#these guys are rattling around in my brain rent free | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlemisslol-fic · 4 years

Link

Summary: Twelve years ago, the Kingdom of Corona fell after the demon Zhan Tiri infected the minds of its people. The only survivor was Princess Rapunzel..

.Or so they thought.

An amnesiac orphan named Varian, struck by the need to branch out on his own, follows a mysterious necklace towards what he knows must be his missing family. On the way he scoops up three companions: a young ex-noble named Nuru, a fiery boy called Yong, and, to top it off, a handsome rogue named Hugo. Together they travel for Vardaros, unaware of the demons dogging Varian's heels.

Zhan Tiri, after all, isn't finished with her revenge.

Notes: Hey all! Gunna preface by saying that is is a present for my beautiful friend jjgg_art for her birthday! Hope it was a good one, babe ❤️❤️This is her Anastasia AU, written out! She drew art for it a while ago and it lived rent-free in my brain, so here it is!

(Be warned though, she’s LONG)

They say that good things were never meant to last.

The kingdom of Corona, in the peak of its life, was beautiful. It was the city of light, a towering monolith of white marble and shining gold. Its spires raised high into the always-blue skies, like white crests on perfect waves. It was a city of golden wonders, of joy and love and contentment unknown through the Seven before.

But it was never meant to go on forever.

Like gold eventually tarnishes, or limestone wears away with the pounding surf, Corona eventually fell. The royal family, led by King Frederic and his wife, Queen Arianna, had grown compliant. Weak. Beneath the shining veneer, Corona was beginning to crack.

And into the cracks, slipped the darkness.

It was said that Zhan Tiri herself had seen the prosperity of Corona, had seen the glittering spires and sunny skies, and had grown jealous of the city. In turn, she sent down an army led by her three disciples, to rage through the city without mercy. They targeted many, but above all the royal family had been the ones most as risk.

It happened on a cold winter’s night, one where the Coronian royals were hosting a Ball to celebrate the end of another year. The crown princess Rapunzel, only twelve at the time, had been the light of the party, dancing through the crowds with an ease that seemed almost natural. She weaved through the crowd, her brunette hair bobbing softly with the motions. The princess hummed to herself, scanning the crowd with a curious eye. The adults around her danced with perfect timing, even as she scooted past them in a flurry of purple fabric. Green eyes widened when she caught sight of a familiar head of black hair, nearly swallowed up by the crowds.

A small bag of velvet was in her hands. Her grip tightened on it, her smile widening as she beelined towards the other end of the ballroom. Her quarry was hiding near a large pillar of white marble, his blue eyes wide as he looked at all the people.

“Varden!” She cooed, startling the child in front of her. He couldn’t have been older than six, the boy still almost a toddler with how much baby fat was still in his cheeks. The boy caught sight of her, his baby face breaking out into a wide smile that scrunched his cheeks and eyes.

“Hi ‘Punzie!” He said, holding his arms out. Rapunzel smiled, hugging him tightly. When the split, the black haired boy looked around the ballroom with a nervous face. “Have you seen my daddy?” He asked, “I can’t find him…”

“I’m sure he’s around,” Rapunzel soothed, “Besides, I have something for you!”

The boy’s blue eyes went wide, his worry immediately forgotten. “For me?!” he gasped. Rapunzel nodded, handing him the velvet bag with a grin.

“I know you’re sad about my family and I going on that trip to Vardaros,” she said, trying to ignore how his little face fell at the reminder, “So, I thought this might help with the wait!”

He opened the gift with small hands, looking curiously as a small box fell out as he tipped the bag into his waiting palm. Rapunzel took his hand, holding up a small pendant in the shape of the Corona Sun.

“See, watch,” She cooed to him, inserting the small key into a slot on the side. She turned it with three gentle movements, watching the boy’s face as it lit up with delight. As Rapunzel removed the pendant from the music box it opened, playing a little tune. Varden gasped as a little automation within began to move, slowly miming out fighting invisible enemies. Rapunzel smiled as he watched the little dance, holding the music box close. She hummed along to the tune the music box played, slowly coaxing him into singing along with her.

“Soon you'll be, home with me,” She sang to the tune. Varden’s voice floating along with hers, “Once upon a December,”

“Wow, Punzie!” He said softly, “It’s our lullaby!”

She smiled as the box finished its song, the little lid closing tightly. She passed him the necklace, smiling as he put it on “Exactly,” she said, hugging him tightly as he leaned into her side. “So you’ll never forget how much I love you, even when we’re apart.”

The boy’s face split into a massive grin, small hands hugging the box close. “Thank you!” He chirped, “Thank you so much!”

Rapunzel went to say something else, but was cut off by a sudden, loud scream. Both her and Varden startled at the loud noise, turning towards the door. Both of them gasped at the sight of the doors slamming open, the hallways beyond consumed in flames. People from the town swarmed inside, holding weapons high as they flooded the ballroom. The guests screamed, backing away as the mob attacked, quickly overwhelming anyone in their way.

Rapunzel shrieked, covering Varden’s eyes at the first sign of blood.

Things happened quickly after that, the princess running from the room with her little brother in tow as chaos broke. Varden yelped as he was pulled along, barely keeping up on his short legs. Rapunzel did her best to weave around panicking people, ducking in between legs as people scattered. The fire quickly burned through the halls, filling them with smoke.

Rapunzel coughed into her free hand, still tugging her brother along. Varden followed without complaint, the boy gripping her hand tight. They both stopped when there was a loud gunshot from nearby, followed by a loud scream from up ahead. Rapunzel skid to a stop, Varden nearly tumbling into her as she frantically searched for a way out. The noise behind them grew louder and louder, angry shouting and screams filling the halls behind them. She frantically looked back and forth, unable to decide which way would be better- the smoke was getting thick, a cloying, irritating thing. She could feel the panic creeping in, moving higher in her throat. She didn’t know what to do.

“Over here!” A voice called, cutting through the shouting.

Rapunzel spun on her heel, coming face to face with a young boy, maybe about Varden’s age, peeking out of one of the servant’s hidden entrances in the wall. She gasped in relief as he waved them forwards, disappearing into the wall. She followed, panting for breath as the boy closed the hidden door, sealing them away.

“C’mon,” the blond boy said, urging them forwards, into the darkness of the secret hallways. “They’re attacking the royalty, you guys have to go!”

Rapunzel tugged her brother behind her, following the servant boy through the labyrinth within the palace. Her heart raced, the princess cringing as she heard screaming and sobbing coming from the other side of the walls. Smoke still filled the air, though less so. Varden sobbed behind her, sniffling as he followed her with his hand in hers. The music box was between the two of them, held in both their hands.

Eventually the servant boy led them to an exit to the courtyard, where Rapunzel could see a hot air balloon waiting. Her Aunt Willow was already there, sneaking around. The blond boy waved them away, closing the door behind them once they left the safety of the walls. Rapunzel cringed at the cold, but rushed forward, tugging her brother behind her.

“Aunt Willow!” She cried. The woman turned, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of them.

“Children!” The brunette woman cried, “Come on, quickly!”

Rapunzel ran, reaching the basket and jumping in. Varden tried to follow, but he was too short to easily jump the basket. Rapunzel reached for him, tossing the music box into the basket so she could use both hands, but the princess screamed as a loud bang rattled the courtyard. The balloon shuddered, suddenly lifting off.

“Wait!” Rapunzel screamed, “Wait, he’s not in yet!”

Willow was scrambling, trying to catch their cut lines. Rapunzel tried fruitlessly to tug her brother up into the basket, shouting at the exertion. She saw a flash of fuchsia light, the princess gasping as her brother was tugged from her arms, as if grabbed by a force. The boy screamed as he fell, plummeting down to the cobblestone meters below. He vanished into the smoke, going deathly silent. Rapunzel wailed, unable to tear her eyes away from where he’d disappeared.

“NO!” She screamed, tears overflowing. The balloon continued to rise, pulling away from the castle properly until they’d left it behind. Rapunzel felt herself be pulled into a hug by Willow, the woman trying to comfort her between her own sobs. The boy was not the only casualty that night, but his was the one that would haunt her. Rapunzel shuddered.

She held onto the music box in a clawed grip, her tears falling soundlessly onto the porcelain.

>>>><<<<

Twelve Years Later

The cold hit Varian like a slap the second he opened the door.

With a shudder he pulled his too-large coat closer, trying to sink into the thick layers he’d wrapped himself in. The cold of winter was never easy, but apparently the last decade had been near brutal with the freezing temperatures.

Varian sighed as he felt a tug at his scarf, the thin fabric nearly choking him as the head of the orphanage yanked on it. He followed the cranky old woman out of the building, his feet quickly sinking into the thick snow.

“Now, I’ve gotten you a place at a fish cannery, near the port.” Old Lady Crowley was grumbling. Varian went quietly as he was pulled along by the scarf, the other end caught in her iron grip. She kept pulling, guiding the teenager towards the large, wrought iron gate at the side of the property. “You’ll take the left path, do you understand me?”

“Of course I understand, Ol- Miss Crowley.” Varian said with a roll of his eyes. “Left at the fork, straight until the cannery.” His hand slowly found itself up near the center of his chest, fiddling with a small pendant hanging around his neck. He smiled slightly, unable to help himself as he joked: “I’m an amnesiac, not stupid.”

“Same thing.” The woman grumbled, unlocking the gate. “And stop fiddling with that stupid thing, it’s just a cheap trinket.”

Varian pouted at her. “Even if it is, it’s all I have-”

“From before you arrived here, you’ve told from here to the capital about it.”

The gate opened with a creak, loud and squealing. Varian flinched at the noise, but straightened when the woman turned to shoo him along.

“Go on, boy,” Crowley snapped, “You’re going to be late!”

Varian smiled politely, trying to ignore how she muttered idiot child as he walked past her. The second he was outside the gate, Crowley slammed it shut with a loud bang. Varian spun on his heel, seeing her already leaving towards the orphanage without another word.

“Goodbye, then,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “See you around, I guess.”

Varian started forward down the street, grumbling to himself. The snow was thicker outside the orphanage property, coating the ground by nearly two feet. He grunted as he slowly kicked his way through the thick snow, a hand reaching up to grab at his necklace. The metal of the pendant was cold to the touch, a small sun with strange little teeth circling the outside. Varian chanced a look down to it, and saw the little words Together in Vardaros lovingly engraved on the center circle. A soft smile took over his face as the gold glinted in the sun, reflecting brightly.

“I’ll find you,” he murmured, barely even thinking about what he was saying. “I swear it.”

When he chanced a look up, he found he was already at the fork in the path. A sign stood tall, pointing in two directions. To the capital, on the right, or to the port, on the left.

“Left at the fork.” Varian whispered. “And then straight on until I hit the cannery, but… hm.”

His fingers continued to fiddle with his pendant, blue eyes staring up at the sign in thought. He had enough funds for a train ticket, he knew he did- he’d been saving for months just in case. Varian should go left, he knew- should follow Crowley’s orders like a good little wage slave and sign his life away to a life of packing fish- but something in him screamed at the thought.

“Left to a stable, agonizing job,” he thought out loud, “Or right, to spending every coin I have on a hunch.”

On paper, they both sounded terrible.

Varian fiddled with his pendant again, biting at his lip. A brisk wind blew from behind, making him shudder. “Maybe I should wait for a sign.” He laughed to himself, kicking at the snow. A puff of it got close to the base of the sign. Varian startled as a plume of snow suddenly began to wiggle, a chittering noise coming from the lump.

The teenager laughed harder as a small, fluffy face popped up from inside the snowdrift. “A raccoon?” He asked himself, “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now, bud? It’s the middle of winter.”

The raccoon made another little noise, rolling out from under the sign. Varian bent down, reaching out a hand to pet the animal. The raccoon waddled up to him, briefly sniffing his fingers before pushing into the outstretched hand. Varian grinned as he scratched the raccoon behind his ears. The animal purred, content, before suddenly reaching one of his little hands forward and grabbing at Varian’s scarf.

“Hey!” The teenager cried as the raccoon began to run down the right path, the blue scarf tightly gripped in its teeth. “That’s mine, you little jerk!”

He stood up, stomping his foot. The ring-tailed thief chittered a laugh at him, still holding the scarf. The teenager huffed, crossing his arms.

“Will you give that back?” Varian demanded, “I’m waiting for my stupid…”

He cut himself off, blue eyes flicking from the raccoon to the sign in front of him, and back to the raccoon.

“…sign.” He breathed. His eyes went wide, looking up to focus on the path to the city. For a second the breath caught in his throat, something in him shocked.

“Am I crazy?” He asked the raccoon, who only cocked his little head. “Yeah. That’s what I thought too.” He sighed, rubbing at his arms with freezing hands. His gaze fell to the snow, a blanket of white covering his boots. “Together in Vardaros.” He murmured, gaze rising back to look towards the towering spires of what used to be Corona.

And just like that, he took the first step.

Once he got started, walking down the path was nearly easy. Soon enough he had left the farmland, the tall trees and rolling, snowy fields quickly replaced by dull, drab buildings and cracked cobblestone. Varian shuddered at the glares a few of the city folk shot him, tugging his coat closer around himself. The raccoon had managed to crawl up onto his shoulders at some point, offering himself as a scarf.

“Well… Ruddiger,” Varian said, testing out the name and deciding it stuck. “If you were a train station, where would you be?”

The critter only cooed, playing with the blue stripe in Varian’s hair. The boy laughed gently swatting at his new pet. “Thanks for the help, buddy.” He griped, wandering further into the desolate town. Ever since the royal family had fled, Varian knew, the capital city had been borderline barren. Travel outside the country was heavily restricted, the insurrectionist government of Saporians that had swept in during the power vacuum the royals left behind had made sure of that.

Varian flinched at a loud scream from a few streets over. He began to hustle, ducking into the train station without looking back. In the warmth of the building he sighed, finally able to relax a little. There were dozens of people in the large building, the bustle of them all making Varian’s head spin. His hand unconsciously went up to his necklace, twisting it with nerves.

There was a long lineup of people waiting for the single open toll window, Varian quietly took his place, unwilling to meet the eye of anyone around as a few of them glared at him. He nervously reached a hand up to pull at his hat, tugging it down over his hair. Something in him demanded he hide, burrowing deeper into his coat.

Eventually Varian reached the front of the line, quietly approaching the grumpy looking man behind the glass.

“Uh, hi!” He said, waving awkwardly. “One, um, one ticket for Vardaros, please?”

The man arched a brow at the sight of Ruddiger, but quickly turned back to Varian with a scowl. “Papers?” He grunted, holding out his hand.

“I- I’m sorry?” Varian asked, “What-”

“Your travel papers, boy.” The man grunted. “No papers, no ticket.” When Varian continued to fumble, the man lost patience and barked, “NEXT!”

Varian was quickly jostled out of the way, blinking in shock. Sure enough when he looked to a nearby sign, he could see the latest proclamation that in order to cross the border, he’d need government papers.

“Shit.” He hissed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

“Pst,” A voice cut through his curses, drawing Varian’s attention to an older woman. “You need papers?” She asked him. Varian nodded, tugging his coat closer as she waved him towards her.

“Go to Hugo,” she whispered, leaning close with a conspiratorial smile. “He lives in the old palace. If you need papers, he can acquire them. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Oh!” Varian quickly nodded, backing away as she shooed him off. “Okay, thank you!”

“You didn’t hear it from me!” The woman repeated, disappearing into the crowd. Varian watched her go, biting on the inside of his lip. For a second more he stared, nervously, in the middle of the train station. Ruddiger chittered, pulling on his hair, snapping Varian from his daze.

“Alright,” Varian shook his head, moving for the door. If he needed papers, he’d get those papers. He opened the door, stepping back onto the street. The cold was bitter, angry and painful against his warmed skin. Varian shuddered at the temperature change, but still twisted on his heel so he could look up to the crumbling ruins of the castle. He felt a smile creep across his face, the teenager starting off towards the decrepit building. As he walked, he couldn’t help but reflect on what the woman had told him. He muttered to himself as he moved, determination crossing every footstep. His voice was lost to the wind, but the words were still light in the early afternoon sun.

“Hugo, huh?”

>>>><<<<

If there was ever a time Hugo was regretting his career choices, it was probably now.

He looked in abject horror at the long list of applicants he, Nuru, and Yong had put together. Every. Single. One. Was crossed out.

“None of them worked out?” He groaned, looking to Nuru with beseeching eyes. She shook her head with frustration, her dark skin pulling around her eyes as she frowned.

“Not a one,” she sighed. “They either didn’t look like the lost lord, or didn’t act the part.” None of them were a good Varden, and it was driving Hugo up the wall.

“This plan isn’t going to work unless we can find a boy to play the part,” Hugo griped, rubbing at his face. “We’re screwed unless we figure it out. Nuru, if we can’t find a guy-”

“Then we can’t con a grieving woman out of her money, Hugo, I know,” Nuru snapped. Hugo sighed, rolling his eyes. Morals, bah.

“Don’t make it sound so terrible,” he replied, “If her majesty Princess Rapunzel is dumb enough to offer a reward for a kid who died twevle years ago, then it’s on her. We need out of the country she abandoned, that’s not our fault.”

Nuru groaned. They’d had this discussion countless times, each one ending the same way.

“I still don’t like it,” she whispered, “It’s a terrible thing to do.”

“I think Nuru’s right!” A third voice piped up. Nuru and Hugo snapped from their glaring match to look at Yong. Their third companion was sitting cross legged nearby, fiddling with what was definitely dynamite. Hugo scoffed, shaking his head.

“Don’t blow anything up,” he chided, before turning back to Nuru. “And if you both feel that way, then have fun starving to death in this shithole city! You don’t have to come along.”

That shut them up. Hugo sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Guys, listen," he said, “I know it’s a little… morally grey, but just think of the money! We get a boy to play the part of Varden, we take him to Vardaros, we get the coin, and we’re set for life. No more scrapping for food, no more fighting to survive, just cupcakes and caviar for the rest of our days!”

The abandoned castle around them groaned in the raging winds. Nuru shuddered against the cold, shaking slightly in the bitter air. Hugo crossed his arms, cocking his head. He knew he was right, and was certain she knew it as well. The younger girl finally scoffed, crossing her arms.

“I still don’t like it,” she muttered, looking away with a glare as Hugo smiled at her admission.

“And you can cry about it in a palace,” he shot back, “Instead of a dump like this.”

Nuru scoffed, but finally let it drop. Hugo looked back to the list, almost a hundred crossed out names staring back at him.

“Well, like I said, we’re screwed if we can’t find a boy to play our prince,” he griped. “I guess we’ll have to put out more applications.”

“I don’t know if there’s anyone left to apply,” Yong piped up from his place on the floor. “We’ve been at this for days.”

“There’s gotta be someone,” Hugo grunted, “I know it-”

He was cut off as a loud clatter rang through the abandoned halls of the old palace. All three of them tensed, looking towards the entrance to the grand ballroom, where the noise had come from. Unfortunately, the old castle had had more than one squatter over the years, and the three of them were only the most recent occupants.

“Shit,” Hugo said, “Must be looters again.”

“I can take care of it!” Yong cheered, holding his dynamite high. “I think I finally got the burn ratios right-”

“No.” Nuru interrupted, “No you will not be taking care of them.” Hugo snickered, until her amber eyes landed on him. “Hugo will be,” she said with a smirk.

“Wha-“ Hugo spluttered as Nuru’s smile went sharp, “Fine. But I don’t want to hear another room about bullshit morals for at least a week.”

“Fine,” Nuru grinned like she’d won something. Though she probably had, from the way Hugo ended up walking for the door. On the way he scooped up a crowbar, specifically used for that purpose and an old friend, at that point. He grumbled to himself as he shoved at the door, entering the ballroom on silent feet. He tried to ignore the eyes on his back as he walked past a portrait of the royal family, their unblinking gaze settling on his shoulders as he hustled into the ballroom properly.

It was a large space, towering and opulent even in ruin. Large windows lined both of the longer walls, bathing the room in the light of the setting sun. It bounced off the dusty floors, shining off tarnished gold and illuminating the cloth covered silhouettes of furniture long since left to time. Hugo hated being in the ballroom, it was always drafty and definitely haunted; the revolution had started here, he knew, and the large stains of long dried blood that marred the marble floors was enough to prove that.

He shuddered, moving further into the room. Over the calls of the freezing winds though broken windows he could hear shuffling footsteps, accompanied by…

“Is that humming?” He whispered to himself, already more confused than where he’d started.

Sure enough, drifting along in the quiet ballroom, was an unmistakably male voice humming along to a lullaby sort of tune. Green eyes scanned the ballroom, finally landing on a short, small figure standing across the room. Hugo scowled, marching forwards, but paused as the shorter teen skimmed his hand along a covered table.

“Soon, you’ll be,” the boy murmured to himself, “Home with me, once upon a December.” His thin fingers trailed across the table, his blue gaze a million miles away.

Hugo scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Hey!” He shouted, “You wanna scram? This party’s invite-only!”

The stranger startled, whirling around to look at Hugo with wide eyes. Hugo couldn’t help but appraise for a second- the guy was cute, even in the ill-fitting jacket and wrapped in fifty layers… and what was with the raccoon?- but with the big hood it was nearly impossible to see much of him. A pair of brass goggles, beaten but obviously well loved, were perched on his head.

“Sorry!” The black-haired teen said, “Sorry, sorry, I’m looking for uh- Hugo? I think that was his name…”

“Who’s asking?” Hugo barked. He set the crowbar down on the table, getting close enough that he could see the smattering of freckles on the stranger’s cheeks. He also noted, with a smug grin, that the other teenager was nearly a head shorter than him.

“My name’s Varian,” the intruder said. “I was told that a guy named Hugo lives here, and that he can help me with travel papers-”

“Ah- quiet!” Hugo hissed, “Do you want the guards knowing about all that?”

Varian perked up, grinning slyly. “So you are Hugo, then?”

“I- shit, yeah alright,” Hugo groaned, feeling a headache brewing. “I’m Hugo, but I can’t help you right now. I’m busy.”

Varian’s face fell, before sinking into a pout. “You don’t understand,” he said, “I have to get to Vardaros, it’s important!”

Hugo only shrugged, he didn’t have time for this, not with the search for someone to play their Varden. “Sorry, Sweetcheeks,” he bemoaned, smirking at the frustrated expression on Varian’s face at the nickname. “Got places to go, people to see.” He spun on his heel, walking back towards where he’d left Yong and Nuru.

“Wait!” Varian ran after him, the shorter boy skidding to a stop between Hugo and the painting of the ex-royals. “Wait- please, I just need the travel papers, and I’ll be out of your hair!”

His hood had fallen off in the scramble, hair wild as it escaped from under the hood. Hugo paused at the streak of blue cutting through the black like a slash of light through a midnight sky. His eyes moved from Varian’s frantic face and up to the painting behind him- specifically on the visage of the missing lord.

Oh.

Bingo.

“That’s too bad,” Hugo shrugged, reaching into his pocket. “Because I’m busy looking for the lost lord, and these-” he pulled a set of four tickets out with a flourish, “Are for his royal highness, myself, and my companions, so that we can take him to his sister in Vardaros.”

Varian’s eyes locked on the tickets. Hugo’s grin widened. Gotcha.

“Of course, we haven’t found him yet- say you look a lot like Lord Varden yourself, don’t you?”

Varian looked dumbstruck for a second. His hand was fiddling with a pendant around his neck, some weird circle looking thing, but Hugo could see the curiosity in his eyes. Now to lock it in.

“What makes you say that?” Varian asked.

The blond gestured towards the painting, stepping up beside Varian with a flourish. “Why, just look!” Hugo said. “You’re practically the spitting image. The hair, the eyes- I can practically see Lady Ulla’s nose!”

Varian let out a loud laugh, crossing his arms as he too turned and looked the painting in the eye. Now that Hugo could see Varian and Varden side by side, he really could see the similarities in the face, hell even the stripe in his hair. He’d be perfect.

“As if,” Varian scoffed. “I’m just… just some orphan. There’s nothing special about me, and I’m not some lost Lord.”

“Who says you can’t be?” Hugo argued, his grin only widening as Varian began to look more and more nervous. “What, don’t you remember?”

“I don’t," Varian muttered. “This is going to sound crazy; I was found when I was six, with no idea about who I was or where I came from. I was just wandering around the city by myself, the only thing I have left is this.”

He held up the pendant, the gold catching the light. “I mean, sure,” Varian kept going, focusing intently on his painted twin. “Every lost little boy wants to think he’s a prince, that’s a given. But there’s no way I am who you think I am.”

Hugo tapped at his chin, playing dumb. Time to give a little slack, he thought to himself, forcing his shoulders into a casual shrug.

“Well, if you’re sure,” he said, once again walking away. Varian stayed in front of the painting this time, almost unable to move away from the image of the lost lord. Hugo slowed his pace, not looking back but mentally counting down as he got further away.

Sure enough, a self-satisfied smirk crawled across his face as he heard hurried footsteps chasing after him.

“Hugo!” Varian’s voice echoed through the abandoned ballroom, “Hugo, wait!”

“Need something, Sweetcheeks?” Hugo asked as he turned around to face a nervous Varian.

“Maybe- okay, do you really think that I might be the lost lord?” Varian fidgeted with his pendant again, biting his lip. “Because, I don’t remember my family, but I know they’re in Vardaros, and you said that the princess is in Vardaros, right, so maybe… maybe it’s not a coincidence?”

Something smug settled in Hugo’s gut. The blond smiled, wrapping an arm around Varian’s shoulders. “I’m almost positive,” he assured the nervous boy. “In fact, think of it this way. Either you are Varden, in which case you find your family and all that garbage, or, if I’m wrong, you’re in the right place to start looking for them.”

Varian’s face lit up at that, his hand finally dropping the necklace in favour of spinning out of Hugo’s grip.

“I- okay!” He chirped, already outpacing Hugo. “Okay, yeah, let’s give it a try!”

The blond watched him go, the younger of them already moving up the stairs and towards where Yong and Nuru were. Hugo smiled, something sneaky and smug at Varian’s retreating back, already planning out exactly how he was going to spin this. He focused on his new cohort with barely contained glee, already imagining the piles of gold Varian would fetch them from the Princess.

It was because of that focus, that he completely missed a flash of bright fuchsia from up in the rafters of the old ballroom.

>>>><<<<

They said that evil never slept, but it had certainly been dormant for some time.

She wasn’t sure exactly why she had been drawn back to consciousness after almost two decades. It had been some time since she had destroyed the joy of the Coronan princess once and for all. Sure, the princess had survived, but the wake of blood and suffering was more than enough to sate the bloodlust that had tied Zhan Tiri to the human realm.

But now, she was awake again.

Zhan Tiri was not a stupid creature, despite what that fool Demanitus had thought. She knew that something had gone wrong with her revenge on Corona for her to be brought back from the dredges between time and space. Conscious again in the swirling void of her realm, Zhan Tiri spurred back to life. When she opened her eyes she saw two figures, her loyal servants, standing by and waiting, just as they had been all those years ago.

“Tromus,” she greeted, “Sugracha.”

“Mistress,” they responded, dull and monotonous.

“Something seems to be stirring, in Corona.” Zhan Tiri murmured, reaching forwards to the air in front of her. With a rip of her claw she tore a gaping wound in the universe, a fracture in space time that allowed her to see the results of her handiwork. A flicking purple portal stood in front of her, showing her glimpses of the human world.

In this one, she could see the Coronan princess, slouched on a lounging chair, despondent as always. She looked near tears, fiddling with a small music box that Zhan Tiri knew she was unable to open.

“The princess suffers,” Tromus purred, “As always.”

Sugracha snickered, content with the result. The image in the portal flickered, switching to the burnt-out shell of Corona Castle. “And Corona is in ruin.” She cooed.

Zhan Tiri clicked her tongue. The two of them snapped to attention. “We’re awake for a reason, my friends,” the demon murmured. “There’s something not right with our revenge.”

She searched again, the feeling drawing her towards the interior of the castle. She waved a claw once more, switching the image. It was two young men, one blond, one raven with a blue streak-

“Ah.” She cooed, “One of them managed to escape us, it seems.”

For all Zhan Tiri was calm on the outside, on the interior she could feel the rage brewing. How dare that boy escape her, ruin her perfect revenge? The demon grit her teeth, toying with a wisp of magic in the air.

“That won’t do.” Tromus’ accented voice drifted through the air. “We wanted all of them, save the princess.”

“The boy will have to be dealt with.” Sugracha agreed. “Wouldn’t want him causing problems.”

“Hm,” Zhan Tiri allowed a smile to split her face. In the portal, she could see the boy growing acquainted with a small group of other humans. He was the spitting image of his parents; it made the anger in her gnash its teeth like a starving beast. “It seems we have a little insect to squash.”

Her head tilted towards Tromus, ram’s horns slicing at the swirling cosmos around them. “Tromus,” she said. He snapped to attention, ever the loyal soldier.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Take care of the pest, would you?”

Tromus grinned, allowing himself the luxury of floating forwards in a showy bow, dipping at the waist.

“Of course, my lady.”

>>>><<<<

Varian watched the countryside slide by with fascinated eyes. The train was fast, speeding through the countryside at a breakneck pace. He’d never been on a train before, so the whole thing was novel enough to have kept his attention for the first few hours of the trip.

Their train car rumbled along the tracks, the hissing of steam and whistling of engines faint enough that it wasn’t distracting. Varian bounced slightly in his seat, looking away from the windows and towards his new companions with a smile.

Nuru and Yong sat across from him, the two of them taking up the bench. Nuru was quietly writing on a few sheets of loose-leaf paper, and a curious eye told Varian she was forging travel papers for them all in a crisp, blue ink. He winced at the legal implications, but still decided not to say anything.

The door to their left opened, sliding over on its track. Varian looked to see Hugo standing there, brushing his coat off.

“How are we looking, Nuru?” He asked, shuffling into the cabin. Yong refused to move his feet away, forcing Hugo to step over him. The blond grumbled, throwing himself down onto the seat next to Varian. The shorter boy let out an oomph, grunting as he was jostled.

“Hey-“ Varian griped, shoving at Hugo. “Watch out!”

“Oh, so sorry your highness,” Hugo muttered, “I’ll be sure to be more careful next time.”

Varian grumbled, shoving at Hugo with a grunt. The blond responded by sticking his tongue out, to which the other teenager did the same.

“Boys,” Nuru snapped. “I’m a little busy here, could we maybe act like adults while I work?”

Varian sighed, rolling his eyes and slouching back into the bench. The frozen scenery of Corona continued to pass them by, blue eyes watching curiously at the world beyond. Ruddiger purred from his place in Varian’s lap, stretching contentedly when Varian scratched between his ears. Varian fiddled aimlessly with his pendant, letting his mind wander and missing how Hugo and Nuru began to frantically whisper to one another.

Corona had once been beautiful, apparently, not that Varian could remember it. His fingers buried into Ruddiger’s fur, scratching away as the expanse of white sped on by. For a second he could have sworn he saw a flash of green light from nearby, moving around near the wheels below. Varian sat up straighter, trying to focus on it. What had-

He was distracted as Hugo stood again, grabbing his bags from the overhead. Nuru was doing the same, as was Yong. Thoughts of the green light fled, especially when he saw how worried the others looked.

“Are we moving?” Varian asked, arching a brow when Hugo nearly dropped his suitcase.

“Yep,” Hugo replied. There was something stressed about his tone, but Varian didn’t bother to question it. Instead he stood as well, scooping up his meager shoulder bag and following the other tree as they left the cart.

“Red,” Nuru muttered bitterly, “Why would they change to red, they’ve been blue forever-”

Ah.

Varian groaned, watching her crumple up the half-finished forgeries in clenching hands. “Oh,” he said, “Is that why we’re moving.”

Hugo scowled, tugging Yong along gently when the younger boy wasn’t moving fast enough. “It might be, Sweetcheeks,” he said, “We’ve got a plan, though.”

Varian only scoffed, cocking a hip. “I gotta say, if I am royalty, then you’re not exactly giving me a lot of confidence here-”

“Guys!” Yong whispered, holding a door open in front of them. “C’mon!”

Hugo quietly pushed Varian ahead. The shorter of them went quietly, stepping into the cold of the new train car. They were close to the engine now, the noise of it loud in his ears and the rumbling much worse than it had been in the passenger cars. Around them were countless suitcases and bags, even the odd crate or two. Varian looked around apprehensively, clutching Ruddiger tightly.

“Is… this the baggage compartment?” He asked, biting at his lip. “Are you sure they won’t find us here?”

“Nope,” Hugo grinned, popping the p. “But it’s the best we’ve got.”

“I thought you said you had this all planned out,” Varian grumbled. His hand nervously went to his pendant, twiddling it between his fingers as he tried to stave off the cold. Hugo looked ready to smack him, but Yong distracted them both before anything else could brew.

“Uh, guys?” He smushed his face against one of the windows of the compartment, looking towards the engine. “I think something’s not right.”

The train rumbled again, a lurching, unnatural thing that sent all of them toppling to the wooden floor. Varian cried out as his elbow hit the floor first, a shock of pain running up the whole limb. Ruddiger hissed when Varian dropped him, but the boy didn’t have time to apologize before there was another loud bang, and his guts swooped out from under him as the train suddenly picked up a large amount of speed.

“What the hell is going on?!” Hugo barked, stumbling to his feet. “Have they lost their goddamn minds?!”

Nuru, standing as well, stared out the small window in the door they’d just entered from, her eyes wide and her skin nearly ashy from lack of blood. She turned to face the boys, and in a flat tone said: “We’ve lost the passenger cars.”

“What?!” All three of the boys cried at once.

Nuru didn’t reply, simply opening the door wide. Varian felt his heart sink at the sight of the Coronan wilderness beyond, the rest of the train having come free and was steadily being left a fair way down the track behind them.

“Well, that can’t be good.” Hugo muttered, already going for the engine car instead. “We’ve got to see if we can stop this thing!”

Varian was on his feet in an instant, following the blond as they reached the forward end of their car. Hugo ripped the door open, the wind rushing into the baggage car, screaming as it whipped past them. Varian trembled in the sudden cold, clinging tight as he forced his eyes open and stared at the engine. It was glowing a bright, noxious green. He felt his heart sink, watching as Hugo jumped the gap between the two cars. The blond moved to the engine, trying to find a way to stop themselves.

“How’s it look?” Varian called over the wind, grimacing when Hugo spun around with a worried face.

“Not-so-great!” The green-eyed man replied, hopping back over to the luggage cart. “It’s all ruined, there’s no way to stop it.”

“Shit,” Varian gasped. He looked up ahead of them, into the far distance, where the silhouette of a crumbling bridge could be seen.

A broken bridge.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Varian breathed, reaching out blindly to pat at Hugo’s shoulder. Once he had the blond’s attention he wordlessly pointed to the shattered remains of the bridge, feeling his face drain of blood.

“Hm,” Hugo grunted. “I can see that developing into a problem.”

Varian nodded, lost in the shock as he refused to look away from the steadily approaching drop. Hugo dropped to his knees next to Varian, starting to tug at the connection keeping their car attached to the engine.

“Goggles!” He barked, “Try and find me something I can use to wedge us apart!”

Varian stuttered to life, turning back into the car with haste. Nuru and Yong were both scattered about, trying to find a way to slow them down. Nuru was throwing a series of weighted chains from the back door, the ends of them snagging on the tracks but not enough to slow down the car. Yong was working on something, a stick of what looked like dynamite held tight in his hands.

Varian inhaled a quick breath, holding out a hand to Yong. “Can I borrow that?” He asked, his voice oddly calm despite the panic climbing higher in his throat.

Yong looked up to Varian, then down to the dynamite in his hand. The younger boy looked confused for a second, but still handed it over. “Sure, I guess,” he chirped. “Just be careful!”

Varian grinned, rushing back to where Hugo was still bashing at the connection with what looked like a screwdriver.

“I hope you-“ bang, bang, “Found us a hammer, or a crowbar would be better, because this thing doesn’t want to move-“ bang, bang.

Varian merely leaned over him, holding the dynamite in front of his glasses.

“Oh,” Hugo said, going slightly cross-eyed as he focused on the explosive. “Yeah, that’ll do.”

Varian smiled, stepping back as Hugo got to work. He rushed back to Yong and Nuru, waving at them.

“Hold on to something!” He shouted, ducking behind a crate and pressing his back against it. He caught sight of Nuru grabbing Yong by the hand and dragging him behind another crate before his vision was taken up by green fabric. Hugo slammed into the crate next to Varian, breathing heavily from running to the back of the car, and pressing hard against the wood.

“Brace!” The taller boy shouted, slamming his hands over his ears. Varian copied him, only just in time before the whole car rattled with a sharp force. He felt a small pain as he bit his own tongue, his body rattling down to the bone with the force of it.

Varian tasted copper.

But as quickly as it started, the shaking ended. Varian cracked his eye open and let himself breathe at the sight of slowing trees. He peeked around the crate, eyes widening when he saw the front half of their car totally destroyed, small fires racing up the sides of it. In the far distance, he could see the engine car speeding towards the bridge, getting dangerously close.

Their car trundled to a stop at last, unable to keep up momentum without the engine car to pull it. Varian saw the engine car hit the bridge in the far distance, before finally shooting off the broken track and into the gorge below. Hugo stood next to him, the two of them watching the massive engine go plummeting over the side only a half-mile away. There was a second of terrible silence, before another explosion rocked the earth, a plume of black smoke starting to rise from the gorge.

Varian stumbled back, only to be settled by a hand on his upper arm. He leaned into Hugo’s touch, watching the smoke rise in the distance.

“Well.” Blue eyes focused on the smoke as Varian crossed his arms. “That was fun.”

Hugo’s hand didn’t move off his arm, but Varian didn’t shove it away.

“What did they teach you in your orphanage?” Hugo finally asked, “Because whatever it was, it’s very different from mine.”

And with that, the moment snapped in half.

Varian scoffed, shoving at Hugo’s hand and spinning on his heel. He walked back into the car, already moving to help Nuru up off the floor. “A thank you wouldn’t hurt!” He called, unaware of how Hugo’s eyes followed him as he left.

And, oddly enough, unaware of the blush that scattered across Hugo’s cheeks.

>>>><<<<

“If you’re going to convince them to meet with you, you’ll need some formal training.” Nuru said, tapping at her chin.

Varian looked up from the book he’d been reading, an eyebrow arched. “I don’t know,” he said with apprehension, “I don’t think I have the disposition for the royal way of doing things.” He snorted at the thought, turning back to his book, only to have it gently taken from his hands.

“Hey-”

Nuru didn’t seem phased, shutting the book with a snap. “If you have no training, they won’t even let you meet with the prince-consort, let alone agree to see the princess.” Her smile was sharp, obviously delighting in being the one in charge. Varian paused, mulling it over.

“I… I guess that’s fair.” He said, biting at his lip. One of his hands went again to the pendant, tugging at the chain. “But I don’t even know where to start.”

Nuru’s grin got wider, her arms going behind her back.

“Welcome to royalty boot camp,” she said, “I’ll be your guide.”

Varian laughed, allowing her to take his hand. She pulled him to his feet, settling her hands on her hips as she appraised him. Seeming to find what she was looking for, her face split into a warm grin.

“Now,” she began, “You were born in a palace by the sea…”

The next few days were a whirlwind of rules- Varian felt his head spin with every new piece of information, each new rule, but he did his best to keep everything straight.

Back straight, head up-

When addressing a count you will call them-

Your sixth great-uncle was named Ivan-

It was a flurry of names and history, but it never was too much. Somehow it felt less like learning something new and more like re-building a puzzle- like the pieces had always been there, but only now the image was starting to come through. Varian tried not to dwell on it, grateful for the fact that the information at least was easy to learn.

The trip was tiring, but worth it as they slowly hiked their way towards the coast. Hugo had told him that they’d reach the coast in the next day, and then it would be a simple boat ride to reach Vardaros. Varian could feel the excitement settle in his bones, the promise of finally reaching the place he’d been aiming for after all these years.

And, to be honest all the trivia was kind of fun, too

“And remember to mention that your second cousin, Elbert, would invite you and your father to his estate for a few weeks every summer.” Nuru told him as they all sat upon a large carriage. It trundled down a dirt path, slowly but surely getting closer to their destination. The costal city around them was buzzing with people, the air warm and smelling of salt.

“Oh, yeah.” Varian said, tapping at his chin. “Didn’t he have an orange cat? I think it was really fat, right?”

Nuru paused, glancing at Hugo. The blond looked stricken, blinking. Nuru shrugged, and then turned back to Varian.

“That’s right,” she chirped, before leaning over to Hugo. “Did you teach him that?” She whispered, “Because I didn’t.”

“I thought you did,” Hugo replied, the two of them staring at each other with a small shock. There was no way… right?

“Oh!” Varian’s voice cut through their confusion. “Guys, look, it’s the port!”

Sure enough, their carriage had pulled into the port properly. It was busy out, as expected, but Varian couldn’t help but be excited as they stepped off the carriage and onto the cobblestones. Hugo tugged him along by the elbow, dragging Varian behind him as he walked further into the port.

“Where’s the boat?” Hugo asked Nuru, who only shrugged.

“I think it’s this way,” she replied, heading off into the crowd. Yong followed her, used to keeping himself from getting lost in big crowds. It seemed Varian didn’t have that skillset yet, as he was forced to keep close to Hugo so he wouldn’t get lost. The blond didn’t seem phased at the close contact, instead leisurely throwing an arm around Varian’s shoulders.

Eventually Nuru found the ship, a massive, metal steamboat made for forcing its way up the lakes and rivers leading to Vardaros. Varian had never seen such a huge boat, his eyes went wide at the sight of it. Hugo and the others seemed unphased, simply walking up the gangplank like they owned the place.

“Gotta pretend to belong,” Hugo had told him once, “Or else everyone will see you for exactly what you are.”

The ship gently rolled beneath his feet, the wood of the decking polished and clean despite being old. Varian leaned back a little, taking in the sun on his skin. Corona had been cold since the fall of the royal family, to feel the sun like this was a rarity these days. He leaned against the railing of the ship, letting the warmth sink deep-

“Ey, Sweetcheeks!”

Oh, Hugo.

Varian opened one eye, tilting his head to look as the blond approached. He had something tucked under his arm, tied together with string in a little bow. Hugo had a grin across his face, one that only widened when Varian opened his other eye and focused on him.

“I got you a little something the other day,” Hugo said, holding out the bundle. It looked like it was made of teal fabric, a jacket maybe? Varian blinked, holding out his hands wordlessly as Hugo shoved the present at him.

“I- thank you?” He said, the words coming out more as a question than something grateful. Hugo’s smile cracked into a smirk, worming across his face.

“Well,” he said, “You can’t exactly meet her majesty looking like the common rabble, can you?”

Varian laughed, holding the present closer to him. “Okay, moment’s ruined,” he snickered, “Thank you, Hugo.”

He tried to ignore how Hugo lit up at the praise, the faintest smattering of a blush crossing his pale skin. Varian felt his own face rush with red, and he quickly pushed himself off the railing and held the gift close.

“I’m going to go try it on,” he said, bolting for the cabins. He hoped that Hugo hadn’t seen him getting flustered, but as he changed, he couldn’t help but blush harder. Varian caught his reflection in the mirror, biting his lip at the sight of a teal vest, dark pants, and a billowing white shirt. He’d never owned anything so nice before, let alone something that looked so nice on… him. Varian turned away from the mirror, coughing to cover up how flustered he felt. He quickly left the cabin, returning to the deck.

He caught sight of Nuru and Yong, the two of them laughing as they spun together. There was a small quartet of men with instruments, other passengers Varian would assume, playing a jovial tune. He laughed as Nuru and Yong went spinning past him, jumping back to avoid their path. Varian clapped along to the beat of the music, watching the dancers with a large grin.

He felt a presence sidle up next to him, and looked over to see Hugo. The blond was avoiding his eye, leaning against the railing. Varian arched a brow, quickly putting the pieces together. His face split into a wry grin, grabbing one of Hugo’s hands.

“Dance with me!” He said, tugging Hugo along into the circle. Green eyes went wide, Hugo putting up a bit of a fight but nowhere near as much of one that Varian knew he could. Hugo eventually went along with it, placing his hands onto Varian’s waist and following as the other dancers spun in a circle. Varian smiled, tossing his arms around Hugo’s neck and letting himself be led.

The music slowed a little, the beat turning into more of a waltz. Hugo rolled his eyes, but Varian noted how his hands never left Varian’s waist.

“Okay, Sweetcheeks,” he said, “Just gotta make a box- yeah, see, you get it. We’ll make a dancer of you yet.”

Varian pouted, taking the chance to accidentally step on Hugo’s foot. The blond winced, his face squishing in mild pain. Varian snickered, biting at his lip as Hugo playfully glared back.

“Haha,” he griped, “You must think you’re very funny.”

Varian laughed, nodding. “I’m hilarious,” he said, “It’s not my fault you just can’t see it.”

They continued to bicker back and forth, slowly drawing closer until they were only inches apart. Neither noticed that the other dancers had stopped, and that the music had drifted away until it was only a single violin player left. Their world had narrowed down to each other, the quiet sass and laughter they shared.

Nuru, nearby, smiled knowingly as she gently pushed Yong downstairs, leaving them alone.

Boys, honestly.

>>>><<<<

Hugo woke up to the sound of Ruddiger clawing at something.

“C’mon,” he groaned, “Can’t you just wait until the morning, you stupid trash panda?”

He kept his eyes screwed tight, throwing an arm over them for good measure. He’d opted to take the floor for the night, leaving Nuru and Yong to split one bunk in their room and Varian to take the last bed, so his back was killing. Now, the stupid raccoon wanted to play, and he had just gotten to sleep-

Ruddiger kept pawing at the door, chattering up a storm. Hugo nearly snapped, quickly losing patience.

“What do you want, you little gremlin?!” He hissed, throwing his arm away from his face and sitting up dramatically to glare at the raccoon. Ruddiger didn’t even look at him, clawing at the wood of their door like he was trying to burrow through it. Rain pattered at the porthole window nearby, the occasional flash of lightning flickering through the room. Hugo grumbled at the sound of rolling thunder, but slowly woke up as Ruddiger continued to panic.

“Hey,” Hugo said, caution taking over at the sight of the frantic animal. “Hey, ringtail, what’s wrong?”

He rolled over a bit, quietly getting to his feet and shuddering at the cold on his toes. He looked around the dark cabin, trying to see if anything was out of place. Yong and Nuru were fast asleep, Yong curled up on his side and Nuru splayed out like a gangly starfish, and all the bags were still there so-

Wait.

“Where’s Varian?” Hugo hissed into the darkness. Green eyes focused on the empty bed next to him, widening when he also saw that Varian’s boots had been left behind.

The ship gave a sickening roll under him, the floor groaning under the force of the rushing waves. Hugo felt his guts swoop out from under him, but managed to keep his footing as he headed for the door. The second he opened it, the raccoon was bolting out into the hallway, long gone by the time Hugo himself got out of the room.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered, “It’s too early for this shit, I swear.”

He quickly walked down the hallways, looking for Varian. The longer it took to catch sight of him, the more stressed Hugo became. Soon enough the blond was sprinting down the length of the ship, calling for the shorter voice with something near panic. He’d searched the whole ship, all that was left was…

“The deck,” Hugo breathed in horror.

He bolted for the main door, stumbling up the stairs and onto the main deck of the large ship. The storm was only getting worse, the wind rushing around him and nearly sending him toppling onto the soaked deck. Hugo’s hair plastered itself to his head, the rain coated his glasses and made it impossible to see.

“Goggles?” He yelled over the pounding surf, “Varian?”

He scanned the deck again, squinting against the rain-

There.

Precariously close to the edge was Varian, drunkenly stumbling along the deck. Hugo was moving before he could even think of anything else, his bare feet slapping against the wooden planks.

“Varian, stop!” He screamed, rushing forwards.

Varian didn’t even flinch at the scream, instead opting to slowly lurch towards the guardrail. Hugo felt a sense of terror climb higher in his chest, even as he ran. If Varian pitched over the edge, he was surely done for, in a storm like this being in the open water was a death sentence. Varian kept walking, eventually clambering up a set of crates to perch himself on top of the guardrail, a hand holding onto a nearby line the only thing keeping him from toppling over the edge and into the raging water below.

Hugo screamed again, something wordless and nearly feral as he sprinted forward, reaching a hand out towards the other teenager. Varian swayed dangerously, his bare feet almost half off the railing, a thin hand lifting up into the air like he was reaching for someone.

Hugo panted as he drew close, his feet skidding as he tried to slow down before he hit Varian and sent them both over the edge. He slipped, landing hard on his side with a shout. Hugo scrambled up to his feet again, reaching out and grabbing Varian around the waist with both arms, pulling him off the railing and onto the boat properly. Varian fought him with sleepy, lazy throws of his limbs. Hugo noted with shock that his eyes were totally closed, had he really been sleepwalking?

“Lemme… let go!” Varian mumbled, struggling without any real force behind it. Hugo kept his grip easily, backing them off the edge and towards a safer area, the rain still coming down around them could easily send them off the edge if they weren’t careful.

“Sweetcheeks!” Hugo called again, shaking Varian gently, “You’ve gotta wake up, c’mon!”

Varian’s freckled cheeks shone from rain and tears, his face scrunched up in fear. Hugo shook him again, letting go of his waist to grab at his shoulders.

“Varian!” He shouted louder, getting closer to the shorter boy’s face.

Varian’s eyes snapped open, scaring the hell out of Hugo, the shorter boy gasping like he was coming up from underwater. He looked terrified, small hands coming up and smacking at Hugo’s chest with a little more force than he’d had before.

“What?” Varian gasped between breaths, “Where- Hugo?!”

“Oh, thank god.” Hugo gasped, allowing the panic in his chance to finally settle. Varian shook in his grip, violent tremors that took his whole body. The shorter boy looked close to tears. Varian suddenly fell forward, still on his feet but he was leaning his entire body into Hugo’s chest, hands that had been slapping at him gripping his sleepshirt tightly.

“Hugo.” Varian gasped into the blond’s chest, “I was so scared- I- I saw-”

Hugo paused, unsure of what to do, before slowly wrapping his arms around Varian and pulling him into a hug. “You’re okay,” he whispered into Varian’s hair, “It’s okay, it’s over now. You’re safe.”

“I’m not!” Small hands tightened their grip on Hugo’s sleep shirt. “I keep seeing faces- I’m not, I saw a demon, and she said she was going to… to…”

“It was a nightmare.” Hugo soothed. “It’s okay. Let’s get you below deck, out of the rain.”

Varian’s hands slowly let go, inching around so that he was hugging Hugo properly. The taller boy held him close, unwilling to let go. “You’re safe,” he murmured again, unsure if he was soothing Varian or himself. The rain continued to pelt them, washing away the fear with the feeling of Varian in his arms, warm and still breathing.

In the depth of the universe, the space between life and death, the demon Zhan Tiri snarled.

Sugracha had failed. It was time for her to deal with this herself.

>>>><<<<

Varian’s leg was bouncing.

He nervously tugged at his pendant, waiting with the others inside of a grand chateau. Upon arrival to Vardaros he’d been pulled along by Nuru to the richer part of the city, a sprawling neighborhood of mansions with perfectly trimmed hedges and beautifully painted trim.

Varian had never felt so out of place before.

They’d stopped at the home of a woman named Willow, an eccentric woman in her early forties, who was apparently the princess’s aunt. She was nice enough, having shouted upon seeing Nuru and wrapped the girl up in a tight hug. She’d brought them into her home, directed them to a sitting room. So now they were here.

And Varian’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

The room around them was lavish, large paintings and brushed gold. Varian felt under dressed, even in his new clothes. He was exhausted, having stayed awake with nerves the night before. They still refused to leave, the fear cloying as he tried to force it down like a bad pill. Hugo was sitting next to him, stoic and stable. Varian found himself twitching again, unable to stop himself from shaking-

Hugo’s hand slipped into his own.

“You’ve got this.” The blond whispered, “It’s okay.”

Varian nodded, taking a deep breath. He squeezed Hugo’s hand, grateful for the assurance. He managed to get a handle on the shaking, letting his leg finally settle. Nuru and Yong, sitting on a different couch nearby, let out a sigh of relief as he calmed.

“Who wants tea?” Willow called, entering the room with a tray in her hands. Varian caught sight of a teapot and cups, but felt sick. He was sure if he tried to eat or drink, he’d surely lose his nerves and his stomach.

Varian breathed deeply as Nuru took a teacup from Willow. She caught Hugo’s eye, nodding when he gestured with his chin to her.

“Miss Willow,” Nuru said softly, “I think we found him.”

Willow paused, stopping where she had been pouring tea. “I see,” she said. Her voice had dropped a few degrees. Varian tensed, only calming when Hugo squeezed his hand again. Willow’s eyes focused on Varian, appraising. She gestured for him to stand, her lips pursing.

“Well, you certainly look like little Varden,” she said. “The stripe is hard for some people to fake, though not impossible.”

“It’s not fake,” Varian mumbled. He tugged on the stripe self consciously, feeling uneasy under her glare. “I was born with it.”

Willow smiled, finishing pouring Yong’s tea.

“Alright then,” she said. “We’ll start easy. Where were you born?”

It went like that for hours, a series of questions that got more and more specific as the time dragged by. Varian answered each one as best he could, stumbling over his words and constantly tugging at his necklace. Willow wasn’t unkind, but she had the air of a woman who had seen too many fakes.

The sun was nearly low in the sky by the time Willow was done. Varian felt exhausted, wrung out and tired in a way that was bone deep. Willow had kept the tea flowing and the biscuits piled, but even Nuru and Yong were obviously worn out. They all slouched into their seats, blinking away the light from the setting sun. Hugo had held his hand the whole time.

“I just have one more question,” Willow finally said. Varian perked up at the thought of an end to the interrogation, sitting straighter.

Willow pursed her lips, eyes narrowing.

“How did you escape the raids?” She finally asked, settling back in her seat.

Hugo tensed. They hadn’t told him that-

“I…” Varian paused, biting at his lip. “There was… a door, I think? A little one, in a wall. A boy took us through it- but that’s stupid.” Varian cut himself off, shaking his head with a laugh. “Little doors, sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying,”

He didn’t even notice Hugo’s face go ghostly white next to him, too caught up in his own musing. Willow smiled, nodding.

“Well,” she finally said, “You answered all the questions correctly-” They all breathed a sigh of relief, “-but I’m afraid my niece isn’t seeing any more potential Vardens. She’s had her heart broken enough times.”

Varian’s heart sank, the anxiety creeping back in. “I- please!” He cried, “We’ve come all this way, please, she might be the only family I have-”

Willow sighed, rubbing at her temples. “I can’t take you to her,” the woman finally said, “But, I can say that she’ll be at the Vardaros Opera, tonight. If you were to drop by, I might be able to get you to her.”

Varian smiled wide, his eyes swimming with tears. “Thank you,” he said quietly, hoping he could impart even just a little of the gratefulness he felt in the words. From the way Willow smiled, it must have worked, as her own face split into a grin.

“If you are him,” she said, “It’s worth a try. Besides, now we have an excuse to go do something fun!”

“Something fun?” Yong’s voice piped up, muffled through a mouthful of biscuits. Willow smiled, cracking her knuckles. Varian tensed at the sly look on her face.

“Shopping.” She declared.

Oh, dear.

>>>><<<<

Hugo grit his teeth against the blowing wind, huddling deeper into his coat. The grand entrance to the opera was cold in the evening, large stone steps doing nothing but leeching the warmth from his body. He grumbled to himself, slouching in place as he sat on the stoop. He curled tighter, as if he could shove the bitter feelings down.

Hugo scowled, picking at the grout between the large stones. The feeling of misery had been settling in his gut ever since Willow had finished quizzing Varian, a festering, horrible thing. It was a dread that had taken him for the whole evening, the blond unable to enjoy the last of his time with Varian before-

Before he lost him.

Hugo scowled again, flicking a rock. Varian was the missing lord. A fact that had been festering in his mind for hours. He had been the boy who had saved the real Varden- he had saved Varian, when they were children- he’d been the boy in the wall. Varian was Varden, clear as day. He looked like the missing boy because he was.

The festering misery only grew worse, digging its claws deeper. Varian was royalty, was one of the heirs to a kingdom- and here was Hugo, with a stupid little infatuation with him. Even if he’d had a shot before- which he didn’t, not with Varian, who was good and kind and pure in a way that was too good for Hugo- he certainly didn’t now. Not with the status Varian finding his family would bring him. Not with a relation like the princess. Varian would surely have his pick of rich, handsome bachelors; Hugo didn’t have a snowflake’s chance in hell when compared to them.

So yes. Yes, he was bitter, but not against Varian. Never against Varian- Hugo wouldn’t blame Varian for passing him by once someone who would give him what he deserved came along. How could he? Varian deserved the best and brightest, so that was what he’d get.

And Hugo just wasn’t a contender.

He felt his face twist into a scowl, picking up a nearby stone to fiddle with. He’d had one last good day with Varian, one more day to watch him smile and laugh, to see him happy. It had been like heaven, seeing the sun shining off those baby blue eyes; Hugo had tried to bask his fill before he’d lose Varian for good. It hurt, knowing his time with Varian was being cut, that he wouldn’t ever be able to pursue the feelings that had burrowed in his chest-

“Hugo?”

The blond startled, his thoughts breaking off at the call of his name. He dropped the stone, twisting in his spot to see Varian, wrapped up in his oversized coat.

“Are you okay?” The younger boy asked, arching a brow. Hugo smiled, standing quickly. He brushed himself off, forcing his face into a smirk.

“Of course, Sweetcheeks,” he said. “What, worried about little ol’ me?”

Varian scoffed, but even Hugo could hear the fondness in it. “I just don’t want to be late.” He said, turning and walking towards the opera doors without looking back. Hugo followed without complaint, ditching his coat at one of the checks before trying to find Varian in the crowd again. He never did see what Varian had picked out to wear, he’d been too busy trying to keep Yong on task at the time, so Hugo had no idea what he was even looking for…

But oh, when he saw it.

Green eyes caught the flash of blue first, Varian’s blue streak popping out in the sea of black suits. He’d gotten rid of the ugly overcoat, leaving him in a well tailored, form fitting suit made of dark navy material. His shirt was a pressed white, with a blue tie that matched his eyes perfectly-

Hugo felt his heart thump.

Varian was looking around nervously, playing with the necklace he never took off. When he caught sight of Hugo, his face split into a large grin, waving awkwardly. Varian carefully picked his way through the crowd, awkwardly shuffling past people until he finally stood in front of Hugo with a small grin.

“I couldn’t find you,” he laughed, “I thought you'd gotten lost!”

Hugo was dumbstruck, unable to focus. His tongue felt weighted, his eyes drawn to Varian’s face and unable to look away. The shorter boy looked at him with an expectant face, waiting for him to reply- oh shit, he had to reply.

“You… you look really nice.” Hugo choked out, awkwardly stumbling over the words. Varian blinked, a small blush sparking across his face at the compliment.

“I-” he stuttered, “Thank you. You do too.”

It was a strange moment between them, something fragile but important, a tie in the space between that kept them both rooted to the spot. The buzz of the crowds filtered away, the world narrowing down to just them. Hugo knew that this was it- his last shot, the last chance he’d get to tell Varian how he felt, after this it was over. All it would take is for him to spit it out, to say I think I love you, to just try.

“I… we should get to our seats,” he said.

Varian smiled, allowing Hugo to lead him by the arm into the auditorium. Hugo swallowed the regret, the pain, and forced his face into a smile. Varian deserved the world, and the world was what he’d get.

The opera was boring. Hugo wasn’t usually one for musical theatre, so he mostly ended up watching as Varian nervously tore his playbill to shreds in his lap. Eventually he’d taken Varian by the hand, leaning over and whispering in his ear.

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured over the singing, “You’ll be fine.”

The way Varian smiled at him was more than enough for Hugo. He forced himself to commit it to memory, to save the feeling for later, once the ghosts were all he had left.

At intermission they made their way to the upper balconies, meeting Willow in the main hallway.

“You made it, good!” The woman said, clapping her hand. “Hugo, you go first. Introduce yourself, tell her you found him. She’s had a bad day today, you’ll need to be delicate.”

“Sure, delicate,” Hugo muttered, “I can do that.”

He slipped into the booth through a curtain, only just catching sight of Varian’s worried gaze as he did so. The booth was large, lavish and opulent. Hugo quietly marveled at the plush carpet under his shoes, the soundless way he moved through the space. Curtains hung from every wall, gold leaf and delicate paintings covered any surface not coated in a thick velvet.

And there, sitting on one of the large, wingback chairs, was the princess herself.

Rapunzel was radiant, her long, blonde hair spilling out behind her. Her purple dress was beautiful, a layered skirt and tight top accenting her form. Green eyes looked out numbly towards the crowd. When Hugo looked closely, he could see where thick makeup covered deep bruises caused by sleepless nights. Rapunzel, for all she was the essence of grace and beauty, had an air of sorrow around her that refused to leave.

Hugo stepped forwards, trying to be calm. For Varian.

“Your majesty,” he began.

Rapunzel turned to look at him, her gaze boring into him. Two pairs of green eyes locked onto each other, Rapunzel’s face scrunching up in confusion.

“Hello?” She said, obviously puzzled as to why he was here. “Can I help you?”

“You can,” he replied. Hugo inched closer, kneeling next to her chair. “I’ve travelled here from Corona, I have someone that I think you’d really want to meet. His name’s Varian-”

“Ah,” her face crumpled in obvious misery. “Another man chasing after the reward money, huh?”

“No!” Shit, he’d been afraid of this, “No, ma’am really, I think that I’ve really found him. I used to work at the palace, I was the serving boy that got the two of you out-”

Rapunzel’s eyes flashed in recognition, but her face remained sad. “Everyone who ever worked at the palace has put their Varden’s forward to me.” Her tone was bitter, exhausted. “And I’m done. I’m sorry, but I won’t be seeing anyone else about the reward. My brother is dead. I can’t keep trying to find him when he obviously has left us. Please, leave me to my mourning.”

Hugo stuttered, flinching when he felt hands on his shoulders. A security guard started to tug him backward, but he refused, shoving himself toward the princess.

“No, you have to listen!” He cried, grabbing her by the shoulders. Rapunzel seemed shocked, blinking at him, but he shook her gently. “You have to meet him, he remembers you, please, just give him a chance!”

Rapunzel’s face crumpled. “My brother is dead,” she snapped.

And that was the end of it.

Hugo was wrenched out of the booth by the security guard, the blond shouting as he was pulled away from the princess. In what felt like a split second he was thrown into the hallway, landing with an oomph on the carpet. He got his hands under him, pushing himself up to see a pair of black shoes.

He looked up, seeing Varian near tears. Hugo shoved himself off the floor, drawing close.

“It was all a lie, wasn’t it?” Varian asked, his tone dangerous. He sounded furious. He sounded devastated.

“No,” Hugo tried to touch his arms, but Varian pulled away, “No, no, it’s not like that, I swear-”

“I was just part of your con?” Varian’s whole body shrank into itself, the hurt in his voice clear. “Just a trick to get her money?”

“No,” Hugo repeated, desperately trying to get his point across, “No- okay it might have started that way, but it’s different now!”

Varian turned away, the shock clear on his face as he started to leave. Hugo rushed in front of him, cutting his access to the stairs off. “You are Varden,” Hugo gasped, flinching when Varian’s eyes went cold.

“Will you stop it?” The shorter boy hissed, shoving at Hugo’s chest. “From the moment this whole thing began you were lying to me, and I was stupid enough to believe you!” He let out a groan of frustration, clenching his fists in the air. Varian’s tone had gone from pained to furious, the air around him dropping a good few degrees.

“Varian, please, just listen to me-”

“No!” Varian snapped, “I’m sick of listening to you! Can’t you just leave me alone?” He tried to shove past Hugo, going for the stairs, but the blond caught him by the arm. Varian paused, his face darkening in a scowl as he twisted around and-

SLAP.

People in the crowd gasped, watching as Varian yanked his arm out of Hugo’s grip. The blond paused, eyes wide as he brought a hand up to feel his stinging cheek. The shock was immense, nearly enough to quell the ache that had sprung from the hit, but not quite.

Varian disappeared down the stairs, vanishing into the stunned crowd. Hugo took a second to breathe, to pull his raging emotions back into check, to just panic, before launching himself into the crowd. He pushed past people roughly, uncaring as they whined at his lack of manners.

Varian, where’s Varian? His mind had narrowed down to one focus, one mission. He couldn’t the stripe of blue anywhere, the other boy having well and truly disappeared. Hugo ended up outside the opera, standing in the misty evening and looking around frantically for his missing friend. It was nearly abandoned outside, the streets quiet.

Hugo panted as he searched, the devastation slowly sinking into him. He’d screwed up, horribly. He had to make it right, had to apologize, had to-

Shit, what did he even do now?

Hugo’s breaths came faster, him having to force air into his aching lungs. Varian must hate him, must think he’s horrible. But Varian was Varden, was the missing lord, this was his chance to get Varian to his family. If Hugo failed now, it was over, for all of them.

He spun around, trying to catch sight of Varian, but still only saw empty cobblestone streets. A carriage was nearby, the driver waiting nearby as-

Rapunzel.

The princess was getting into her carriage, her face molded into a blank slate. Hugo paused, thinking hard- he could get executed for this… but Varian deserved to be with his family, regardless of if Hugo were a part of the picture.

With that thought in mind, he stalked forward, and got into the driver side of the carriage.

>>>><<<<

Varian scrubbed at his face roughly, chewing the inside of his cheek to stave off the tears.

He roughly chucked more of his things into his suitcase, uncaring as to how they fell. His vision swam with bitter tears, eyes burning against the salt.

Gods, he was so stupid, how could he ever think Hugo would ever be anything other than a dirty, lying cheat-

Varian slammed his suitcase shut. Ruddiger whined from his place on the bed, the raccoon obviously picking up on Varian’s sour mood. He sighed, reaching out a gentle hand for the animal. Ruddiger chittered, pressing into the touch. Varian blinked away the tears, only to scowl when new ones took their place.

“Sorry, bud,” he sniffed. “This was stupid of me to drag you all the way here. We’re going home.”

He heard the door creak behind him. Varian scowled, turning and expecting to see Hugo. He was surprised, then, when he saw a young woman standing in the room with him. She was beautiful, but her face was horribly sad. Her blond hair was frazzled, her dress stained with mud, but her stance was still one of immense power.

“Y-your majesty,” Varian stuttered. Rapunzel only smiled, taking a seat on the bench of a nearby vanity.

“So you’re the next Varden, then?” She asked him. Her gaze was expectant, judging.

Tired.

“I… I just want to know who I am.” He replied. It was painful, to bare his soul to a woman who was effectively a stranger, but if this was his chance… he’d still take it. “I want to know if I belong to a family. Your family.”

Rapunzel paused smiling softly. “You’re a very good actor,” she said. “The best yet, in fact. But I think I’m ready to let my brother go.”

He took a seat next to her, slouching. He’d been hopeful, that much was true, but he couldn’t blame her heart for being broken one too many times. He took a steadying breath through his nose, but paused when he smelt something particular.

“Is that… paint?” He asked. “Or lavender?”

“Both,” Rapuzel shrugged. “It’s a special type I order from Pincoasta. Gets the colour just right-”

“I… didn’t I try to make you a bottle?” He asked, rubbing at his temples with a hand. His head was killing- “But I spilt the oil, on your mother’s favorite carpet. And it reeked of lavender from then on.”

The princess paused, sitting back down on the bench. “I- yes,” she said, her eyes wide. “Yes, that’s exactly what happened. How did you know that?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Varian stuttered. “I was found with no memories at about six years old. I get… I don’t know, flashes or whatever you’d like to call them. They’re always random, but it’ll be things like smells, tastes… or faces, that bring a memory up.”

The princess looked at him with that same calculating expression before her eyes trained down to the chain around his neck. “What’s that?” She asked quietly, gesturing to the necklace.

Varian looked down at it as well, a blush working across his face. “Oh,” he mumbled. “It was something I was found with. It was my clue for trying to come here.”

Rapunzel looked shell shocked, green eyes blown wide as he took the necklace off and handed it to her. “I… I got him a present,” she told Varian. “Before my parents and I were to go on a trip. So he’d remember me while we were gone.” Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of the pendant, a few trailing down her freckled cheeks. With a small movement she pulled out her bag, drawing out a small, porcelain box. Varian gasped at the sight of it, holding his hand out. She tipped it and the necklace into his palm, crying harder as he inspected it.

“The music box,” he mumbled, “I remember this. It was so I wouldn’t miss you as much, and it would sing me to sleep.”

He began to hum to himself as he slotted the pendant into the premade slot, gently turning the crank within. Rapunzel let out a wet gasp as she recognized the tune, the woman blinking away tears as the music box opened. The tiny automaton began its dance, the music trilling through the quiet room.

““Soon you'll be, home with me,” She sang to the tune. Varian’s voice floated along with hers, “Once upon a December.”

Rapunzel fully let out a sob, Varian following along as their eyes met. Without any more hesitation she lunged forward, wrapping him up in a hug. His hands found their way to her back, clinging tight.

“Varden,” she sobbed, “I thought you were dead-”

“It’s- heh, it’s Varian,” he giggled out through the tears. “And I didn’t even know I was lost.”

Rapunzel held him tighter, laughing into his hair.

Neither of them saw how, standing on the sidewalk down below, Hugo stood looking up at the window. He held himself high, an honest smile gracing his face. He brought his fingers up to his lips, gently kissing them before raising his hand in a palm up gesture towards the window. He paused for only a second more, coat in hand, before turning and leaving the mansion behind.

With this, he would have to be content.

>>>><<<<

Varian bit at his lip, reaching towards his neck. His hand touched air, and he felt a small sinking in his stomach when he realized that he’d left his necklace behind. He let his hand drop, instead picking at his fingers. He hid behind the curtain in front of him, staring out into the massive ballroom beyond, one even more grand than the ones in his recently unlocked memories. He bit at his lip, watching the elites mill about together. He felt out of place already, trussed up in a suit fancier than anything he’d even seen before; the nerves were going to eat him alive.

“Vard- Varian?” Rapunzel’s voice cut through the anxiety. Varian paused, looking to her with a forced smile. She laughed at his expression, reaching up to gently fix the circlet on his head. He was thankful she was willing to use his second name- after being Varian for so long, he didn’t really want to switch back.

“Rapunzel,” he greeted, letting his face fall a little. She kept her smile, cupping his cheek.

“Are you okay?” She asked him. She pushed his hair away from his face, cocking her head.

“I’m fine,” he lied. There was a pause as she stared him down, the boy quickly breaking. “I was just looking for someone.”

Rapunzel paused, turning away from him to look out to the party. “He’s not there,” she said sadly, “Though I wish he was. He’s a remarkable young man.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s fine,” Varian said, only a little sour, “He’s probably off spending his reward money as quickly as he can.”

Rapunzel sighed. She gestured towards the guests again, tilting her head. “This is the world we were born into,” she said, her hand waving gracefully. “You were born for riches, gold and diamonds, princes and lords. But is that really what you want?”

Varian backed away, letting the curtain fall shut. “Of course it is!” He tried to defend, refusing to meet Rapunzel’s eye. “Of course, I found what I was looking for, didn’t I? I found out who I was, I found you-”

“And you’ll always have me,” Rapunzel assured. “But is it enough?”

Varian paused, looking at her in confusion. She reached forwards, drawing him into a hug. He hugged her back without pause, unsure of where she was going with this.

“Varian,” she whispered to him. “Hugo didn’t take the money.”

“He… he didn’t?”

She shook her head with a smile. “You’ve grown so much since I saw you,” she grinned. “And I’m so proud of who you’ve become. But… you have to be sure you’re listening to your heart,” she pushed a hand to his chest, gentle, “And no matter where it takes you… know that we’ll always have each other.”

Varian stuttered, unsure. Rapunzel let him go, slowly going towards the party. She smiled at him one last time before vanishing between the curtains. Varian watched her go, biting his lip.

For a second he stood stalk still, unable to think- what did he really want? He could follow her, become a prince, live a life of luxury with the family he’d always tried to find… or he could return to the one he’d built. The family he’d stitched together with tape and glue, with Nuru and Yong…

And Hugo.

Varian took a step towards the curtain, but stopped himself. He bit at his lip, tapping his foot. He finally spun on his heel with a groan, headed for the door, when something caught his eye.

A bright fuchsia light glowed from the gardens beyond, wildly out of place against the cool glow of the moon. Varian watched as it flickered, moving around in the distance. He spared one last look to the ballroom before stepping away, walking into the garden beyond.

It was a warm evening, but he still felt a chill. Varian rubbed at his arms, shuddering. A thick mist permeated the garden, choking out the moonlight before it could really hit the stone path. The pink light was gone, leaving the garden pitched into a strange collage of shadows. Varian spun a bit, trying to find the source, when he heard a sudden voice on the wind.

Varian.

He tensed, looking further down the path towards where the voice was coming from. Another gust of wind made him shiver, rubbing at his arms again. He kept moving forwards, deeper into the garden despite the sense of apprehension and danger he was starting to feel.

Varian.

He kept walking, startling when he saw another flash of colour out of the corner of his eye.

“Hello?” He called into the darkness. Something about this was setting him on edge, something in the way the air froze in his lungs. He walked a little faster, eventually finding himself on a large bridge. Water rushed below, nearly deafening. Varian shuddered again, the air was even colder here with the water nearby. He scanned around for the owner of the voice, pausing when he saw a figure on the bridge.

“H-hello?” His voice was weak in the darkness, fear slowly creeping in. He should go back, back to the warmth and the light-

“Varian,” the voice, a female one, purred. Varian tensed, moving towards the figure as she spoke. “Your royal highness- a young duke in your own right, hm?”

Varian squinted, stopping on the bridge properly. The figure continued towards him, slowly taking a female shape. A large, puffy skirt danced around her ankles, long hair done up in two intricate buns. Varian caught sight of a shark’s smile splitting her face, eyes glowing fuchsia in the darkness.

“Look at what the years have done to us, hm?” The fog parted around the woman at last, showing her nearly skeletal face. Varian flinched at how familiar it was, his nightmares-

The woman smiled wider, holding her arms towards him. “You, a beautiful young thing… and me, a withered old corpse.”

Varian’s mind raced, his breath picking up. He needed to run, needed to go, but his feet felt glued to the ground. He shuddered as the woman got closer, her hands barely an inch away from his skin.

“Don’t you remember?” She asked him, “No? Hm, you were only a child, I suppose. It was a party, just like this one… though it certainly ended with a bang.”

She waved her hand, her fingers warping into claws. Varian screamed as there was a rush of heat; he threw his arms up in front of his face at the feeling of fire on his skin. He was knocked back onto the stones, landing hard without his hands to stop the fall. The fire suddenly stopped, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

He looked to the woman in shock, seeing what looked almost like a lantern in her hand. It was glowing that same pink, before settling down into a normal light. She smirked as he stared at her. Varian sucked in a breath through his teeth, everything falling into place- his nightmares had all whispered a name to him, one that had haunted him since he was a child…

“Zhan Tiri,” he breathed, nearly inaudible above the sound of rushing water below. Her smile grew, something smug and wicked. Varian forced himself into standing again, refusing to break eye contact as she stepped closer.

“Smart child,” she cooed to him. “I can see some of my Demanitus in you… it’s time I fix that.”

She waved the lantern again, forcing him to step back towards the railing of the bridge. Varian yelped as the stones shuddered under him, a wave of energy hitting him dead on. He felt tiny hands grabbing at him, trying to pull him towards the edge. He swatted without thinking, gasping when he saw small, demonic creatures swarming him. Varian cried out as one pulled at his hair, ripping it from its slicked back style and making it fall normally. He swiped at them again, panting as they disappeared into thin air. He didn’t need to look down to know his suit was ruined, his circlet gone; he leveled a glare at Zhan Tiri, wanting to smack the smug grin off her face.

“I’m not scared of you!” He yowled, shoving his wayward hair behind his face. Zhan Tiri only laughed, standing tall as she waved the lantern again.

“You will be,” she cackled, letting the magic burrow deep into the stones below. Varian shrieked as there was a large crack, the noise near deafening. He nearly fell as the bridge began to shake apart, a large chunk of it, the part he was standing on, beginning to break away. He tried to grab the handrail as it started to tip into the water, but failed.

He let out a terrified scream as the floor dropped out from under him, falling forwards. He clung to the stones, his fingers nearly numb against the cold. The part of the bridge was nearly ninety degrees from the rest of it- Varian screamed again as he began to slide down towards the raging water. He only just managed to catch himself on an edge before he would have slipped over the side. A wave of nausea took him as he felt his legs swing in the open air.

He heard a scuffle going on up on top of the bridge, but was too busy focusing on not plummeting to his death to care, until he saw a third figure break through the fog and slide down the broken bridge toward him.

“Hugo?!” He gasped, clinging tighter as the blond skid to a stop in front of him and grabbed Varian’s arms.

“Hey,” Hugo grunted, trying to pull Varian up. The smaller boy huffed out a breath, trying to scramble up onto the edge. He caught sight of the fear in Hugo’s eyes, and let out a gasp.

“If we live through this, remind me to thank you,” Varian gasped as he was pulled, the stone digging into his stomach. He looked up, gasping at a flash of pink behind them-

“Hugo, LOOK OUT!”

The older teenager yelped as he was grabbed from behind. Hugo was dragged away by magic, cursing. Varian grunted as he was dropped again, sliding back down to hang off the edge again. His arms burned as he clung to the bridge; he heard Zhan Tiri cackle, Hugo swear.

“How enchanting,” she laughed, “Together again, just in time to die!”

Varian heard Hugo shriek, a high-pitched yelp that cut through the noise. He just caught sight of a massive statue bursting to life, the giant, stone horse slamming its hooves into the bridge. No guesses for what was occupying Hugo, then.

Varian grit his teeth, reaching up and managing to catch a handhold in a cracked piece of the bridge. He pulled himself up, grunting with the exertion of it, and felt himself breathe a little easier once his feet were scrabbling against rock instead of open air. He kept pulling himself up the angled section of bridge, finally getting to the point where he could clamber up to hang off the edge of the standing part of the road.

He caught sight of Hugo rolling between the stomping hooves, gasping as he clung to the edge. “Hugo!” he cried, throwing out a hand towards the other boy out of sheer desperation. It was because of that distraction that he didn’t even notice Zhan Tiri until she was right in front of him.

The demon plucked him up by the front of his shirt with barely any effort, holding him high as he struggled.

“Finally,” she hissed. “The last of Demanitus’ little kingdom, gone. Goodbye, your highness.”

And with that, she let him drop. Varian shrieked as he fell, his heart jumping in his chest. He managed to snag a piece of metal that was jutting out from the bridge, wincing at the pain that raced up his shoulders when he did so. His body swung in open air, the only thing under him was the raging water a hundred feet below. He grit his teeth against the pain, hearing Hugo shout his name from the bridge. Zhan Tiri shrieked her laughter to the sky, cackling.

“At last!” She cawed, “The end of Corona is here!”

Varian swung his legs, forcing himself to move. They thought he was dead, he had a chance here-

He managed to grab another part of the bridge with aching hands, his fingers nearly slipping. With a groan he pulled himself up onto the stone bridge, gasping for breath as he finally got solid cobble underneath him. He chanced a look up, seeing Zhan Tiri and Hugo locked in a battle of wills with each other. Varian clawed his way to his feet, running for the demon with a shout.

He caught her in a tackle, sending them both tumbling to the stone. Varian ignored the pain in his body, reaching for the power source Zhan Tiri was carrying around. It glowed an ominous pink, a bright beacon in the dark.

A target.

Varian let out a gasp as he touched the lantern, an electric zing making his fingers numb. He felt a sudden kick to his stomach, the demon launching him away, but he kept his grip. Varian felt himself fly back, landing hard on his back. He groaned, rolling a bit on the stone. He caught sight of Hugo nearby, knocked unconscious by… something, and scowled.

He got his feet under him at the same time Zhan Tiri did. The demon looked frantically around herself, but stopped when she saw the lantern in his hand.

“Stop!” She shrieked, running towards Varian. He caught just a glimpse into her eyes, the rage and fire in them, before he whipped the lantern down at the ground, shattering it. He was thrown backwards, landing nearly on top of Hugo with a grunt. The world around them spun, flashing lights and colours overtaking the evening in a stunning light show and roaring winds.

In the center of the vortex, Zhan Tiri screamed, the agony in her voice clear as she sank to the ground. Varian watched in abject horror as she collapsed, dropping to the cobblestone as she turned to dust. Her screams went silent, the flashing pink and roaring winds dying out in a sudden, terrible silence.

Varian panted, sinking down to the stones as he caught his breath. He wasn’t well versed in this magic business, but turning to dirt probably wasn’t good for anyone, demon or no. He slowly turned on his knees, gently reaching for the man behind him.

“Hugo?” He whispered, as if scared to break the quiet they’d found themselves in. Varian cupped Hugo’s face with gentle hands, trying to rouse him. “Hugo, c’mon…”

But Hugo didn’t even stir.

Varian fought back tears, his eyes searching the other teenager’s face. “Please wake up?” He asked, desperate. “Please?”

He sniffled, turning away for a second to wipe at his eyes. The fear and adrenaline was starting to leave him, leaving only aches and sorrow in their wake, Varian’s body shook from the ordeal it had gone through, an involuntary spasm as he cried.

But then, like the sun through clouds, a gasping breath.

Varian twisted back around, his face splitting into a grin as he saw Hugo’s eyes open. The blond looked confused, still dazed from whatever had hit him, but Varian didn’t pause, instead throwing himself into Hugo’s chest with a happy noise.

“Ow,” Hugo whined at the impact, “Ow, c’mon Sweetcheeks, wanna maybe be gentle?”

“Oh, sorry!” Varian backed off, a little, but he was still close enough that their noses were almost touching. He cocked his head, looking at the green eyes in front of him.

“You… came back?” Varian asked, “I thought you were going back to-”

“I was,” Hugo shrugged, not meeting Varian’s eye, “But, uh, I…”

“You didn’t take the-”

“I couldn’t.”

Varian’s head dipped a little more, drawing closer to Hugo. “Why?”

The blond paused, shrinking a bit. “Because I…”

Varian stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, the shorter boy moving closer. They were only centimeters apart, their breaths mingling-

Tink.

They startled at the noise. Varian looked down to see he’d nudged his circlet, the shining diamonds still bright in the evening light. Hugo smiled, something quiet and resigned, before picking up the crown. He stood, Varian following quickly.

“They’ll be waiting for you,” Hugo murmured. He held the circlet to Varian, who took it with gentle hands. He stared down at it, contemplating, before looking back up at Hugo.

And just like that, he made his choice.

>>>><<<<

Rapunzel entered her grand foyer, Willow following her closely.

“I’m sure we’ll find him, darling,” Willow placated, “He can’t have gone far.”

Rapunzel only smiled knowingly, catching a glint of shine on a nearby table. She walked to it, picking up Varian’s circlet from the tabletop. Her face split into a wide smile, reading the accompanying note quickly before passing it to Willow. Her aunt took the paper, scanning it, before gasping.

“They’ve eloped!” She cooed, “Isn’t that romantic?”

Rapunzel grinned, joyful tears in her eyes. She held Varian’s crown to her, smiling at the thought of her baby brother out there, happy at last. She watched as Willow dabbed at her eyes, sniffling. Rapunzel laughed as Willow cooed again, holding the note out back to her. The princess only turned away, looking out her window towards the expanse of Vardaros.

Something in her settled at last, content to know he was out there, finally living his life. She took one last breath, blinking away the last of the tears as she focused on the distant river. If she imagined, she could almost catch a flash of blue on the deck of one of the boats.

Though she may not know it at the time, Varian stood on one of those very ships, laughing as Hugo bowed to him. He performed an overly dramatic mime of a curtsey, letting Hugo take him by the arm and begin to spin him, giggling as they danced together. His face glowed with the light of his smile, drawing closer to Hugo as they danced, until finally-

The press of Hugo’s lips on his was like coming home at long last.

Varian smiled into the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup Hugo’s face close to his own, deepening the kiss as it went on. When they finally split for air, there was a split second of pause, the two of them trying to memorize the other’s eyes.

Hugo finally broke the quiet, dipping forwards to scoop Varian up into a bridal carry, spinning them both. Varian openly laughed at that, throwing his arms around the blond’s neck and pressing an enthusiastic kiss to his cheek. He blinked past a sudden rush of happy tears, hugging Hugo tight to him for as long as he could.

Finally, he was home.

#Varigo #Varian #VATSK #Hugo the human #Anastsia AU let's GO #fic #TTS #tangled the series

27 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Clinic - Roger Davis

A/N: Just a RENT drabble because I recently watched a boot of the 1996 opening night performance.

\\\

The Coventry Church on Avenue B totted signs claiming that ‘all were welcome’. Maureen commented, on passing the signage, that some friend from The Ecstasy Club told her there were churches like that in Vegas...for strippers and prostitutes to find Jesus and get off the street.

“They don’t offer you help just the ‘good word’ of the Lord.”

“And that only helps when you’re out of candles.” Joanne had remarked, not too fond of the outreach ministry.

It played more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, trying to blend in with the community while preaching about the sins that existed on the streets it called home. The only benefit it offered came in the form of the free clinic and soup kitchen it set up on Thursdays and Saturdays. The clinic prescribed medication for those dealing with any number of illness, including but not limited to an HIV positive diagnosis. When Roger’s medication ran out Mark mentioned that Maureen had mentioned the place.

“Free drugs?” Mark had joked, fiddling with his camera equipment and not sparing Roger the opportunity to cut in a witty comeback.

Free drugs indeed. The clinic was set up in the basement, where bible study was usually held. The chairs had been pushed around to resemble a waiting room and dividers had been put up to give patients a small sense of privacy. It was more than they usually got. The room wasn’t the nicest and no amount of wall hangings with scripture could make it so, but it did the job it was meant to. A clinic on Thursday and Saturday, an AA meeting on Monday, an NA meeting on Tuesday and bible study on Wednesday and Friday. Roger wasn’t much for going out but the necessity outweighed his general disposition toward other people so he left his apartment and found himself waiting, slouched down in a metal chair beside a woman who seemed to smell worse the longer he sat waiting.

When it was finally his turn to go behind the partition, he found a rather pleasant looking young woman there. You didn’t appear out of place in the basement of a sometimes clinic the way the church members often did. And unsure what else to say as he sat in the chair across from you, he felt the need to comment on your not-out-of-place-ness.

“You don’t look like you belong to the church.” Roger gripped the sleeves of his sweater as he heard the words tumble out of his mouth. Not his finest moment, certainly, but he’d had worse too.

You smiled at him like you knew all about his inner turmoil. “Judging by how you phrased that, and the fact that I don’t belong to the church, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“I just mean-”

“It’s okay, we can move passed it.” You replied, taking a clipboard from the table beside you. It had a simple form on it, one found in most clinics and doctor’s offices. “Name?”

“Roger Davis.”

“Okay,” he watched you check off his name and the color of his eyes before you looked back up at him, “what’s your...actual hair color.”

“Blond.” He ran a hand through the bleached spikes on his head, he’d never grown out of that phase of his life the way he had imagined that he would.

“Any drugs?”

“No.”

“What brings you in today?” You set the half-complete clipboard on your lap and smiled at him like you maybe already knew why he was here despite the list of services offered from the temporary poster hanging on the door.

He was doing well. He’d watched friends die, Angel and Mimi and others in the support group that Collins was still taking him too every week. He wasn’t sure how much longer Collins had. Or himself for that matter but he didn’t like to think about it. He preferred to push away anyone potentially interested just so he wouldn’t have to disclose his status. “I have AIDs.”

“I assume you’ve taken AZT before?” You didn’t miss a beat as you asked him. Though he knew, realistically, that this was a clinic and of course they saw plenty of people coming in off the streets who needed AIDs medication and he was nothing special he had expected the slightest of recoils.

“The clinic I used to go to shut down and I ran out.”

“When did you run out?”

“Well I will, tomorrow.” He replied.

“I can give you a general ‘sample’ dose today, which will cover about a week and then if you come in Saturday I’ll have a full prescription for you. We work with an AIDs clinic in Brooklyn so I have to fill the prescription through them.” You explained.

“So, you just work for the clinic?” He asked, watching you fill out the medical part of his form. His renewed interest in you rearing its head.

“I don’t go to church here if that’s what you mean. I live around here though...I moved in a few weeks ago with some friends.” You offered more information than you usually would but you couldn’t be blamed for it. Roger was thin, sure, and certainly hadn’t slept well in the last ten years of his life, and the bleached hair washed him out, but he was nice looking. Cute in a very 80’s way, in a way that would have your mom experiencing heart palpitations.

“It’s a shitty neighborhood.”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence.” You laughed, better than your smile, you looked so happy. And his chest ached for a moment as he felt bad for being so friendly with you. “Is there anything else you wanted to go discuss?”

“No, just that.”

“Okay,” you nodded and Roger could practically feel the conversation coming to an end. And why wouldn’t it? He’d come in for medicine and you had set up a time for him to get it, an easy transaction, one that didn’t require a lot of time and discussion. But especially one that didn’t require him to linger.

He was slow to stand up, patting his pockets as if he was suddenly going to remember some reason he needed to stay longer. And really, there wasn’t one. He was faced with the same debilitating issue he was always faced with. Or he had always been faced with since April. Mark told him constantly to put himself out there, to meet people, go on dates, don’t sit and wallow. But what options did he have.

And then, suddenly, because he wanted it so much his mouth won out over his head, “my friends are having a get together tonight, if you’re not busy...” he trailed off as his brain caught up. What was he thinking?

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay, I’m not busy.” You said, standing and stepping toward the partition, “I am busy right now though...”

“Yeah, right, of course.” He felt like Mark, stumbling over himself. “I can pick you up at your friend’s place?”

“Sure,” you rattled off the address as you checked to see who was left waiting.

“You know I’m-”

“Yeah. I kinda got that.” You replied, lingering just a second more. You did need to get back to work. The woman with the foul smell had been taken into the other partition but you were stuck with the teen mom who thought her baby was coming every other day despite only being four months pregnant. If you didn’t get to her now there was no way you’d be done in time to meet Roger.

“Are you?” He chanced asking. Mimi had been, April obviously was. It was his lot in life no matter how melodramatic Mark told him that sounded.

“No. Some of my roommates are.” You glanced out into the makeshift waiting area as the pregnant girl rubbed her stomach and stared at the wall hangings, “I had better finish up.”

“Right, of course.” He nodded. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight Roger.” Feeling a little bolder than usual, whether because a cute guy asked you out or because he looked like the type that might appreciate bolder, you leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. Not too bold but more so than usual for you. He smelled like cigarettes and peroxide and the stubble on his jaw pricked just slightly.

“See you tonight.” He promised, thinking that maybe Mark was right about this place, it wasn’t as bad as the gaudy church signs outside made it seem.

Trying to find a good balance of work and school and writing and preparing for next semester....

#Roger Davis x reader #Roger Davis imagine #Roger Davis fanfiction #Roger Davis fanfic #rent fanfic #rent imagine #rent fanfiction #rent broadway imagine #broadway fanfic #broadway imagine #Broadway Imagines #broadway fanfiction #collecting stories imagine

31 notes · View notes

asphalt-cocktail · 5 years

Text

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Just Guilty Pleasure

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Heyyyy everyone, I know it has literally been forever since i’ve updated so thank you for sticking with me! I really appreciate you all checking in on me, honestly I have been a little down in the dumps because of some personal things going and also busier than all hell because of school, work, social life, working out, etc. But I finally got it done and i’m not going to lie but it’s all mostly porn with no plot so I hope you all enjoy! Also PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DM me if I have missed your tag! I feel like I am missing some people in my tag reblogs.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, smut, fluff, some friendly banter between roger and reader, clothing kink??? idk its really just sex, not proof read

Word Count: 3.6k

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

Your brain felt like a puddle of mush the following few days. It seemed as though your body and brain could not stop thinking about Roger.

How he touched you.

How he smelled like cigarettes and expensive cologne.

The noises he made as he fucked you against the shower wall.

You know, the usual stuff.

You were beginning to think you would be driven to the mad house if it wasn’t for Veronica shyly calling you up and asking you to accompany her shopping today. You hadn’t really talked to her since your last excursion out with Freddie and the boys and to be frank, it was nice to be in the company of a woman for a change.

You met Veronica down town in the food court of the mall; when you caught sight of her she excitedly waved at you.

“So, are you looking for anything special?” You winced as you sounded like a store employee while trying to hold a basic conversation.

Veronica’s face broke into a grin, “Well John and I are celebrating our one year and I didn’t know what to get him.” You could tell by the little sparkle in her eyes that she was in love “Freddie is nice, but we have,” she paused to think of the correct words, “Conflicting opinions on what to get John.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, Freddie always did have a penchant for lavish things. You pursed your lips, “Well what does John like?” You truly didn’t know him well enough to think of something right off the bat.

Veronica pursed her lips in thought as the two of you continued walking. She rattled off a few generic things which didn’t help spark ideas for either of you, “He’s just always so picky.” She mumbled.

As the two of you walked past window after window of shops, a flash of delicate lace caught your eyes and you paused your steps, “What if you bought some lingerie?” You asked. Veronica’s face flushed and you gave her a playful nudge “Come on, everyone likes a little lingerie; it’s practically the gift that keeps on giving.” You joked.

She let out a playful giggle and the two of you walked into the lingerie store, you began to look through the clothing racks and at displays with Veronica in tow “What colors does john like?” You asked looking at her from the corner of your eye.

Veronica pursed her lips, “I don’t know, I havent really ever worn lingerie for john before.”

“Well does he have a favorite dress or outfit that you wear? We can go based off that.” You suggested.

Veronica looked as though an idea sparked in her mind and she began to scroll through her phone, presumably to look at pictures. She turned to you and showed you two images, one was of her and John very drunk at the club; she was dressed in a tight leopard print dress, and the second was of her and John together, a casual selfie; this time she was in a simple blue sweater. Blue and leopard print. At least now you had something to work with.

In all honesty you didn’t peg John for a leopard print kind of a guy, but here you were. Veronica proved to be more picky than you expected, but you would understand why. A one year anniversary was a big deal in relationships. 365 days is a long time to spend with some one.

After much searching you and Veronica settled on several different styles and outfits that she was going to try on. While you waited you browsed the selection, maybe you too would go home with some new lingerie.

You knew that you would when you’re eyes fell upon a school uniform. It consisted of a mesh top that was cropped just below the mannequins breasts and had a little peep hole cut out in the middle and a cute little bow on the neck. The skirt (if you could even call it that) was the iconic red plaid and had matching suspenders attached to it. To top it all off, it came with a pair of crotchless panties that matched the top. You decided that you had to buy it. It would be a nice little treat for yourself; you hadn’t bought new lingerie since you first went out to stock up.

You quickly fished for your size and grabbed all the pieces to it as you heard Veronica calling you from the dressing room. She poked her head out “Wanna see?” She asked with an excited grin. You eagerly nodded and waited for her to step out.

The lingerie she had picked out was simple, yet sexy. It was a leopard print silk night gown that was adorn with black lace on the edges. “I love it!” You grinned, unable to hold back the excited and girlish giggle that slipped out.

———

After you jokingly told Veronica to let you know how her little surprise for John went, the two of you parted ways and you made it home before Roger did. You hurriedly ran into your room and eagerly dumped out the contents of the bag.

You spread out your new lingerie set on your bed and tapped your chin, “I have to try it on.” You mumbled to yourself and quickly stripped down and replaced your casual day ware with something a little more risqué.

You couldn’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror once you were fully dressed. You shifted, twisting and turning at various angles to get a full glimpse of yourself in the mirror, taking in every inch of your body.

“Jesus Christ,”

You turned to see Roger standing in your doorway. If it was possible, his jaw would have touched the ground. Your face flushed and you quickly let out a small squeak of shock and threw your hands on your chest.

Roger looked at you and licked his lower lip and shook his head before dropping his bags in the hall way and coming chest to chest with you, “Are we going to fuck right now? Because if we aren’t, please for the love of god change.” He practically begged you. His hands rested on your fore arms and he added pressure to them, allowing you to decide if you would lower them and expose your breasts beneath the white mesh fabric

You felt heat pooling between your legs and you slowly lowered your arms. Your nipples were already beginning to harden from the cool air in your room but seeing that look in Roger’s eye did something to you. You traced your finger on the his skin, outlining what wasn’t hidden by his button down and causing goosebumps to rise in the wake of your fingertips. Your fingers trailed up to Roger’s plump lower lip which was still hanging ajar. You lightly traced your fingers along its natural curve, “I think I’ve been a bad girl Mr. Taylor.” You whispered sensually.

Roger’s bright blue eyes immediately darkened and he closed his mouth, clenching his jaw tightly, “Have you now?” He asked, peering down at you through his long lashes. You gave him a pouty look, nodding your head. Roger groaned, bringing his hands to your hips and pulling you flush against him.

You could already feel his half hard erection poking at your bare thigh, “On your knees.” He commanded, suddenly stepping back and allowing a wave of cold air to bite your hot skin.

You obediently followed his commanding voice and sunk to your knees. Automatically your hands went up to his belt and tugged on it. He tutted at you, swatting your hands a way “Where are your manners, [Y/N].” He said, lightly cupping your face in his hands and craning to meet your gaze, “Ask permission first.” He frowned, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing your lips to pucker.

You winced as your teeth bit into the skin of your cheek, but didn’t ignore the shiver that crept down your spine and to the tips of your toes. “Can I please suck you off, Rog?” You whimpered as his grip tightened, “Mr. Taylor” you quickly corrected and sighed when he relaxed his hand.

Roger’s thumb slipped into your mouth where you greedily sucked on it and rubbed your tongue along the calloused pad of his finger tip. Roger pulled it out and nodded his head, “Yes,” He answered breathlessly. Your hands quickly flew up and began to unbuckle his belt and pants, “Say thank you,”

“Thank you, Mr. Taylor.” You answered, your lips still puckered together by his hand.

You slid his jeans and underwear down his legs, thankful that for once he decided to wear loose fitting pants. His half hard length slipped out and you lunged for it, letting out the most pitiful noise when Roger pulled his hips away from you.

He squeezed the sides of your mouth once more and you took the hint, opening wide for him and sticking your tongue out. He gripped his length in his free hand and slapped against your wet tongue. The lewd smacking sounds filling the air and its heat heavy against your tongue before he slipped it into your mouth.

Graciously he let go of your cheeks and allowed you to work him. You swirled your tongue around the tip and moaned at the taste of him as he filled and stretched your mouth deliciously. Your head bobbed up and down in tandem with his hand, getting him now fully erect.

Experimentally Roger grabbed the sides of your head, burying his hands in fistfuls of your hair and slowly pushed you down. You moaned, telling him you enjoyed his actions and allowed him to use more force. He pushed you down as far a you could go before he felt your throat spasming around his length. You gagged and quickly pulled back, coughing and attempting to catch your breath.

Roger’s face was flushed with arousal and he swallowed thickly, “I’m going to fuck your mouth,” He said and you nodded you head in agreement, “Tap my thigh twice if you want me to stop, okay?” He asked, his expression softening for a moment when you repeated back to him your non verbal safe word.

After getting repositioned, your hands gripped Roger’s hips as he filled your mouth and held the sides of your head once again. His hips experimentally moved against you, his length sliding against your tongue while you remained kneeling.

You let out a small whimper as he dug his fingers into your scalp and began to grip your hair harder. The vibrations shot through him and his hips bucked sharply against your mouth as he began to pick up the pace.

Each of his thrusts was met with the sound of you gurgling and gagging on his dick as it sharply pounded against your throat. Saliva began to pool in the corners of your mouth and dribble down the sides of your cheeks and chin leaving your skin shiny.

You hummed against him, content with being used.

Roger peered down at you, his mouth hanging open, eyebrows knit tightly together, and cheeks dusted red. His thighs clenched and he twitched in your mouth when you met his gaze. Tears freely spilled from your eyes and mixed with your mascara, causing grey lines to streak your face and become smeared against his palm. He pulled out from your mouth abruptly after almost having lost himself.

You gasped as your lungs filled with air and coughed lightly while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Roger quickly pulled you up by your arms and pressed a hot opened mouth kiss against your lips. Your teeth clanked together and the two of you desperately clung to each other. Roger’s back fell against the wall and he pulled your thigh up to rest on the side of his waist. He ground against you, letting out a shuttering and helpless moan when he felt your unclothed core grinding back at him.

Roger pulled away “Bed, now.” He said roughly turning you and pushing you in the direction of your bed. You gasped and involuntarily fell forward, catching yourself as your hands collided with the mattress.

Roger let out an audible groan as the split in your panties became very visible to him, your soaking core and bum peeking out through the slit in the lacy fabric. He pushed your skirt back and exposed your bottom half fully. Softly, he rubbed the roundness of your bum and kneaded fistfuls of the plush skin in his hand, “You need to warn a guy the next time you wear these.” He mumbled, watching as his finger slipped between the delicate fabric and disappear between your folds, “You’re fucking soaked,” He huffed, pumping his fingers easily in and out of your tight core. Your back arched and you pushed against him, needy for his touch, “You like being used don’t you?” He smirked deviantly.

You gasped, feeling his fingers curl inside you, “Yes, fuck I love it.” You let the sinful confession slip out of your swollen and abused lips.

Roger slipped the skirt off your hips and finished stripping himself down before he turned you over. His chest heaved as he looked at you. He’d barely even touched you and you were practically writhing for him on the mattress. Roger tapped the back of your thighs, “Come on, love, sit up for me.” He said softly kneeling on the bed and offering you a hand.

You felt a strange twinge in your stomach at his endearing tone and sat up. Roger helped you out of your mesh top, groping your breasts as they spilled from it. He leaned over and briefly took them in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue over the pebbled buds before he moved and sat at the top of your bed.

Roger held his arms open and beckoned you to sit in his lap. So clad only in your panties you crawled over to him and took your seat. Roger’s nose touched yours and his breath softly blew against your face. The smell of cigarettes and spearmint gum causing you to feel dizzy from the familiarity of it. His lips barely brushed over yours. You could feel the warmth of his skin radiating off and were pretty sure he could feel your heart threatening to beat out from your chest.

Roger captured your mouth in a much softer kiss. Grabbing the back of your head and keeping you close against him. Your mouths moved in tandem and familiar motions together; you whimpered feeling him moving his hands to your hips. He beckoned you to lift your hips and helped position you over his length, trying to break the contact with your mouth as little as humanly possible.

Roger hissed as he felt the smooth and delicate fabric of your lace panties brush against his cock as he slid into you. You sank down and wrapped your legs around his waist and he held you close with one arm crawling up your back and the other helping to guide your hips.

“Roger” You whined, burying your face into his neck and sighing as you felt him slipping in and out of you. The feeling of him filling you up and rubbing against your walls caused each and every one of your nerve endings to stand on end and his touches ignited a path of flames in their wake. You gasped and arched into his chest while Roger held you impossibly close.

He broke away from your mouth and trailed a peppered kisses along your cheeks and kitten licks down your jaw until he latched onto your neck, sucking and biting at the hot sweaty skin. He sucked on it until there was a deeply colored mark tainting your perfect skin; he let out a little whimper as he ran his tongue over it to soothe the tenderness that had built up.

Roger held your tightly against his chest, so tightly that your back began to arch uncomfortably. You were too distracted to notice the muscles cramping along your spine, “You take me so well baby,” Roger huffed in your ear, the hot breath moving your stray hairs and causing them to tickle your skin.

Your breaths got hotter and whinier and your nails raked down his shoulders “You like it when I fuck you like this, love?” Roger asked pulling your hips down harder and meeting you with his own thrusts.

Your mouth hung open and you gripped your breasts, pushing and kneading them together and pinching your nipples for added stimulation, “Fuck yes,” you gasped out in response.

Roger watched you bouncing on top of his lap, your breasts squished together, and your skin slick with sweat. His brows knit together as he tried to stave off his impending orgasm and his hand buried itself between your leg, skillfully rubbing rough circles around your swollen clit. You leaned against Roger and buried your face into his long, now damp hair and gripped tightly onto his forearms as he quickly brought you over the edge.

Your walls clenched and pulsated around his cock and he shuttered against you, choking out a whiny groan of his own before he buried himself to the hilt and filled you with his hot seed.

You gasped and your eyes shot open and Roger quickly pulled way. His face was red and his eyes were wide “I’m sorry, shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- it-I just-” he sounded panicked as he pulled out of you.

The evidence of your actions began to leak down your thigh as you sat hovering over Roger’s lap, slightly shocked that he came inside you, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” You said softly.

He continued to babble, as he usually did when he was flustered and you gripped the sides of his face, forcing him to focus on you. “Roger, it’s fine I’m not upset we can buy Plan B later today, okay?” You said in a firm tone, hoping to ease his worries.

Roger swallowed thickly and nodded his head, “Yeah, okay,” He was only slightly put at ease by your words, “I’m sorry,” He said once more.

You felt emotions tugging at your heart from his sincere words, you placed a lingering kiss on his lips “It’s fine I promise.” You said and softly smiled at him, “We just have to use a condom next time, okay?”

———

After your whole little Plan B incident, you and Roger were more careful to say the least, but, it didn’t curb the sexual appetite the two of you had developed for each other. It was both good and bad; good because you had no shortage of content for your little side hustle and bad because you found yourself craving Roger. The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other and surprisingly enough, Freddie and your mutual friends hadn’t noticed anything.

“Hey, Rog?” You called as you entered the living room. After the two of you had finally finished up painting the walls the room, like you said, had managed to look much brighter and more open; though you could still some how see the outlines of the miss matched shapes Roger painted over the layer you put over them. It added character to the walls, you supposed.

“Yeah?” He answered back, pausing his game and setting his PlayStation controller on the table.

“Some guy sent in a video request.” You said pursing your lips and frowning.

Roger quirked his head at you, “What is it?” He asked getting up and walking towards you.

“A video in public,” Your face flushed at your words.

Roger’s eyes held a devilish glint, the opposite reaction you held, “Public you say?” He teased, “What’s he want us to do?” He pressed obviously getting a rise out of the personalized request.

You shifted, “I don’t know, like do stuff in public; like me giving you head under a table or you fingering me in a movie theater, or-”

“Having sex in a bathroom?” Roger quickly interrupted you.

You frowned, “No, I’m better than bathroom sex, Roger.” You said firmly.

Roger couldn’t help but laugh, “I never said you weren’t,” He quickly added, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder, “It would be hot though, wouldn’t it? All cramped up in a stall, having to be quiet while people came and went?” He tried to sound enticing, but you weren’t having it. He could tell from the expression on your face, “What about the closet after a gig? You haven’t been to one of our shows in a while.” He smirked against the skin on your neck, “I know how hot you get after one of our shows.” He teased.

You shivered, “I don’t know about that, what if Fred or Brian hear?” You looked away bashfully.

“All right then, what do you want to do?” He said, hoping you would make up your mind.

You pursed your lips in thought, “We can do it after one of your shows in the bathroom,” you sighed, secretly trying to suppress your excitement.

Roger grinned at you, “We’ve got that big show in a few days, is that soon enough?”

You nodded your head, before you felt your face heat up more, “Hey, Rog?” You questioned, playing with the hem of your shirt. Roger hummed in response, “Can you wear that white vest?” You asked feeling the head spreading from your face down to the back of your neck.

A grin spread across Roger’s soft features and the sides of his eyes crinkled “With the little tassels on it, right?” He couldn’t hide the amused tone in his voice or the grin that held it’s place when you nodded sheepishly in response

#roger taylor #fsc fic #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor series #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #borhap #borhap x reader #queen x reader #queen fanfic #borhap fandom

145 notes · View notes

bloodlinevalentine · 5 years

Text

The Blessed Unrest

Decided to cross-post my little ohmtoonz ghost thing here :)

Chapter 1: Live Like You’re Still Alive

Luke sighs and crosses his arms, leaning forward onto the rusted rails in front of him. Behind him is a set of glass sliding doors and a large, empty room. Blank, golden brown eyes scanned the rows of buildings, looking out over the city. It seems that's all he can do now: spectate. He's been up there for longer than he can keep count for, and he can't seem to get down. He felt like a goldfish in a small bowl, stuck watching the humans go about their daily lives.

And, perhaps it was a bit of a pretty fish bowl. The balcony he'd been sitting on was pretty high up, and sprawled before him laid all that Chicago, Illinois had to offer. Luke is, by far, not the most observant person, but by now he's seen all there is to see. During the day, the nearby streets were a blur of cars speeding by and the ant-like figures of people making way down the sidewalks. From how high up he was, he couldn't even see the fashionably large coats and cars that dominated during this time of year due to the climate, just the ant-like figures moving around below him. The summer sun's overpowering rays were shrouded by the thick, grey winter clouds.

During the nights, nearly all the people down below cleared out the streets and all that was left was the chilled breeze against tall glass towers. Checkered light dotted buildings where janitorial crews remained busy decorated the dark sky, while neon signs advertised hotels and bars open late. A pale yellow glow illuminated the once busy roads, reflecting in the semi-melted snow. Muddied and marred crystals splashed onto the curb as the occasional car crept past. It served as a reminder that in a city as big and populated as Chicago, it was never completely quiet. Even in the darkest hour there was always someone on their way home from a late shift, someone walking across a parkway to meet another, someone smoking out on a porch.

All things considered, it actually took him a long while to realize he was dead. But once the signs make themselves known, he only wonders how he didn't figure it out sooner.

It starts with a lady in a nearby apartment complex taking her dog out for a piss. She has her brown hair lazily tied back and his leash loosely in her hands. The dog waddles around for a moment before he finds a grassy corner to go in, and it makes Luke think about how long it's been since he himself went. Then he remembers the last time he's slept, or eaten, or even simply spoken to another person. It's an an awful feeling, realizing your dead, especially when you have to be alive and conscious for it. Well, conscious. And in his many attempts to get somewhere, anywhere but this balcony, he's mostly just expanded his repertoire of different ways to give up. People came and went, but no one stuck around long, or even acknowledged him.

As he sat and watched the world pass him by, Luke had to wonder why. Why was he just sitting here? What exactly was stopping him from getting down from this accursed ledge? And after a quick moment of consideration, he decided it was nothing. He was leaving.

Or, so he tried. But anytime he attempted to pass from the balcony and into the room behind him, this awful heat in his chest would start up and kick into high gear, filling up the inside of him until it felt like he was drowning in it. The further it went, the worse it would get until it overwhelms his ability to move and he's forced back onto the ledge to relieve it. After a few failed attempts, he dejectedly gave up.

He'd even tried jumping as a means of escape, but it was only once. In an angry fit he'd narrowed his eyes at the ground below, and with a not even a single thought, leaned over the rail and let the sky have him. It didn't work, of course, a fact for which Luke didn't know if he should be happy about or not. He'd flipped through the air once, twice, and three times before he was speeding face first to the ground. It was the most terrifying moment, plummeting to the concrete unnoticed by any people below. Tears from the wind and perhaps something Luke doesn't think about blur his vision pretty strongly, but he can still see himself nearing the ground. At the last possible moment, when it seems the pavement is just grazing his skin, he blacks out. When he wakes up, he's back on the ledge like before, the memory of what feels like years before the only thing occupying his brain.

Luke felt so alone, even though he often found himself in the company of another lonesome stranger. Sometimes people would come out when they rented the party room behind him, for whatever reasons, and bring their odd conversations with them. He'd hear people sigh in defeat at a love not reciprocated while others partied their hearts out inside, or be forced to listen in as people complained about their situations at work or school, oblivious of his own problem.

One time, a guy even came out talking to himself and leaving convenient gaps for Luke to give his opinion, even though the man couldn't have known he was there. He never minded when people came outside, even if they seemed to ignore him or whine about problems that paled in comparison to his own. When you're clearly a ghost, any company is good company.

So, a little while later, Luke isn't too surprised to see a man enter the party room and cross over to the balcony. He wordlessly slides the glass door and step out onto the ledge, staring over at the people below. There is nothing going on in the building, so he must be scouting the area for a party later. However, when the guy's foot makes contact with the balcony Luke hears a snap, like the sound a rubber band when it smacks into your hand. He feels something in his chest reel, the way you would imagine a bullet tearing through your skin, shredding muscles and sensitive tissue until it finally drags its weight out of you. The sensation makes him whip his head back up in alarm.

The man looked as if he was hastily dressed, shiny brown tresses a mess around his head and tattered clothes free in the wind. His face is tense and slightly angry, but if you look past that, he's pretty attractive. Although, he has a sort of rushed air about him, as though a man on a mission.

Luke watches the guy scan the area, ghosting over him like everyone else. He raises a hand to his chest to soothe the odd pain and looks back over the edge to continue his miserable mulling.

It's not until the man takes a particularly sharp inhale that Luke looks over at him again, and this time, soft, hazel eyes are staring directly at him with a frightened intensity. It seems to take the guy a minute, during which he looks as though he wants to say something, but when he realizes what is so wrong he gasps for real. A pale hand reaches out towards the door handle, swiping and missing a few times before he finally gets a grip.

Luke realizes in one elated sweep that the man knows he's there--is looking at him--which he says as much as he can in a gasp of his own. He leaps to his feet, and other pales at his reaction, finally gaining his bearings and yanking the door open just wide enough to fit his body through before he throws himself into the room. He doesn't bother with a fleeting glance or even the slightest pause, just slams the door shut so hard the glass rattles in it's frame.

Not about to let his only chance of getting out of his hell escape, Luke reaches for the handle himself, only to phase through it and the door in turn. That feeling makes everything left in his body run cold and rush hot all at the same time. 'Now that has never happened before,' he thinks, and had to take a moment to appreciate the effortlessness of it, but that time quickly passes. Before, he's never been able to phase through anything else, but before he's never run into anyone who could see him. He's got to catch that person.

"I can't see you!" The guy shouts over his shoulder and makes a break for the stairs rather than the obviously slow elevator. Luke wants to yell something back about the absurdity of that statement, but finds himself consumed with laughter instead. In no way disturbed by Luke's amusement, he rounds a corner at the end of the first set.

"Why are you running from me?" Luke yells back when he gains his composure. He's a little surprised by the volume of his voice, but then again it has been who-knows-how-long since the last time he'd actually spoken out loud to someone. The other doesn't look like he cares about his inquiry, though, and instead increases his speed down the steps. Luke doesn't remember exactly how tall the building is, but he knows there's many more at this rate.

That thought, along with the fact that he's falling behind in their chase makes him jump to close the distance, almost losing his footing at the landing because when he reaches out for the handrail, his fingers glide right through it. When he finally rights himself, he picks up the pace as well to catch up.

Seemingly inspired by his show of diligence, the boy attempts a leap of his own, but misses a step at the bottom and goes down hard. With a departing yelp, he tumbles down the last few steps and smacks into the wall signaling the turn with all of his momentum. The fall looks painful as anything Luke has ever seen, and all the hopeful mirth drains from his face; in its wake is trickle by agonizing trickle of mortification.

"Holy shit, are you alright?" He slows to a stop a few paces away, watching in silent guilt as the guy examines himself. There is no blood, at least none that he can see, but there is definitely some major bruising and perhaps some swelling that is soon to come. When he decides nothing too incapacitating is amiss, he winces to sitting position and levels a reluctant gaze at Luke.

"I..." he makes to answer Luke's question, but pauses briefly, "No, I--uh--that was totally my fault." He directs his vision to the floor with a dejected gaze.

"Why were you running away from me anyway?" Luke prods carefully, assessing his companion's face as he processes the question.

"Listen man," he starts after a moment, obviously not inclined to answer the second question, "I know this is hard to hear, and it probably doesn't even make sense, but you... you're dead now." He looks up at Luke again, watching his reaction closely.

"Well I think I've realized that by now." He sighs and moves to sit as well and hopefully disarm the guarded look on the other man's face.

The guy just screws his eyes shut and tilts his head in a pained nod, bringing a hand to his head once again. "Fuck," he curses as he draws the hand back down into his lap, and Luke feels a pang of guilt through himself again.

"I didn't kill myself though." Luke blurts into the silence. He'd actually never thought that completely, but as the words come out of his mouth, he feels assured that they're true. He doesn't even need the memories of his life to understand that the pure terror he felt when he'd jumped after already being dead all that time was too unfamiliar to have been how he died in the first place.

The guy opens his eyes at the sound of Luke's voice, and nods lightly once more. "Yeah, I can tell. You looked more like a murder anyway."

Luke's eyebrows fall at the odd words, and the man seems to mistake his silence as balking at the statement. "Look, right here is not the best spot for this. We can go to my place and I can explain it better, okay?"

Luke gives the guy an assessing look as he thinks it over. He's wearing grey hoodie, ripped and frayed at the wrists and a scruffy pair of no doubt unintentionally distressed blue jeans. His bedraggled shoes were the most worn of all though, complete with a belt of duct tape around the toe painted white in a semblance of normality. Truly, they looked as though they were being held together by sheer willpower more so than any of its threads.

But then he also watches the tension in the guy's expression unwind, almost as if just the idea of being at home makes him more comfortable. Well, it wasn't like he had any reason to distrust the only person who'd even seen him in weeks, and he's already dead, so what's the worst that could happen?

"Sure, sounds good." He nods and they both rise and head down that last few flights of stairs.

"I'm Luke, by the way." he supplies as they step out into the sunshine, but the guy doesn't react at all. At first Luke thought it to be a bit rude, but as people look and even speak through him, he realizes that he's being ignored because no one can see him. Even he can conclude that standing around talking to no one is pretty strange. But as he observes the crowd a bit more, he realizes that people are naturally giving them a wide berth. It was almost as if the other people could tell he was different, not knowing anything about him. Luke made a mental note to ask about it later.

[][[][][][]][]

The guy doesn't stop until they reach an apartment complex that Luke wouldn't give a second glance at if he was still alive. Although, a muted grey building with white trimming and a graffiti collage on the alley-side wall isn't much to blink at for most people anyway. They turn down a path leading to more buildings in similar condition, and Luke frowns. This can't be where he lives, can it?

Luke himself had never been especially well off, but he would never consider his family poor growing up either. They fit more snugly into the upper middle-class sector. He did believe he knew what poor looked like though, and despite his clothes, he refused to believe that this man lived in such bad conditions. He must have been taking a shortcut.

Only now, muddy tennis shoes with no recognizable brand were stomping up cement steps leading up to the second floor and Luke's eyebrows knit together as he follows.

"Sorry about earlier" he speaks up as the near the doors, and at first, Luke isn't sure if he's talking about running away or ignoring him until he continues, "But I'm sure you understand why I can't really talk to you in public. My name's Ryan." He throws Luke an exasperated smile over his shoulder as he routinely walks over to a door near the end of the corridor and pulls out a pristine silver key from his jacket pocket. The wooden door has a worn and chipped plastic address on the front, characters reading 6A bolted haphazardly to it. Is this really where Ryan lives?

"And sorry about this too, but it's gonna be a bit messy inside," Ryan grins apologetically, wrestling they key into the dubious looking lock and working it open with slight difficulty. When the old, creaky metal finally gives, he pushes the door open and lets them both in.

The interior really is a mess, but Luke gets the feeling that isn't entirely Ryan's fault. Chalky, inconsistent manila walls are losing more than just their paint in the corners, and white carpeting is always a bad idea. But aside from those things, the room's mostly organized state convinces Luke that Ryan is a clean oriented person. He probably didn't even make those stains on the floor.

"It's not that bad." Is his leisure reply. Ryan reaches for a light switch that Luke half expects to flicker and blink into life, it would go with the rest of the working in this place.

Except the light just comes on, no humming or flickering included, prompting Ryan to plop onto the gently loved sofa and dig around for something underneath one of the cushions. He pulls a laptop out as if withdrawing it from a storage, and Luke raises an eyebrow when expectant eyes turn up towards him.

"You can start by just telling me anything you remember, as far back as you can go." He lifts a hand and drops it onto the back of the couch, and Luke stills at the smile he receives.

It occurs to him that Ryan really is trying his best here, and he gets the feeling that it isn't his first time of him having to go through this with someone. He looks tired and a little defeated, but undeniably means well by all this.

"I don't remember a lot," He confesses reluctantly, but when Ryan's look of support never wavers, he goes back as far as he deems relevant.

"I was at a party," Luke begins, and as he speaks the memories come back a little, "It was for me, At least I think it was... No I'm sure, I'm pretty sure I had done something, or gotten something. It definitely wasn't a birthday party." He can hear the soft taps of Ryan typing on his laptop as well.

"Maybe a graduation or something?" Ryan pipes and pauses the ticking of his note taking to level Luke with a curious glance.

"No but, similar..." Ryan nods and types some more, but Luke feels and odd sensation of confusion rise in his chest. It was as though the memories of that night had just been erased from his mind. "I remember a fight-- as in, I'm a boxer, so maybe it had to do with that."

He waits a moment for Ryan to asses and decide what he want to write, and eventually receives a nod,"Okay, you can go on," he encourages as he finishes typing, and Luke continues.

"There was a shit-ton of people there. I'm talking rooms all the way down the corridor full of people. I'm sure there was no way for me to know them all, and there were so many were people I hadn't seen in a while. Everyone was constantly taking pictures. And, for some reason I remember something about wild bananas." Luke's face contorts from introspection to back into confusion as his brain conjures up the hazy images.

"Sounds like an interesting party." Ryan chuckles as he types, flashing him a quick look of disapproval, but a good 'your-friends-are-weird-people' kind of disapproval. Luke would laugh lightly at the situation too, but a sobering thought arises.

"But, I remember some other stuff too." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "I remember standing by the door were you found me. I think I got into an argument with someone, or something like it. I was so angry and..." Sad?

Luke pauses with the word on the tip of his tongue, almost tasting it, but something about it wasn't right. And suddenly, he is filled with the sensation of familiarity. The most vivid memory so far: he can feel the phantom flurry of emotions from that night wash over him again like a wave, and they go far beyond sadness. Betrayed. His brain supplies with another hazy image: raised voices, the goosebumps left behind from a feral yell, and the only emotion that reaches deeper than anger. He had been deeply, deeply betrayed.

"Luke?" Ryan asks his silence, leaning to enter his field of view. Luke just shakes his head.

"Then, I stepped outside for some air, because I was just getting angrier and angrier. I slammed the door behind myself before I was pushed over the edge. I don't think I actually saw anyone out there, I didn't even think to check, really. But suddenly there was nothing but wind and sky around me, and I'm positive I didn't just walk off."

When Luke looks over, Ryan still has not continued clacking away at his keys. Instead, his eyes remain openly trained on Luke, hands slack at his sides. He has this expression on his face that's not quite legible, but Luke decides he doesn't like the way it makes him feel.

"After that it was just me up on that balcony for the longest until you showed." Finally, after a bit more hesitation, Ryan begins typing again.

"Any idea how long?" he asks quietly, and Luke meets his gaze as he thinks.

"A month, maybe two?" he hazards a guess, "It got pretty hard to keep track."

"That's okay," Ryan hums lightly and looks up at him, stalling the movement of his hands, "Time goes by a little funny when you're dead."

The words don't sit too nicely with Luke, but he doesn't say anything in retaliation. It really is going to take some getting used to it for him to easily joke about this. I mean, he was dead for god's sake. Instead of voicing this this thought though, he sits quietly as Ryan begins looking for anything online surrounding his death.

"Hey, I think I found something." He speaks up, after a while. "It says here that you were at a party a friend was hosting for you." Ryan pauses as though the statement is unfinished, and appears to read over it a few times before continuing. "And, that you won a UFC Championship against the former champion. It was big, huge even, televised apparently." He says in disbelief, and the words draw a gasp from Luke's lips.

Ah yes, that sure jogs the memory. It was the biggest event of his career, and it was even better when he won. How had he forgotten! Now, he didn't even have to guess at how so many people he barely spoke to somehow arrived at the party now. If he won something that huge, Jon was probably hosting the after-party, and you could bet on the fact that Evan was on the VIP list. And these days, if Evan was doing anything, his entourage was quick to follow in a mess of plus-ones and questionable invitations.

"It says that it was a tremendous party turned tragic when you committed suicide. There were no eyewitnesses in the vicinity, but no one else was believed to be there when you jumped off the balcony. It made the news."

"I didn't commit suicide," Luke's frown deepened, and he started pacing again, "I was murdered."

Ryan nods but doesn't say anything else, eyes scanning his laptop screen a few more times before he closes it and looks up a Luke.

"Wait. If you could have just looked it up, why did you ask me?" He laughs a little, but it feels empty, especially when Ryan just levels him with a admonishing look.

"I know you didn't commit suicide Luke, but the police don't, and that is a big issue for us. Right now, the best thing you could do for yourself is try to remember as much as you can." After he says this, his eyes soften and a shy smile graces his features. "But on the other hand, whoever pushed you might be a little easier to find since it's been so long. They've likely stopped being careful and keeping away from suspicious areas, thinking they've gotten away with this. I think that if we really work at it, we'll be able to find the bastard who did this to you." He giggles lightly, and Luke can't keep the small grin off his face.

He tames it though and nods, settling himself to the sound of Ryan's confidence. As much as he hates struggling to remember his own damn life, he must say that he hates being dead even more. If anything, he was stoked just to be away from that ledge and with someone who could see him, if if the guy might just be crazy for it.

"Thanks, man." He says with as much genuinity as he can muster, and his faith is only strengthened by Ryan's winning smile.

Perhaps this whole being dead thing could work out for him.

#thanks for reading #fanfics #ohmtoonz #blood on paper #ghosts #ohm being a general good human #the usual #ohmwrecker #cartoonz

8 notes · View notes

matrixaffiliate · 5 years

Text

Ojalá - Cede

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Cede

It had been a bit strange, adjusting to their flat being short two residents. It had always had four residents. First, it was the Marauders, ready to start at university. Then Peter took a position in Canada after graduation leaving Remus in the second room on his own. Then Remus took a position two hours away, and despite how much Sirius insisted the commute was fine, Remus moved closer to his work.

James and Sirius probably would have been able to make the rent on their own, but it definitely would have made things tight back then. So Remus offered to help find someone to take the spare room. His friend Lily happened to be looking and her friend Marlene had needed a new place as well. So when Remus moved out, Lily and Marlene moved in.

But now, James and Lily moved out as they continued to plan their upcoming wedding. And that left Sirius and Marlene to finish out the last four months of the rental agreement.

Sirius sat at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich as he scrolled through flat listings on his phone. He heard the lock turn and sighed, McKinnon was home.

Don't get him wrong, Sirius liked Marlene, a lot, and you'd have to be blind to not see how drop dead gorgeous she was. Marlene was brilliant and sexy and clever and could sling insults better than anyone. But since Lily and James moved out, Marlene had been a nightmare.

She was sharp-tongued with him in ways she'd never been in the nearly three years they'd all lived together. The ways they had joked and laughed when Lily and James had locked them out of one or the other's room seemed to be gone now, and Sirius was confused as hell as to why. They had been mates - at least he thought they had. Now she couldn't seem to stand being in the same room as him.

"McKinnon," he didn't look up from his phone as she went straight for the room she used to share with Lily. She didn't respond, she never did anymore. Sirius wished he knew what was going on. He realized he'd need to talk to James about it at some point. He was James' best man and Marlene was Lily's maid of honor. How were they going to function at their best mates' wedding if she couldn't even bother to look at him, let alone say hello?

Sirius tried to put it out of his mind. Obviously, she wanted to be difficult and he'd best let her be for now. If she really loved Lily, she'd put on a good face at the wedding and then be done with it. He went back to scrolling through flat listings, saving the ones that he wanted to email about and finishing off his dinner.

He'd just about decided to go for a ride on his bike when Marlene came out of her room. Her eyes met his and Sirius saw ice in her stare. But rather than the c'est la vie attitude he'd been choosing to take, Sirius felt a fire of anger light in his chest. What right had she to make him feel unwelcome in his own fucking flat? He paid both his half and James' half of the rent, just as she paid her's and Lily's. He had just as much right to sit at this table as she did.

He met her stare and let his anger seep into his expression. Either she didn't notice or she wasn't intimidated. He liked that about her, Marlene didn't let anyone push her around. She walked purposefully to the kitchen and opened the fridge, which pinned her against the wall. Sirius wasn't sure what he was doing, but he was tired of her treating him like a problem. So he walked right up against the open fridge door.

"You know, adults usually don't take their problems out on their friends."

Marlene didn't look at him, instead, she kept staring straight ahead into the fridge. "I don't have a problem."

"Bull shit," Sirius spat back at her. "James and Lily move out and all of a sudden you don't look at me, you don't talk to me, you even try to avoid being in the same room as me. If you don't have a problem then tell me what the hell is going on, because if I wanted to be treated like fucking scum I'd go back to my dear mother."

It flashed in her eyes then, sympathy. Normally he'd hate that, but right now he took it as a hope. If she still could feel something for how he grew up maybe she didn't think of him as the scum of the earth after all.

"Sirius..."

"What did I do, Marls?"

Marlene laughed, a sardonic sound as it fell from her lips. "What did you not do, Sirius?"

"Fuck, Marlene, you can't just tell me everything I do is wrong!" Sirius wanted to shove the fridge door shut but Marlene beat him to the punch. The old machine rattled as the door slammed into it.

"That's just it," she shot back, "you don't do anything wrong! You do everything right!"

Sirius' confusion only fueled his anger and he stepped into her space. "Then why treat me like I'm some sort of pest? Why are you acting like we haven't been friends for the last three years?"

He put his hand against the wall behind her to steady himself. She was staring up at him with wide eyes and Sirius couldn't stop himself from dropping his eyes to her lips. He almost forgot why he was angry. How had he ended up this close to her?

Sirius had been attracted to Marlene from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she'd been in the middle of a relationship then, and when she'd called it off with what's his face he had just started dating someone; and while they'd both been single for the last year or so, they were friends rather than strangers sharing a flat, and Sirius wasn't sure he wanted to risk their friendship by bringing feelings into it. Now, though, looking down at her with their bodies a breath's distance apart, he felt like he had nothing to lose.

"You aren't a pest," Marlene's voice had gone quiet and she couldn't seem to look away from him.

"Then why," Sirius closed the distance between them, causing Marlene to press up against the wall, "are you pushing me away?"

She was so close to him their breathing caused their chests to touch and Sirius refused to stop staring her down. She had made him feel like trash the last month or so, but right now she was making his skin burn. The feelings he'd buried when she first moved in had sprung to the surface and he was almost ready to give into them and kiss her.

"I, I'm sorry," Marlene's voice was quieter still but she continued to hold his eyes. "I didn't mean to, I was only trying to get myself to not ruin everything."

"To ruin what?"

She didn't answer; just pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. But for the first time since he pinned her to the wall her eyes left his just long enough to drop to his lips before snapping back up to look at him.

Sirius was losing his grip on the situation. He officially couldn't remember what happened to get them to this point. They were entirely too close. Sirius couldn't help himself. His free hand came up to her face, tucking her hair behind her ear and running his fingers down her curls. Her breath caught as he did and that was probably what did him in.

Sirius lost control.

He brought his lips to hers and his hand came down to grip her waist. She tasted better than every dream he'd had of her, and his body moved of its own accord as he pressed her back into the wall so that his body was flush against hers. But what spurred him on more than anything was how she responded to his kiss. Marlene gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as she pressed on her toes to kiss him further. She parted her lips with a moan as her hands moved over his chest. Her touch was electric and it short-circuited Sirius' logical brain. Everything revolved around this woman, feeling her body against his, kissing every inch of her skin, hearing her sigh his name as he moved against her. He wasn't thinking about after this moment, he was hoping to be consumed in this moment.

The rush he felt when she started pushing them back towards the bedrooms pushed him over the edge. He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carried her back into his room.

"I've wanted to do this for fucking ever," Marlene sighed as she pushed her hands under his shirt.

"Well, then we're both idiots," Sirius pressed kisses down her neck and the deep collar of her shirt, "because I have too."

Marlene arched into him and brought her black nails to his scalp. "Wait," she panted, "swear we don't tell James or Lily that part."

"No shit Sherlock," Sirius laughed, "I quite prefer taking the Mickey to being roasted, especially when it concerns James."

Marlene laughed, a breathless sound, that quickly became a moan as Sirius deliberately turned her mind back to him and away from their former flatmates.

Much later, Marlene's curls splayed out on one of his pillows, Sirius ran his hand lazily over her curves.

"When?" Sirius asked. "When did you know you wanted me?"

Marlene's soft smile was relaxed in a way he'd never seen before. "The day Lils and I moved in."

Sirius couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "You wasted a lot of time. I was going to ask you for a pint that night before Lily mentioned your boyfriend."

"Fabian wasn't a bad guy," Marlene sighed, but her smile, soft, sexy, and sated, was all for him as it stayed planted on her face. "But he wasn't you."

"I should have dumped what's her name the moment you dumped Fabian." Sirius scooted forward to kiss her, pulling her body flush against his.

"Her name was..."

"She wasn't you, Marls," Sirius cut her off, "she doesn't matter."

He chuckled at the way Marlene's expression shifted from shocked to pleased to that earlier soft smile that was all for him, because of him.

"Find a flat with me," her voice was strong and it lacked the inflection of a request.

While Sirius would normally tease her, he found the feeling in his chest left him incapable of doing anything but grinning like an idiot before nodding once and kissing the fucking daylights out of her. Because he never thought he'd have more than dreams when it came to Marlene. Yet here she was, in his bed, telling him she wanted to keep living together, while she kissed him like he was the last remaining source of oxygen and she was suffocating.

And if Sirius could find more excuses to keep that soft smile on her lips, he was going to exploit every single one of them.

#blackinnon #blackinnon fanfiction #sirius x marlene #sirius black x marlene mckinnon #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #muggle AU #roomates to lovers #harry potter fanfiction #Marauders

6 notes · View notes

apex-academy · 5 years

Text

Chapter 3: Down Down Down and the Flames Went Higher (#14)

Nothing else of note today. Eyesight’s getting closer to normal again. Still a little squinty.

I just lock up tight and hope I wake up in the morning.

“Um, hello! Good morning! I’ll be unlocking the cafeteria now, so feel free to have breakfast at your leisure and let me know if you need anything! Have a nice day…!”

Hey, I woke up. Awesome.

Now I might as well go back to bed, since breakfast isn’t till nine.

...

8:30 now. That’s better.

I stretch and get ready for the day. You’d think Monochap would at least let us sleep in on the weekends. Is it the weekend? Not sure.

So, the mastermind doesn’t mind getting woken up early every day? Seems like that might narrow the field. Granted, half the chronic sleeper-inners are dead already.

“...”

Who knows. Now’s not to the time to worry about it if I want to get to the big breakfast.

I make my way to the cafeteria, take a breath, and step inside.

“...I didn’t know we even had tablecloths.”

They sure went all-out, huh? Doesn’t look like they’ve finished setting up yet, though. A few other “guests” linger by the wall, waiting. I take my spot next to Aki.

“What was the point of this again...?”

“Just for the sake of something different, I think.”

“I can’t come up with any other reasons.”

“Ah, Mahavir. They didn’t recruit you to help cook?”

“No.”

“Did they need help?!”

“I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Was someone going to get Kaichi?”

“Does he even know about the breakfast?”

“I’m sure if we tell him there’s food, he’ll come.”

Tsunyasha shakes her head slowly.

“Ah, to be so simpleminded. I truly can’t see how you creatures stand it.”

Before I can figure out a response, the doors behind me crash open. I turn to see Kanagi strolling in with Kaichi behind her.

“Yo, dudes! ‘Sup?”

“Not much. It’s still a little early.”

Kaichi looks over the tables.

“Nameplates 'n everything, huh? Should I’a dressed up more?”

“More than swim trunks, I would certainly say. Though I’m beginning to doubt you own anything else.”

“What, y’ don’t got a tux for me t’ rent?”

“I do not.”

Why do I feel like Kaichi would just wear a tux with the swim trunks?

Before I can imagine it too vividly, Itsurou slips out of the kitchen, thin-stemmed glasses of juice in hand. He tilts his chin, apparently in greeting.

“You may have a seat at any time you like! If there are any issues with the seating arrangement, do let me know.”

“Miss Yuki and Miss Tamiko are responsible for all of the cooking, so this side of the event is really the only part of the breakfast I'm supervising.”

“Though I suppose I did at least make the juice.”

I’m trying to pay attention, but his new getup is a little distracting. That’s a really long overcoat.

“Just felt like playing butler for the day?”

“For the morning, at least!”

Trying not to mess up the tablecloth, I take my assigned seat. Looks like the rest of my table is Kaichi, Kanagi, and... Is there a nameplate for Kaichi’s surfboard?

“...”

I’m just not going to question it.

By 9:00, just about everyone has trickled in. No Yuki or Tamiko yet, and I guess this is too social for Otoya, but otherwise we’re good.

I don’t think they even have a nameplate for Otoya, actually. Did he make these himself? He’s not the most cooperative, but if they only asked him to write some names, I don’t see why he’d say no.

Yuki and Tamiko emerge from the kitchen. Once they’ve taken their seats, Itsurou finally starts hauling out steaming plates and bowls. Now that I think about it, I’m glad he didn’t help with the cooking. He’d just cough all over everything. As it is, the juice is suspect, but I have to drink something.

Well, the entire murder-mystery-guy-helping-with-a-fancy-meal thing is suspect, but I’m tired of worrying. If something happens, I’ll react. Until then, I’ll just try to enjoy my... I stare at the bowl in front of me. What actually are grits? I have no idea. Guess I’ll just have to enjoy them, anyway.

Conversation around the room is a little quiet, and I’d rather not focus on why. Tsunyasha manages to drop her juice glass twice. Kaichi and Kanagi are hitting it off, at least.

“Y’know, I've been wondering...”

“Isn’t the, like, thing on your surfboard kinda weird?”

“Thing?”

“What, like the design? Had it that way for a while, brah.”

Is that how he knows it’s his? I’d imagine he needed a new one at some point after the surgery, but then again I don’t know how often surfboards need replacing.

“No, like... the thing.”

To clarify, she thunks her bare foot on top of the table, setting our plates rattling.

“.......”

I feel like Itsurou and the others didn’t have this in mind for their fancy breakfast.

“Like... the leash?”

He picks up the board and puts it on the table, nearly knocking over his glass.

“.......”

I really shouldn’t have expected anything different.

Kanagi raps her knuckles against the bottom half of the board.

“Yeah, like, there isn’t even a thing.”

“Not right now. But ‘s got a cup ‘n’ everything.”

He grips some kind of bar embedded on the board just past Kanagi’s fingers. I guess the leash is supposed to be tied to that? I also guess “leash” is the term for the thing that hooks onto your foot. Or something. I know nothing about surfing, okay?

Kaichi’s still fiddling with the leash cup when Kanagi finally pulls her bare foot off the tablecloth. And that’s when I hear a loud click. It came from the surfboard, but it’s a loud enough click to rouse the attention of the next table over.

“Whoa!”

Kaichi pulls a thin panel off the front of the board to reveal a small compartment.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a book in here.”

“What do you mean, ‘oh, yeah’?!”

He shrugs and unzips the book from what I assume to be a waterproof pouch secured in there. He scans the cover.

“Journal. Or diary, ‘f you’d rather insult m’ masculinity.”

“What?! Let me see!”

He holds it out of my reach.

“Whoa, brah, slow it down. ‘S kinda personal, don’t y’ think?”

“I’m assuming this is how you maintain some semblance of a memory, not for writing down the names of all your crushes.”

“What, it can’t be both?”

He opens the book to its first page. I peer over his shoulder.

“Gee, thanks, me.”

“I’m sure there are times you’re not aware of it.”

“Hope I'd figure it out wiki wiki. ‘Specially when I find a book I don’t remember in a secret compartment I don’t remember.”

“That’s fair.”

Some of the others have gotten up to see what all the fuss is about.

“What’s the latest in there? Anythin’ ‘bout the killing game?”

“Or just before it?”

“Patience, brahs. Least lemme flip through th’ thing first.”

I let out a breath and push some food around my plate. I’m not full, but I won’t feel like eating until I have some answers, good or bad.

“Ends with some weird rules, n’ stuff ‘bout my leg.”

“So you've updated it since you got here.”

“...And completely forgotten about it again. What’s the point of keeping a journal if you don’t know to check it?”

“Hey, c’mon! ‘S impressive enough t’ have a vague feeling I should keep th’ board with me!”

“Might be as good as it gets, yea.”

“Hummm... What does it say just before that...?”

“Parents getting ‘n apartment lease ‘n Japan for a coupla years.”

“Wanna stay close, I guess.”

“That’s it? Are there any pages ripped out or anything?”

He drags his fingers along the inside seams and flips over to the back half of the notebook.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I...” It’s his personal property. I can’t take it. “Go ahead and take a closer look at that, and let me know if there’s anything odd. A lot of strange things have been going on, so any hints would be great.”

“Gotcha.”

“Wouldn’t the kidnapper’ve totally taken it out if anything was in there, though?”

“Not if they never knew the notebook was in there.”

“I sure wasn’t expecting it.”

I’d rather look through the thing myself, but I guess those records could be pretty personal. I don’t have any right to that information.

But what if it’s fake, and he really is involved in this whole mess somehow? If I could just...

No. I can’t go through his brain. I’ll just have to trust him.

[BACK] [NEXT]

#apexplot #apex3 #fanganronpa

5 notes · View notes

ghostiedoesherbest · 6 years

Text

Coin Flip Challenge Day 5 - Tails

Today’s flip was between a Berserk fic(heads) and an old Supernatural fic that I found in one of my draft books(tails). The coin has spoken. (P.s you can influence a future coin flip by sending me ideas through my ask box)

Sam and Dean were hunting down a creature that was killing people in the Bayou. There was a pattern to each murder. It would start with the victim making crude drawings of the creature, then they would begin to act agitated and paranoid before getting lured out into the forest and their mutilated bodies would be found days later by the police. It didn’t sound like the behavior of anything they’d ever hunted before.

They went to the homes of some of the victims and learned that only one person actually live out in the Bayou anymore. She was a dance teacher for the local high school named Eva Ritter. She lived in a large wooden house that was you needed to use a catamaran to get to.She had been the one finding the bodies during her morning jogs.

“Kind of weird for a dance teacher to live so far from town, don’t you think,” Dean asked his brother, already feeling suspicious of the mysterious woman.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions just yet,” Sam warned as he walked along the dock which led up to a stone walkway that ran up to the front porch.

Sam reached out to knock on the door only for it to swing open to reveal a frantic looking African American woman. Her dark brown eyes widened upon seeing the two hunters before drifting behind them. Before either of them could speak she shoved them aside, “There you are!”

They watched her reach out to what they quickly realized was a really big brown snake that was coiled around one of the support beams behind them. She draped it over her shoulders and the serpent easily adapted to the new surface. Dean shifted uneasily as the reptile’s tongue flicked out while it moved over body. “Uh, Raven Ritter?” he didn’t even care that his voice cracked because his focus was solely on the snake.

Suddenly remembering that she had company, Raven turned t the two large men dressed in suits, “Yes - sorry - that’s me. Can I help you?”

The brothers flashed their fake badges to her, “FBI, we’re here to talk to you about the bodies found around your property.”

Raven immediately sobered and suddenly looked exhausted. “Oh,” her voice was barely above a whisper as tears welled up in her eyes. The snake bumped her cheek once before going back to its slithering as she leaned against the railing on the porch. “What do you want to know?” she sighed, folding her arms as she avoided their gaze,

“Did you notice anything strange about the victims?” Sam asked, earning an incredulous look from the woman.

“They were strewn up in the trees like fucking tinsel, I’m pretty sure that counts as strange,” she snapped with a deep frown.

“Did the victims have any enemies? Anyone that would want to hurt them?” Dean asked.

Raven shook her head, “Not that I know of. Their parents could probably answer that better than I could.”

Dean absently nodded and Sam cleared his throat. “Do you think you can take us to where you found the bodies?”

“Okay, just let me go put this guy back into his enclosure,” Raven disappeared into her home, Dean giving her a wide girth as she passed with the snake.

He pointed a finger at Sam who regarded him with an amused smirk. “Not a damn word.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sam chuckled.

When Raven returned from her home, she was snake free and had tossed a light jacket over her shoulders. “This way,” she said, motioning for the two hunters to follow her. They did so and they took in the magnitude of the land that belonged to the young woman. She didn’t seem to be any older than Sam, so it was suspicious to say the least.

“How’d you manage to get this much land?” Sam asked as they walked on the wooden path built over the swamp. Dean’s eyes roved over the water and would notice the odd log drifting by every now and again.

“Don’t drift too close to the side, you might get dragged down by a gator,” Raven cautioned upon seeing the older Winchester unconsciously drifting toward the railing. She returned her attention to Sam to answer his question. “It got passed down to my grandmother, who gave it to my mother, who gave it to me. I grew up out here.” She had a wistful smile on her face as she explained this to him before the smile abruptly fell as she came to a stop next to a large cypress tree. It stood directly over the pathway and still had blood staining its branches and trunk from where the body had been removed.

“Is there anything else you need? I don’t like being over here any longer than I need to be,” she asked, shifting her weight uneasily.

Sam turned to answer her when he saw something interesting behind Raven’s house. It was a large, oak tree with no leaves and each branch had a colorful bottles hanging from them on white strings. It stuck out like a sore thumb. “That’s an interesting tree you got there.”

Raven furrowed her brows and followed the line of his sight to the tree in question. “Oh that’s just the Bottle Tree. I get my students to write something on a piece of paper - their hopes, issues, prayers - ya know, then we put ‘em in a bottle and hang it from the tree. It’s kind of like a bonding exercise.”

“Were any of the victims one of your students?”

Raven nodded, “Yeah, Davis. He was one of my best students.”

“Can we see some of his bottles? It could help us get some perspective on the case.”

It wasn’t that hard to convince her. “Okay, just let me get my ladder. He liked to put his bottles on the high branches.”

It took some time, but they managed to take all of Davis’s bottles down. Sure enough, in each bottle was a written prayer for help or mercy, alongside the drawings that were exactly like the ones found in the other victims’ belongings. Sam quickly noticed his brother counting the drawings found with each of the victims. “Look at this Sammy,” he called out, taking a swig of beer. “Every vic’s drew the same eight pages before they bit the dust.”

Sam flipped through the papers and found that his brother was right. “Why does that sound familiar?” He went into his bag and started flipping his father’s journal until he finally came to a page about a creature called the Slenderman. It detailed the creature’s hunting habits but there was nothing written about how to kill it. That didn’t bode well. “Dean.”

The older Winchester leaned over his brother’s shoulder to see what’s got him so wound up. His eyes passed over the scrawled text and frowned in confusion. “Dad doesn’t know how to kill this thing?”

“I don’t think he does. It says that it messes with electronics when it’s close and that it might be able to teleport. That’s it,” Sam said in disbelief.

“That can’t be it,” Dean said, taking the journal from his brother as he flipped through it, finding just as much as Sam did. However, he did notice something scribbled at the bottom corner of the almost blank page. “Wait, does that name look familiar?” He asked, tilting the book so that Sam had a better view.

_______________________________________________________________________

Later that night, the brothers were staking out Raven’s house from a boat they’d rented out. They watched her leave her house with a machete in hand and run down the raised wooden path with a solemn expression on her face. They followed her at a safe distance, not wanting to alert her to their presence. They watched her hop over the railing, onto the land below the path. “Where is she going with that?” Sam pondered aloud.

“Probably her next victim,” Dean retorted.

They followed her out to an old, dead cypress tree where she carved a circle into its bark and crossed it out with the machete. The brothers glanced around, thinking that was how she summoned the monster. Almost immediately, there was a pressure building in their heads before they began to hear static that felt like it was rattling their brains. “It seems that we have company.”

They were suddenly lifted up and tossed into the clearing that Raven stood in, having the breath knocked out of them when they landed. The teacher crouched down in front of them, took their arms and cut them with the machete, frowning when they didn’t react beyond a slight hiss of pain. She looked up at the Slenderman, “They’re not shapeshifters,” she said, turning her back to them. The creature tilted its head as is faceless visage regarded the two humans at their feet.

“Shapeshifters?” Sam asked as he scrambled to his feet, nearly slipping on the wet ground as his mind was bombarded with a skull splitting static. He could vaguely hear words among the static but he couldn’t discern what the creature was trying to tell him.

“Dad stop! He can’t handle our language!”

Dean’s head snapped up as he wiped his bleeding nose, “That thing’s your father?”

Raven glared at him, her grip tightening around the hilt of her machete. “That thing has a name. Agents, this is my father, Der Ritter, the Slenderman.”

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #sam winchester #dean winchester #slenderman #slender #coin flip challenge #I love cliffhangers #don't you?

8 notes · View notes

thedreadpirateglitterbeard · 6 years

Text

Corona Park Jams, By Andrew L. Foster. Creative Non-Fiction, 2017

For Your Entertainment, feel free to analyze, make remarks, ignore, enjoy, or otherwise. roughly 1600 words. about a 10 minute read.

Reflected sunrays pierce slightly bloodshot eyes after a night of libations with friends from out of town. The 1995 Buick LeSabre rattled as though it had bricks for engines. My head ached as if I had bricks for brains. The car would have its 21st birthday soon if it hadn’t had its big day already. That was reason enough for us to celebrate. Last night was the celebration of the Buicks birthday and the squeal of its belts was the hangover to the pounding in my mind. We also had friends in from out of town, we can celebrate over anything.

As if Puebloans needed a pretense to party. I allowed myself to be absorbed into the cushy carpeted seats that were tanned a light grey from years of Pueblo desert sunshine. A smile crept across my face and that lonesome sun smiled right back at me. I appreciated the historic boom district appeal contrasted with the “we never recovered from the Great Depression,” patina. Even the quintessential Pueblo dish of a cheeseburger covered in Green Chile known as a “Slopper” was weird mixed with cool. It’s the kind of college town where the community college does better than the university but they both aren’t that great. The rivalry is strong. The feeling of family is stronger. Puebloan’s need little reason to come together but create lots of reasons anyway.

This stop light always catches me. Emilio leaned into the steering wheel, elbow cocked into the open mouth of the driver’s window as the breaks pressed us to a stop. One hand clutched the wheel, fingers tapping the rhythm to a Circle Jerks jam, the other hand connected to his resting elbow brought a smoking cigarette to his open mouth. We were all in our cups last night, but we were “on one” and stocking up for more no-excuse-necessary partying. The green light cleared our passage and Emilio sought after parking.

The Pantry is a Seinfeld-esque dinner, though maybe less cliché, which is a wonderful place to fill the old tum-tum. Abriendo Street hosts a series of Roman revival structures, one or two-story buildings connected business fronts with inset window wells that lead to doorways, pulling walker-bys into shops to search for doo-dads in antique shops with no particular end in mind. We pulled up Michigan St. and parked the bucket in front of Tony and Joe’s Pizzeria. The tree-lined streets are triple wide in the Aberdeen district thanks to General Palmer calling this neighborhood home for many years. His old manse was farther up from the shops, at the first corner. A quick walk to the drugstore that has been there as long as the Corona Park and Bessemer districts, near a century. Autumn trees, gold and green leaves shimmer. The air carries the aroma of old money. We walked to the corner and found The Pantry.

Emilio represents the profile of friendships that have enhanced my life. He is unique. His Style is the more independent and classic profile of punk that could be likened to the clash, early on—before they stopped making music with pretense. No need for spikes or studs, just a simple rejection of the common standard. Emo has tackled deep self-reflection and made pertinent life changes that mirror the development of his personal philosophy. This largely consists of him choosing to be a pescatarian—a bit of a contradiction if you ask me, but I let it slide because I eat everything and have no place to talk. I hold him in high regard because he has introduced me to many Pueblo intellectuals whom I have learned and taught with too great satisfaction. Life’s zest can often be found in good company, good food, and good conversation.

Emilio paid for the half-dozen potatoes, egg, and cheese breakfast burritos. Exiting the maze of The Pantry’s tight corridors, I gave a shout out to a classmate I recognized, Anthony. He is both homeless, employed, and a student in the lowest rent city in Colorado. Anthony gave a friendly smile and went back to bussing tables. We had an ancient civilizations class together, his presentation on the ancient Assyrian warrior caste was excellent and marked him in my mind as brilliant, yet his condition remained troubled. He only came to class 1 out of 3 sessions a week. I suspect this wasn’t due to a lack of heart.

It was ten am and the hot September Sunday was well underway. Emo and I sauntered back towards the whip both donning colorized wayfarer sunglasses, like Millennial Blues Brothers, sent on a mission from God to feed our hungry and hungover friends breakfast. Next stop this morning was Hercules Liquor Store, Agent Orange’s “Bored of You” had the energy flowing through us and the breakfast burrito’s smelled like a cure to disgrace. Emilio reeled the clunker away from The Pantry and the general’s old castle and back into Abriendo’s light Sunday traffic.

Herc’s was just another couple blocks up the way on Colorado Avenue. This drag shared a wine and coffee breakfast bar on the corner, next to the Local 1607 Millwright’s office so the metal works could catch a shiner before meetings with the union. Hercules Liquor and the Historic Firehouse Museum shared an alley. Occasionally I would see familiar faces from the firefighter school working in the museum as I went into Herc’s for an evening brew. They always carried themselves with purpose as I slinked by with little pride. Emilio cut a wide U-turn and pulled us into the alley to park behind the spirits house.

This, a small cramped store was absolutely flush with plenty of beer to choose from and an excellent selection of liquor and wine. Mike and his brother ran the store together, owned by their mother who is suffering from late-stage dementia. Despite this, the boys are always smiling and chatty when they see Emilio and I come in. They like us because we drink like their late Slovakian grandpa. Campari and grappa are two of the commonly stocked items at Herc’s we can’t find elsewhere. Because the brothers are 2nd generation Americans, they still have close ties to their Italian and Slovakian family. They have cousins who live on the Island of Crete where the sculptor Pygmalion’s statue Galatea was granted life by Aphrodite because she was moved by his passionate love for the female statue he created. Just so, the Cretian Grappa Mike sold us was the type of spirit that could awaken marble statues. Grappa is what is left after wine grapes are stomped upon. It tastes vaguely like wine, but primarily like pure alcohol. It does the trick. We left the store flush with cheap beer, cheap whiskey, and a bottle of Grappa which may have been cheap or expensive, but we had yet to find another bottle in town to compare price.

As we parked on the too-narrow street in front of the house, Benjamin wore Adidas classics that had looked as though they had been walked on their whole life. His wiry chair leaned precariously back against the stucco wall while his foot pressed against the ever-loosening banister which enclosed the porch. He had a cigarette in one hand while the other cradled an iPhone near his eyeballs. A three-day beard and unruly bed head alluded to Bens Sunday dishevelment. Benji is a Vancouver Canuck. His mother passed several years prior, not long after Emilio lost his father. The two, and their larger group attended St. Mary’s Catholic for primary school and the bonds shared between my two friends were far deeper than I could estimate being a new inductee to an exclusive group.

Before Emilio and I could walk up the concrete steps Ben was laughing and explain the problems that Trotskian economic theory faced after the Bolshevik Revolution and argued that the Soviets picked the wrong guy in Lenin. I smiled and nodded as if I knew anything about Trotskian political theory. Ben was always expansive in conversation and I admired him deeply for it. The first time Emilio introduced us, my misgiving and mistrust of new people was rendered mute next to the backyard fire pit and eager talking points Ben insisted on sharing with me.

I remember that night, he would hardly let anyone say a word as he often does. I interrupted him as he spoke with conviction on the need to rid the world of paper currency to be replaced with a social exchange program in line with “From each according to their ability, to each according to their need.” I asked him if he always commanded the conversation and if he ever let anyone else speak. I was instantly mortified at my manners but everyone sitting around the fire began to laugh. Ben’s other half said, “No, this is how he always is.” Ben quitted down a bit and we all shared the conversation. We all picked songs on an iPad adorned in a case printed with an ancient world map and took turns playing obscure music while passing the bottle of cheap around. The grainy taste of the whiskey mixed with the fire smoke's aroma, both gently burning our throats. This was the standard weekend for most of two years, good company seasoning our slowly aging lives within the old, worn town that rested in the fading shadows of old wealth.

As the Sunday star dipped below the horizon, we looked out towards La Vida Pass and the Sangre De Cristo mountains. The buzz we shared reached deeply into the earth and for a moment it seemed like all of us were supposed to find each other, as though no matter how big the universe became this moment would persist as both the flash of a meteorite and the timeless life of a lonely sun. As if we needed more reason for us to celebrate.

#creative #nonfiction #writing #short story #authors on tumblr #spilled ink #life #friends

10 notes · View notes

loki-subterfuge · 6 years

Text

CHAPTER 9 S.H.I.E.L.D had two different rooms for photos, so no one but Tony saw Loki transform later that day and he commented on the ride back. “Well that was a total mind fuck. How the hell do you do that and why didn't you never tell me about it?” Loki waggled his brows. “I'm good at that aren't I? I don't know exactly. I simply focus on who I want to change into and it happens.” “Tell me it goes no further than ‘who’s’ as opposed to what's then?” “Are you thinking I may transform into say, hmm..a rhinoceros perhaps that runs wildly amuck amidst your tower? I wouldn't be concerned.” Tony nodded. “Good to know. And my other question?” “Everyone is entitled to their secrets. After being sent back here, I haven't, nor had I intended to use it. Maybe now you might reconsider your trust issues?” “Uh, no. I haven't fully jumped on that bandwagon yet. Your clones and learning of your ability to become invisible ‘and’ teleport were enough of an adjustment to wrap my head around. Even despite Heimdalls existence, I still question where you are half the time.” While talking, Tony stopped to turn and was watching some pedestrians cross the street from his driver side window. He glanced back at the passenger seat and Loki had vanished. “Quit fucking around Cactus!” Loki reappeared in the back seat with a devilish grin. “Did you miss me?” “If it wasn't for your extremely unique abilities, you wouldn't be going on this mission, so don't push your luck. It's a good thing my windows are tinted too. That elderly couple might've gone into cardiac arrest seeing that.” Shandi hadn’t wanted Tony to question her ability as a team player and so had denied any reluctance to work with Loki. Living in the tower with him was challenging enough with her erotic dreams and the bothersome affect he constantly had on her, yet there she still had retrieve. That was about to disappear and another erotic dream prior to leaving only rattled her nerves further. ~~~~~ For entertainment purposes, Tony had arranged a costume party for some upper crust military friends, along with several other socialites and rented out the top floor of a fancy hotel for the occasion. Shandis pent up sexual frustration with Loki had been brimming beneath her skin for months now and his was almost feral. The prior day, thinking they were alone in the building, he'd finally had enough and cornered her in the pool. They'd engaged in some kissing and sensual touching until noises from the men's change room caused Loki to swim away, right before Steve entered. Shandi had managed to avoid him until running so late, he volunteered to escort her to the hotel after everyone went ahead. She waited at the elevator and when catching sight of him, felt her knees waver and a shiver down her spine. He was dressed as a vampire and damn if she'd ever seen anyone else wear it better. Add that to the magnetizing gaze he had on her and all her brain could process was ‘eeby geeby sceeby weeby.’ Reaching her, he chuckled at her get up. “A Key Stone Cop? This made you run late?” “Oh shuddup. Some buttons fell off at the dry cleaners and were sewn onto another costume by mistake. Luckily, they noticed and fixed it.” The door opened and when they stepped in, she stood opposite him, purposely avoiding his eyes. ‘Fuck he looks hot.’ She thought. Seconds later, she responded. “Will you stop looking at me like that?” He grinned devilishly, eyeing every inch of her. “Do you mean like I want to devour you?” “Look, yesterday was..was a mistake and shouldn't have happened.” She nervously replied. Ignoring her, he continued. “As though I desire to eat you alive like a crazed beast until you're begging me to stop, perhaps?” ‘Yep. I'm dead.’ She thought. They reached the main floor and when she stepped towards the door, it wouldn't open. Loki moved behind her, nuzzling into her hair. “I can smell your arousal Pet.” He huskily whispered. “This isn't over.” He retreated and when it opened, she replied in haste. “Yes it is.” Then she darted towards the main doors and into the awaiting limo. Loki followed, smiling upon entry to see her nestled against the opposite side. As they pulled away, he looked to the driver. “Privacy please? We've something to discuss.” The driver nodded and a black shield rose, separating the three. “We've nothing to talk about.” He slid next to her, almost pressing her against the door. “You're a pain, you know that?” He wouldn't budge so she stared out the window. “Fine, stay there. At least the ride isn't long.” He traced the tips of his fingers along her thigh and she gripped his wrist. “I said it was over Loki.” She whispered. “And I said it isn't.” He smoothly replied. She opened her mouth to protest and he took her lips in a lengthy, heated kiss that left her throbbing. “You umm..as I've said before, flatter yourself.” “I see.” He smiled deviously. “Why don't I flatter you instead then?” Shifting suddenly, he pulled her back on top of him and in seconds, removed her hat, wrapped his leg around her thighs and had her wrists bound together with magic. “Loki!” She loudly whispered, squirming within his grip. “Are you trying to alert the driver?” He calmly asked. “I will if you don't let go.” “Very well. I'll use more magic to render you naked and push the shield button then.” She gasped when her pants disappeared, exposing her black laced panties. “Oh my. Did you wear those for me darling? How sweet of you.” “No you ass and where the hell are my pants?” She asked. “As you wish.” He reached for the button and her eyes widened. “No don't!” Wrapping an arm beneath hers, he snaked it around her ribs while his free hand slid beyond her panties. “What are you…” His long, slender fingers slid beyond her folds and began exploring. “Shhhh..listen carefully Pet. I'm go to tease your sweet cunt until driving you to almost madness. So lay back..relax..and enjoy the ride Shandi. You aren't going anywhere until I'm done.” His voice alone was pure sin, but how he played her flesh like an instrument of his expertise soon had her writhing. Loki smirked when she bit her bottom lip, trying to remain quiet and moaned against her ear. “Mmmm. Does that feel good?” He dipped suddenly into her entrance and she dropped her head back with a breathless moan. “Oooh, I'd say that's a yes.” “I really...don't like you Loki.” “I know.” He teasingly crooned. “Aren't I terrible?” His fingers went deeper with a come hither motion and when she tried moving in unison, he pinned her still. “You don't have permission to cum yet.” Shandis brow furrowed. “Wh..what?” He increased speed, nipping at her neck, wallowing in her sounds becoming louder. “You heard me and by the time I give it, you'll be begging me to fuck you.” ~~~~~ Luckily Shandi had packed everything the day before, well, everything accept her vibrator which mysteriously refused to work when she woke. This granted her just enough time for a frazzled search of one last item which only heightened her agitation. As a result, a long drive with Loki wasn't too appealing as she headed for the elevator. Tony had asked everyone to be there for nine in disguise, but Loki showed as himself. “Really Cactus?” “Relax Tin Lips, you know it takes me seconds. I’ll do it before I get in the car.” Disguised too, Tony sighed and continued. “Sorry for the inconvenience guys. I know it's a few hours drive, but we can't risk being recognized at anytime.” They entered the elevator and as Loki moved to the back, Tony smirked at Clint. “Has anyone ever told you you're funny lookin’ for an old fart?” “Has anyone ever told you you're funny lookin’ as a bald man with a potbelly and a zz top beard?” Tony nodded. “I deserved that. I can take it.” Nat and Shandi smirked as the elevator door opened to the underground parking and everyone stepped off. Tony began leading them to their appointed vehicles without alerting anyone Loki had transformed during the ride. Clint was the first to notice and took a double take. “Holy shit dude, that's just.. freaky!” “I agree.” Said Nat. “Easy on the eyes though.” Clint frowned at her. “Seriously?” “The name is Clifford. Pleased to meet you Mrs. Shriner.” His voice was the same, but his accent different and Shandi kept staring at him. “Cat your tongue Elizabeth?” He glanced at Nat then back to her. “Sadly, this form isn't as handsome as my other, but it will have to do.” Tony cleared his throat while tossing him a set of keys. “Thank you Cactus of vanity. Fuck up…” “...Your Jag and I'm back in Asgard. I know.” Said Loki. You've repeated that many times already.” Tony then tossed the keys to a black, Dodge Ram to Clint. “Are you kidding me? He gets the Jag and we get this?” “He owns a lucrative advertising company and you're a retired military Sergeant.” Said Tony. Nat snatched them from his hand. “If you're going to whine, you can always sit outside.” Tony walked towards the U Haul truck. “Bearded man loves you Toots. Okay people, lets motor.” Shandi kept staring at Loki as they entered the Jag. “He'll grow on you darling, you'll see.” “Oh? How's that supposed to work when you haven't yet as yourself?” He sighed heavily while starting it up. “Married less than twenty four hours and she's breaking my heart already.” “Just drive will you?” They stopped at their first set of lights and he gave her a quick glance. “Not bad for a potbellied redhead.” “I’m not potbellied, that's Tony remember? I'm supposed to be pregnant?” “If you say so.” He drove a few blocks before speaking again. “You know despite being so, I don't recall any heated moments of us consummating this marriage.” ‘Dork.’ She thought. “And you won't in the future either. Keep driving.” “Well then.” He sarcastically replied. "That could only mean two things darling.” She rolled her eyes. “Alright. If it appeals to your childish amusement ‘Clifford,’ I'll bite. What might they be?” “Pshh, honestly Elizabeth. I hardly find you being a shameless tart and that baby not being mine, amusing.” “Seriously? Are you going to be an ass the entire drive?” “Oh oh. I do hope you stole more of the bosses coffee to ease your moodiness. I've heard that's a common problem amongst pregnant Midgardians.” “And unlucky for me, this ones stuck siring your offspring.” In a huff, she put on some headphones, closed her eyes and turned her head towards the window. Loki snickered to himself. ‘Nice try, but I know you like me.’ Shandi carried on managing to ignore him and almost two hours into the ride, Tony pulled into a service station for refreshments. The ladies gave theirs to Loki and Clint who waited in the vehicles while they used the washroom. Five minutes later, Nat came out alone and went to Loki. “Shandi needs her suitcase.” “What for?” “Nevermind. Where is it?” “In the truck.” Tony got out as she approached the back door. “Something wrong?” Curious, Loki and Clint followed, overhearing their conversation. Nat then stuffed what Shandi needed into a bag, went back in and another ten minutes passed before the two reemerged. Once they were on the road again, Loki eyed her and started cackling. Shandi glared at him. “Oh come on!” She reached for her phone and he took it. “That's mine, give it back!” She snapped. “Oh my, take it easy.” He calmly stated. “You should know it wasn't done on purpose. She was explaining it to Tony when Clint and I overheard.” “Fine.” She coolly replied. “My phone please?” Returning it, he continued. “She did sympathize with you. I on the other hand..found it rather amusing. Do you think peeing your pants will happen more frequently when sporting the bigger bellies?” “Excuse me? I did not pee myself. I couldn't see properly so it leaked into my pant leg.” “My point exactly.” Now she was mad. “Tell me something Loki. When was the last time ‘you’ tried squatting over a public toilet to pee without being able to see things down there?” He glanced at her, slyly. “I've ‘never’ had a problem seeing things down there.” “Okay, I am done talking you for the rest of this drive.” “May I still talk to you though?” Ignoring him, she tucked her phone into her bra before putting her headphones back in. “Touch my phone again and I'll tell Tony you groped my tits.” “But what if it rings and you're asleep? It could be an emergency.” She frowned and he chuckled. “Lovely stink eye you have Elizabeth.” Turning on her music, she closed her eyes and looked away from him again. ‘Of all the stupid times to have my best vibrator conk out. Thank god I found my Hitachi before leaving.’ When reaching the outskirts of town, they stopped on a quiet side road and Tony gave Clint and Nat an envelope with some pictures and maps in it before sending them on their way. Loki and Shandi followed him and soon came to a narrow country road that lead them amidst some woods. They drove up a partially winding hill, eventually turning onto a hidden driveway and Shandi was awed as a lovely stone dwelling came into view. It was built partially into the cliffs, surrounded by tall bushes and small flowered gardens and they stopped on the gravel driveway, before it's doors. Tony smiled at her expression, while helping her from the car. “I gather you likey Doll?” She stared beyond him at the extended view of the Hudson River, then smiled back. “Tony. This is beautiful.” Loki had gotten out and was looking around as well. “I must say Tin Lips, she's right.” “It's a great escape close to home. Pepper and I have enjoyed it a few times, even in the winter. We'd arrive and leave late at night and with it being so secluded, were never disturbed.” “Sounds nice.” Said Shandi. “Is there much to do here the winter?” “I couldn't tell ya Doll. We were sort of..you know. Busy doing inside things?” Her face flushed. “Ohh.” Loki was standing nearby and couldn't help himself. “He means they were hiding his ‘metal rod.’” Tony pursed his lips at her expression as she replied to Loki sarcastically. “I know what he means, thank you.” “You did appear uncertain at first, so I thought I'd clear it up for you.” Tony unlocked the door then looked at Shandi. “I can show you that balcony first if you like?” He began a tour and there was a cozy, French country feel on the inside with some antique architecture and Shandi loved the welcoming atmosphere of it. For Loki, it was a far cry from a palace, but much bigger than his apartment and for that he was grateful. At least he'd have some access to the outdoors now too. Tony opened the back door which lead to a pool. “For obvious reasons, the usual pool person was not hired this summer, so I had our guy come by and open this up. He won't be returning unless there's a major problem, but left instructions for its cleaning and care.” He looked at Loki. “I'm delegating the job to you as the one who'll use it.” “Can't I too?” Asked Shandi. As their stay may linger, Tony reminded her that at no time could they risk being recognized. “Both of you both must always be in disguise before stepping out the door, or even opening the window coverings, so I assumed you'd be in yours most of the day. Later at night when your free of it, help yourself. Just be sure all the main lights are out. Also remember you're Cactus sitting as he's not permitted to leave the premises without you. The pool gives him an outlet so he doesn't drive you bananas.” ‘Too late for that.’ She thought. Tony continued. “The grounds and gardens were recently tended to by a S.H.I.E.L.D agent who once did landscaping, but as you've had some experience with this Shandi, you know the basics of the rest.” “Yep.” He looked at Loki again. “She’ll explain the other jobs required she can't do, being pregnant. ‘You’ must remember no using magic while performing outdoor tasks for…” “The risk of that being seen too.” Said Loki. “I know.” “Good. Shandi has claimed the master bedroom with the jacuzzi tub ensuite. You may choose one of the other's, after we've unpacked the truck.” Shandi remained inside, putting away the few groceries they'd brought, then started on other immediate necessities. Her disguise was getting hot with the weather being so humid and it would take time for the air conditioning to fully kick in. Loki and Tony entered the kitchen for a drink and found her sitting at the table, looking flushed. “You alright?” Asked Tony. “Yeah. I've heard it said being pregnant is like having an oven in your belly. I think I understand that now.” He winked at her quickly, then frowned at Loki. “What's wrong witchu you?” “What?” He asked. “You had to knock her up in the summer?” He backhanded him in the gut. “Rude!” Loki smirked, following him out of the room. “Hey man, she seduced me. I'm innocent.” “And I'm supposed to believe that? In your dreams Cactus.” Shandi slid a hand down her face. ‘Oh god.’ She thought. ‘Of all the things to say boss.’ Once everything was inside, Tony gave them the same envelope as Nat and Clints, then handed over the keys. “Okay kids, you know what to do. I've a long drive home.” He hugged Shandi and when she headed upstairs, gestured to Loki to follow him outside. They entered the cabin of the U Haul truck and Tony immediately turned on the air conditioning. “Whoever invented that was almost as smart as me. Okay Cactus, listen. I know I've repeatedly made things very clear regarding your requirements and my expectations of you for this mission, so I won't waste more time repeating them. However, I do hope you obey and respect them considering the ramifications for everyone involved, including yourself.” Loki offered a handshake. “I will Tony, I give you my word.” Tony glanced between his eyes and hand, sighing before accepting it. “Good, but there's one more thing. Shandis great sense of humor allowed me to kid earlier, but I've seen the way you look at her. Like you, she's here to do a job Loki, not for your amusement or ‘entertainment,’ so you treat her with respect. Is that also clear?” “Yes Tony, it is.” “Okay, get out then. You're dismissed and may return to your pregnant wife.” Loki left, re entering the house. “I'm home Elizabeth. Where art thou?” “Nowhere you need to be ‘Clifford.’” He chuckled while climbing the main stairs when her bedroom door slammed. “Come now, can't you play nice?” “With you? Not a chance in hell.” She shouted back. Removing his disguise, he unpacked a bit, then knocked at her door. “By the way, I've taken the room opposite you.” ‘Great.’ She thought. Two minutes later, he knocked again. “And before I forget darling, be warned. I like sleeping naked and with the door open.” Seconds later, she was at his door. “Why have you chosen this room? Why not the one down the hall, or..or the guest bedroom off the side of the house?” “It's the only other bedroom with an ensuite.” He replied. “At least be happy you have the jacuzzi tub.” “I saw it first.” “It's fine. Like I said, be happy.” A sly smile overtook him. “Or do you plan to be unruly your entire pregnancy?” “Unruly?” She angrily retorted. “Stuck with ‘you’ as a spouse, how can I not be?” They locked eyes and with his hands behind his back, Loki slowly began sauntering towards her. Shandi firmly stood her ground, attempting to remain stoic, but his keen peripheral vision noted the steady pulse increase on her neck. He stilled only inches away and she hated how the rich, velvety tone he spoke in, sent a tingle down her spine. “Are you going to tell me what your problem is, or am I to simply guess?” “I don't like you.” She calmly replied. He nodded subtly. “Very well. Obviously it was a mistake letting you seduce me then.” Shandi backed away and shut the door in his face. “Your wanton ways weakened my chaste defences however and now we're stuck with each other.” ‘Much to my dismay.’ She thought. “You've gone awfully quiet darling. Have I overly offended you?” “Nope. I’m just texting Nat to see if she'll help me murder you is all.” “No you're not.” “And how would you know Loki?” “You left your phone on the kitchen table?” She opened the door and he was standing where she'd left him, still smirking at her. “You really ‘are’ an ass you know that?” Loki returned to his task and Shandi brought a sandwich to her room, shutting the door again. Around an hour later, she received a text. “Shall we head out for ten tomorrow?” “Whatever. Ten it is.” She replied. A few minutes later. “Shandi.” “‘What’ Loki?” “I was only teasing. I hope the remainder of your day turns out better than it seems to have started.” She recalled saying that to him, yet hadn't thought it registered considering the mood he was in that day. Later, when she fell asleep, Loki entered her room. ‘I suppose being less of an ass would help you focus more on this mission and I did assure Tony I'd treat you respectfully.’ He quietly entered her closet, placing his hand over the carry bag her Hitachi was hidden in and a green mist engulfed it. ‘He never said anything about your belongings, however. And when you come to me, and you ‘will’ come to me, nothing will save you from my prowess.’ Right before leaving, he placed his lips only inches from her ear and brazenly whispered. “Sweet dreams. ‘Pet.’”

2 notes · View notes