#that kiddo means the world to me too my parent instincts kick in

[aesthetic-gem]

i’ve always said q!bbh is a character who chooses to be kind. he saw how the people on the island and the eggs chose to be kind to him so he’s kind back to them tenfold. now, as he said it himself, you hurt someone he cares about, he’s also going to return that tenfold. my little grim reaper boy ily

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

But What If, Instead

Decided to give a go to posting my horribly named but hopefully very fun Beetlejuice fic to tumblr as well. This is an au where BJ is adopted by the Deetz family at a young age.

He’s twelve when he’s left on his own in the upperworld.

He doesn’t know he’s twelve, because he’s never celebrated a birthday, but that timeline seems to fit, later, when he thinks back on it. So he’s twelve. His mother has promised him a special treat that day, and though he’s skeptical to trust her, he follows her quietly through the door she’s drawn, the bone white stick of chalk a blaring contrast to the dark hallways of the netherworld reception office. She’d knocked, and the drawing was more than a drawing, suddenly, with white light and noise spilling through into his little corner of hell as it opened, and when he steps through, Betelgeuse sees blue skies and green grass for the first time in his unlife. He’d turned back to look at Juno, confused, curious, his big orange snake eyes watching her, waiting for the catch, for her to yank him back and punish him for being naive, and trusting her, but all the demoness had done was billow smoke from her slit throat, and nod encouragingly to him. He takes another step, and another and another, and suddenly he’s running and laughing and jumping and the air up here is different, but good, and he takes breaths he doesn't need because it feels nice, and he turns to her again to try and entice her to play with him- And the door is gone. He stands there, staring at the nothingness where she and it had been, and realization hits him hard, because he’s twelve, and he’s been left on his own.

He doesn't cry, both because he can’t, and because he knows it won’t change anything. It doesn’t take him long to find them. Pre ghosts. Breathers. Humans. The place is lousy with them, and the smell of them irritates his sensitive nose. He’s a dumb kid, sure, but he’s got some survival instincts, so he hides from them as they go about their lives, strolling around this place, completely oblivious to the little demon now crashing their dimension. Breathers look so weird, all flushed with blood and bright eyed and hearts beating, no signs of death or rot or decay on them. It’s a lot to ask a kid to get used to. The ghosts back home, the ones workin in Ma’s office, tell him stories about the world up here, sometimes, usually in exchange for him going away, and leaving them the hell alone. (Their words) If there was one thing he learned from them, it was that humans, living or dead, didn’t like things that were strange or unusual. He wanders the wilds of wherever he is for an hour before he finds a body of water, and stooping to peer into it, takes a look at himself.

His skin is pale, but not pink. The undercolor is purple, maybe, which he would have thought would be close enough, but compared to the living, breathing people walking around this place, he knows is too different. There’s not much he can do about that. His hair is a bushy mess, sticking up all over the place, but at least the color is currently green. It’s the eyes, teeth, and ears that really stand out. Yellow snake-like slits stare back at him, long pointed ears flick in the direction of distant sounds, and when he tries to smile down at his reflection, those too many too sharp teeth are all he can see. He’s not the best at magic, yet, mostly using it to play pranks around the office (and hey, maybe that’s why Ma left him here in the first place?) but he does what he can. He throws a glamour over himself, and it’s far from perfect, but the three big problems are taken care of. He looks more human than he did a minute ago, at least, and that’s something.

He’s less afraid to take the main paths, after that, and with that worry out of the way, he finds himself enjoying the afternoon again. So, ma left him here. So what? She’s done him a favor, probably the first she’s ever done anybody, because now he doesn't have to be around her just as much as she doesn’t have to be around him. It’s a win-win, Betelgeuse thinks stubbornly, trotting along the winding pathways lined with benches and garbage cans and other silly human things. He’s starting to get a bit tired of all the green when he reaches, quite unexpectedly, the end of it. There’s a big arched sign, and he can’t understand the language written over head, even though he’s squinting and tilting his head. Someone at some point had sat him down and tried to teach him letters, and he’d gotten far enough to read through the first page of the Handbook, but then that person had been reassigned, and was gone, and no one had cared to keep teaching him.

He’s holding his hands up at his sides, rubbing his red tipped claws against the palms of his hands, top teeth biting over his bottom lip, head tilted to one side in an extreme, when he hears a snort and then a soft giggle.

There’s a woman standing in front of him. Her hair is a sunny yellow color, but her clothing is dark and dramatic, and there are roosting bats dangling from her ears. She’s laughing at him. They stare at each other for a long moment, her hand raised in front of her mouth, her eyes crinkled pleasantly at the corners, and he finally breaks the silence by pointing at the sign, and speaking. “Wazzat say?” She blinks in surprise at his grating little voice, and then glances back at the sign. “Krap Lartnec,” she tells him. “Which is flipped around and backwards for “Central Park.” He’s been staring at the sign the wrong way. Of course. He feels his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “Oh. Got it. Park. Right, yeah.” She lets out another laugh, and it’s so different from the sounds his mother makes when she’s guffawing at him, shaming him, that it almost doesn’t register as a laugh at first. There’s no cruelty to it, just amusement, and maybe curiosity. “Are you here alone?” she asks him, and he shrugs easily. “I guess.” She moves closer to him, cautiously, like he’s going to bite her, or bolt, but he doesn’t really feel the need to be worried over one breather. He knows he could rip out her throat if he needs to. The glamour only hides his demonic features, not takes them away. He’s still plenty capable of taking care of himself. “Where are your parents?” She's crouched down next to him now, one knee on the pavement, big brown eyes all sweet and worried, and he shrugs again. “Don’t have a dad. Mom’s downstairs.” She squints at that, and he gestures down with a pointed red claw tip. “Ya know. Downstairs.” The way he emphasizes it is meaningful, and when her eyes show understanding, he assumes she gets it. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be. I’m havin’ a good time.”

That doesn’t seem to be what she expects, but she just nods thoughtfully. “Are you staying someplace?” He can’t, for the undeath of him, figure out why she’s asking, and why she cares. He shrugs again, because things feel better in threes, and says vaguely, “I guess I’m stayin’ here.” That also doesn’t seem to be a good answer. “You can’t stay in the park overnight. There’s creeps around here.” He bites back the urge to explain that he’s the creepiest thing here, because suddenly she’s taking his hand, and she feels cool to the touch. “Good god, kiddo, you’re burning up!” she puts her other hand on his forehead, all the play gone from her voice, clearly concerned. “You might have a fever. Listen…” she worries her bottom lip with her teeth, smudging the dark color there, before she makes a decision. “Why don’t you come home with me? I’ll give you something to eat, make sure you’re alright, and we’ll figure out what to do from there, okay?” He isn’t sick, and he’s pretty sure he can’t get sick. It’s the hellfire in his veins that makes him hot, because he’s not like her, not even close, but the idea of following her seems like a fine one to him, so he just nods. “Kay. You got bugs where you live?” She snorts again, and stands, brushing off her dark, rose patterned tights. “Sure, what New York apartment doesn’t have a few roaches lurking around. You like bugs?” “Yeah, I like em. They’re crunchy an’ they skitter around an’ stuff.” “Yeah,” she agrees, nodding thoughtfully. “Bugs kick ass.” It’s his turn to snort, and then laugh, because she’d sounded so serious that it strikes him as funny. His hand is still in her’s, and she gives it a squeeze. “What’s your name, little buddy?” “Betelguese.” He expects a pause, or a comment, because no newly dead has ever heard his name without wrinkling their nose and looking vaguely sick, but her smile just grows wider. “Far out. I’m Emily.” And hand in hand, they leave the park.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Beetlejuice decides quickly Emily might be the nicest breather who ever breathed. It’s a decision he makes only moments after they’ve left the park. Normally he’d be talking, and talking a lot, and his ma might throw something at him, a curse or a bottle, to try and shut him up. So he’s giving silence a try, here, even though it feels like it hangs like a weight around his neck. But Emily is the one instead filling the silence with sound, and he’s never had such unfiltered attention from an adult before. She’s talking about the park, then his hair, then his name, and everything she says is just… sunshine. She likes his hair. She likes his name. She even likes the loose fitting and filthy black and white striped shirt he’s got on, she says it’s deadlyvoo, whatever the hell that means, but it must be good, because Emily said it.

They’re walking down the street, his little hand still in her’s, when a smell hits his sensitive nose. It’s unlike anything he’s ever smelled before and if he wasn't tethered to her, he would have floated after it. As it is, he does feel his feet lift off the ground briefly, and he has to remind his body to obey gravity, before someone notices. Luckily, Emily only sees part of his reaction, namely the way he’s sniffing the air like a dog and drooling. “Hotdogs!” she grins, and she leads him over towards the smell before he can even ask what that word means.

There’s a little cart set up, and a short, fat woman is fussing over a fire. He quickly finds the source of the smell, those little weird shapes of meat she’s turning over, and he goes to reach for one, only stopped by Emily’s other hand over his. “Not so fast, little bug. To unlock lunch, you need the power of capitalism.” She nods gravely. He nods back, clueless, but after a moment he has the source of the smell in his hands, and he wastes no time in scarfing it down. It’s good. He wants more, instantly, and tugs at her sleeve. Emily has hardly put her wallet away before it’s back out again, and she’s bought two more hotdogs. He eats them just as quickly, but before he can ask for more he realizes she’s led him away from the woman and her meats and her fire. Clever breather.

The walk to her home isn’t so bad, and it gives him time to take in his surroundings. The park had been jarring enough- what little plants grow in the netherworld are perpetually gray and withered, sad little scraggly weeds that struggle and choke each other out for the privilege of what miniscule sunshine permeates through the perpetual overcast. But there’s enough sunlight and water and everything to go around here, and it all grows green and vibrant. The city feels the same way, sort of. Like there’s plenty of space to stretch out and grow, and so they did. In the netherworld, everything is short and cramped, but bigger on the inside, with long, winding hallways meant to confuse and trap the dead. The buildings here are so tall looking up at them makes him dizzy, but he hardly has time to admire them before Emily is guiding him this way and that, and finally, to another door. She presses a button and they’re let inside, and he experiences another first as they ride the elevator up a few floors.

They ride the first few floors up in relative silence, until - “Get ready to jump!” Emily says suddenly, crouching, and he follows her lead, and jumps when she does. There’s a brief moment of weightlessness before gravity catches up with them, and their feet hit the elevator floor again, in time for the doors to open. “Good job, Beetlejuice!” she praises, pushing that long sun colored hair out of her face, and he beams up at her. “Feels like flyin, kinda!” “Right?” she enthuses loudly, and he’s about to ask her how a breather knows what flying feels like, but a door down the hall opens, and the biggest man Betelguese has ever seen steps out. “Thought I heard you rattling the elevator,” he’s chiding Emily, who only gives her snort and smile in return. “Lydia isn’t even with you, do you really play that game when you’re-” his eyes fall on Betelgeuse. “Alone?”

“Charles, I made a new friend!” Emily tells him simply, leading the little demon into their apartment. The interior is dim, but he can see fine. He knows his amber eyes are glowing a little in the gloom, and he closes them, just for a moment, as Emily leads him down the hall and into a sunny, well lit kitchen. The big man, Charles, is tailing behind, looking mystified. “Where on earth did you find him?” a hint of nerves creeps into the breather’s voice. “You didn’t… steal him.. Right?” “Charles!” Emily laughs, like it’s an absurd question. Betelgeuse can’t tell if it is or not. Emily doesn’t seem like a child snatching witch, but he doesn’t know enough about such things to be sure. “I didn’t steal him,” she clarifies, busying herself with getting the boy a cup of ice water, and stopping by for a moment to touch the back of her hand to his forehead again. “I found him wandering around Central Park. He said he doesn’t have any folks, and he was all alone, and he feels feverish. I’m being responsible! I’m a responsible adult!” “A responsible adult who still plays the elevator game, despite being told by maintenance you might throw the whole elevator out of whack?” Charles askes, but he doesn’t look angry, more amused.

“I was teaching Beetlejuice how to play.” The pause he was expecting with Emily finds its home with Charles. Charles glances at the boy. Betelguese stares back with big amber eyes, sipping quietly at his ice water. Charles looks to Emily, who seems to be waiting expectantly. The silence stretches for another beat before Charles asks, baffled, “Is that… his name?”

Emily throws her hands up like he’s asked if the sky is really blue. “Of course it’s his name! Or at least, that’s the name he gave me. I’m respecting it. Respectful and responsible, that’s me.” She turns and winks at Betelgeuse. He returns the strange breather gesture because he likes Emily more than he’s ever liked anyone before.

The water cup is empty, and he simply lets it go, no longer interested in holding it. It bounces and rolls across the floor, and Charles wrinkles his brow at the boy. “Wh-” Before he can say much more, Betelgeuse is sniffing at the air, and he crouches on all fours, nose to the ground, like a dog in a cartoon. He’s caught the scent of some kind of upperworld bug, and despite all the hotted dogs, he’s still hungry. He’s on the prowl around the kitchen, weaving under the little dining table and three chairs, and then back down the hall, into the living room. Charles and Emily poke their heads out of the kitchen to watch him.

“I think you brought a feral child into the house, Em.”

She makes a psshaw sound and rolls her eyes, smacking gently at his lapels. “He’s a kid. Kids are weird. I was doing weird kid stuff when I was his age, too.” “And you never stopped,” comes the dry response. “Charles, I know you worry, but he’s a little kid, lost in New York. I mean, my god, it’s like a movie! I couldn’t just leave him, and I wasn’t just going to give him to some cop, he’s probably an undocumented runaway or something-” and the rest of her rambling is drown out by Charles gasping and grabbing her, and her own muffled gasps of shock, because Betelgeuse has caught the bug. And also, he’s on the ceiling. He may have been trying to blend in, but the second he caught the scent of that delicious crunchy upperworld bug meat, everything else was out of mind. He’d spotted it on the ceiling, and had followed it up there, ignoring gravity to get what he wanted, and right as he pounced on it, nearly catlike, Charles and Emily had gasped. Their breather noises distract him long enough for the bug to skitter away, and he loses his concentration, and drops to the living room floor with a sickening crunch. Emily shrieks, and Charles panics, sprinting for the boy, certain he’ll find a dead child with a broken neck. Instead Betelguise sits up, his glamour disturbed from the fall, and the breathers get an eyeful of what he really looks like. There’s a beat. They’re all staring at each other for a long moment. “I… I might have brought a feral child into the house,” Emily admits sheepishly. You can read the entire thing, right now, over here

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.6 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N finds out more about how the lovedust works and it leads to her realizing her biggest fears about Peter if he’s cured. 

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: There’s a lot going on right now but thank you guys for being so incredibly kind and patient with me. Shit is going to hit the fan real soon with Lovedust so stay tuned! ALSO Don’t forget to leave comments if you guys liked it or hey even if you hated it! ALSO ALSO My taglist is getting pretty big and hectic so if I missed yours, I am VERY sorry pls just message me again so I can add you asap!

Warnings: Mild language, mentions of death and nightmares, slowburn

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||

part seven || part eight || epilogue 

As your eyes fluttered open, you gave yourself a minute to adjust to the sound of rain hitting against your bedroom window. You closed your eyes as you inhaled deeply, your arm instinctively reached beside you to touch Peter, only to find that side of the bed empty. 

You opened your eyes again and slowly raised yourself up to turn to see that your prediction was correct and that he wasn’t next to you. You knew it wasn’t a dream, you distinctively remembered him holding you as you fell asleep but you guessed he might’ve left soon after. 

The memories of last night rushed through your head as you felt your heart drop slightly and already, you felt empty so early in the morning. You remembered everything about the nightmare but more importantly, you remembered Peter cradling you like a child as you cried in his arms. 

You couldn’t wrap your head around a single feeling to describe the thoughts in your mind. As every day passed, Peter was showing you more and more how much he truly cared for you, and the thought of him not being able to keep the same energy once he was cured terrified you. 

You loved this new Peter and how kind and compassionate he was around you. It was annoying at first dealing with the cringey pick up lines and weird comments about the two of you getting married but now that you realized there was more to those side effects, you found him even more endearing. 

It was the small things like how he sacrificed the right side of his body so that you could fit under the umbrella perfectly or how he would willingly sit through a horror movie for you even though you both knew how much he hated them. 

You even saw a change in yourself and how you treated him. The other day, you two sat side by side on the couch and shared headphones while listening to the playlist you made for him or when you would tell him a dumb joke just so you could hear him laugh. 

It was selfish to hang onto the idea that Peter would always be this kind to you but you rather savored the moments you two had together since you knew better to know that nothing in life was guaranteed. 

You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so vulnerable, especially since Peter didn’t know what happened to your parents and now, you felt like you owed him an explanation. You looked back at your clock and sighed once you saw that you had already missed the beginning half of school, you thought screw it, you were taking a mental health day. 

“ Is it senior skip day or something?” You looked up to see your dad standing in your doorway with his arms crossed over his chest in a scolding manner but once he saw your dazed expression, he dropped the act,” Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You could feel your throat tighten as you shook your head, refusing to cry again. 

“ Nightmare,” You swallowed to stop yourself from letting anymore sobs from coming out of your mouth as Tony sat next to you and put his hand on your shoulder. 

“ I know kid, I know,” Tony brought you closer to him as you hugged him tightly. 

You had told Tony about your nightmares but he was already well aware on what happened with your parents. You were still pretty young when your parents had passed and you’ve lived most of your life with Tony as a parent but that didn’t mean you weren’t traumatized over what happened years ago. 

Tony had not only given you a good home and had locked down your future, but he was always there to listen and offer help, whether it was from himself or health experts.

“ It was Peter this time,” You said softly as you felt your dad hug you even tighter,” I don’t know why but he was in the nightmare and he-he tried to hurt me...I feel so guilty, I don’t know why he was there but my brain just made him  you know?” 

“ That’s not something you can control Y/N, remember what I said, your brain just picks up on different people-unless he did something. Did he do something to you? Cause I swear-”

“ No, no Dad it was the opposite,” You sighed as you pulled away and bit the inside of your cheek,” I know you told me not to hang out with Peter but...we’ve been getting closer and I think I...I don’t know. All I know was that when he comforted me after my nightmare, I felt the safest I’ve been in a long time….Things are different now. I don’t know what I could say to convince you but please don’t get mad.” 

You looked down at your bedsheets to avoid his gaze and you weren’t sure if he was burning a stern glare at the back of your head or not. 

“ I’m not mad about Peter, I already knew you were seeing him behind my back anyway and I should’ve known you two would’ve pulled some Romeo and Juliet bullcrap. Anyway- You’re strong enough to look after yourself, hell stronger than some of these people living here and if I may speak candidly, I know you could kick his ass if he ever crossed a line,” Your dad said as you let out a small chuckle,” I want you to be safe and happy. I would prefer you feel that way without a boy in the mix but I won’t yuck your yum.”

You wrinkled your nose but you couldn’t help but smirk,” Do you think I’m strong enough to become an Avenger?” 

“ You already are,” Your dad smiled as you inhaled deeply,” but before we get too mushy, I did actually want to talk to you about the other day, you know, about Peter’s health.”

You sat up straighter in your seat as you nodded attentively at him before he continued. 

“ It’s really important that you keep this between you, me and Banner, okay? I’m gonna use some big words so keep up,” You nodded again as you felt your heart beat rapidly against your chest,” you already know this but the lovedust activates a huge amount of serotonin in the body and sometimes that can lead to some major health problems. Well, with every day that passes, he runs the risk of having a ventricular tachycardia and that’s what explained how he collapsed the other day-”

“ Hold on, he collapsed? And did you say a ventricular tachycardia? Like a heartattack?” You asked as you felt your own heart stop for a moment as your dad gave you a confused expression,” So you’re telling me the lovedust could kill him? When did this happen?”

Your dad inhaled sharply as he swallowed hard,” Yesterday afternoon. We were done running tests and Banner noticed a car pull up and I said it was your friend John-”

“Josh.”

“ Yeah sure. Then we heard a loud thud and Peter just dropped. He just fainted but still, it’s a sign that things are getting worse,” Your dad said as you felt your heart completely shatter.

You felt like it was all of your fault. Even though Peter just fainted, he could’ve hit his head and died right there and you couldn’t stop yourself from filling your head with more terrible thoughts. 

“ Oh my god, I never thought things would get this bad,” You said as you rested your forehead in the palm of your hands, trying to keep a consistent stream of thoughts but each idea made you think of Peter getting hurt,” and there’s still not a cure? What have you guys even figured out so far-it’s been almost a week!” 

You knew your dad was trying his best but all you wanted was for Peter to get better and it didn’t help that time was against everyone. Peter could suffer a heartattack at any time of day and it didn’t make you feel better than nothing was being solved. 

“ Well we have a pretty strong theory about what caused the lovedust if you’re up for hearing it,” Your dad suggested as you hesitantly nodded. 

“ Our main theory is that the lovedust is effective when the patient- Peter- makes contact with the variable-you- and since you were the first person he saw, it activated his serotonin output. So it could’ve been anyone and Peter would’ve had the same reaction,” Tony said and it was so silent for a minute that you could hear a pin drop,” why is your face pale?”

You didn’t know how much you didn’t want to hear that theory until this very moment. You weren’t even sure why you could feel your throat close up again but this news made you sink back onto your bed. 

Peter really didn’t mean anything he was saying. After all those late night talks about how in love with you he was, those were all just side effects. Those were never his thoughts. He never really loved you. 

“ Oh...that’s good I guess,” You said quietly as Tony’s pager buzzed. You could tell Tony wanted to stay and talk to you but when he looked down at the notification, it seemed pretty urgent,” you can go, I’m just gonna stay here for a little bit.” 

“ We’ll talk later, okay kiddo?” Tony patted your knee and walked past your bed, closing your bedroom door behind him. 

You stared up at your bedroom ceiling as you thought about what your dad said. Peter’s condition was getting worst but now, at least they figured out something that could help them along the way. If they could figure out the properties of the lovedust than that means they could reverse it and find a cure. 

What if you didn’t want them to find a cure? 

You almost talked yourself out of your thought and called yourself a selfish idiot in the process, the goal was for them to help Peter. This could help Peter, you reminded yourself as you got up from your bed to get dressed. 

You weren’t sure where you wanted to go but you thought that your mental health day could carry on to the outside world. 

Mad....why were you mad? 

You had no reason to be so upset and you kept reminding yourself as the elevator went down to the garage. You aggressively pressed the button to unlock your car and once you sat down in the driver’s seat, you started your car and backed out of the garage. 

It was pouring outside and while you hated driving in the rain, you just had to leave to clear your head. 

Why were you upset?

Maybe because for once in your life, you felt special. 

You stopped on the brakes and you could feel your heart sink into your chest as the rain hit against your windshield. 

You shook your head slowly before you slapped your hands against your steering wheel hard.  

Was it awful that you loved the attention you were getting and maybe, just maybe, you were starting to see Peter differently? 

You slammed your firsts against the wheel again and again as you let out a frustrated grunt through your gritted teeth. 

You were mad that Peter could die. You were mad that there wasn’t a cure. You were mad that the lovedust had ruined your life. You were content without Peter meddling in your life but now that he had left such an impression, all you wanted to do was make sure he stayed as true to himself as he was now. 

You couldn’t expect that from him. You couldn’t expect that once he was cured, he would act back to his regular douchebag self but anything was possible, he didn’t owe you anything. 

You taunted yourself as you tried to snap out of whatever this hellish tantrum you were throwing. 

Why would you be upset over a guy who had fake feelings for you all this time? 

It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t your fault either.

Anyone. It could have been anyone. It could’ve been a sockpuppet and Peter would’ve probably tried marrying the damn thing. 

You snapped your head over to the passenger side of the door once you heard a hard tap come from the window. Once you saw it was Peter, you turned to face the front and unlocked the door without looking back at him. 

He opened the door and sat down beside you in the passenger seat without saying anything. He was soaking wet from head to toe and while you were annoyed he was getting the inside of your car wet, you had more important things to focus on. 

It was too quiet for your liking but there wasn’t anything you wanted to say to him. Frankly, you weren’t sure why you even let him in.

“ How did you sleep?” Peter asked quietly as he tested the waters.

It was clear that you were in some type of mood but Peter never knew how to approach situations like this, especially since he didn’t know why you were so upset. 

“ I slept fine, you?” 

“ Good I guess,” Peter shrugged as he shifted awkwardly in his seat,” are you okay? Are you upset about what happened last night-”

“ No,” You said truthfully as you leaned your head back against the headrest,” I mean, yes, I’m okay but no I’m not upset about last night.”

“ Well something is clearly bothering you and I just want to help. You know you can tell me anything, I mean it Y/N, we’re friends now. We shouldn’t be hiding things from each other,” Peter said as you let out a dry laugh. 

You knew you couldn’t reveal everything to Peter about what your dad had told you but it didn’t stop you from feeling angry. 

“ Okay, you want to be honest, lets be honest. When were you going to tell me that you collapsed at the lab?” You asked as you turned your whole body to face him,” my dad told me this morning.” 

Peter inhaled deeply but looked you straight in the eye,” I was going to tell you... eventually. It’s not like I had time to really sit down with you, I know you’re going through a lot right now and I didn’t want to stress you out. Besides, I feel fine now, it’s not a big deal.”

It was a big deal, he could die. That’s what you wanted to tell him. His life was at stake and yet you were keeping this big secret from him. It was hypocritical and wrong and if anyone else had told you, you would’ve revealed to Peter about his worsening condition. 

But it was your dad who told you to keep things a secret for now and you just had to trust him for both of your sakes. 

You looked at him for a moment as you studied his face while he did the same to you. It was as if you both had so much on your mind yet no one wanted to be the first one to detonate the bomb. 

“ I’m just so tired Peter. I’m tired of having conflicted feelings on whether or not this lovedust has been creating more problems than solving them… Whatever this is between us, I like it a lot but I hate feeling so pathetic to the point where I actually enjoy the feeling of having a guy give me attention only because of some space shit,” You turned your attention back to the steering wheel,” How do we carry on with our lives once you’re cured? What’s stopping you from being a complete asshole to me like before?” 

“ I told you, nothing has to change. No matter what happens, we’ll always be in each other’s lives as friends or something more. I would never treat you the way I did in the past, I swear on my life.” 

Peter could feel the energy in the car shift right as he finished speaking but there was nothing he could do to change the course of the conversation. The path had already been set and now, he just had to strap in and hope he could hang on. 

“ How am I supposed to believe that? How do I know anything you’re saying is true? Everything this lovedust has been built on is a lie, you don’t love me Peter. It’s a fucking chemical reaction that is messing with your body,” You snapped loudly but Peter hardly flinched,” your mind and body has been corrupted by a parasite. You say you love me but if you take the lovedust away, you don’t. It’s that simple.” 

“ Just because it’s a chemical reaction doesn’t mean that the way I’m feeling is a lie. I spend so many nights thinking about you and how happy you make me so for you to say that I don’t actually love you-”

“ Are you listening to yourself? You love me because of the dust, why is that so hard for you to understand? Love is supposed to be natural, this is not natural!  If the way you’re feeling isn’t a lie, look me in the eye right now and tell me, did you love me before the lovedust?” You asked as you turned back to face him,” tell me the honest truth, did you love me?” 

Peter felt like his body was burning up in the worst possible way and his throat felt dry as he thought carefully. It was so hard for him to see how terrible he was in the past because of the lovedust, all he could think when he saw you was just utter love. 

You were visibly hurt, even if you were shouting at him he could read you like a book and there was something that he knew was there but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. It felt like some sort of test that Peter had to decipher; he didn’t have all of the pieces of the puzzle so how was he supposed to get the full picture? 

“ I don’t...no. No I didn’t,” Peter said softly as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding,” but that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you.” 

There it was, the million-dollar answer to the million-dollar question. Of course he didn’t love you, he had tormented you for years. Your dad’s “theory” was right, the lovedust didn’t matter if he had loved you beforehand. It could’ve been anyone. 

So even if you might’ve known all along, why did it hurt and why were you upset?

“ Stop lying to me. You never cared about me, you loved humiliating me,” You said in a shaky breath,” you loved seeing me cry and you loved it when I got mad. I could see it all across your face, you loved making me absolutely miserable. So you can say you love me all you want now, but I know the truth. You don’t understand, this lovedust is ruining me, Peter. Do you know how painful it is to be tormented for years and all of a sudden, the same person is now in love with you just like that?” 

“ Ruining you? You didn’t touch the damn thing! And you want to talk about pain-Do you know how painful it is to love you?” Peter shouted as he felt his voice crack,” If I’m not near you, I feel like I’m going to die but when I’m around you, my chest feels like it’s going to burst open and it’s painful. I’m in pain right when I wake up in the morning to right before I go to sleep everyday because the mere thought of you drives me insane-” 

“ I didn’t ask for you to love me-”

“ I didn’t ask to love you either!” Peter shouted back louder, this time to make sure you would stop interrupting him,” My body feels weak all the time, I’m fucking falling apart because I love you so much. So don’t tell me that I’m lying about loving you because that’s all I feel when I look at you. Even when I’m pissed off I still love you but if you think for one second I’m going to sit here and let you attack me for my past that I have already apologized for, then I don’t want to hear it.” 

Peter gave you one last look before getting out of your car and straight into the rain. Peter slammed the car door behind him so hard to where the door completely fell off the hinges but Peter was so angry that he kept walking away. 

“ You fucking...ugh!” You screamed as you got out of your car and followed behind him. 

You were completely livid, you both were being unfair but just because he was going through a different type of pain than you didn’t mean yours hurt any less. 

You shouted after Peter but the rain was so loud to the point where you considered that maybe he just couldn’t hear you. You sped up your pace to the point where you almost slipped against the concrete. 

“ You don’t get to tell me that I can’t be mad at the past Peter when it’s only been a week since you got infected!” You yelled as you grabbed Peter’s arm to stop him from walking away from you,” Just because you apologized doesn’t mean I can let it go so easily. For years, you made me feel like I would be alone for the rest of my life because no one would ever love me!”

Peter whipped his head back around to face you as you kept a strong grip around his wrist,“ And I’m telling you now that I love you and I was a fucking idiot for hurting you. Jesus Y/N I am sorry but we’ve had this conversation before so why are you mad at me?” 

All you could focus on were his eyes, which were darting back and fourth across your face as if he was pleading with you. You had pushed him across the line so many times but now, Peter was pushing back because he just needed a clear answer. 

You both were tired of yelling and fighting and in this moment, Peter was so close to tearing down the walls you had set up for years to keep yourself safe against him. It was eating away at you because deep down, you knew why you were mad at him, you just didn’t know if you could bring yourself to let it slip out of your mouth.

The rain sounded muffled and all you could think about was how cold you were feeling. You were somewhat forcing yourself to focus on anything other than Peter but you were trapped in his desperate gaze. 

You felt your breath hitch as you could feel yourself getting choked up,” I’m mad...I’m mad because the way you feel about me right now, it’s fleeting... it’s temporary. One day when you’re cured, you’re going to stop loving me and that terrifies me.” 

Peter squeezed your hand and you didn’t even realize that while you were talking, the grip you had around his wrist had moved to interlock your fingers with his. You could feel your chest tighten as you moved your eyes down to your hands and you slowly moved your gaze to meet Peter’s. 

“ Why does it terrify you?” Peter asked softly and now it was your turn to plead with him using your eyes as if you were saying please don’t make me say it.

Maybe a part of Peter knew that you wouldn’t admit that maybe, there was something developing between the two of you that you just couldn’t bring yourself to admit. But Peter knew you well and even as he read you like a book, he wanted to hear it for himself. 

“ I’m terrified because…” You almost said it as a whisper and even Peter was having a hard time hearing you because his heart was beating so loudly,” because I…”

You swallowed hard as you looked down at his lips and even if it was just for a second, Peter caught you staring. Peter felt his knees weaken and he was seconds away from just pulling you into his arms but it was your move. 

Peter had given you all the power and while a part of him felt relieved, it didn’t stop him from reaching up and tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. This was the moment he had been waiting for. 

He had given you all of the puzzle pieces you needed except he saved the last one just for you. He wanted you to put the last piece in so that way you two could step back together and admire all of the hard work you put into it. 

 You would’ve. You were going to let him know everything and unravel in his arms because finally, you could let go.

You wanted nothing more than to pick up that stupid puzzle piece and slam it into the puzzle to show him you were serious. You were going to let your walls crumble down and for once, you were going to be fearless. 

But you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

“ I can’t,” You said softly as you let go of Peter’s hand and practically rushed back towards the building,  leaving Peter alone in the rain. 

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[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

the sky’s open wide, i’m running with the wolves - chapter 1

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, background Remy, background c!Thomas Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Platonic/brotherly Virgil with Logan and the Creativitwins; platonic/parental Patton & Virgil; platonic/brotherly Logan and the Creativitwins with each other; platonic/parental Janus with Logan and the Creativitwins; background endgame Moceit.  Warnings: Probably some language; references to Christianity; non-graphic violence.  Word count: 1570 Notes: Wolfwalkers (2020) AU! You don’t need to have seen the movie to enjoy this, though. 

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

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Summary: When Patton is charged with hunting down the wolves in the woods, he believes he is protecting his young son Virgil. But Virgil is afraid to watch his father vanish into the woods, and sneaks after him. When Virgil runs into three wolf cubs who hold the secrets of the forest, he has to make a choice: obey the rules he’s known all his life? Or try to help the three shapeshifting boys find their missing father—even though Virgil's always been taught that the only safe wolf is a dead one? As Virgil explores the wonderful world his new friends show him, and uncovers the lies his town is built on, he may be too late to realize that his choices will cost him more than he ever bargained for.

Chapter 1

Remy would never have particularly considered himself a God-fearing man. Oh, he said his prayers and went to church, of course, but it was more a comfortable habit woven into the fabric of his life than something he devoted much thought to. Even at nineteen, he preferred to occupy his day-to-day thoughts with such matters as the tending of his sheep, the comfort of a nice dry pair of woolen socks, the avoidance of wolves, and, most of all, the brewing of a good cup of tea.

Remy was good at his job. He tended his sheep; he stayed well away from the woods. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with the woods. Stay away from their territory, and keep up the deal of old, and always be safe. He had never put much thought into this, either; it was much more important, in Remy’s eyes, to consider the fine taste that a brew steeped just right could carry.

He never expected his thoughtless respect for the woods to pay off.

The first time Remy saw a Wolfwalker, he was twenty-five years old and had started to wonder if he even believed they were real. But after that day, he never doubted again.

After all, how else could one explain the way the huge, snarling gray wolf, poised to deliver a killing bite to one of Remy’s finest sheep, had heard that commanding howl come from the woods, and put its tail between its legs and run back home in response?

Remy had watched the wolf run, standing frozen in fear and shock—and then he’d seen the Wolfwalker. A tall, tremendous wolf standing at the edge of the treeline, easily twice the size of the largest man, with dark gray fur and eyes gleaming yellow, a jagged scar running down one side of its face. Lean and powerful. Remy instinctively knew this was no ordinary wolf.

Remy had never considered himself a God-fearing man, but staring at the Wolfwalker and the way it commanded the pack of ordinary wolves surrounding it, he thought to himself that perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to pray a little harder.

“Thank you,” he croaked out when the Wolfwalker turned its eyes on him. “Thank you, m’lord—bless ye—I’ll never cross your territory, you may be sure of that—thank you for protecting my sheep—” He barely even knew what he was saying, babbling out his thoughts in more than a little healthy terror.

He wasn’t quite sure if the way the Wolfwalker bowed its head was a nod of acknowledgement, but the next moment, the Wolfwalker was leaping away, the pack of wolves trailing in its wake. And not a single sheep of Remy’s had been harmed.

Remy didn’t see the Wolfwalker often; over the next decade or so, he crossed paths with—him? Remy somehow got the feeling it was a him—perhaps half a dozen times. Every time he came away filled with awe and fear and a renewed sense that though the Wolfwalker was terrifying and fearsome, Remy would far rather live under his odd protection than whatever farce could be provided by all these guards the new Lord Protector kept bringing around.

Before he knew it, Remy was nearly thirty-seven and his appreciation of a good cup of tea had only strengthened over the years. He went to church and said his prayers with gusto, and every night he glanced out to the woods and gave a little nod of respect. For the Wolfwalker and, these last few years, the little cubs that followed in his wake.

As long as the people kept themselves to themselves and stayed out of the woods, Remy knew there was nothing to fear from the wolves.

***

“I don’t want you to go!” Logan clung to Janus’s wrist, digging his heels into the ground and trying to physically hold him back.

Janus lifted his powerful arm and picked the near-teen right up off the ground with almost no effort at all. “This is terribly grown-up of you,” he informed his eldest son dryly.

“There are too many humans,” Logan insisted, dangling from Janus’s arm, the little claws of his hands pricking at Janus’s skin. “You said only the forest was safe!”

Janus drew a long breath. “And that has been true for time immemorial. But things have changed. I like it no more than you do. But I need you to stay here and look after your brothers, you understand me, Logan? I will find us a new forest, a safer one, without any humans who want to cut and burn the trees or trap us with iron. And then I will come back and get you three, and we will go there.”

“But this forest is ours!” Logan protested. “No other forest will be ours like this one is.”

“Logan,” Janus said, and his voice bore an undercurrent of a warning snarl now, “I am doing what I must to protect my cubs.”

He didn’t know where to go, only that they couldn’t stay here. Not with the way the humans kept getting bolder and bolder and venturing deeper into the woods. Between Logan’s poor eyesight and the twins’ recklessness, and the way all three of them were only cubs and couldn’t defend themselves well yet, Janus was getting twitchier and twitchier by the day.

Logan stilled, an unhappy look on his face. “Can I come with you, at least? I can help! I’m very good at figuring things out! We could find a new forest together!”

“No,” Janus responded at once, his heart rate quickening at the idea. “I don’t—” He broke off and reconsidered what he was about to say. “I need you to look after the twins,” he said at last, striving to keep his voice casual.

Not casual enough. Logan stared at him, a look of dawning horror on his face. “You think you might not come back!” he accused.

Janus refrained from speaking the curse he wanted to let out. Logan had always been far too observant. “Of course I’ll come back,” he lied through his teeth, running a comforting hand through Logan’s tangled hair. “I only want to make sure the way is safe for my little ones first.”

Logan had spoken the truth a moment ago: there were too many humans these days. Janus wasn’t sure it was possible to safely venture past the borders of the forest anymore. He wasn’t sure there was anywhere left to take his little ones.

He wasn’t sure he would survive this search.

But it wasn’t like there were any other options left at this point. “Logan,” Janus said, kneeling down and putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. He focused on making his voice honey-sweet and sincere. “I’m going to keep you safe, you understand? I would never abandon you. You are in charge of keeping your brothers safe until I return, but I will be back in a month or two.” Janus held the little boy’s brown eyes and tried not to think of humans with their traps and spears and guns and the way that once Janus left the forest he would have nowhere to hide.

“I will come back,” Janus told Logan, and he put his whole heart into his lie. “I promise.”

***

“I don’t want to move to some stupid village.” Virgil kicked his feet against the edge of the wagon petulantly, poking a piece of straw through the bars of his kestrel Thomas’s cage.

Patton sighed and reached back to ruffle his son’s hair, not taking his eyes from the winding dirt road. “I know, kiddo. We’re going to have a better life there. The Lord Protector offers a handsome salary to Hunters who can bring down wolves. They say the town is terrorized day and night, and they need to rid the forest of these pests so they can safely harvest the wood and expand the borders of the town.”

“But I hate when you go hunting!” Virgil crawled up to the driver’s seat beside Patton and clung to his arm. “I’m always so scared you’ll get eaten up! Or step in a trap! Or fall off a cliff! Or drown! Or—”

“Hey, there. Hey, now.” Patton wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “Breathe, child. Breathe for me.” He murmured soothingly for a few minutes. “Now, come on, tell me: who taught you to draw a bow and arrow?”

“You,” Virgil mumbled.

“Good lad. And who taught you to track?”

“You did.”

“And what do you think? Am I a good Hunter? Haven’t I always kept you safe as can be?”

“Yes, but—”

“Virgil,” Patton interrupted, gentle but firm.

Virgil fidgeted for a moment. “It only has to go bad once, and you’d never come home again!”

“It’s a good thing I’d never do that, then,” Patton said, chucking Virgil under the chin and chuckling. “I mean, I have a sturdy little lad to look after, I must always make sure I hasten home to him at the end of the day.” He drew Virgil close and gave him a protective, reassuring hug. “Nothing’s going to get your Papa. I promise. I will always protect you, Virgil, you hear me? And today, the best way to protect you is to find ourselves a new home out here. We’ll make do, never you worry. I’m sure you’ll have lots of new friends in no time!”

--

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): 

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[ofbardsandmonsters]

Fill for square N3 - “free space” for the @stb-bingo. read it on ao3 here

This is fill number 5 for me AND it gives me my first BINGO!!

***

“Do you have your inhaler?”

“Yes.”

“What about the backup inhaler?”

“Ned has it.”

“Did you pack clean underwear?”

“Dad, come on. Of course I did.”

“How many pairs?”

“Dad.”

Tony holds up both hands, smiling at Peter, who scowls back. But Tony refuses to be sorry for worrying about his only son going on his first overnight field trip. It’s been just the two of them since before Peter was even born. And this would be the first time they’d been apart more than a few hours in fifteen years. So even if he wasn’t an omega, Tony feels like he’d be entitled to a little parental panic.

Peter’s phone beeps, and he glances at it before zipping up his backpack and slipping it onto his back. “Ned and his parents are here.”

The elevator opens without prompting, and the two Starks ride it down to the ground floor. Tony can see the Leeds’s car sitting at the curb, and Ned jumps out of the car as soon as they approach. The two boys perform some complicated handshake that even Tony’s genius brain can’t follow. He rolls his eyes, smiling fondly at the boys’ obvious bond, and goes around to the driver’s side to finalize details for picking up the boys at the school in a couple days with Ned’s father.

He’s standing on the curb with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, watching the Leeds’s car drive away, when his assistant Darcy comes up beside him. The beta’s got a tablet in her hands, a sight that always means it’s time for him to actually do some work. And with Peter gone for the next several days, she won’t be letting Tony get away with using him as an excuse.

“Kiddo all packed off? Gonna be weird without him underfoot.”

Tony snorts. “You love having him underfoot. You spoil him almost as much as I do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course, Miss Lewis. My mistake. What’s on my agenda for this morning?”

Darcy follows him back into the tower, pulling open his schedule on her tablet as they walk to the elevator. “You have three meetings before lunch. R & D requested you for a demo at 2:30. Tonight is your monthly visit to Maria Stark House, Colonel Rhodes is meeting you there at six to help serve dinner.”

The last item on the agenda makes warmth spread through his chest. He had established the Maria Stark House for Omegas during his pregnancy with Peter, and once a month he goes over to help cook and serve dinner to the residents and their children. Most of the men and women living there have been recently separated from their alphas, whether by death or by choice, and have no support system to catch them. Many are in various stages of pregnancy, and some come with small children clinging to them. The Maria Stark House provides support and housing either until the baby is born or until they’re back on their feet.

It’s his pride and joy, other than Peter of course.

As he and Darcy approach his office, Tony can see a tall figure in what appears to be military dress through the frosted glass of the windows. “Darcy, why is there someone in my office already?”

“That would be your 8:00. The new army liaison? He’s been waiting a little while, but I told him you had a personal matter that needed attending to and he seemed perfectly content to wait.”

Tony groans, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling before scrubbing his hands over his face. “Rhodey just had to go and get that promotion. Couldn’t be happy spending the rest of his career as our liaison.”

“Do I need to remind you how much you cried at the ceremony? I’m sure I could get JARVIS to project the video on the nearest wall if you just—”

“Nope! No, I’m good, thank you Darcy. But you know how I feel about the military. Bunch of puffed up alpha assholes with an overinflated sense of importance.” Obviously his assistant didn’t know the full story behind Tony’s disdain for anyone in a uniform that wasn’t Rhodey, but she understood nonetheless.

“I’m well aware of your feelings, Tony. But if you want to continue providing tech and armor and medical supplies to the military, then we need a liaison. Just go in, get to know the guy a little, and then I’ll swoop in and save you and send him on his way. Okay?”

Tony sighs, deflating a little as he nods.

“Good. Now, before you go in there, hold still.” Tucking her tablet under one arm, Darcy steps into his space to straighten his tie and smooth out wrinkles in his jacket that only she can see. Then she slides her fingers into his hair to tousle the silvering strands. She steps back with her hands on her hips, admiring her handiwork before nodding in satisfaction.

“Want to tell me what that was about, Miss Lewis?”

“Captain Hottie in there is an entire buffet. And you’ve been starving for way too long, boss man.”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at the younger beta. “Darcy, I cannot sleep with our liaison. Pepper would string me up by my toes, and Peter is too young to be without a father. Besides, no hotshot army alpha is going to want to waste his time on an aging omega with a teenager.”

“You’re not aging, Tony, jeez. You’re thirty-five.” Darcy’s blue eyes soften, and she reaches out to squeeze his arm. “Look, I know Peter is your entire world, yadda yadda yadda. We all love him. But you deserve some happiness too.”

Before he can respond, she turns him around and nudges him toward his office door, slapping his ass with a resounding crack. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger!”

He glares at her over his shoulder, watching her stalk off on her criminally high heels, probably on her way  to torture some poor unsuspecting interns. When she disappears around the corner, he turns back to his office and takes a fortifying breath. Whoever this guy is, Tony isn’t going to let himself be intimidated. He’s Tony Stark. And Stark men are made of iron.

The door opens silently as he steps inside. “Sorry to keep you waiting, captain. I had something that needed to be sorted and it couldn’t wait, so I—”

The other occupant of the room turns around, and it feels like time stops. Between one breath and the next, Tony’s twenty years old again, a positive pregnancy test in his pocket and excitement to share the news with his alpha swelling in his chest. Excitement that dies a swift and fiery death just minutes later when the alpha breaks his heart and walks out the door.

The very same alpha standing across from him in full military dress, hands in his pockets, shifting nervously.

“Hey, Tony.”

Even after all this time, Tony still knows Steve Rogers’s face better than his own. How could he ever forget, when he’s spent the last fifteen years seeing those features reflected in his son’s face? A son that he’s spent nearly two decades raising alone.

Tony does the only logical thing.

He bolts.

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

Darcy finds him twenty minutes later in the hidden corner of his workshop that only a select few people have access to. He hears the click of her heels first, before she comes around the corner and inputs her code. The glass doors to the restricted area slide open, and she spots Tony easily where he’s sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, knees tucked up to his chest. She crouches until they’re eye to eye. He’ll never figure out how she manages to execute a perfect squat in those heels.

“Hey, boss. Did the meeting with Captain Hotpants go that bad? JARVIS said you turned tail and ran almost immediately. What gives?”

Tony drops his head against his knees, trying to hide the way tears have started to gather in his eyes at just the mention of Steve. But he knows Darcy’s not going to let it go, and no one else sees through his lies and misdirects the way she does. So he tries to form some kind of coherent response, but all that comes out is, “Peter’s father.”

“What does that worthless nothing have to do with this?”

He clears his throat, gathering his courage to actually look his assistant in the eyes. “It’s him. The-the guy. The liaison, it’s… he’s Peter’s father.”

Darcy rears back like he just punched her in the gut, and she stares at him in wide-eyed shock for a minute. Her features soften as she shifts onto her knees and reaches out with both hands to grip his shoulders. “Oh, Tony. Wow, what a shock. That is some kind of wild—”

A strange look crosses her face before she picks her tablet up off of the floor and starts scrolling through it. As she reads, Darcy’s face slowly changes from confused to startled before her pretty features twist into a mask of rage. It’s a look Tony very rarely sees on her face, and it makes him sit up straight.

“Darcy? What is it?”

He hears a low growl, and that’s how he knows she’s really pissed off. Betas don’t growl like omegas and alphas do, not unless they’re pushed over the edge. His instincts kick in, helpless against the clear distress of someone he cares about, and soft soothing noises emanate from his throat.

It takes the younger woman a few minutes to compose herself, but eventually her scent shifts from furious to simple anger. She takes a breath, and then hands Tony the tablet. It’s open to the file on Steve they’d received from the army rep that had arranged the appointment to SI military liaison. He browses it, but nothing that could explain her anger pops out. When he looks back up at her, confused, she taps on a note at the bottom.

“He requested this position. I didn’t think anything of it when I read the file the first time, just assumed he was a career guy who was sick of combat and wanted something more cushy. And the rep said he thought Rogers was a perfect candidate. Tony, if I thought for even a second that he had an ulterior motive I would have made sure he couldn’t get within even a thousand feet of the building, I swear.”

Tony doesn’t respond at first, too busy reading and rereading the rep’s note. Captain Rogers entered his own name into the running for this assignment before we could even gather a list of acceptable candidates, but it is my personal opinion that he would make an ideal candidate for army liaison. Why in the hell had Steve suddenly decided he wanted a position that would force him to work alongside the omega he had abandoned fifteen years ago?

He was damn sure going to find out.

“JARVIS, is St… Captain Rogers still in the building?”

“Yes, sir. Captain Rogers is still in your office.”

“Good, keep him there.”

He pushes off the wall and stands up, Darcy following with a whole lot more grace, and he hands her back the tablet. She watches him straighten his jacket and do his best to smooth out his hair that’s gone wild from the number of times he’d run his fingers through it.

“Tony, are you sure it’s a good idea to confront him right now? You’re upset, and I don’t need the entire building gossiping about another one of your shouting matches with an alpha.”

“I’m good, I’m fine. I’m going to walk in there, calmly, ask him what his game is and then tell him to get the fuck out. Piece of cake.”

Darcy’s entire face practically screams how much she doesn’t believe anything that he’s just said, but she doesn’t try to stop him. What she does is give JARVIS specific instructions once Tony’s out of earshot.

“JARVIS, blackout mode in the boss’s office as soon as he shuts the door.”

“Of course, Miss Lewis.”

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

Tony’s entire plan to be calm and mature goes out the window as soon as he walks back into his office and sees Steve standing there.

“Tony—”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Fifteen years, Steve. You walk out of my life like I meant nothing to you and I don’t hear from you for fifteen fucking years, and now you think you can just waltz in here like everything’s cool and just expect me to work alongside you? What the fuck, Steve?”

“No, Tony, that’s not—”

“I thought this was just some weird cosmic coincidence, the universe playing a joke on me. But you requested this position. Why? What the hell is your game?”

“There’s no game Tony, I wouldn’t—”

“Is this about Peter? We didn’t have to go through all this song and dance. I would have let you see him.”

“Peter? Your son, Peter? What does he have to do with—”

“Oh, don’t play stupid, Steve. It’s not a good look on you.”

“Tony, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why would I be interested in your son?”

“Just because you’ve been off playing soldier for his entire life doesn’t mean you get to pretend he isn’t yours.”

Steve freezes, then sits down in one of the plush chairs across from Tony’s desk like he’s a marionette who’s just had all of his strings cut. He’s paler than normal, making his bright blue eyes stand out. “He’s… mine?” Steve’s always been a pretty terrible liar, so Tony knows the shock on his face is real. He sits down behind his desk, feeling similarly off-kilter.

“Of course he’s yours. I haven’t, um… I haven’t been with anyone else since… well, you. Raising Pete on my own was a full time job, I didn’t really have time for dating. He’s not really a secret, so I just assumed you knew he was yours.”

Across from him, Steve slumps in his chair, his gaze going far away. But after a minute or two, he seems to shake himself and he shifts forward, blue eyes locking on to Tony’s. “If I had known, I never would have let you go through all of that on your own, you have to believe me. I… why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Tony sighs, breaking eye contact. “I was going to. The day you… the day you left, I had the test in my pocket. I just… never got the chance. When the media got wind that I’d had a child and the news was everywhere, there was no word from you. So I assumed you wanted nothing to do with us.”

Steve looks stricken, and he scoots to the edge of the chair. Both hands reach out, almost like he wants to reach for Tony, but his strong fingers close around the edge of the desk. “Jesus. Tony, god, no. If I had known that Peter was my son, our son, nothing could have kept me away.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. Trust me, I remember everything I said. I’m never going to stop hating myself for hurting you like that. Every time I close my eyes, I can see that devastated look on your face. Tony, I’ve missed you every minute of the last fifteen years.”

“Then why—”

“Because I wasn’t good enough for you!”

Tony flinches back like he’s been slapped, and he’s not sure which of them is more surprised by Steve’s outburst. But his surprise quickly twists into anger. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“No, Tony. It’s not. You were so far out of my league, in every way possible, and your father took every opportunity he could find to remind me of it. And I was able to brush it off for a while, but it kept building and building until I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Steve, I never thought that. You were everything I wanted and—”

Steve is out of his seat and around to Tony’s side of the desk before he can even think about what he’s doing and whether it’s appropriate or not, his instincts leading him as he recognizes the scent of distressed omega. He sits on the edge and reaches out to tug the smaller man up and against his chest. Surprisingly, Tony goes without resistance.

“I know. I know and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to keep him out of my head.”

“You should have talked to me.”

“I know.”

“My parents died a year after you left, Steve. Why didn’t you come back?”

Steve sighs, pulling the omega tighter against his chest until his scent starts to soften into something less harsh. “I couldn’t. The idea that I needed to be a better alpha for you was so deep into my brain that I couldn’t shake it. I had to keep pushing, keep working towards higher ranks until I felt worthy. And… part of me thought I would never reach it, not after the way I’d treated you.”

He feels a sharp jab to his chest, and Steve leans back a little to rub at the spot and pout down at Tony, who’s glaring at him.

“You were always worthy, you big stupid alpha. All you had to do was love me to be worthy. I was the one who was lucky that you took a chance on such a messy, broken omega.”

Steve lets out a fierce growl that echoes through the room. He shifts his hands to cradle Tony’s face. “There is nothing messy or broken about you. And I know I don’t deserve it, but if you’d let me, I will spend every minute of the rest of my life showing you.”

Tony shudders at the promise in the alpha’s voice, and he presses his face against Steve’s chest to hide the tears gathering in his eyes. “I shouldn’t. Pepper’s gonna kill me. Rhodey’s gonna kill you. And Peter will be an orphan before he turns sixteen. But…”

He looks up at Steve, and lets his hands come up to twist in the material of the alpha’s  starched green jacket. “I don’t wanna do this without you, Steve. I’ve done it alone for fifteen years and I can’t anymore. Not if there’s an option to do it as a team. It’s gonna take work, and you have to give me time to trust you again. I want to, but you have to show me that you won’t hurt me again, Steve.”

Steve tugs him close again, leaning down to press a kiss into his dark curls. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Brilliant, strong omega. Raising a kid i running a company, all on your own? You’re perfect. How did I ever give you up?”

He can feel Tony trembling against his chest, so Steve shifts them around until he’s sitting in Tony’s ridiculously large desk chair and can pull the omega into his lap. Tony lets out an audible sigh, and Steve chuckles when he feels nimble fingers start unbuttoning the large buttons on his dress coat. He doesn’t resist, letting the omega push it off his shoulders and tug it free of his arms. When the coat is off, Steve wraps his arms around Tony and hugs him tight to his chest.

“This better, Tony?”

The brunette nods, and it isn’t long before Steve’s ears pick up the sound of Tony purring softly. The grin that splits his face makes his cheeks hurt.

They stay like that for a few minutes, Steve basking in the warm, comfortable scent of happy and content omega. This was more than he ever could have hoped for. When he requested the assignment to SI as the army liaison, he had only dared to hope that Tony would talk to him. Never could he guess that he would have Tony curled up against him like this, especially not after his initial reaction to seeing Steve after so long. And now, he thinks there’s only one thing that could make this better.

“Hey, Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I… Peter. Can I meet him? You don’t have to tell him who I am right away, I just… I want to get to know him if I can.”

Tony tries to sit up, but Steve tightens his hold, and he settles back down with an amused huff. “Of course you can meet him. He’s your son too, and he deserves to know both his dads. He’s in DC on a field trip for a few days, but I’ve already got a couple days blocked off in my schedule when he gets back. The three of us can spend that time together.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to get in the way—”

“You won’t be. You’re going to love him, Steve. He’s so smart, and strong and brave and good. He’s the best parts of both of us. JARVIS, give us some pictures up on the wall, please?”

A slideshow of pictures projects onto the empty wall across from them, starting from Peter’s birth and slowly moving year by year. Steve can’t help the tears that form as he watches the little boy, his little boy, grow up.

“He’s beautiful, Tony. I can already tell what an amazing job you’ve done with him. I can’t wait to get to know him. And get to know you again.”

After the pictures, JARVIS starts up some of the home movies Tony’s taken of Peter over the years. Gradually, Steve can feel the omega growing more and more relaxed against him. He loses track of how much time passes before Tony speaks again.

“You’re fired, by the way.”

Steve barks out a laugh, looking down at Tony, whose eyes are still watching the video currently playing on the wall. “What do you mean, I’m fired?”

“It seems unprofessional for you to technically be an SI employee if you’re going to be sleeping with the head of the company.”

One large, calloused finger hooks under Tony’s chin and tips his head back so Steve can meet his eyes. “Tony, I want to make it clear that this isn’t just about sleeping together. When you’re ready, after I’ve groveled and worshipped you and done everything I can to earn back your trust and your love, I want to be your alpha. I want us to be a family. Permanently.”

Steve’s declaration is so serious, so clearly heartfelt and earnest, there’s nothing stopping Tony from melting completely. He surges forward, capturing Steve’s lips in a kiss that’s fifteen years overdue. The alpha startles and freezes in shock, but he returns the kiss before Tony has even a fraction of a chance to second guess it.

The kiss only lasts a handful of seconds, but it leaves both of them dazed and grinning like fools. Tony settles back down against Steve’s chest, and together they watch the memories that Tony had captured play out on the wall, the room overflowing with the scents of warm and happy alpha and omega.

Darcy comes searching for Tony an hour later when he doesn’t show up for his second meeting of the morning. JARVIS directs her to the office, where she finds the two men deeply asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“JARVIS, snap a picture of that, please.”

“My pleasure, Miss Lewis.”

Darcy still plans to threaten the good captain, viciously, with her sharpest pair of stilettos. But her love for Tony goes far beyond the care of an employee for her boss. Tony is the older brother she never had, and his happiness—and Peter’s— means more to her than the joy she derives from threatening alphas bigger than her and watching them cower.

With a swipe of her finger, she clears the rest of Tony’s schedule, and heads down the hallway to her own office to await the email from Pepper requesting an explanation that she knows will be on the way before too long.

When her computer dings, she sends off her response with just one sentence.

I promise you, it’s worth it.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Being May’s Daughter and an Older Sister to Daisy would include:

SPOILERS FOR WHOLE SHOW!

Being Melinda May’s daughter means you are an expert at control.

She always urged you pursue whatever passion you wanted.

But she always saw that part of you would be a fighter.

Andrew wasn’t exactly thrilled.

But he was supportive father and cared for you both. 

In fact, an argument between the two was part of what made them split.

Neither ever told you that.

May, however, suspected that you always knew.

When you met Skye, you saw an innocent girl dragged into this world that looked fun, but one that held a lot of pain inside of it.

So, you trained her when May had to fly.

Despite that it had autopilot, May seemed to know the role you were choosing to play in her life. So, she let you be.

Skye was always wanting to let people in, but always waited for the other shoe to drop.

You seemed to recognise it and didn’t force her into talking about anything.

You just acted like an older sibling and friend in subtle ways.

Checking in on her when it was late and talking to her if she was up.

One time, when she had a nightmare, she woke to you waking her up.

She returned that favour to you when you had a nightmare.

It was about losing your mother.

Now, Phil Coulson always had fatherly instincts.

He knew you and May, obviously.

He played the role of a father to you.

But, assured you that he wasn’t replacing Andrew.

“He’s your birth father, Y/N. I’m never going to beat that. Just know I’m here if you need.”

Anyway, back to Skye.

That night when she woke you, you talked for hours.

May found you the next day asleep in the bed, with you having a protective arm around her.

May let you rest in.

Skye trusted you with a lot of things about her past after that.

She even trusted you about the usb stick with information about her parents.

When they found out about her ties with the Rising Tides not being cut, the team were disappointed.

You, however, took her side.

Your mother wasn’t exactly pleased, but only showed that through a look.

You, like the others did forgive her. But, in your eyes, she didn’t really have much to apologise for.

You took her aside before her talk with Coulson, “I know you’re probably nervous, but he won’t throw you out. I won’t let him…. I just wished you would’ve told us.”

She apologised, but you just shook it off.

She then came out of the office and sat with you, telling you about her actual goal of joining the team.

You just listened to her the whole time and didn’t judge her.

In the end, you hugged her assured her you would be there for her and help her in her search.

While you didn’t know much about hacking, you tried to help her where you could

When your mother kicks her off the plane and she go looking for Coulson, you sneak off to help her

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?!” She asked

“Helping, obviously.” You respond as if it’s nothing

“But what about May --?”

“I’ll handle her when we get back with Coulson.”

She doesn’t say it, but she appreciates your company

She doesn’t have to though, as you can just simply tell

So, you follow through with her plans, including the one to drive into the water to get the car sent

“Sorry.” She says

“We’re alive.”

When you both play dress up, you play the role of your mother and Skye plays the role of Coulson

You’re a lot more convincing

You find Coulson and call the rest of the team

You’re the one who speaks

When your mother picks up the phone, Skye looks at you with a worried expression

But you don’t seem too bothered

“Y/N.” She greets

“Mom.” You return, politely

“Where are you?”

You look at Skye with a, “See? Easy.” Look as she drives you to where Coulson is.

After that, you become a partner to her in the field.

When she gets shot, you are one who beats Quinn up instead of your mother. She watches the door for you.

You stay with Skye whenever you can as she heals. You are just elated to have her be alive.

While you play older sister to Skye, you also do to Fitzsimmons.

If any of the three ever need anything, they come to you.

Normally starts of with “Y/N, can I ask you something?” If it’s either of Fitzsimmons with their manners.

You, of course, say yes.

When Ward betrays the team, it shocks and hurts you.

You are with Fitzsimmons on the plane and fight Ward to try and protect them.

You end up being caught, but a SHIELD team get you out.

When the team reunite with Jemma, you pull up in a car and enter the place.

May, in a rare moment of vulnerability, runs to you and hugs you tight.

She doesn’t say anything, just hugs you.

Skye is next in her hug, “I’m so glad you’re ok.” She says voice cracking.

You just hold her and rub your hand on her back in comfort.

Jemma thanks you for protecting them.

During the time, May starts training you again and you spar with Skye.

May see’s the sisterly bond between you two now: the loyalty, the laughs, the late-night talks.

Neither you nor May say it, but you can tell that Skye is a part of the family now.

You are the third partner in their little SHIELD team.

You try and be the one who goes in while Skye hangs back out of protectiveness. But she’s stubborn.

“No, I’m not letting you go in there alone, Y/N.” Seems that protective spirit has gone to her as well.

You ruffle her hair whenever you go past.

She’d act annoyed, but kind of find if nice in a way. With you openly being affectionate and showing her that you care.

If you’re ever hurt on a mission, she’s by your side either on site, or when you return.

“Hey, Y/NN, you need to stay with me, ok? You’re not dying, not now. May’ll kill me.”

When she gets taken by Ward, it’s you she has to convince last.

“I’m not letting you go with him, Skye.”

“You have to. You guys taught me how to look after myself. I’ll be ok.”

You sigh but let her go.

Then she gets her powers.

She’s scared shitless, but you stay with her as much as you can like you did when injured.

When the team argue about her showing them, you argue her case.

“She was scared.”

“She kept it from us!” Mack would say passionately.

“To avoid this reaction!”

“It’s ok, Y/N.” She tells you when she arrives at the door. She gives you a sad smile, but in her eyes, you can tell she appreciates it.

You visit her in her cell, so she doesn’t feel alone. But she can tell that you aren’t quite sure how to handle it.

“It’s ok, you know. I’m not hurt by it.”

“By what?”

“My powers. It’s ok to say that you don’t know how to handle it.”

There’s the last tenet of your sisterhood: honesty

When she leaves, you stay in contact as much as you can. She asks you how it’s going back at base, and you ask her how she is.

Then SHIELD go after her, and real SHIELD enter the scene.

Now you’re all having to careful and tread lightly with this new SHIELD.

When Bobbi comes back, she tries to explain it.

“Y/N, just let me –”

“If you so much as lay a finger on any of my friends or look at them the wrong way, I swear, we are going to have issues, Morse.”

However, your mother see’s it and reigns you in.

“I understand that you’re angry.”

“So, you want me to, what? Bottle it up?”

“No, use it for something more. They’re after Coulson, and he’s after Ward. We need to keep her heads on straight.”

“…Ok, you’re right. I’m sorry.” May just nods, forgiving you.

When Fitz leaves, you help devise the scam for him to get away with the real toolbox.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N? What if it backfires on you?” Jemma asks you, worried about your wellbeing with this situation.

You just smile at her caring nature, “If it does, then it hits me, and not you guys. Now go on.”

When Skye comes back, your smile is as wide as it can be.

You hug her so tight, “Welcome back, Skye.” You tell her in a soft voice.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

When you see her power, you are in awe, “Look at you!” She smiles and sends a wink.

She even pushes a bullet away that was coming for you.

Having to work again with Ward is difficult, but it’s a necessary evil. Just like your mother on the SHIELD board to argue Coulson’s case.

“Are you sure you have to go back?” You ask Skye when it’s her turn to do just that

“I wish I could bring you. I do, really. But they have a thing about outsiders”

“It’s ok. Go on, kiddo. Go be with your family.”

You know that she has her parents now, but it still hurts a bit that you might lose her.

“Hey, I’m not moving on, alright? I’ll still come back, and we can even team up! I’m not leaving you, Y/N.” She assures you.

Then it all goes to shit.

Everything happens quickly, but two team ups happen: Yourself and Skye/Daisy; you and your mother.

Now it’s you, Mack, and Daisy (Skye’s birth name) as partners

Daisy and you are almost completely in sync. She doesn’t even need to yell, “Duck!” anymore before using her powers.

You know each other so well.

Mack plays big brother and adores it when you both have that synchronisation. Makes him proud to be your partner.

Not that you don’t forget about him, you always include him in your fights and activities such as games.

You pass the controller to each other when someone dies in the game.

Late night game sessions and drinking buddies don’t go well.

Then Ward comes back and kidnapped you.

Oh, you bet your ass that Daisy is working day and night to find you.

You’re her best friend. And she nearly lost Simmons (her other best friend), so she’ll be damned if she’s going to lose you too.

May tries to pull her away but fails.

“Daisy, you need to take a break.”

“Not until we find, Y/N.”

“I’m worried about her too. But she can handle herself.”

“Not with Ward, though! I should’ve killed him!”

If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. And that’s what May does.

When they find you, they burst through the doors, more pissed than they ever have been.

Ward isn’t there, but you are, and that’s what matters.

Now they’re super protective over you now. Not only them, but the whole team.

Ward does a number on you mentally.

Jemma is extra careful with your wounds and keeps assuring you that you are doing well.

Fitz makes you some sleeping pills to try and help and makes you coffee every morning.

Mack gives you more and more hugs every day.

May checks in on you more.

Daisy…. well.

Daisy stays with you as much as she can. Whether that be in the same room as you, talking to you or being silent, going on missions with you.

She has your back all the way.

Whenever you flinch, she’s quick to withdrawal and apologise.

Sure, she’s worried and misses the spark that you had. But it’ll either take time to come back or it’ll be different.

Whichever it is, she’ll adapt. You’re her sister and best friend.

Then a version of Ward comes back and takes Daisy away from you guys.

Now May is very concerned about you. She can tell this is all building up to something with you.

Despite being her daughter and Daisy joking that you are pretty much May but bubblier. You are human after all.

Whenever they get closer to Daisy, May keeps you away.

You want to help Daisy, but you also know that you wouldn’t be able to handle it.

You start doubting yourself. Starting spinning ideas of, “What if?”

The whole team notices a shift in you. You miss more, take more hits in fights, you’re acting reckless more and now that your father is gone too, you’re spiralling.

And May is genuinely afraid that she can’t stop it.

One day, she goes to find you, only to find you gone and a note left behind.

It reads: “Mom, I know that this isn’t enough. But I can’t with this life anymore. You told me you’d support me through whatever I wanted to do. And I don’t think SHIELD is this. I’m done watching people die, mom. I’m done losing friends. I’ll make contact at some point. Just, let me be for now? Love you always, Y/N. PS. Find Daisy.”

Then there’s nothing for almost a few months.

When Daisy comes back after being freed from Hive, she doesn’t see you and fears the worst, “Is she…?” She can’t get the words out.

May shakes her head, “No, she’s just gone. She left.”

Then Daisy is gone too after Lincoln. Now May has lost two out of her three daughters.

Daisy, however, manages to find out what you are doing.

And what is that, exactly? Smuggling Inhumans out.

She watches from afar with her little scope, making sure you’re ok and safe.

She’s just happy that you’re alive. But doesn’t dare go close.

As Coulson chases leads on Daisy, May does the same for you.

She has a file that becomes bigger and bigger as she slowly pieces together just where you are and what you are doing.

Then Fitz finds it, “What is this?” He asks.

“It’s everything I’ve found on Y/N since she left. She’s running a smuggling operation of Inhumans to get them out.”

Fitz just nods, promising to keep it safe.

However, May does find a burner phone on her bed the next day.

She keeps it in her back pocket.

Daisy comes back first, and May is delighted to have one of her two missing daughter’s back.

However, it’s when Mace calls herself and Daisy in that shit gets real with you.

“There’s a situation developing.” The two share a look, worry filling them up.

“There was a fight between SHIELD and the watchdogs, some Inhumans were killed. But Y/N got away. But we think we know where she’s going.”

(Episode 4x13 - BOOM) They both capture the Watchdogs and find that they have been hunting you for a while.

When Shockley is going on a rampage, he see’s you in the road.

“Well, hell. There she is, Y/N May.”

You started firing your pistol at him but doesn’t do much.

Your gun clicks, “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make this quick.”

Just as your life is about to end, he is stopped –

By Daisy Johnson.

She moves to your side, holding out a clip for you. You take it, loading it in.

“You don’t touch her.” She snarls at Shockley.

So, it’s just like old times. Even if it cuts it a little close.

When Fitzsimmons arrive, they activate the machine and stop him.

Now, it’s silence, as the three stares at you.

You’re here, you’re actually here. They’ve found you.

Daisy doesn’t talk, she just hugs you.

You are taken aback by the action. But, before you can do anything, Fitzsimmons join the hug too.

“Come on, Y/NN, let’s go home.” Daisy says, taking your hand and pulling your dazed form along with her as Fitzsimmons flank you.

When May see’s you, that silence returns. You both can’t really seem to believe that you are seeing the other.

Coulson approaches you and put’s a fatherly hand on your shoulder, “Welcome back, kiddo.”

You might be about to cry here, but that’s besides the point.

You approach your mother with caution, “Hey mom.” You say, trying and failing to keep your voice steady.

“You’re back?” She asks you.

“I don’t think a normal life is for me.” You say, chuckling a bit.

She hugs you, squeezing you tight.

Her baby is home.

It takes a bit of Tim getting settled back in with the gang. But they’re patient with you, even with everything going on.

Then the LMD secret comes out. Your mother wasn’t the one you hugged.

You find Jemma and Daisy in hiding, close to losing it once again.

Daisy, being more in control, calms you down and sits you next to Jemma. She goes to leave, only to you try and get up.

“No, Y/N, I need you to stay with Jemma.” She asks of you, before she leaves on her mission of holding the LMDs off.

You all get out, holding hands in the Jet.

Then you enter that world.

The world where your greatest mistake is fixed.

However, as Daisy finds, your still May’s daughter. However, something is different.

You’re a TA for Coulson at his school. You aren’t a SHIELD agent.

You have a normal life.

It’s jarring to you at first, but you sink into the role as if it’s natural.

Meanwhile, you see that you and May are a bit distant here in this life, but there’s still a parental-child dynamic.

Jemma finds you first, at the school.

Then you meet with Daisy and all hug, having found one another.

Then you’re all right back in the thick of it, this time with Ward as you knew him: Kind, loyal, genuine.

To make it worse, you’re then stuck.

The rest of it goes pretty much the way most things do for you guys: badly.

However, when Daisy is caught, she brings up the fact that she knows you and that you are in the resistance to May.

You’re phone then rings, but you don’t answer, too busy helping the civilians in the base.

Now May is worried in this world too.

She springs Daisy, all in an effort to find you.

When she see’s you, she’s surprised to see you.

You’ve been a bit estranged as of late in this life.

She sees you are helping people and being in a natural element.

She’s reminded of the little girl who she used to be so close too.

“Y/N.” You turn in surprise to see your mother.

“Hi Mom.” You say, not quite sure how to act.

“I’m guessing you sure the report on the news?”

“Yeah, you’re footage. You did good, Mom.”

Tears come to her eyes at your praise.

Daisy smiles as she see’s the interaction.

You meet her eyes as you and your mother hug, you mouth to her “Thank you.”

You all get out, but you can’t even celebrate as Space them comes around and grabs you all.

You, like Jemma, are taken as a maid/slave and deafened.

You’re just kind of numb to this world, bottling it up.

You’re used as leverage against Daisy. She wouldn’t act brash if it would get her sisters killed.

And that bet was right.

When you are escaping and go to the lift, you’re shocked when Daisy wants to stay. You want to go to her and stay with her but May stops you.

However, Coulson stops that before it can even happen, Icing Daisy.

While May understands the reasons for you wanting to be with your best friend, she’s now a bit on edge with you.

So, when you go back to present day, she makes sure to keep an eye on you more.

Daisy, meanwhile, is a bit more evasive. Always fining ways to not go on missions.

It all culminates in the fear dimension.

You’re fear has always been losing your family. So, as you leave your room, the lights flicker before coming back on.

It’s everyone, dead.

You scream as you see it.

However, while this is going on, Daisy is also being tortured by the Doctor side of Fitz.

When that ends, your screams are still being heard.

The team (minus Daisy and Fitz) rush to you and see what you’re looking at.

Jemma quickly runs to you and assures you it’s not real. It takes a moment before you go with her logic.

Then she drops it, “Daisy needs you.”

You’re still a bit angsty after your trip with fear. But you’re little sister needs you.

You enter the room and see her lying on her bed.

You sit at the foot of it, knowing that she wouldn’t want to talk.

You just sit there, hoping your presence would be enough.

May enters a bit later, sitting next to you and taking your hand in her own.

After this incident, Daisy is a lot bossier and pushier.

You don’t mind it at first, but you do clash at times.

Then Ruby dies.

Then Coulson.

Then Fitz.

Then you’re in space and looking for your brother and you both have time to fix the gap in your friendship.

“I’m sorry.” She says.

“You’re good –”

“No, I mean it, Y/NN. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“Daisy…. you couldn’t help it. We process things differently. Yours was more external.”

“And yours? I heard about your fear.”

“…. I don’t know if I have yet.”

“Me neither.”

So, that’s what you both do when alone together. You try and help each other through the shit you’ve gone through.

You just sit together in a room, writing reports, or in silence and looking at space.

You remind each other that you aren’t alone.

That you both have family right here.

Daisy even tells you about the kiss between Coulson and May. You both share a laugh at the story.

Returning home and reuniting with your mom is a blessing. You both hugs.

She’s even smiling!

But then you find out that Phil Coulson has sort of returned. This time with no knowledge of who he is.

Kind of like a shadow of himself.

Daisy and you are both freaked by it. Your father figure has returned but has no knowledge of himself or you both.

Despite being the older sister, Daisy is the one who snapes to attention and pulls you away. Pulls you around the corner before your breathing picks up.

“What the fuck?” You ask.

“Y/N,” She keeps her voice soft, “I know that this is fucked up. I know, trust me. But we can get through this, ok? You and me against the world, right?” She holds a hand to you.

You grasp it with your own, “Us against the world.”

That mantra is a thing you keep repeating as the two of you go on the truck journey with Sarge (Coulson’s shadow) along with your mother.

You can tell May is rattled too, but she seems to hold hope that this can bring Coulson back.

You aren’t so sure. You and Daisy both share that.

But you go with it for your mother’s sanity.

Coulson was the closest you had to a father after Andrew’s death. So, you understood with the way May felt about him would make her think this way.

You are the one to talk to May when she shoots Sarge.

“Seriously, Mom?”

“I don’t – I don’t remember doing that, Y/N.”

“…. I believe you.”

Then Izel starts taking over people, your mother being one of her victims.

When it comes to sharing information that no one else would know, Daisy is the one who clears you.

“When Y/N was on the run, she made a little grave for Andrew. It held a little silver box.”

May looks at you with sadness, but you nod and confirm it.

You are with Daisy when you hear that May is down.

While Daisy s hurt and blaming herself, she immediately looks to you.

You just stare at the radio.

“Y/N…. hey. Hey, look at me.” You do, “We’ll get her back, ok? We’ll fix this.”

“She – She’s dead, Daisy. My mom’s dead!”

“Hey, no! She’s just down. I promise you; she’ll be ok.”

It’s enough to keep you going, but now you and Daisy are fuelled by one of the most powerful things on earth: Hate.

She uses her powers; you fire every bullet that you have.

When your mother returns, you see that she’s weakened. She looks like a corpse.

She falls, but you catch her.

“Mom, mom, mom. I got you, I got you.”

Dais kneels next to you but holds one of May’s hands as you stroke your mother’s hair.

“Y/N…I – I wanted it to be him.”

“I know.”

Your mother gives you a smile that communicates something she doesn’t have a strength to say: I’m so proud of you.

Then she closes her eyes.

She’s gone.

Melinda May is gone.

Your mother is gone.

You let out a sob as it fully hits you.

Then a different version of Jemma enters the room and puts May in a pod.

Well, tries, but you interfere.

“No! Don’t you touch her!”

“Y/N They need to –” Daisy tries to stop you. But it’s Jemma who does it.

“Y/N, May will be ok. The pod will keep her alive.” She assures you.

“It better.”

Now you’re back in time. For you guys, only a few minutes have passed.

Robot Coulson is here, and May will live.

Your family is back together. But you aren’t the same.

You’re still processing.

Just before you leave to go out, Daisy stops you.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to shut me out. It’s ok if you –”

“She died, Daisy! She died. And now she’s not. Coulson did, and now he’s here. I mean – I – I don’t.”

Daisy told you to stay on the Zephier. You did.

Then May woke up, as an empath who felt others’ emotions, but not her own.

She did, however, feel your familial love for herself and Daisy full on. Along with your conflicted feelings about her being back and alive.

However, it allowed her to be more in touch with you. As she could tell when you were lying.

That led to lots of looks from here that just told you that she knew.

It was nice though, like you guys were when you were younger.

When it all came to an end, May was a teacher, and you were her assistant.

You guys did the calls with the others.

Your family.

Sometimes, it would just be you and Daisy, catching up and having chats that lasted hours. May didn’t dare interrupt you then.

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 19

The Confrontation

Chapter 18 | Masterlist | Chapter 20

Warnings: Crying, shouting, accidental dead naming, alcohol

“REMUS! WAIT!” Virgil shouted, running after him. It took a lot of restraint for Janus to not immediately follow. He turned to Talyn, who looked extremely confused (not that Janus blamed them).

“Talyn, please escort the other two… guests to my room once they’ve exited the bathroom.” He turned to Roman. “Follow me.” He began speed walking in the direction Remus had run, not stopping to wait for Roman. Sure enough, Roman ran after him, soon speed walking right next to him. Janus ignored him for the moment, heading in a specific direction. Even though Remus liked to say otherwise, he was extremely predictable for Janus. Whenever Remus was trying to avoid people, he would try and lose them in the East Wing before hiding in the boiler room, which was located in the West Wing. Virgil never knew where Remus hid (mostly because Remus was usually running after pranking Virgil, so Virgil would give chase until he gave up and went to give up) but Janus had discovered his hiding spot the first time they performed here. He had never brought it up, simply because he had no reason to. Now, it would prove useful. As he headed to the boiler room, Roman spoke up.

“So,” Janus forced himself to not flinch; he’d forgotten that Roman was there. “Ree didn’t give a very good explanation. Did you know who she-”

“He.” Janus cut in, never breaking his stride. “He left because your parents didn’t accept him as their son. Virgil and I met him when he was 18. Before now, he assumed you were a transphobe and homophobe, just like your parents.” He let his tone grow emotionless. “I assume that’s not the case?”

Roman shook his head. “I stopped believing what my parents told me the day Ree left. I didn’t even realize how much I depended on her- him- fuck. It’s gonna take a minute to break that habit.”

Soon enough, they reached the boiler room, and just in the nick of time. Janus and Roman walked up to the door just as Virgil ran down the hallway, tears in his eyes. “I lost him. I’ve searched everywhere and-” Janus raised his hand, shutting Virgil up. He gestured towards the boiler room. Virgil’s eyes lit up as he approached the door. He pushed open the door without knocking, knowing that Remus would try and hide if he knocked.

The room was large, filled with different machines and pipes. Remus sat in the corner, his knees pressed to his chest, tears streaming down his face. Roman whimpered, “Oh, ReeRee.” Remus’ eyes shot up to meet Roman’s, and he instinctively curled in on himself. Roman whimpered again, and Janus spoke up.

“I believe it would be best if Anxiety stayed to act as mediator. I will go check on our other guests.” With that, Janus turned on his heel and walked out. While Janus wanted nothing more than to stay and comfort Remus, he knew that he was too overprotective to stay. The twins needed to get this off their chests without interruption, and Janus knew he would snap at Roman the second he said something that could offend Remus. Virgil had always been good at keeping silent when necessary, and Janus trusted him to stop them if things got too... intense.

Janus hurried back to his room, where he found Talyn, Patton and Logan. Patton shot up off the couch and started asking about Roman and Remus. Logan stared at Janus like he was a puzzle he was trying to solve. Even with the heavy makeup on his face, Janus had never felt more exposed. Logan suddenly scowled at Janus, as if he was the bane of Logan’s existence. Before Janus could process what that meant, the scowl was gone, and Logan had his hand on Patton’s shoulder.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Logan assured him, rubbing small circles into his shoulders. Patton turned into putty in his hands. “Deceit wouldn’t have left Roman unattended if the situation wasn’t fully under control.” If Talyn or Patton noticed the ice in Logan’s tone when he said Deceit, they didn’t show it. Janus quickly put up a mask of cool indifference.

“Yess.” Deceit practically hissed out. “I left Anxiety to act as a mediator. Your boyfriend will be fine.” Deceit hoped that they’d be fine. Lying to Virgil’s crushes didn’t seem like a good idea.

Logan suddenly spun Patton around so he was facing Logan. “Why don’t you and Talyn go and get the Uno cards out of the car? I suspect that it might be a while before they’ve finished talking.” Deceit had a feeling that Logan just wanted the two of them alone.

“Alright, Lolo!” Patton said, giving Logan a quick kiss before grabbing Talyn’s hand. “C’mon, Kiddo! I’ve got a tupperware of snickerdoodles in the car that I think you’ll love!” With that, they were gone.

Logan immediately turned on Deceit, his face showing no emotion. “Was he ever going to tell us?”

Deceit walked to the corner of the room, where a bottle of scotch sat. He poured two glasses. “I have absolutely no idea as to what you are referring to.” He held out the glass, hoping that the subtle shaking of his hand didn’t give him away.

Logan scoffed, grabbing the glass and drinking it in one go. He winced at the burning sensation. “C’mon, Janus, don’t play coy with me.”

Janus sighed, taking a small sip before sitting on the sofa. “As far as I’m aware, he was planning on showing up on the 20th in his favorite hoodie. I believe Patton made it for him? If that didn’t give it away, I don’t know what would.” He took another sip. “I was hoping you would figure it out the day I gave you that CD. I mean, why would I of all people give you it? And before you ask, that was the same day Virgil realized that the three people he was flirting with were you three. Before that, he had used the sickeningly sweet nicknames.”

Logan sighed, slouching in a way that looked almost painful. “I don’t know what to think anymore. While I understand why he would keep this,” he gestured around vaguely, “a secret, it still feels like he… betrayed us.” He laughed harshly. “And here I was, feeling awful for having feelings for both Anxiety and Virgil, when they’re the same person!” He laughed again, but this time he didn’t stop. Tears started streaming down his face. “And the worst part is, I still love him! I should feel angry, and want nothing to do with him, but I don’t! I want to hold him, and kiss him, and reassure him that this won’t change my opinion of him. I want to love him like I pray he loves me!” He started sobbing by this point, and Janus quickly pulled him into a hug. They sat there for several minutes, his sobs being the only sound in the quiet room. When he was done, Janus silently offered the rest of his glass. Logan turned it down, opting instead to curl his knees up to his chest, rocking slowly back and forth.

Janus sighed, downing the rest of his scotch. “While I cannot speak for Virgil, I believe in what I told you the first time we met: Virgil has no intention of ever harming you. He deeply cares about the three of you, enough to be willing to share some of his most secretive parts of himself. He’s constantly talking about at least one of you. And he would do anything to make the three of you happy. There’s no object too valuable, no request too obscene. He would give you three the world if he could.” Janus sighed. “But he’s scared. Remus and I have been Virgil’s only family. We kept this a secret so that our relatives never found out. Up until now, Remus believed that all of his relatives were transphobic and homophobic assholes. And my family has never been known for their kindness.” His hand went to touch his makeup, where his scar lied underneath. “Virgil has kept us safe for so long, and he didn’t want to throw it away to a bunch of strangers. But soon it stopped being fear of you exposing us. Now it’s fear of you rejecting Virgil for keeping this a secret.”

Logan sighed, his legs slowly lowering to touch the ground. “I understand, but it’s still so…”

“Much?” Logan nodded. “Then I advise you to go home and think about it. Virgil is still planning on revealing himself to you in 3 days. Until then, use this time to let it fully sink in. Don’t tell Virgil that you know; he needs to tell you on his own.”

Before they could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. “We’re back!” Patton popped in with a large container of snickerdoodles. Talyn tagged along with a large pack of Uno cards. “Now let’s play!”

Janus smiled at Patton, moving to sit on the floor. He saw Logan do the same. Janus internally sighed. He hoped that the twins resolved their issues soon. For everyone’s sake.

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Virgil sighed, taking in the sight. Remus sat still, his back facing Roman. Roman stood there, apparently unable to speak. Virgil decided to speak up. “Would it be easier if I explain the situation, so that way everyone’s on the same page?” Remus flinched but didn’t object. Roman nodded helplessly. “Alright. Here’s what I know: Remus realized that he was a guy in late Middle School/early High School. He started portraying himself in a more masculine way, such as attempting to join the football team and getting a more masculine haircut. Your parents are transphobic assholes, so they belittled Remus for acting similar to Roman. Roman’s desire to please your parents combined with his low self-esteem caused him to believe that acting like Roman was the issue, not acting masculine. On the night that Remus was going to come out to Roman, all of Roman’s insecurities boiled over and he snapped at Remus. Once he realized that he had gone too far, Roman decided to go away and cool off. But it was too late. Remus came out to your parents and they kicked him out. So, Remus ran away. Remus found me and Deceit and we formed The Dark Sides. Roman, not knowing that Remus had transitioned and believing that he was the reason that Remus left, started acting out against his parents. He broke up with his girlfriend, got together with Patton and Logan, and moved away as soon as he graduated. Any questions?”

They stood there in silence for several minutes. Virgil started to feel uncomfortable. Did it usually take this long to process information? Or maybe they were using that freaky twin thing where you can communicate without speaking?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Roman said, his voice cracking slightly.

Remus’ eyes snapped up to meet Roman’s. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Roman asked again, anger lacing his words. “I was your brother! I wouldn’t reject you just because-”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT?!” Remus screamed. “You blew up in my face because I was starting to look and act like you! How was I supposed to say, ‘yeah, I also wanna have the same gender as you too!’ You wanted nothing more than to believe those assholes that you called our parents! Can you honestly say that you wouldn’t have agreed with them, if only to be put back into their good graces?” Roman remained silent. “I thought so.” Remus spat out, standing up. “Look, I’m glad that you’re finally out from under their thumbs, I really am. But VeeVee and J are my family now. They have been for years. And I’m not gonna abandon them just because you want your perfect little sister back-”

“BUT I DON’T!” Now Roman was the one screaming. “I don’t want some facade of a perfect sister! I want ReeRee back! The one that helped me face my fears. The one that held me during thunderstorms and teased me when I did something stupid. I want the person who promised that they’ll always catch me. And if that person’s now my brother, then so be it.” He took a step forward. “You can use whatever name or pronouns you want, that doesn’t change who you are. And you’re my twin. My family. And I will burn this place to the ground before I lose you again.”

They were both sobbing now, and Roman opened his arms in silent invitation. Remus ran towards him, burying his head into Roman’s chest. They stood there for several minutes, the sounds of their sobs being the only sounds in the room. Once they both stopped crying, Virgil spoke up.

“I know a lot has just happened in the past 30 minutes.” They both jumped, probably forgetting that Virgil was there. “But I think it would be best if the two of you give each other some space. Go home, get some rest, and think about what this means moving on. Why don’t you guys exchange phone numbers so you can talk later?” They nodded. “Good. You both have quite a bit of information to process. You both can have a much more in-depth conversation once you’ve both calmed down.” He opened the door, leading both of them to Janus’ room. While this wasn’t the scenario that Virgil envisioned, it wasn’t the worst one either. Hopefully the twins could fully reconcile with one another. Goodness knows the two needed it.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

I’m gonna post chapter three wicked early. I’ll make a chapter list and link tehm alll together as soon as I figure out how.

Abuse mentions. 

Chapter Three: Young Volcanos by Fall Out Boy

               What are you doing!? Don’t show weakness! Virgil’s thoughts screamed at him.

               No, I’m warm and safe. A different thought argued.

               You don’t know him! What if everybody is like Dad!?

               Then I’m already screwed!

               He’ll use this against you!

               How?

               You think I know? I don’t think like them!

               Maybe he doesn’t either!

               You put your guard back up this instant!

               Let me enjoy this…

               Virgil ignored his louder instincts for the time being and pressed his head further into Patton’s shoulder. It was a nice feeling, and sure he probably couldn’t trust this guy, but he was going to enjoy feeling like this while he could. Patton seemed like a nice guy, and he smelled like butter. And everything else smelled like hand sanitizer, and it was cold because it was a hospital. But Patton was all warm.

               Besides, even if he was going to do anything, he couldn’t with witnesses hanging around and security cameras everywhere. Maybe this was ok. Maybe this was normal. Virgil let himself slide down lower and rested his head on Patton’s lap.

               “Ya getting sleepy there, kiddo?” Patton cooed, still stroking his hair.

               “No, I’m ok.” Virgil mumbled. This was nice. He wanted to stay here.

               “Ok.”

               Virgil became aware of Patton’s heartbeat it was going fast. Was he nervous too? That was weird. Why was he worried?

               Virgil sighed. Both Patton and Thomas were probably waiting for him to say something. Hell, they were probably expecting him start belting songs from Annie or jump up and click his heels. It’s not everyday someone gets pulled out of hell and sent somewhere better, so they were probably looking for a more mood fitting reaction than lying down and taking a nap. One more minute.

               “So, what happens now?” Virgil asked, keeping his head on Patton’s lap. One more minute.

               “Well, Patton has already signed all the forms and the background check should be coming back tomorrow.” Thomas answered, for whatever reason he looked really content. “So, as soon as you’re discharged you can go home with him.”  

               “When can I be discharged?” He was trying not to sound too eager. If they knew he wanted something they could probably use that to toy with him.

               “I’m afraid that’s up to your doctors.”

               “Ok.” That made sense.

               “But when you do get out, we’ll have your room all ready.” Patton chirped at him. “And you’ll need to tell me what all your favorite foods are so I can make them.”

               What an odd thing to say. I guess I should get up. One more minute.

               “Ok.” He mumbled.

               “Oh, and do you have any allergies or eating restrictions. Like vegetarian or vegan and the like?”

               “No.” One more minute.

               “As for right now.” Thomas sounded hesitant, was he going to kick Patton out? “Your doctors and I need to document your bruises. And if you want to you can make a statement for prosecution.”

               “Right now?” Virgil sighed, no more hitting reality’s snooze bar. He slowly pulled himself back up.

               “It is better we do it sooner rather than later.” Thomas sighed. “Patton can stay if you’d like him to.”

               “Good idea, I was hoping for an even bigger group of people to see me in my underwear.” Virgil sneered, rubbing his arm. Despite his will he also felt his face going red. Damnit.

               “I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s kind of a necessary evil.”

               Virgil sighed and glanced at Patton. He might as well stay. This was as good a test to see if he was weird as any. Right? Yeah, he could be a serial killer, or this could be his kink or something like that. Best to know what he was going to get himself into. Just that. That and no other reason.

               “I mean, he can stay if he wants to.” Virgil mumbled impassively. “It’s a free country, he can do whatever.”

               “I’ll give you your privacy.” Patton replied, ruffling his hair. “I’ll come back in when they’re done kiddo.”

               Patton stood up and took a few steps towards the door. Virgil’s heart sank. Patton abruptly stopped and turned around.

               Are you gonna stay?

               “I almost forgot to give you this.” Patton said happily. “this should help you ‘bear’ your stay here.”

               Patton gleefully produced a stuffed bear and gently set in his mummified hands. As the toy stared derpilly up at him he got the joke and impulsively smiled. Then he saw the pun written across the bear and let out a laugh. Double whammy with the dad jokes. He glanced at Patton and saw that the older man was beaming (bee-ming?), clearly enthralled that Virgil liked the joke.

               “He’s cool.” Virgil tried to play it off. “Thanks.”

               “You’re welcome.” Patton turned back to the door. “I’ll be right out here if you need me. Ok?”

               “Ok.”

               Patton closed the door behind him only to reappear in the window and wave enthusiastically at him. He mouthed out the words I’ll be right here and gave a thumbs up. Virgil waved in return and fought back another smile. Patton was a funny guy and so far, he seemed pretty cool.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton shook his arms to get the relief tinglies to calm down. Everything seemed to go well. Virgil didn’t hate him, and he even liked dad jokes. And he liked the bear. So far things were going well.

               He saw them close the blinds in Virgil’s room so that no one in the hallway could peep in on him. They must have started cataloging his bruises. Patton hoped his brother had a mean cellmate. He made a mental note to look up a few legal things when he got home.

               While waiting Patton sent Logan a quick text to let him know everything was going ok on his end and to ask what was going on in the outside world.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Logan set another casserole dish on top of the stove. He had to shove aside the other three dishes, the two pies and the pot of soup. Both Patton’s library friends and all their neighbors had been at it for hours.

               “How many friends does Patton have?” Roman exclaimed, walking into the kitchen with a Tupperware of pasta. “And why are they all old ladies?”

               “Some of them are just parents whose kids were in his class.” Logan sighed. “He’s a lot of kids’ favorite teacher.”

               “Is the fridge full?”

               “Yes, just set the pasta on the table.”

               “Any updates on the news?” Roman set the dish down exhaustedly.

               “No, not yet.” Logan looked at his phone. “Patton texted. He says that Virgil’s fine, and seems excited to come live with us. And of course, he wants to know how we are.”

               “Drowning in food and tired of small talk.” Roman switched into a frail voice. “It was so brave of you to rescue that boy. It’s so good of you three to take that boy in like this. It’s about time Patton and Logan adopted a kid.” He changed back. “I never thought I would get sick of praise. I feel like Jack Skellington.”

               “Minus the kidnapping I hope.”

               “You’re the one with the kid now.” Roman jabbed, eating the pasta straight from the dish with his hands.

               “Roman, get a plate.” Logan began.

               They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

               “If that’s Barbra from next door I’m calling the police.” Roman stood up dramatically.

               “It’s my turn to deal with callers,” Logan walked towards the hallway. “But if it is her, I’m getting you.”

               “Let’s set her up with my brother the next time we know where he is.” Roman laughed. “She’ll never speak to us again.”

               “Neither will Remus.”

               Logan could still hear Roman laughing when he got to the front door. He glanced through the peephole to see if it was indeed well-wishers. He instead saw several smartly dressed people bearing cameras and tape recorders rather than food. With few other options he turned out the lights in the front room and went back into the kitchen.

               Roman was taking inventory when he got back.

               “Say Lo-bot, how much of this could we take to the homeless shelter?” He asked casually. “I don’t want to be disrespectful or ungrateful, but this is a lot. The freezer is full, the refrigerator is full, and the oven is full. It would be more disrespectful to let this go to waste when the less fortunate could have it.”  

               “We will discuss that later,” Logan took the car keys off the rack. “But it is a good idea.”

               “Where are you going?” Roman squinted at him.

               “I’m going to pick Patton up from the hospital.”

               “Who was at the door?”

               “Reporters have found us. I’m all for the first amendment, but I do not wasn’t to be harassed in my own home. So, I’m leaving.”

               “But won’t they go away if we talk to them?”

               “Yes, but then they, and all others will think it’s okay to show up at people’s houses.”

               Roman looked around.

               “We could ask them in for dinner.” He laughed.

               “But we won’t.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton sat at the foot of the bed while Virgil sat across from him at the head. Virgil was sitting cross-legged with his casted foot poking out from under the blanket and the bear in his lap. Patton clicked his heels together; it was very quiet.

               “You’re not much of a talker.” Patton teased.

               “My throat hurts.” Virgil answered.

               “Oh, right. Sorry.”

               WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!!!

               “So, you’re really my dad’s brother?” Virgil asked skeptically.

               “Yeah, he’s about three years older than me.”

               “And you’re related?”

               “Yep, people used to mistake us for twins. Until I had to get glasses.”

               Virgil coughed and tapped the bear on the nose a few times.

               “This isn’t actually my first time meeting you.” Patton started. “My mom and I kind of did a lot of the raising when you were a baby.”

               “Is that stuff dad said true?”

               “No.” Patton dropped his shoulders. “It’s not. Our mother was wonderful and supportive. She even took Logan in after-” He stopped himself. “No, it’s not true. He was the homophobe.”

               “Yeah, I never really believed the pseudo-rape story.” Virgil shifted his feet. “Dad always seemed more like a predatory animal. And maybe that was a front, but if it was it was flawless.”

               “I think Payton said something about being with her for posterity.” Patton rubbed his arm. “She was really pretty and was a cheer leader in high school. And a lot of guys wanted to be with her. So, it was like a triumph for him.”

               “He told you?” Virgil coughed.

               “No. I just kind of figured. He did say he was gonna marry her, you know when we found out about you.”

               “Why?”

               “Because.” Patton mimicked his brother’s tone. “Children need a mommy and a daddy. And I have to accept my mistakes.” Patton switched back. “I never really believed him.”

               Virgil shivered and looked down into his lap. Through his bangs Patton could see him biting his lip.

               “I’m sorry.” Patton said quickly, but softly. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. I should have known that would hit too close to home for you. I’m sorry.”

               Virgil looked at him quizzically and his eyes darted around the room. He seemed utterly baffled. Still looking like the world had just flipped over Virgil crawled over and put his head back into Patton’s lap.

               “Are you ok, Kiddo?”

               “Yeah,” He sounded stunned. “I’m fine. I-I just need to pull my thoughts together.”

               “I get what you mean.” Patton tried to lighten the mood. “I never think straight, just ask my husband.”

               Virgil laughed very softly.

               “We’re gonna have to get that laugh stronger.” Patton teased, stroking his hair. “As soon as your throat is better, we’ll have you practice.”

               “Practice?”

               “Practice laughing, ya goof!”

               “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Virgil said in a strained voice.

               “No, you’re wide awake.” Patton soothed. “And I can prove it. Your throat hurts, doesn’t it?”

               “Like I swallowed a bag of razors.”

               “Well, you can’t feel pain in dreams. And you can only feel one emotion at a time in them.”

               “Really?”

               “Yeppers, if you’re having a happy dream, you’re happy in the dream and nothing else. Same for all the other types of dreams. And they’re never this elaborate.”

               “I guess not.” Virgil yawned.

               “And you can’t get tired in a dream, now can you?” Patton asked, booping the younger man on the nose. “And you can’t learn something you don’t know in a dream, because it’s in your mind. And you don’t know what you don’t know.”

               “So, this is real?” He yawned again. “It’s not a dream or an act or something.”

               “Nope, it’s as real as that sore throat of yours.”

               “Ok.” Virgil sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. “You can keep talking if you want.”

               “Maybe I’d better go until you’re feeling better.” Patton brushed his fingers through Virgil’s hair. It was starting to feel like he hadn’t showered, which was fair.

               “Can you stay until I fall asleep?” Virgil mumbled, halfway asleep already.

               “Of course, I can.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton paced into the waiting room. Logan had texted him saying he was coming to pick him up. He thought that was a bit unnecessary, but it would be nice to not have to take the bus.

               “Maybe Logan missed me.” Patton said to himself with a coy smile. “I guess we’ll have to pick up dinner on the way back.”

               Patton slid into one of the uncomfortable chairs that normally furnished all waiting rooms. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Maybe he’d just tune out for a minute.

               “In other news we have conformation that the destruction of former mayoral candidate Payton Foster’s home last night was in fact arson. Traces of accelerant were found inside the house, leaving Mr. Foster himself as the prime suspect. Police believe he was attempting to destroy evidence of previous crimes for which he had been accused. His teenage son is reported to have escaped the fire with minor injury thanks to the actions of a heroic stranger. That’s quite the Disney convince, eh, Garbo?”

               Patton glanced wearily at the TV as the reporter’s counterpart took over.

               “But he’s not so strange anymore now Malloy. We did figure who he is. Seems that drama teacher slash community theater star Roman Lupine has gotten tired of the stage and is out there looking for drama in real life. That may suit Mr. Lupine, but I think here on Garbo and Malloy we would just stick to playing fictional heroes.”

               Patton started looking for a remote to change the channel or just flat out turn this thing off. The publicity was bad enough, but he hated these guys’ banter. How did they even get this job?

               “And of course, we all recognize Mr. Lupine from his press infiltration over a week ago.” Malloy droned.

               “Speaking of the ShareBook incident, most of our sources believe that Foster’s brother will be taking custody of his son.” Garbo, who was aptly named countered. “But so far no one has been able to get a hold of any of them.”

               “Well let’s hope Mr. Foster and his husband are prepared for their new son coming out as straight.” Malloy swung for the obvious joke.

               The two trash goblins laughed like they were those guys from the Muppets and they mercifully changed the subject.

               “Next up on Garbo and Malloy, Garbo and Malloy go dumpster diving.”

               “Don’t come back.” Patton pleaded as he finally found the remote and shut the TV off. “And Thomas already told that joke.”

               He slid back into a chair and sighed hard. How could anyone joke or bant about this? It was a little like saying Anne Frank was bad at hide and seek, it wasn’t funny. It was just tasteless. And were they making fun of Roman?

               “Excuse me, I’m looking for a patient by the name of Foster.” Someone interrupted his brooding and worsened his mood.

               “Are you family?” The receptionist countered.

               “No, I’m with the press, I’d like to see if he or his current guardians are willing to do an interview.”

               “Come back tomorrow.”

               Not willing to do that, Patton his behind a chair until he was sure this man was gone.

                                                                               #             #             #

               The car ride home was saturated in a tense quiet for the first few minutes. With a look they all communicated exactly what they knew to one another. Unfortunately, they all knew a lot of the same things. Both Patton and Logan had at least fifty unchecked messages on their phones and Roman was in the back seat agitatedly sending out explanations to every single person in his contact list.

               “How has everyone in Florida found out about this so quickly?” Roman sighed from his spot on the back. “One of my students texted me somehow knowing that I was in the hospital last night. I have never been so fed up with the age of information.”

               “They were talking about you on Garbo and Malloy.” Patton added in a barely audible mumble.

               “Were they reviewing the play?”

               “No, they were talking about the fire.”

               “Those two discuss current events?” Logan interrupted, sounding absolutely dumbfounded.

               “Not very well.” Patton sighed. “They were making fun of Roman.”

               “Oh, of course that were!” Roman barked. He then slid into a mimic of one of the reporters. “Next up on Garbage and Malloy, Garbage and Malloy let a child burn to death in a fire, ‘cause people who try to help are just attention seekers. hA ha Ha HA.”

               “Several of your friends from work brought us food and expressions of good luck.” Logan added, evidently trying to change the subject.

               “Aww, that’s sweet.” Patton melted into his seat. “All this talk of my brother was starting to make me doubt humanity.”

               “Well,” Logan sighed. “I certainly hope you’re hungry.”

               A question bounced back and forth between Logan and Roman. Well, more like the question. And the question took turns resting in their brains and mouths but remained unspoken.

               “Patton,” Logan sighed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.  “Did Payton actually…” He couldn’t say it.

               “Yes.” Patton gagged on the words, they tasted vile. “He did.”

               With that the silence returned.

[razorblade180]

This is for the kiddos, was there a time you've seen your parents mad enough that it scared you? For the Schnee kids, feel free to include your mother's alter ego.

Jael:I never get yelled at. Bad heart means I get calm but very disappointed lectures. I beat myself up more about my shortcomings than they do.

Sienna:One time I was half asleep outside and Jael put a flower crown on me. It startled me and I hit her on instinct; she was three. Dad didn’t mean to snap on me but he totally did and then I remembered something. My dad used to murder as easy as breathing and it scared to the point of crying.

Jacquelyn:Then ge freaked because now he had two crying kids and no way to calm them. It was a long day.

Tenzen:So this didn’t happen with my parents but one time I subconsciously closed the door to Yujin’s room and half a second later it comes flying open and Jaune is just staring at. I felt like a mouse looking at a snake. I never made that mistake again.

Yujin: One time my dad took me to Argus and someone was defacing the Pyrrha statue. The amount of base I heard in his voice when he screamed at the kids after he caught them made me realize not to be a good kid and not do anything stupid. I did run away into the forest when I was little though a boy was he furious when he found out.

Nicholas:Mom wasn’t happy that I broke into Atlas’s military base but I think auntie was ay more furious. If I had to pick something that truly felt like I dug my own grave it was maxing out my credit card on buying Disney World for a day.

Yujin:Don’t rich people do that all the time?

Nicholas:Oh I’m not finished. I did it on the day girl I know was supposed to have her birthday bash at some spectacular hotel and mall. I tweeted about it and got everyone who was supposed to go to her thing to come to Disney World. The whole thing trended, Summer performed at Disney Castle with Casey Lee Williams, celebrities showed up, and that girl was denied access in.

Jael:Damn....

Carmine:Okay, you make me feel slightly better about what I’ll talk about because what you did was stone cold.

Nicholas:Yeah mom is not a big fan of people using money to ruin someone else’s life so you can imagine how completely ashamed she was when she found out why I bought Disney World. I ended up having to work off and reimburse all the preparations for Eliza Marigolds party. Summer didn’t get in trouble.

Summer:I thought we were having fun; not doing something petty. *clears throat* So as a singer and a person with a lot of recognition in Atlas, it’s very important you stay humble. It’s unbecoming to abuse such pow-

Nicholas:When Summer first became famous she went there a brief diva phase and used fans to get anything she wanted. I’m talking a total power trip.

Summer :Food, clothes, skipped lines, became a bit of a.......you know. Mom tried to tell me to tone it down but I didn’t listen. *red* I told her to “mind her own business and her time in the limelight was done.”

Everyone:.....

Summer:She walked right into her room and came back in black for the first time in a very long time. Bleiss straightend me up in a few hours and I learned my lesson. A very....very scary lesson.

Lucas:I tried to leave Menagerie in the dead of night before. If mom could do it then I wanted to see if I could too.

Jael:(Why are all rich people this extra?)

Lucas:So what I didn’t really process all the way through is how much this would scare my mom to death and she sent every guard to look for me because she thought I had been kidnapped. 45 minutes later and I’m standing at my front door with a crying mother and a dad, grandpa, and grandma that made me wish that I had actually escaped.

Valerie:I was a very rowdy and temperamental kid so I got into a lot of fights. I can’t tell you how many times I got scolded for beating up a kid on the playground. I think I mellowed out nicely though. Right you two?

Summer and Nicholas:.......

Valerie:Yeah that’s fair.

Carmine:*inhales* I would just like everyone to know I was ten in this story I’m about to tell. We good? Good, so I have a cousin that’s roughly a year older than me and he’s a pretty upstanding person. Raised well and has hopes and dreams. One of those dreams is to be a really good huntsman; exceptional even. Around this time, I was already doing awesome things. Kinda looked up to me.

Yujin:I don’t like where this is going.

Carmine:When he told me his dream I may or may not have laughed right at his face.

Tenzen:Damn....

Carmine:Hold on it gets worse. I told him this because things can get rough for huntsman in my world and it’s not like he’s bad at anything; he’s average. So for him saying he’ll be exceptional was a bit ridiculous. I told him that he should lower his aspirations considering a ten year old is showing up; it didn’t help he was taller than me at this point.

Summer:It gets worse again doesn’t it?

Carmine:At this point he was getting pretty upset. Telling me how not really that much of a hotshot and he can be just as good as me. I laughed at him again then raise my fists. Our parents and some other’s are catching up in the kitchen and completely unaware that I’m about to fight my older cousin to prove my point.

Jacquelyn:You were bullying him.

Carmine:I know this now! Actually....yeah I guess I knew it then to. Back to the story, he swung a right hook and missed. He kept throwing punches and I kept dodging. Right jabs, left jabs, kicks, everything. I was determined to embarrass him in front of me. He’s crying at this point......

Everyone:Carmine!

Carmine:I’m almost done. I’m satisfied with what I’ve done at this point. The moment he throws another punch I run up on him and side kick hin right in his chest. He flies towards the door and slams against pretty hard. Parents come running in, he’s crying on the floor, I’m shaking my head disappointedlly at his skills, and Ruby is looking at him like I’m a alpha beowulf that ate someone. I was grounded for awhile and put in my place. Also I had to do whatever my cousin wanted to do the rest of time we were together. Moral of the story, don’t try crush your family member’s dreams.

Yujin:Does he still wanna be a huntsman?

Carmine:Surprisingly yes.

[tonystarkstan]

you’re still young (that’s not your fault)

Summary: Being a superhero? Hard. Being a superhero in high school? Harder. Luckily, he’s got Iron Man on his side.

or, five times Tony goes to Peter’s school and one time Peter goes with him to work.

Note: This is posted on my AO3, but it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, so I thought I’d share it here! I hope you guys like it.

“So like, the issue is that I like learning and I need to go to school to get a good education in order to be qualified for an actual career,” Peter tells Ned as they stand at their lockers.

“How is that an issue?” Ned asks in confusion.

Peter sighs dramatically. “I hate school,” he says, as if that explains everything.

Ned nods sympathetically. “Makes sense. Oh, the joys of social hierarchy. Also, I forgot the solubility rules, so I totally bombed that part of the quiz today. Which means I’m probably going to fail, which means I’ll be kicked out of school, which means I’ll have to work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life and live off of a minimum wage salary.”

Peter pats his back consolingly. “You and me both, man. School just proves what we already knew: the world is conspiring against us.”

Ned scoffs. “Okay, but at least you have Spider-Man,” he points out, saying the name quietly so no one overhears.

Peter gives him a weird look. “Oh yeah, loved getting bitten by a fucking radioactive spider. It was like getting a kiss from Mother Nature.”

Ned shrugs. “Who cares? You’re staying with Tony freaking Stark. How is that, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s great!” he says enthusiastically. “The man has, like, zero parenting skills, so I get to eat whatever I want, and we just stay in his lab all night.”

“Dude, your life is so not real,” Ned says incredulously. “Have you heard from May?”

“Yeah, she said she’ll probably be home this weekend. I think she feels bad, but her work really needed extra hands with the hurricane relief, so it’s fine.”

“Gotcha. Hey, what do you – whoa!” Ned exclaims. “What’s going on?”

As they turn the corner, as large mass of students clogs the hall, all trying to peer over each other to get a look at whatever’s caught their attention. Before Ned and Peter can get any closer, though, the crowd parts down the middle by a seemingly invisible force.

That is, until Tony Stark steps through.

As usual, he’s wearing a three-piece suit, his trademark sunglasses, and in his hands is – what the fuck? – a Spider-Man lunchbox.

Tony’s eyes lands on the pair of them, and he casually makes his way over to them, as if Iron Man walking through a high school is normal.

“Hey, Pete! I was just looking for you,” he informs Peter.

“Hi, uh, Mr. Stark. Um. Hi. What are you, uh, doing here?” he asks, trying to ignore all the blatant stares that are now focused on them.

“What? A billionaire can’t just come by to see his favorite mentee?” He’s smirking though, and Peter knows the superhero is taking great pleasure out of embarrassing him.

“No,” he retorts flatly.

Tony puts his hand on his chest dramatically. “Oh, how you wound me. Betrayed! By one of my very own! What ever did I do to deserve such treatment?”

“Jesus Christ,” Peter mutters. “What do you want? Ned and I were just about to head to lunch.”

“Ah ha! And that is where I come in. I am, as usual, here to save the day.”

Peter raises an eyebrow and gives him an unimpressed look. Tony huffs. “Sheesh, tough crowd to please, apparently.” He holds out the lunchbox. “Lunch. You left your’s.”

Peter thinks back, suddenly remembering that oh yeah, he definitely did leave his lunch on the counter. However, it’d been in his old Star Wars lunchbox that he’d had as long as he could remember.

Noticing his look, Tony gestures to the bag. “I took the liberty of getting you an upgrade. We all know how much you like Spider-Man.”

Yup, I’m definitely filling his Iron Man helmet with ramen noodles now.

“Wow. Thanks,” he says, sounding anything but. He takes the bag gingerly. “Now I won’t starve. A true hero you are. Really living up to your name.”

Tony pretends to blush. “You’re too kind. I’m just here as a completely selfless act of service.”

“Sure. So, can you, like, leave?” Peter says impatiently.

Tony shoots him an affronted look. “Well, I know when I’m not welcome. Which, let’s be honest, never actually happens because I’m a famous genius billionaire. But I really do have to get going.”

“Oh, thank god,” Peter breathes. Tony laughs and ruffles the kid’s hair, knowing it’s all in jest.

“See ya later, kid.” He turns to Ned. “And you – be sure he actually eats it.” Ned looks like he’s about to faint. And with that, Tony turns on his heel and struts out, leaving behind a bunch of astonished high schoolers. Peter’s pretty sure Flash’s jaw is about to hit the floor.

After a second of stunned silence, Ned looks over at Peter and smirks. “What was it you were saying earlier about ‘zero parenting skills’?”

Peter groans. “Shut up.”

Ned’s laughter is drowned out by the mass of students headed excitedly in their direction.

-

“Dude, you look like shit,” is how Ned greets him.

Peter doesn’t even have the energy to be offended. He certainly feels like shit, flashes of hot and cold racing through his body and forehead beading with sweat.

“It’s fine, we’re fine,” Peter says, not at all reassuringly.

“Yeah, okay,” Ned scoffs. “Why are you even here?”

Peter sags against his locker tiredly. “We’re supposed to be going over Shell integration and the Trapezoidal rule in calc today. I can’t afford to miss it. Also, we have decathlon practice after school today and MJ will kill me if I miss it. Again.”

He startles when a light slap meets the back of his head.

“Speak for yourself, loser. We don’t want your disease,” MJ says from behind him.

“Sorry, May raised me to always share,” Peter jokes. “Anywho, it’s too late for me to go home now. May’s already left for work. What a shame.”

MJ just rolls his eyes but Ned tosses him a doubtful look.

“Come on!” Peter protests. “Seriously, I don’t even feel that bad!”

Three class periods later, Peter’s more than ready to retract his earlier statement. He definitely feels that bad.

He’s in the middle of Anatomy class, and he can’t, for the life of him, keep his head up. His muscles are aching just with the small bit of effort it’s taking to use an arm to prop his head up, and he’s so, so hot but can’t seem to stop quivering.

At this point, he’s completely tuned out the teacher, entirely focused on trying to keep himself from throwing up in the middle of class because God knows Flash would never let him live that down.

His phone buzzes.

Chair Guy: dude

Chair Guy: you look like an actual zombie

Peter groans internally.

Friendly Neighborhood Peter: thanks.

Chair Guy: hey I have a great idea bc im a genius who goes to a smart kid school!!!!

Chair Guy: go :) home :)

Friendly Neighborhood Peter: no :)

Peter quickly puts his phone away, and he sees Ned shake his head in exasperation. The rest of the class passes by in a cloudy haze of sickness, and he blinks up blearily when a shadowy figure stands in front of him.

“Peter. Peter! Yo. Dude, come on, class is over. Even Dr. Arrington has left,” Ned informs him.

Peter groans, tossing an arm over his eyes with the thought that maybe if he doesn’t look at Ned, he’ll just go away.

No such luck. “Peter, if you don’t get up, I’m calling May.”

Immediately, Peter’s head shoots up, and he winces as the dull throb in his head intensifies.

“You can’t! She’s at work, her phone’s off anyway because she’s not allowed to be on it. Plus, I still have Calc! And Decathlon!” he protests, but even he can hear how weak it sounds.

Ned just rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure at this point, MJ would kick your ass if you showed up to practice. Go home and we’ll all send you a ‘Thank You’ card.”

Peter swats at him weakly.

“Peter, seriously. We gotta go,” Ned says, hoisting Peter’s bookbag onto his back. “Think you can get up?”

The vigilante stares at him blankly. Ned sighs.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbles to himself. “We are not fucking doing this.” Louder, he says, “Peter, give me your phone.”

The exhausted teen tiredly reaches into his pocket, groaning at how heavy an achy his arms are. He hands his friend the phone. If he were more aware of what’s going on, he ‘d be much more suspicious. However, at the moment, Peter wants nothing more than for his friend to stop talking so the pounding in his head will cease.

“Thank you. Stay here for a second,” Ned tells him, and Peter doesn’t even question it. Not like he could move even if he wanted to.

Maybe I can Uber to my Spanish class, his feverish brain thinks.

He’s not actually sure how long he drifts in and out of clarity, but at some point, he opens his eyes to feel a gentle hand carding its way through his hair, and he instinctively leans in towards it.

“Hey, Pete,” a soft voice says. It’s a nice voice, Peter thinks. Not too rough, but just enough gravel in it to create a low comforting sound. And it’s… vaguely familiar.

Peter lowers his eyebrows in confusion and wills his eyes to open – when did he even close them? – so he can see the owner of the familiar voice.

“There we go. He’s alive! A true miracle.”

Peter nearly closes his eyes again, because obviously he’s still dreaming. There is no way that Tony freaking Stark is kneeling in front of him, stroking his hair, and gently coaxing him awake. Not possible.

“Yeah, it’s me, kiddo,” Tony says, obviously reading the surprise on his face. “To be fair, I’m probably just as surprised at this development as you are, but your friend Ted, here –“ he gestures to said teen who offers nothing more than a shrug “ –called Happy saying that you’re dying, and we just happened to be in the area, and I also happen to be a superhero. So.”

Unreal, Peter thinks, and closes his eyes, ready to let unconsciousness swallow him whole.

“Ah ah – no. Nap time for the spider baby later,” Tony jokes, but Peter cracks his eyes open to see the worry lining his mentor’s face. “I say we blow this popsicle stand.”

Peter nearly sags with relief at how good that sounds. He’d do just about anything to sleep. But then he remembers why he’d been so determined not to stay home in the first place.

“I can’t!” he protests, finally speaking up. “Calc. Integration.”

Tony stares at him in disbelief, and then turns to Ned, who’s still watching the exchange with a look of awe.

“Did he just say what I think he just said?” he asks incredulously.

Ned just gives him a long-suffering look and nods. “Yeah. He’s dumb.”

Tony scoffs. “That’s an overstatement,” he grumbles under his breath. Louder, he says, “Peter, you do realize that you’re literally talking to a genius, right? An actual engineer who literally built a flying suit? And the arc reactor? I think I can teach you some damn calculus. Goodness gracious.”

Peter just blinks at him. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” Tony repeats, but he can’t help surge of utter fondness that rushes through him at the sight of the tired kid, still pressing into the hand in his hair.

“Come on. Happy’s waiting for us. I’ve never actually dealt with a sick – anything – before, so this’ll be a great learning experience for the both of us,” Tony says conversationally. He gets up, groaning at the ache in his knees, and takes Peter’s bag from Ned.

Peter immediately lets out a whine at the loss of contact. The noise strikes a chord deep within Tony, and he tries not to think too hard about it.

“Sorry, kid. Come on, up you go,” he encourages, hoisting the kid to his feet. Peter sways tiredly on his feet, and Tony is quick to steady him.

“Whoa, I got you,” Tony soothes. He runs a quick hand over the kid’s forehead and lets out a low whistle at the heat that meets his hand. “Sleep. You need lots of it. So do I, actually. What do you say we get to Happy before the evil man makes us walk?”

Peter smiles weakly and nods, stumbling beside his mentor, thoughts going blurry again as they make their way to the front of the school.

As promised, Happy is waiting for them, and it takes a little while longer to wrestle the kid’s lanky limbs into the car and across the backseat. Again, Peter lets out a whimper at the loss of contact, and Tony coughs to cover the soft smile that’s threatening to appear as he slides in next to the teen.

And if his hands end up back in Peter’s hair?

Well, no one ever has to know.

-

It was a stupid argument, if you could even call it that. Really, it was just Flash being a dumbass, as usual. Which, usually is a thing that Peter can handle – is used to handling – but today is just not one of those days.

Patrol last night had been rough, more mentally taxing than usual. Peter’s not exactly sure what about it made it so, but it left him wired up with an anxiety that followed him into sleep, prompting unwelcome nightmares and flashbacks of a variety he hadn’t experienced in a while.

Truth be told, he knows it’s kind of his own fault. He’s been overworking himself, staying out longer and longer as Spider-Man, coming back by May’s curfew only to sneak out hours later when he hears her breathing even out.

Then he comes back and works on homework and studying, getting a mere two or three hours of fitful sleep, surviving mostly on coffee and pure, stubborn willpower throughout the day. This all does nothing to calm the ever-growing wave of anxiety.

So, to be fair, this was probably a long time coming.

Flash just happened to be the catalyst.

Peter and Ned sat in their usual spot in the cafeteria, Peter comparing his homework answers with Ned’s. When Flash walks up, Peter immediately tenses, already preparing himself for an onslaught of insults.

(And how stupid is that? He’s Spider-Man and yet he’s reduced to nothing at the mercy of a stupid high school bully.)

“Hey, Penis! Ready to get your ass beat in the science fair this weekend?” Flash mocks. And to be honest, Peter finished his project weeks ago in the confines of Tony’s lab, analyzing how robotics can be used to enhance prosthetics and make them more effective and efficient.

And, at this point, he’s so tired, he doesn’t actually care who wins. He never did, really.

“Isn’t ‘Penis’ a little old by now? Surely you can be more inventive than that,” Peter taunts. And yeah, maybe not his smartest move ever, but whatever.

Flash flounders for a second, unsure of how to respond, before his face clears again. “I could, but this one suits you best. It’s kind of iconic, don’t you think?”

“Hey, Flash, you know what’s funny?” Ned steps in suddenly, and Peter groans. “How Peter’s smart enough to land an internship with Stark Industries, and you haven’t even heard back yet.”

Flash flushes with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “Yeah, and how much do you suppose your little sidekick has to pay just to polish Tony Stark’s shoes? You know, there’s actually been speculation that there’s a something a little more – should we say? – kinky going on there,” Flash says with a suggestive smirk, and Peter immediately sees red at the very implication of his hero doing something like that.

“Shut the fuck up, Flash,” Peter snarls angrily, and Flash narrows his eyes at him coldly.

“What was that, Penis?”

Peter stands up, well and truly angry now. “I said ‘Shut up.’ You don’t know anything about him. And I’m sorry you couldn’t get an internship with him when I could, but I guess Stark Industries knows talent when it – “

A sudden flash of cold and wet leaves Peter sputtering. He barely registers the fact that Flash is standing in front of him, the cup in his hand totally empty, because the wave of anxiety that’s been building up the last few days decides then and there to pull Peter under.

No longer is he in his high school cafeteria. No, he’s back in the lake, alone and tangled and trying so hard to break free of his confines. The water is cold, seeps straight to his very bones, and against his will, his lungs take a desperate breath in, but all he gets is more water.

He can’t fucking breathe.

God, what if he dies like this? Just a useless body floating on a lake, and maybe it’ll be days before he’s found, and May – oh god, May! – will be left completely alone to deal with another bout of grieving.

And Peter – god, he doesn’t want to die, he’s not ready to do that yet, he’s supposed to graduate and watch the next Star Wars movie release with Ned and there are so many more people he needs to save, and also he’s just plain scared.

If only he could breathe.

“Peter!”

The unexpected and familiar voice shocks him, and he flails towards it, hoping it’ll bring him closer to the surface.

“I’m right here, bud, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you,” the voice tells him, and it sounds so convincing and real and soothing that he tries with everything in him to believe it.

“Hey, it’s me – Tony. I’m right next to you, and we’re both in your crappy school cafeteria,” the voice – Tony – informs him, and Peter frowns in confusion because Tony shouldn’t be here, he’s going to drown, too.

“Tony,” he gasps, hands finding purchase in warm fabric. Dry. It’s dry! But – what?

“Yeah, kiddo, it’s me. Open your eyes and look at me. It’s okay, I promise,” Tony coaxes him. And because he’s never had a reason not to trust him mentor, Peter cracks his eyes open, immediately cringing at the water that drips into his eyes.

“That’s it, good job,” Tony encourages, and Peter tries to let the sight of his mentor drown out the feel of water burning his nose.

“Mr. Stark?” he asks in a small voice. “W-what? I-I don’t – “

“Shhh, it’s all fine. You’re at school. You had a pretty bad panic attack. Your aunt wasn’t picking up, so they called me,” Tony explains. Peter takes in everything around him, drinking in the sight of the now completely empty cafeteria, save for him and Tony.

“I didn’t – I didn’t mean – I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, cheeks flushing red with shame. Tony gives him an incredulous look.

“Peter,” he says gently, reaching out to tilt the boy’s face up. “Look at me. You didn’t do anything wrong. You never have to apologize for something like this.” Tony’s gaze darkens suddenly. “The only person who should be apologizing for anything is the childish, cruel, immature bully who did this to you.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest. “No – it wasn’t his fault! He didn’t know that would happen.”

“And that makes it okay?” Tony scoffs. “No, kid. That’s all on him.”

Peter stays silent, not willing to admit the man is right, as usual. Tony studies him for a moment, then lets out a heavy sigh.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks the teen.

“Fine,” Peter lies instinctively. Tony just raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know. That – that wasn’t supposed to happen. Usually I have it under control,” he says, looking frustrated.

“It?” Tony prompts.

Peter tugs anxiously on his shoelace. “I guess sometimes I still think about the lake? Because I was tangled and stuck and it was – “ He cuts off, throat closing abruptly. Tony puts a hand on his shoulder, grounding him.

“Scary,” Tony finishes for him. Peter just looks down. Tony sighs again, looking more tired than ever. “Pete, you gotta keep me in the loop with these things. And if not me, then May or Ned or someone you trust. It’s okay to feel like this. Hell, I’m scared all the damn time.”

Peter looks surprised at the confession. “What?”

Tony laughs bitterly. “How do you think I became Iron Man in the first place? It was because I’m scared. My suit? It literally just started out as a physical manifestation of my anxiety.”

“Does it get better?” Peter asks, and he looks so small in this moment that Tony’s heart cracks right down the middle.

Tony hesitates before answering. “Yeah, kid. It does. But it takes a while, and it might not ever go completely away. You just have to communicate with us. Think you can do that?” Tony asks, looking Peter straight in the eye.

Peter swallows thickly and nods. “Yeah.”

Tony looks intently at him for another moment and then nods in satisfaction. He moves to get up and groans. “Fantastic. I think all that emotion just gave me heartburn,” he complains, rubbing his chest dramatically.

Peter smiles, the somber atmosphere broken. “Or maybe you’re just old,” he jokes.

Tony pretends to look offended. “Rude. Offensive. You owe me one whole compliment for that.”

“Nope,” Peter says. Tony nudges him gently.

“Oh, come on. No nice things to say about your favorite superhero?”

“Who said you’re my favorite superhero?” Peter smirks deviously.

Tony’s eyes widen in mock hurt as Peter gets up and starts to walk out without him. “Two compliments! Now you owe me two!” Tony calls as he walks after him.

And Peter’s answering laugh? Totally worth it.

-

First of all, the fact that aliens decided to attack New York City during school hours? Rude.

Which is Peter’s first thought when Tony calls him right before his fourth class of the day. It goes a little something like this:

“Kid. We’ve got aliens attacking New York – again, don’t they ever learn? – and it’s all hands on deck,” Tony informs him.

Immediately, Peter lights up with excitement, already feeling the first shots of adrenaline at even the thought of fighting with the Avengers again.

“Yes, of course!” he gasps excitedly, making a beeline for his locker to grab his suit.

“Great, meet us at – “

“Hey, loser,” MJ greets, not caring that Peter’s on the phone. “Where are your safety glasses? You need them for lab today.”

“Shit,” Peter mutters, feeling his heart drop to his feet, because normally, hell yeah, he’d skip class to go fight with the freaking Avengers! Except today’s lab counts as one of three big exam grades and he literally cannot miss it.

“What was that?” Tony asks, sounding preoccupied.

“Uh, Mr. Stark? Can the emergency wait, like, an hour?” Peter stammers. Immediately Tony’s full attention goes back to the teen.

“What?” he demands sharply. “Why?” There’s a pause in which Peter is more than reluctant to answer, but Tony catches on quickly and groans. “Oh, Jesus Christ. Let me guess: Spanish test?”

“Chem lab,” Peter mumbles. He can practically hear Tony rolling his eyes.

“Kid, you can make it up. New York needs you right now,” Tony says matter-of-factly.

“But, Mr. Stark! I won’t be able to make this up, she said the only way we can miss it is if we’re in the hospital dying or it’s an extreme emergency,” Peter protests.

“So aliens aren’t an emergency now?” Tony deadpans.

“I mean, yeah, but I can’t exactly go up to her and say that I need to leave for something like that!” Peter says delicately, conscious of MJ standing nearby with a bored expression. “Anywho, I’ll be there in like an hour tops, I promise,” he says quickly before hanging up, and oh boy, he’s going to get an earful for that later.

Immediately, his phone starts buzzing again but he stuffs it in his bookbag hastily. MJ gives him a weird look.

“Your boss is fucking weird,” she comments.

“Tell me about it,” Peter mutters as they walk into class.

They sit down at one of the lab benches and wait for their teacher to start giving them instructions. Today’s lab is the Synthesis of Aspirin, and yeah, nothing they’ve done so far is nearly as cool or advanced as his web fluid or the stuff he makes in Tony’s lab, but he’s still excited. And nervous. Because he really needs a good grade on this.

Once instructions are given, Peter and MJ start methodically setting up lab equipment. Peter’s getting the hot water bath ready while MJ measures out the salicylic acid when a sudden hush falls over the room.

Curious, Peter and MJ both look up to see what’s going on and Peter immediately wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

Tony is standing in the doorway.

He strolls in with calm strides and a casual confidence and walks right up to the teacher.

“Hello, Dr. Mead. I’m terribly sorry, but we need to take Peter out of class. There’s an emergency at Stark Industries, and it’s sort of all hands on deck. He’s our best intern, after all,” he says charmingly.

She looks flustered in a way that Peter never imagined he would ever see of his usually very collected teacher.

“Um, I understand, but this lab is an exam. Is there any way it can wait after?” she asks hopefully, and honestly, Peter admires her for not just immediately caving into him.

Then Tony takes off his trademark sunglasses and looks at her with such a stern look that Peter immediately resolves to buy her the best teacher appreciation gift ever.

“I’m afraid not. This is a matter of utmost importance. Surely you have make-up labs?” he asks in such a way that implies the only correct answer is yes.

Dr. Mead opens her mouth as if to protest before finally just settling on saying nothing at all, before turning to the back of the class, where Peter is resisting the urge to hide under the lab bench.

“Mr. Parker, you may be excused. We can discuss make-up times later,” she announces, and Tony smirks, triumphant.

Peter’s face burns with embarrassment as he grabs his bag and walks out the room, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.

Tony ruffles his hair, and Peter swats at it in mock irritation.

“Was that all really necessary?” Peter demands when they’re alone in the hall. Tony shrugs.

“Nah. But then you hung up on me, and I’m petty,” he says. “But actually, I was already on my way to come get you. Cap, Nat, and Rhodes have got the situation contained, but they could really use some help, and we’re the only ones around.”

Peter, now that he’s not so worried about his grade, perks up with excitement again. “Man, this is so exciting!”

Tony gives him a fond look. Only Peter would find an alien attack exciting.

“Sure, kid. Now let’s go kick some alien ass.”

-

At first, there’s nothing to indicate why Peter’s spidey sense is suddenly going off like a blaring alarm.

His whole body is seizing with panic, everything in him screaming danger! But he strains his ears to listen for anything out of the ordinary and turns up empty, so he just shrugs and chalks it up to his anxiety going into overdrive.

Later on, he’ll hate himself for it.

Not even five minutes later, deep he hears it, clear as day: the crack of a bullet, one after another.

He shoots up in his desk, on high alert, and everyone around him starts looking around in confusion, not really comprehending the noise. For a second, he’s right along with them, not quite willing to believe that he’s hearing what he’s hearing, because no fucking way is this happening right now.

Then he hears the scream.

It cuts through the haze of the confusion that had clouded the room, and immediately Mr. Johnson runs to the door, knocking off the lights and covering the door window, and everyone is pushing to the back of the room.

Peter takes the moment of chaos to grab his suit out of his bag, and quietly slips out the other window, hoping that everyone was too preoccupied to notice.

“Hello, Peter,” Karen greets pleasantly.

“Karen!” Peter says urgently. “Call 911 and tell them there’s a shooter at Midtown. Contact Mr. Stark. Activate Stealth Mode.”

“Got it,” she says, and then a silence follows wherein Peter assumes she’s following his directions.

Without further pause, Peter quickly follows the sounds of students screaming and gunshots, praying and praying that no one’s bit hit.

“Peter,” Karen says, “Mr. Stark says to stay put; he and some of the crew are on the way, and so are the police. You are not to engage with the shooter.”

All it takes is another piercing scream for Peter to decide that’s definitely not what he’s going to do. He can hear students near the exits evacuating, but as he goes deeper into the school, it becomes eerily quiet. He tries not to focus on the hundreds of heartbeats skyrocketing in fear.

He rounds a corner and finds a student curled up under a water fountain, shaking and crying. She jumps and whimpers in fear when he enters her line of sight, eyes flooding with relief when she realizes who he is.

“Sp-Spider-Man,” she gasps, tears streaming down her face. He quickly shushes her, not wanting to draw any attention to them in case the intruder is nearby.

She shakes her head insistently. “H-He already c-came by. He’s at-at the classrooms b-by the audi-auditorium.”

Peter nods in determination. “I’ll take care of it. You need to stay hidden. If other people start running, join them. Stay quiet. You’re doing so good.”

And fuck, Peter doesn’t even know if that’s the right advice, because this is so much different than anything he’s ever dealt with before. These are his classmates – his friends – who’s lives are being threatened.

As he nears the auditorium, everything seems more still and foreboding, and he can hear a single set of footsteps walking calmly across the floor. Peter leaps up to the ceiling and rounds another corner.

He nearly falls back down at the sight that meets him.

The first door to his right his open, a body lay strewn in the doorway, and something in Peter’s brain shuts down, absolutely refuses to acknowledge the reality of the sight before his, refuses to go into the room in fear of what else he might find.

He hears gasps and soft sobs, but he pushes it all away and lets his gaze zero in on the figure at the end of the hall, gun raised towards another classroom.

The sound of the bullet, this time, is deafening, and Peter wastes no time before crawling until he’s just above the figure.

In the blink of an eye, Peter’s on top of him, wrestling the gun out of his grip and punching the guy with a ferocity that’s unfamiliar. He hits. And hits and hits and hits, because this guy attacked the wrong fucking school and those are Peter’s friends.

Peter sees red, flashes of anger and blood and oh god his friends, are they okay? And it hits him, suddenly, the gravity of everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes, the way his school will never be the same because of one person’s decision.

“Spider-Man, stand down,” a voice cuts through the haze, but he ignores it in favor of tossing another punch, but before he can, a metal hand wraps itself around his wrist.

“No!” he snarls. “This one deserves it!” He fights against the arms that wrap around his waist, thrashing against the hold.

“Kid. It’s me, Tony. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of him, you’ve done great. Your job here is done.”

With those words, Peter sags against his mentor, allowing the hard armor to support him and the weight of everything to sink in.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Tony says, gently picking the young hero up and letting the police come in and take over. No one even bothers to question him. It’s common knowledge that Spider-Man and Iron Man are close, and no one is willing to get him in trouble for beating the shit out of someone who deserved it.

Tony cradles the kid’s head to his chest, no longer caring who sees, only focusing on getting Peter out of there. Steve, Sam, and Natasha can handle the rest, he figures. There are cops everywhere, and scared students are being rushed out in a line to meet desperate parents waiting for them outside.

Happy is waiting for them, and Tony has never been more grateful for his status as Iron Man than now; no one tries to stop him.

Tony quickly deactivates his suit and gets the kid in, settling them both into the back seat, and Happy wastes no time trying to push his car through the crowd, glancing back at the duo with deep worry etched into his features.

Peter hasn’t said a word, and they’re halfway back to the Tower, where May is meeting them, when the teen starts shaking violently, clinging to Tony.

“Oh god,” Peter sobs, pulling his mask off, and Tony absolutely breaks at the raw terror and grief on the kid’s face as the weight of what’s happened hits him. “Tony,” he gasps, pulling his mentor closer.

Tony wraps his arms around the kid, hugging him with an unprecedented fervor. “Shhh, it’s okay now. I’m right here.”

But Peter’s hyperventilating now, tears soaking the man’s shirt. “I-I couldn’t – I was too late. I think – I think – Tony, I saw – “ and he doesn’t get past that, because he can’t. He can’t make the words push past his lips.

If he doesn’t say them, maybe they won’t be true.

Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face into Tony’s chest, crying violently.

And Tony? Tony doesn’t know what else to do other than murmur soft words of comfort that he knows are falling on deaf ears. So he settles back in his seat, Peter practically in his lap, and runs his fingers soothingly through the kid’s hair. It’s going to be a long road to recovery, he knows.

But he’s in this for the long haul.

-

“No.”

Tony stands against his desk, arms crossed and sending a flat look to Pepper, who’s looking at him with an equally determined expression on his face.

“Tony, come on,” she says in exasperation. “He’d be thrilled, and if nothing else, it’d be great PR. I think people would really like seeing you be so invested in an intern, personally taking him for a deeper look at what you do.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Pep, Peter’s already seen what I do. Hell, he practically lives in the lab after school. He literally has his own room here.”

“Sure, but he only ever sees Tony, his hero, mentor, and father figure.” Tony opens his mouth to protest that last label, but Pepper cuts him off. “Shut up, it’s true and you know it. Now, as I was saying, I think it’d be really beneficial for him to see you as Tony Stark, a business man, company owner, and employer.”

“The answer is still no!” Tony says.

And yet somehow, that conversation led up to now, with Peter standing awkwardly at his side at eight in the morning, staring at the main floor of Stark Industries with awe on Take Your Kid to Work Day.

“Mr. Stark, thisissocool!” Peter exclaims in one big breath. Around him, workers are bustling about. Tony, quite frankly, can’t believe he’s never taken his fake intern into the main part of his building. A careless oversight. It’s impressive, really, that the whole “internship” story has managed to hold up for this long.

“Whoa, calm down, kid,” he says, watching the kid fondly as he practically buzzes with excitement. Peter looks at him with wide eyes.

“What are we going to do today? Are you going to boss a bunch of people around? Build stuff? Paperwork? Now that I think about it, what do you even do?” Peter asks, sounding breathless. Tony just shakes his head in awe, wondering how after all this time, the kid can look at him like he hung the moon.

(And he would. He’d hang a thousand moons if that’s what Peter wanted.)

“Well, first of all, Pepper’s usually the one who bosses me around, so I’m sure you’ll get to see some of that today. We have a press conference at one. Oh, don’t worry, it’s no big deal. We’ll introduce you as one of SI’s interns and explain that I decided to take this day, when a lot of other kids would be around, to show you the ins and outs of what I do. They’ll love it,” he reassures.

And they do.

But Tony’s not surprised, really. The kid has a way of getting everyone wrapped around his finger.

Peter, awkward and nervous at first, quickly gains a bit of confidence, occasionally answering a reporter’s questions with typical teenage sass, but always with a soft smile so as not to offend.

“How did you two meet?” one curious reporter asks. Tony puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Well, this one here is a huge dumpster diver. I actually got an opportunity to see his skills at fixing and making tech with natural ease, so I encouraged him to fill out an application for the internship. His application was outstanding, to say the least, and the rest, as they say, is history,” Tony says with a smile.

“Peter, were you a fan of Iron Man even before the internship?” another reporter asks.

Peter laughs. “I mean, who wasn’t? But really, I was always a bigger fan of Mr. Stark himself. The work he’s done to create a clean source of renewable energy? That’s insane! I can only dream of making strides like that. I watched a documentary on his robots over the years when I was younger, and I remember thinking, ‘I want to be like him!’ It’s actually what led me to start dumpster diving and fixing old tech. I never even imagined it could lead me to work under the man who inspired me.”

Peter shrugs, missing Tony’s stunned gaze trained on him, while the reporters listen with rapt attention.

“So yeah. Iron Man is amazing and all, but the real hero is the man underneath the suit, which I think people like to forget. The suit isn’t heroic – it’s the man underneath it that is.”

Tony is speechless. Absolutely speechless and completely overcome with an emotion he can’t quite identify as Peter looks over at him and offers him a shy small, as if worried he’s maybe said something wrong.

Tony’s throat clogs with the amounting of affection he has for the awkward, precious, genius, and selfless fucking kid, and he’s nearly knocked off his chair by the force of it. He clears his throat roughly, before addressing the crowd that’s busy melting.

“As you can see,” he says, wrapping an arm around the teen. “I brainwash my interns well.”

The crowd laughs, and the spell of emotion is broken.

However, when Tony goes down to his lab that night, long after Peter’s been dropped back off at home by Happy, he finds a sticky note attached to one of his computers, the messy scrawl deeply familiar.

There’s only four words, but they make Tony’s heart swell in his chest.

I meant every word. -P

[digimonadventuretimelines]

[06- Space-Time Travel Here We Go!!]

Daichi stood in the emptiness, trying to understand how would he travel back to the past and tell Taichi or Ken about the enemies going after Daisuke. But… He had no idea what should he do next.

Til… his digivice’s screen began to shine. The light had been redirected to Natsu’s pendant and it reflected into infinite rays of light, showing then many doors in the white void.

“What the heck!?”

“Daichi, language.”

“What’s going on here!? Why those doors looking like the same and without labels!?”

She couldn’t know how to explain to the boy about the gimmicks of that dimension. But it’s like a video-game’s HUB. That would’ve been the best answer for Daichi’s question though…

“I dunno!” she answered “I… I never had done any kind of space-time leap before!!”

“This dimension connects to each world and their time” Clavis Angemon approached from the trio “Every change results in a new door, or the end of it.”

“Wait, what!?” Ulforce blinked “So… the thing about altering the past can erase a world is not a hoax!?”

“Do you REALLY think, Ulforce!?” Natsu hissed “Of course it is!”

“Ok” the boy babbled “But how do you know where are you going if all of those doors are the same and there’s no labels on them!? What if you accidentally get lost here!?”

“... We use instinct.”

Daichi took a deep breathe. He wanted to give more criticism to how that place had been built, but he had no time to waste. Instinct huh? He looked at the doors and walked to the first he found to be the right choice.

“Ok… here we go.”

And he opened the door.

  “Hurry up, Miyako!” Takeru called the girl “We need to rescue the digimon from the Kaiser!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” she was in a rush, coming right after the young boy. Iori was also with her, and Hikari was with Tailmon already and in a fight “Geez why can’t that brat let us enjoy the Digital World at least once!?”

“We’re not here on vacations, Miyako” Iori responded with a frown “We need to protect the innocent digimon.”

[Summer of 2002]

“Hikari is in trouble!” Patamon came quickly “Hurry up and evolve us, guys!”

“N-now!?” she gasped “Ok, Hawkmon… Digimental Up!”

“Armadimon! Digimental Up!”

“Patamon! Digimental Up!”

When they were going towards the battle… something fell from the skies and hit the bushes of that area. It called the trio’s attention and they stopped.

“Ouch…” Daichi massaged his head “I wasn’t expecting to open a portal in the midair…!”

“Uh, kid… your clothes…” Ulforce commented “they changed.”

“Huh??”

It wasn’t a big change, but now Daichi had the addition of a long blazer and a red scarf with flame stamps, the orange drawing the format of the flames and the yellow forming their colors.

“Better you hide the goggles” Natsu muttered “I sense someone coming!”

And with a nod, Daichi hid the goggles under the scarf. Maybe that new attire would be useful from now on. However… Where are they? Seemed to be in the DigiWorld, but something was… odd?

“Over there!” the group heard a feminine voice approaching and then they met… “Huh? Motomiya what are you doing here!?”

She looked like his mother. No, he was pretty sure that girl was Miyako in her Elementary School days. But… was she mistaking him with his father?!

“Um… I’m not him” Daichi was a bit panicked, and her facial expression was pure rage “I swear, don’t… Wait, you said ‘Motomiya’ instead?” he blinked.

“Are you joking!?” Miyako squinted “You’re trying to deceive me, right?”

“I’m not!” the panic intensified.

“Hey please don’t go accusing him!” Natsu snorted “Whatever Daisuke had done to you, you can't go and claim another child looking alike him is the culprit!”

“Who are you?” Miyako asked “And why is V-mon looking like--”

“And he’s not the same V-mon you know!”

“Ma’am, my name’s Ulforce please” Ulforce replied with an annoyed tone.

“Hmm…” she fixed her glasses “If you were him, there would’ve been a trouble.”

“Huh?” the trio exclaimed.

“Too much to explain, please stay here for a while. We have to beat a certain Ichijouji Ken and his horde of brainwashed minions.”

“O-Ok…”

She left, and they looked at each other for a while. What did she mean with that? As Natsu recorded, Daisuke was part of the new generation of Chosen Children against the heartless Digimon Kaiser. But why would’ve been a problem if Daichi were Daisuke?

“I think that’s not the right world” Ulforce looked around “Like, wouldn’t your dad and his partner be with their group?”

“... I want to investigate it” and he got up from the ground.

“Wait! You can’t!” Natsu gently grabbed Daichi’s wrist “You can’t take part of those events or they will change the course of the story!”

“We won’t join the fight” he looked at her “we will just discover where is mr. Daisuke. We will… Spy on him.”

  “Stop, Digimon Kaiser!” Hikari shouted, flying on Nefertimon to escape from Tyrannomon’s attacks. She was expecting for the backup and Taichi was still taking too much time to come with support.

“Stop?” the silhouette of a human kid said “Why should I? It’s easier to accept defeat, Yagami Hikari.”

“I won’t! neither my brother and our group! Your days of brainwashing digimons are going to end today!”

Ken laughed, at this point Daichi-Natsu-Ulforce were watching the whole scene in some blind spot of the forest region. Okay, who are those two-- Wait, more people are coming!!

Daichi now saw Shurimon, Pegasusmon and Digmon approaching from the battlefield. He still didn’t recognize those children but Miyako. The mystery was Daisuke’s whereabouts, which kept the three intrigued. Just a few seconds later, Daichi felt something behind him and met…

“Huh, who are you three!?”

“Aaa, Daisuke it’s you!” Natsu smiled, “They need your help! Don’t mind of us! We’re just… passing by hahaha!”

That Daisuke was odd: he was wearing a Lighdramon-based armor. Not wearing goggles as well. He shrugged, and glanced at V-mon behind him.

“Let’s go, we need a job to do”

“I don’t think--”

“Please, I will give you the sweets you want.”

To Daichi, that somehow wasn’t the same very endearing relationship he had seen through years between Daisuke and Vee. It was… What made Daichi realize what was going on.

Daisuke and V-mon left, going to the battle and…

“No wait, this can’t be real!” Daichi shook his head, eyes closed during the action “No no NO!”

“What’s wrong kid!?” Ulforce gasped.

“This isn’t the right place! Even when I wasn’t aware of my parents being the heroes of the tales… I could notice how my father and Vee were with each other! It’s like something is…”

“D-Daichi, look!!”

He couldn’t believe it.

“Why is he fighting them!?” Ulforce exclaimed “Weren’t he part of the group against the Digimon Kaiser!?”

“He was!” Natsu was shocked just like the other two “It makes no sense… B-but… I felt it the instance Miyako was angry at you Daichi.”

“We need to stop them!” Daichi clenched his fist “Natsu, we need to intervene!”

“No, you will destroy this world if you do that!”

“He might being controlled by the Kaiser! We need to save him!”

“... Right” she replied with a nod “But don’t let them discover your identity. Please.”

“Scan… DigiRune!” [ Scan completed]

“Load… Evolution!”

V-mon evolve! XV-mon!

“You won’t beat us!” Miyako shouted “Shurimon, give your best!”

“While Miyako and I distract them, go after the Dark Tower” Iori told Hikari and Takeru. The angelic duo nodded and flew on their partners to the Dark Tower.

“You won’t surrender?” Ken smirked “Then… How about we capture you and your pitiful group of ‘heroes’ Inoue Miyako?”

“Heh, try to catch us then…” she replied with some sarcasm “Those hurting the digimon won’t escape! Shurimon no-- WHAT IS THAT!?”

XV-mon invaded the fight and grabbed Fladramon. Iori took that opportunity and ordered Digmon to aim at Tyrannomon’s Evil Ring. 

“What is that digimon doing Motomiya!?” the Kaiser wasn’t happy.

“I… I don’t know!? Oi! Fladramon, kick them out!!”

Fladramon tried to get free from Ulforce’s arms, but wasn’t strong enough for that. Then, the armored digimon had the brilliant idea of setting himself on fire. That definitely worked as XV-mon couldn’t keep holding Fladramon without getting burnt.

“Ulforce!!” Daichi yelled “Try to knock him out!”

“Huh… Are you sure??”

“Who are you!?” Fladramon asked “Don’t mess with us!!”

“You’re doing a bad thing, kiddo! Please snap out of it!”

“Doing a…? Are you sure?? If you don’t step away I gonna BURN you with my flames!”

“You wouldn’t do that with someone of your own species will you?”

 “Go away!” the other yelled.

“Why the heck are you doing!?” Daisuke hissed “You’re ruining our job, kiddo!”

“Ulforce!” Daichi kept giving commands and ignoring Daisuke’s complaints “Use X-Laser on him, but control your strength!”

“That meddling insect is ruining our plans, Motomiya” Ken couldn’t accept that at all, why that Daisuke-clone-like child was there stopping their strategy against the insolent Chosen Children!? “Do something!”

“All you do is to give me orders, huh!?” Daisuke pouted, “Fine fine, I will stop him… By force.”

“By force!?” Natsu gasped “Daichan, we need to get out of here!”

“But why?”

Daisuke surprised them by tackling Daichi, shoving him to the dirt that fast Daichi couldn’t see him coming. But that wasn’t the most terrifying thing to happen: Daisuke had somehow a Lighdramon-motif glaive in one hand and pointed at Daichi’s head.

“STOP!” Natsu panicked.

“Tell your digimon to stop messing with our plans, now!”

Daichi didn’t expect to be in that same situation in which his father tries to murder him. Natsu couldn’t use her powers and call the attention of those kids, but she wished to create a shield around Daichi right now.

“Did ya hear me, kid!?” Daisuke gritted his teeth “Tell your digimon to retreat, NOW!”

“Please… Don’t hurt him” Natsu was scared, yet unable to do anything to protect Daichi. She hated to imagine Daisuke, the Daisuke she knows, being completely disappointed with her for that mistake, “Please, I beg you…!”

“Huh?” he looked at her, frowning “I’m not hurting hi-- ACK!”

Miyako definitely came and threw a punch at Daisuke, making him drop the glaive on the ground plus fall away from him.

“You bully!” Miyako screamed “How dare you attack an innocent child!?”

Daichi kept in silence, still in shock. Iori approached and helped him to get up.

“Are you okay?” and asked him “Miyako, we need to keep them busy. Takeru and Hikari will free this area in…”

A huge explosion was heard. When they all looked to the direction it came from, the tower standing in the background went down.

“... This exact moment.”

“HEY NOT FAIR!” Daisuke protested “This kid messed with all of our plans! I demand y’all to reconstruct the tower and fight us again!”

“Enough, Motomiya” Ken’s voice was heard from the top of the Airdramon “Let’s retreat! You will pay for this, you insects!”

“Retreat!? No freakin’ way I gonna--” Fladramon grabbed him and then on Airdramon “AAA LET ME GO-- I MEAN DON’T LET ME GO!! I-- YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS YOU MEANIES!!”

“Oh he’s still the same” Natsu blinked.

“Huh? What do you mean with that?” Miyako looked at her “Didn’t I tell you three to wait there?”

“I think it’s okay to say it to them, right?” Daichi mused “We’re from another world.”

“From another world…?” Miyako and Iori repeated in unison.

[fathertaurus]

Carry On Wayward- Dean Winchester Father Imagine

Warnings: Angst, tears, idk it’s sad yall

Pairing: Dad!Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

"Dean?" The light from the hallway shown through into his room, only a crack, but enough to illuminate the figure standing in his doorway.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he squinted harshly before recognizing who was there. It was his 7 year old daughter, Y/N .

She stood there, little balled up fist raised to her eye as she rubbed it absentmindedly. Clothed in nothing but one of Dean's old t-shirts and some shorts she tightened her grip on the teddy bear given to her by Bobby.

Just by looking at her though, Dean knew something was wrong, especially with the time of night it was.

"What's wrong kiddo?" He question, throat dry as he forced himself up on his pillow. Y/N stepped closer into his room but seemed hesitant.

"I had a bad dream...c-can I come sleep with you?" Dean was now more awake than before, his new parental instincts kicking in the quieter she became.

He moved until his back was set up against the bed frame, reaching over to switch the lamp on beside his bed. They both simultaneously flinched at the bright light, Y/N sheltering her sensitive eyes with her tiny hands and Dean just seeming to squint harder.

He looked back at her, now that he could fully see her, to notice the stray tears drying on her face, her nose sniffling here and there every few seconds.

"Oh-h, yeah of course. C'mere." He opened his overly large arms awkwardly, again, still new to this whole parental thing.

But Y/N didn't seem as hesitant before, this time instead quickly making her way to his side.

She climbed over his legs with her free hand and moved until she was at his side, tucking herself right underneath his arm.

Dean cleared his throat before smiling down at her softly, noticing her doe eyes becoming heavier. Suddenly her mouth opened up but only to reveal a short-lived yawn.

Dean slowly slouched his body back down, moving so that he was laying flat on his back and she was still tucked into his side, arm wrapped tightly around her.

"Aren't you gonna turn the light off?" To say that Dean was shocked was an understatement. The seven year old who was just complaining about a nightmare with tears in her eyes and a quivering lip was asking to turn the light off? Wasn't strange at all.

"Uhm..are you sure? We can leave it on if you want."

"No." she began, finger rubbing over the teddy bear's button nose. But her attention moved away from it quickly, eyes darting up to hold Dean's stare, "I know you'll protect me from the monster."

His heart seemed to stop for minute, too filled up with this strange warm feeling that made his chest ache, but in the good way. It was strange though in a sense, being so captivated by a child's eyes.

But she was slowly beginning to mean everything to Dean, whether he recognized it or not.

"Wait," he mumbled catching her words, "Is that what you had a nightmare about? Monsters?" Dean was genuinely curious. He assumed that if he had a better idea of what she was so afraid of he could come up with a good goofy story on how to defeat them to make her feel better.

But by the way her body tensed up and the grip on her bear tightened he began to believe a funny story wasn't the cure to this fear.

"I-I don't want to tell you about it." She stumbled, voice now shaky and face turning red. Dean instantly took that at his stop sign.

"Okay okay that's fine. Why don't we just sleep then." He hastily offered, not wanting to trigger something neither of them could handle.

It went to silence after he said that, seeing that she had closed her eyes and seemed to be instantly falling asleep. So Dean nodded to himself and shut his eyes as well, feeling the tiredness from before begin to arise once more.

"Can you sing to me?" Her voice echoed off the walls and nearly scared Dean half to death, eyes shooting back open to look down at her.

"W-What?" He spoke trying to catch his breath as he gawked at the little child. She snuggled deeper into his side and he knew she was trying to convince him with her "angelic looks" or at least that's what Bobby called them.

"Sing a song?" She shortened the question this time, obviously just trying to get to the point.

Dean stared at her with a raised brow and nearly slacked jaw, shocked at how good she was with bribing. And the longer he stared, the more he knew he was going to have to sing some song to her.

Clearing his throat best as possible he let out a pitiful sigh before taking a breath.

"Once I rose above the noise and confusion

Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion

I was soaring ever higher

But I flew too high," Dean went to clear his throat of the raspiness but it seemed as though Y/N didn't seem to mind, her eyes now shut once more.

"Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man

Though my mind could think, I was still a mad man

I hear the voices when I'm dreaming

I can hear them say," Realizing that Y/N’s breath had now slowed Dean took note in lower his vocals.

"Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest..." for some reason Dean caught himself, his voice stopping.

He didn't understand it at all. Why there was this feeling stirring behind his eyes. Why he pulled her closer and made sure there was enough blanket to cover her body. Why this child who irrupted from no where had made such an impact on who Dean was.

Never did Dean think he was going to be a father. Sure maybe on a rare occasion he thought about it, but with the way he was raised and with the life he lived he just didn’t see it as a logical thing to do.

But now here he was, singing Kansas to his 7 year old daughter to help cure her of her nightmares. Who would've thought?

"Don't you cry no more." And with that he finished, knowing there was no need to continue because she was clearly asleep.

He didn't think twice about kissing her forehead or switching off the lamp. After doing both things he just moved further down on the bed so both he and Y/N could rest more comfortably.

Dean never believed in angels or god, because that would mean hope would exist, that good really existed, and neither of each things had Dean really experienced or come to know. But as time went on and the supernatural proved him wrong he began to accept it.

But now, as he laid here with his child in his arms all of that cheesily began to make sense. She had become his new beacon and he wasn't going to let her go.

A scream echoed from down the hallway instantly shocking Dean awake. It was a blood-curdling cry in the dark, one that, if he hadn’t recognized the person it belonged to, would have resembled something from a horror film.

The blankets flew to the side and Dean was barreling out of his room and into the bunker hallway.

Tripping over himself he swiped at his face, rubbing the remnants of sleep away as he hastily made his way to the bedroom in which the screaming was occurring from.

Just as he rounded the corner to the door he knocked shoulders with another body. Grunting as he stumbled back he glanced up to see his younger brother, the same look of sleep ridden panic on his face.

“I-I tried calming her down but–”

“I know Sammy just let me through.”

His younger brother stared at him apologetically, feeling somewhat guilty though no one was at fault here. But he abided Dean’s words moving from the doorway out into the hallway to allow room.

Dean barged in without a so much of a second glance, dashing through the dim lighting until he was at her side.

She was wailing like an animal, hands clawing at her skin as she sobbed into the bed sheets. Her whole body was covered in a sweat, skin burning at the touch. She trembled viciously in her fetal position seeming oblivious to Dean’s presence.

Groans and moans emitted between the yelling causing Dean to flinch. If there was one thing Dean hated the most in this world it was seeing her in pain and knowing there wasn’t much he could do to ease it.

But learning a trick or two from the past couple months of this torchere Dean sat beside her on the bed.

Unexpectedly he picked her up from the mess of damp sheets into his arms, resting her body against his chest and in his lap.

He cooed to her as best as possible, mumbling “it’s okay”’s and “I’ve got you I’ve got you,” to try and tame the pitiful beast she had become.

Dean sighed shakily, tightening his grip on her inflamed body. His eyes moved around the room as he thought to himself until his memory hit him like a brick wall.

“O-Once I rose above the noise and confusion

Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion

….I was soaring ever higher

But I flew too high,” To say Dean’s voice was quaking was an understatement, the lyrics were practically rattling in his chest. But surprisingly the words seemed to hovering over Y/N’s frail body and hold her. It seemed like it was helping to shut out the noise and the fear.

“Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man

Though my mind could think, I was still a mad man

I hear the voices when I’m dreaming

I can hear them say,” Dean struggled to ignore the crack in his tone as he sang. But the longer he stared at her the worse he felt. Like he was losing at this job of being a decent parent and it was breaking him on the inside.

He couldn’t ignore it, he couldn’t ignore the tears that pooled in his eyes. She was so..ruined. The girl who was once so pure years ago was now just an absent memory. She had transformed into this: A broken child.

And all Dean could think about was how it must’ve been his fault.

This whole family was cursed, how could it not have been his wrong-doing?

“Carry on my wayward son

There’ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest…” He choked mid-lyric.

Her eyes were shut now and the shaking had calmed down enough to keep her from tumbling out of his grasp but it didn’t ease Dean’s conscious. Then again nothing could, not when he saw his own flesh and blood in this way. No…there were no words, no actions that could make him feel better.

But he put his feelings aside because he didn’t have time to worry about himself, not when his daughter was in these conditions.

“Don’t you cry no more.”

Tears spilled, chest ached, and the fault burned.

A sob escaped his lips as he clutched her near lifeless body to his chest, sucking in a deep breath against the crown of her head.

“P-Please…don’t you cry no more.”

A/N: hope you enjoyed this angsty blurb!! I found it in my notes and decided I might as well post it. Send in requests!

[ghostbustermelanieking]

shadow demon; part two: october 31, 2017

s11 spec. based off a prompt by @firstofoctober: Mulder and Scully find themselves wrapped up in an unexpected case at a Halloween carnival when a teenage boy asks for their help.

part one

Jackson comes loping downstairs at seven a.m., when the sun is pinking the horizon. Scully hasn't moved from her spot on the couch, feeling like a bizarre burglar, but at least Mulder is awake to keep her company. The kid does something of an awkward double take when he sees them, then remembers. “Morning,” he says in a rush. “Did the shadow demon come back?”

“No,” Mulder says with a yawn. (He only got a few hours of sleep.) “Free and clear all night, or so Scully tells me.”

“How did you sleep?” Scully asks instinctively. She's aware she is acting vaguely maternal, but she's also not sure what the right way is to act in this situation. (It's not like she has any right, but it's also not like anyone else is here to do it.) She's somewhat deferring to a more subdued manner she adapted when her nephew was about this age and she visited Bill in California. (She pushes aside the thought that she never got to do this for anyone else.)

Jackson shrugs awkwardly. “Fine, I guess. Have you figured out how to find Danny?”

“We thought we'd go take a look at the carnival and see what we could find,” Mulder says. Him, we hope, Scully adds silently, and hopefully perfectly intact.

The kid perks right up at that. “That's a great idea! When do we leave?”

“You're not coming,” Scully says automatically. Whatever is going on here, taking Jackson with them is out of the question. He's a child, for God's sake. “Isn't it a school day?”

Jackson deflates, shoulders slumping. “You've got to be kidding,” he says. “Danny is my friend. I can't go to school when he's missing! I want to help!”

“We can't take you into a potentially dangerous situation,” says Mulder. (Scully thanks him silently for backing her up; she was afraid he would advocate for the kid to come along.) “Sorry, kid. You asked for our help finding your friend, and we do want to help. But your parents asked us to protect you, and we wouldn't be doing that if we took you into a dangerous situation.”

“How will you be protecting me if I'm at school?” Jackson retorts.

“The shadow demon has only attacked when you're alone, right?” Mulder counters. “Not when you were in a large group of people. You didn't see a sign of it when you were with a bunch of people at the carnival, looking for Danny. And it didn't attack me until I was alone, either. Plus, I'd guess that your high school has security guards who are there to protect the students. I'd say school is the safest place you can be.”

Jackson’s shoulders slump further and he kicks at a corner of the rug, not looking at them. “This is weird as shit,” he mutters. “You acting like my parents and all.”

Scully swallows the lump in her throat and says, “We're just trying to do what your parents would want, kiddo. Speaking of, have you talked to them this morning? I wanted to talk to them, get their okay for us to take care of you.”

“I called em. They're still on their way. Mom said to tell you guys thanks. She, um, she thought I should go to school, too. Said I should let you guys look for Danny and stay out of the way, that I'd be safer there.” Jackson shrugs again, sheepishly. “How the hell am I going to get to school? My car is still at the carnival, Danny had the keys.”

“We can drop you off,” Mulder says.

Jackson scrunches up his nose in disapproval, but nods. “Be right back,” he says, and disappears back into the house.

Scully doesn't look at Mulder. Jackson is right about this being weird. The rhythm is all off. They are acting like parents, albeit rather awkward ones. Even if they have communicated with the parents, they haven't been officially ordered to do anything. They are just the friendly neighborhood X-Files agents who stepped in when a paranormal problem popped up. But they are not his parents. They are parents to a child they don't know how to find.

They drive the kid to school per his directions. The directions are all he says on the ride. When Scully looks into the backseat, she finds him hunched over his phone, thumb moving. At first she thinks it's some kind of video game, but then she sees the name above the button he's hitting. He's calling his friend, repeatedly. “Hey, Jackson?” she asks. “How's your leg?”

“It's fine.” He hits the button again. The phone starts to ring. “You should probably drop me off a couple blocks away,” he says. “Everyone knows me around here, and they will definitely call the cops if they see me driving around with a stranger.”

And Scully is reminded of the bizarre awkwardness of the situation. “We're cops,” Mulder says. “Sort of. But we’ll drop you off here, I guess.”

He pulls over to the curb. “Thanks,” Jackson says. “Want to just meet me after school? I don't want to complicate things by, like, having two strangers pick me up.”

“I suppose that's fine. Somewhere close to the school, though; I don't want you running around alone too much,” says Scully.

“There's a diner. I'll text you the address.” Jackson opens the door, climbing out. “You'll text me?” he asks, nervously. “If you find him?”

“Of course, kid,” Mulder says encouragingly.

Jackson nods, hand on the door. “This is still weird as shit, by the way,” he says. “But… thanks. For looking for Danny. And for helping me.”

Scully smiles at him. He shuts the door and walks away, backpack dangling from his shoulders.

Mulder pulls away from the curb. “Well, the kid's right about one thing,” Scully says. “This is weird.”

“It's not like we've never had to take care of a kid before, Scully,” Mulder points out. “Remember Kevin Kryder?”

“Yeah, but we've never taken care of a grumpy teenager on a case we’re not officially on.”

“You're thinking about William,” Mulder says. Quietly.

They never used to talk about this, but now. Now it would seem ridiculous not to talk about it, while they're actively looking for him. (Their son.) But they are out of practice. They don't have real conversations, not about William.

Scully looks out the window, at the small town flitting by. “Yes,” she admits, fingers on the chilled glass. “I mean, how could I not? Here we are looking for William, and we meet this boy around his age who needs our help. Of course I'm thinking of him.” She presses her palm flat against the glass. Their son will save the world or destroy it. The world hangs in the balance, on whether they can find William before his grandfather does, and here they are chasing monsters and saving a kid who's old enough to be their son. “Of course I am,” she says softly. “Aren't you?”

“Of course,” Mulder replies, just as softly. “I just wanted to see if you were.”

Scully feels him take her hand and she squeezes tightly. “We're going to find him, Scully,” he says. “I know you think this is going to set us back, but I also know how horrible you would feel if we didn't help this kid. And no matter what, we are going to find him.”

Scully squeezes his hand again, turning towards him in her seat. “I know,” she says. “I know we are.”

They drive the rest of the way to the carnival in silence.

---

At the carnival, all of the employees are in full Halloween mode, running around like crazy to try and prepare for the Big Night. The owners seem irritated at the two FBI agents following them around with badges and questions. “Did that kid from last night send you?” the man in the jack-o-lantern t-shirt snaps at Mulder.

“Sir, a child is missing,” Scully says patiently. “It doesn't matter who sent us. We need your cooperation in the search.”

The owners grumble a few times, but let them look around the carnival. They mill around the stands and rides, interviewing the employees. Mulder passes around a picture of Danny that Jackson texted to him and Scully routinely asks questions about the night before. No one has seen him. “Wasn't some kid asking about this guy the other night?’’ the popcorn stand guy asks, scratching underneath his chin. “Said a monster got him or something.” Scully clears her throat irritably and lets Mulder take over. The rest of the interviews go much in this form.

“No one saw anything last night, clearly,” Scully says with some irritation once they are finished with every part of the bare bones of the carnival expect for the haunted house itself.

“Which makes sense,” says Mulder. “With the story Jackson told, there'd be no witnesses.”

“If someone really did kidnap--or god forbid, kill--Danny, than they would've had to do something with him,” says Scully. “And if no one saw anything… than either the perpetrator had to come back after hours…”

“Or he's still in the haunted house,” Mulder says.

They're facing the clapboard house at the end of the dusty road, red painted sign identifying it as the house. “Want to go inside and look around?” Scully asks.

“Oh, Scully.” He grins. “We have the worst luck with haunted houses.”

As it would seem, they do have something of a bad luck with haunted houses--it's just not the kind they were expecting. Two people are talking in front of the house, two teenager-ish people. The one closest to Mulder and Scully is a tall teenage girl that Mulder doesn't recognize until she turns around and he sees her face. The hair is different, smooth, long, dark hair instead of ratty blonde ringlets, and she isn't wearing ghostly zombie makeup, but it's her. The girl who attacked him last night.

Mulder tenses from head to toe when he sees her, and he clutches for Scully's arm. “Scully,” he hisses. “Scully, it's the girl from last night. The… demon thing.”

When he looks down at her, she looks extremely grumpy, mouth set in a thin line. “Oh, we have bigger problems, Mulder,” she says grimly, and motions back to the duo.

Upon a second look, he sees that the person talking to the knife-demon girl is none other than Jackson Van de Kamp, whose face reddens at the sight of them. “He's supposed to be at school,” Mulder says, stunned, dumbfounded.

The girl is talking to Jackson, brow furrowed. “Are those the guys who are looking for Danny?” she asks, and Jackson nods, looking at the ground. The girl turns and walks towards them, hand extended. Mulder holds back from flinching away. “You guys are looking for Danny?” she asks again, and Scully nods. “I'm Lucy Gerald,” the girl says. “I'm Danny’s girlfriend and an employee in the haunted house.”

“You're Danny’s girlfriend?” Mulder repeats, dumbfounded.

“And you work in the haunted house,” Scully repeats dryly.

Jackson is approaching them, awkwardly. Lucy Gerald is glaring at him. Between Lucy and Scully, this cluster of people must not seem very welcoming to the kid. And Mulder isn't too happy with him, either, even if ditching school to look for his friend is something that he would do.

“I can explain everything,” Jackson says.

---

“So you play a knife-sharpening girl in the haunted house?” Scully asks, scribbling notes on her pad of paper.

Lucy (who Mulder suspects isn't the girl who attacked him last night, but in reality, the basis that the demon used) nods. “Yeah, I, like, lunge at people in a harness. It's cool. It's more of a temporary job, actually, while the carnival’s in town… but yeah. I was super excited to get the job. Danny came to visit me here all the time.”

“What do you remember about the night Danny disappeared?” Scully continues.

“He came in and said hi to me before the show started. Said he and Jackson would be coming through at some point. I didn't know that'd be the last time I'd see him before he disappeared--or that Jack wouldn't tell me that my boyfriend was gone.” She shoots another searing glare at Jackson.

“Look, Lu, I would've told you! But you weren't there, you don't know how terrifying it was. That thing was chasing me, and I was scared to death for Danny and myself. I forgot. I came here this morning to tell you.”

“Yeah, sure. Real classy, Van de Kamp,” Lucy snaps, tugging on her sleeves.

“Speaking of, Miss Gerald…” Mulder says quickly. “Did you see the, um, monster Jackson talked about? In the house?”

Lucy shrugs. “I dunno. It's a fucking haunted house, man. There's a lot of weird sounds. I've never seen anything. And I haven't seen Danny, either. Maybe you should call the police?”

“We are the police,” Scully says wearily.

“Well, okay.” Lucy reaches for her bag, standing up. “I hope I helped some, and I hope you find Danny. There's no one inside the haunt right now if you want to look around.”

“One more question, Miss Gerald,” Mulder says suddenly. Lucy stops, turning to face him with a questioning look on her face. “You weren't… you were at the Motel 6 last night, were you?” Face flickering with surprise, she shakes her head. “You weren't… doing your haunted house bit on the roof of the breezeway?”

“Um, no. Can I go now?”

“Sure, go on,” Scully says, a slight edge in her voice. “We'll get in touch with you if we require further questioning.”

“Okay.” Lucy addresses Jackson sternly as she walks off: “Text me if you find him, Van de Kamp.”

Jackson shifts awkwardly in his seat, scratching the back of his neck. “It wasn't Lucy who attacked you,” he says to Mulder. “I think this… thing… might be able to imitate people.”

“And I think you said you were going to school,” Scully says, crossing her arms.

Jackson gulps. “I thought maybe Lucy would have a lead.”

“That's something we could've looked into,” Scully says sternly. “If you'd told us that Danny had a girlfriend.”

Jackson is staring at the ground. “I can… I can show you the room where Danny disappeared,” he offers.

“Fine.” Scully is still giving Jackson a stern look that gives Mulder a feeling somewhere between fascination and regret. “But no more running off. That is not okay. We told your parents we'd protect you, and we can't do that if we don't know where you are.”

“Sure, fine, whatever.” Jackson scrambles to his feet, motioning them towards the house. “C’mon, I haven't gotten a chance to look around yet. Maybe Danny is still in the house!”

---

Danny is not in the house.

Lucy was right, the entire house is empty. With the lights on, it has lost some of its eerie advantage. It just looks like a rundown mansion full of props. There's no need for flashlights, but they search the entire house from head to toe. No sign of Danny.

Jackson reminds Scully of Mulder in the moment, strangely enough, as he feverishly throws himself into finding his friend. The disappointment that flickers across his face every time they don't. Finally, he leads them towards the end of the house, practically dragging Mulder, to show them the room where Danny disappeared. “It's here, it's right here,” he says as they come to a nondescript chestnut door with a sheet of plastic taped to it. “I remember, because we went through the clown room and then we saw this door and Danny opened it…”

“Jackson?” With two fingers, Scully lifts the sheet of plastic to reveal the bright yellow front, the red letters reading DO NOT ENTER.

Jackson visibly falters. “That… that was not there before,” he says uncertainly. “This is the room, it…” He reaches past Scully to yank it open and shoves his way inside. They follow, Mulder flicking on the light as they enter.

The inside of the room is completely empty. Four walls, ceiling and floor. No windows or doors or anywhere that Danny could be kept hostage. No haunted house props. It looks like an oversized closet.

Jackson is kneeling on the floor, poking at floorboards. “Here!” he says suddenly. “Scully, look--it's my blood from when I was cut.”

Scully kneels beside him on the floor and sees the red-brown splotches under his finger. “I see that, Jackson,” she says uncertainly.

“This can't be… I don't… I'm gonna go find Lucy.” And with that, the kid gets up and runs out of the room. Scully makes no move to follow.

“Scully?” Mulder's hand brushes over her shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“If it weren't for the scratch on his leg and whatever attacked you the other night, I'd be convinced that this was all a prank,” says Scully. She gets to her feet slowly. “I'm still considering the possibility of a prank… I just don't think Jackson isn't in on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, think about it, Mulder. Anything could've made that cut on Jackson's leg. Danny has a girlfriend who works at the haunted house who could help him pull this off. You're the only one who's actually seen anything, one of the things you saw looked like Lucy and the other one was wearing a mask. This could very easily be a mean-spirited prank on Jackson.”

“Don't forget, I shot whatever attacked me, and Lucy Gerald looks pretty damn intact,” Mulder says. “And I saw both the clown and the girl disappear.”

“You could've missed Lucy, Mulder, we talked about this,” Scully says. “And you might’ve been seeing things… hell, Jackson might’ve been seeing things. No one saw or heard anything that suggests Danny was really abducted last night. I'm starting to have my doubts.”

“Starting?” Mulder raises an eyebrow. “You're forgetting, Scully, we're experts in the unexplained. Just because no one saw anything doesn't mean that Danny wasn't abducted. Something supernatural could've easily done something without anyone seeing.”

“Yes, but there's usually some kind of suggestion of that,” Scully counters. “All I'm seeing here is suggestion that all this was faked.”

“Of course it is, Scully,” Mulder snaps. “That's all you ever see.”

“What the hell does that mean?” she protests. “We're not even supposed to be here, Mulder, remember, we're supposed to be looking for…”

“Mulder, Scully!” Jackson reappears in the room, panting hard from clearly having ran back. “Lucy’s gone. Her boss has no idea where she is, he says she doesn't have a lunch break for another two hours and he thought she was working on putting together one of their fake ghosts. But I looked and she's just… she's just gone.”

---

Lucy Gerald’s car is still in the parking lot, but there's no sign of her on the entire carnival grounds, leaving Mulder and Jackson certain that whatever monster got Danny also got Lucy, and leaving Scully certain that this is all an elaborate plan so that Lucy and Danny could run away together. (She doesn't share her suspicions, of course.)

In the end, they have nothing to go on. In the end, Jackson is hungry, so they end up at the diner he mentioned earlier. “Mom texted,” he tells them as soon as the waitress takes their order and leaves with their menus. “She said they'll be in town soon. I told them to meet us here.”

Scully breathes out a sigh of relief. “That's good,” she says. She'll feel better once they're here, she thinks. Once they can get some straight history on Danny and can decide, once and for all, whether or not they need to keep looking for him.

“Yeah.” Jackson plays with his napkin. He's not looking at either of them. “You don't believe me anymore, do you,” he says.

Scully doesn't say anything. “Jackson, why didn't you tell us that Danny had a girlfriend who worked in the haunted house?” Mulder asks, and she can't read his tone.

“Because…” Jackson clears his throat awkwardly, cerulean eyes flashing in the light above the table. “Because Lucy and Danny used to talk about running away together.” Scully holds in the urge to say I told you so; she doesn't think it would help anything at the moment. “They both hate this town so much--Lucy’s homeschooled, she never gets out or sees anyone, they're both so lonely… but I thought if I told you that, you wouldn't want to look for Danny. Even if Mulder believed me…” He's looking straight at Scully now. “I wasn't sure if you would.”

Scully swallows uncomfortably, says, “You should've told us.”

Jackson fixes her with a determined look. “Who's William?”

Mulder's hand jolts, sending water cascading across the table. Scully's frozen in place, horrified. “How do you know about William?” Mulder asks, voice low and guarded.

“I've heard you talking about him,” Jackson says. “Is he the one you're supposed to be looking for?”

Scully breathes sharply, her fingernails digging into the cracked leather of the booth. “Jackson, I don't…”

“I heard you in the haunted house,” he says quietly.

She's not looking at Mulder. She's staring at the teenage boy sitting across from them, thinking he has them figured out. There are so many things she wants to say, but they do not owe an explanation to this random kid in a small town in Wyoming. He's the one who lied to them, for fuck’s sake. He's the one who lied to them.

“Who's William?” Jackson asks again, softer this time.

The bell of the diner door rings sharply, and everyone in the booth turns towards the door. “Mom,” Jackson says, his voice as sharp as the jabs in Scully's chest, and he scrambles to his feet and runs to hug the woman in the door.

Mom. She was a mother once, and now she is not, and she is supposed to be looking for her son. She gets up from the booth. “Scully,” Mulder says next to her. His fingers brush over the bend of her wrist.

She clenches her jaw. “I'm going back to the hotel, Mulder.”

“Scully?” His voice a question this time.

“Danny ran away,” she says, her voice hard. “We need to find our son, Mulder.”

“Scully.” His fingers tighten around her wrist, keeping her from leaving. “We never said William's name in the haunted house. As far as I know, we haven't referred to William by name in a place where Jackson could hear us.”

“What are you saying?” she hisses. Behind them, Jackson is frantically talking to four adults, hands waving. There's no truth to this and she wants to leave.

“I don't know what I'm saying, Scully. I'm saying…” His eyes are pleading. “I'm saying we can't walk away from this right now.”

Scully looks at the kid again. He reminds her of someone, but she can't put her finger on who. “You can take care of this, Mulder,” she says softly. “You were always better at that. I'm going to go look for our son.”

“Scully…” he tries again, but she's already pulled free and is walking towards the door. Jackson's eyes widen as he sees her pass and he says, “Scully,” too, in a tone that sounds like an apology, but she doesn't stop, and if anyone asked her she wouldn't be able to tell them why.

---

Mulder and Jackson give a brief version of the events of the past day to the Van de Kamps and Danny’s parents. When they want to know why his partner left, he lies and says she wasn't feeling well.

Mulder tells them what he saw, the clown and the strange girl. Jackson fills in the holes in his story, swearing a thousand times up and down as to what he saw. Danny’s parents don't believe them. Of course they don't, Mulder fills in bitterly; he is more than used to this by now, but it never stops being irritating, and it stings a little more right after his wife has run off for not believing him.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Jackson says, voice layered thick with disgust, when Danny’s parents reveal their feelings. “I saw him disappear! I saw him. Look at my leg!” He motions furiously at where he'd rolled up his jeans to show them Scully's bandaging job.

“Mae, something clearly attacked Jackson…” Mrs. Van de Kamp ventures.

“That doesn't matter,” Danny’s father snaps. “No one in their right mind would believe that story!”

“The FBI does,” Jackson snaps back, petulant.

“Well then, that man is crazy, too.” Danny’s father crosses his arms. “Our son is missing, and you put this crackpot on the case? Instead of calling the police?”

“He’s an FBI agent and I knew he'd believe me,” Jackson says.

“Well, after hearing that pack of bullshit, I think it's more likely that Daniel just ran away. It wouldn't be the first time, you know,” says Danny’s father. Danny’s mother's mouth thins, but she nods in agreement.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me,” Jackson growls.

“Jackson!” his father scolds.

Jackson ignores him. His fists are balled by his sides. “Danny’s out there, in trouble, and you just want to ignore that? Let him die?”

“Daniel is not going to die,” Danny’s mother says. “And we are not ignoring him. We're going to go and look for him right now.”

“You're not going to find him,” Jackson hisses. “You're not.” He turns and storms out, towards his parents’ parked car.

Danny’s parents exit directly after that, with some whispered parting words to the Van de Kamps and no acknowledgement of Mulder. The Van de Kamps shift awkwardly as the diner bell jingles behind them. “We… don't know how to thank you for protecting Jackson, Agent Mulder,” Jackson's father says finally. “It sounds like… I don't know what would've happened if you and your partner hadn't been there.”

“Yeah, well…” Mulder balls his hands in his pockets, bouncing up and down on his feet. “It's all part of the job description.”

“Hey!” Mulder turns to see the cook jabbing a spatula at them. “Either buy something or leave!”

“Would you mind coming back to the house with us?” Jackson's mother asks quickly. “I know it's a lot to ask, but… in case Danny really didn't run away…”

He didn't, Mulder wants to say. “Sure,” he says out loud.

Which is how he ends up jostling around in the back of the Van de Kamps car with Jackson while they drive home. (Scully took the car.) Jackson retreats upstairs to his room as soon as they get home, so Mulder suffers through an awkward afternoon and meal with the Van de Kamps while they wait for something to happen. Either for Danny to turn up or for the thing to attack again, he supposes. Scully texts a few times but he swipes the messages aside without looking at them.

Darkness starts to fall, slowly and then quickly, and trick-or-treaters start to mill up the Van de Kamps’ dusty driveway. Mulder had actually forgotten it was Halloween up until this moment. He almost can't believe it.

The Van de Kamps make light conversation about the time spent protecting Jackson and his work on the X-Files until there is nothing left to say, nothing left to do but to pick at Halloween candy. Mulder tears at a wrapper absently until Jackson's dad suggests he go check on Jackson. “Just to… make sure.”

Mulder is relieved for the excuse to leave. He follows Mrs. Van de Kamp’s instructions up the stairs and down the dark hallway, and knocks on Jackson's door. “Come in,” he says, and Mulder opens the door.

Jackson is hunched over a ragged cardboard box when Mulder comes in, labeled 2002 in faded Sharpie. He sits up when Mulder comes in, but keeps something made of brightly colored fabric on his lap. “Oh, hey, Agent Mulder,” he says uncertainly.

“Mulder is fine,” Mulder says, surveying the room a little. Overstuffed bookshelf, messy desk. Jackson motions to the desk chair and Mulder sits in it.”How, um… how are you doing, kid?” he tries, an attempt at conversation.

Jackson shrugs. “I'm worried about Danny.”

“I can imagine,” Mulder says softly. So many times he's lost people, more than enough to emphasize with the kid.

“Yeah, um.” Jackson twists the cloth on his lap. “Why did Scully leave?”

“Oh, she, um…”

“Was it because of what I said? About William?”

“Um…” Mulder sighs, shifting in the desk chair. “The thing you've gotta understand about Scully is that she's under a lot of pressure. Aside from the fact that she doesn't even believe in this… demon stuff… we're, uh, we're looking for someone, and she's very grounded in that. It's not that she doesn't care, it's just…”

“William,” Jackson supplies. “You're looking for William.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says, defeated. “Yeah, we are.”

“Who's William?”

Mulder leans his head in his hands briefly, tries not to think of his son in danger somewhere. “He's our son,” he says.

Jackson doesn't prod anymore. When Mulder looks up, he's staring at the fabric in his lap. The patterns on it are blurry, but they look half familiar. Kind of like… stars. Stars and UFOs.

“Jackson,” he ventures. “How did you know about William? The only time we ever called him by name is after we dropped you off at school, and there's no way you could've heard us there.”

“Um, no.” Jackson is shaking his head. “No, you definitely brought it up around me. Last night… at the house…”

“No,” Mulder says. “No, we definitely didn't talk about it then. I remember.”

Jackson's hands twist into fists around the UFO cloth in his lap. No, not cloth--something like a onesie. Mulder is about to ask him what else he's hiding, but what ends up coming out of his mouth is, “What's all that stuff?”

“Oh, um…” Jackson's hands move in a clumsy but quick motion, dropping the onesie back into the box. “Just some stuff from when Mom and Dad first adopted me. No big deal.”

“You were adopted?” Mulder asks, in disbelief.

Jackson nods, turning his bright blue eyes up to meet Mulder's.

Something springs forth in Mulder's mind, like the light of a flame. “Jack--” he starts.

A creaking footstep out in the hall before the door slams open.

Mulder and Jackson both get to their feet and turn to face what's in the doorway. It's a kid, a little boy in a cowboy costume. But there is red smeared along his face, red on his teeth when he smiles menacingly (in the same way that the not-Lucy had the night before), red spilling out of the plastic pumpkin he extends forward.

“Mulder?” Jackson whispers. “What do we…”

The boy lunges at Mulder, making the decision for them. Mulder stumbles back, startled, fumbling for his gun, but the boy slams into him with more force than expected and the gun goes clattering out of his hand. He collapses against the bed, groaning at the pain that reverberates through his back.

“Not my weapon of choice,” the kid says in an unnerving voice, scooping up Mulder's gun. In his hand, it melts away to shadows.

“Hey!” Mulder yelps, mostly a stalling technique. “I liked that gun!”

The child smiles sweetly before lunging again, fingernails glinting sharp as knives. Mulder closes his eyes and waits for the pain, but it never comes. He hears a loud thump. He opens his eyes and sees the demon-child crumpled against the wall, sees Jackson with his hand extended, shaking just a little, but his eyes blazing enough to make up for it. “Where the fuck is my friend?” he shouts.

The boy's eyes glint red and he growls. Jackson flicks his hand in a sharp motion, and the demon slams into the wall again. “Tell me!”

The lights flicker off and Mulder yelps, reaching for the kid. When they come back on, Jackson is still there, and so is Scully. Scully is hunched against the wall in the demon's place. It takes a few good looks to tell it is not Scully, but the demon imitating Scully. Like the fucking doppelgangers. Just his fucking luck.

“You don't want to hurt me, Jackson,” it says in Scully's voice, and God help him, he falters.

“I-I won't,” Jackson stammers. “I won't if you tell me where Danny is.”

It smiles, crueler than Scully smiles. “Jackson, yo-you have to fight it,” Mulder says, and he can barely get the words out. It's Scully.

“I don't see you doing any better,” it says, turning its grin on Mulder, and he feels something clamp around his ankle all of a sudden. He can't move away, he's rooted to the spot.

“Tell. Me. Where. Danny. Is,” Jackson hisses through clenched teeth. He's putting on a good act, but his hands are still shaking. Poor kid, his hands are still shaking.

“I don't think I will,” the horrible Scully-thing says, and this is so much worse than the doppelgangers. So much worse. “And whether I do or I don't, you still won't hurt me, and do you know why? Do you know why, Jackson?”

“No,” the kid hisses.

The room is shaking, and its nails are digging hard into Mulder's ankle and he still can't move, can't even find the strength to talk. “You won't hurt me, Jackson, sweetie,” the thing says sweetly, in the voice of the woman Mulder loves. “Because you know I'm your m--”

“NO,” Jackson roars, and the lights flicker off, and the room shakes hard. Mulder absently tries to rate it on the Richter scale as he is thrown back and forth so hard that his teeth rattle in his head. The thing is hissing, and its claws are digging into Mulder's leg hard enough to draw blood, and Jackson is saying things Mulder can't understand. And the shadows are surrounding them, choking him. He's a part of them.

He tries to fight as the laughter of the thing that doesn't sound like Scully anymore echoes through his ears, but it's too late. Everything goes black.

---

Scully has typed at least five apologies to Mulder and has received a reply on none of them. She's frustrated and worried and sad. She is trying. She is. She thought they'd agree that they'd both try. She had a knee-jerk reaction like this during the first two X-Files; she thought he'd expect it. Maybe this one is because she's never actually walked away before. Or maybe it's because there's a kid involved. This is Gibson Praise and Kevin Kryder and Amber LaPierre all over again: it's always the kids with them.

Scully sits hunched over her laptop at the little table, fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard. She is combing through adoption records, trying to untangle the thread she'd knotted tightly to hide William. So tightly that she'd never be able to find him. She's buried so deeply in her screen that she misses the first call (she keeps her phone on vibrate out of annoyance for all the little sounds it makes). When she finally looks up, her screen announces the missed call from an unknown number, Wyoming area code. And then the number calls again, vibrating like an angry bee against the tabletop.

Mulder, she thinks, probably broken his phone again and calling from someone else's. She never answers numbers she doesn't recognize, but. Maybe he needs her help. Maybe this is their chance to bury the hatchet. She presses Send and lifts the phone to her ear.

“Scully, it's me!” someone unfamiliar roars into the phone.

Mulder's typical greeting, but the voice is too high to be Mulder. “Who is ‘me’?” she demands.

“Jackson Van de Kamp! You need to meet me at the carnival, right away. I stole my parents’ car.”

“You stole your parents’…” Closing her eyes wearily, she rubs her temples. “Jackson, what's going on? Where's Mulder?”

“That's what I'm trying to tell you,” Jackson says frantically. “The demon thingy, it took him.” Scully's blood freezes in her veins and she finds herself unable to speak. “It has my friend and my friend's girlfriend, I think, and now it has your boyfriend. We need to kill it. We need to kill it and save them.”

She has the same tight feeling in her chest as she's had a thousand times before, the underlying monologue of I never should've left them. “Jackson?” she says softly.

“Yeah?”

“I'll meet you there.” He sighs with relief, audibly, on the other line. “Don't do anything until I get there,” she says sharply. “I'm serious.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Jackson stammers, and she hangs up and lets the phone fall on the bed.

She wants to swear or cry out or both. She settles for swearing as she rummages for her gun. Why did she think she could leave him alone and disaster wouldn't result? Part of her wants to say that at least the kid didn't get hurt; the other part of her wants to vehemently protest that this is just as bad, with Mulder, the most equipped to fight a monster or whatever, gone, and her taking a kid into danger. But she can't argue with him; he's as stubborn as Mulder in his determination to bring his friend home.

Her fingers close around her gun and she turns and bursts out of the hotel room, running straight for the door.

---

Jackson is waiting for her at the entrance, eyes wide and nervous, fingers tangled in his jacket. “What happened?” Scully demands as she catches up to him.

Jackson motions her into the park, recounts how the demon attacked him and Mulder in his bedroom, taking on the form of a trick-or-treater first, and then her. Scully shudders; after the doppelganger mess, that couldn't have been easy for Mulder. “I think it had its hand around Mulder's ankle,” Jackson says in a rushed voice, motioning wildly with his hands. “He couldn't move. I tried to fight it, and then the lights turned off, and when they turned back on, he was gone.”

“Why did it take Mulder?” Scully demands. “Why did it take Mulder instead of you? I thought you were the intended target.”

Jackson bites his lower lip--just for a minute, he looks like a little kid. “I wouldn't let it.”

“You wouldn't let it?”

“No,” Jackson says, and doesn't elaborate.

“Jackson, what do you mean you…”

“Would you rather it have taken me?”

Scully is stunned. “No, sweetie, of course not,” she says quickly, words tangling in her mouth. “You're our responsibility, we have to keep you safe. If anyone has to be taken, it's… it's better that it's Mulder. Now I know it's real.” Even if she has no idea how to fight it.

“Why do you believe me now?” Jackson demands. “Is it because your boyfriend was taken?”

Her face is growing red; she clenches her hand around the butt of her gun and searches the crash of people in costumes and masks for the haunted house. “I always believed you, Jackson,” she says, and she doesn't know why, but she did. “I believed everything you told me. I just thought you were being lied to.”

“Well, I wasn't.” Jackson's face is just as red as hers, but from anger instead of embarrassment. “I know what I saw.”

“I know,” Scully says quietly. He reminds her so much of Mulder in this moment, and she doesn't know why. “I know.” She sees the house and motions him towards it. “Over there.”

They walk in silence for a split second before Jackson asks, “If it were… your son, telling these stories… would you believe him?” And his tone isn't accusatory but actually questioning, and he sounds like a little kid.

Scully swallows hard. “Mulder told you?”

“Yeah,” Jackson mumbles. “Would you?”

“Jackson...”

“You people again!” It's the guy who runs the haunted house, who they butted heads with quite a few times that morning. “I thought you'd have more decency than to ruin the biggest night of the year, you know…”

Scully shoves her badge in his face. “Federal agent, you have to shut down the haunted house,” she says breathlessly.

“What? You've gotta be fucking kidding me!”

“Sir, I have reason to believe that there are three people in danger in there, two of whom are adolescents. Now if I were you, I'd shut down the house right now,” Scully says in the iciest tone she has.

The owner balks under her stare and turns to start filing people out of the attraction. “Nice,” Jackson mutters under his breath, admiringly if not somewhat begrudgingly. Despite the tumultuous emotions of the moment, Scully smiles a little.

“You can't go in with me, you know,” she says to the kid as they watch people file out of the house.

“What? Scully, you have to take me with you!”

“No, I really don't,” she says. “You're a minor, you're not trained in any of this, I am not putting you in danger tonight…”

“You need me,” Jackson insists, voice hard. “I can do… just watch this.” He levels his arm in front of him, extending his hand towards the house.

Scully watches in panicked disbelief as the red Prepare for your DOOM sign rises a few inches out of the dirt. The last time she was someone do this was… no. She watches as Jackson lowers the sign gently, considers. She still wants to say no… but what are the odds that she can get any of them out on her own? “You can come,” she says quietly.

Jackson perks up. “Really?”

“Yes, but on three conditions. One, you have to do what I say. Two, you have to stay behind me. And three, if I tell you to leave, just listen.”

“Okay,” Jackson says, bouncing. “Okay.”

The people coming out of the house have slowed to a trickle. The guy motions them forward. Scully draws her gun and tells Jackson, “Stay behind me,” one more time before they enter the house.

---

The house is badly lit from candles hanging from the wall. Jackson flips the light switch to no avail. “Power's out.”

Scully groans. “Of course it is.” She digs around in her bag for a flashlight, turns apologetically back to Jackson and says, “I only have the one.”

“I have one on my keychain.” He pulls the clanking metal out of his pocket and clicks on a little light that is insanely bright for its size. Scully nods, motions him forward, and the two of them keep going.

There are no actors in the haunted house, but some of the automated scares haven't been disabled yet. So around almost every corner, there is something rigged to pop out or look gruesome. Scully's nerves are strong enough that she just jolts a few times, tensing more and more with every jump scare, but Jackson is a lot more susceptible, jumping a mile most of the time and yelping briefly with fear. “Sorry,” he mumbles on the third or fourth one.

Scully pats his shoulder comfortingly. “It happens. Mulder hates these things, you know.”

“Really?” he asks. Scully nods, and his shoulders fall a little bit with relief. “We're almost there, I think,” he adds.

“What are we looking for?” Scully bats away the ghost girl that came flying out on a string as they enter the next room.

“The room where Danny and I were taken,” Jackson says. “I think that's where it lives.”

They reach the room a few minutes later, and Jackson reaches out and turns the doorknob without hesitation. The door's hinges squeal slowly and painfully as the door swings open; Scully shudders and enters the room, flashlight held up and motioning Jackson to stay behind her. Her beam bounces off the empty wall as they come into the room, flickers once and then goes out completely, plunging them into darkness as the door slams shut behind them. “Shit!” Jackson hisses, panicked, and she can hear the jangle of his keys as he tries to get the light to come on. Scully smacks her torch hard, shaking it in place, but no luck. “Danny?” Jackson calls, voice high with fear. “Mulder?”

The next thing Scully hears is footsteps. Footsteps that can't be coming from either of them, because it's headed straight for where Jackson stands behind her. Footsteps over the creaking floorboards, and then a growling sound.

“Jackson, look out!” Scully shouts, shoving him away and stumbling into the place where he stood a minute ago. Something slams into her, something large and dark and freezing cold that slams her to the floor with its weight. Acting on instinct, she whacks it hard in what she hopes is the head with her flashlight. The growling stops; hoping it's stunned, she fumbles for her gun and aims above her, crying out, “Jackson, get out of the way!” before firing three times into the mass above her.

Nothing in the room but Jackson's shallow breathing. There is a sharp sound from somewhere above her, and then Mulder's wounded voice: “Scully?”

For a moment, she can't breathe. Her grip goes slack on the gun. “Mulder?”

The gun is knocked from her hand. Hysterical laughter fills her ears as she is pinned to the floor; she tries to struggle, but she can't move. She can feel the darkness surrounding her, getting closer, closer, closing in. “Scully!” Jackson yelps, but she can't do anything to help him, can't scream, can't do anything but…

She's somewhere else, all of a sudden, sprawled out on what feels something like a flat surface, and she hears Mulder's voice as if from underwater: “Scully?”

His arms go around her as he helps her up, and she leans into him, hugging him hard around the waist. “Mulder,” she says, voice thick with relief. “Where are we? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Mulder says, and he sounds kind of sad in the dark. “I don't know where we are.”

Scully blinks hard, clearing her clouded vision, and struggles to sit up without leaning on Mulder. They are in somewhere dark, somewhere without shape or form; a short distance away from them, Lucy Gerald huddles on the ground with a kid she recognizes from his photos. Danny. “God,” she says, hushed. “I should've believed him sooner.”

“Where did it get you?” Mulder touches her arm. “Back at the motel?”

“No,” she says foggily, remembering. Jackson. He's alone and defenseless now. Fuck. “No, at the haunted house. We came here to find you and Danny.”

Danny lifts his head from his girlfriend's shoulder. “Jackson? Is he here?”

“No,” Scully says, crouching on the floor in an attempt to gage their surroundings. “No, he's back there.”

“There's no way out, I've already looked,” says Mulder, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Jackson’s here? You brought him with you?”

“No, of course not! He would've come either way, I couldn't have stopped him. He… stole his parents’ car and called me on the way.”

Mulder is startled at first, but he immediately dissolves into laughs. “That kid,” he says. “That kid is endlessly creative and mildly insane.”

“Yes.” Scully swallows, says softly, “He reminds me of you.”

Mulder blinks, stunned. Seems to consider things before saying, “He's out there, right now?”

“Yeah.” She's viciously hoping that the kid runs instead of trying to save her. “Why?”

In lieu of an answer, Mulder just squeezes his eyes shut and screws up his face in concentration. It reminds her a bit of the times when he'd try to read minds after his brain surgery, even though the power had been taken away. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“I'm calling for Jackson. If he hears me, he can find us.”

“Mulder, Jackson can't hear us here,” Scully says, but she knows that's not true.

Mulder opens his eyes, squeezes her arm encouragingly, knowingly. “Yes, he can, Scully.” He turns to face the teenagers in the corner. “Danny?”

Danny blinks slowly as he switches his focus from Lucy to them. “Yeah?”

“Has Jackson ever shown you a… thing he can do? Like lifting things with his mind? Or reading thoughts?” Mulder asks, and Scully suddenly knows how he knew about William. God, she never would've known…

“Yeah, I guess so,” Danny says nervously.

“I need you to think at him. Call out for him in your mind.” Mulder squeezes her arm again. “You too, Scully.”

“O-okay,” Danny says, and he closes his eyes in an expression similar to Mulder a few minutes ago. Mulder closes his eyes, too.

Scully feels strange, trying to do this, but no stranger, she supposes, than when she'd tried to reassure Mulder when he was sick and reading minds. When she'd tried to tell him that she was there and she loved him and not to leave her. She wishes she could have talked to William when she had the chance. She closes her eyes, leaning into Mulder, and thinks, Jackson, this is Scully. We're here, we need your help.

Underneath Lucy’s protests of, “Hey, what the hell is going on?”, Scully feels the chamber they're in start to shift around them. She grips on tightly to Mulder, not wanting to lose him in the transfer, and he grips her tightly back. She opens her eyes as the shadow-room around then becomes the room she was in a few minutes ago, now lit just a little by a tiny flame. The strange sensation falls away, and she and Mulder fall, too, hitting the floor hard a few feet away from Lucy and Danny.

“Shit,” says Jackson, standing a few feet away with a strange look on his face and the flame in his hand. He's shaking, but he stands his ground. “How the hell did I do that.”

Scully hears a rabid hissing and turns to see the shape in the corner, the shape turning and advancing on Lucy and Danny, and she fumbles for her gun before she remembers that she doesn't have it. Lucy is shrieking as the monster gets closer, and Scully tries to get to her feet.

There is a whoosh of air, and the shadow demon gets pushed back into the corner with a considerable amount of force. She turns and sees Jackson with his hand extended, arm trembling but holding the monster in place. “You need to go,” he says. “Now.”

“We're not leaving you, kid,” Mulder says, voice wavering.

“Go!” Jackson shouts, all teenage exasperation, trembling from the effort. “I can't hold it much longer. I have a plan. Get Danny and Lucy out of here.”

His hand with the flame is extended, next to the hand he is using to pin the demon to the wall, and Scully suddenly recognizes the flame for what it is: a lighter. “Let's go, Mulder,” she says, moving to where Lucy and Danny are huddled on the floor. Mulder is already there, helping Danny off of the floor; she loops Lucy’s arm around her shoulders and hoists her up. They move outside of the room, where Lucy stumbles away from Scully with irritation and goes to Danny’s side. Mulder leaves Danny with her and comes with Scully to the door to watch Jackson.

He is pulling a water bottle filled with dark liquid out of his jacket, flicking off the lighter and moving closer to the demon. The demon is growling and struggling in place. Jackson unscrews the water bottle, and Scully recognizes the cloying scent. “What the fuck is that kid doing,” Mulder hisses.

Jackson is trembling with the effort of keeping the demon still, but he manages to put the lighter away and spray his Dasani of gasoline all over the monster. It hisses wildly, angrily. “Jackson, you're gonna have to get out of there, fast!” Scully shouts.

Jackson ignites the lighter, holds it over the demon. “Run!” Mulder shouts, pounding the door frame with one hand.

He drops the lighter and spins on his heel, runs as the demon ignites in flame. It roars in pain, and the room shakes, the walls shifting. Scully reaches for him and yanks him out of the room by his arm. “We need to go,” she says breathlessly.

The fire is spreading as the demon shrieks and runs around the room, smoke choking the tiny space. Jackson slams the door behind them before leading them towards the nearby exit. Smoke chokes the hallways as they exit, Lucy and Danny with their arms around each other's waists, Mulder and Scully huddling near Jackson. Scully puts a hand on the kid's shoulder and covers her mouth and nose with her free hand. Mulder puts his hand in hers and squeezes. It is getting harder and harder to see. Scully breathes a sigh of relief when they hit the outside, fresh air.

Carnival goers and employees mingle around outside; their eyes widen when they see the ragged group of people outside the haunted house. “Call an ambulance!” Mulder shouts.

Lucy and Danny collapse at a nearby picnic table and Jackson comes over to hug them in relief. Lucy doesn't seem too thrilled about that--she must still be mad at him--but Danny accepts his friend's hug gratefully. “Dude,” he says, sounded exhausted but no less impressed. “That was badass.”

Jackson laughs, thumping him on the back. “Thanks, man. I'm glad you're okay.”

Scully turns to hug Mulder briefly but gratefully. They both smell like ashes and gunpowder, but she is glad they're all okay. She's glad the kid is okay.

Sirens start up in the distance, close to the entrance of the park. “Oh, I should… probably go explain things,” Jackson says to Danny and Lucy. “Will you guys be okay?”

Lucy says nothing, but Danny nods, taking her hand. “We'll be fine.”

“Okay. I'll send a paramedic over here,” Jackson says, standing and coming towards the sirens.

“We'll come, too,” says Scully, stepping away from Mulder. “We can help fill in the gaps.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jackson looks awkwardly at the ground, but there is the hint of a smile at the edges of his mouth. “Thank you guys for, um… for saving my life.”

Mulder is smiling a little, too. “Thank you for saving ours.”

Jackson nods, looking up and meeting their eyes. “I'm sorry I lied before,” he says. “You guys are really cool.” He turns and walks towards the sirens. They follow behind him.

“Mulder,” Scully says. They are both watching Jackson, she realizes, as he walks a few feet in front of them. “I, uh, I had a few thoughts on this… this search for William.”

Before they can say anything, they hear a loudly bellowed, “William Jackson Van de Kamp!” Seconds later, Jackson's mother appears, throwing her arms around her son.

“Scully,” Mulder says quietly, watching Jackson suffocated in his mother's embrace. “I don't think we need to look for William anymore.”

“I know,” she whispers, taking his hand. Jackson's bright blue eyes glint in the light of the spreading fire behind them and she rests her head on his shoulder. “I know.”

this fic was a long wip that changed premise at least 4 times and actually managed to get finished despite me starting it 27 days later than i would’ve liked. @firstofoctober sent me the excellent prompt “creepy halloween carnival/fair - mulder & scully, william”, and i finally, finally found something i wanted to do and ran with it. having written it entirely between college visits, installments of stranger things, and at 5 am, chunks of writing can be attested to this

- danny was straight up named after the kid in the shining; i bought a copy at a university book store the day i started writing it

- any parallels to stranger things or other various horror movies i probably channeled are unintentional.the demon was always a demon who moved through shadows (thought up pre-st s2), but i didn’t name it “shadow demon” until post st s2, and didn’t figure out the parallels to shadow monster/shadow demon until i’d already posted prt 1. headdesk. 

- sources for most of my s11 spec: x, x, x. i mostly centered this story around the two major s11 theories i’ve had: that mulder and scully will be on the run looking for william all season, and that they’ll meet william(/jackson??) on a case and have no idea it’s him

- that being said, i don’t love calling william jackson, and you better believe it was hard for me. (one time, i straight up typed william instead of jackson, in the scene where mulder is talking to the vdks on the phone.) i mostly wanted to do it to a) try and get used to the william’s name is jackson now theory (news???) and b) to help conceal william’s identity from m&s longer, bc i thought they’d figure it out sooner if they were hanging with a kid who reminds them a lot of them, and oh, hey, his name happens to be william...

- that also being said, the clown in this fic is dedicated to it, s7 of ahs, the potential murder clown i saw outside my mom’s house, and my friend jack’s (short for jackson, go figure) haunted trail, which really did feauture the white room with strobe lights and clowns invading your personal space that jackson/william talks about in the book. go figure

[ragethewriter]

WBJ Day 6 - Gender and Sexuality

...

So anyone who’s met my characters, knows that the dystopian world of Hybrid has some interesting issues regarding this topic.  And what better opportunity to create a masterpost about what those issues are, and more importantly: how and why they developed.

This entry is going to get long, because it requires going back to the origin and genetic design of the Hominus Anima (A.K.A. the animal people).  So buckle up! ** fair warning: this post will deal with topics of mating and reproduction (nothing explicit, but I know clinical biology isn’t everyone’s cup of tea!) ** Full post is under the cut!

~~~

So for starters, the Anima have a very different understanding of what gender and sexuality are, due to influences from their animal ancestry, and the way the Alphas designed them (cough-cough, as an efficient slave race). This difference boils down to an emphasis on breeding behaviors.   Which is a direct result of two things in their world: A) the fact that, comparatively, these new humans have a stupidly low sex drive. B) for other reasons (some of them spoilers), they also have a stupidly low conception rate.

Because of this, their world faces a significant underpopulation problem, which the Alphas have had to combat over the centuries by various means.  Breeding behaviors have been designed and reinforced as a top priority (a trait shared by much of the animal kingdom) in order to keep the new human race afloat.  And yet, the fact that the average Anima spends very little time on these things has lead to quite a few interesting behaviors, ideas, and cultural trends in their world.

- - -

On gender:

In brief summary: Anima don’t consider gender a prevalent form of identity. 

Most individuals, if asked, would identify primarily as their breed, and then secondarily by traits such as age, social heirarchy/job, and any other roles they fill.  Gender roles in Anima society are therefore comparatively very rare, as they are usually only applicable to the process of conceiving and birthing a child.  This has led to a cultural phenomenon wherein the concept of “gender” is treated more often as a device of the conversational audience, rather than a facet of one’s personal identity.

As a result (and an odd social caveat): most Anima find it very odd, sometimes even socially taboo, to discuss or fixate on gender in an unrelated conversation.  This is because bringing up gender among Anima implies that the conversation should be about sexual compatibility and reproduction... which can be just as inappropriate as unwanted sexual advances are in our culture.  Furthermore, particularly among scenting breeds, it’s considered incredibly rude to correct instances of misgendering - as doing so both implies that the speaker is currently preoccupied with the concept of sex, and that the person who did the misgendering has dull senses or poor instinct (both of which are insults).  Since misgendering is especially common between breeds with unfamiliar or inverted sexual dimorphism, the socially amicable response is usually to assume the gender for the remainder of the conversion, rather than correct it.  [As can be referenced by the fact that even The War Mother, a Hyena-blood Beta, often goes by “sir” or “domine” when addressed directly!]

The fact that Anima still use male/female pronouns and titles in their language at all, is a result of the prevalence of horomones/pheromones and body language among their species.  Recognizing and assigning gender is still second nature to Anima regardless of their sexual intent, and is instinctually tied to behaviors that help them navigate their social environments, in everything from facilitating pack-bonding to avoiding incest.

THAT BEING SAID~

There is one big exception to the Anima’s social discussion of gender... and that’s on the topic of sexual dimorphism.

There are plenty of Anima breeds that exhibit sexual dimorphism, to the point that gender can permeate other, non-sexual aspects of the local culture.  In a Clan where avian males are the only ones dragging around extravagant plumage, it’s much more socially acceptable to use gender as a casual identifier, and you’d be more likely to find things like gendered speech, male-targeted hairdressers, or female-exclusive sports.  

However, these “gender roles” caused by dimorphism are usually only gendered in translation - wherein it is rare but possible to find individuals that subvert them.  Like any other breed, gender itself is still only important in the context of breeding children - and any other social identity may be considered correlated, but separate.  A male Lion-blood may go his entire life behaving like a lioness; dressing, acting, and performing feminine roles in his clan... and yet never once think to consider himself female unless he was literally birthing a cub.

Everything else aside, the good news of the Anima gender perspective is that gender dysphoria and negative body image among their species is at an all-time low!  When gendered attractiveness is compartmentalized to mating (and as the Anima would say: “mating isn’t everything”), there’s plenty of body-positive confidence on the subject of gender to go around. 

Breed dysphoria is another, far more prevalent story... but that’s a topic for different day.

- - -

On Sexuality:

Similar to gender, sexuality as a concept is also not prevalent in Anima society - as it is also exclusively related to breeding.  

The infamously low Anima sex drive is the main culprit of their culture’s lack of casual sex.  Breeding may require plenty of it; but for an Anima, if you aren’t already neck-deep in pheromones and courting instincts to get the engines running, there’s simply no reason to care.  This has led to a peculiar social perspective of the entire breeding process, in that it is both a chore, but also a kinda-sorta-fun-and-respected life experience for those who do it.  And with all the strings attached (courting compulsions, tending one’s den, caring for offspring), very little of the breeding process is actually “sexual” when it’s all said and done.

As a side-effect of this lack of sexuality, Anima also lack a concept of sexual orientation.

To clarify: when asking an Anima what their sexual orientation is, the only possible translation of the concept is “who are you sexually attracted to”, to which 90% of the time would merit an answer of “I'm not sexually attracted right now”, and the other 10% some variant of “I'm sexually attracted to [my current mate]”, both with a side of “why the hell are you asking.”  Occasionally, you might find an Anima that extrapolates the concept to “I like redheads” or “I want an older mate”, or maybe even someone who has planned the traits they want in their children.  (All of these, of course, kindof missing the point)

By our definition, Anima spend most of their time as functionally asexual - but this is not the label they would assign themselves as an orientation, as their sex drive is (usually) very much present, just dependent on other criteria.  

That being said, there are some Anima that are born (or in some cases, altered) to be truely asexual, by their terms - and cannot achieve attraction or arousal in any scenario.  This can sometimes accompany an individual’s lack of response to the horomone cycles that instigate courting behaviors... but outside of that specific social context, is nearly impossible to ever recognize (even by the person affected).

Because of their lack of orientation, Anima are more easily quantifiable on a scale of hypo- to hyper-sexuality.  Hypersexual Anima are generally those more susceptible to pheromones, courting/breeding compulsions, and even in some cases, unprompted sexual desire. what a crazy concept amirite...  And while slow-leaning trends will show that natural selection has gradually increased the prevalence of sexuality in the general Anima population, there are some breeds that have been selectively bred, or even engineered to be hypersexual: namely the Rabbit-blood cloners, and many Domestic breeds with a short generational turnover.  On the rare, high end of the hypersexual scale, it is also possible to find Anima that display bisexual behavior (though usually overshadowed by a marked preoccupation with breeding instincts). 

Libido and susceptibility aside, the main proponent of most sexual encounters among Anima is still the drive to conceive children - no matter how difficult and lengthy the preluding courtship process is.  However, there are still some instances of mating that happen without this motivation: namely when humans mate outside of their Breed, since it is universally known that such a pairing can produce no offspring.  These cases can arise due to factors such as acts of diplomacy between Clans (kindof like an arranged marraige, but temporary), securing a Beta’s patronage (kindof like a greencard marraige), cultural trends, pure curiosity, or even sometimes... romantic love (which is a foreign and unexplored concept to most Anima**).  These unique cases of “barren courtships”, while not condemned by society, are usually regarded as peculiar.

Further complicating matters is the fact that, to the Anima, the very concept of anything "sexual” is exclusively limited to the act of breeding.  This means that many breeds don’t cover the “bases” (some mates don’t even kiss), and anything physical that is done outside of an intentional copulation to pursue conception is... not actually sexual, by Anima standards.  By extention, even “barren courtships” between different breeds, or nonfertile individuals are pushing the Anima definition of “mating” - hence why they’re considered odd.

This is due to the fact that, as discussed, sexual desires among most Anima are fleeting, and can normally only surface after being triggered in courtship (and in some pairings, never at all).  In most cases where Anima have experienced unprompted sexual desire, they usually don’t recognize said feelings for what they are, and lack the motivation to pursue them.

** A note on the fact that Anima society lacks the concept of romantic relationships: Most Anima subsist on platonic love within “packs” of family or friends, and it is fairly uncommon for mates to stay together for longer than a few seasons.  Courtship itself is usually considered a social event by those partaking in it; and while the experience can sometimes facilitate friendships and platonic bonding, the intense, instinct-driven attraction and possessiveness of a chosen mate rarely develops into a lasting attachment once the horomones have faded.  Pairings that do manage produce a child sometimes subvert this, as both parents usually remain equally involved with their offspring, and are much more likely to join packs or develop a companionship due to proximity.

- - -

SO. As stated, allll of these weird ideas on gender and sexuality arose from the circumstances of the Anima’s design.  There’s a reason why these things have gotten to this point.  And that reason is 100% because of the Alphas mucking around in the human genome. those assholes.

So here’s how it all started:

- - -

- The Alphas, in designing their first generation of spliced-up humans, started tinkering with neurology, in an effort to make their eventual labor force less mentally erratic, and more obedient cooperative.

- As a result, they also inadvertently crippled their humans’ libido.

- To make matters worse, the Alphas had also redesigned their humans to function off a variant of an estrous cycle, rather than a menstrual cycle (again, to make their labor force more manageable.  Also can you imagine the chaos of a monthly blood cycle with SCENTING BREEDS?  Ugh no thanks).

- Meaning that not only was the first generation's pheromone game and sexual drive weaksauce, but they also had a drastically lowered conception rate.  Their version of induced-ovulation-esterous meant that they had to be consistently getting laid, before ovulation can even occur.  And who was doing the laying?? Not these guys.

- And in raising this first generation of Anima, the Alphas quickly realized that the new birth rate was so low that their precious slave population was nigh unsustainable.

-  So they went back to the drawing board... added a few tweaks and triggers to the courtship process... and cooked up a hormonal mechanism to kick-start the whole thing, which became known as the Full-Moon.

- - - And this is where it gets interesting.

Because the Alphas, in designing their next batch of “Hominus Anima 2.0″, had observed the key features of the few, first-gen Anima that had actually been producing kiddos.  What they found was that:

A)  humans had the propensity to adopt courting tactics to assist their sexual motivation, given that a social aspect and a healthy dose of pheromones were involved. B) those humans that went through this extensive process of social attachment (the precursor to imprinting) were more likely to get together, and stay together long enough to conceive. C)  the parenting instincts of Anima were thankfully still strong and functioning - even enough to revive their sex drive, given that the circumstances were right. ... So the Alphas arrived at the solution that, with a little tinkering in the hormone/pheromone cycle and the sway of instinct, the Anima could be coerced into a courting season that would lead to more babies.  And that’s exactly what they did.

~ CUE THE FULL-MOON ~

A Full-Moon is an occurrence in Anima society that helps begin a courting season.  It is a different experience for every breed.

The point of a full-moon (as the Alphas designed it), is to facilitate the process of matchmaking and imprinting on a potential mate.  When this event does its job right, the most compatible pairings become acquainted, and trigger each others’ courtship behaviors - eventually leading them to become mates (and hopefully parents).  It’s not a perfect system - nor a voluntary one - but it has since become a staple in their society.  And in most cases, it does work.

The full-moon itself is a hormone cycle that is synchronized among the females (sound familiar?) of a particular breed.  They produce pheromones that trigger the males to engage in a variety of behaviors over the course of a few days.  These behaviors vary greatly between Breeds - with the endgame being to help each affected male recognize the most compatible partner, appeal to her, and win her affection... or at least her attention.

Symptoms of a full-moon can therefore range anywhere from collecting shiny objects, to singing, fighting, dizziness, shedding, posturing, fever, gorging, fatigue, hyperactivity, and a whole host of other examples - each unique to their breed (and usually rooted in some instinct or another).  And the more drastic the reaction to a particular female, the higher the compatibility - like a homing device for the best potential mate.  Overdosing on said pheromones by proximity is usually the only way to quiet the symptoms to a manageable level.

In many cases, full-moons produce nothing more than uninterested bachelor/ettes that undergo the process as a social ritual, and part ways as amicable acquaintances.  But for those couples that weather more severe affects, the instinct to begin courtship is strong enough to prevail.  The courting season that follows a full-moon (featuring said couples), is treated by most clans as a cultural experience rather than an intimate one, given the performance-driven nature of the behaviors and traditions. (this is for the COURTSHIP.  Actual mating is by no means a public spectacle, dear god.)

... And bada-bing, bada-boom, the Alphas have their next generation of slave labor!  Who would have thought that breeding humans in captivity would be so much work. ~ ~ ~

That’s about it for this masterpost.  

Yes, there are many specifics I haven’t mentioned here, and yes, I can and will answer any questions about them.  (Can you tell I love biology? because I do.)  From the author’s perspective, this weirdly fucked-up world was a lot of fun to build even on this topic (and hey, it’s a dystopia, it’ll be more fun to tear down) - with plenty of details inspired by and taken from real animal behavior!

This will probably be my longest post of WBJ - since, hello, it’s a ROMANCE, these details are intrinsic to the plot, and this explanation was a long time coming.

AND CONGRATULATIONS IF YOU ACTUALLY MADE IT THROUGH THIS WHOLE POST.  HAVE A PROVERBIAL COOKIE BECAUSE WOW, WHAT A CHAMP <3

[byzantyne]

beautiful world

8059 as dads (super gokudera-centric tho SORRY) beautiful world, one step closer to immortality.

Yamamoto hears a suspicious crying sound from the next room, and he's pretty sure it's not a baby.

(Or if it is, a very large, twenty-six-year-old one.)

He knocks on the door cautiously. "Hayato...?" he ventures, and when he gets no response, he pushes the door open.

Sure enough, Gokudera is inside, hyperventilating, trying to soothe the wailing baby with desperate pleas while simultaneously wiping her butt with a damp Bounty towel. He doesn't even notice Yamamoto come through the door.

"Hayato..." 

He puts a hand on Gokudera's shoulder, which makes the man jump.

"Takeshi." He frowns. "Don't scare me like that, I could've dropped her."

Yamamoto laughs. "Sure, sure. How're things going? Trouble in paradise?"

Gokudera scowls immediately, a sign Yamamoto's come to learn over the years to mean, not funny, asshole. "She peed on me." He nods to the crisp white shirt tossed over the side of the crib, marked with a suspicious yellow stain. "Five hundred fucking dollar Brooks Brothers." Sighs, shaking his head. "I'm a fucking failure at this already."

"Relax," Yamamoto says, rubbing his back, "it's only been a day. And Bianchi'll only be away for a couple of weeks. We'll be back to our quiet, bachelor lives in no time."

"I guess." He lets out another exhale, and the towel drops from his fingers. "We've talked about kids before, Takeshi."

Yamamoto blinks at him. "We have."

"But I think this just goes to show that I'd be a terrible parent."

"Is that what you're worried about?" He smiles and kisses Gokudera on the temple. "Don't worry. No one's a perfect mother on their first day."

The comment earns him an elbow to the stomach. "Fuck off."

"Hey hey. No bad language in front of the kid."

-

But Bianchi doesn't come back.

Gokudera is rocking the child in his arms by the window, angrily punching redial into his phone over, and over, and over.

It doesn't stop raining that day.

-

The Tenth is in his kitchen sipping tea, and Yamamoto is changing the baby's diapers because he's better at it. Gokudera sighs, leaning against the island, and kneads his forehead with his fingers.

"Still no word from Bianchi?" Tsuna asks.

"No." He grimaces. "What did I expect, really...in our profession, it's a fucking blessing to be killed rather than captured."

"Don't give up hope, Hayato." His boss gives him a reassuring smile. "Your sister is terrifying for good reason. And they haven't found a body yet."

He shakes his head and scratches his arm. "I know, dammit. And that's what bothers me." An index finger absently scratches a patch on his arm. Tsuna blinks several times.

"Hayato, are those...?"

"Nicotine patches." He glances at Tsuna's surprised expression. "What? I gave up smoking for the kid. Don't give me that look, you'd do the same for Nanako."

He smiles. "You're right, I would. What's Bianchi's daughter named again?"

"Arianna. After our grandmother."

"Well. Arianna is a very lucky little girl, then."

-

Reborn stops by one day during one of Arianna and Nanako's playdates. They are playing airplanes and trains with their amused fathers, and Gokudera watches them from the couch, turning over the Vongola ring in his hands.

"I thought you'd want to play with them as well," the hitman says. Twelve years old and he still has the uncanny ability to sneak up on people as if he were half the size.

Luckily, Gokudera has been, over the years, rendered immune to such abrupt introduction, and he doesn't even turn to look at Reborn. "What makes you say that?"

Reborn grins. "I remember you were very proud of your number one ranking about being good with kids when Nanako was born."

He scoffs. "Takeshi likes the make believe games. Brings out his domestic side, I think. Me, I don't have mothering instinct if it came delivered to me with step-by-step instructions."

"Is that so."

They're silent for a while, until Reborn remarks quietly, "She has Bianchi's eyes," before walking away.

-

The daycare center ladies learn very quickly: when it comes to Arianna's fathers, the friendly Japanese man is always polite and sticks around to chat with the other parents. He always picks his daughter up, kisses her on the forehead, and asks about her day, even though she can only manage simple words and cooing at best.

The other father is a rude, silver-haired foreigner who often declines speaking to anyone, is brusque with the daycare workers, and never smiles. But when he sees Arianna, he always drops to a squat, watching her crawl to him with gentle eyes. He always brushes her hair back with a finger, murmurs, "how ya doin', kiddo," and sweeps her up in his arms like she were a bag of broken china. And when he carries her out to the car, the day care ladies can agree: it seems like he has eyes for no one else in the world.

-

They fall asleep in bed, the three of them, Arianna wrapped up safely in Gokudera's arms, and Yamamoto's around Gokudera, and for the first time in his life, Gokudera simultaneously feels paradise and fears death.

Yamamoto chuckles and rakes fingers through grey hair. "You're holding her too tightly," he murmurs softly.

"She's not complaining," Gokudera grumbles back. Pauses, opens his eyes. "Every time I hold her, I'm...afraid. Deathly afraid. Like if I let go, she'd disappear forever."

"What's this? Have you fallen for someone else? I'm hurt, Hayato."

"Like hell you are." He elbows the man lightly in the gut, which elicits a small laugh. "Do you remember your parents holding you like this?"

"Yeah," Yamamoto says, reminiscent. "All the time." He kisses Gokudera's forehead. "Don't worry, silly. She's not going anywhere any time soon. Neither are we."

-

Instead of lullabies, they would tuck her into bed with stories about their famiglia. Gokudera could get Arianna to laugh at a few about Uncle Ryohei, and Yamamoto could always get excited squeals whenever he told the story of how her two fathers met, but the stories she loved best, the ones she couldn't stop asking for, were of her mother.

(Gokudera smiles. Funny, he muses, he was the same.)

-

Arianna is five when she first gets into trouble at school. (Frankly, with her upbringing, Yamamoto is surprised it didn't happen any earlier.) He's certain not to tell Gokudera about this -- firstly, because he didn't want there to be an accidental bombing incident in the principal's office, and secondly, because he knew Gokudera would be terrible at disciplining his kid.

Though, to be fair, Yamamoto isn't so great at it, either.

-

It's -- seven years --

-

something something Bianchi comes back

-

Bianchi smiles sadly at him. "I was going to be a wonderful mother, Hayato. The kind my mother never was to me. The kind...yours never got to be."

Gokudera chews on his lower lip. "Well, it's not too late to fucking try." He shrugs, kicking the ground. "We're her dads, you're her mom. Who gives a fuck about conventional families. All kids need are people who love them."

"Oh, Hayato," she's gathering him up in her arms and he doesn't even fight it, "oh, Hayato, how you've grown so much over the years, and how I love you so much."