#so that fear of handing something in after 3 years of basically only writing lab reports is kind fading

[pinkieroy]

I have an idea for a fic but so little confidence in my writing abilities

[feel-mobile]

It could just be because I'm sick and a bit out of it as a result, but the courage has kicked in now. I know this would be better drawn, but like I said before, my hand is hurt. Even writing this hurts. It sucks. One day you'll get those drawings.

We've seen swap AUs for other games. We've seen AUs for Maligula Raz for this game. So my AU is both of these.

It focuses mainly on swapping the roles of the Psychic 7 and the Interns. I thought it was a fun coincidence that there were seven of each of them. Other swaps are the agents and other adults are now campers, and vice verse. Even Mr. Pokeylope and Linda swap

The only swap I haven't figured out yet is whatever is going on with Gristol. I'll get there when I get there.

The basic plot doesn't change much, but there are many changed details. For example, the interns (by that i mean the ones who are interns in this au, not canon) are a lot more involved in the story, up to going to Green Needle Gulch. Why? Because I said so. And it's not an actual game so I can have other characters be present in "levels."

Lucrecia Galochio is the main character, she's the one who ran away to Whispering Rock. She's a bit old to be a camper (she's 14), so instead she gets to hang out with the two counselors in training until her mom comes to pick her up. Those two are Ford and Otto! The whole brain stealing incident happens, resulting in the brains of the campers Sasha, Milla, Morry, Callie, Hollis, Truman, Boyd, Edgar, Penelope, Fred, and Gloria [1] getting stolen.

Lucy, Ford, and Otto come up with a plan to get the camper's brains back, but before they can do much, Otto's brain gets stolen and Ford gets kidnapped by a giant, mutated turtle and its up to Lucy to save him and everyone else, with the help of Agent Norma Natividad, whose in a secret sanctuary underneath the camp.

And that's the first games plot- moving onto the second, Lucy's now at the Motherlobe after rescuing the Grand Head of the Psychonauts, Lili Zanotto. But there's news that people may be trying to bring back the genocidal psychic known as... Razigula- IT'S A PLACEHOLDER NAME UNTIL I THINK OF SOMETHING BETTER!

That's where Lucy meets the other interns- Cassie, Compton, Bob, and Helmut. Ford and Otto are already friends with them, they're interning there at the same time as being CITs at the camp. So there is no hazing or whatever. They're friends now.

The Psychic 6, the founders of the Psychonauts can be found around. Some of them at least. There's Norma Natividad, who Lucy already knows, Adam Joseph Gette, who still works there not quite as the Grand Head, but still in charge of a lot, and there's Morris Martinez who runs a radio station (in the place of Otto's lab from canon). But there's also Lizzie Natividad and Sam Boole, both of them having left the Motherlobe years ago. And finally, there's Gisu Nerumen, who was sadly lost in the Battle of Grulovia 20 years ago.

Eventually Lucy has to go on a mission given to her by Lili Zanotto, which leads to her finding out that Razigula used to be the Psychic 6's friend named Raz, and something bad happened [2]. She has to go into the mind of either Morris or Adam (i have not decided which) and a mystery brain that turns out to be Gisu. [3]

She also finds out the truth about her own family, that Raz is her grandfather and that Norma, out of guilt, friendship, fear, or maybe all three, had used the Astralaithe on him and his family. She runs out of the Motherlobe, Cassie seeing her and telling the others. After Norma talks to Lucy and they prepare to go to Green Needle Gulch, the other interns find Lucy. They ask her whats wrong, and considering this just happened and it doesn't cross her mind to keep this a secret, she tells them. Her friends promise they'll help her complete this mission, and tell Norma they're going together no matter what!

So that's how everyone ends up in GNG. Ford and Otto help open paths that lead to the remaining members of the Psychic 7, Lizzie[4] and Sam. Lizzie is okay with helping, but when she tries to leave, ice grows over the walls and the doors, trapping her inside. Lucy, Bob, and Helmut go into her mind to help. I have not decided whats up with Sam, but I do have a lot of her level planned out! I can go into more detail in another post. Lucy, Cassie, and Compton dive into her mind to help.

With the Astralaithe ready, Norma and Lucy prepare to go into Raz's mind. But Lucy gets dragged out by Lili, whose acting weird. Turns out Truman followed his mom here, and says she's acting really weird. Lucy decides that they need to go into her mind. Truman says he's coming too, that's his mom! Bob also wants to go, Lili is his aunt. And then all the kids end up going together. Yeah it's a little crowded, but I'll make it work.

Once again I have no clue what's going on with Gristol. But if the mind is like a theme park ride, everyone who goes in with Lucy shows up along the way in pairs to help her fix the ride and keep going. And then Truman gets to beat up whoever it is at the end.

After that, the whole flooding the Heptadome happens, and Lucy goes to fight Razigula after going to find her family. The interns, after escaping the flood, decide they'll help her. As scary as it seems, she is their friend. So they end up helping in the battle. I've got it all planned out- Helmut even ends up sacrificing himself to save Bob just like in canon. Of course the stakes are much lower this time.

So yeah- that's the basic outline. There's stuff like the Casino, the Galochios, and the Rhombus that I haven't mentioned, I can go into more detail later.

But I think the main thing I focus on so it isn't just a basic retelling are the characters. For example, like if it was a real game, Bob can be found at various places at various times, such as standing outside the elevator to Lili's office like "She's my aunt and I'm worried but I'm not allowed in there, am I?" and then next is with Truman trying to comfort him, and then finally can be found in the Questionable Area with Helmut trying to see what music plants like best [5]. This is the same for the other characters.

The other thing to focus on are the designs which I have in my head and will draw as soon as I can. I have a few old sketches but that's it.

There's a lot I'm still piecing together, like who takes Sasha and Milla's role (Dogen and someone else), but I'm working on it!! I have a lot of unmentioned little details planned too, but if I included everything in one post it would get to be too long.

So yeah! That's the au! Cliche, but I call it PsychoSwap for now. If anyone wants to talk about it, my askbox is open. At least it should be open. I hope I didn't forget.

[1] In canon, I think only Boyd and Edgar are psychic, but I needed more campers so I added Fred and Gloria in. Also in case it wasn't known, Penelope is Sheegor's real name!

[2]Lili was involved. She wasn't at the Battle, which is something she's regretted for years since now she thinks Raz is dead. It's really hard to mash up the different generations and I tried to make Lili and Raz knowing each other and dating work.

[3]Gisu's level is also something I have a lot planned. Her design is the only complete design besides the intern's designs. She isn't a ball of light, she's like a spark of electricity when Lucy first enters her mind. Also instead of "wanna bet, helmut?" it's "is that true, gisu?". The whole vibe is gonna be a dark space that gets lit up by rails of light as more and more progress is made. A lot of rail grinding in this level. The only thing I haven't decided on is what the senses will be represented by. Not to copy from canon but she is getting all her senses back literally.

[4]Forgot to mention, but Lizzie is the dreaded Ice Witch of the Forgetful Forest with all of her bloodthirsty familiars that Lucy hears about from Otto. Otto actually thinks its just a story, but both of them end up encountering her and getting scared shitless.

[5]I have a lot planned for these two. Maybe because they're my favorite characters.

[daydreamed-snippets]

hello! i absolutely adored your addition to gingerly’s prompt ask :) i was wondering if you could continue it, and no worries if you can’t! thanks <3

I realize the more I write this the longer it’s getting. I probably have imagined six parts or more???? I have other WIPs that need attention, but I am so, so, so, so thankful that you like the first part of my prompt response to @gingerly-writing I’m going to post this and then part 3 hopefully tomorrow 👀 👀 👀 👀Maybe??? then take a small break to post some other stuff. Lol this is a continuation I didn’t really plan for, but am definitely excited about!!

@chibicelloking @lolafaiy

Part One Here

A dull thrum of voices stirred sidekick out of surly drowsiness. The articulation of words was muddied, coming across as garble before snapping into clarity the more they roused. There was “monitor vitals”, “recommended range”, “even by a fraction” that registered in the back of their mind. Teammates must be running some tests again.

But they couldn’t move. Not a muscle. They weren’t paralyzed, they were just restrained. Which was odd because that wasn’t—

They felt the string back around their neck again. That feeling of dread rustled, usually abating when they returned to headquarters and the familiarity of their bunk. Memories came no longer concealed by lethargy. Of the teammates being pinned down by supervillain. Of their oh-so-brave self-sacrifice. Of teammates using The Machine to pry open a portal. Of sidekick losing consciousness in supervillain’s arms. 

Sidekick held their breath, letting out a quiet moan. It didn’t work, did it? Teammates didn’t make it to that sewer way after supervillain choked them into unconsciousness. And if they did, they were unable to save sidekick. They were captured.

So what now? 

Policy would have them stay mute. To be uncooperative. To trumpet bravado and bare their teeth. 

Policy would have their self-sacrifice complete its course to martyrdom. 

Feeling their sinew stretch to uncomfortable lengths, the sidekick’s mind fortified itself, resolved to do their due diligence. They could die for the cause. They were trained to do so. Engrained by doctrine, encouraged parables of valor, and promises of glory. They weren’t a hero, yes, but they’d surely get a hero’s burial. A hero’s honor, and admittance to the halls of the nobly fallen. After all, it was promised to those slain for the cause. 

Noting how their wrists were held high above their head and were bound together, sidekick tensed their muscles against the wire to test how well it held their arms, chest, hips, and legs still. They were hanging in midair, everything was drawn taut, everything perfectly balanced so that the threads bowed them back like a rag doll on display; fraying and terribly exposed. 

At least it didn’t cut their skin this time.

The easy solution: they could mount a daring escape by making a portal around themselves. No on second thought due to calculation risks, they could make approximately 47 mini portals, severing the strings. Then once they got a better gauge of the room, they could make one large enough for them to drop through. They doubted they would be able to go far, maybe outside this room after they opened their eyes and calculated the circumference of it. Their weakness lies in the fact that not knowing where they were meant they were limited in where they could go. Power hinging on all of the maps in their head. If they could just see it on the map then they could calculate the needed trajectory and portal to it. 

But they had neither the time nor the luxury for that now.

Taking all 47 at a time, sidekick opened dime-size portals an inch above where the wires met their skin. Calculations playing in the background of their psyche. They had to be precise—they must have caution or risk searing flesh from bone. Wire fractured and cracked in midair, and sidekick dropped a small length, feet hitting the floor, knees buckling. 

They barely had a second to get up.

A shrill alarm, jarring, and ear-splitting sounded. 

Fire followed, blazing across their skin, only somehow from the inside radiating out, originating from their neck, and spiraling down. They writhed under the voltaic ministrations, convulsing until it ceased, finally falling limp.

Someone came to stand before them, and sidekick considered the familiar boots warily before flicking their gaze up, proximity kick-starting their heartbeat. And it ran wild. Supervillain settled before them, appearing polished, normal costume hidden under a button-up shirt loosely tucked into a pair of trousers. A light pea coat pulled the ensemble together. Their expression, however, looked like they were ready to pounce, eyes veiled behind a tight expression.

“Perfect. You’re awake.”

Should sidekick go for bravado, or would a more fearful submissive approach best serve them, now that their escape attempt has failed? Unsure, sidekick opted for a mix of both, figuring, at any rate, the body count associated with supervillain alone would suggest that they tread carefully. “Wh-what did you do to me? My teammates—”

“Your teammates don’t know where you are, and it’s going to stay that way for a while." They crouched agilely, a panther before a frightened yearling, tucking a finger under their chin to hold their complete attention. "I would advise against doing anything that would jeopardize your standing with me, puppy. Like trying to use your power to escape. I am not what one would call longsuffering. I may have shown you a smidgen of my mercy but don’t expect it to be par for the course." Supervillain motioned to the room with a nod. "If you’re wondering where you are, may I present to you my humble garrison. This is the medical wing, with medic and assistant behind me. We’ve removed the association’s tracking device, and replaced it with something far more fetching.”

Trailing a thumb down their neck, supervillain fiddled with the band around their throat, a neatly fitted collar. How did sidekick not notice that? It felt not much different from supervillain’s wires—something foreign and constricting. Ears burning, their face paled, sweat lining their brow. If this could get worse or more humiliating, they weren’t sure how. 

Threading a finger through the ring, supervillain wrenched sidekick off the ground, onto their hands and knees like a true dog. 

A strangled mewl tore from the sidekick’s throat. 

“You do get the gist of this, don’t you, darling? You’re a clever one. Make a portal without my direct order, and this device will give you an electric shock that will render you immobile at best, unconscious at worst.” Their shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “And it hurts like hell, or so I’m told so that should be incentive enough.”

Oh no. 

This was worse. 

So much worse than anything sidekick had endured at the Hero’s Association. Ignoring their basic human needs, ok. They can handle that. Belittling them, playing passive-aggressive games? Cool, cool, cool, cool. The occasional punishment? Everyone endures the intermittent blow or two. Suck it up, sidekick. But humiliation like this? They wanted to crawl under a rock and never be seen again. 

“Y-you,” they stammered, dread churning, turning into something they hadn’t felt in a while. Rage. “You, you, you jerk!”

“You jerk?” supervillain echoed a deep chuckle. “Dear lord, you know you should be thanking me, my very young and inventive labradoodle. One, for not taking your life as I had wanted. Two, for not ringing out your delicate neck despite that little stunt just now. And, three for rescuing you from such neglectful owners—” 

“I will never thank you for that!”

Silence filled the room, allowing the mechanical hum of lab equipment to permeate. Medic and assistant tossed glances at each other over supervillain's shoulder, as a shadow passed over supervillain’s face. That thumb returned to sidekick’s lips, the latter’s breath catching at their misstep. “You said they.”

“W-what?”

“When you spoke about your teammates, and how they’ve been fighting me all of these years. You said they. Not we’ve been fighting, but they. You haven’t used a single possessive pronoun when speaking about the six of you—or anyone in the association for that matter.” 

No. No, sidekick didn’t mean it like that. They belonged. They were a team. They are a team.

“You keep them separate from yourself,” the supervillain continued, stoking their cheek absently. “Whether consciously or unconsciously, you do. From the short time I discovered that it was a person and not a machine behind the Hero’s Association’s success, I’ve learned this: your ideals are of self-immolation. You offer yourself up as a lamb for your teammate’s success; for the association’s success. You foolishly stare down your enemy in hopes for what? Recognition? Adoration? That’s clearly not working, is it? I simply called you a dazzling diamond in the ruff, and you flushed like someone newly in love.” That tone was back. A wanton timbre for power, and sidekick face colored on command. They brought their hand up to hide it. “Your actions are like a puppy: young and misguided. Training will fix it.”

Throwing them a salacious grin, supervillain called another thread to their hand and knotted it around sidekick's collar ring. Easing off of their haunches, they stood, the wire going slack. “I will delve into these mysteries soon enough. Just as you will come to discover, in due time, that you are much better off with me than against me.”

Sidekick blood boiled, finally at the tipping point. 

They saw red. 

Supervillain thought they knew them? Thought that they were such an open book? Palms fisting, sidekick wanted very much to strike out at the supervillain. To wipe that knowing looking off their face. A feat, they realized, that could accomplish with words. And something this time with more punch than ‘jerk’. Screaming, they let out an uncharacteristic string of curses; ones they’d heard in passing, ones that had even been directed at them. Being a human gateway didn’t afford them many friends their own age or otherwise, and the other heroes were quick to ruffle their hair, and blame them for mishaps than befriend them.

Supervillain didn’t move. Even to tighten the leash. 

But medic spoke out. 

“Eh, yo, villy, your puppy be barking at you. Want me to shut them up?” Their crisp white coat stood in neat contract to their rich skin; voice speaking of hardship and closely won battles. Finger hovering over their datapad.

“Give it a minute,” supervillain said, as sidekick let out one last cry, fists hitting the cold tile, utterly spent. They bent over, muscles quivering in release. “See, it wasn’t necessary, medic. This particular breed responds to a more patient touch.”

“All that patient touch and you gon’ be wondering why you got missing fingers. Look, I don’t know about pets, but, this seems real sus.”

“Good thing you’re not in charge of them.”

“I guess, tho, I just be saying,” they let out a sigh, shaking their head, returning their attention to a beeping screen. “You know how much I love them pathetic animals.” Medic shot a look at sidekick, as their eyes bounced between the two, mouthing I don’t, and slid their thumb across their neck when supervillain wasn’t looking. 

Sidekick almost whimpered. 

Supervillain flexed their hands, fingers gracefully dancing as wires loosened from the ceiling, fell in a heap on the ground then receded altogether, sheltering in the supervillain’s pea coat. Only the one wire connected to their collar remained visible, wrapping itself around the supervillain’s wrist that. Like a bracelet, they tucked it away in their sleeve, then opted to move rather than command sidekick to heel. 

Lurching forward, sidekick had no choice but to follow. 

[the-bau-quinjet]

Memories, Pt. III

Summary: You were captured by Hydra. What did they do to your memories?

Warnings: mentions of violence, panic attacks, torture

Word Count: 1968

a/n: Part 3!! Honestly, I feel like this series could've been a one shot, but I wasn't feeling inspired to write the whole thing at once and I knew I would finish it if I posted part of it because I would stress about people wanting the next part 🙃

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

3 Years Ago

Bucky could only be described as a ball of nerves when you walked into the room. It felt like his brain shut off.

He had spent the last thirty minutes practicing what he was going to say to you when you arrived for your weekly movie night. Basically, it boiled down to six simple words: I'm falling in love with you.

Despite Steve, and a slightly out of character Sam, ensuring him that you felt the same, he was still skeptical. Why would you choose him when you could get any guy, or girl for that matter?

As he nervously stared at you, he could see your lips moving, but no sound could be registered above his own internal panic.

He didn't fully comprehend you had even said anything until he registered the panic on your face. Suddenly, his own thoughts disappeared.

"Oh no. No, no, no. I'm so sorry. You obviously don't feel the same. I'm just gonna go! I'll, uh, I'll see you later." You tried running out of the room, but Bucky was too quick.

"Huh? I don't feel what?" He was completely stunned that he had gotten so worked up in his own nerves that he missed what you said. He was supposed to be trained in observing people. He should be able to multitask, especially when one task is completely within his own mind.

"Bucky, really it's okay. I'll be fine. We'll be fine! I just, I need a minute... or a few to-"

"Y/N, doll, I'm so sorry." He sputtered as tears pooled in your eyes. What the hell did he miss? "I didn't hear a word you said."

"You... what? Why not?" The tears continued to pool as you did your best to hold them back for when you were alone in your room.

Bucky took a deep breath before he began talking faster than you'd ever heard him speak before.

"I'm falling in love with you." You honestly stopped breathing for a minute. "I was trying to think of how to tell you. That's why I didn't hear you. Steve convinced me that I should tell you. Sam a little bit too honestly. They kept saying it wasn't healthy to keep it all bottled up. And, I mean, I just-"

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his eagerly. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, soft smiles growing into wholeheartedly happy grins.

"You're an idiot." You chuckled, pressing your forehead to his. "That's what I said when you so graciously ignored me."

"I- You what?" Bucky's jaw dropped.

"I'm falling in love with you too."

-

Present

Waking up in Bucky's arms felt right. There was no other way to put it. His presence had a soothing effect unparalleled by anything you had ever felt before.

His face was relaxed, a slight smile pulling on his lips. You brushed his hair out of his face, slowly rubbing your thumb along his cheek and down his jaw.

A familiar ball of guilt grew in your stomach as you cuddled closer to his body. It may have only been two days since you woke up, but this group of heroes quickly found a place in your heart, almost like they'd been there all along. Lying to them about your past was gnawing on your heart, slowly breaking down your resolve.

You carefully removed yourself from his embrace, softly closing the door to your bedroom as you left. You knew he would want to talk about last night, and you just weren't ready for that. Not yet.

You wandered the halls until, three dead ends later, you eventually made it to the kitchen. Much to your relief, the common area was empty. You had just enough time to calm your internal panic about what food you could eat when Natasha walked in.

"I'm about to make a smoothie, want one?" She offered, much to your delight.

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you." The level of sincerity of your words caught her mildly off guard, not that you or anyone would have been able to tell.

"So, how are you feeling?" She questioned lightly, hiding her skepticism at your odd behavior. Call her a pessimist, but 3 months with Hydra and you're relatively fine? It doesn't quite add up.

"Oh, um, okay I guess. I feel like my brain is all jumbled." You settled for half truths again, knowing she would easily spot a total lie.

"Right, well that's to be expected after a few months with Hydra. You said they kept you in that room the whole time?" She kept her tone light, trying to empathize with everything you went through.

"Um, yeah... I-" You grabbed your head as memories flashed through your mind. You were in a room, it looked like a lab but it was dark and grimy. People surrounded you, but you couldn't understand what they were saying.

They poked and prodded at you, forcing you to lay down as they strapped you into a metal chair.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" She rushed to you, smoothie forgotten in the blender as you screamed, remembering the pain you felt in that chair. You didn't even realize you were muttering under your breath.

Her voice drew you back to the present. You abruptly stood up, backing into a corner as you glanced around the room.

Slowly, the past two days came back to you. Flashes of memories, old and new mixed together in your head, all out of order.

You were in the Avengers compound.

Your were buried in rubble, people screaming and crying surrounded you.

They thought you were one of them.

You were being arrested, locked in the room where Bucky found you.

They didn't know the truth.

"Y/N?" Nat questioned again, slowly moving toward you.

"I'm fine. I, uh, I'm okay." You took deep breaths, slowly calming all your nerves.

"What happened?" She pulled you out of the corner, leading you back to the island for your smoothie.

"I, um, I was back there." You stuttered, trying to make sense of the image. "But, it was different. A different room." You were too shaken to think about what could happen from sharing this new development.

"A different room? What did it look like?" Nat was eager to hear more. If you didn't remember everything from your three months there, maybe they did something to you, and that's why you've been acting weird.

"It looked, it looked like a basement. It was dark and grimy." You left out the part about the lab equipment. "I, um, I think I'm gonna go on a walk. Just to clear my head a little bit."

You left before she could respond, smoothie untouched on the counter.

-

When you returned from the walk, you could hear Nat talking to Steve and Wanda in the kitchen.

"I'm telling you, they must have done something to her. She's not acting right." Nat was firm, steadfast in her belief that Hydra wouldn't have kept you there without trying something.

You're heart rate spiked at her words, nervousness overcoming your body. They were going to figure it out.

"Nat, she just came back from three months of torture. Of course she's gonna act a bit different. She needs time to adjust back to her regular life." Wanda replied, figuring Nat was just a little too paranoid.

"You didn't see her in the kitchen! Wan, she freaked out. She looked terrified. She was muttering something about experiments. What if they messed with her head?" Nat rebuked, still trying to convince them.

"I mean, I guess it's possible?" Steve stated, clearly unconvinced but open to the idea. "She hasn't been acting that off though, not when you take into account what Wanda said."

"Steve, she hasn't told Bucky she loves him. That would've been the first thing out of her mouth if she was herself." Nat settled him with a glare, knowing her point was made.

You panicked. If they figured out you weren't who they thought you were, what would they do to you? Before you registered your own movements, you were running.

You made a break for the elevator, twisting and turning through the halls in what you hoped was the right direction.

Just as you turned the last corner, you ran right into something- no someone.

"Where's the fi-" Tony started to joke, but after taking in your expression stopped mid-sentence. "Whoa, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" You replied far too quickly, trying to squeeze past him.

"Y/N, wait." He grabbed your arm, preventing you from getting away. "Talk to me, kid. What's going on up there?" He gestured to your head.

"Really, it's nothing." You wiped a tear from your face, knowing it wasn't helping your case. "I have to go."

"Nope. I'm not gonna let you bottle this all up. You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong. Come on." He pulled you into the elevator, leading you to the lab.

Once he had you sat on the window seat in the back, he asked again. "Tell me what's got you this upset. You know we're all here for you, right?"

You couldn't take it anymore. They were all being so nice, and you were lying right to their faces.

"I'm not who you think I am." You barely whispered the words, overcome with a mixture of guilt and self pity. "I don't belong here." You refused to make eye contact until Tony lifted your head to meet his eye.

"Y/N, you probably belong here more than anyone else, except maybe Steve, but he doesn't count." He tried to lighten the mood, earning an attempt at a small smile from you.

"I really don't. I'm not a hero. I'm a murderer." You cried as you finally admitted the truth. The relief you felt was instantly weighed down by fear at what would happen next.

"What are you talking about?" Tony was clearly confused by your admission. "Y/N, your not a murderer."

"I'm not an Avenger." You moved your hands to cover your face, knowing you weren't strong enough to admit this to his face. "I wasn't in that room for three months, it was three years!" You missed the way his brow furrowed deeper in confusion as you continued to rant. "i don't know why you all think I'm some hero. Nobody was supposed to rescue me. I was in prison. I'm a killer."

You took a shaky breath, as you kept going. "I was in that room because I made a bomb that killed 38 people. I- It was accident, I swear! I didn't mean to hurt anyone... I- I think?" You started questioning yourself as memories flickered through your head.

"It's all fuzzy." You desperately shook your head, trying to make everything clear.

"It wasn't supposed to blow up! It was supposed to absorb energy and convert it into power, but it didn't work." You were nearly sobbing, picturing the people you injured and killed. "It exploded and people died! It was all my fault."

Your breathing quickened again, anxiety at admitting what you had done mixed with the guilt of lying to the only people who have ever shown you kindness causing the panic to set in again.

"Hey, hey! Look at me. You're okay. We're gonna fix this. You're not a killer, Y/N." Tony held your face in his hands, speaking firmly but not without compassion.

"Yes, I am!" You shouted at him, causing him to stumble backwards. "I don't know why you all think I'm someone I'm not, but it's true. I don't-" Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to get the words out.

You managed a mumbled, "I don't belong here." Before you passed out.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

Memories tagist:

@otherglowcloud @dontxfearxthereaper

[arashikitten]

“I am Danny Phantom”

Who knew that four words were all it took to turn someone’s entire life on its head? Well, Valerie knew, her father being fired and her subsequently being dropped by the A-listers proved that, but....

Danny Fenton. The small, quiet, funny, space-obsessed, sleep-deprived, nervous guy who slept in class, made puns out of everything, her boyfriend... was Phantom. The ghost who had ruined her life, who was a menace to the town, who had committed several crimes including kidnapping the mayor. They were the same person.

Her suit was on before she could blink, guns powering up and aimed at Phantom- Fenton- Danny.

“One reason. Give me one. Goddamned. Reason why I shouldn’t put a hole in your head.” Everything was red. She felt nothing but the blood in her veins turning into fire, only heard the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. It would be so, so easy to turn this... this monster into a pile of ectoplasm. All it would take was one little blast...

“Because it was an accident.”

Silence. It rang in her ears like a gunshot, quieting the pounding of her heart like the forest before the storm. Where her anger was once fiery red, now it was cold, calm blue, freezing everything in her path.

“What?” Her voice sounded flat, no hint of anger, and yet the ghost shuffled back slightly, wringing it’s... his hands nervously. (Somewhere in the back of her mind, a part of her recognized that was a habit of Fentons, that Danny- no, Fenton has been doing that earlier. Valerie shut that thought down before it reached farther into her head.)

“It was an accident. That ghost dog... Cujo, he- he was, um, looking for his- his toy because he’d been euthanized by Axion labs after they got the, uh, new security systems. He was just loking for his toy.”

“Then why were you there, spook?”

A pause. He was wringing his hands again. It caught her off guard slightly, how... human he looked. If you took away the glow and bright white hair, he could’ve easily passed as a normal highschooler. (That’s because he is human, part of her mind screeched at her. That’s your boyfriend for fucks sake, it said. Again, she shut it out.)

“I can sense them. The ghosts, I mean. Whenever one shows up, there’s this sort of... smoke, kinda, that I breathe. And that’s how I know if one’s around. So that night, when- when Cujo showed up, I sensed him and went to check it out. I never meant to get your father fired, or to- to fuck the place up as bad as I did. I’m sorry.”

Anger bubbled up in her again. He thought- he really fucking thought that a simple damned apology fixed that? Hell no! He’d screwed over her entire life, got her father fired, committed several crimes, and he thought a simple ass ‘I’m sorry’ would fix it?

She took aim, charging up her blasters.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. You’re a ghost, a crook, and a thief. And I’ll be doing the whole world a favor by getting rid of you.”

Her blasters were charged up. All it would take now was for her to-

“Then do it.”

Valerie almost dropped her blaster. Had- had she heard that right? She stared at Phantom.

He was rooted to the spot, arms down by his sides, eyes scrunched shut. He was still in his ghost form, but he wasn’t levitating.

What in the hell?

“What do you mean ‘then do it’?” You’re not- you’re not even gonna try to fly off?”

“No.”

“Why?”

At that, Danny- no, Phantom opened his eyes. He looked, scared. Sad. Like he had seen a massacre, or a war.

“A couple of weeks ago... when- when we were about to take the CAT... I- well I got the answer key to the test. And... I wasn’t in a great place, mentally, at the time. I mean, I’m still not, but... it was different, in a way. But basically, what, well, what happened was that I was so stressed out, because I was trying to protect the town and my friends from ghosts, and my parents were just getting worse about trying to hunt me down, and my grades are already shit, and Mr. Lancer kept saying that this test would determine my future and I just...” Danny stopped, shaking and hugging himself. He looked.... Valerie didn’t think she’d ever seen him look this distraught, as Phantom or Fenton. It made something in her chest tighten, made her stomach twist.

“I... I had the answers. And I was already so worried about... well, everything, that I decided to cheat. I figured that maybe I could just do it one time, and then that’d be it, you know? But... of course, of course, it couldn’t be that simple.” Now he sounded... tired. Worn, and not in a good way, more like a war veteran disallusioned with the world. (Something in Valerie told her that maybe this was the real Danny, the part of him he refused to show anyone. The tired fighter who wanted nothing more than to be able to go to sleep without worrying if he was going to wake up with a gun pointed at him.. or if he would wake up at all.)

“Essentially what happened was that Sam, Tucker and I got sort of... teleported about ten years into the future, and... apparently me cheating on one stupid test leads to the end of the world, because Mr. Lancer would find out that I had cheated and would call a meeting with my parents at the Nasty Burger, which would then blow up and kill my friends and family.” Danny was shaking now, arms wrapped around himself as though he was trying to protect himself from his own words.

“That, in turn, lead to me tearing the ghost part out of me, which then proceeded to fuse with Vla- the Wisconsin Ghost. When- well, when that happened, it- drove my ghost half.... I-insane. And then he was killing people all over and... and I- I killed people in that timeline! I did the- the one thing I said I would never fucking do, and I killed someone.”

Danny was on his knees now, quietly sobbing. His black hair (when had he turned back?) shone in the sun.

Valerie was rooted to the spot. How in the hell did someone deal with that? Fuck, how in the hell would someone deal with any of this? In the span of about thirty minutes, Valerie had discovered that not only was her boyfriend dead, but was the town’s widely considered hero and had apparently fought an evil version of his future self and had almost seen all of his friends and family die.

And, to top it all off, he’d discovered that not only were his own parents hunting him, but she was too. Valerie felt sick.

Jesus. Just how much shit had she put him through? Fuck- was that why he was so nervous about telling her he was Phantom? Granted she was still pissed at him, but not for the Cujo thing. Not really.

“Danny.” He looked up at her, and she felt something in her chest break at just how scared and sad he looked. Was this the sort of shit he had to deal with every damn day? All that fear, over being hunted, or experimented on, or getting everyone he loved killed- was this how he felt all the time?

Slowly, Valerie stepped towards him and knelt down. Her eyes never left his.

“Danny. I care... so, so much about you. You... you were the first person to really give a shit about me, after the A-listers dropped me.”

Immediately he tensed, and distress filled his eyes.

“I’m-“

“Nope, don’t, stop. You’re not apologizing. Not right now. Maybe later. Not fucking now.”

He fell silent, eyes wide and searching. Still scared, still tense.

“You love space, and puns. Your favorite video game is Doom 4 even though you’ve never won. Your favorite subject is science, you’ve always wanted a dog, and you doodle in the margins of your paper when your bored.” Valerie paused.

Danny seemed to be noticeably more relaxed, as he was no longer gripping his knees so hard that his knuckles (how had she not noticed the scars? They weren’t exactly small.) were white. Good.

“You adore your mom and dad, even if they embarrass you all the time. You look up to your sister more than anyone on the planet, even if you don’t act it. You don’t make friends often, but when you do you stick with them through hell or high water. You’re incredibly smart when it comes to science and math, even if you have bad grades. And above all, you care so much about bathe people around you. You sacrifice everything, your grades, your relationships, your time, to help people who you think need it. And that applies to phantom and Fenton.”

He was crying again. But this time, there was a small, shaky sort of smile there, one that said something like this was looong overdue.

Slowly, Valerie recalled her suit, and wrapped her arms around Danny in a loose hug. He hugged back burying his face into her shoulder as he shook.

They would be okay. They’d figure it out, eventually.

But for now, they just enjoyed the relief in each other.

——————————

Aaaaand that’s a wrap folks! Part three is finally here! Not gonna lie, I wrote this in the span of about two and a half hours on mobile from 9 to about 11:20 pm, so apologies if there are any inconsistencies.

That being said, I would like to do a poll. I have about 120 followers and I was wondering if I should write something special for y’all once I reach 150. So, would you rather I write:

1) a Danny phantom/Rise of the Guardians crossover,

2) a Danny Phantom TUE! Au fic,

Or

3) part 3 of my Glass ghost au?

Comment your choice below and have a happy weekend or whatever.

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟒)

part three

note - i wanna thank everyone for reading once again! i'm currently in the process of writing imagines, those will be posted throughout the week, i don't want to clog up my blog bc i want y'all to see this chapter!

this one switches pov a lil more frequently, so bear with me <3 also not as smutty as other chapters, this is more of an emotionally-charged chapter!!! still a teensy bit smutty thooo. i want to make it clear that while this fic is definitely rooted in smut & sex & sex work, it is not porn without plot & will not ONLY be smut as i put effort and time into plot development / character development! i'm sure y'all know that tho. there will be conflict, there will be plot!!! i feel like that's clear already but there's discourse on smut happening rn and i wanna voice myself! omg anyways luv y'all enjoy the reaaad <3

new taglist!

playlist

word count - 8.3k

warnings - age gap, sex work, smut, vibrator, ANGSTYYY like hella dramatic, dirty talk

That slight shift that you and Steve both felt, that happiness that you realized came from talking to one another, only lasted so long... for you. You could hardly sit in your feelings about your situation with Steve before another thing that occupied all your time came crashing down upon you. Except this time, the thing brought you no such happiness or curiosity.

    You had spent almost your entire senior year working on a special lab project about drought tolerant plants in Southern California where you lived and went to school, and your professor was making completing your project incredibly hard for you. And you felt incredibly stressed out about the entire situation - not only was the project necessary to graduate, but it was your heart and soul for the past year. Now, your professor was basically saying it was "ineligible."

     "Ineligible?" Aaliyah repeated after you, after you told her what your professor had said.

     "Whatever the hell that means," you huffed as you power walked down the street, hand in hand with Aaliyah, your free hand holding a coffee.

     "That's so fucking annoying, holy shit," Aaliyah pressed a hand to her forehead. "He had the whole year to talk to you about changing your topic and...”

     "And he never did," you sighed, frowning. You settled down onto a bench where the two of you sat next to each other, staring out into the busy streets and sipping your iced coffees.

California was a beautiful place, and you were a native, you'd lived there all your life. You knew the ins and outs of your city, knew Southern California like it was your backbone. And you loved it here - loved the sun, the beaches, the way the people were either shady in the best way or incredibly friendly. You'd never really known any other place like you knew this place. You were just glad that if you had to be stressed, you could do so in California.

Aaliyah pouted, feeling for you. She placed her hand on your knee to be comforting,

     "Babe..."

     "It's okay," you sighed. You sucked it up, like always, because you had learned how to fend for yourself ever since you realized that depending on others could only lead to downfall. You would figure this out the same way you figured everything else out... on your own. You figured out your house on your own, your job, your finances.

     "Is it, though?" Aaliyah pursed her lips and squinted at you. Despite how much you tried to fend for yourself, Aaliyah was always there for you. She was one of your biggest supporters.

     "I'll just keep visiting during his office hours and work this out."

Aaliyah rolled her eyes,

     "Men are so annoying, girl. You know what, he probably wants to fuck you. With your fine ass. That's why he's doing all this."

You chuckled, shaking your head and covering your mouth, trilling back in response,

       "Okay girl, don't get too ahead of yourself."

       "I'm serious! Men are evil. Oh, except your fave."

You made a face, nearly choking on your iced coffee. This was news to you,

       "Who are we talking about?"

       "You know," Aaliyah sang slightly, nudging you and leaning against your shoulder. "Mr. Won't Show His Face."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but bit down on your straw with a knowing smile, eyes peeking out over the top of your shades. If you were being honest, this idea of Steve, whoever he really was, had been a fun thing to entertain during this period of stress. You'd been talking and engaging with him for two and a half weeks now, and the connection you two had was undeniable.

But you knew better - maybe he wasn't just another customer, because you could really talk to him and felt like he was real - then again, he was strictly a customer. You liked him, a lot, but you couldn't like him any more than you already did. That would be dangerous and silly, and create unrealistic expectations. It wasn't like you could go on dates or anything.

    Still, talking to him (and performing for him) did help to distract you from your stress, at least for a small amount of time. Steve was becoming less shy, less inhibited. He cracked jokes and was starting to keep up with your innate sense of sexuality, starting to navigate you, find you the way a bee might find its nectar, hidden deep inside the curvatures of a flower.

If you were a flower, you'd probably be a sunflower - bright, yellow, almost always in a positive mood, or at least trying to keep yourself in a positive mood. More than that though, sunflowers were tall and looming - you felt like that represented your put togetherness and how hard you worked, how smart you were. Only sometimes it was hard to keep yourself up and tall, but you always did it, time and time again.

But when it came to Aaliyah's comments about Steve, she mostly just made you laugh.

    "Haven't seen him yet, have you?" Aaliyah asked, raising her brows expectantly.

     "No. And I'm fine with that. He's simply another very loyal customer who I happen to like."

     "Hm," Aaliyah hummed, and you could tell her mind was up to something - some very wishful, and mischievous thinking.

     "What are you up to?" you narrowed your eyes at her and glared at her, and she just shook her head with a lazy smile,

     "Nothing. Just thinking that maybe it would be cool if he really was this really hot guy that you actually knew and he wasn't creepy and y'all... you know... started dating. Just to get your mind off a lot of crap. I know, I know, strictly against the rules, blah blah blah. No feelings for customers, it's basic shit. But in a perfect world..."

      "I know," you sighed without thinking, sipping at your drink.

     "You know?" Aaliyah questioned, surprised.

You shrugged,

     "So I've thought about it. Except, you know, in a perfect world, I'd meet a guy like Steve in like, a farmer's market or something. Not on my shady ass cam shows."

Aaliyah snorted laughing, and at the sound of her laughter, you joined in.

You continued,

     "I mean, not Steve exactly, because that would be weird. I just mean, a guy like Steve."

     "You mean a guy who makes you feel the same way he makes you feel," Aaliyah corrected you, and you glared at her again, pushing her gently.

     "Don't push it," you teased, but you meant it - you might have liked Steve, but that was all there was to it - you liked him, he was a distraction. And maybe even that was too much.

✺ ✺ ✺

As for Steve, he thoroughly enjoyed his time with you. He thought constantly about how you made him feel, how much he looked forward to talking to you. How everyday, his worry about your situation becoming more serious dissipated slowly. He could feel himself easing into you, everything that made up this character you created called Moonrose. Conversation seemed casual, like you knew each other in real life, it felt easy, and there was no pressure.

As for your connection, he had finally acknowledged that it was real, and more than either of you had wanted to realize at first. But now, there was no shame, no worry in acknowledging what the two of you had, because you were both smart enough to keep it at this level. It was like a shallow pool. There would be no drowning.

He mostly talked to Bucky about you when it came to the emotional aspect of it. He still feared that if he talked to Tony, it might come across as an issue, and might put a pause on what he had with you. But everyone noticed how different Steve was acting. Even without the phase he had gone through where he was sexually frustrated and angry, he still acted different.

Lighter on his feet, more smiley. And he was always on top of his work. You weren't distracting him from his duty, so that made the fact that he knew you had a unique connection with him more bearable. Because of you, he was learning to worry less. To have a little more fun.

    It was a bright day that week, the sun filtering in through the large windows of the meeting room where everyone was gathered. Steve was engaging in some mindless conversation with Sam and Bucky in which they were debating whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza.

     "No. I'm not sure why everyone keeps trying to put all these twists on pizza. It's pizza," Bucky scoffed, Sam rolling his eyes as a result.

    "You're just closed off. With your old ass," Sam retorted, and Steve made a face. Sam raised his hands up in surrender. "You know what I mean. What about you Steve?"

Honestly, Steve had never even tried pineapple on pizza and he didn't understand why there was such a big fuss about the banal question.

    "I don't really have an opinion," he shrugged, not expecting Sam and Bucky to start clamoring over him and trying to force him to pick a side.

    Before he even got to grasp the situation, he felt Natasha patting his shoulder,

"Hey, mind if I use your laptop? Mine's gone haywire, don't really feel like messing with it right now."

"Yeah," Steve agreed without a second thought, setting his laptop on the table and letting Natasha handle it- she was better with tech stuff than he ever was.

Natasha would use his laptop to showcase some data and start off their morning. It seemed innocent enough —a simple, barely impacting sacrifice. But Steve clearly hadn't thought everything through, because the moment Natasha logged in and hooked up Steve's computer to the holographic projector, more than just data appeared on the screen.

In fact, a whole array of women, all of them engaging in various sexual acts or preparing themselves to, showed up on the screen. And at the top, where the browser was, were the words "girlsonfilm.com."

Steve hadn't noticed all the clamor, too busy thinking (thoughts of you and thoughts of work), until Bucky called it to his attention.

"Steve," he nudged him frantically, his voice a loud whisper.

When Steve looked up at the screen, his face couldn't have gone any redder. He hadn't thought about this at all, and he had clearly forgotten to close out his browser. His heart sunk all the way to his stomach - because it wasn't just Natasha seeing this, it was everybody. And that included Tony, who was glaring pointedly at Steve from the head of the table. Meanwhile, all the others were too busy heckling Natasha and making brash comments about what was appearing onscreen. To Steve's relief, your face didn't show up, but this just might have been worse than only your screen appearing.

     "Woah, Nat, I didn't know you got down like that!" Sam hooted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

Natasha, though she was in shock as well, rolled her eyes,

     "This is Steve's laptop."

Now a hush, then another clamor of confusion and heckling, all directed towards Steve. He couldn't recoil any more, feeling the pangs of embarrassment as his eyes flashed between every one of his teammates. He felt as if there were an asteroid approaching fast, and he was right where it would land, too slow to move out of its way.

     "Steve, what do you know about 'girls on film'?" Sam nearly cackled, reading the name of the site.

Steve sighed deeply, locking eyes with Natasha as he mouthed "turn it off" to her.

     "I am, I am," she ensured him, quickly disconnecting the laptop from the projection, unplugging completely.

A beat passed, everyone staring expectantly at Steve, who was staring down at the table, trying to process his own thoughts. Like for starters, why didn't he log out the last time, and why didn't he remember to log out? And then his mind went to deeper places. He hadn't been intentionally secretive with his actions, but he had been intentionally private. It had to do with his own growth, he was learning how to navigate a world that was new to him and somehow helping him at once. He didn't want to have to share this with everyone, it was nice having this to himself, he had no intentions of revealing what he had been doing in his past time that made him so happy.

One of the reasons he didn't want everyone to know about his situation was because he didn't want to have to be concerned with what everyone else might think. Because to begin with, being on a site for cam shows wasn't exactly everyone's idea of what Captain America might be up to these days.

It was a matter of his image, what values he was supposed to hold. This didn't exactly match, and Steve had just gotten over the idea that he was a bad, sneaky person because of what he chose to indulge in. At least here he knew it was ethical and not causing harm to you as a human being.

He also didn't want to have to deal with the insufferable questioning and teasing his team would put him through, or the judgment he thought they might put him through. He felt embarrassed, exposed, and like he had been ill prepared for a situation like this. He was just grateful they hadn't seen more, because that would've been a disaster. What they had seen was only at the surface level of what he'd been doing.

But his thinking was interrupted by Tony's voice, which broke through all the silence, and made Steve realize again the eyes that were on him.

     "Well, jig's up," Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Care to explain?"

Steve locked eyes with Tony, as if hopeful that he wouldn't have to, but he knew it was best for him to just spit it out. Tony shrugged apologetically, and Steve took in a deep sigh, looking around at everyone at the table.

     "What was that?" Scott whimpered, probably the most distraught by what they had all seen.

Steve nodded solemnly and began to explain himself. He would tell the truth, but that didn't mean he had to tell them everything. You would be left out of this, if anything. He'd just explain to them that sometimes, duty calls - and sometimes, it's not at all work-related.

✺ ✺ ✺

It was just hours before your cam show when another disaster struck, the first one being the fact that your professor was giving you shit about your project. You were in the bathroom, getting ready for your show, fixing your hair up and doing your makeup, laying out an outfit, doing all the things you did to feel pretty before a show.

    Your phone lay beside you on the bathroom table, pinging with messages every now and then. You ignored it, leaning closer into the mirror to get a look at your lipstick, dabbing your fingers into the pigment on your lips.

You smiled, feeling that gratifying sense of achievement. Despite what was going on with your professor, you felt like you were doing well in life. You usually had a positive mindset, enjoyed your work although you sometimes felt as if you were buried deep in all your occupations: student, office worker, cam girl, designer, young woman. Your life was never dull, and you wouldn't trade it for anything. Talking to Steve helped too, but it was more than that.

But that sense of satisfaction all seemed to dissolve when you looked down at your phone, and saw a text from an unsaved number, glaring bright on your glowing lock screen of you hiking with Aaliyah. Still, you recognized it immediately.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

I miss you. Text me back.

✺ ✺ ✺

Steve wasn't exactly keen on joining your live show today, but he did so anyway, because he still had time to himself despite the spiral of events that had happened earlier. There was nothing else to do, and he didn't want to miss out on you after attending almost all of your shows for the past almost three weeks. Didn't want to just leave unexpectedly.

It felt strange that he felt this tug of commitment, but he brushed it off. He was just fulfilling his needs, which should even be expected of him. He was stressed again, after being caught up like he was. And maybe that was all the more reason not to watch your show tonight, but he wouldn't devoid himself of the simple pleasures of life. He'd learned that lesson a while ago, from a special someone called Moonrose.

After everything transpired, he explained himself calmly to his team, slowly to ensure that they'd understand that this wasn't the beginning of a deviant phase, that he wasn't throwing away his work responsibilities to lurk on the NSFW side of the internet. Not that they ever thought that to begin with, they never questioned his abilities or his authority for a minute, not even in the midst of what they'd seen that had shocked them.

This was the product of Steve's own insecurities and his admittedly silly fear that he was somehow letting his team down. He told them that he was on the site, as recommended by Tony, to relieve some "frustration" that he felt he didn't have the time or the means to release in real life. He said that while it had helped him do that, he wasn't throwing away his responsibilities, nor was he dependent on the site or the things on it, or the people on it for that matter.

He knew that if they knew about you, all those private sessions, all those conversations you'd had, the connection you had built between the two of you, it might be a different story. But because they didn't, they appreciated his honesty. They were confused, it didn't seem like the kind of thing Steve would be into, and he ensured them that it was a shock to him as well.

But they didn't mind on the whole, it was just a shock to everyone at first. They didn't think it called for a meeting, thought it was almost humorous how serious Steve was being about such a trivial situation. Wanda had joked about how we've all been there, Thor denied ever having to do such a thing because: "I have all the romantic partners anyone could ask for. I could introduce you Steve, but these Asgardian women are fiery, far beyond anything I believe you could handle." In the end, Steve was relieved, felt like it didn't have the disastrous outcome he'd been expected.

But he could feel his guard slowly coming back up. That was a close call, and it was a little too close for comfort. He didn't want to disregard you, but he couldn't afford to sink further in, and get his team involved. He just didn't want to face the consequences he could imagine if they knew how much he decided to stick with you, how much you talked, how it was teetering off the range of normal customer to cam girl interaction.

It wasn't like he was careless when it came to his interactions with you, but he also didn't want his team to know about his business when it came to you. He didn't want them thinking he was engaging too much, didn't want it to get to the point where he was worrying again or felt like he needed to deny himself such wonderful feelings.

All these things were on his mind while he waited for your live show to start. When it did, and he saw your face, he felt a little bit alleviated. Just for now, he could have this fantasy to himself. If they knew about the site, so be it. At least he had you to himself.

      "Hey guys," you mustered a smile, waving to the camera.

Unbeknownst to your viewers, you had spent the past few hours off camera panicking, on the verge of tears, calling Aaliyah frantically so she could help calm you down. That text from that mysterious unknown number had been from your ex's number. The same ex who made you fall into dependency patterns that you worked so hard to get out of, the one who made you feel like you had to work for his love. Like it wasn't something you deserved, just like anyone else.

You had worked so hard to finally wring out all the effects of him, all the bad habits you had fallen into because of him. That was part of the reason why you worked so hard. Not because you were actively avoiding him specifically, but because you were actively bettering yourself. You weren't looking for a relationship. But you knew that if you were in one now, the same things would never happen to you.

When you got that text, it triggered a flood of memories. Feelings you had to work to suppress and actually get over for months so you wouldn't fall back into the same desperate, needy patterns when it came to your relationships with people. All over a simple text from someone you hadn't heard from in almost a year. It hurt you how easy it was to get you to crack, even if you didn't spill out all the way. But on top of the added stress because of school, you were damn close.

You would do the show tonight, anyway. It helped you to escape, although Moonrose was a part of you, it didn't one hundred translate into real life. So in a way, this helped you escape real life. Just for a while. Just like Steve.

You grinned when you saw concerned comments from your watchers:

johnGuy182

Are you okay, moonrose? You seem a little sad.

zenongirl

Girl r u ok? i missed seeing your face!!!

     "Guys, I'm okay," you grinned. And you actually felt better seeing comments from your supporters. It reminded you to cheer up - they were looking for a good show, not a sob story. You leaned back, revealing your stomach in the sheer, sparkly fringed bra you chose to wear (another piece you had designed by yourself). "It's been a looong day."

Steve watched silently, observing your behavior. He didn't notice drastic changes, but you did appear less chipper. Then again, he brushed it off. He didn't expect you to be smiley all the time, you were human too, and this was your work.

"But I'm okay," you reassured, giving that signature grin, genuine and charming and alluring. You were trying to gently distract yourself, get into your act. "I hope you're all just as lovely as I am. I have a special game for you today."

You directed your viewers to your spinning wheel, which you had been working on crafting that week for a game. You grinned as you spinned it. Each act on the wheel cost a certain amount of tokens, and by the end of the game you would garner a bunch of funds. The show went by relatively quickly as you played the game, eventually ending up completely naked.

As ordered by the spinning wheel, you were to use a vibrator. You held it against your clit at the highest setting as you watched the numbers of viewers and the tokens jump up, Steve watching as he stroked himself leisurely. Your legs shook as you restrained yourself from your orgasm so as to increase the length of your showtime, garner more coins to encourage you to come.

     "Mm," you moaned, massaging the vibrator against your clit, getting wetter and slicker by the minute, sliding the toy between your folds. You laughed, breathless. "Fuck, this thing is so powerful. Someone make me come, please make me come. Just a few more tokens for me to come for you."

Steve was hesitant, but he decided to go ahead and give you the amount of tokens you needed. And when you heard the chime of the tokens being added to your account, and saw the name it was attached to, it was like a blast of euphoria. When your legs started to shake, when you started to moan and your stomach started to rise up and down, it was genuine. It was like you were back in a private room with him, although you weren't.

Your orgasm was blood-curdling in the best way, and you felt like you were releasing part of the stress of the past day, the past week. It didn't get any realer than this, once again you felt like he was really there to satisfy you.

      "Oh!" you exclaimed, your mouth dropping open and your blood flowing, moaning. "Yes, Steve, I'm coming for you. Thank you for making me come, Steve!"

Steve had been stroking himself along with you as he watched, and only let himself come now that you had come, his cheeks heating up as he heard you moan his name, something he hadn't been expected. Something about you saying his name like that where everyone could hear, even though he enjoyed the intimacy of private rooms, felt victorious. It felt lewd, salacious, but he couldn't help but enjoy that aspect of it. He moaned through grit teeth while he came, stroking himself to completion.

You came down, thanking everyone for attending and ending the show. But it wasn't long after that you had requested Steve for a private chat. He accepted, because he had gotten used to you doing this a little more frequently. It didn't scare him any more, he just thought of it as making conversation, taking advantage of this connection you had with each other. So when you requested, who was he to say no.

When the chat log opened, you put on your best happy face for Steve, trying to conceal how fatigued this week, today in particular, had made you. But your tired, bleak voice gave it all away, buried deep beneath your smile,

    "Hey, Steve."

Steve was surprised at the sound of your voice. Again, while he understood that you wouldn't be a happy go lucky fairy like personality all the time, he wasn't expecting this. You were smiling, but the weariness in your eyes was hard to miss. And your voice, which usually told light hearted tales, sounded worn down as if from tragedy. He was concerned, his eyebrows furrowed gently,

     "Hi. How are you?"

     "I'm good!" you exclaimed, trying your hardest to really sound "good."

But you were just tired. Tired and sad, and scared - scared of what the future had to hold. You were already dealing with school stress, and the text from your ex-boyfriend was like a bad omen, an anxiety-provoking assurance that things actually would not get better and they would in fact get progressively worse. You weren't even sure why you thought you should be talking to Steve if you were tired and just wanted to sleep off the weight of the week. It would be a weekend tomorrow, and one of your very rare days off.

Maybe you figured that you wanted to talk to him despite your fatigue, because conversation with Steve was a nice distraction. You had let yourself forget that this was still your job, and that you were too tired for anything sexual — you knew he liked talking to you, but you hadn't put into consideration the fact that he might request a sexual act from you. You would be burnt out if he did. The fact that you didn't think about that should've been telling, but your brain was too scattered to think straight.

Anyway, Steve called your bluff, and laughed quietly, his voice inquiring and pressing,

      "How are you really?"

That was all it took to get a deep sigh to come from out of you, all it took to allow yourself to show your true feelings, at least the surface of them, what you felt comfortable showing a customer. You felt a sense of relief and gratefulness for Steve, like he was letting you breathe. And if anything, he especially wasn't enlisted to listen to your problems. But he wanted to, and for that you felt foolishly grateful.

    Steve noted the deep sigh that came from out of you, and he frowned slightly. He could tell you had been holding this in for a while, and some part of him felt remorse for the fact that even though you clearly weren't in the right mindset, you went on and did your show anyway. He felt some guilt for being a part of the reason why you did your show.

    You answered, allowing your voice to be as honest as possible.

    "Honestly?" you chuckled a little, albeit bitterly. "I don't know if you really want to hear me rant to you."

Steve shook his head.

    "Don't be silly," he grinned. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to."

You felt a warm rush in your chest from the reassurance, and the corner of your lip quirked up in a small smile, before you decided to dive in. You'd spare the emotional details, spare your private life. But it would be nice to talk to someone, just about the general things, right?

    "Well, it's been a pretty stressful week, honestly. I mean, school's been the main source of my stress. My professor's such an asshole, he's basically been telling me my entire senior project, which I need to complete to graduate, needs to be redone? And I can't even fathom how I would have enough time to do that with like, two and a half months left of my senior year. I mean, he said I can keep most details, but I'd have to rework it, whatever that means."

    You kept your emotions at bay, sighing in annoyance just at the story you told, because it really was irritating you. But then you felt deeper things, even more went into why you really were upset.

    Steve nodded, just listening. He was prepared to offer advice, but in your situation, he thought that maybe just letting you rant would be best.

    "That's gotta be annoying," he shook his head understandingly. "Whatever your project is, I'm sure it's wonderful. He shouldn't be forcing you to rework it or make any last minute changes."

    "I know!" you nearly jumped up, feeling amped up now. "And it's just so fucking annoying because I work so hard and I'm really passionate about this project and it just feels like..."

    It felt like you were about to overflow, like a pot of water that had been left on for too long. You were ranting almost uncontrollably now, maybe because of the fact that it was more than this that was tugging at you. Because you'd been carrying the weight of your life on your shoulders all the time, like Atlas carrying the sky, and it felt like that weight was finally starting to mean something.

    Steve could see you were unraveling and he let you, he let you take the time you needed to feel everything you had been holding. If your connection was strong, it was at its strongest here. Sure, you and Steve chatted about a little bit of everything, even had deeper conversations here and there as the weeks went by. But you had yet to genuinely complain to him, because every time you spoke with him, you were happy go lucky Moonrose, with nothing to complain about to begin with. But now, you needed a release by any means, and you were just glad Steve was there for you, even if he wasn't really there. How unlike you to unfold in front of strangers.

   Your breath stuttered as you took in a deep breath in a failed attempt to calm down, only further driving yourself into your rambling. You felt yourself tear up, your voice becoming watery as you continued,

    "It just feels like all my work is turning to shit, and it's so fucking frustrating because I work so hard all the time, I do so much and I manage so much all the time."

     The "hard work" you were talking about wasn't just school and work-related, it pertained to your journey, and how hard you had worked to be a better person. To support yourself. The emotions pent up inside of you, they were more than just being upset over a school project. The idea of someone toxic trying to re-enter your life, someone who had forced you to rework the entirety of your life, made you feel like you were on the verge of crashing. You knew better, but you didn't want to return to those dark days, where the light at the end of the winding tunnel that was your relationship seemed so far away. It was why you were so weary of relationships today. It was crazy how one person could change your life so easily.

     Now you were crying, before you even noticed that you were crying. Tears just seemed to leak out of your eyes, sloshing wet and sudden against your cheeks and underneath your lashes. You wiped them away quickly with the back of your hand, frazzled at the fact that you were crying in front of a customer right now. Steve said he'd listen to you, he didn't say he'd watch you cry and be your therapist. You instantly regretted it, although you couldn't stop yourself, tears threatening to emerge again. If you were cracked before, you were spilling now.

    Steve was surprised too, at the fact that you were crying. You appeared so put together to him, it was almost something he didn't expect from you. He was in shock at first, so much so that professionalism was not on his mind - it was an afterthought. Right now, instead of wondering if this was appropriate, he was occupied with you.

    "I'm sorry," you murmured, but you still hadn't stopped, tears falling out as you blinked. Composure was nothing now, you were sobbing, your shoulders slumped and your head hung as you sniffled. Still you enforced control, wiping away every tear that fell with the back of your hand. "I'm really sorry, I don't mean to cry to you over this, that's so-"

Steve cut you off, shaking his head slowly,

    "It's okay to cry, doll. We all have those days. I know better than anyone that we all have those days."

    You mustered a smile, feeling cared for, feeling accounted for by someone who wasn't even obligated to have to see you like this. Still you shook your head, sniffling,

    "I know. But it's-it's stupid, I shouldn't be crying in front of you."

    "I'm not judging you," Steve said, so nonchalantly and firmly, so genuine that it almost scared you.

You blinked. He should've cared, and he should've judged you. To cry in front of Steve, a customer, was to imply he had some duty to comfort you when he probably just wanted a show. You knew that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but even you had rules when it came to what your customers got to see, and to you, that meant they didn't have to deal with your blues.

     "Really?"

     "Really," he reassured you with a nod.

    Was Steve scared that by giving you this reassurance, this entire situation could become deeper than either of you could handle? Yes. But did he let himself shut down because of those pervasive thoughts that he might get himself into trouble? No. He didn't see you as a liability right now. Right now, even though the situation was certainly questionable (and this was something he had no doubt about. When emotions get into the mix, things could get tricky- he knew this), he saw you as someone who desperately needed someone to talk to. Maybe it wasn't smart of you to make him that someone, but regardless, he was, and who was Steve Rogers not to listen to a person in need?

    You blinked away the last of your tears and swallowed hard. You were making this choice consciously, to tell Steve what had really gotten you to your breaking point. And maybe telling him meant you had trust in him, maybe too much trust for someone who, while great, was still a customer. But you felt like there was nothing you could lose from telling him. Maybe you'd even feel better after the fact.

    You looked down, picking at the body glitter on your arm that you had applied before the show. Your voice was considerably quieter now perhaps because you were looking back on the moment with a clear mind for the first time since it happened. You hadn't been thinking straight ever since you received the text just hours ago. Now your brain was a little quieter with the help of your tears and Steve's reassurance.

       "I think that the stress of this school project is making me resent how hard I work for everything, just to be met with this kind of result, you know? And it's even worse when... things seem to be going backwards. You know, like when you make so much progress, moving on from things that don't serve you, and you've finally done it and you get to flourish in it and then, it just gets taken away from you. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but that's just how this feels."

     Steve nodded, his jaw ticking as he let your words settle in. Somehow, although your situation was so different from his, he felt like your words perfectly described how he felt with the world sometimes. It was even part of the reason he'd held off on talking to you like this, held off on getting too involved. He too had made so much progress in this world, which took so much getting adjusted to in a way that absolutely nobody else could relate to.

    It was a world that he didn't even know, a world that he had never been properly introduced to. He'd had to fend for himself. He did his healing on his own, just like you had. And yet sometimes it felt like he had no control, like the universe was going the opposite way of all his plans. Then he felt stupid for even having plans to begin with, because in life, making plans was like comedy for the gods.

    There was a weird feeling in his chest and stomach, like he'd been stabbed with a gutting realization, and the knife was just turning inside of him, churning his insides. He began to feel a sense of unease, because this deep conversation was beginning to feel incredibly personal. Even though you were talking about your own situation, he couldn't help but think about how much he resonated, and the fact that he felt like he could relate to you on such a deep level scared him. This was more than the conversations you'd had before, more than the simple similarities you and Steve shared. This felt like a conversation that might be too telling for his good and your own.

     He swallowed his words as he listened to you continue. You chose your words carefully, but you had shed yourself of your inhibitions when it came to being truthful.

     "Earlier... I heard from someone I hadn't heard from in a long time. And it kind of pushed me over the edge," out of your mouth stumbled a laugh. You were calmer now, and looked up at the camera, Steve swallowing hard when you did so. It was all so real, just like it was when you touched yourself and moaned Steve's name. "I think it just made me feel all those things I just explained. Because I feel like I worked so hard to rid myself of this person and them trying to come back just feels like all the things I worked so hard on are going to unravel. Even though I know they aren't, it feels like a setback. And that was like, the icing on the cake to this already terrible day, I guess."

      You let out a breathy laugh and smiled gently, shaking your head slowly.

     "I normally wouldn't be telling this to a customer. But here we are. Again, I'm sorry... I feel like I shouldn't have said anything? Should I... have said anything?"

In the brief silence that followed your question,  both you and Steve were thinking the same thing - were you going to regret this? Intimacy both physically and emotionally was good when you capped it at what you both knew to be appropriate. When it came to the physical aspects, you each let your fantasies unwind.

    And on the emotional aspect, though you had both grown closer and more open, some things just didn't get touched upon. But now you had just cried over the screen, and spoke from the depths of your heart. It was scary to open up in such an uncertain situation where your own privacy was an aspect that got involved. There was no doubt that it was too much. It was just a question of whether the result would be negative.

     Steve sighed deeply, a crease forming in his forehead as he furrowed his brows together, folding his arms over his chest.

     "I don't know..." he trailed off, took a breath, a leap, his body practically lurching forward. "But... it can't be a bad thing that you feel comfortable talking to me about this, can it?"

      And there it was, that glint of hope he was trying his hardest to conceal. That feeling he got when he got off that call with you, the one where you both started giving into those unspoken thoughts. That this couldn't be so bad, that you could enjoy each other's company without worrying.  

     You smiled gently,

    "I guess. It does feel weird though, it's not something I normally do. It feels like something I shouldn't be doing."

    You could hear Steve breathing in deeply, and for a moment, you imagined what he might look like, envisioning the outline of a troubled face, eyebrows knit together. You snapped back to reality and made a face, confused by your abrupt thoughts. You had long gotten over the very brief desire to see Steve's face- why was it coming back again?

    "I'll be honest, same here," Steve agreed with your sentiments.

    "Do you always feel like you have to restrain what you say when you talk to people? Or is it just with me?" you added that last part in a quiet voice, biting your lip.

Steve chuckled briefly,

      "Are you asking me if I have trust issues? Because I'd tell you, but I'd have to trust you to do that."

You shook your head and laughed at Steve's stupid joke, and shrugged.

     "I could say the same thing, I think. This person I heard from earlier is... I developed those trust issues because of them. Or, my already existent trust issues became worse. But what's funny about it is that this person was once someone that I loved," even as the words were coming out you questioned why you were letting them, why you were allowing yourself to be so truthful in a situation like this at a time when you were so vulnerable.

      Steve didn't reply, again feeling that sick feeling in his stomach that stemmed from his fear. The fear that this conversation were too serious, fear surrounding the fact that he was able to relate so much to such a personal situation of yours.

    You spoke again, daring to ask the question that felt like a final blow to Steve's stomach,

    "Have you ever been in love, Steve?"

Now Steve knew he was in uncharted territory. Not because he feared you might try to exploit him, but because he was so struck by the fact that he had allowed himself to feel so safe with you and get so close to you. He was surprised at himself for letting you feel safe enough to have these kinds of conversations with him. It all felt like a mistake now. He wanted a way out, any way out. He knew if he even attempted to answer that question, he would be making a big mistake. He had shared some of his most intimate moments with you, but always keeping in mind a very sharp line he didn't want to be crossed.

And in his mind, he thought of the one love he'd had, the one love that hadn't been fulfilled because of the situation he had been thrown into, one he had never signed up for. He thought of how the things he cared most for in life had been discarded, how, like you, he felt like it had gone to shit. How sometimes, though he tried his best to be grateful and had taken that journey of self-healing just like you, it all felt like some sick joke.

Could he even call it love? He wasn't sure. And he wasn't going to answer. He wasn't going to answer at all, because he wouldn't be talking to you again. There would be no chance for this dilemma to resurface, not with you, not on this site. He made the decision with haste and a heavy heart - he was done here.

      The discomfort was well evident in his voice, answering loud and clear, though his voice was morose and a bit closed off. You sensed the shift immediately.

     "I... I can't talk about that right now. Listen, I have to go."

    You felt a pang in your chest at the sudden switch in his demeanor, straightening up and trying not to frown. All this time you had been letting the words spill out, telling yourself not to worry so much, reassuring yourself it was okay to make your feelings known. Now it felt like you should've never said anything at all. You started to stammer.

      "Oh, I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I was just... I feel like I got a little overwhelmed." You laughed nervously. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Steve felt his throat ran dry as he blinked, feeling emotions come up to surface that he wasn't quite familiar with. Maybe he was grieving in advance, regretting the decision he was making to no longer speak with you, regretting the fact that he was letting fear get in the way of what he wanted so badly to be a good thing.

    "No, I'm sorry. I feel like I let things go too far," Steve apologized, but the apology felt more like an insult.

Was he implying that whatever this was, you couldn't handle it, and that it was his fault for somehow leading you on? You had both made the connection with each other, it was an equal effort. And why was he acting like the two of you communicating at all was somehow below him, somehow a risk? If anything, you were the one risking it just by talking to him the way you did. You were opening up to him. 

     You almost felt betrayed - you had convinced yourself that he wouldn't want to listen to your problems and you told yourself it wasn't his responsibility to listen. And then he listened anyway, told you that he wanted to hear it, and you cried to him. You felt like you had made so many unusual accommodations just for him to scare off like this. He was just another person you had expressed your feelings to, only to regret it in the end.

    "Too far?" you questioned, furrowing your brows.

Steve swallowed. In your voice he could hear a hint of frustration, but even worse- hurt. It pained him more than he cared for you to know.

    "I don't think we should talk anymore," he said instead.

    "What?" you were taken by surprise. "Steve, I'm... I'm not understanding. I... I don't usually open up to people like this, I mean, I thought maybe it was fine here, because I feel like I know you. But you're still a stranger. I understand you're a customer but I thought we were talking, I thought we broke through that wall-"

    "We did. And we shouldn't have," Steve said, his voice so calm and firm that it was almost cold.

    By now you were just staring into the computer camera, as if you were looking at him and waiting for him to come to his senses. But as you did that, you slowly came to your own. Because you weren't looking at him. You were looking at a black screen with his voice behind it. You realized you hadn't known Steve, not enough to talk about these things. And just like him, you too were full of regret. You kept all those walls up for the sake of customer relations, only to put them down and be met with this disastrous result.

    Steve almost couldn't bare to look at your face anymore. You were confused, hurt. He could tell you regretted the fact that you had opened up. He was hurt too, but he wouldn't show it, or let it overcome him to the point where your methods of communication with each other became something neither of you could control. Still, yes, he was hurt.

    But he had been through plenty of hardships in life. What was one more, even if it shouldn't have come to this point anyway?

    "I'm sorry, Moonrose. We can't. Goodbye."

Chat over.

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 35]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

I wanna write something so I’m going to do this. 

Chapter 13

Logan was able to quickly set up the station for making protection charms. Patton had always liked making them, though he often used his more as fun accessories than for protection. The one he was going to show Virgil how to make was a very simple low level one used for little more than to keep bugs off of yourself and, in the event of a well made one, alert one to imminent danger by changing temperature. It was a nice thing to hold in the middle of the night if one was frightened by real or imagined threats. It would be warm to the touch when your environment was safe; he thought Virgil might appreciate it.

 He and Patton decided to wait until Virgil woke up naturally which only took about 30 minutes. Then, Logan brought him to his set up supplies. He explained briefly the process for making a protection charm. “I will be the one performing the enchantment for today,” he told Virgil. “I will show you how to make your own later, but I thought seeing how to make them would help with the learning process.”

“Plus, it’s fun!” Patton said.

Logan flashed a smile at him. “And that as well. I’ve prepared a small number of possible pendants for you to choose from. You can choose the shape and color, then we will put on a custom engraving, as well as decorations.”

 “Glitter! Glitter! Glitter! Glitter!”

“Yes, Patton, everyone knows you’re going to choose glitter,” Logan said, amused, “but why don’t we let Virgil decide for his own pendant?”

“Fine,” Patton said, “but mine will be glitter.”

Logan grabbed the box of blank pendants and offered it to Virgil. “Choose whichever one feels right,” he suggested. Virgil moved forward and looked over the box. “You can touch them,” Logan said. “In fact, I would suggest it as it is meant to be held when it’s done and you may as well get a feel for it.”

At his prompting, Virgil did. He reached into the box and shifted a few to the side. Eventually, he started picking a few up. “I like the crescent shape for holding the most he said,” holding a blue one up, but I don’t know.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Patton asked.

“Oh, um,” he mumbled. “I dunno.”

“Well here,” Patton said, reaching for the box. He dug through it and pulled out every single crescent moon shaped pendant and lined them up. “What do you fancy?”

Virgil considered them all for a long moment and then tentatively pointed the purple one out.

“Great!” Patton said. “Then, we’ll use that one.”

Virgil nodded and Patton picked up the pendant to drop it into his hands. His fingers curled over the shape and he seemed satisfied by the choice, so Logan turned to Patton. “Your turn,” he said.

Patton happily grabbed out a heart shaped blue one, but then paused and exchanged it for a purple one. “We match!” he said.

Virgil smiled slightly at his enthusiasm, and Logan dug out a blue crescent moon shape for himself. “Now that you have your base, you get to choose the engraving.” He opened up the instruction book to the correct page and showed it to him.

Virgil looked over the two pages of designs with carful focus. He wavered between the spiral sun and the flames for a moment, but eventually settled on the flames. Patton chose the interlocking hearts design as anticipated; it was his favorite, and Logan chose the spiral sun design for himself.

“Now, I’m going to engrave this design onto yours,” Logan said getting out the thin pen like instrument and dipping it into the slightly glowing bottle of potion he’d set out. “In the meantime, Patton will show you what we have for decorations.”

He was careful to get the symbol as perfect as he could and then started on Patton’s. Patton apparently managed to corrupt the boy because both of them came back with brushes and glitter to add as decoration.

Logan shook his head and handed them their freshly engraved pendants. “Apply the glitter how you like,” Logan said, moving on to his own engraving. Once he was finished, he selected some glow in the dark paint to decorate his own.

 Once he’d finished decorating his own pendant, Logan looked up. “Are you finished?” he asked.

“Yep!” Patton said, shoving his pendant at Logan while Virgil nodded. Virgil had been far less enthusiastic than Patton, having carefully brushed glitter into the flame design only whereas Patton had haphazardly covered his own all over with glitter. Logan took both pendants.

“This,” Logan said, bringing over a different potion, “is used to make sure the decorations never fall off. It basically allows the other substances to become a part of the stone. “It isn’t too dangerous, but I’d suggest you stand back for the moment.”

 Virgil stepped back farther back than was strictly necessary and gave the potion bottle a wary look. Logan moved all three pendants to the prepared surface (else they ran the risk of also getting stuck to the table) and put on gloves, having learned that magically gluing rocks to ones hands was not fun years ago. Then, he carefully drizzled a bit of the potion onto each rock. The rocks fizzled loudly, and Virgil gave off a startled yelp before toppling over flat on his face with his wrist glued to his sides.

“Oh no, honey,” Patton said immediately crouching next to him. “I’m sorry. We should have warned you about the noise.”

Logan wasn’t sure what type of action he’d tried to take when the sound started up, but whatever it was, it had caused him to move his arms fast enough that he’d activated the binding potion and it snapped his wrists to his side, overbalancing him.

 Patton’s hands hovered over the startled boy, but he didn’t touch. After a few moments, it was clear that the magic keeping Virgil’s hands at his side released because his hands slowly crept forward to push himself up, so his face wasn’t planted against the ground. His eyes still looked incredibly startled.

“Are you alright?” Patton asked.

Virgil blinked. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said.

Logan took his words as permission to move without risking startling him more. Virgil’s eyes bopped back and forth between him and Patton a few times as he crossed to his wall of potions and grabbed one.

 He also selected a clean cloth from a basket on his way over to them. “A light healing potion,” Logan explained as he knelt in front of Virgil. He uncorked it. “May I?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said with a frown. “I’m not even bleeding. It’s barely anything.”

“Which is why it’s a light healing potion,” Logan said. “You are sure to bruise with the way you hit. This will prevent it and make it stop hurting.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed after a moment. Logan dribbled a bit out onto the rag. After a moment of thought, he touched the damp part of the cloth with his own finger, just to quash any fears that it would harm him.

 “It will tingle slightly,” Logan warned. Virgil tilted his face to let him dab it onto his nose and the light scrape on his face. His nose scrunched up and he moved to rub the sensation away quickly only to have his arms slam back to his sides.

Patton caught him so the sudden involuntary movement didn’t cause him to fall back, and then giggled when Virgil titled his head to what could only be described as pout back at him.

“Aw, poor thing,” Patton cooed, reaching forward to rub a hand across the top of his nose and then his forehead where the potion had been applied for him.

 “Better?” Patton asked.

“You’re really bad at this being captors thing,” Virgil commenting, willingly leaning back into Patton. Patton just smiled happily.

Logan took the bottle and got to his feet, before returning it, and then glanced at the pendants as Patton helped Virgil to his feet. The pendants had stopped fizzing, so Logan felt okay reaching in and grabbing them all.

He handed both Patton and Virgil their pendants when they walked closer to the table.

“And now for the actual enchantment,” Logan said. “For today, I already prepared the potion up to the last step as it has to sit for a few hours, but I will show you the last step and eventually teach you everything if you are still interested.”

 Virgil nodded, but said. “No more noises?”

Logan smiled. “No more noises,” he confirmed. Then he pushed forward all of the ingredients he was about to put in the pot for Virgil to study one by one before putting them each in it in the correct order. Then he demonstrated how to stir it correctly and told him how many times, though he doubted he’d be able to retain all of the information from this one demonstration. “There,” he said, setting down his spoon. “Now we just all put our pendants into the pot, and they should be ready in 25 minutes.”

 Logan showed Virgil around his potion’s lab while they waited, explaining what certain pieces of equipment did and a bit about his organization system. Virgil followed him around, looking at the things he pointed out curiously. He, however, got very distracted when Logan showed him one of the experiments he’d concocted. It was a thick liquid that was super attracted to itself and would form a small ball that could be disturbed by touching it. He seemed to like the sensation of squishing it down onto a table… over and over and over again.

“We should get him a ball of yarn,” Patton said out of the corner of his mouth. He may have been enjoying watching Virgil play with the substance more than Virgil was enjoying playing with it himself. And that was saying something.

21984

Eventually, however, the pendants were finished, and he dragged Virgil away from his new toy to show him the finished product.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Is it supposed to be warm?” Virgil inquired.

“Yes,” Logan replied. “It’s temperature changes based on if the magic on it senses a threat or not. Warmer temperatures mean you are safe.

“Oh,” Virgil said softly, hand squeezing around it. “I like it.”

Logan found himself smiling. “I’m glad. It’s yours.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“If you would like, I’m sure Patton has some suggestions if you’d desire a way to keep it attached to your person. He in particular likes to make them into necklaces or clip them to his clothing.”

Virgil looked over at Patton and nodded shyly. Patton immediately perked up. “I’ll go get some supplies!” he said.

  Chapter 14

“So then,” Patton was saying. “We ran to the stables.”

“We went to gazebo first,” Logan cut in.

“Right, we tried to go to the gazebo first,” Patton corrected, “but Mr. Deknis was over there tending to the tomatoes, and we knew he’d tell Mama the second he saw us. So, then we turned around and went to the stables.”

Virgil tilted his head, listening to the story Patton was telling. Patton was not the best storyteller. He tended to get lost in the middle and embellish, though Logan always corrected him. It was still very entertaining to watch though because he got incredibly animated. He’d even toppled himself over in excitement a couple of times.

 Virgil squeezed the small pillow he had in his lap. He… wasn’t 100% sure what was going on. Logan and Patton had settled him on the blanket covered ground near Logan’s bed and proceeded to feed him snacks and talk about a lot of different things. It had started with them talking about what they’d done that day, and when Patton had made reference to something Virgil hadn’t understood, the two of them ended up talking about things from their childhood.

Virgil found himself entranced by their stories about playing in and running around the castle. It was all so different from what Virgil had experienced.

 “…but, right as we were about to get to the ladder to climb up into the hay loft, Logan tripped!” Patton said, arms whipping around him. “He fell into a container of grain for the horses and it spilled all over the place. He tried to get up but grabbed the edge of the water trough and apparently it wasn’t very secure because it fell over and soaked him. So, then he was wet and covered in grain. He looked hilarious.”

“I did not!” Logan protested, but it did not sound like all of the other times he’d corrected Patton’s stories that night.

 Patton looked over at him. “You did! You woke up the cute stable hand and he laughed himself silly at you, and by the time we got you even partially cleaned up, your dad had already found us. That’s how we got caught.”

“I have no recollection of these events,” Logan clearly lied, his cheeks a bit flushed.

“Liar,” Patton claimed. “You complained about picking grain out of your sheets for weeks.”

“No,” Logan growled.

“Yes! It’s okay. It was a good laugh.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed on him, and he looked pissed, but a second later, his expression lightened up. “You know what else was a ‘good laugh’?” he asked.

 There was a second of silence before…

“Don’t you dare Logan.”

Logan looked him directly in the eye. “Patton was thirteen,” Logan started, but was interrupted the next moment when Patton lobbed a pillow at his head. Logan grabbed the pillow and leaned forward to smack Patton back with it. “He was thirteen and had just ‘discovered boys’ as his mother and my father called it when they attempted to explain his behavior to me. The focus of said ‘discovering’ at the time was the son of an ambassador from Lamir” who was staying for the summer, a seventeen-year-old boy by the name Bernardo.”

 Virgil flinched back as Patton suddenly threw himself across the semicircle they’d made with their bodies to tackle Logan to the ground. He watched as they ineffectually wrestled on the ground for a few seconds before Logan, voice strained continued to speak, while battling Patton’s hands away from his mouth.

“Patton’s only knowledge about flirting… ow… at that point was laughing at everything someone said and touching their arms and shoulders.” Logan managed to flip himself onto his stomach which was a horrible move as far as Virgil was concerned. It put him at a disadvantage to get out of the pin. However, Patton just kept reaching for his mouth and didn’t bare down on his neck to try to cut off his oxygen like Virgil expected. So, perhaps it was a rational move. “Our parents were speaking leaving Patton, Bernardo, and I in the garden,” Logan mumbled into the ground. “Bernardo said something ‘funny’ and Patton went to slap his shoulder while laughing, but shoved too hard… Patton did you just lick my face?!”

 “And I’ll do it again if you don’t shut up!” Patton threatened. That was a… weird fighting strategy.

Logan paused to consider his options. “He shoved Bernardo into the fountain and when Bernardo asked him why he did that, he ran away and wouldn’t talk to him the rest of the summer!” Logan rushed out.

Patton reached over and grabbed the nearest pillow, proceeding to whack him viciously in the back of the head. Logan was lucky the nearest object was a pillow and not something any sturdier. “It’s not funny!” Patton yelled, smacking him even more, which was when Virgil realized Logan was laughing despite the pinning and pillow pummeling. “It’s not!” Patton said. “I really liked him!!”

 “He was seventeen!” Logan said. “It was never going to happen!”

Patton groaned and rolled off of Logan to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. “But he had so many muscles,” Patton said. “He probably could have thrown me 10 yards.”

“And that is… a benefit?” Logan asked, rolling over onto his side to face him.

“You don’t. Get me.” Patton tilted his head to look at Virgil. “Anyway,” he said. “That is the story of how I died at 13.”

Virgil stared at him, and Patton’s forehead crinkled looking at him.

“Is something wrong, honey?” he asked.

 “What was that?” Virgil asked.

“What was what?”

Virgil just blinked at him. Patton seemed to think for a moment.

“Oh, did you think we were fighting?” Patton asked. “Like, really fighting?”

“You weren’t fighting?” Virgil asked.

“No, sweetie,” Patton said. “We were just playing.” He popped up into a sitting position. “Well, play fighting, but emphasis on play!”

Virgil looked over at Logan for confirmation. “No one is harmed nor was there any intention to harm each other,” he assured.

Patton grabbed the pillow he’d been smacking Logan with. “Like this!” he said. “Bap.” Unlike how he’d smacked Logan ruthlessly, he basically just touched Virgil’s shoulder with it.

 Virgil squinted at him.

“Bap!” Patton said again, smacking him again, this time with a little bit more force and on the cheek. Virgil’s nose scrunched up. “Pillow fight!”

“Pillow fight?”

“You try,” he said, pointing to the pillow in Virgil’s lap.

Virgil glanced down at the bands around his wrist. “Um…” he said. “I don’t think I can?”

“Oh, right,” Patton said with a frown. He bit his lip and glanced over at Logan. “Maybe…”

“Ill-advisable,” Logan said.

“But…” Patton said. “Pillow fight.”

“We would have to be very cautious and make sure there were no weapons in the area.”

“No weapons but pillows!”

 “Fine,” Logan relented to whatever was going on. “Let’s clear the area.” Virgil watched them with mounting confusion as they removed everything within a few meters radius of him except for pillows and blankets.

“There!” Patton said after a minute. “All done!”

“What are you doing?” Virgil said.

“We’re going to have a pillow fight,” Patton said.

“But I…”

“We’ll temporarily allow your restraints to be in the third setting like when you’re in the closet.”

Were they serious? Were they stupid? Virgil could have killed them dozens of times with the second setting and now they were giving him even more range of motion?

 “You have to promise not to try to hurt anyone though,” Patton said. Virgil stared at him dumbly, as Patton held out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

Patton nodded solemnly. “We lock pinky fingers and make a promise. It’s the most binding promise in the universe.”

Virgil looked at his finger, confused. He’d never heard of that type of deal. “What kind of magic is it?”

“No magic,” Patton said. “Just friendship.” Virgil tilted his head but brought his hand up so Patton could twine their fingers together. “Now, promise you won’t hurt anyone.”

“I promise I won’t hurt anyone,” he said.

“It’s a deal!” said Patton, squeezing Virgil’s finger with his own briefly before drawing away. “I trust you.” Virgil felt a rush of something that was no type of magic he’d ever come into contact before but was definitely far more powerful.

 Logan came over to them and waved his hand over the restraints on Virgil. They buzzed slightly and Virgil looked between them. “So, I just hit you with pillows?”

“Try not to hit too hard near the face, and Lo and I should probably take off our glasses before we start, but yeah,” Patton said, taking his glasses off as he said it. It was yet another foolish move on his part. “It’s fun, and it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay…” Virgil said.

“I will demonstrate,” Logan said as he took a pillow and smacked Patton in the stomach.

“Hey! No fair!” Patton giggled. “We haven’t started yet!” This did not deter Logan however, as he continued to smack Patton with a pillow.

“On the contrary,” he said. “It has started, and we’re getting you first.”

 “No,” Patton whined, but the way he crumpled to the ground under the onslaught seemed far too staged to make Virgil worry. He didn’t even try to curl up into a ball or to protect his head, just taking the hits and giggling.

Logan looked up at Virgil and motioned with his head. Virgil inched over and looked down at Patton. Logan slowed for a few moments. “Go on,” he urged.

Virgil bit his lip and reached forward to smack Patton lightly with his pillow which seemed to do nothing to him but renew his peels of giggles. From there, it was easy to continue. Logan picked up the pace of his strikes and he and Virgil proceeded to ‘fight’ Patton until he couldn’t breath through his laughter and pushed the pillows away, curling up on his side to recover.

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“No what?” Virgil asked when Patton sat up.

“Now I get vengeance!” Patton said, popping to his feet and smacking Logan in the face. “Help me Virgil!” So, Virgil turned on Logan and he and Patton gave the prince the same treatment. Then, because it was only fair, it was Virgil’s turn, though they were a lot more careful with him then they’d been with each other, and really Patton spent more of the time checking in on Virgil then actually hitting him with the pillow. It was nice. Fun. And when Virgil pushed them away, they pulled back. Then, it was Patton’s turn again and they went around teaming up on each other and sometimes just smacking at each other at random.

  Eventually, they slowed, and all ended up laying near each other on the floor.

“Well, that made me hungry,” Patton said, sitting up and stretching. “I asked Mama to make us a bunch of mini sandwiches with different flavors. I’ll go get them.”

He hopped to his feet to walk over to where they’d stored the food earlier in those little glowing magical balls Logan had for food preservation.

Logan and Virgil sat up too, and Virgil offered him his wrists.

“Right,” Logan said with a blink. He made a motion and Virgil could feel the magic weighing down his hands once again. He’d almost forgotten, Virgil thought with an internal sigh. They’d given an assassin free range of motion, had a pillow fight with him, and almost forgotten to restrain him again. What was Virgil going to do with these idiots?

  Chapter 15

Patton strolled up to the doors to the royal wing, his arms crossed casually around his middle.

Kalani raised an eyebrow as he approached and gave her the most innocent expression he could. “Whatcha got there, Pat?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he asked, as his sweater squirmed. “What do you mean?”

She considered him for a moment. “Well, I see nothing suspicious here,” she said. “Do you Owen?”

“Nothing,” he replied without hesitation.

Patton grinned at them both.

Kalani leaned in like she was going to tell him a secret. “Who is it?”

Patton made a show of glanced around like he was hiding it from anyone passing by. Then he shifted around to pull up just the bottom of his sweater.

 A small black paw reached out from the depths of his sweater and swatted at the air.

“Ah, I see,” Kalani said, reaching out to touch the little paw. “Hello, Mittens.”

Patton giggled as Owen poked the cat’s stomach gently through the sweater, making her wiggle a bit and try to bite him.

“Well,” Patton said. “I better be off with my totally normal sweater.”

Kalani nodded and stepped to the side, and Patton was free to head down the hallway to Logan’s room. Patton knocked on the door with their new extra secret knock and Logan all but ripped open the door. “I’m late. I have to go,” he said, darting past Patton.

 Patton smiled, happy that his plan to be running a little late to come watch Virgil had worked so well, even though he felt a little bit guilty about it. He hoped Logan wasn’t late to his meeting, but he also knew that if Logan had noticed Mittens, he wouldn’t have let her into the room.

Virgil was already out of the closet, sitting on one of the chairs. Patton came in and smiled at him. Unlike Logan, Virgil’s attention was immediately drawn to the oddly shaped lump in Patton’s sweater.

“You’re not very good at hiding things,” Virgil said.

 “It worked on Logan,” Patton defended himself.

“Logan was about to rocket into space if you didn’t show up in 5 seconds,” Virgil pointed out. Patton just shrugged, and Virgil tilted his head. “What do you have?”

Patton grinned wide and carefully pulled Mittens out of his sweater. She did not resist this maneuver at all, simply purring. He held her up for Virgil to see. “Ta da!”

“A cat?” Virgil said.

“This is Mittens,” Patton said. He then turned to Mittens. “Mittens, this is Virgil. I thought I’d introduce the two of you!”

Virgil blinked at the cat. Mittens blinked back. Patton thought maybe he should have let them sniff each other from under a door before doing this.

 He didn’t need to worry though, as Mittens started purring after a moment. “You can pet her,” Patton offered. Virgil looked up at him. “Just…” he said.

“She likes chin scratchies!” Patton prompted.

Virgil reached out a hand to scratch under her chin and that was the end of it. Mittens stretched out her chin happy to get the attention and Virgil’s eyes widened at how soft her fur was. It was a work of minutes before Virgil was sitting down on the floor and Mittens was happily kneading his thighs and spinning around in circles to make sure he pet every inch of her.

“I did not understand why people like cats,” Virgil commented. “All I’ve seen of cats is people coming back with bloody scratches from trying to pet them, so I never even tried.”

“Well,” Patton said. “Cats are just like people. If you’re nice to them, they’re more likely to be nice to you.”

 Virgil’s hand paused briefly on the cat’s head, but then continued with the petting a moment later. Patton wondered what he was thinking about, but didn’t press.

“She seems to like you,” Patton said.

“Don’t know why.”

“Hey, don’t be mean.” Patton scolded.

Virgil hands jerked away from the cat he’d been petting and then were forced abruptly to his side in reaction. Mittens meowed, seemed very unhappy with the jostling as well as the sudden lack of petting.

“Sorry,” Virgil said, eyes wide. “What did I do wrong. I didn’t mean to be mean to her.”

It took Patton a moment to sus out what he was talking about and felt a pang in his chest when he did. “Oh, no honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I meant don’t be mean to yourself.”

 Virgil gave him a confused look. Mittens bumped her head against his chin and with a blink, he cautiously went back to petting her.

“Of course, she likes you sweetie, you’re a good boy.”

“I came here to kill the king. I’ve killed before.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I don’t think you ever wanted to,” he said. Virgil seemed to grow very interested in mitten’s ears. Patton scooted over so he was sitting beside him and carefully brought a hand up to touch the top of his head. Virgil sort of curled into him, pressing his face against Patton’s shoulder, but continuing to pet the cat.

 “It’s fine. You’re going to be okay now,” Patton said softly.

Virgil shook his head against Patton’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Patton insisted. “You’ll be okay. You won’t have to go back.”

Virgil didn’t respond for a long moment. “You can’t keep me in Logan’s closet forever,” he said softly. “When his dad comes back, you’re going to have to turn me in.”

Well, that was true, but… “It’ll be okay. No one will hurt you.”

“The kings would be assassin?” Virgil asked skeptically.

“Thomas is nice. He’ll understand.”

“He’s nice to you. He’s nice to Logan. Maybe he’s even nice to the people he rules over, but what am I? An enemy assassin who would have slit his throat if I hadn’t gotten the wrong room.”

 It…it did sound bad when he put it like that, but, but… “Thomas will understand,” he promised, hugging him tight. “He will, and we’ll keep you safe and I’ll introduce you to every single cat in the castle. In fact, we’ll get you a cat to keep as a pet if you want and he or she can snuggle you as much as you want. I’ll show you all around the gardens and introduce you to Mama and help you figure out what your favorite type of cookie is. You’ll never have to hurt anyone again and no one will ever hurt you again.”

 Virgil drew away a bit and shot him a half smile. He clearly didn’t believe him, and it made Patton’s stomach twist a bit. Patton knew. He knew Thomas would be nice. There was no way he’d hurt Virgil. Virgil was just a kid and with Logan and Patton on his side, there was no way anything bad would happen to him. He could see it from Virgil’s perspective though.

“I like her feet,” Virgil said, touching Mittens’ little black paw that contrasted her otherwise white coat. Mittens purred and began kneading his legs again with those paws. “I’m guessing that’s why she’s named Mittens?”

“Yeah,” said Patton softly. “‘Cause she looks like she’s wearing mittens.” Virgil leaned forward to kiss her little head and that little action made Patton’s heart ache for him. He deserved so many kitten kisses. So many.

Patton was determined to make sure he got them.

  Chapter 16

“Well done,” Logan complimented when Virgil looked up at him for approval. It was the first time Virgil was trying to make the protection charms without Logan’s instructions. Logan was of course still in the room in case he had questions and the boy had a written set of instructions next to him, but for the most part Virgil was doing it on his own.

“Now,” Virgil said squinting down at the paper next to him, “we wait for 35 minutes.”

“Fifty actually,” Logan corrected offhand, focused on his own potion.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Virgil said. He grabbed the timer and set it for the appropriate time.

 Then, he stepped away from Logan’s nontoxic potion station. Logan saw him edge a bit closer to peak at what Logan was working on, though he was careful to maintain a distance. Logan wasn’t sure if this was because he’d been warned of the possible harmful substances Logan sometimes used at his experiment table or because he was worried Logan might not want him to approach.

Logan looked up at him. “You can come closer. Nothing here is very dangerous.”

Virgil nodded and walked over to peer at the boiling pot. “What are you making?” he asked.

“I am once again attempting to invent a potion that will reliably remove cat hair from surfaces,” Logan said, glancing over at Patton.

 Patton looked up from the bracelet he was making and stuck his tongue out at Logan.

“I can never seem to find an adequate solution,” Logan said.

“The solution is to accept all parts of kitty love!” Patton insisted.

“Or maybe the solution is to exile you from my room for the rest of time,” Logan muttered. Patton chose to ignore him and go back to working on the bracelet.

“Do you want any help?” Virgil offered Logan.

Logan smiled at him. “I’m actually almost finished with this step and there isn’t much left to do but thank you.”

Virgil nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. He shifted back and forth a few times.

 “You’re well on your way to mastering this potion,” Logan said. “I was thinking that next I could teach you how to make a tracking charm. I marked a passage about it in the book on that shelf.” He gestured to one near the station Virgil had been working at. “Why don’t you go ahead and read that while you wait?”

“The…” Virgil said. “The green book?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “I left a bookmark in the correct page.”

“Um… yeah, sure. I’ll go… read that.”

Logan nodded and turned back to put the finishing touches on his own potion as Virgil walked away.

 Logan finished up his potion up after a few minutes and covered it to let it simmer. He looked over to see that Patton had flopped onto his back, still working on the bracelet and Virgil had sat near to him with the book on his lap open. Logan walked over to them.

“What do you think?” Logan asked.

Virgil glanced up at him. “Erm,” he said. “Looks good.”

“Which option do you like better?”

“…The second one.”

“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.

“Uh… yes?”

“I’m surprised,” Logan commented. “I figured you would shy away from the ones that required a blood sacrifice.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “I… didn’t notice that. I would like to not do that one, please.”

“You didn’t notice?” Logan asked. “Half of the entire first page is dedicated to a discussion of it.”

There was a beat of awkward silence.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “Can you read the first paragraph on that page?”

 He grimaced.

“You can’t read?!”

“Logan, tone,” Patton snapped when Virgil flinched.

Logan took a breath. “I am not upset that you cannot read, but what have you been doing for the past week when I have given you written instructions for the protection charm potion?”

“Not… read it.”

“How have you been making the potion?” Logan asked.

“I just remember the steps, and if I’m not sure I ask. You’re usually distracted enough that you barely notice.”

“If I had known this, we would have done a completely auditory explanation.”

“Sorry.”

Logan sighed. “You didn’t need to pretend, Virgil.”

 Virgil blinked up at him. “Sorry.”

Logan just shook his head. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for. In fact, you are the one who is owed apologies from many people in your life for a multitude of reasons.” He knelt down to take the book from him. “Here,” he said. “For now, I will read this passage to you while we wait for the potions to finish brewing. Later we can talk about changing my lesson plans in reference to the potions as well as adding reading lessons into your schedule.”

“You… want to teach me how to read?” Virgil asked.

 “If you are willing,” Logan replied. “It’s a useful skill to have and opens up many doors.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” Virgil said with a frown.

“If you can memorize an entire potion recipe from start to finish with inadequate vocal instructions, I’m sure you can learn the alphabet perfectly well.”

“Okay,” he replied sounding a bit doubtful.

“And once we get you to an appropriate level, I’ll let you read a book about stars I enjoyed in my youth.” He seemed pleased with that prospect, and Logan smiled at him. “For now though, let’s read this together.”

 “Okay,” Virgil said. Logan opened the book in his lap and started to read. He noticed that Virgil was leaning over to look at the page despite the fact that he couldn’t read it, and so he began to point to the words as he read. His reactions to the words on the page were honestly quite funny when Logan caught them. His nose would scrunch up in confusion every time he thought an instruction nonsensical, and he’d squint his eyes at the words as though willing the sounds and letters to connect in his head. Logan wouldn’t be surprised with his memory if he had parts of it memorized by the end.

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After a few minutes of reading, a light weight descended on Logan’s shoulder. Virgil had settled his chin on Logan’s shoulder to peer at the words. Logan did his best not to draw attention to this fact and shot a glare at Patton when he clearly noticed, sitting up to smile widely at them. Luckily the boy was sensible enough not to squeal as he oh so clearly wanted to. Logan pointed out a picture while explaining what the caption said and then giving a personal antecedent. Virgil touched the page curiously and asked a question about the story before laying his head back down on Logan’s shoulder. They continued in this way until the potion was finished.

  Chapter 17

Virgil’s suspicion was growing. Logan and Patton seemed to have something planned. Luckily, whatever it was didn’t seem to be malicious, at least, Virgil hoped it wasn’t. He truly didn’t think that Patton had it in him to be so clearly excited about anything cruel. He also didn’t think Logan had it in him to be cruel, he was just was better at masking his excitement.

“What?” Logan asked innocently when Virgil gave him a pointed look the second Patton left to do ‘something’. Virgil would almost believe he truly wasn’t planning anything if it wasn’t for the way his lips twitched just a bit at the corners. Virgil glared harder.

 Logan dared to laugh lightly at the expression on his face. “Come here,” he requested. “Patton wanted me to make you pick out a book for him to read to you tonight since, I quote ‘You’ve gotten to read him all sorts of stories the last few days.’ I attempted to explain that it was not purely for fun, but he insisted.”

Virgil grumbled, but wandered over to look over at the books laid out on Logan’s bed, settling his chin on Logan’s shoulder. “What do they say?” he asked.

Logan pointed to each in turn. “Five Dragons and a Flame. The End of May. A Stone in the Meadow. Or you can continue to read The Never-ending Garden.”

 “I want to finish The Never-Ending Garden,” Virgil decided.

“Good choice.”

“Now will you tell me what you’re doing?” Virgil asked.

Logan just chuckled. Honestly, it was like he didn’t know that he had an assassin right next to his carotid artery. “Why do you think something is happened?”

“Patton’s a shit liar.”

“Be careful,” Logan said. “I might just have to tell him you said that.”

“Then I’ll tell him what you said when you accidently dropped the lavender into that potion,” Virgil threatened back.

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Truce?”

“On that,” Virgil agreed, “but you still need to tell me what’s going on.”

 “It is a surprise. A nice surprise,” Logan informed him. He looked at Virgil’s face. “Don’t pout at me.”

Virgil had not been aware that what he was doing was pouting, but he did whatever it was harder.

“Patton would murder me,” Logan claimed, “but I suggest you try that on him the next time you have a chance. You will certainly get whatever you want.”

Virgil sighed and gave up, figuring he’d learn whatever the surprise was soon enough. He chose to flop down on top of the pile of pillows on the floor that had been laid out already. It was his fourth ever slumber party and the first had only been a week ago. He did not know much about slumber parties, but that felt like a lot.

 Goodness, it had already been two weeks. He looked up at the ceiling. He felt safe here. He felt like he didn’t need to watch Logan’s every move as he organized things in his room, but it wasn’t going to last, was it? The king was set to be back in a week. Virgil needed to actually attempt to escape soon. He hated that fact. He didn’t want to leave, and he certainly didn’t want to go back. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d figure something else out, but no mater what, he did have to escape, and soon. He looked over at Logan who was slotting the books Virgil hadn’t picked back into place on the bookshelf. Not tonight.

 There was a knock on the door in a familiar pattern, and Logan walked over to open it for Patton. Virgil sat up to shoot a confused look at the giant thing that Patton rolled in.

“Ta da!” Patton said excitedly.

Virgil blinked at him.

“It’s food,” Logan explained.

Virgil perked up immediately. That must be a lot of food if he needed that to carry it.

“I know you haven’t gotten a chance to try a lot of different foods, so I asked Mama if I could use the kitchen earlier today and made a bunch of different type of food samples for you to try.”

 That sounded like literally the best idea in the universe. These people were very good at surprises and Virgil would not question them again ever for the rest of his life (or, well, the next couple of days he was around them before he tried to escape and either managed it or died a bloody and painful death).

Patton seemed to feed off of Virgil’s excitement, practically vibrating himself as he gestured to different parts of the cart. “We have a bunch of types of cheese and crackers, mini sandwiches, different smoked meats, six types of pasta, and every leftover I could find on this shelf. On this shelf, we have things with hot sauce, things with spicy dry rubs, curries, and things with a lot of peppers. I’ve ordered them by spiciness level so we can what you can handle, and we’ll only go as far as you want. Then this shelf is a bunch of types of cookies, mini cakes, pies, and ice cream!”

 “We are not starting with the sweets,” Logan said firmly.

“But Lo!” Patton whined.

“We do not want to make him sick, do we?” Logan asked.

Patton pouted. Virgil honestly had no preference. All food was good food in his experience.

“Fine,” Patton said. “We’ll start with the cheese.”

They had him sit back in the center of the blanket pile and handed him little portions of things. Some of the cheese tasted weird at first and Patton would giggle at the faces of surprise he made, but Virgil managed to if not like, then tolerate almost all of them.

 Then came the different sandwiches, some hot and some cold and all of the pasta and leftovers. Virgil eyed the plate of fettuccine alfredo long after they had moved on.

“You can have some more at the end if you still have room,” Logan promised with a fond smile. Virgil frowned at him. “You want to try all of the food, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can’t eat an entire plate of fettucine alfredo.”

“Maybe you can’t,” Virgil said darkly.

Logan just rolled his eyes and passed him another plate.

Eventually they moved on to the next shelf full of what was deemed ‘spicy food.’

 “Part of this is figuring out what level of spiciness you can handle,” Patton said. “So, tell us when it gets to be a bit too much and we’ll move on two the deserts. Also, milk helps wash the spicy stuff that so drink some if you need to!”

Virgil nodded and accepted the first dish on that rack.

Virgil, it turned out, liked what they called “spicy” food even though some of it made his nose run a little bit. It was kind of fun to eat them, honestly. Some of them hurt a tiny bit, but they also tasted really good. It was strange.

“I am impressed and horrified,” Logan said when he finished that shelf. “Do you… have nerve endings in your mouth?”

 Virgil shrugged. “Well,” Patton said, sounding pleased. “Now it’s time for the best part! Assuming you still have room.” Virgil nodded immediately and Patton handed him a plate he’d covered with chunks of cookies he’d torn off. He ate every single one of those and then went through the rest of the deserts. Everything was fantastic and he’d like to investigate a few of the cakes once more, but…

He pointed insistently at the fettuccine alfredo.

Logan shook his head but handed it over. “How many stomachs do you have?”

Virgil did not care to respond, choosing instead to shove his mouth full of pasta.

 When he was done with that, he laid back to relax and digest the food, feeling very content. Logan and Patton had also eaten a bit of the different dishes and were finishing up themselves.

“You good there?” Patton asked after a moment of Virgil just laying with his eyes closed.

Virgil nodded.

“Did you like your surprise?”

“Uh huh.”

“It seems he will not be doing any of the other planned activities for a little while at least,” Logan said. “So now might be a good time for you two to read,” he suggested. “I’ll get the rest of the food stored in case we want something more later.”

 “Okay,” Patton agreed. Virgil didn’t open his eyes, but felt Patton settle next to him. Virgil rolled slightly, so his head rested against the side of Patton’s leg. A hand touched softly down on the top of Virgil’s head and Virgil heard a page flip. “So, let’s see. I’m not sure when exactly you fell asleep last time, but how about we start at the Troll Bridge?”

Virgil hummed his ascent.

“Okay,” Patton agreed as he started to read. “‘Melly stepped onto the bridge backwards while sticking her tongue out at Al, but Lydia’s eyes widened as a large looming figure stepped up behind her….’” Virgil listened happily to him read about the four children. He liked this book. He hoped they managed to finish reading it before Virgil had to go.

  Chapter 18

They made it all the way to the big blowout between Al and Melly where Melly got mad and left the group to their fate in the magical garden by the time Virgil awakened completely from his food coma (he’d never actually fallen asleep, or at least he always responded when Patton asked) and squirmed around for a bit before sitting up.

Logan hadn’t been particularly interested in the story he’d heard many times before and was reading a book of his own on Patton’s other side, but he put a bookmark in his book when Virgil sat.

“Want to take a break from reading?” Patton asked. “We can do a bit more later, but we have more than just food and books planned for tonight.

 “Okay,” Virgil agreed easily.

“Great!” Patton said clapping his hands. “We’re going to introduce you to the most fun sleepover party event ever!”

Virgil tilted his head.

“Dress up!” Patton said. “Also make-overs. We’ll do you first and then we’ll help you learn how to help pick out other people’s outfits and make-up. If you want to, of course.”

“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“Yay!” Patton hopped to his feet. “You stay here. Lo and I will get everything ready.”

He pulled Logan to his feet and over to the chair that was the perfect height for doing make-up.

 They set up what they’d need for make-up and then Patton instructed Logan to grab the clothes of his they usually used for this sort of thing out the closet that Virgil wasn’t set up in while he grabbed the pieces he himself had brought upstairs and strew them over the bed so they could see anything.

Smiling happily, Patton looked over at Virgil who had stood up in the giant pile of pillows and blankets to watch him with intense eyes. He looked like he was memorizing every action Patton took as though expecting a test at the end. He was so adorable. A rush of affection and a touch of mischief hit him suddenly.

 “Hey Virgil,” Patton said. Virgil looked over at him. “Can I tackle hug you into that pile of pillows?”

“Tackle hug?” he asked.

“I run over and hug you so hard that we fall into the blankets. I do it to Logan all the time without warning, but I didn’t want to confuse you.”

Virgil considered the offer for a couple of seconds. “Okay,” he finally decided.

“Great!” Patton did a little hop before launching himself across the room. He slammed into Virgil, who apparently had very good balanced because they didn’t immediately fall backwards, but then he seemed to remember that he was supposed to let Patton slam him into the pillows, and so he fell back on his own power.

 Patton giggled when they hit the ground and drew back to look at his face. “I got you!” He leant forward to kiss him on the nose. “Oh wait! I should let you fight back.” He propped himself up on one arm and held out the other hand. “Pinkie promise not to hurt anyone if I let you use the 3rd setting again?”

“Pinkie promise,” he agreed with a grin, linking their pinkies.

“Great!” Without hesitation, Patton did the hand motion to allow the restraints to be in the third setting.

Patton was on his back almost instantly, but he didn’t even have a chance to think about worrying before Virgil pressed a kiss to his nose in a mirror of what Patton had done a moment before. “I got you,” he said proudly.

 “So, you do,” Patton agreed with a laugh. He reached up on of his hands to card it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil leaned into the touch and then practically melted on top of him. “Virgil,” Patton laughed. “It isn’t nap time.”

He grumbled something unintelligible into Patton’s neck making Patton giggle more.

“Sweetie, please.”

Thankfully Logan saved him from the unrelenting cuddling by poking Virgil in the side. “I have finished preparing the stations for the makeover and dress up. You need to get up now.”

Virgil made a noise that sounded like a growl, but he did roll off of Patton.

 Patton hopped to his feet and helped Virgil up before pulling him over to the piles of clothes. “We pick the outfit first, but you don’t put it on. Then, we do your make-up and hair based on it. Then, we get you dressed and do touch ups. Okay? Pick anything you want.”

Virgil looked over the options, eyes going a bit wide. “It…” he said. “It all looks really fancy and expensive. Are you sure you want me to touch any of it?”

“We wouldn’t be offering anything we didn’t want you to touch,” Logan said gently. “In fact, I insist you touch all of it. Beyond just appearance, making sure the texture of the fabric is agreeable is a large part of this activity.”

 Patton picked up one of the pieces of fabric he knew was very soft and offered it to him. He touched it with careful fingers, his eyes lighting up at the feel of it. They had to continue nudging him into feeling the different fabrics, and he hesitated when they asked him to pick his favorite at the end, but eventually he shyly pointed at a dark purple dress.

Patton clapped. “Great! Ooo, I already have some ideas for make-up that will go with that.”

Virgil let Patton pull him over to the chair they’d set up and settled down on it.

29009

Patton hummed. “I think silver and purple make-up mostly?” he said.

Logan nodded and they grabbed a few things from the make-up kit. Logan let Patton do most of the make-up as he tended to be better at the more creative parts, but Logan was the one who gave him the fancy winged eye liner with purple sparkles because he was really good at them.

“You look fantastic!” Patton squealed when they were done. He held up a hand mirror for Virgil who studied himself in it for a long few moments. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really nice,” Virgil confirmed. Patton smiled and hugged him.

“Next hair. We have a lot of accessories. I’ll let you pick from the purple ones.”

 He and Logan sorted through the jewelry box full of different hair accessories for the royal family and ended up finding three purple ones. Patton hesitated a bit over one of them, but Logan picked it up and set it in front of Virgil for him.

“Your choice from these three,” he said.

One was a purple feather with little hooks to braid into hair, one was a smattering of purple and silver stars that would weave through the back of someone’s hair, and the last was a string of silver leaves with purple tips that would wrap up the back of a person’s head from a bun.

Virgil thought for a moment and then pointed to the one made of leaves.

 Patton glanced at Logan who took the hairpiece. “I’ll do your hair right for that one,” he said. “I know how it fits.”

He grabbed the brush and carefully ran it through Virgil’s hair. Virgil seemed to like the attention, leaning into the touch, and a smile flickered over Logan’s face. Logan started gathering the hair together to make the low bun that would be the base of hair arrangement. Patton honestly did not expect him to speak, but then he did as he started to secure the piece with pins.

“This was my Pa’s favorite hairpiece,” Logan said. “Not the father you came here for, but my other one. He died when I was six.”

Virgil went shock still. “I don’t have to...”

“I wouldn’t have let it be offered if I wasn’t okay with you using it,” Logan said.

 Virgil didn’t move as he finished securing the hairpiece. “There,” Logan said when he was done. He picked up the hand mirror and positioned it so Virgil could see. “It suits you.”

“I…” Virgil said. His eyes were wide, and he clearly didn’t know what to say.

“Now,” Logan said. “I believe there are some other pieces of jewelry that would match this very well in the other room. I…” he turned away. “If you will excuse me.”

He turned away and exited through his bedroom door into the hallway. Patton watched him go and then turned to Virgil. “I’m going to go make sure he’s okay, okay?” Patton asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, there’s just a lot of emotions.”

“I can take it out…” Virgil said.

“No,” Patton said. “I think he likes that you’re wearing it.” Virgil bit his lip. “He never really moved on,” Patton felt inclined to say. “This is… a lot for him, but I think it’s good too.” He leaned forward to kiss the top of his head, being careful not to mess up his artfully done hair. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned to follow Logan out of the room.

  Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

 He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

 Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

 “Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

 “I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

  Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

 Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

 He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

 “Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

 “I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

 “That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

 He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

 “Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

 “Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

 “That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

  Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

 Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

 “You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

[evendeadlmthehero]

The Five Year Promise: Gone South (2/10)

Summary: Y/N Stark, 20 year old superhero, makes a promise with a 16 year old Peter Parker after being cheated on, that if she hasn’t found love in the next 5 years, they’d finally go on a date. Then the snap happens. Y/N is gone and Peter isn’t.

Warnings: swearing, angst

Authors note: thank you everyone who gave me positive feedback. The response has been amazing and I’m so grateful! PS- we are now two chapters away (I think) for the snap, so prepare for more angst

Also, if there is any spelling mistakes, please let me know. I finished writing this at 1am :((

Twitter//BuckysLemons (I only have 1 follower lol)

The Five Year Promise Masterlist

Part 3

Based on after Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

“Big day tomorrow,” your Dad said as he walked into the lab he had set up for you. Peter was trailing behind him, smiling at you as a greeting as you smiled back. “Are you sure you’re up for it because I could go instead-“

“Dad I am up for it,” you cut him off, trying to ugrade your suit. You wanted to incorporate your father’s nanotechnology with your quantum knowledge to create a suit that infused the energy. That way you didn’t need bands around your wrist and can shoot energy blasts from your suit instead.

It was like sowing your suit with quantum energy.

“Just making sure,” your father spoke, as he ate from a bag of chips. He looked at Peter, who was staring at you like you were the biggest star in the universe, and smirked to himself.

Of course your father, unbeknownst to you, had always wanted you and Peter to be a couple. Peter was every father’s dream for their daughter; a sweet and pure little boy that can never do no harm.

He had even spoke to you about him once.

“So,” Tony spoke, as he saw you smiling at Peter’s retreating figure after declining Tony’s offer of wearing the iron suit and becoming an avenger. “What do you think of Peter?”

You looked at him confusedly, as you knew Peter for almost two years and your father never even asked that question until today. “He’s great, why?”

“Well I was thinking Pete’s a great kid, very smart,” Tony begun, listing Peter’s qualities. “Very great kid. Massive upgrade from that Loshorn kid.”

“It’s Osborn, dad,” you rolled your eyes at him, before your eyes looked at Peter walking away from the building with Happy following him. “And besides, Peter is 4 years younger. I’m pretty sure that’s Paedophilia.”

“Not if it’s just dating,” You dad pointed out, walking over to you and rubbing your shoulders. “He’s a great kid. Really mature for his age, I mean the kid turned down the chance to be an Avenger! If you don’t give him a chance, you’ll regret it. Plus, I’m pretty sure that kid has an undying love for you. He basically stares at you like your some goddess. You get that effect from me by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at your dad before your mind went to Peter again. You sighed, shaking your head.

If only he was older.

“I’m going to step out. You and Peter can talk about the mission and how apparently, I’m not needed,” your Dad spoke, giving you a little wink. You shook your head at your dad, continuing to play with your suit.

Peter’s eyes glazed with panick as he realised that meant alone time with you. “I-I it’s okay Mr Stark, you don’t have to leave.”

“No, no, no my daughter clearly doesn’t want me,” Tony spoke, grabbing his chest like he was in pain as he slowly walked towards the door.

“Says the one that wanted me aborted 20 years ago!” You called out, a smirk on your face as you worked on your suit. You picked up the half-eaten Apple on your right and took a bite.

“Are you serious right now?” Tony groaned, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the bag of chips. “Because now I found out that you’re actually decent company. That’s all that matters. My dad wished he aborted me AFTER your grandmother gave birth.”

“Yeah because unlike you, I’m way cooler- ah!” You screamed, as your suit let a spark, scaring the hell out of you. The spark hit your apple and then the most weirdest thing happened.

You stared at your apple in bewilderment and so did Tony and Peter.

“I- I-“ you spoke out. Your apple was now full, not half eaten like it was before. You looked up to Tony and Peter, shaking your head. “I think- I think that suit regenerated the apple. Like- like healed it or-“

You stopped yourself, having no idea what happened.

Not knowing that soon, what you discovered, would change the world in a couple of years.

-

You sat on one of the seats at the back quinjet as it flew on autopilot. Usually before missions, you take a deep breath and close your eyes. You think about your Dad, Harry, Natasha and Pepper.

But this time, your mind drifted off to the boy who currently occupied the bathroom and was suiting up for the mission that Fury had gave you guys; Peter Parker.

Just two months ago, Peter was involved in an incident. Your father, and especially you, had told him to leave out of it, it was a job for the FBI. Peter of course didn’t listen to either one of you and still fought the guy who had been selling advance weapons to the community.

“Peter! Peter!” You yelled, as you ran into the building that you witness just collapse. Rubble was everywhere and the interior of the building was no more. You saw a man fly away, but you didn’t chase after him. Your mind was on Peter. “Peter where are you!”

You knew Peter would do something like this. So the moment your father had yelled at Peter with you on his side, you made sure that your little spy fly followed him around (obviously not when it was private stuff like the bathroom) just to make sure he was alright and wouldn’t do something reckless.

So when your little tech detected Peter running away from his Homecoming night in a suit, you of course followed him.

You hear a little groan and ran to the source. Your hands flew to your mouth as you saw Peter on the floor, stacks of buildings on his back.

“Oh no, Peter,” you mumbled, your eyes welling up. You ran to his side, trying to push the building and rubble away from his body, but you weren’t strong enough. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Y/N,” Peter groaned out, tears filling his eyes. “You have to leave me and catch him. He’s after the quinjet-“

“No! I’m not leaving you to slowly die! Got it Parker?” You told him. You sighed, looking around before your eyes fell back on him. “Okay, you have super strength right? Just push it up. Right there.”

You pointed at a specific spot. “If you can move that spot, everything else will move with it and you’ll be free.”

Peter tried but couldn’t. It was too heavy. Tears kept flowing down his face, fearing death. “Please Y/N, just go. There’s no use.”

“No,” you shook your head at him, going to the floor and grabbing his chin so he’d look at you, but his eyes just wouldn’t reach yours.

“Look at me,” you spoke softly. He put a let out a little sob, shaking his head. “Look at me Peter!”

He finally looked at you, and you smiled at him. A smile that told him everything will be alright, even if he was in a shitty position.

“If the world brings you down. If you are contantly pushed and pummeled to the floor. If you ever want to give up Peter. Just look me in the eyes and know I’m always there.”

Peter’s face was filled determination as he looked you in the eyes. Y/N Stark, the girl he fell in love with. Y/N Stark the only girl he would ever learn to love.

So then he pushed.

“Yes!” You encouraged him, laughing in joy as the building on top of Peter continued to move up. But Peter’s face didn’t change. He kept staring into your eyes.

“Look me in the eyes and know I’m always there,” he thought as he continued looking at you.

The door of the bathroom opened, signalling that Peter was done getting changed. You shook the thought of what could’ve happened out of your head and put on a smile.

“You ready Spidey?” You asked at him, giving him a little wink. You walked away before you could see his shocked and red face. “We have to jump out of the plane in T minus one minute.”

You go near the door of the quinjet, opening it. The wind blows your hair as you look at the miles and miles of grass.

“Go in. Save some refugees from terrorists. Get out,” you reminded Peter, rubbing your wrist from the absent feeling of the quantum bands. “Easy right?”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, moving towards you to look down. His fear of heights were getting the better of him as he felt like backing out. “Easy.”

You sensed his nervousness and from the look he gave at the distant between the quinjet and the ground, you knew why.

You smiled at him, grabbing his hand. This made Peter feel at ease, giving you a small smile too. “Hey, remember what I said. If you ever feel like giving up, just look at me and know I’m there.”

Peter squeezed your hand, looking at you with adoration. The intensity of his eyes made you look away.

“I know.”

‘Y/N you’re 20, he’s 16,’ you mentally yelled at yourself. ‘He’s you’re little brother and your his older sister you idiot.’

“Y/N?” Peter asked as he saw a distant look in your eyes. “Are you okay?”

You quickly let go of his hand, and bit your lip as you looked at the ground. “Couldn’t be better.”

Peter nodded, already missing the feeling of your hand around his. As cliche as it sounded, it really did cure his fear of heights for that brief moment.

But now that the warmth of your hand was missing, his fear came back and bile threatened to come out.

“Are you ready?” you asked, as you neared the edge of the quinjet. Peter looked into your eyes, and nodded.

‘Know that I’m always there’

“Im ready.”

-

This wasn’t how this mission was meant to be. There wasn’t meant to be altered soldiers on this mission. There wasn’t meant to be mutants on the scene.

But here you were, fighting a mutant as strong as Captain America himself.

“Peter are you okay?” You asked through the comms, worried about Peter even though you just finished putting a mutant into a coma.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Peter breathed heavily, sounding like he had a fair share of mutants. “We- we need to get the refugees out.”

“No! Not you!” You yelled through the comms, as you marched towards the village. “I have the tech. You go back to the quinjet and prepare for the refugees!”

“Are you serious right now Y/N?” You heard Peter yell at you. He was swinging passed terrorist, shooting webs at them before they could shoot him. “There is no way in hell I’m leaving you with-“

All the sudden Peter went quiet. It was a short secound, when all the hairs on his body stood up. His skin was tingling and he felt his throat clog up.

He felt sick. Sick to his stomach. He felt his lips quiver and his hands begun to tremble as he spoke on the comms.

“Y/N, duck.”

You didn’t understand why he told you to duck. He wasn’t even near you, let alone see you. You don’t know why he would utter those random words.

But then you realised; his spider senses.

You looked to your right and saw a man smiling sadistically at you as he had a gun pointing at you. It all occurred in slow motion, in a span of three secounds.

And in that three secounds, Peter was rapidly moving towards you the moment a hair on his arm stood up. He had to make it to you, he had to. He kept swinging, fighting terrorists at the same time.

He was moving as fast as he could, his mind only on getting you to safety.

But it was too late. You were shot. Right in the heart. And Peter was forced to listen to the shot in the comms.

“No, no, no, no,” Peter mumbled, tears welling up in his eyes as he finally made it to your location. He saw someone with his gun smoking and quickly electrocuted him with his web.

He then looked at you and that’s when he lost it.

Your chest was bleeding and life was slowly leaving your body. You looked at him, blood dripping down your mouth. “P-Peter?”

“Hey Y/N,” he spoke, running towards your side as he picked you up bridal style. He lips started quivering as he wiped the blood off your mouth with his suit. “Hey Y/N, Hey. Keep your eyes open for me, please.”

You looked at him, a smile on your face. “Pete. I-It’s okay.”

Peter shook his head, tears streaming down his face profusely as he struggled to keep his body from not shaking. “No, no, no you can’t say that remember, you said that if you ever want to give up-“

“Peter-“

“To just look into your eyes and know,” he sniffed as a sob raked his body. “Know that your always there. Well, I’m always there. And you can’t give up on me. You can’t.”

“Peter,” you whispered, grabbing his cheek, making him look at you. “Take care of my Dad. D-don’t let him- don’t- you can’t- you can’t let him- let him slowly kill himse- you can’t-“

You stopped talking, as your soul left your body. Your hand fell from Peter’s face as both your mouth and eyes were wide open. Blood stopped leaking from your mouth and chest, and your face was pale.

“Y/N?” Peter spoke, his voice trembling as his hand shakily moved a piece of hair from your face. “Y/N! Y/N no please! Please, please, please. Don’t- don’t go. Let’s- let’s go home. I wanna go home.”

Peter held you tight for three hours.

He had told Karen to get Tony’s little robots to guide refugees into the Quinjet and get them to safety. When he thought it was time to leave you, he couldn’t. Peter could never leave you.

Tony even called Peter but Peter denied it. Of course, this had Tony anxious, but then Rhoudey tried to reassure him that maybe everything was okay and that they can’t call during a mission.

Peter was in hysteria. He didn’t even get the chance to tell you he loved you. Didn’t even get the chance to take you out on a date.

He thought he was going to regret this for the rest of his life.

But then, the hairs on his arms stood up once again. His breath hitched and his heart starting beating erratically.

Because he heard your heart beat.

And now his heart beat had synchronised with yours.

You had opened your eyes, looking at him all dazed.

Then Peter had realised you had stopped bleading for a while now.

And it was all because of your new suit

[hot-mess-choices]

Fixing The Nanny Affair

I’ve had it with this book. I’m not against “naughty” romance novels, but please do them right. I beg you. 

This stuff has been in my brain for a while now so this will be long and messy. 

First up: this isn’t a single LI book anymore. That’s a train wreck of a concept for an app that’s basically an overpriced choose-your-own-adventure book. 

 Who would the LIs be?

Starting with the obvious: Sam, who will remain gender customisable as the “main LI” 

Next is Robin (duh) I’m on the fence regarding their gender but I’d stick with the “whatever gender Sam is” thing. 

Then I’d suggest two entirely new characters:

First addition: An intern at Dalton Enterprise (how this is relevant will follow later on), I’d prefer this character to be female (definitely not to make an all wlw book possible *cough*) but a male intern would also be okay I guess. (Alternatively whichever gender is opposite of the MC)

And 2. *drumroll please* Sam’s wife who’s not dead at all in this new and improved version. ‘Cause that’s how you write about an actual affair Pixleberry, you cowards! I’m so sick of authors using the dead spouse trope without doing anything with it. She deserves to be in this story. However she’d be a “surprise” late entry as it’s important to the story to build tensions. 

Who’s the MC

The MC, gender customisable of course, is still a recent graduate with a degree in chemistry and a passion for science. They do not, however, go to Dalton Enterprise to get a Job as a Nanny, no, they are on their way to interview for an illustrious internship! 

The Story

The story starts of the same. MC has a sexy dream about their (hopefully) new boss, however you get dialogue options to feel very weirded out by that. Not only is that your future boss, they are also happily married as the gossip magazine you browsed the night before suggests. Sam and their wife are a business power couple (think the Beckhams or BrAngelina rip) and get an insane amount of media coverage. 

It comes to MCs attention that they’ve overslept and rush to Dalton Enterprise. A receptionist tell them that they are too late and the position is already taken. Enter Sam and Intern LI who worships the ground Sam walks on and thanks them profoundly for this once in a lifetime opportunity. Sam notices MC and asks if they are the no show, Intern LI takes a light jab at their tardiness; you get the option to flirt with them. (Intern LI is basically something like Jaylen from Platinum or Aurora from OH, but done right and a LI. Rivals to lovers? We love to see it!) Sam asks if MC is still interested in an interview because they might have a position in mind for them. 

The interview is beyond weird with Sam asking for the MC’s thoughts on children, about their living situation etc. Eventually you get to call them out on that and they confess that they only have company funds for one intern and even though the MCs application was a standout and their personal favourite, they can’t hire them. That’s where they propose a compromise: MC becomes their Nanny, as they are in need of one due to recent changes in their personal life, and they get to pay them out of their own pocket. The MC gets the opportunity to work at Dalton Enterprise on the days she doesn’t have to watch the kids.

As you accept you wonder why that is, but don’t dare to question them further as you don’t want to seem ungrateful. That night you come by the apartment to meet the boys, who in this version are a bit more weary of you, but you bond over a chemistry experiment. After they are put to bed you get to the office scene with Sam. You ask when you’ll meet their wife and that’s where you find out what’s really going on here. Sam and their wife are having troubles, severe enough that she packed up and moved out a few months ago. They are trying to work things out but it looks bad. Not only is their personal life affected by this, their relationship is a huge part of their respective public image and even just saying the word divorce out loud makes them see Dalton’s numbers drop into the red. They still keep up appearances, stayed on good terms for the twins but this is just a partnership of convenience by this point and secretly they’re both sick of it. They got married straight out of college, had the twins by their mid-twenties and are approaching their tenth wedding anniversary, the spark’s gone and they crave something new and exciting but are too scared to move on from the known. 

Character Arcs

1. Sam: They are a huge science nerd at heart, they never held big business ambitions and are mostly in it to help improve people’s quality of life. If it were up to them they’d slave away in a lab, happily isolated from the stress of public relations. Years of training went into their suave persona, but deep down they are still an insecure dork. Sam is struggling to adapt to the changes in their life and can’t bring themselves to take that leap of faith and start a new chapter. Their arc would include cutting back at work and focusing on the things they’re passionate about like lab work and spending more time with the twins. With a romanced MC their story would be loaded with tensions of Sam clinging to the past. MC feels like the unfavourable side-piece as long as Sam keeps the facade of their marriage up and the constant threat of their relationship becoming public lingers over everything. In addition there’s the question of Sam’s true motives. Is this just a convenient rebound or more? 

2. The Twins: Mason and Mickey have a hard time dealing with their parents’ separation. Their pranks are more channelled into “parent trapping” them into getting back together. They don’t really understand their parents separation of public and private life and are mostly confused by how hot and cold they are with each other. After their initial scepticism towards MC they see them as a confidant with their problems. MC gets to champion for the twins needs and force Sam and their wife to see how much their behaviour is hurting their kids.

3. Robin: Robin’s been living in Sam’s shadow for all their life and they are so sick of it. Everything they have feels like a constant fight, every snippet of appreciation or recognition is earned through blood, sweat and tears and still not good enough to measure up to their older sibling. They built this careful ‘I don’t care’ façade and have kept it up for all their life. That is until they meet MC. They bond pretty quickly over their struggles to reach unreachable expectations and find a close confidante in one another. Depending on the players choices this will be a friendship or a romance. As Sam’s arc comes to a close with them cutting back at work Robin finally gets to step up and do what they always wanted. They are quick-witted, extroverted, business savvy and well connected. Unrecognised by their father they’ve been the better candidate for the position Sam was in all along.

4. Intern LI: From the get go they aren’t a big fan of the MC. In their eyes, they’ve worked for all the life to get where they are now and feel like the MC was just handed their position. MC and Intern are aware that they are basically two people working a one-person job and are both trying to be the best at it. You get the option to play into this rivalry or make it a team effort. Getting closer you find out that your background isn’t so different after all and that it’s silly to try and hold the other one back. Their love language is still very teasing and snippy but never without an affectionate smile and rare but genuine compliments will come later in the friendship/relationship. A big setback is when they find out that you are living with Sam and they far that that’s an inevitable unfair advantage for you, which it is, but they learn to trust their abilities more than others connections.

5. Sam’s Wife: You’ll first meet her maybe five or six chapters in. Up until then she’s build up to be this perfect, idealised, flawless being. She’s supposedly fearless, fought to be in the position she’s in now, a self-made woman who turns everything she touches into pure gold. As you meet her you are more than intimidated but she’s just pleasant to be around! A ray of sunshine, positive to the bone. You get the option to ask about her and Sam and she sadly has to admit that sometimes people just fall out of love. She tells MC that she needs Sam to move on, so she can move on and nudges them into their direction. Her romance heavily focuses on her fear of leaving Sam behind in her progress but she can’t help her feeling. Her arc in general focuses on recognising Sam and herself as individuals and not two parts of a whole.

This is crazy long already, but just some major events the story would cover:

A company picnic

The ten-year wedding anniversary

A Dalton Enterprise charity gala

Telling Sam’s parents about their future

Insides on the work at Dalton

Time with the twins

 Sorry for the long post, thanks for reading this far!

[applepiry]

Hibiki Shimizu

This is another OC of mine, a very old one, that I tweaked for BNHA!

He was originally a very apathetic “gothic” angel who got kicked to Earth to learn the value of humanity. BUT I really like this version too ;;

I’ll be writing little stories for him too, and involving him in Sade’s story as well.

Name: Hibiki Shimizu

Surname - SHIMIZU 清水 

Japanese 清 (shi) meaning "clear, pure, clean" and 水 (mizu) meaning "water".

First Name - HIBIKI 響 m & f Japanese

Japanese 響 (hibiki) meaning "sound, echo".

Gender: Male

Age: 17 (at beginning of 2nd yr)

Birth Date: 5/10

Sexual Orientation: Omnisexual?

Occupation: Student /  Wants to become a “Doctor Hero”

Height: 5’10 (177.8 cm)

Weight: 170 lbs

Hair Color: Blue-black

Hair Type: Fluffy/curly, gives his hair a nice lift and soft curls (his dads hair is straight as a board while his moms is super curly so he got something in between)

Eye Color: Golden

Skin Color: Medium bronze with a gold undertone

Nationality: Half Japanese / Half Brazilian

School: U.A

Year: Currently 2nd year, but started 1st year

Distinguishing Features: Golden eyes, a mole under the left side of his lip and one under his right eye

 ————————————————————————————————————————

*Hero Profile

Hero Name: “The Singing Hero: Symphonia”

Costume: He wears a doctor's “uniform”, with black slacks, a white lab coat covering a button up shirt but once you get to his upper chest, you see his shoulders, throat and the majority of his face is covered by a neck piece all the way around.

Quirk: Holy Voice

Weapons: Carries small knives and very sharp pencils

Gadgets/Tech: His coat is tech, as well as his neck guard.

His coat is made of a fire-proof and bulletproof material. has wires inside that stretch and stiffen when activated and can make a small crash dome in emergencies.

His neck guard functions as a voice synthesizer, speaker, “everything-proof” guard for his neck and it also keeps his throat warm/cool when needed.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

*Extra

Likes:

Sleeping, Napping, Tea, doodling, listening to music, making music

Dislikes:

Training, being awake, coffee, the cold, terrible music

Habits:

Always sleepy, quiet- doesn’t talk much due to not wanting to strain his voice

Fears:

Losing his voice, but nothing other than that

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Family: 

Dad - Hayate Shimizu (Japanese) (Quirk: Voice Manipulation)

Mom - Eloa Shimizu (Nee Cruz)  (Brazilian) (Quirk: Song Healing)

Little sister - Reiki Shimizu (Quirk: Voice Healing) *3 years younger

**All Deceased

Romantic Interests: None so far!

Allies: Haven’t decided on his friend group ^^; he’s in Class C, but let’s just say once he comes into the school, classes A&B see him a lot.

Rivals: None, really?

Enemies: Any Villains

Physical Weaknesses: He is always worried about something happening to his throat so he has to take great care of it or he’s basically useless. He’s not the best at hand to hand combat.

Mental/Emotional Weaknesses: 

He has chronic depression. 

Does not trust others. 

He’s paranoid and jumpy as hell, but mostly he likes conspiracy theories and horror/occult stuff. 

He’s always really sleepy, as his quirk really drains his energy, and causes his throat to be sore after so much use. 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Quirk

Name of your quirk: Holy Voice

Description: The user can project illusions, heal, or shatter, destabilize, disintegrate, stabilize living and/or non-living things by singing.

Strength: It works extremely well for however long he sings. It works in different ways depending on the style of song he is singing. 

Weaknesses:

It only works until he stops singing-even to take a breath- so it depends on how long he can hold his voice without taking a breath.

He has to really focus on the song to be able to get his desired result, so he needs to be able to focus. 

His quirk uses his own stamina, so any time he sings and uses anything that can effect someone else, he is drained of stamina heavily.

What age did you obtain it: Four

How did you obtain it (what was happening at the time): He was singing to his sick baby sister and she began to glow, healing from her illness.

[earamis]

Crescente, cum Dilectione

“You were bound to Hojo as a protege and mentor. He had trusted you with various responsibilities, some were praiseworthy, some better kept hidden. It was a mutual kind of dependence that benefited both parties. One day the professor granted you access to a whole new part of The Shinra Tower. There laid an unfamiliar territory with a surprise at the end.

One surprise in the form of silver and jade barely two winters old.

When you first saw him, the thought of witnessing the growth of a child who'd eventually change the world for either worse or better never once crossed your mind.”

Sephiroth x reader fic reposted from my AO3 account.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734419/chapters/59792911

Before starting to read, there are some things I want to point out:

1. I gain no profit from writing this. It is written solely for the heck of it, cause I think the fandom deserves more Sephiroth/reader stories.

2. Reader is female, uses feminine pronounce, and can conceive, but in terms of the level of femininity and visual characteristics, I try to be as vague as possible to give more space for the reader's imagination. So, please, visualize yourself as freely as you are possible to do.

3. Reader is called “Praenomen” instead of Y/N. It comes from Latin and translates to “forename”, so reader can treat “Praenomen” or “Nomen” (name) as Y/N, and change it with yours respectively.

4. I will try to include as many canon references as I am able and cater to the timeline of events accordingly (probably some tweaks of time here and there, but not much aside from the reader's part that will be added).

5. Please feel free to ask me anything or point out any mistakes that I make, I will be honored to answer your questions!

I hope you enjoy the story :)

Good day.

Chapter 1: Two Seasons Old

Rain had been pouring outside your room since midnight. The air of early morning hours became colder both outside and in. The corroded, rickety heater your landlord was too lazy to repair could only help so much. Chill seeped from the cracks between windows to invade what warmth was saved inside your blanket. You had been awake for quite some time, and been pretty much reluctant to leave the coziness of your bed. Pitter-patter of tiny raindrops kept knocking on the glass as you watched it with fluctuating sobriety.

The lids of your eyes fought to keep themselves open. Getting some more rest sounded like a really good idea. The clock showed barely six, and work wouldn’t start until nine. Yes. You supposed more sleep would do no harm. You slowly let yourself be lulled back to slumber as you gave up the thought to wake up early and actually do your laundry before going to work.

‘It was raining anyway’, your mind supplied. ‘You won’t be able to dry them.’

So you slipped back to oblivion with the drizzle of morning rain as your lullaby.

Until one and a half hour later, the loud ring of a PHS jerked you abruptly awake. You tangled yourself between the sheets and slipped twice in a hasty attempt to reach it. Swiping your unruly hair from your face, you flipped the device open, then instantly paled to find Professor Hojo’s name blinking on the screen. On what business your mentor called you, you could only guess. It was only thirty past seven, far from being considered late. Strange. So it must be another matter. You quickly fixed your appearance out of habit and cleared your throat before pushing the green button.

“Nomen!”

“Yes, professor?”

“Come to the lab, I must show you something.”

You looked at your state of your partial undress, then at the mirror to find your disarrayed reflection. Your eyes blinked frantically for a moment. “R-right now, sir?”

“Yes!” His curt response left no room for compromise.

You hadn’t got the chance to say anything for he hung up as sudden as he’d called. Stunned, you took a few seconds to process what just happened. But then another sound, this time a small ping, from your PHS broke the silence. You saw a following message from your mentor.

 ‘Bring the first volume on Mako Molecular Anatomy.’

That book was stranded somewhere beneath the pile of your hoard. The old shelf at the corner had been filled long ago with tomes of your past research. Dozens of newer volumes ended up getting stacked on the floor around it to accommodate them in your snug apartment. Under a brief glance, this part of the room might cause befuddlement, but for you, well, they were still chaos alright, but a neatly organized one.

The required volume laid at the bottom of a stack labeled as “mako basics”. You lifted the heavy books above it one by one, wondering if you needed to up your workout routine after all. You were panting like a dog barely halfway. An academic life really made it easy to submerge one’s attention. For years you’d been doing mostly nothing but burying your nose in books and scriptures. What free time you had you spent either assisting your mentor, writing your own research, or to catch some sleep, hence the embarrassingly lame mass of muscles in your arms. After nearly dropping the last book and toppling every towering stacks over, you breathed a loud sigh of relief at the sight of Mako: Molecular Anatomy and Structure Divisions, First Volume.

For fear of risking your mentor’s wrath, you washed yourself lightning fast, forgetting the idea of brushing your hair altogether as you grabbed a lab coat and your bag in one arm and cradled the book in the other. The sound of your rapid footsteps must be bothering the neighbors. One grandmother from somewhere in the lower floor shot you her elderly disapproving look when you rushed past her. You didn’t even have a care to say sorry. If Hojo lost his patience waiting for you, he’d ignore your reports for the rest of the day and that would be problem. He was a man slightly screwed in the head but an exceptional mentor none the less. He’d given you priceless insights to boost your performance time and time again.

You ran through the morning drizzle with the book wrapped under your coat. Shinra tower was just three blocks away. You entered one of the entrance tunnel reserved for employees to avoid getting wetter. A guard saw you panting at the entrance, definitely suspicious toward the disheveled woman holding a bundle of fabric this early in the morning.

“Halt!” The guard approached as you stood still to catch your breath. “What’s inside that?”

Still panting from exertion, you answered with haste, “It’s a book.” Hojo must be wondering where the hell you were at this point. That man did have some crazy standards.

“Show what’s inside or you will be denied entrance.”

“Oh, Shiva.” You unfurled your coat with slight difficulty, revealing the cover of a thick book.

The idiot guard was still unconvinced. “Open it.”

You blinked incredulously, what in Ifrit’s name did this look like to him? “It’s a book! See? Plain old paper!”

When the guard didn’t say anything, you chose to just ignore him and go ahead, but he pulled the strap of your bag, causing you to jerk backward. “What’s in the bag?”

“For real?!” Hojo would definitely be pissed.

“Entrance will be deni-”

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately in a sense, your PHS rang again, and it was Hojo. He was pissed. You swallowed thickly and slid the device out of your pocket. Answering him was daunting, but not answering him meant certain hell.

“Yes, professor?”

“What is taking you so long, you slug?!”

You peered at the guard. “I’m currently denied entrance, sir.”

“What?!” He screeched so hard, you had to distance your ear from the speaker. “By who?”

You looked at what was written on the man’s nametag. “Uhm…. Markus P., sir.”

Hojo spat at the end of the line, “Tell him to let you pass or he’ll be the one passed into my lab.” Then the professor hung up, leaving an awkward silence to hang between you and Markus P. Said man was dumbfounded. You decided to pass on what your mentor had said, then, in a moment of peculiar understanding, his face turned five shades paler and let you pass.

You muffled a thanks.

Down in the lower levels of the tower, was Shinra’s Science & Research Division. The floors was each designated to one specific subdivision. Environmental research would be at the topmost, followed by civil engineering, mako development, bio-engineering, and lastly were Hojo’s personalized research labs. Only authorized personnel belonging to one of the subdivisions might enter. Every subdivision hosted plenty of confidentiality that not all members were permitted to move freely between the levels. You were one of the few who were granted more access due to working directly under Hojo’s mentorship.

The elevator ride was long enough to give you plenty of time fixing yourself. You put on your white coat and combed your hair between your fingers as best as you were able to. Thanks to the early hours, you’d only have to pass three other people beside Markus P., and two of them were overtime workers already knocked out on their desks. Hojo’s labs were inaccessible via the main lift. You had to transfer into a private entrance beyond the common area. The machine blinked green when it scanned your fingerprints, allowing you to descent straight into the professor’s office.

“Nomen. You’re finally here.”

“I’m sorry. I was-”

“Yes, yes.” Hojo waved his hand dismissively, not in the mood to hear your ramblings. “Come here child, and did you bring the book? Good.”

He led you away from the main hall to a winding pathways even you weren’t familiar with. You had the urge to ask where he planned to take you, but thought better. Hojo wouldn’t have called if this was anything but pertained to his research. There was a double metal door at the end of the aisle. Hojo scanned his palm to allow both of you access. You looked around, this was definitely an area you’d never ventured into. Everything about it was unfamiliar. There was an open space with multiple doors on its walls. Several glass windows showed medical facilities and rows of sealed bio-pods. Now you couldn’t scratch the itch to ask away.

“Professor, what’s in the pods?”

Hojo knew exactly what you were referring to. “Those, my dear, are the chrysalis of my latest experiments,” he said. “Let me show you a glimpse of their beauty.”

Your course teetered to one of the door. He entered with you on his tail. From this distance you could see series of numbers written at on each pod. There were about twenty of them connected to one another and by a single gargantuan pipe. Every pod had a small window about on its door, about as high as your head, but the glasses were tinted in black that you couldn’t get a glimpse of what was inside.

Hojo stopped in front of one labeled P-XII-001. He beckoned you to come closed and you did. A panel on the right side of the window was opened. Hojo typed a series of code and with a smooth whirr, the machine came to life. The tinted glass began to set alight, revealing the familiar green of liquid mako. You stood on your tiptoes to try and get a better look.

“Chimeras?”

“Yes!” Yelled Hojo with a childlike glee. “Oh…. Aren’t they exquisite?”

You observed with keen interest. The specimen behind that door wasn’t anything you had set your eyes on before. It looked humanoid with the characteristics of a cuahl – its skin was patterned, extended whiskers protruded from the top of its mouth, and two huge feline ears stood above its head.

“Taken straight from Gaea’s Cliff, I have enhanced its ability to thrive amongst the harsh winter of the north. They are suited to conquer mountainous terrain as they please.”

“Have you made prototypes, sir?”

“I have, and none were as perfect as this one would be.”

Amazing was too degenerative a word to describe him. You always wondered just how he found the time to create this things amidst the chaos of Shinra’s busiest department. Moreover, lately President Shinra himself had decreed expeditions to plant new reactors in strategic locations. Probably half of the Science & Research Division had to be deployed and here was Hojo, managing everything under his thumb like he was merely playing chess. Even Hollander, the Division Head himself, was having difficulties splitting his responsibilities.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He said suddenly, turning the pod back to sleep. “This is not what I had intended to show you. Let’s not get sidetracked, shall we?”

The professor moved along. In deafening silence you began to wonder who else had ever roamed this place. Curious tools and paraphernalia were scattered all around. You thought the winding path would never end, but then Hojo stopped once again, now before a small metal door. He opened it with, surprisingly, a set of analog keys instead of digitalized lock system.

“Now…. I know I need not ask this of you, Nomen. You have proven yourself reliable beyond my expectation. But still, I feel like I must inquire something.”

You stared at Hojo. His black eyes behind the round spectacles probed yours. Aware that you were treading on the edge of something unknown, you hesitantly nodded your head. “Yes, professor?”

His glasses flashed for a moment as his chin upturned.

“Do you like children?”

You needed a moment to let the question sink in.

“Do you?”

“I- I’m sorry…. I fail to see how that is relevant to….”

“Just answer me.”

You cleared your throat. “Uh, I don’t have any particular feeling, or, um…emotion toward them.”

Hojo nodded, apparently the answer was enough. “I suggest you get yourself used to one.” Then he pushed the door open.

Behind it a view you would least expect to be found in the deepest part of a Shinra lab was revealed. The professor had stepped aside to give you better vision. You doubted your eyes for a moment, but as you moved inside, slow on your feet, you knew that the object lying right before you was, in fact, a crib. A baby crib, complete with colorful ornaments and a heap of soft blankets. Such infantile properties were clashing horrendously with the sterile white and grey of the lab. You scanned around it to find even more objects of similar quality littered around the floor.

“What is…,” your words were cut short. As you casted your gaze back into the crib, the previously unmoving lump of velvety blankets had sat up to stare at you with equally curious eyes. They were most beautiful color of jade you had ever seen.

And they belonged to a baby.

“Behold, my ultimate creation.” Hojo slinked past you, waving his hand to the tiny form in the crib. Said infant followed the movement of your mentor with alertness uncanny to his age. “My son, Sephiroth.”

Right in that moment, your jaw dropped. That was…?

“Your s-son…?”

Hojo pushed the rim of his glasses up his nose. His face looked maniacal with a grin splitting it. “And you, Nomen, are the only one besides me who’s privileged to witness the wonders of this being. Give me the book and take him out.”

You absently handed the book to your mentor. He had asked to get…what was his name...? Sephiroth? “Pardon me, professor, but I’ve never lifted a child in my life.” You gawked at Hojo with wide eyes, hoping for leniency, yet Hojo had buried his nose inside the pages. Just like any other scientist and their tomes, he was immediately lost, deep in his own mind. That left you with his round-faced ‘offspring’ alone. The little boy directed those jade irises at you, blinking innocently. That only served to unsettle your nerves.

‘How does one even lift an infant? What if I drop him?!’

Steeling your resolve, for the sake of your mentor’s trust and your career, you lifted your palms toward the child. They were slightly trembling and your back was damp with perspiration. This felt ridiculous in a sense. Sephiroth was just a bundle of softness oblivious to your inner turmoil when you were only supposed to lift him up. And how in Shiva’s name you were going to get used to this, pray tell.

That calm eyes flicked to your hands as you froze in your way to hold him. You swore you saw him tilt his head one side like he actually understood what was going on, and lifted his arms. Either it was an encouragement or a force of habit, you didn’t know. Since the party involved had seemingly gave you an explicit clue on how to handle him, your hands finally landed around his middle. And, boy, was he soft.

A smile inadvertently bloomed on your lips.

Sephiroth was unexpectedly heavy when you lifted him. Or you were simply weak. The living, breathing bundle in your arms offered zero resistant. You cradled him to your chest and immediately the scent of chamomile and all the things calming hit your nose. You’d like to think this was exactly how purity would smell if it had one.

“…the aforementioned properties of its distilled liquid will cause the chain reaction of so and so and such…,” Hojo’s mumbling took your attention away from the boy that had begun to suckle on his own hand. You were considering taking it out but the professor addressed you first.

“Put him on the table.”

You walked to the mentioned furniture and carefully put him down, feeling somehow reluctant. Hojo came next to you, dumping the heavy volume in front of his child. He opened a chapter on distilled mako before pointing a finger upon one passage.

“Read, son.”

Your breath literally stopped in your chest. You made a sound teetering between a chortle and a gasp. The sun must have barely reached a quarter of its course yet today had presented so much anomaly. This infant couldn’t have lived longer than 3 winters and his self-proclaimed father asked him to read, an advanced mako science none the less! What in the world was going on, you didn’t know. Maybe your glorified mentor had finally snapped. He did have some screws loose in that big head of his.

Hojo casted a challenging look in no way you were capable of defeating, snapping you back in place. You quickly realized your slip and was planning to rectify that mistake when an ambiguous gurgling sound was heard.

If jaws could be taken off its hinges like a door, yours would certainly drop to the floor.

“mmako…ditti..aion”

“In Holy’s name….”

The pipsqueak just spelled freaking mako distillation, with baby language!

“…te…a- aometioned poppetie isth dilled…,” Sephiroth made a pause, his nose scrunching in confusion.

“Liquid…,” somehow noticing his difficulty, you unconsciously said the next word. The baby pouted for a moment before he tried to copy you and continue the rest of the passage. You were so dumbfounded, you didn’t realize when the miracle had ended until Hojo patted your back.

“I haven’t described your responsibility yet you’ve done it so well. I was right to choose you.”

There wasn’t a word to describe how you felt right then. Years of assisting research under Hojo’s mentorship had put you up against some of the strangest conditions. But this, by far, was the strangest of strange. You swore not once the thought ever crossed your mind, that you’d be a nanny when you signed up to Shinra’s exalted Science & Research Department, still green and a living proverb of an ‘empty cup ready to be filled’. You guessed there would always be things left to surprise you, huh….

“First of all, I have to remind you that what happens in my lab; my research, your work, and anything pertaining to my son, is of utmost confidentiality. You are to assist me in monitoring the growth and development of this child. To make sure he turns into the utmost prodigy, will be your sole purpose under my wing,” the professor was kind enough to explain only what you needed to hear, as you doubted you’d be able to process much right now. Not after this shocking turn of events. “You, Nomen, are thus now a member of my innermost circle of team. Pack your belongings and move to the tower. You are to stay near my son at all times.”

Your eyes opened wider than the Gold Saucer. Whether you wanted to thank Hojo for suddenly exalting your status and career prospect or sue him for dumping all this responsibility like cold water without consulting you first, you weren’t quite sure. You’d be justified if you sue him for labor extortion. But all was good still. You were the one who sold your soul to the devil when you requested Hojo a mentorship all those years ago after all.

Such was the prologue to your newest chapter in life. It was brusque and unceremonious to a fault. The oath of confidentiality forced you to keep mute. Nobody was to know about anything, not your shock, nor your bafflement upon how to properly approach the change. Your mentor was the only other person who knew and sadly was better posed as an academic than a colleague. He’d try to analyze the workings of your mind before you even finished telling a thing. Maybe, you consoled yourself, maybe some other human being would come into the picture later. Although you haven’t seen any, you were sure there must be more people wandering these labs besides just the professor and you.

At the beginning of the next day, this particular chapter had progressed quite dramatically. You found Shinra personnel moving to and fro your rickety abode with boxes and boxes of your belongings. Mainly consisted of books and clothes, then a small number of trivial objects like your favorite chocobowl with its moogle spoon. There were a couple of low-rank guards supervising the whole process, to which their purpose was quite ambiguous to you, but as they didn’t try to piss anyone off like Markus P., you supposed it was fine. Some nosy neighbors peeped with curiosity, either wanting to know with whom Shinra had business with or wondering if you were up to some shady deals with them. You tried your best to ignore them.

To be honest, the whole affair of moving was inconsequential in a greater sense. You have never felt any particular attachment to your home. There wasn’t much to incite emotional fixation, except, perhaps the memory of peace after a hard day’s work, after shower, buried beneath the layers in your bed. But it was just one between too many discontents accumulated throughout years – for instance, the heater could do with some maintenance. Winters were always arctic. You were gladder to finally break free from an old routine. Taking care of a Promethean scientist’s infant certainly opened the door to new and exciting opportunities.

The professor had prepared an empty room prior your arrival. It was deep down the basement of Shinra Tower, right next to his son’s. Whatever plan Hojo had for you to partake in, he surely thought it out well. Accommodation was taken care of and its basic facilities already provided. The new lodging had a bedroom, a living room, one spare room you planned to turn into a study, private bathroom and a kitchen. Though not by much, the space was larger than your previous home, and most importantly, the air conditioner worked out perfect. The only downside was an absence of windows. Bereft walls gave quite the forlorn impression without any chance to glimpse beyond them and into the sky. This would take some time getting used to, but you would manage. Slum residents beneath the plates had it way worse.

When the last of your boxes had been transported down, you learned two things at once. One, your hypothesis was proven true. There were other people besides you and the professor roaming these lowest levels. Janitors and technicians, mainly the latter, had been tirelessly helping you. And two, Sephiroth actually had another proper, professionally acclaimed babysitter named Eredith. You immediately approached to introduce yourself after chancing upon her with the infant. She had offered her name in return before excusing herself with the boy in her arms. It wasn’t the warmest of welcome. You didn’t mind one bit. Simply knowing that she existed to fill that role had lessened the burden you previously thought was much bigger. As they went down the aisles, the baby in her arms turned to stare at you with his jade irises. You absently waved a hand, which, to your delight and astonishment, was replied with a grabby-hand.

The rest of the day was spent unboxing. You had only a handful of things to be unpacked, except of course, the books. Half were deliberately left untouched for another day of labor. The muscles in your arm already screamed with exhaustion before you could even finish arranging the unpacked ones inside the shelves. That left you with two boxes abandoned in the corner of your to-be study. Everything else was already in place by night. You took a long bath afterward and only after you were sure pretty much everything had been settled, you allowed yourself to relax.

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

You made a humble portion of toast for breakfast to start the day. Hojo didn’t require you until sometime around 10 in the morning. He had told you to prepare a list of basic science textbooks, preferably illustrated, for his son to begin reading. So you made use of the free time to continue unboxing. From this collection alone, you could submit more than 50 titles to the professor. The existence of multiple bookshelves, each one bigger than what you previously had, displayed the diversity of your collection perfectly. The books were gathered into sections of congruous topics. There were plenty to choose, you had a habit of buying whatever writings caught your attention, though when you finally thought about it, nursery rhymes and clean energy looked astoundingly disparate next to one another.

Just before 10, Hojo took you on a tour while explaining the nature of your job. Beginning from the entrance where you first arrived, to the winding halls and the rooms he deemed necessary for your work. He had programmed an almost unlimited access for you. Only one area remained off-limit for some reason. Despite your curiosity, you decided against probing further unless the man himself allowed you in. Sometimes not knowing was actually easier. The ones you were allowed to enter was interesting enough. You even thought to propose borrowing the bio lab for your own research. Maybe later after having familiarized yourself better, you’d ask the professor.

Sephiroth was waddling around his room when you entered with Hojo sometime near noon. Eredith watched attentively from a distance with his bowl of lunch half eaten. The infant had been engrossed by a stuffed chocobo that he ignored everyone else completely. The professor glanced at his son once, dismissing the babysitter with a wave of his hand.

“Pardon me, sir, but Sephiroth hasn’t finished his lunch.” Eredith tried to explain.

“Your time is up, Edith. Just put the bowl somewhere, you are no longer needed.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t leave right away. She gave you a look that could almost be interpreted as a plea. Either she was asking for your help to reason with your mentor or actually hoping you’d continue feeding the baby, you could only stood in silence. The woman received a harsher repetition of the command before she dejectedly put the bowl down on a table. She bowed to Hojo and excused herself. It was the silent frustration on her face that suddenly moved you. Maneuvering with three heavy volumes in your cradle, you called out to her as she was about to close the door.

“I’ll continue feeding him, don’t worry.”

She paused to look at you as if you had grown a wing. Her smile was subtle yet genuine as can be when it appeared. “Thank you,” she said with relief, then left.

“Troublesome woman, that one,” you heard Hojo mutter in her absence. “Sephiroth this, Sephiroth that. Always making excuses for her own incompetence.”

You’d been here barely a day. Everyone but Hojo were still strangers to you. There was no way your input on the matter would be credible, so you opted to make none. You simply headed to the table where the last half of Sephiroth’s lunch was, putting the books you brought right next to it.

“Come here, Nomen.” Your mentor gave you a clipboard. He showed the papers attached to it. There was a table containing multiple statements which had to be filled and sometimes rated from scale one to ten. “My son is unique. He is far beyond his age, he knows how to process more and more complex stimulus everyday as his adaptability runs high compared to most, mediocre infants.” You had never heard your mentor spoke with that level of pride before. “But alas,” he casted his eyes at the sight of Sephiroth not six feet away, playing with the same stuffed animal, “A child is still a child.”

Hojo closed the distance between him and his son. His figure towered over the boy. “He lacks the ability to focus on what matters.” Sephiroth didn’t even heed the other’s presence, still too happily hugging the chocobo when Hojo took it from his tiny hands. For a second there was this stifling, immovable tension going on between them. A battle of willpower between a father and his son. Hojo kept the toy away from him, staring the infant down with intense scrutiny. “Bring the book here.” You snapped out of your trance, scurrying to get the book for the man. He exchanged the book with it. In lack of a better thought of what to do, you just held it like an idiot.

The child looked really upset. His mouth curved downward, his hands made tiny fists where they previously held the stuffed animal, and his eyes…. You thought he was about to cry, but looking closer, those jade irises actually held an entirely different emotion. Never have you ever saw a baby held such anger in silence. Children are supposedly prone to tears and tantrums. Not with him. He, for the second time, looked uncannily beyond his age. It was honestly ironic because mere moments ago he looked exactly how any infant would with the toy you currently had.

“Playtime’s over, son,” Hojo shoved the book closer. He opened its first chapter. “You have so much potential. I didn’t go through the trouble to create you with failure in mind, so don’t waste your time.”

That immovable tension increase tenfold. You shifted in your spot, wondering why the mere scene of a parent scolding his child seemed to bother you. But then again, seeing as the parent was your mentor and his child had the tendency to be creepily uncanny each time you saw him, this couldn’t be considered normal at all, and you didn’t have a child anyway, you wouldn’t know.

“Make sure you don’t miss anything on that list.” He said to you. Sephiroth was still glaring at him from the floor. “All the tool you will require is in there,” he said, pointing at an overhead cabinet. “If you have questions, message me.”

“Should I call Eredith back when I’m finished?”

Hojo snorted. “Just leave after you’re done. This child gets too spoiled with her.”

Like countless times before, you shut your mouth even though you disagreed. That child was independent enough. Hojo just had illogical standards most times.

“I will leave you to it, then. Report to me later tonight.” Unexpectedly, he began to go. You hastily asked the man in panic. “Wha- You’re not staying, professor?”

Said professor sighed with his distinct flair. “I am occupied and will be for some time. The President require me. That’s why I must entrust some things to you, Nomen. I believe you can handle it well. Now, I shall leave you to it.”

Just like Eredith previously did, he was gone, leaving you and his less than pleased infant alone. You peered at him nervously. He was hunched over the book that looked too big for his tiny figure. The child still looked upset.

“Um….” There was that list in your one hand and his toy in the other. You tried to weigh the value of each. As you inspected what was on the list, you instantly thought it was both intriguing and ridiculous.

  PROJECT-S

Report: 07-10-1983

J-01.S1.16817.00599.000.6

Subject Name: Sephiroth

D.O.B.: 05-05-1981

Age: 2 year 5 month

 Physical Development

Cephal

Circumference:

Shape:

Facio

Length:

Width:

Iris color:

Teeth condition:

Brachium

Length:

Circumference:

Flexibility:

Strength:

(….)

The whole first page of the document was all about the boy’s physical growth. There were even 10 pages in total, things were quite normal up to the point where Hojo actually wanted you to rate the child’s understanding of certain vocabularies like ‘cathode’ and ‘anode’. You didn’t mean to underestimate Sephiroth’s ability as he had proven to be quite the anomaly just after three brief meetings, you simply found it hard to believe that a two-year-old had to put up with this level of standard. You shook your head incredulously.

Looking at him now, it kind of answered some of the mystery his uncanny behavior omitted. If Hojo had done something to make ‘his son’ biologically enhanced, he was bound to be different in some ways.

“Sephiroth?” He gave you a scrunched nose and nothing else. The child fumbled with the hem of his shirt under your constant gaze, as if hesitating with whatever he decided to do next. You were about to struck a conversation when his tiny hands landed on the book.

He began to read.

“In e be..begin’in o’ e book-”

“Um…Sephiroth?”

“-a in…indodooction o ele..men-”

“Hey,” you put a hand to cover the page gently. “Seph, stop for a second, yeah?”

He turned to look at you with the most flustered expression a baby could ever muster.

“I haven’t told you my name, right? My name’s Nomen.”

There was silence after your awkward attempt at introduction. He still didn’t say a word, just stared at you with the same expression. You started to wonder if he actually get what you said. The child got tired of looking at you after a few seconds and dived back into the book, but you were persistent yourself.

You plopped the stuffed animal in front of his line of vision.

This time when he looked at you, not only was he flustered, but his eyes also round with surprise. He was visibly teetering between holding himself back or just accept the offering. Almost a minute passed with him freezing up. To your surprise he pushed the animal back to you. His face looked so conflicted it made you feel bad.

You quickly put the toy back on top of the book. “Didn’t you want to play?”

Sephiroth now fumbled with his fingers. His pout was back. “Tis a test….”

“No! I’m not testing you, kid. Oh, by the Goddess.” Your lips turned to a smile. Without even giving it a second thought, you patted the boy’s head. He then froze again. It was unclear whether he felt offended by the touch. Do kids even feel offended? Alas, you began pulling your hand away, but he suddenly grabbed your wrist with tiny hands and put it back on his hair, looking at you with an annoyed expression.

He liked it.

Just like you would with a cat, you petted his head. He leaned into your touch with the same pissed off face, but his body was relaxed. You took the chance to shove his chocobo at him. Fortunately, he immediately accepted. The two of you stayed that way for a while. It felt comfortable. Your heart was warmed up in the face of this unexpected softness.

“I promised Eredith you’ll finish lunch, sooo…before we start everything, let’s eat first, okay?”

His jade irises peered from below your palm. He looked unsure.

“You can keep the chocobo. I won’t take it away. I promise!”

After he nodded, you immediately took the bowl temporarily abandoned on the table. He was nothing but cooperative and you were relieved for it. Sephiroth munched his food with the toy never leaving his hands. You utilized the interval between each spoon to start measuring the boy’s physique. He was quite the slow eater, taking all the time in the world to chew. By when he finally finished lunch, you had managed to fill the first page of the document.

Hours went by unnoticed as the examination process was carried on. He time and time again amazed you with the ability to maintain almost unwavering focus. He actually always wanted to play, sometimes allowing himself to take a toy lying around when your attention was elsewhere. But once you subjected him to another test, he rallied all of himself to it. It was mesmerizing to watch.

Somewhere along the way, Eredith actually came knocking at the door. She brought biscuits and a bottle of milk for the infant’s afternoon meal. The woman didn’t say much to you, she just politely asked to feed Sephiroth again and brought the empty bowl away. Nothing much happened after that. You allowed the boy to munch on his snack while you asked him questions or told him to perform some task.

At some point you came across the question of whether Sephiroth understood some terms written on the paper – the cathode and anode one. You sighed exasperatedly. The child was currently drawing something resembling his favorite stuffed animal, if you weren’t mistaken. You leaned over him, asking just for sure, “Is that your chocobo?”

“Uh-huh.”

You nodded appreciatively. His skill was decent enough for his drawing to be understood. That indicated a capability to understand and replicate the existence of objects around him. You quickly took a note.

“Um…kid?”

“Hm?”

“Can you read these two words for me?” You showed the nouns for him to spell. He studied them momentarily and tried. “Ca’ffode an’ an….”

“Anode.”

“…aode.”

“That’s right,” you gave him a smile and another pat on the head. “Do you know what they mean?”

He shook his head hesitantly.

“Alright….” You thought to yourself the best way of explaining it to him. “Do you know battery?”

“Un…yea.”

“Cathode is the part of a battery that has the [+] symbol, while anode has [-].”

Sephiroth stared at you silently. He didn’t seem to get what you mean, so you looked around. Amidst the toy lying around was a fake gun, colored in bright colors appealing to children. You took it and opened the battery case.

“Here, look, there’s a [+] sign here and a [-] sign. This one is the cathode and this one is anode. The battery has power, it runs to the gun from here to here. Without one of these two, the power is stuck in one side, just like a road that’s blocked.”

“They…’re like ‘oors?”

You smiled fondly, “Yes, yes! They’re like doors. If they’re not set in properly, the power from the battery won’t flow to the gun, just like one can’t pass through a door if it’s not opened.”

The boy was astute. You never had to explain things twice as long as you gave him a good example. Filling the rest of the document became nothing but a breeze. Before you knew it, you had completed the day’s report. Sephiroth also looked bored, the chocobo was back in his cradle as he laid on the floor, his tiny fingers fumbled with its feathery butt. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. This was the first time you interacted with him and you could already see various shades of his personality. At times, his calm demeanor and self-restraint made you feel like there was someone much older trapped inside that tiny body, then there were also times like these, when he behaved innocently like every other child in the Planet did. He was highly intriguing at such a young age and you dared to bet he would continue to be so when he grows up.

Having nothing else to do left but gawk at the tiny fluff caressing a chocobo butt, you took another brief moment to appreciate it before preparing to leave. Your task was over technically, but you couldn’t help feeling like there was more you could do. Then an idea struck your mind.

“Seph, stay here, okay? I’m gonna get something for you.”

You hurried to your room, heading straight to the bookshelves. At the children’s section was a compilation of nursery rhymes and tales. You scanned the titles with keen eyes, finding the one you were looking for right away, then quickly headed back to Sephiroth’s. The boy was still on his back when you returned. You approached him with an enthusiastic smile plastered on your face.

“Look what I’ve got.”

The boy looked at you half-heartedly. He was definitely done for the day. Then he saw the book you had brought. He quickly sat up to take it.

Below the title – Pickle in a Fickle! – was a picture of one golden chocobo, just like his toy, staring at two gysahl greens completely bamboozled. “Chochobo!” Sephiroth pointed at the character.

“Yes, the same as yours. His name is Pickle.”

“’ickle…,” the boy copied. He wasted no time opening it, eyes seemingly glittering with wonder to see illustrated pages instead of black and white passages. You waited patiently for him to start reading. But the moment he saw some passages, he pouted.

You blinked in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“’m tired weadin’.”

Ah…. That made sense. He’d been forced to spell hundreds of words in a day. Some people didn’t even bother to read. The young boy had accomplished nothing short of a feat. You supposed he was justified to call it a day.

“Do you want me to read it to you?”

His giddiness was back instantaneously, “Yea! Wead it!”

So began your habit of bringing children’s books to him. He spent morning ‘till sundown doing his best with the examination and you rewarded him with new tale almost every day. He was always tired by the end that you had to read to him. The young boy listened with rapt attention, sometimes sitting beside you while playing with Pickle – he named his chocobo after you narrated the story, some other time getting into your lap to see the pages as you read.

Eredith started to give you smiles that grew bigger each time you saw her, though you two still hadn’t talked much aside from some pleasantries and formalities. She was always there when you came in the morning, then proceeded to make herself scarce all day long, only coming in once or twice to deliver foods and drinks. By sundown, you’d be bidding little Seph a goodbye. Eredith was already by the door when you exited. You nodded your head politely and let her be to do her job.

By night, Hojo would call you to his office and ask for report. He’d inspect the document you filled every single day, taking notes of certain aspects that he deemed significant. The professor was overall pleased with his son’s progress, seemingly unaware of the new habit you had helped him build. If your mentor knew anything about you adding non-academic books – nonsense jabberwockies, he’d said – to his son’s curriculum, he had certainly done nothing to stop it.

Sephiroth had become much more open to you after a month of constant meeting. He would happily stand by the door every day at 10 o’clock, the time you were supposed to get in. He kept urging you to hurry with the tests so he gets to hear another story. You gladly did as he asked, it was a win-win situation for all anyway. The effects of your diligence was showing and it affected everyone. Hojo rarely spoke harshly to his son nor Eredith, he gave you a raise, and most importantly, approved your proposal to borrow the bio lab for the sake of your own research. He didn’t question your intentions much, simply asked you to not let it hinder your main responsibility with Sephiroth. He only allowed you to use them at night when you were done reporting. Without hesitation you agreed.

Life became much easier than ever before. For once things were actually going the right way. You couldn’t be more grateful, to the professor, to fate, and to the fluff of silver and jade who was the reason of it all. By the time you went to bed, the only thing that came to your mind was which story you should bring tomorrow.

[caligobeltrao]

I for one would love 2 hear ur thoughts on the hannibal novel 👀👀 - bloodybrahms ☺

ahhh thank you BB!! <3 I’m gonna throw it under a cut bc I know people aren’t gonna want my ramblings clogging up their dash lol. 

Edit after I’ve written it: Holy shit this turned into a monster but tbf I did say I was going to rant. I think I miss writing college essays...

Also, I would like to note bc I’m about to bitch, I do still love Hannibal and Clarice and all of the franchise. Hell, I even love book Hannibal because I’m garbage and want to be special. So yeah. It’s a fond bitching. 

Okay where to fuckin begin man... This novel was a fucking Shit Show, my dudes. It was like baby’s first fanfiction. 

Let’s just jump in, shall we? 

So by now, having read both Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs, I know Harris injects of lot of sexual shit into his novels, fine whatever, but the amount of pedophilia is insane. Like, Red Dragon with the grandmother threatening to cut his dick off by holding it in between scissors????? And then we have Mason Verger, worst human on the planet. Like jfc I’ll go into him specifically more later but just. Men. Why does it always have to be sexual. 

Like that time Clarice wasn’t wearing a bra and she wanted to prove to Paul Krendler she wasn’t wearing a wire so she flashed him her tits?? Unnecessary, Harris. Bullshit on all counts. 

Next, poor Ardelia Mapp. So he clearly wrote out her accent in Silence, which frankly reads racist since to me it seemed like he did it every time a character of color was met but he didn’t for Clarice’s Southern accent except for this book when she was talking to Ardelia. Now, that’d be a cool way to show how close they are, sure, but it just... She didn’t show up enough to warrant that reaction from me, plus all the other casually racist shit he throws in. 

Ardelia’s literally there as the wise Black best friend to help Clarice along. She doesn’t feel like her own character, she’s only there in conjunction with her, or doing something for her. She was the fucking valedictorian for Christ fucking sake, she also works at the Bureau but if her department was mentioned it was only once in passing. She was not a full character which fucking blows because she could’ve been so cool. 

And real quick before I forget, I hate how she’s treated in the end. I do like she gets a reference and that brainwashed Clarice sent her an emerald ring and a note saying she was okay, but Ardelia was abandoned by her best friend (that she had lived with) with not even a phone call and they will never see each other again and I think Ardelia knows it. It sucks and I’m heartbroken for this woman. 

I’m gonna touch a little bit on the racism too. Now I’m white and not the most qualified to talk about this shit, but I do wanna mention it because it makes me mad. There’s just so many unnecessary slurs, any POC is more of a background helper character to Clarice than anything or a foil. 

For example, Evelda Drumgo. She starts us off. Badass Black woman who runs a drug cartel. She chooses to shoot at Clarice and risk her baby’s life, and we have Clarice wash the baby off and save his life. Then Evelda’s mother is written as irrational when she slaps Clarice for visiting the baby in the hospital; I get Clarice’s impulse, but that woman just lost her daughter because Clarice killed her. I would’ve slapped Clarice too, even if it was a totally justifiable shot. 

The baby himself is used as a foil throughout other parts, most notably to me when Clarice goes to visit Mason the first time. There are two Black boys from a foster home playing in a room with a camera so Mason can watch them, and it shakes Clarice up a lil bit because of the baby, but it says she’s getting more used to it.

Now this is half and half well written and shoddy to me. It’d be a cool moment, if the whole incident wasn’t nearly completely forgotten for the rest of the book shortly afterword. It could show growth, if Clarice had any growth to show. 

And then the Romani people who are literally just used and thrown away. Sickening. Also very broadly used the stereotypes we hear which Sucks; the three we meet in any sort of depth are pickpockets, one was already in jail and Pazzi used his leverage as a police officer to get her to do what he wanted and threatened to have her baby taken away from her permanently, like it was just bad. And then the man got killed. Pazzi let him bleed out. Asshole. 

The slurs. I could take out all of them and pretty much have the same damn thing. Like I get showing negative aspects of characters and just because a character’s racist doesn’t mean the author is, but with the characters already being as shitty as they are, fully didn’t need it to make them worse. Entirely unnecessary. Racism or the character being racist has no impact on the plot is the major thing, I think. And you can replace that with anything along those lines, like sexist, homophobic, transphobic. It didn’t impact the plot, they can still be shitty, you just don’t need to use them. 

This also goes in reference to Margot being a lesbian. And the transphobia holy shit, it was disgusting. Harris had Clarice think something so cruel and unnecessary it’s like my guy why was that even remotely something we needed to hear. We didn’t. I wanted to stop reading because that’s not my Clarice, first and foremost, and second, this is supposed to be the character we LIKE. And now I don’t like ANYBODY in this damn book. 

And he treats Margot like shit too, and Barney. 

Their friendship was beautiful and great and finally for once something nice was happening in Margot’s life and I was happy reading it, and then FOR SOME REASON Margot goes to shower in the same room as Barney after a workout, which makes no sense, and then Barney tries to force a kiss on her (and he was hard, Harris made that very clear) and she had been sexually assaulted by Mason her brother and ruin the whole damn thing and none of it would have changed any other piece of the novel if you removed it!!!!!!!!! Entirely unnecessary!!!!!! And Barney had the gall to say well I couldn’t help myself like none of that was realistic in the slightest, she never would have went in the same room to shower with him. 

Something you need to do is basically get some suspension of disbelief from your reader and maintain and stretch that as you go, right? Well mine was gone at that moment.

Also side note Margot is basically just there to show how shitty Mason is for the umpteenth time. Her whole thing is lesbian sexual assault victim.

Also heavily implied she was a lesbian because of the sexual assault. And we rarely see Judy, her girlfriend, so. Bad. Bad all around. 

Circling back around to Clarice and how disappointing she is in the books as compared to the movies. Well, Clarice is also a poorly written character. She’s 1000x better in the movie. Hell, she’s even better in this book than she was in Silence, but that’s not fucking hard. 

Pretty much all the characters are so flat they don’t even classify as two dimensional. 

Like sure, maybe we wanna say Clarice didn’t really solve much in the first book and was just handed everything because she was a trainee and that’s what Hannibal wanted. 

Like if you remember the John Mulaney sketch of Delta Airlines where he’s just going “Okay!” and running to the next place he’s told, that’s Clarice. 

Okay so why does she get goaded into all this shit now? She should know better. She should know how to handle herself better. Like she messes up basic fucking shit like clearing a room before untying Hannibal, which was stupid, she seems oblivious to some of the politics at work even though she’s been in the FBI for like 7 years now, she would at least have more fucking contacts than Brigham who died in the beginning and Jack Crawford who died at the end by rolling over in his bed to his dead wife’s side and Ardelia who would be near the same level as Clarice I guess but I still don’t know her damn department???? Like you fucking network. 

Plus after her final fall from grace with the FBI, we meet or are told of random side characters that go no where and do nothing just to say “hey look at my special little girl, everyone likes her and looks up to her!!” Why? Because she caught Buffalo Bill 7 years ago and then never got a promotion or even worked with the BAU? Again, it does not make sense. People may pity her? But a random girl in the lab wouldn’t be fangirling. Starling herself said her career had gone nowhere because of the politics and not sleeping with Paul. You need to show me why she’s likable in her actions not others words. 

We spend more time away from her than with her anyways but Jesus. 

AND HER IN THE ENDING. She was fucking BRAINWASHED????? Bull FUCKING SHIT. He completely ruined anything he even remotely might’ve had in this cluster fuck of a novel. 

Case in point, difference from the movie, Hannibal spends weeks (possibly? it’s left purposefully vague and I’m guessing that’s because Harris didn’t know the ins and outs and wanted his novel done) meticulously brainwashing Clarice, he had stolen her father’s bones and she’s so far gone at that point she doesn’t care, and the whole scene where Paul is getting his brain eaten? Yeah, she happily indulges and when he insults her, she asks Hannibal for more. Fuck you, Thomas Harris. 

And Hannibal’s a Gary Stu, fucking fight me. 

In the movie he either is or he’s tap dancing on that line, don’t get me wrong, but in the novels it’s insufferable because it doesn’t seem earned. The pigs didn’t attack him because they didn’t smell fear on him. No. He’s easily able to drug and brainwash Clarice and take her as his lover. No. Go away. He’s so smart and one step ahead and can manipulate anyone and everyone into doing what he wants and blah blah blah shut up! A character being perfect isn’t interesting even if he’s evil!! We all know he’s never truly in danger because of how Harris writes him and that’s boring!! 

And I personally have a pet peeve where the villain is described as a monster or unstoppable. That’s boring and I no longer care about your story. I know 9 times out of 10 your main character is going to find a bullshit way around the impossible and kill it. Or it’s just like a default personality and nothing else is added to it. And that’s Hannibal. 

I’m on Hannibal Rising now and, spoiler alert, he’s very bland as a character. (Also Harris switched some details in the novel which kinda annoys me like get your own canon right my man but whatever.) The plot itself is pretty fun? I guess? Like there’s action and stuff and I’m enjoying that. But it’s the same set up where Harris’s Gary Stu always wins, like he was 13 in the book when he killed the butcher. Let. Your. Characters. Lose. 

Also even more racist shit but what did I expect really. 

Anyways, I have no idea who I’m supposed to root for in the novel because all the characters are just kinda shitty. It really just boils down to Harris not showing any redeeming qualities or actions from any of his characters. I liked Margot for a while out of spite but she never really went anywhere and the way she killed Mason (btw she sodomized him with a cattle prod to get his semen bc side plot and then stuffed his Moray eel down his throat and somehow I still don’t think that’s the worst part of the novel) just. No thanks really. 

All the random little side plots were also pretty not great. How many time does Harris have to say Pazzi of the Pazzis? Like I fucking get what you’re going for, even if I hadn’t watched the movie I’d be like, “Oh this dude’s gonna get hung outta that window, dope,” the literal first time. Stop treating your readers like idiots. 

And then Margot’s side plot was that the will their father left said she needed a biological heir to inherit because he was pissed she’s gay and we needed the homophobia I guess, so Mason got everything, and she was helping him with the Hannibal shit because he’s pretty incapacitated duh, and in return he would give her his jizz so Judy could be artificially inseminated and they could have a child and get some of her inheritance. I don’t care. It was all very gross, and Mason kept saying shit like suck me off you’ve done it before, I won’t be able to feel it anyway, maybe Judy’ll suck me off you think she’d like that. It’s all gross. 

And I guess this is a good a time as any to finally start on Mason. So a great rule of writing to make everything work better and give your story more depth is to give everyone both positive and negative traits right, even and especially the bad guys? Like, rules can always be broken if you’re a good enough writer, but I believe I have established that Harris isn’t quite there yet, to put it nicer than I have. 

Mason is one bad trait after another. It’s like when Harris was bored of constantly writing about plain ole pedophilia, he threw a dart at a board of horrible things and landed on topics such as: pedophilia but make it incest, extreme sadism, sadism but against children now, and good old fashioned racism! Fucking Cordell was supposed to collect the children’s tears after Mason would make them cry and put them in martinis for him. Realism went out the goddamn door real fast with this novel y’all. Like a fucking Scooby Doo villain over here. 

And he loves talking about being a sadistic pedophile, he will literally not shut up about it to Clarice when she first gets there telling her about his trip to Africa and this portable guillotine he has and just. I get it was probably like trying to make her uncomfortable on purpose because he’s a Freak, but it went way too far if only because it was annoying, not even uncomfortable for me as a reader. I was bored real quick. Get to the shit I actually wanna know. 

And it sucks because of the weird, over-the-top way of how he died, I got zero satisfaction from his death. I couldn’t even be like, “Well at least Margot got her revenge,” because that’s not how she originally wanted to kill him!!! She wanted someone else to extract his semen for the insemination but couldn’t find anybody to do it for her, and then Hannibal, whilst tied up, said use a cattle prod and you won’t have to touch him and when you kill him you can blame it on me, and I’m pretty sure even if she hit his prostate right every time and he COULD cum from that alone in addition to how his body is Fucked Up now, it would’ve been a lengthy, gross, and re-traumatizing experience for her because all she wanted to do was avoid seeing and touching her brother’s private parts again, which I think is a totally fair and rational desire. 

So I have to live with the fact that she was desperate enough to not lose the house and business because of her homophobic father to go through her childhood trauma again. There’s no place in this book that has a somewhat positive conclusion. 

Even the very last bit where Barney has a girlfriend and a ton of cash from Margot, all he wants to do is see every Vermeer in the world right? Well, because Hannibal and Clarice are in Buenos Aires where one of them is on display, Barney gets spooked and has him and his girlfriend leave before he can see it and it ends that bit with he never got to see it ever so he didn’t even complete his dream!!! 

Also for good measure, Harris throws in that Hannibal and Clarice enjoy having sex regularly. For no reason. Just letting us know. 

I know this seemed like just a bitch fest, because it was, but I kinda sorta enjoyed it? It kept my attention at the very least. It’s really disappointing because like I said, I love the movies, all of them, and have since I was little. To see the original not stand up to that image in my mind is a little heartbreaking. Especially Clarice. She was a strong female role model to me, but turns out she’s... just kinda there. And her ending is that of her no longer being herself and getting that agency taken away from her. 

There is a reference to her waking up from a sleep, if she is asleep (that’s kind of how he worded it), that kinda let us draw our conclusions on whether she was just brainwashed into being good for him or if she was willingly going along with this and was in love with him I guess and it felt like a slap in the face. She turned from a hardworking, modest country girl working her way up to the FBI into a female Hannibal. Which on the surface sounds kinda cool because we love luxe serial killers, but that’s not what she wanted or who she was set up to be. And to insinuate that she would even remotely consider choosing that path for herself is at its best an insult to her and at its worst a complete erasure of her background, what little character Harris did set up. It also completely erases my own connections to her, as a girl from a small town myself who has bigger dreams than this and also... a good, strong set of morals. He just tossed that out the window. 

Obviously if you’re on this blog, you like slasher x reader shit, and this is a novel with a slasher x a person, right? So why am I so mad about it? Because the whole point of this blog and reader insert fanfiction in general is that you are taken as you are and loved wholly as yourself and that you are worthy of that love (in a fictional setting, not really loving people who are like this, which I think we understand but I want to clarify). She was not taken as she was. He is not in love with her, she is not in love with him. She was transformed into what he wanted out of her. He couldn’t get her to be Mischa, his first plan, so he made her like himself. And the fact that he was so easily able to do it makes me upset, and even more so is that it’s not written like it’s weird or wrong. It’s written like they’re in love and this is a good thing. 

He may have been going for the classic “everyone is capable of doing bad things” stuff we see a lot, but we got that from Margot already. And Barney, for stealing Lecter’s stuff and selling it. And Paul, and the entire FBI for turning on Clarice, and the kidnappers, and Pazzi, and random shitty side characters. And none of it was particularly well written or made some sort of strong statement. It just was. And that’s not a good enough basis for a novel. 

Anyways, if you made it this far holy shit you’re a saint and I love you, let’s be friends?? <3 Have a good day y’all, thank you BB for giving me permission to ramble. 

[dolcetters]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

repost, don’t reblog

basics !

FULL NAME. Dolcetto Augustus Summerall PRONUNCIATION.   Dohl-CHEHT-toh NICKNAME.  Dol  || runt, fido, spot, mutt, dollop, etc GENDER. cis-male HEIGHT.  5′3 or 160cm AGE. late 30s ( physically appears in early 20s ) ZODIAC. capricorn SPOKEN LANGUAGES. Amestrian & Aerugian ( doesn’t use the latter often )

physical characteristics !

HAIR COLOR. deep bark brown EYE COLOR.  mossy / slate-green   BODY TYPE. athletic, muscular, compact ACCENT.  typical Amestrian / can take on a “southern accent” during stronger expressions VOICE.  even toned / when angry it can become warped, guttural and un-human DOMINANT HAND.  right handed while writing but otherwise ambidextrous    POSTURE.  alert ; stands straight, chin usually tilted up ; good posture ; attentive TATTOOS. n/a

BIRTHMARKS.  small one on the nape of his neck but covered by hairline  MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). carries a katana, wide nose, ( large canine teeth / only visible when grinning or baring them ), ( eyes reflect light / glow in the dark )

childhood !

PLACE OF BIRTH. Yuflam HOMETOWN. Yuflam BIRTH WEIGHT. ? BIRTH HEIGHT. ? FIRST WORDS. "GO!!” ( he shouted, toddling after a goat before it turned & headbutted him )

SIBLINGS. Christopher Summerall ( little brother ; unknown ), Josephine Summerall ( little sister ; unknown ) PARENTS. Augustust Summerall ( father ; unknown ), Maddalena Summerall ( mother ; unknown ). PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT. Both Augustus and Maddalena were very attentive parents throughout the earlier years of Dol’s childhood. As he got older, however, there became more reliance on him to help around the farm and with his siblings. While his relationship with them never became neglectful or resentful, he did find himself taking on the role of a “third parent” to his little brother and sister, and the main helping hand when his father needed assistance with fixing or building things on the farm. There were higher expectations placed on him as the eldest, being that he “had to forge a good path” for his siblings who looked up to him, often being the first impression of the family children at school and around town. 

adult life !  

OCCUPATION.  ?? ( has been wandering since surviving the raid ) CURRENT RESIDENCE.  n/a CLOSE FRIENDS. Greed, Rose Thomas, Kaye White, Sakura Haruno RELATIONSHIP STATUS. single FINANCIAL STATUS.  broke ; sometimes does odd jobs to earn change for food  DRIVER’S LICENSE. n/a ( but he can drive out of necessity ) CRIMINAL RECORD.  multiple accounts of murder (degrees vary), multiple accounts of breaking and entering, theft, kidnapping (only once), fugitive (legally dead)... you should sit down, we’re gonna be here a while VICES.  cobbler, fresh tomatoes, alcohol during bad episodes, completely closing himself off

sex and romance !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.  asexual ( sex-neutral ) ROMANTIC ORIENTATION.  hetero-flexible  PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive  | dominant |  switch  | unknown PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive  | dominant  |  switch |  unknown LIBIDO. previously average. has lowered since developing haphephobia. TURN ONS.  genuine laughter, sincerity, empathy toward animals, respect & love toward those he calls family, a sense of “bad-assery” (you’re not a coward, whether it’s a physical fight or just standing up for yourself or others), intelligence, honesty TURN OFFS. lying, no sense of loyalty / you only care when it benefits you, any form of bigotry, cowardice, mocking him (especially if you know he’s part dog), touching him without asking first, arrogance, cruelty toward animals of all sorts, material concerns  LOVE LANGUAGE.  Words of Affirmation / Acts of Service (to feel loved) || Acts of Service/ Gifts (To show love) RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  will check in on you often / asks how your day is going or was and if there’s anything you need. will absolutely sit and listen to you rant for over an hour if you had a shitty day ( or if you had a great day! ). sticks close when he senses you’re upset. will do household chores / tasks / work so there’s less for you to worry about or have to think about doing throughout your day. leaves a small vase of flowers on the table for you to find. will absolutely kill someone for you if you need him to. 

miscellaneous !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. "Gassed” by Bobby Krlic HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.  parkour & free-running, exercise, sparring, long walks MENTAL ILLNESSES.  un-diagnosed: complex PTSD, depression, severe anxiety, haphephobia ( an anxiety disorder characterized by the fear of being touched ), severely low self-worth PHYSICAL ILLNESSES.  right calf has severe muscle & tissue damage ; color-blind LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. left brain dominant.  FEARS.  failing to protect loved ones, letting those he loves down, physical contact, needles, being tied down, anything resembling a medical / lab environment, being eaten alive ( gluttony ) SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. his confidence is fine for the most part, it’s his worth that’s lacking. VULNERABILITIES. right calf can lock up or ‘fail’ if overworked without stretching or prep. extremely sensitive to strong odors and loud / high pitched / high frequency sounds. can’t see color at all / can’t identify something based on its hue. some foods that humans can eat have become toxic to him. self worth is so low, he won’t think twice about sacrificing himself if it means someone he cares about gets out safe. very much lives for other people ; if he finds himself completely alone, he loses a sense of purpose.

Tagged by stolen from : @alchemic-elric​​ Tagging : this thing’s big so TAKE IT IF YOU WANT IT

[hannahwaterman]

Type and Language 1 - Choosing a quote, planning my project, brainstorming.

Selecting a quote for this briefing was something I tried to get done very quickly so that I could begin making work fast. At first I thought of doing the following quote by Bill Hicks:

“The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it's very brightly colored, and it's very loud, and it's fun for a while. Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, "Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?" And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, "Hey, don't worry; don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride." And we … kill those people. "Shut him up! I've got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real." It's just a ride. But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn't matter, because it's just a ride. And we can change it any time we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one. Here's what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money we spend on weapons and defenses each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.”

It’s very long, but I think it’s a very beautiful and well meaning piece of spoken word. Bill Hicks was a comedian-philosopher, and he was a very influential person in the formative years of my life from about 10 years old onwards. Definitely too young to be listening to Bill Hicks, but hey - his words really stuck with me and I think this quote is a very important one in my life.

I thought I could do something funny like this quote from Come Dine With Me: 

Dear Lord, what a sad little life, Jane. You ruined my night, completely, so you could have the money, but I hope now you spend it on getting some lessons in grace and decorum because you have all the grace of a reversing dump truck without any tyres on.

But ultimately, I didn’t have faith that I would really be able to get excited about it!

I finally settled for this quote by Robert Sapolsky, a human behavioural biologist:

I am not worried if scientists go and explain everything. This is for a very simple reason: an impala sprinting across the Savannah can be reduced to biomechanics, and Bach can be reduced to counterpoint, yet that does not decrease one iota our ability to shiver as we experience impalas leaping or Bach thundering. We can only gain and grow with each discovery that there is structure underlying the most accessible levels of things that fill us with awe. But there is an even stronger reason why I am not afraid that scientists will inadvertently go and explain everything--it will never happen. While in certain realms, it may prove to be the case that science can explain anything, it will never explain everything. As should be obvious after all these pages, as part of the scientific process, for every question answered, a dozen newer ones are generated. And they are usually far more puzzling, more challenging than than the prior problems. This was stated wonderfully in a quote by a geneticist named Haldane earlier in the century: "Life is not only stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine." We will never have our flames extinguished by knowledge. The purpose of science is not to cure us of our sense of mystery and wonder, but to constantly reinvent and reinvigorate it.

It’s very long, so I chose from it the most effecting and important sentences, and I was left with the following.

I am not worried if scientists go and explain everything. It will never happen. It will never explain everything. As part of the scientific process, for every question answered, a dozen newer ones are generated. And they are usually far more puzzling, more challenging than than the prior problems. Life is not only stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine. We will never have our flames extinguished by knowledge. The purpose of science is not to cure us of our sense of mystery and wonder, but to constantly reinvent and reinvigorate it.

Robert Sapolsky lectures on human behaviour, taking information from many different scientific avenues, including biology, endocrinology, sociology, criminology, neuroscience, etc, to build a massive and complex picture of why it is humans behave the way we do, looking at our behaviour through multiple lenses and disciplines, and combining them in order to answer some of the biggest philosophical questions, including questions about free will, about love, about hatred and forgiveness and family. 

He is one of the biggest influences on my outlook towards life and my trauma and mental health recovery, because not only are his teachings grounded in extremely interesting research and knowledge, but they are able to explain and open up discussions some of the most confusing and difficult parts of the human experience. Sex, love, violence, free will, tribalism, trauma, fear - Sapolsky tackles all of these terrifying and wonderful parts of our lives with such grace and poise and intelligence - his lectures have coloured my world with a newfound respect for myself and those around me. 

He delivers this quote or similar at the end of one of his books and in his lecture series, to help clear up some of the biggest fears that people have of scientific knowledge, and it is a sentiment that I hold very dear to my heart. We should not fear advancement and knowledge. It can only enrich our lives, and a better understanding of myself as not just another person in society, but my very own series of complex and intricate biological mechanisms, has completely enriched my life.

I began by experimenting with very basic black and white type designs on Procreate on my iPad. I tend to jump straight into making before I do research, or much thinking at all, because it is often the case that I can come up with some very raw, messy, and interesting visual ideas. The first few attempts I have at a task like this can really inform where my project will go, what I would like to work on over the duration of the project, and what techniques will or won’t help me. 

I often start projects in black and white because it is a very basic and simple building block foundation for the shapes in the work, and makes it so that more complex parts of a visual identity can be added later, giving me more time to think about colours and textures before going ahead with them.

I had fun warping text like this - it makes the writing mysterious and mostly illegible. It did not yet communicate effectively, however, and I had a talk with Sarah to better discuss where to go with this project.

Sarah told me to really think about WHO said the text, and WHY. To ask questions about WHAT I am trying to convey. How will I bring the message of the words to life? How can I use type to emphasise and better explain the language being spoken? How can I use typography as not just a fun image, but a visual tool to really hammer home the intent behind the words being spoken?

Sarah advised me to sketch out “how to quote acts”, how it moves and it feels. Also to question, how do I want people to react to this type?

With this higher level of specificity, I was able to think much more clearly about the task at hand. My plan now was to take certain important words from my quote, and do visual research surrounding them. To really give this project a microscopic view to begin with, I am going to focus on smaller fractions of the text, to begin to build up a catalogue of how those words really feel, act, and speak to a reader. I need to bring into question, how can I communicate better using type? How can I make somebody listen with my typography? How can I use my skillset as a designer to translate information into something visually consumable and interesting to look at? 

Once I’ve done visual research and sketches focusing on the very zoomed in parts of this quote, I am going to try to visualise those in context of Sapolsky’s life and teachings. He started off his practice as a field scientist, living amongst primates, and studying their movements. He went on to combine this knowledge with laboratory work, studying hormones and neurodevelopment in rats and analysing other studies. He now, on top of all of this, lectures at Stanford, and has written multiple books on the subject of human and animal behaviour, for the casual reader and scientist alike.

How can I represent Sapolsky’s life with design? Can I start off the quote as rough and messy and dusty and animalistic, representing the time he spent amongst apes in the jungle - then developing it into something very neat, tidy and clinical like his lab studies are? Can I make 2 different designs to represent these, then overlay them? Use colours to represent the two different stages of his practice? Can I make this into a screenprint? A series of 2 or 3 posters? 

Or could I make a typographic mural to go on the wall at Stanford or another institute of science? A series of posters? A small book or leaflet? An animation? Who am I aiming it at? Over the next few days I am going to collate visual research and express it as a series of typographic works.

[renaroo]

Some Times (Time and Time Again) (3/8)

Disclaimer: Booster Gold, Blue Beetle, and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: Canon shaken not stirred, Heavy canon references to Booster Gold (2009-2011) and Blue Beetle (2016-2018) Pairings: Boostle Rating: T Synopsis: Booster Gold and the rest of the Time Masters are still straightening up things in the wake of the most recent universal Rebirth. But Rip Hunter is still missing in the aftermath, leaving Booster in charge with Skeets, Michelle, and Rani. But there’s a distraction for Booster, one he can’t keep himself from ignoring.

Ted Kord, miraculously, is still alive. And that makes everything more complicated than Michael could have ever imagined.

A/N: So look. First of all, I apologize to everyone who were looking forward to this fic before I took a very long hiatus this year. It’s a weird journey to go over, but basically I became a public school teacher and got a job in the middle of this year and the time flew by very fast. Ironically. 

Does that mean I want to leave you guys hanging for months like that again? No, but stuff does happen. I’m trying to use my winter break to write as much as possible while still getting stuff ready for my kiddos, but priorities will lie where they lie and I’m sorry if that means leaving you hanging again. I totally get if you want to check out until the final update so that you can read the whole fic. Hopefully I’ll plan out better and write it all before posting to start with. So hindsight is.... 2020 you might say. 

Special thanks to @fred-astairs-dark-impulses, @shibascarf, @mcbangle, @spiralcass, sinkburrito, @secretlystephaniebrown, starchaser22. doingsuper, Ithildyn and ivettxwrites for the support and kind words! That means so much to me, and I cannot apologize enough for being one of THOSE fanfic writers which I most certainly am and leaving you hanging for so long.

Little Girl Lost

Rani doesn’t necessarily intend to go against Michael and Michelle’s attempts to get her to sleep. Sometimes, things simply happen and there is no stopping it.

For Rani, it’s the need to make certain her adopted family — her new and most recent adopted family, that is — are still safe, alive, and not leaving her alone again that she cannot stop. 

With her eyes only closed for a moment or two after hitting her pillow, Rani springs awake, ignores the colorfully decorated bedroom that is exclusively hers, and barrels out without so much as slippers on her feet. 

Huffing and puffing, Rani races down the corridor toward the laboratory and kitchen of Time Lab. She only slows to a stop once reaching the disarray of the laboratory and overhearing the close by sounds of Michael and Michelle talking to one another. 

Her heart races despite the calming assurance that she’s not alone. There should be three adults in their home instead of only two, and that causes a pang in her chest she barely knows what to do with. 

Taking a deep breath, Rani glances around to the broken up laboratory and thinks about how upset poor Boppy would be if he was still around. 

Rani bites her bottom lip until it hurts. She hates thinking of Poppy in the past tense. She hates it. And she can’t stop it. 

She has played this game too many times before already despite being so young.

“Rani. I don’t believe you should be wandering around the laboratory. It is still a danger zone for the time being,” the familiar drone of Skeets comes as the tiny bot flies into her vicinity. 

Looking to the golden sheen of Michael’s trusty assistant, Rani can’t help but feel that something is off. Something more than usual for Time Lab. 

“Skeets, would you know if Boppy came back?” she asks.

“Doctor Hunter would likely make himself known to us if and when the time was right for his return,” the robot answers methodically. 

Rani’s brows knit together. “So… you can’t do it?” 

“That is not what I said,” he answers without answering anything at all.

Biting her lip once again, only now more in thought than in anxiety, Rani thinks about Boppy — Rip — and how he would make himself known. 

With a slight hum in her throat, Rani walks past Skeets and makes her way to the large chalkboard still standing amongst the ruins of the Time Lab. She reaches the board quickly and begins scanning the blank slate for any signs of change — any at all. Her eyes fall, rather quickly, to the bottom right corner where a scribbled message causes her heart to race again. This time not in fear or worry, but in precious joy and excitement. 

“Boppy!” she barely musters over her own gasp as she reaches for the board and touches it cautiously with the tips of her fingers. 

Ted Kord is the key. 

A chill runs down Rani’s spine, a thrill overcomes her pattering heart. 

“Boppy wanted me to know…” she surmises. Her eyes squint in thought. It is her corner of the board, where she has been caught a few times sketching unicorns and butterflies. For Boppy to write there out of all the space on the board, surely means the message is for her and her alone in that moment.

And Ted Kord. That is not any name, that is someone very important and special. He is Michael’s most important friend, the one he talks about in his biggest and wildest stories to Rani, and the person whose name comes up the most often in the history books when she searches for information about her dear Mikey. 

Rani thinks, just maybe, she understands what she needs to do. And for the first time since the big explosion, Rani feels calm and excited. She has a direction to go in and it means all the world to her. 

It probably means the whole universe if it’s important enough for Boppy to leave it on the board for her.

“I should immediately tell Booster about this!” Skeets determines in a flurry, beginning to zip off.

He doesn’t make it far in the direction of the kitchen, however, because once he sees that Rani is going deeper into the lab, he changes course.

“Rani! Please, the laboratory is still very dangerous. We haven’t gotten very far in the cleaning process so… Rani. Rani! Michael would not be happy with this. Please return.”

For the first time, Rani thinks she might understand why Michael ignores so much of what Skeets says. 

“It’s not a message for Mikey,” she informs the robot with a prideful huff. “It’s for me. Boppy wanted me to do something so that’s what I’m doing.”

“Whatever this is, I believe it is a terrible idea,” Skeets announces.

Despite her near constant quivering and skittish nature after the explosion of the Flashpoint, Rani is constantly aware of her adopted family around her. As much help as she isn’t in the cleaning and retrieving process, she knows that there are several things Michelle and Mikey have yet to contain.

Like the wormhole in the cupboard.

Rani’s knowledge of theoretical physics was far less than her knowledge about every episode of Zoo Crew Michael had gotten her on DVD. But she did know that one time, while working on the time sphere with Michael, Boppy had shaken a wrench and talked about using wormholes for transport.

And what did Michael and Michelle use to leave the Time Lab when they needed to? Transport.

It only makes sense. Even to her under ten mind.

“Rani,” Skeets is beginning to wind up into yet another speech just as Rani’s fingers brushed the steel frame of the cupboard.

“It’s okay, Skeets,” Rani assures the robot as she opens the door. “Mikey said it would be okay.”

“That is not quite reassuring,” the robot retorts just as they enter into the whitish glow.

Skeets, unfortunately, is wise beyond his years as it turns out.

Rani feels a pressure build up against her body the moment the light engulfs her. It’s pressing on her, stopping her body from breathing or screaming, compacting her, squeezing her. She immediately feels blood flushing to her face, heating up and making her eyes swim in their sockets as tears begin rolling out.

This isn’t even close to what she had been expecting when it came to transport and wormholes. Mikey and Michelle never mentioned it.

“Rani!” Skeets’ electronic voice carries, even as Rani’s ears pop with the pressure.

It’s hard to see with the blurring whiteness, but soon the golden swatch of Skeets is upon her. A silver arm extends out from a slot on his underside and Skeets begins reaching out.

The pressure feels like it is building up behind Rani’s nose and into her mouth, but she focuses just enough to reach out and be snatched by Skeets’ extended hand.

The moment they connect and make contact, the whirling of the wormhole around them comes to a stop.

All the pressure that had built up against Rani releases with a terrifying POP and she not only can scream, but she can hear herself scream as her butt hits a cold concrete floor and slides to a stop.

She’s shaking uncontrollably and her scream is cut short into an unexpected but high pitched wail.

Even with daylight filtering into the room she is in and bulbs on overhead, the new place Rani is in might as well as be a pit with the sudden change from the wormhole’s eerie glow.

Her body is no longer pushing against itself or into places, it feels like jello against her bones, and if it weren’t for Skeets actively holding onto her wrist she might have already collapsed.

All in all, the transport may have taken five seconds. Perhaps not even that.

Rani huffs and chokes on air as her vision adjusts. She knows she’s in a new place, she knows that her transportation experience is over, but everything else is a painful and terrifying reality.

Skeets lowers his hovering and comes close to her line of sight.

“I apologize, Rani,” Skeets says in his familiar robotic tone. “Transporting is not easy on smaller bodies like yours and mine. And without a direct destination somehow directed to it, it can take longer than expected. I am sure with your claustrophobia and neuroticism about destructive forces this was not an easy or simple journey—“

Not even waiting for the tiny robot to finish, Rani flings her arms around his metallic body and draws him in for a a calming hug. She feels his cool siding against her cheek and catches her breath finally.

Skeets seems to sputter in place for a moment, a whirring noise coming from his internal gadgetry.

Then, affectionately, the same metallic clamp that had held Rani by the arm before pats her back.

There is calm between them, if only for a moment.

It ends when a heavy door pushes against its hinges and hit the metal walls on the other side of the room they’re in. The lights immediately turn on, heavy and loud, as a man’s voice carries.

“No, I’m telling you, it was weird,” the voice says as boots walk across the concrete floor. “How weird? I don’t know, Bea, weird enough for me to call you and ask about it.”

The hairs on Rani’s neck prickle and she looks wide eyed into the direction of the noise as she lets go of Skeets. Her heart picks up even more from its already frantic pace as she sees the daunting shadow of the man walking across the room. It has been a very long time since she has been this close to anyone who wasn’t Mikey, Michelle, or Boppy. And the last one had been a Nazi, which means super duper bad person from her understanding.

Her regrets of leaving are building up rather quickly.

“No, I don’t know how you can get a hold of him, it’s just… I’m worried. And…” The man stops and stares right at her and Skeets.

He’s not a tall man compared to everyone else in the Time Lab. Not short like she is, but not as tall. His hair is a mousy brown, sticking up in several places but especially underneath the yellow goggles on his head and over his ears in a way that reminds Rani of Boppy just a bit. His face is full of expression, big eyes and a roundness to his cheeks that makes Rani want to see him smile.

And every wrinkle on his forehead is gaining length as his eyebrows race quicker to his hairline.

“Hey, uh, I’ve gotta go,” the man says  into the phone pressed to his head. “Yeah, I know it’s sudden. But there’s like…. A child in my lab. And I’m mildly freaking out about how weird my day is. Tell Tora I said hi.”

After a moment, the phone pressed against the side of the man’s head stops glowing and he’s left in place with a paper bag that smells much better than Mikey’s cooking in the other.

“Okay,” the man says, taking a deep breath, “strange child staring at me in my lab not saying a word…”

“Skeets?” Rani whispers, turning her head ever so slightly toward the robot without taking her eyes off the man.

Skeets whirs in that happy way that seems like a recorder starting before circling in the air once and making it to Rani’s other side. “Rani, this is Theodore Kord, formerly known as the Blue Beetle. He is the CEO and prime technologist of Kord Industries, begun by—“

“Whoa whoa whoa!” the man calls out, holding out his hands with as many fingers as he can spare extended. “First of all: Skeets? What the hell? I just saw you. Second of all: ixnay onyay ethay eetlebay, okayay?” He then lowers his hands as he shifts toward looking squarely at Rani once again. “Of all the third: …hey? Are you okay? You uhh… seem to be a child in my super unsafe and barely halfway managed laboratory. Which is probably as new for you as it is for me.”

Rani, finally catching her breath, pushes up from the floor. The wheels are turning in her head as she holds the gaze of this mystery man. “Blue Beetle…” she gaps in wonder.

He lets out a grunt of frustration and glances at Skeets. “Now, see? You’ve doxxed me, Skeets!”

“It is not a difficult task, Mister Kord,” Skeets retorts shortly.

“Well, I went to a Big Belly Burger dressed like this, so I see your point! BWAH HA HA HA!”  

Rani is unsure of herself and concerned until that laughter hits the air.

It’s not like any laugh she’s heard before, like a rumbling explosion from deep inside someone. The kind of laughter that can’t wait to escape someone and infect everyone around them.

One time, while tucking her in, Mikey had told Rani that his best friend Ted had the greatest laugh in the whole world.

And, now, Rani is hearing it.

“Ted Kord is KEY!” she remembers the message out loud.

The former Blue Beetle abruptly ends his rumbling laugh and glances toward Rani curiously. “I’m what? OOF!”

Ted’s question is barely out of his mouth before Rani is crashing into his waist, wrapping herself around him tight and squeezing with all her might. It’s the kind of hug Mikey gives her, and she hopes Ted Kord can tell it. The confusion in his utterances suggests that he probably can’t tell.

“Okay, help me out here, Skeets, I’m mildly freaking out,” Ted says.

“Thank you, Mister Kord,” Rani says with jubilation. “Thank you for having the best laugh in the whole world, and being the bravest man, and for being Mikey’s bestest friend ever!”

“I guess this is where I say… you’re welcome? And then ask you your name or something,” Ted responds.

Looking up, smiling the best she can, Rani answers, “I’m Rani.”

“You’re Rani,” Ted repeats. Suddenly, there’s a glint in his eyes and he sets his bag and his phone down on the floor behind him. “Rani… Rani… Booster’s appointment or whatever earlier. And you’re with Skeets. Who is not being helpful whatsoever, by the by.”

“I apologize, Mister Kord, but I am limited by the… uncertainty of many factors currently,” Skeets admitted. “I do not believe Booster Gold has tested the effects of this meeting yet.”

Ted’s brows squeeze together, causing worry lines to surface on his forehead. “Tested? Booster? I didn’t even think he tested the products he shilled for.” He then puts a steady hand on the top of Rani’s head. “And you, pipsqueak—“

“I’m Rani,” she reminds him firmly.

“I’ve never heard of you before. What’re you doing hanging around with Booster?”

Rani blinks through her confusion. It’s such a strange question. And certainly nothing close to what she has thought of before. She’s with Booster and at Time Lab because… Isn’t that where she belongs now? With no planet and no adopted family and no—

Her breath catches in her throat and she’s shaking slightly. She catches herself doing it, but she can’t stop it.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Ted says, lowering down to one knee in front of her and getting to her level. His jovial face is all scrunched up in concern now. “Calm down there, kiddo. I didn’t mean to get you worked up.”

“I am afraid she has been through a lot, Mister Kord,” Skeets excuses.

“Apparently,” Ted says, a tinge of something more scrutinizing and suspicious in the corner of his eye.

Taking a deep breath, Rani grabs hold of Ted’s shoulder. When he looks her in the eyes, Rani says gently, “Mikey takes care of me. And… I take care of him.”

Ted looks her over before offering a soft and genuine smile. “Sounds like tough work,” he says solemnly. “But you seem pretty tough.”

Rani considers the ways her teeth chatter and her heart races and her chest tightens so much and so hard. And she thinks that tough is like Boppy or Mikey saving the day or Michelle defending their home. “Really?” she questions.

“Absolutely,” Ted says. “If you’re looking for Booster, Skeets should’ve told you that you’re late by quite a bit.”

Warmth spreads through Rani’s chest and she feels her shoulders roll back more confidently than they’ve been in a while. She is pretty tough when she thinks about it.

“Say, I actually ran through this grease bucket called Big Belly Burger to get the fries with Booster’s stupid pretty face on it,” Ted jokes, throwing a thumb back toward the brown paper bag. “A joke for… whenever he gets back here. I can’t eat that kind of stuff anymore… but something tells me if you’re hanging out with Booster he’s put you on a strict diet of whatever your adorable face asks or something.” He pauses for Rani’s giggles and, with a soft smile, adds, “So do you want something to eat?”

“I didn’t know Mikey was on food…” Rani admits, grabbing for the bag as Ted Kord offers them to her.

“Wow, I feel like that’s the only thing most people do know about him!” Ted laughs at the irony. “For a good minute there, it felt like it was the only thing I knew about him, too.”

Rani downs the fries quicker than even she expected. They’re greasy and gross like a lot of the food from this century that Mikey complains about. But that’s also kind of good about it in a way.

By the time she’s licking her fingers, Ted is on some strange, boxy device, fiddling with the buttons and lights on it.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“My Justice League communicator. The old version,” he admits. “I’m trying to get a hold of Booster and… uh… figure things out.”

Confused herself, Rani tilts her head. “But why don’t you know already, Ted Kord?” she asks him suspiciously. “You’re supposed to be the key!”

“To what?” he asks right back, looking up from the communicator with a brow on high alert. “And what do you mean by this key stuff anyway? Is that something Booster said to you?”

“No, it’s on Boppy’s board,” she answers firmly.

“Caution, Rani,” Skeets chides, floating in on the conversation. “You must remember the rules. Who knows what dangers can be unleashed on all of reality by testing them.”

With a gasp, Rani claps her greasy fingers over her mouth.

“Hey, now, that’s a lot of pressure to put on a kid, Skeets,” Ted argues. “And what are you even going on about?”

Uncertain of what to say back, Rani bites on her bottom lip and looks at Skeets. But the robot does not seem to be all that concerned about answering.

“It will be best if we wait for Booster Gold to answer,” Skeets assures her instead.

“I hope he brings drinks like we promised,” Ted mutters with a roll of his eyes. “After all this excitement today I feel like I earned it.”

Rani’s tiny heart races in her chest for a moment, regret and worry building up as If she had been taking stock for her anxiety to unleash in that moment. Boppy left her his message, she is doing the right thing. Right?

The excitement in her frame doesn’t have time to subside, however, as a large boom and flash occur in the same room as them.

Ted covers his eyes and tries to turn in the direction of the excitement. “Booster?” he calls out.

“For the good of all reality,” a booming, yet hauntingly familiar voice calls from the light as it dulls around them, “and for the survival of the multiverse…”

Once the light is dulled significantly, Rani blinks and can make out the slick black armor of the tall and imposing man across the room from them. And, more importantly, she can make out the shape and direction of the gun he is holding as well.

“Oh, fu—“ Ted says, getting to his feet.

“… Ted Kord, you must die!” Black Beetle snarls before pulling the trigger.

[lailannajacobs]

Roman Holiday - Epilogue

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Reader gets sick and, in dealing with their cold (that’s taking longer to shake than usual), they begin to see that maybe there’s more to their usual sparring partner than they originally thought. Maybe, getting sick was exactly what they had needed? 

Warnings: all fluff! 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I can’t believe that this series has already come to an end! Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read it, comment, reblog or like, you all always motivate me to keep writing! Thank you to the anon that requested this initially, it’s grown so much and I hope you’ve all had as much fun reading it as I have writing it! <3 <3 

“I hate this.” You groaned, looking at the bullet riddled target sheet.

After six months of working on your aim, it seemed you still weren’t much better than you had been when you had started. Although you now succeeded in getting all the bullets through the body outline, half of those shots were flesh wounds. From this distance, you were a miserable shot. Despite the goal of his mentoring, from this distance, you wouldn’t be able to make the shot to save your life. The only consolation was that from closer, you weren’t terrible.

“Can we just get back to sparring?” You could hear how whinny your voice sounded, but you couldn’t seem to help it.

“And miss the opportunity to make fun of you?” Loki asked from his lazy position against the wall. “Never.”

You put the gun down and crossed your arms. “You know, for all your teasing and arrogance, I’ve never once seen you take a shot. Who’s to say you’re any better?”

“I say.” He said as if it was matter of fact.

“Oh yeah?” Taking a step towards him as he pushed off the wall, you puffed your chest to try and make yourself taller. “Prove it.”

His lips spread into a wolfish grin, “Not a problem.”

He didn’t move and your lips spread victoriously. “Why aren’t you doing anything then?”

He let out a small huff and his head dipped slightly. You found yourself pushing up onto your toes to meet his lips, but he hovered just out of reach, that stupid grin still on his face, “What are you doing (y/n)?”

“You know what.”

“I don’t. I was merely looking down to make sure my laces were tied.”

“Prick.” You muttered.

He chuckled, backing off, and picked up the gun. Within seconds, you watched as five shots only made three holes in the sheet.

“I thought you said you didn’t like guns.” You grumbled.

He shrugged, with fake modesty, “Just because I don’t like them, does not mean that I cannot use them.”

“This is ridiculous.” You shoved past him, though you weren’t all that upset about it, “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He followed you out, silent until you exited the range, “There is.”

“Really?” You were so surprised by his admittance that you stopped short, unable to believe you had actually heard him say something of the sort.

He nodded, but didn’t elaborate. “I thought you were supposed to be headed to the lab.”

“I was. But don’t try and change the subject.” you kept walking, knowing you had work to do in the lab before tomorrow’s mission. “What is it? What can the God of Mischief possibly not be good at?”

This time, he stopped you with a hand, facing you so that you could look him in the eyes. He had his no nonsense look and you almost began to worry.

“I can’t do what it is that you do.” You rolled your eyes in response to his corny answer, but his hands found your face, keeping it there so that he could hold eyes contact. “I’m serious (y/n). No one here can do what you do.”

You sighed, “You’re just telling me this now because you don’t want me to get discouraged about the fact that I’m a terrible shot.”

“I’m telling you this,” he paused and you could tell it was to try and keep the growl out of his voice, “because we have a mission tomorrow and, because the prospect of death does not seem to be enough to keep you alive, I need to make sure you know how much you are needed here so that you don’t sacrifice yourself to save someone else.”

You shot him a small smile. “How could I when I have you watching my back?”

“Exactly, you can’t.” You had rarely seen him look so stern. “So don’t even try.”

Before you could say anything else, he closed the matter with his lips on yours.

You sat in the interrogation room, waiting for the detective that was about to interrogate you. Even though you knew you hadn’t been sitting in the cold, bland room for more than a half hour, it felt like an eternity. The only consolation you had, was knowing that if you were convicted, at least you’d be safe from the mob in jail. A life in jail couldn’t be worse than what you had to do for your employers.

Shifting, you tried to get comfortable despite the fact that you were handcuffed to the table. If they thought you’d be able to create an explosive in order to break out of the precinct with whatever you found in here then they were badly mistaken. There was really no need for the handcuffs, and although you were slightly flattered that you were seen as that dangerous, these people shouldn’t have had to fear you at all. You never wanted to hurt anyone.

When the door finally opened, you looked straight ahead, ignoring the man who walked in. You had been trained not to say a thing and if you could get through this interview without betraying any of your bosses, then you’d be safe in prison. If not, no where was safe.

A square, blond haired man took a seat in front of you and you felt your heart drop. You had been trained to deal with detectives, not Captain America himself. Your heart began to pound and you flattened your sweaty palms on the table. What the hell had been inside that vault? Had they known S.H.I.E.l.D would get involved? And if they had, why hadn’t they let you know?

“(y/n). Sorry for the wait.” He said, looking down at the papers in his hand before placing them on the table.

You barely looked at him and waited for him to say whatever it was he was here to say. You wouldn’t say anything first and if you could help it, you wouldn’t say anything at all.

He sighed. “Staying silent won’t do you any good. There’s enough evidence to put you away for not only this crime, but multiple others as well. Even if we don’t get a signed confession, you’re still going to jail.”

You went to cross your arms but the sound of the handcuffs and the chaffing at your wrists reminded you that you were trapped here, and you would stay trapped for who knew how long you would be sentenced for.

“Your sentence could be lightened though,” he waited to see how you would react, and when you said nothing, continued. “depending on how many crimes you confess to. And of course, knowing who you’re working for, the more you confess, the greater the chance we can get you protection once you get out of prison. Do we have a deal?”

It didn’t take long to think about it. Even though you had said you would stay quiet, you were so tired all you wanted to do was get out of this mess. Protection was what you needed and if it took confessing your sins to get it, then you would do it. Maybe it was also the first step into getting them absolved. So you nodded and waited.

He began listing jobs, going as far back as your first week with the Mob, six years ago. He had everything from some of your more minor jobs, like blowing up a hotdog stand as a diversion, to the larger ones like the multiple bank jobs you had helped pull off in the past year, and finished with this vault job. As he listed the, you realized just how essential you had been to all their jobs. They had managed to pull off a lot of terrible things with you at their side. It seemed like the Captain had come to a similar realization.

“As terrible as your work is (y/l/n), I hate to say it, but your work is near perfect.” He said as a conclusion to his listing.

Unable to stop yourself, you spoke the first words you had said all day, “They’re not near perfect Captain. They are perfect. I don’t put an explosive in use if I’m not absolutely sure that it’s perfect.”

His jaw twitched as if he was trying not to smile. “Then explain something to me. The second series of explosives that went off when my team entered the building didn’t go off completely. Three out of the four explosives malfunctioned and remained intact for forensics to find. If your explosives are always perfect, why didn’t they go off?”

You stared into those blue eyes, not sure if you believed what he was saying. There shouldn’t have been a problem with the explosives you had used. They had been such basic ones, you could have made them in your sleep. Had you truly been so careless? Or had you maybe made the mistake on purpose?

The Captain raised a brow in silent question. Something told you that he wasn’t trying to rub in the fact that he had just proven to you that your work wasn’t perfect, but that he was trying to tell you something else. Something you hadn’t really let yourself consider while you were waiting here.

Had you subconsciously thwarted their plans, knowing you couldn’t do it anymore? Had that been your silent rebellion, knowing that getting caught was the safest way for you to make it out? The corner of his mouth twitched as he saw the thought dawn on you.

“I can’t explain what happened. But I stand by the fact that I don’t put imperfect explosions into use.”  You said, confirming his thoughts without saying anything that would damn you with the mob.

“That’s what I thought. Thank you (y/l/n).” He stood up and walked to the door, but you couldn’t let him leave.

Something he had said had been bothering you and you couldn’t let him leave without knowing. The wait would eat you alive, especially if you had to wait to talk to another person before getting your answer.

“You said your team came in while the explosion happened.”

He paused without turning back, waiting to see where you were going to go with the statement.

“Are they all okay? Your team I mean.”

He turned, a strange look on his face. “They’re all fine, thanks to their enhanced abilities.”

You let out a sigh and sat back in the chair, resigned to wait for whoever would release you, but he didn’t leave.

“They’re also all alive because only one of the four explosions went off.”

He walked out the door and you closed your eyes, unable to believe that somehow, you hadn’t killed anyone. For the first time you had messed up an explosion, but maybe, just maybe, you had known exactly what you were doing. Despite sitting in an interrogation room, you had never been more relieved in your life.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you could hear and speak to me through your illusions?” You asked, as you both made your way to the next explosion point.

So far the mission had gone off without a hitch, and there was enough time for you to get to the second location that, to anyone in the busy city, it looked like you were simply taking a stroll with a handsome man in a dark suit.

“I wanted to give you some space,” He said, his hands jammed into his pockets, “And I was afraid to ruin your concentration.”

You laughed, “so you just spied on me in silence like some kind of creep?”

He shot you a deadpan look. “No. And if I hadn’t been, I believe you would have been dead. I also believe you still have not thanked me for that either.”

“What can I say, manners aren’t my strong suit.” You turned the corner into a secluded alley, where you would wait for the signal. “And I don’t think I can accurately thank you for that when you’re not actually here.” You answered with a wink.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, “Oh but I am”

“Loki!” You practically shouted, your heart dropping in your chest, “ How could you be so reckless! If you’re here, than who the hell is with Wanda and Clint?”

Moving closer, you went to slap him on the chest, but your hand went right through, causing you to stumble. His lips spread into a wolfish grin and the sound of his chuckling filled the alley.

“I’m not here of course.” He replied, his eyes alight with mischief. “I’m with them.”

You crossed your arms, trying your hardest to keep a smile of relief off your face. “You’re an idiot.”

“I think you’re mistaking idiot with clever.” He said as his image began to fade.

“I know I’m not” you mumbled, getting ready to detonate.

You could feel your excitement growing. This explosion was a couple one that would make one hell of a show and you were the one to start it in less than a minute.

“(y/n), don’t mess up.” He teased, echoing the words he had said on your first mission.

Your shook your head with a little laugh and the last thing you saw before the image disappeared completely was that stupid little smirk on his face.

You still couldn’t believe how you had gotten to be so lucky.