaripendragon]

Never Simple - Chapter 4

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] This chapter is mostly just build up, if I’m honest, and Tucker is really annoying to write. I’m never sure if I’ve got the right balance of unassuming and creepy.

Central City was huge and crowded. To Ed, who had never been beyond Risembool before, it was overwhelming. He was loathe to admit it, but he really did not want to get off the train. Just looking at the platform through the window was enough to make him feel claustrophobic. But he wasn’t the only one inside his own body anymore, and Truth got them up off the seat before Ed could sink any deeper into his reluctance.

Swallowing down his nerves, Ed gave Truth a mental nudge, and took over the task of collecting his suitcase. “Come on, Al.” He said, watching his brother as unobtrusively as possible to make sure he didn’t need any help. Al nodded, although he didn’t look any happier than Ed about the prospect of wading through the press of people on the platform, and slid down off his seat.

It hadn’t been the plan, for Al to come with him. Ed had been very determined to do this on his own, not to drag Al any deeper into the shit he’d stirred up, but then… Al hadn’t gotten better. Not all the way. It wasn’t anything as bad as right after Truth had possessed him – no more seizures, no more passing out, no more or lost time – but he’d been running a constant low-grade fever that just… wouldn’t go away. He complained of aching all the time, of shortness of breath, of persistent coughs and colds.

Then he’d caught pneumonia, and Ed had been half convinced he was going to have to bury his brother less than a year after burying his mother, he’d gotten so bad so quickly. After that, Granny had insisted that Al go with Ed to Central to see a specialist or five, and Ed hadn’t argued, never mind the fact that Al had eventually gotten better.

Wordlessly, Al grabbed hold of Ed’s hand, and Ed squeezed back, hoping it was reassuring. Then he set his jaw and forged ahead, hopping down off the train and into the seething crowd. The press of humanity was immediately overwhelming, and Ed was abruptly reminded of the Gate, of the multitudes of biological masses crushed together and writhing amongst each other, desperate and devouring and- His body threatened to lock up but Truth, once again, took over and kept them moving. They popped out of the scrum right beside the train into a less crowded section of the station, Al’s hand still safely clutched in Ed’s, only to be immediately confronted with military blue.

“Ah, there you are.”

Truth rippled under Ed’s skin, an instinctive roiling, and even if Ed hadn’t recognised the voice, he would have known who it was just from that reaction. “Mustang.” He greeted, glancing over the man and the ever-present Hawkeye at his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to meet you at the military place.” He added with a scowl, because Granny had lectured him thoroughly on where he was supposed to go and how to get there, and there had been no talk of someone meeting them at the station.

“Originally, yes.” Mustang agreed. “But my original plans only factored in yourself, a State Alchemist candidate, for which I would have a certain leeway in providing for with military funds. The same could not be said for your brother, so I was forced to make other arrangements.”

Ed glowered, wondering whether he ought to take offence at the way the man was making Al sound like an inconvenient burden. Before he could do more than take a deep breath, though, Al squeezed his hand, and interrupted. “What sort of other arrangements, sir?”

“Since you would not be permitted to reside in the military dorms until the exam, I’ve convinced a State Alchemist to take you both in until the exams. I assumed you wouldn’t want to be separated.” He added, glancing at where they were still holding on to each other.

Ed refused to be embarrassed. “You got that right.” He asserted.

Mustang smiled, infuriatingly smug, and turned towards the exit. “Come along, then, Messrs Elric.”

“Not your fucking dog, bastard.” Ed growled.

“Not yet.” Mustang retorted without missing a beat, and Ed was dearly tempted to kick the man in the back of his knee. He wouldn’t be so smug after he’d fallen flat on his face in the middle of a train station. It was a nice thought, anyway, even if he knew Truth would never actually let him go through with it.

Mustang led them to a shiny black car, and opened the back door for them while Hawkeye got into the driver’s seat. Ed made Al get in first, then shoved their suitcases in, and climbed in after him. “How’re you feeling, Al?” He checked, rearranging the suitcases so they weren’t in the way. Mustang reappeared, getting into the front passenger seat, and Hawkeye started the car and pulled out onto the road.

Al gave Ed a deeply long-suffering look and a fond smile. “I’m okay, Brother. Really.” He added when Ed only continued to stare at him, trying to judge if he was being sincere. “Just a little bit tired.” He added, which was par for the course these days, and so it didn’t worry Ed too much.

“Then you should have a nap whenever we get to where we’re going.” Ed insisted, and then turned to look at what he could see of Mustang, which was mostly just his shoulder, his hair, and one pale ear. “Where are we going, anyway?” He demanded, raising his voice a little to make it clear he wasn’t talking to Al anymore.

“You’ll be staying at the house of Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist.” Mustang informs him. “He has a very extensive library, including several works on biological alchemy that cannot be found anywhere else. I thought you might appreciate the chance to study some more before the exams.” He explained smugly.

Ed honestly wasn’t sure whether it was himself or Truth that snorted at that. They were so united in their scorn at the notion that they might need to study that it hardly mattered anyway. “If there’s anything he can teach me about biological alchemy, I’ll eat my boot.” Ed announced, folding his arms over his chest decisively.

Mustang turned around at that to give Ed a deeply unimpressed look. “For his own State Alchemist exam, Shou Tucker successfully created a talking chimera.” He stated, and then raised one eyebrow in blatant challenge.

Ed narrowed his eyes right back. “Talking or mimicking?” He asked.

Mustang’s other eyebrow rose to join its twin. “What do you mean?”

Slumping back into his seat, Ed scowled and rolled his eyes. “I mean that there are a lot of animals that can mimic human speech. Parrots, corvids, some monkeys. Make a chimera out of one or more of those, and you could probably teach them a bunch of phrases. So. Was it actually conversing, or was it just mimicking human voices, repeating things by rote?”

“It said only ‘I want to die’.” Mustang informed him, sounding mildly thoughtful, and Ed made a triumphant sound, that died in his throat a moment later when Mustang finished; “Then it starved itself until it got its wish.”

So it knew what it was saying. Truth concluded for Ed.

Some birds can use human speech to communicate. It’s not exactly conclusive proof. Ed thought grouchily, but he knew Truth would be able to tell that he wasn’t convinced. It was one thing for a bird to learn to associate the sound ‘food’ with being fed, and use it to request food, and another thing entirely for it to manage proper grammar, to understand ‘I’ and ‘want’ and the grammatical difference between ‘death’ and ‘to die’. And to put it all together into a sentence that wasn’t just a bunch of sounds learned by rote, but something it meant, enough to starve itself to death.

Not an easy thing to do, with food being provided for it. Truth pointed out, not that Ed needed it to. Survival instinct was a powerful force, usually. I assume Mustang would have mentioned it if the chimera looked human? Truth wondered, sending a nasty chill through Ed.

“Did it… look anything like a human?” Ed asked tentatively.

There was a pause, and Ed looked up to find Mustang glancing back at him again, startled by the question. “Not at all.” He said, with enough conviction that Ed didn’t doubt that he’d seen it. “It looked somewhat like a dog, somewhat like a monkey, and somewhat like a very small pony.” He paused, thoughtfully. “It had opposable thumbs, though.”

There was a grim note to Truth’s emotions that made Ed feel a bit sick. “Are there pictures?” He asked, and then, even though he didn’t want to; “Can I see them?”

Mustang abruptly looked smug again. “So, is this you admitting that perhaps Mr Tucker could teach you something about biological alchemy?” He taunted. Ed glowered at him, but Mustang just hummed knowingly, and returned his attention to the front of the car. “I’m sure Mr Tucker would be willing to show you his notes, if you asked nicely.”

Ed crossed his arms in a huff, but resolved that he would do his best to wheedle the notes out of Tucker. After the last six months or so, Ed had learned enough about the composition of many different brains to know that it would have been difficult – if not impossible – for Tucker to create a sufficiently advanced brain in a chimera made up of less complex animals. There was a very slim possibility that, if he’d studied brain structure and brain chemistry thoroughly enough, he could piece together a functional language-processing system out of bits and pieces, but… Ed had a sneaking suspicion that that would have required the knowledge of the things behind the gate.

It’s a really bad sign when you’re hoping for it to just be human experimentation, isn’t it? Ed thought dully, turning his head to glower out of the window. Truth didn’t answer, but Ed didn’t really need it to.

Outside the window, Central City rushed past, buildings and people and a couple of other cars now and then. The occasional tree or patch of greenery that signified a park or a particularly well-kept lawn. It distracted Truth more than it did Ed. It’s been so long since I last saw through human eyes. Truth explained, when Ed wondered about it’s preoccupation with the sights. It had said similar things before, when Ed was exploring Risembool, and it had been particularly interested in automail, which had definitely endeared it to Winry, but this seemed… different somehow. Cities didn’t used to taste like this, so much metal, steel and iron. And the concrete. Plastics. Ed’s head spun a little as Truth remembered every ‘taste’ it had experienced as Ed had ploughed through the crowd at the station, the molecular structure of everything it had touched en route to the car.

The scenery eventually slowed, and then stopped, and then Hawkeye said, somewhat unnecessarily, “we’re here,” as she turned the car off. Ed turned to check on Al, and found that at some point, he’d fallen into a light doze, head resting against the window.

“Al?” Ed called gently, reaching out to nudge his brother’s shoulder. Al grumbled, scrunched his face up, and tipped his head to squint blearily at Ed. “We’re here.” He repeated, and Al perked up a little, lifting his head properly to look out of the window.

“Oh.” He said dumbly, and Ed snorted.

“Come on, sleepy, let’s get inside so you can have a proper nap.”

Al nodded, so Ed scrambled out of the car, dragging their suitcases behind him so that Al couldn’t try to be an idiot and carry his own. The house he found himself standing in front of was huge, with a wrought iron gate and a wide lawn and at least three stories of red brick and large arched windows. “Oh, wow.” Al breathed as he came up to stand at Ed’s shoulder. “This place is huge.”

“The State Alchemist programme pays very handsomely.” Mustang agreed, smugly. Ed was beginning to figure out that was just the man’s default state. He allowed himself to be ushered up the pretty white path bisecting the front garden, and up the steps that lead to the front door. It was very nearly picturesque, but the closer Ed got to the door, the less he actually wanted to go through it. Something about this place was setting his teeth on edge.

Mustang knocked on the door, and after a few minutes, one half creaked open apparently by itself. At least, that’s what Ed thought until he looked down and saw a little auburn-haired girl hanging off the door handle. “Hello.” She said, staring up at them. “Are you Daddy’s guests?”

“That’s us!” Al confirmed cheerfully.

“Nina!” An exasperated voice called, right before a man that Ed assumed was Shou Tucker appeared behind his daughter. “I’m sorry, I was in my lab. Hello, Colonel Mustang, Lieutenant.” He greeted them with a nod, and then looked to Ed and Al. “And these must be the Elric brothers.”

“I’m Ed, and this is my little brother, Al.” Ed introduced.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Tucker replied with a faint smile. “I’m Shou Tucker, and this is my daughter, Nina.” Ed was about to say he’d figured that much out already, but Al elbowed him, and he snapped his mouth shut before the words spilled out. Right, politeness. “Please, come in.” Tucker went on, stepping back from the doorway and tugging Nina with him. “Will you be staying, Colonel? I can put on some tea…” He trailed off, sounding just a little uncertain, or maybe sheepish was a better word. Ed couldn’t quite place that strange hesitance.

“Tea would be lovely.” Mustang said politely.

Hawkeye cleared her throat. “You have work, sir.” She reminded him crisply, giving him the evil eye. Ed didn’t even bother to hide his grin at the way Mustang squirmed.

“Work can wait for another fifteen minutes, Lieutenant.” Mustang protested. “You wouldn’t want to abandon two children in a strange house without making sure they were settling in okay, would you? Besides, it would be rude to refuse.” He wheedled.

Hawkeye glared at him, but then her gaze softened a little as it flicked down to take in Ed and Al. Who absolutely did not need any supervision to dump their suitcases in a guest room and locate the library, but whatever. Adults were weird about that sort of thing. “Fifteen minutes, sir.” Hawkeye capitulated.

“Excellent!” Mustang enthused.

Tucker, who’d been watching the back and forth in bemusement, started leading them down the impressive hall now that everyone had decided whether they were staying or going. Nina scampered along at his heels, constantly peeking back at Ed and Al. Al waved every time she did, and on the third go around, Ed was pretty sure he heard her giggle.

The kitchen was just as large and impressive as the rest of the house, and they settled in around the large table after Ed double checked that Al was okay to stay up long enough for tea. “I told Edward some about your work on the way here.” Mustang began, once they all had steaming mugs in front of them. “He was very interested in your talking chimera.”

Tucker grimaced. “Ah, yes…” He sighed, and then glanced towards Edward, who was sitting up a little straighter, and trying to look attentive, instead of suspicious. “I was very proud of that, but I’ve been… unable to replicate the results.” He admitted ruefully, adjusting his glasses.

Do you think he could have put the right pieces together by accident? Ed wondered sceptically. Truth didn’t reply, just nudged him to pay attention. “That’s a pity.” Ed said, trying to sound sincere. “Do you think I could see your notes?”

Tucker blinked at him in surprise. “Uh… sure…” He said slowly, then winced. “That is… if you can find them. I know they’re in the library somewhere, but I can’t remember where. It’s been a while since I could wring anything useful out of them myself.”

“We can see your library?” Al asked, bright and eager. It was a relief to see, given how tired Al tended to be most of the time these days.

Tucker huffed a sound that was almost a laugh, and nodded. “Of course. I’m afraid I have a lot of work to do, what with the recertification coming up, so I won’t have any time to entertain guests.” Another grimace, and this time he slanted his look across to Nina. “I barely have any time for Nina anymore, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s okay, Daddy. I have Alexander to play with!” Nina assured him.

Tucker smiled, and leaned over to pat her on the head. “Alexander?” Al asked curiously.

“Our dog!” Nina informed him. “He’s huge and white and fluffy! And he’s really friendly and loves hugs!” She enthused.

Al chuckled, which turned into a cough. “He sounds like the perfect dog.” He managed to say once he’d suppressed the cough and drunk some tea to help wash the tickle away.

“Are you okay, Mister?” Nina asked, peering at him with exaggerated little kid worry.

“It’s just a cold.” Al assured her, not even twitching, the lying liar.

“You should go lie down.” Ed told him. “Get that nap.”

“I slept in the car, Brother. I’m fine.” Al insisted, scowling at him. “I’m not made of glass, you know.” Ed scowled right back, opening his mouth to argue further, but Al cut him off before he could start. “Besides, I want to see Mr Tucker’s library. Imagine how big it must be if you could lose notes in it!” His gaze slid out of focus as his expression turned wistful.

Ed couldn’t really blame him, but he could put his foot down. “Nap first, then the library.” He ordered. And this time he was the one cutting Al off before he could argue, which he was definitely going to with that outraged look on his face. “If you see the library first, you’ll start reading, and then the next thing you know, it’ll be dinner time, and you won’t have gotten a nap at all! Nap first.”

“Spoilsport.” Al pouted, because they both knew Ed was right. “You just want to keep the library all to yourself.”

“You know I’d rather have you there, Al.” Ed shot back, and Al wilted.

“You could come play with me and Alexander while Al has a nap, and that way you still both get to see the library together?” Nina suggested, and even though her voice was bold, there was a look on her face that tugged at Ed’s heartstrings. Truth was less affected, but since it didn’t actually voice a complaint, Ed decided to ignore it.

“I guess I could…” Ed mused reluctantly.

“That’s really sweet of you, Nina.” Al said, kicking Ed under the table. “I’m sure Brother would love to play with you.” Ed kicked Al back, but nodded for Nina, and the last of his reluctance melted away when he saw how she brightened at the confirmation.

“Well, since you seem to be settling in perfectly well, it’s time we were getting back to the office.” Hawkeye interjected. “Thank you very much for the tea, Mr Tucker.”

“Of course.” Tucker replied, trying not to smile at Mustang’s theatrical groan as he hauled himself to his feet. While Tucker was seeing them out, Ed chivvied Al upstairs to their room for the next few weeks, and tucked him into bed, despite Al’s eye-rolling at his fussing. Ed knew he was being kind of overbearing, honestly, but with all the knowledge Truth had crammed into his own head and leaking through in dribs and drabs, it just left him painfully aware of how ridiculously, stupidly fragile the human body really was.

Sitting on the edge of Al’s bed, he reached out and patted Al’s head, surreptitiously checking his temperature under the guise of ruffling his hair. “I’m just worried about you.” He muttered. “That’s my job as big brother.”

“I love you, too.” Al huffed fondly. “Now go away and let me sleep.”

Ed snorted, and ruffled Al’s hair a little more vigorously in punishment before getting up and going to find Nina. He found her peeking out at him from around the corner at the end of the hall his and Al’s bedroom was on, and when she spotted him she gave a tentative, hopeful little wave. “Hey.” Ed greeted. “So where’s Alexander, and what do you want to play?”

Beaming, Nina grabbed his hand the moment he was in reach, and began towing him towards the stairs. “Alexander is outside, because Daddy says he needs lots of exercise, but he doesn’t have time to take him for a walk.”

“Well, maybe we can do that for your dad while we’re here. You, me, and Al can take a walk with Alexander, and you can show us if there are any good parks around here.” Ed suggested. Of course, he regretted that offer the moment he stepped out of the back door and was promptly tackled by the biggest, fluffiest, friendliest dog he’d ever met and flattened to the floor as it snuffled at his hair and attempted to lick his face.

“Alexander likes you!” Nina enthused.

“Great.” Ed grumbled, pressing his face into the grass in the hopes of deterring the overly affectionate miniature bear sitting on top of him. The slew of mocking laughter he was expecting to hear inside his own head never came, and for all that he was glad not to be laughed at, it was more than a little weird to have such silence in his head when he’d gotten so used to the Truth having an opinion on everything.

You still there? He prodded.

Of course. I could hardly be anywhere else. Truth replied, but it felt distracted.

What’s got you all weird then? Ed pressed while he attempted to wriggle out from under Alexander, which devolved into play-wrestling, mostly because it made Nina laugh so hard she fell over on the grass.

We don’t… like this place. Truth decided.

Ed really wished he he could give Truth a look for that one, but he settled for just projecting as much disbelief and scepticism as he could. Because, well, obviously it didn’t. The guy who lived here was either experimenting on humans or had committed the same sin as Ed, that made the whole place creepy. What’s that supposed to mean?

We don’t know. Truth grumbled, petulant and frustrated and uncomfortable.

Well, let me know when you figure it out. Ed thought, rolling his eyes, and then threw himself headlong into playing with Nina and her bear that was masquerading as a dog to distract himself from everything. He didn’t really know what the hell was bothering Truth, but he could admit that he wasn’t exactly at ease with this place either. He would feel better once he’d found Tucker’s notes and could figure out what, exactly, he’d done to make a talking chimera, but since that had to wait for Al to wake up, he didn’t want to dwell on it.

Nina, he found, was a very lonely kid. All the shyness he’d seen in her before melted away under a little bit of attention, and she became quite the precocious little commander when given the opportunity. They played for long enough that even Ed was starting to get a little tired, and he was grateful when Nina flopped down onto the grass and called time out. He sat down beside her, and was forced to admit that Alexander wasn’t terrible when he came and flopped down in exactly the right place to be a back-rest for Ed to lean against.

“You must be a really good big brother.” Nina said lazily towards the sky.

Ed choked back the bitter laugh that wanted to escape on the surge of guilt that statement provoked. “I dunno. I try.” He hedged awkwardly.

“I wish I had a big brother like you.” Nina went on, and she sounded so stupidly sad and wistful that Ed couldn’t bring himself to explain to her that she really, really didn’t want a brother like him.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “Well, hey. Plenty of me to go around. I’m sure Al wouldn’t mind sharing.” Nina gasped and scrambled to sit up, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “A baby sister wouldn’t be too terrible.” He added, looking away and scratching at the back of his head awkwardly.

“I’m not a baby.” Nina protested, but didn’t linger over long on the point when there were clearly more important issues to address. “Really? You mean it?!”

“Sure.” Ed confirmed. “Me’n’Al, we can be your big brothers, if you want.” Nina threw herself at him, landing half on his stomach as she wrapped her tiny arms around him. Ed wheezed, but didn’t let it stop him hugging her back. After a little while, during which Nina showed absolutely no signs of intending to let go of him any time soon, Ed said; “It must get pretty lonely in this big house just you and your dad.”

“Mm.” Nina agreed. “I don’t mind, Daddy’s work is important and I have Alexander.” She insisted, but Ed was beginning to suspect that was lie.

“What about your mum?” Ed asked, even though he wasn’t sure it was a good idea.

“Mummy left.” Nina told him, very subdued. “She used to say that Daddy wasn’t doing enough to s’pport us, and Daddy won’t say, but I think that’s why she left. That’s why Daddy’s work is so important. If he works hard enough… maybe Mummy will come back.”

Ed winced. Yeah, that made a nasty kind of sense. He would lay good money on Mummy never coming back, but he certainly wasn’t about to tell Nina that if she wanted to cling to the hope that she might. So instead he asked Nina if she was in school yet – not yet, she was starting next year – and what she was looking forward to learning most – science, of course, because she was obviously a little kid with excellent taste.

Al found them not much later, and grinned down at the pile of them on the lawn. “You look like you had fun, Nina.” He said, sitting down cross-legged beside Ed’s legs.

“Yeah! We played tag, and princesses and dragons, and I got to be a knight, and Alexander really likes big brother Ed.” Nina explained, sitting up a little and nearly kneeing him in the side in her enthusiasm. Ed wrapped an arm around her middle in an attempt to prevent too much squirming.

Al arched an eyebrow at Ed at that last part, and Ed glowered at him, tightening the loose hold he had on Nina in response. “We have a little sister now.” He declared stubbornly.

“You don’t mind sharing, right, Al?” Nina checked.

“Not at all.” Al assured her. “Especially not with someone as cool as you.” He added, which made Nina light up with pride.

Ed took the opportunity to start clambering to his feet, setting Nina on her own feet once he was up, and then offering Al a hand. “So, library?” He asked with an eager grin.

Al took his hand, but didn’t immediately jump on the idea of finally getting to the library, although he looked decidedly torn. “I was thinking, Brother.” He began, and Ed gave him a pleading look, begging without words for him to not distract them from the library. Al, of course, ignored him. “We really do need to see if we can find a good butchers nearby, and you know if we don’t do it now, we’ll never get around to it.” He pointed out significantly.

Ed sighed. “You know it’s not like they’re going to have fresh produce in the city.” He retorted, but he wasn’t really arguing.

“The closer to the source we get it from, the better it will be for you.” Al countered.

“But the library-!” Ed whined, gesturing back towards the house.

“It’ll still be there when we get back.” Al assured him. Ed scowled at him for being patronising, but he knew that he couldn’t exactly explain what exactly he was so eager to look for while Nina was in hearing range. “Unless you want to try hunting for rabbits in the underbrush again.” Al said thoughtfully.

Ed actually considered that, sincerely enough that he got Truth’s attention. At the sense of Truth’s curiosity, he indulged the memory of the training he and Al had been put through in order to prove themselves worthy of alchemy training, too relieved that Truth was actually responding to something to deny it out of spite. Truth, however, had no compunctions about laughing at him. An excellent alchemy teacher. It decided. But we should still see if we can find a butcher.

You just want to get out of this house. Ed accused. Truth didn’t respond to that, because they both knew that Truth wasn’t the only one who would be grateful for an excuse to get away. Ed was torn though, between the creepy feeling he got from the place, and the need to know exactly what was going on here.

He was distracted from his internal musings when he heard Nina asking “Why would you be hunting for rabbits?”

“To eat.” Ed informed her bluntly, ignoring the stinkeye Al gave him for it.

Nina gasped in horror. “No! That’s mean!”

“That’s how life works.” Ed retorted. Al punched him in the arm, and then turned to Nina to try and explain the circle of life to her in a less upsetting way. “Come on, you can explain while we walk.” Ed told him, and Al nodded, agreeably continuing his explanation while they trooped through the house, found a leash for Alexander, and set off on their quest.

[feelingsdusk-writes]

Fides

Chapter 5

It’s a point-blank shot.

Stiles doesn’t even get the chance to scream. For an agonizingly painful fraction of a second, it burns as if he’s suddenly been submerged in molten lava, as if magma is eating away his flesh, his insides, and leaving nothing behind. Then, his brain screeches to a halt, unable to process more, and he feels nothing.

“STILES!”

Like a puppet with its strings cut down, Stiles slumps heavily to the side, nearly crushing some of the fairies under his dead weight. Some shout his name, panicked, while the others simply scream in denial. At that very same instant, the bullet rebounds against seemingly nothing before even reaching him, making Sterling’s head snap backwards unnaturally. Then the momentum makes her fall like a log to the ground, where she remains motionless, her hand still holding the gun but completely limp.

There’s a second of shocked silence before the fairies scramble to move under Stiles’ numb stare. Beriadan, Eglantine, others, are trying to get his attention and it takes him a bit to understand that they keep repeating the same thing again and again. At their behest he searches inside once more and, when he finds it, he absently cuts the flow. When did that happen? Dark starts advancing from the edge of his vision and he doesn’t care, he just wants to sleep forever.

“No, Stiles! You can’t sleep! Quick, do it or we’ll lose him! No, not you! At least three of us need to be able to fly just in case!”

Everything becomes overwhelming at once. His vision whites, his nerves light as if on fire and there’s a shrill ringing in his ears. Then, as fast as it came, it all comes to an abrupt ending, the pain reaching agonizing heights before disappearing. His stomach does a somersault that has him gagging for a moment before it settles a bit. He opens his eyes when it finally feels safe to do so, his vision blurry but clearing gradually. His body feels disconnected, as if his nerves have overheated and snapped, and sensation is seeping back in but tortuously slow. His brain is sluggish too, as if it only has energy to turn back on each neuron one at a time. The fact that he nearly died, that he didn’t care whether that happened or not, begins to set in.

Stiles swallows, his saliva so thick in his mouth that he almost chokes with it. He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes and pressing the heels of his hands to them. There’s a headache pulsing dully in his temples but its intensity is increasing steadily as the seconds pass. It’s scarily similar to the beginnings of the migraines he gets after pulling two all-nighters in a row, when he’s exhausted and needs to sleep but he can’t because insomnia has settled in. He knows he has to get out of here in case that happens, but he can’t seem to able to gather the will nor the wit to do so, much less the strength.

“Stiles, come on, honey. Up with you. We can’t be caught here!”

Right, Stiles knows that.

He breathes deeply again.

One step at a time.

He twists until he can push himself up with arms that feel newborn weak. It takes a couple of failed attempts, but he perseveres. Once he’s on all fours, he gets his feet under himself and finishes getting himself upright. He looks around, willing his mind to start working again. The more he moves, the easier it gets.

Stiles is strong. He can do this. Last year, at the worst possible moment, some assholes decided to steal from his computer some programs that Stiles had refused to sell to them. If he was able to do advanced hacking while the sounds of his own tapping on the keyboard were making him feel like his brain was liquefying, he can do this, no problem. He fried their computers and destroyed their reputations (consequently building up his own) in one fell swoop, walking out of here should be nothing.

“My prints,” Stiles rasps, the pain making his eyes squint, but fortunately, not getting worse. He needs to get out of here now. He’s so thirsty too… He remembers he has half a bottle of water and a couple of painkillers and takes them out. He shallows one pill and drinks most of the water before using what little remains to wash his face. He feels marginally less sluggish at the sudden coolness on his temples. He wishes he had the luxury of being able to wait for the painkiller to kick in but that’s not the case. “My prints are everywhere and this place is off limits,” he elaborates looking to where he was hiding. His bag is there but the papers he was holding are gone and he panics. “My papers!”

“They burned,” Eglantine answers promptly, catching on easily.

“What?”

“When you deflected that bullet they burned to ashes,” she explains.

Stiles tries to wrap his head around it and desists immediately. Now is not the time to think about how it happened. It happened and he’s alive, that’s all that is important right now. There’s a dead woman mere steps away from him, blood already pooled around her head like a macabre halo that's steadily expanding and tons of incriminating evidence against Stiles. His prints, his hair, his presence itself. The only thing he needs to know right now about those papers is that they’re not flying around the school grounds or the rooftop to point anyone in Stiles’ direction.

Belatedly, Stiles also realizes that out of all the fairies present, only three seem to be able to fly and their light is still shining brightly. The others’ glow is dull and almost nonexistent, which means that their energy is about to run out.

“Can you fly?” he asks them and they shake their heads. “Get inside my backpack just in case. We don’t know where the night guard is and if I have to hide quickly I’m not gonna be able to grab you all without being caught.” He frowns as they climb inside, thinking about the suspiciously absent guard, who should have noticed something already. “Did you see him before you came up?” he asks as he picks up the bag and puts it on. Eglantine climbs inside his hood almost instantly and answers with a negative. “That’s so weird…” Stiles murmurs and turns his attention to the fairies that still can fly. “Can you localize and distract the guard for a moment, Aelfwine? Maybe,” he swallows. “Maybe we’re lucky and he hasn’t noticed anything yet.”

“Done,” the blond answers immediately. “Srindin, come with me. Tarnsin, remain here.”

They leave and Stiles looks around himself. There’s blood and other things on the railing and the ground behind where Sterling was standing. He can’t touch that. He eyes the part where he knows his fingertips are again. Inside the little cranny where he was hiding, there will probably be traces of sweat and maybe even hair too. He has to make that evidence disappear.

He frowns. If a huntress was killed does that mean that more hunters will come? More hunters that don’t follow the code, that will use this to start a witch hunt or maybe will use it to incriminate and justify taking out the creatures she was hunting? Or even if they follow the code, how can Stiles prove that this was self-defense when he himself doesn’t even know exactly what happened?

So what now? Does he only erase his presence here or does he have to get rid of the body? And blood. And the gun. Maybe make it look like she left and send an email in her name resigning due to extreme circumstances? And create a fake trail of her leaving, make her car disappear… but he doesn’t know how to drive… and how is he going to carry her body?

This is insane.

And completely impossible.

It’s just…

He’s exhausted and hurt, but even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be able to carry her dead weight (pun not intended), much less do that while avoiding the night guard. He wouldn’t be able to pull that off even if the fairies weren’t exhausted too. There’s no way to do it, it’s impossible and insane and really dangerous and he’s completely in over his head, and everything is going to explode in his face. There’s. No. Way. Damn the twins, damn his classmates, damn Sterling. Damn himself, damn his choices. Damn everyone. And fuck them too. Fuck everything. And…

Except…

Kate admitted that she didn’t think him a supernatural creature… so maybe she hasn’t talked about him to anyone yet? So he can call the police and… tell the truth? The thought of having to talk about the bullying makes him shiver in revulsion but there’s no other way around it. He’ll have to tell the truth about hiding (but say that the door was open, he can pin that on her) and waiting for all his classmates to leave. He’ll tell them about seeing her with that boy and waiting even longer to leave. He’ll tell them that he was caught leaving and that she took the gun out and started spouting nonsense about monsters. He’ll tell them that he ran back to the rooftop when she was blocking the exit, hit her as she passed and somehow got the gun.

Which means that he has to check if the keys she used to enter are still in the door, because, unless she locked it behind her to close the escape route, he doubts that she waited to take the keys when she was in the middle of a pursuit and that would contradict his version of the events. Also… He shallows thickly. He has to get his prints on the gun.

He limps toward the door first, pointedly not looking at the body yet, and looks at the door. It’s closed. Just as he’s turning to go back to the body, Srindin comes back though the gap in a corner, clearly winded and panting from the effort.

“There are more of them!”

“What.”

“Quick, Aelfwine is distracting them! Hide!”

“They’ll catch me for sure if I hide here!” he whispers furiously, looking around fast, trying to get his still somewhat sluggish brain to cooperate. His panic rises and his adrenaline with it, which instantly fires him up. “Where are they?”

“We tried to get them to follow us to the other building but they caught on. Last time they were near the stairs on the end and coming here! We have to hide!”

“Just- Let me think!”

Stiles knows he’s running out of time. He can’t risk searching for the keys, leaving his prints all over the body, and, also, taking the stairs is the worst thing he could do because not only is Aelfwine leading the hunters on a merry chase on that level but at some point he's going to have to beat a hasty retreat and follow Srindin upstairs to escape them. If he tries hiding in the cranny from before, it will be suicide because that’s the first place they’re going to look if they have any brains at all.

He looks around himself, heart pounding and his eyes settle on the gun. Should he? He’s defenseless right now… He takes a couple of steps, closes his eyes and takes in a trembling breath. No, taking it would be the worst thing he could do. His dad is the sheriff and he hasn’t been able to erase the evidence. If they investigate this, he still can claim ignorance even after admitting to his presence on the rooftop. But leaving it loaded… but to unload it he has to touch it...

“Stiles, what are you doing?” Beriadan yells, prompting him into snapping out of it.

He has to leave it behind and pray that is the best decision. He turns his back to her.

Stiles can either remain here and die, or try his luck over the railing, trying to climb down to a level below. His ankle is not hurting horribly thanks to the painkiller and the headache has gone back to a manageable level, so he might even make it. He runs directly to the other side of the door and climbs over the railing, his breath stuttering at the height. He wraps his hands around the start of the drain to help himself climb down and goes for it.

“Foolish child!” Aelfdene hisses alarmed. "Are you out of-!"

“There’s no other-!”

“Tarnsin,” Aelfdene interrupts him, “make his feet stick to the wall to help him climb down. Put this array on the wall under his shoes and deactivate it when he needs to take another step, quick!” Not even a minute later, the points of Stiles’ shoes are stuck to the wall and the relief nearly makes his knees weak.

“Try to take big steps, Stiles. The less runes he has to place, the better,” Lorelle instructs, her voice so calm in the face of the storm that Stiles' frayed nerves soothe a bit.

Stiles nods and doesn’t let himself stop or doubt. His arms start shaking from the effort not long after he starts. He advances about half a meter, more out of sheer force of will and adrenaline, when he gets stuck. There’s a big separation between the drain and the window that doesn’t let him advance any more. If he lets go of the drain, he doesn't have anything to hold on to and Tarnsin is already stretching himself thin to keep up with sticking Stiles' feet to the wall. Srindin can fly too, but he's still winded, trying to recover from whatever happened to him after he left with Aelfwine, who hasn’t even returned yet.

He could keep descending, but he has no more time. When the hunters reach the rooftop they're going to find the door closed and assume whoever killed her is still there. If they look over the railing and down (and seeing as they hunt supernatural creatures that wouldn't be so strange) they'll see him easily in this darkness, because the moon's light is pretty bright today. He has to get to one of those windows.

Stiles' only chance is to not go any further, let himself hang from the drain and swing himself down to the windowsill. It isn't that far, with a good push he'll make it with no problems. The only tricky part is that he has to grab whatever he can to prevent himself from rebounding and falling to the ground below. And all of that without making any noise.

It's impossible.

He braces himself anyway, he can't waste any more time thinking. He has to act. He makes Tarnsin deactivate the runes and starts swinging himself. His arms are shaking and his grip is weak by now. His fingers slip before he’s ready, in the middle of the swing. He reaches blindly, his hands slapping deafeningly loud on the wall as he falls. He’s so terrified, his breath so caught in shock, that he can’t even scream. Then his hands are suddenly stuck to the wall and Srindin and Tarnsin are panting heavily, having rushed to place the runes to get him stuck. Stiles pants in terror, trying to get his body to stop trembling.

“Stiles,” Eglantine says, her voice soothing over the thundering in his ears. “Stiles, it’s ok, you’re ok. Come on, honey, it’s almost over. You can do it.”

Still shaking but knowing he can’t afford to stop now, Stiles looks downwards and finds nothing but a free fall. The easiest way would be to go down, but the next window is too small for Stiles to slip in (probably a toilet) and the next one is too far away. So up it is, because he has to hide the fastest he can and he can’t risk the two fairies running out of energy in the middle of the climb either, which would prove fatal for him.

Srindin and Tarnsin get to work again, one taking care of the runes of his feet while the other does the ones for the hands. Stiles startles when a phone starts ringing suddenly at the rooftop and he contains his breathing. The two fairies hide under him to conceal their rapidly diminishing glow. It takes them a moment to realize it’s Sterling’s phone and Stiles rushes to climb up as fast as his aching arms and trembling legs allow. His ankle is hurting fiercely by now but there’s nothing he can do about that. Beads of sweat are running down his face, his neck, his back.

The hunters make it to the rooftop at last, cursing up a storm. He hears them kicking the door open and calling for her. He forces himself to hasten his pace. Not even a minute later the cursing gets even angrier and he hears them moving, checking the rooftop.

There’s no sign of Aelfwine.

“Just a little bit more, honey,” Eglantine murmurs softly in his ear. “You can do it. I know you’re tired and I promise you can rest after you reach the window, ok? Look at that, you’re nearly there!”

When Stiles finally gets to the windowsill, he has to make a herculean effort to control his harsh breathing so that it doesn’t give him away. He plasters himself to the cool crystal of the window, but even he knows that he can’t rest yet, no matter how tired he is. Soon, but not yet. It’s unlocked, he tells himself, the window is unlocked. He’s going to be lucky on this, he thinks as he takes a shuddering breath. He reaches to test it and nearly sags with relief when it is unlocked. He pulls on the window painfully slow, desperate to make the gap big enough for him to slip inside as fast as possible but unable to just yank it open like he wants for fear of the noise alerting the hunters of his presence.

The two men are on the phone, but that’s as much as Stiles gets from their conversation, their voices too soft to understand anything. After what feels like an eternity, the gap is finally big enough and he slips inside. He recognizes the AV room, it’s the farthest one to the stairs, so they have to cross the whole floor to get to them to go downstairs. Before anything else, he gets everyone a secure place to stay inside the backpack without being squashed. Srindin and Tarnsin hide inside his hood, like Eglantine was doing. It takes a little convincing to get her to hide inside the bag too but she finally agrees.

“What about Aelfwine, we can’t leave without him,” Tarnsin says vehemently, echoed by Srindin.

“We’ll check all the floor as we get to the stairs. First, who can fly to the rooftop and see if the hunters are still there?”

“On it,” Tarnsin answers before going out the window.

While he waits for him to come back, Stiles takes off his shoes first and then checks the door, confirming it’s locked. Tarnsin hastily slips back inside and confirms that the hunters are still talking over the phone just by Sterling's body, so Stiles picks the lock and opens the door carefully. He gets out, heart in his throat, and closes the door behind him but doesn’t lock it again just in case. He creeps towards the stairs to the rooftop and lets Tarnsin and Srindin call softly to Aelfwine.

“He’s there,” Tarnsin says urgently, “He got stuck in the middle of the stairs because he can’t fly anymore.”

Stiles says mentally a big fuck it and quickly climbs up the stairs silently. Just as he spots Aelfwine, he hears the hunters coming back. He launches forward, grabs Aelfwine and then, hoping that the sound of his socked feet is deafened by the noise of their shoes, he runs the hell out of there, first down the stairs and then straight through the hallway. He makes it to the stairs at the far end, puts Aelfwine in his hood before he squeezes him to death out of nerves and listens silently. They’re still cursing down the hall and he breathes relieved.

He sprints down to the first floor, then into a classroom. He can’t hear anyone following him yet but that doesn’t mean anything with these people. He forces himself to be careful and not make a noise as he opens a window and then climbs through it to get outside. He’s even more careful as he leaves the school’s premises. When he’s finally three blocks over, he puts his shoes on again and then curses everything to hell and back as he prepares to half run, half walk home because his bicycle is who knows where.

(Damn the twins to hell, back and then again to hell, where the bastards rightfully belong. Stiles really, really, wants to make them pay.)

“Stiles,” Aelfwine calls and Stiles reaches for him. “I heard them talking on the phone.”

“What did they say?” Stiles asks as he ducks behind a dumpster at the sound of a passing car. By now he’s limping heavily, even after having taken the painkiller. The wonderful smell of rotten egg coming from somewhere inside the dumpster doesn’t help him one bit.

“They’re going to take care of the body and all the evidence themselves.”

“What? Why? That doesn’t make any sense,” Stiles protests, shocked but still whispering. Out of all the possible outcomes, he never expected something like that. He starts crawling from behind the dumpster but aborts at the sound of another vehicle that turns out to be a patrol car.

“From what I understood, the boy is a werewolf... Well, they called him mutt so I'm assuming that's what they were alluding to, in any case. Anyways, apparently he's part of the pack in this territory, and that pack is an old one that has never caused any problems. The Tribunal knows that they control the territory well and take care of any threats themselves, so they shouldn’t even be here.”

“Still, it doesn’t make any sense. If they pinned this on them, that would actually give them the excuse to do what they want without anyone accusing them of breaking the code. Sterling was hunting something,” Stiles grunts, explaining quickly what he saw her attempting to do as he pushes himself up after the car disappears around the corner.

“One of them did suggest using what happened, but then they’d have to explain what one of their hunters was doing with a fake identity and teaching at the school where most of the pack kids study.”

Stiles feels sick for a moment, remembering that boy with Sterling and what approach she was taking. If there are other kids, has she been doing the same with them? Or maybe she tried and tried until she hit the jackpot with that boy? How far would have she gotten if Stiles hadn't...?

He swallows, trying to force the bile down and forces himself to concentrate on the now. He’s alive, all the fairies are alive, he reminds himself as he creeps around and hides at the smallest noise. His house, his shower, his bed, everything is a breath away, he just has to endure it for a little bit more.

And he does just that.

The trek back home takes him nearly an hour and he barely can walk straight anymore halfway through it. His dad’s cruiser isn’t in the driveway yet when he makes it home and, for once, he’s happy about that because he doesn’t have to sneak in. He’s careful, of course, but once he’s hidden from view, he just opens the door and slips inside. He doesn’t turn on the lights until he’s in his room and has the blinds down.

The kids’ hugs are like a balm to his soul and he nearly falls asleep on the chair the moment he sits on it after helping everyone else but the elders into the terrarium.

“Stiles,” Lorelle says, looking ten times her age, just like Aelfdene and like everyone that has lived through tonight’s events, “we need to contact the alpha now.”

“If what you and Aelfwine have told us is right, that boy she was hunting was a werewolf,” Aelfdene adds, somber. “They may assume that the pack did it or use it as an excuse to retaliate, even if they’re covering it now.���

Stiles rubs his face tiredly, vision swimming and one hundred percent done with everything.

“Do you even know who is the alpha of the pack?” he asks after taking a fortifying breath.

“Sadly, no. When we came here following your magic, we were too weak to do anything. And with the huntress at large, we couldn’t risk giving ourselves away searching to inform the alpha of our presence. Only our king and queen knew who it was and... they didn't get to share the knowledge.”

Of course it wouldn’t be so easy. He feels like weeping his heart out and he can’t remember having ever cried since a while before his mom died.

Just one more push, he thinks. Just one.

“I need… I need a moment.”

Stiles can barely see straight by now. He rubs his eyes again, gets up and limps downstairs to wash his face with water straight from the bottle inside the fridge, hoping that the cold will help him keep awake now that the adrenaline is long gone. Then he drinks as much as he can in one go. It doesn’t work miracles, but at least he’s not falling asleep upright. Then he prepares the fastest and most carb filled food he can think of off the bat (which happens to be a lot of pop tarts) and a teeth-rotting sugary drink before getting back to his room.

“Ok,” he says as he munches on the pop tarts, turning on his laptop. “I can check the yearbook and see if it rings any bells. And also… if several members of the pack attend the school, they’ll share the same last name, right? Or most of them will in any case.”

“Unless the kid was adopted into the pack, they should.”

“Let’s hope it’s like that,” he sighs and, before even checking the yearbook, he searches on the school’s student database for kids sharing the same last name. While the search runs he keeps talking to help himself remain awake. “What happened to me? How did you know something was wrong?”

Lorelle takes a moment to answer, but not as if she’s trying to choose her words to hide something from Stiles. She makes a couple of aborted starts before she seems to find a way to explain things. “Do you recall what we explained to you about how your magic beckoned us?” Stiles nods. “And how our numbers make us weak right now and sometimes we use you as a support, like Eglantine did when you went to search for the kids?” Stiles nods again. “As we told you, your magic is still active on the terrarium and at the moment we use a small part of that magic to help us maintain the wards around it.” Stiles makes a humming noise. “Around nearly seven this afternoon, your magic wavered and it thinned so much and so abruptly that we had to take down the wards for fear of it breaking completely. We knew something was wrong and then we called your phone and you didn't pick up.”

Stiles startles, finally noticing that he can still spy the dull glow of the exhausted fairies and the bright one of the kids across the crystal when normally he can’t see a thing. He swallows around his mouthful. There are six missed calls on his phone. All done in the space of not even three minutes. “And… you came for me?”

“You came for us,” Aelfdene answers gruffly and looking as if admitting this tastes sour in his mouth. “And in more ways than one so we're in your debt.”

Stiles clears his throat feeling incredibly uncomfortable. “But why all of you? You didn’t need…”

“In our state right at this moment, it was all of us or none, or we wouldn’t make the trip there,” Lorelle answers, leaving clear with her expression that none was not an option. “Eglantine remembered the way.”

“We made it there and tracked you.” Aelfdene continues with a weary sigh. “We’re connected and you were still using your magic,” Stiles looks at the rune shaped burns on his wrist with his lips pursed. “so it wasn’t that difficult. However, that woman caught the tail of our group and we had to divide and distract her while the rest of us got to you. You were unconscious and we couldn’t even hear you breathing. Beriadan found the runes on you and we pushed our magic into you until you recovered enough energy to regain consciousness and deactivate the array, because we couldn’t do that for you.”

“It goes both ways,” Lorelle explains at Stiles’ confused expression. “You share with us, and we do the same. We are symbiotic,” she sighs ruefully, “or in normal circumstances we would be. Regretfully, right now we are taking more than we are giving.” She clears her throat and thanks Kendel distractedly when the kid appears with some food and water for them. “In any case, what happened is that you activated one of your arrays (and let me tell you, I haven’t seen that one before) and maybe in your panic at nearly getting caught, you pushed too much energy into it and during more time than you could handle.”

“But you said that if you push more or less than the energy necessary to activate an array it collapses!” Stiles protests, confused.

“We said that happens with fairy rune magic. Do remember that we were sure that your spark would act differently,” Aelfdene explains long-suffering.

“And as he said,” Lorelle adds, "the array you used is not one of ours. Entity, sound, void. We’ve never used that combination.“

"What was different, though?” Aelfdene asks frowning, as if he can't help himself. Over the last few weeks, Stiles has gotten to know him a bit even though the elder has tried to keep their interactions minimal. It took a while to understand that it's not that he hates Stiles per se, it's that after what happened to them, he doesn't trust humans. Having to trust Stiles because he has no other choice rankles him. “Beriadan says that you tried that one here already and it didn’t work. What else was in those papers? When that huntress shot you, you activated something from there that made them burn.”

Stiles rakes his mind, but for the life of him he can’t remember what else he scribbled on them that could deflect a bullet. He looks at his wrist, but the mark is almost gone. He blinks surprised and rubs what remains of it, but it doesn't even twinge. He files that little tidbit to go back to it later and focuses on more important things. What was he thinking when his magic worked, though? What was he doing? Because the only thing he remembers was being panicked about getting caught and repeating that it was impossible he was heard. And with the bullet, it was actually the opposite, he was numb, not feeling anything but convinced…

“Conviction,” he murmurs, skeptical to a certain degree. He fights a yawn before he continues speaking. “I was convinced that I couldn’t be heard and then I was convinced that I couldn’t be hurt.”

Could that be? When he tries to activate a fairy array, he knows he has magic and that the array is a valid one, so he’s convinced about that… but is he convinced about obtaining the intended result? He has to explore this more.

Tomorrow.

After sleeping all Saturday away…

Which he can’t do until he finds the alpha and sorts this whole debacle.

Dammit.

He forces his attention back to the search still running on his laptop. After he has the names, he loads the yearbook and focuses on the years around the age he assumes that boy to be and bingo, he gets lucky about ten minutes later.

“I hate everything right now,” he whines rubbing his face, deeply frustrated. He really wants to get into bed and forget about everything, but he knows he wouldn’t forgive himself if anything happened. He gets up with a groan and reaches inside the terrarium to fish out his burner phone. He stares at it for a moment after he sits again.

He has the name of the boy that was with Sterling (one Ben Wilcox) and finding out his phone number and address is easy. Now what?

Ben Wilcox is a supernatural or connected to them, that's for sure, because if not, Sterling wouldn't have targeted him. However, assuming that the rest of his family is too may be too big of an assumption to make and it can cost Stiles dearly. Because if Ben was bitten and assimilated into the pack, his family may not be in the know and either this will force the teen to out himself or the family member that picks up the call may think Stiles is either a lunatic, a prankster or a bully and hang up, closing that venue of communication with his only lead to the pack entirely until school tomorrow. Because, let's face it, Stiles is not only in no condition to brave the night in search of Ben Wilcox's house but also he hasn't the means to do so, even if it's only about three kilometers away.

It's late, but not so late that calling them will raise any suspicion if Ben's family isn't in the know, so if he's going to do it this way, it has to be now. He just hopes that Ben isn't a lovesick puppy that won't listen to him out of principle. Stiles is really unsure about how to broach the subject too and his exhaustion isn't helping his brain think up how to do it in the slightest. How can he say: hey, your paedophile prospect of a girlfriend was in reality a huntress that was trying to trick you so she could kill you and most likely your whole family, but don't you worry, I killed her instead when she was trying to put a bullet in my head; just calling to give you the heads-up, just in case?

That can't go wrong at all, really.

Stiles sighs and rubs his forehead tiredly. Lorelle and Aelfdene are looking at him expectantly and he sighs again, dialling the number.

"Hello?" a girl (Lisa, his mind supplies helpfully) answers through the receiver.

"Hi!" he chirps faux happily, hoping that his voice being obviously a kid's helps his chances of being passed through without raising any suspicions, even though he knows he sounds much younger than Ben. "Can I talk to Ben?"

"Give me a second," she replies before shouting for him loudly.

He waits with bated breath, going over and over the options in his head, thinking about how to say it, how to avoid Ben hanging up on him, how to talk to the alpha, how...

Then he starts hearing the screams.

---

Some love pretty please?

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