#when i have a pause the first chimera is always terrible anyway

[chimeride]

[averykedavra]

“I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!” logince? no pressure if you can't but if you can i look forward to reading it!

(Em, I know I’m answering this, but you better not read this ‘cause you said you’d be offline. You’re forbidden. Go do work now. And yes, this is really long, and yes I should have spread my work out to other prompts, but here I am.)

Words: 7922

Despite everything, this wasn’t even the worst errand that Janus had sent Logan on.

That would be the harpy feathers, which had taken three weeks and three cut fingers to obtain. Or perhaps the dragon scales--the ones the merchant tried to sell Logan were fakes, forcing him to track down the culprit before sundown. Or perhaps the chimera egg, because chimera eggs didn’t exist. No matter if Janus insisted that Logan should be ‘open to the possibility.’

So, yes, this errand wasn’t the worst of them all. However, it was still up there. Another horrible day to add to his never-ending laundry list. And he had a feeling this would go farther downhill than he expected, because they always did.

Especially when dealing with other witches.

“The spell can’t work without it,” Janus had said, barely paying attention. He was occupied with shaking his magic quill until it stopped replacing es with os. “Be back by dinner.”

Logan had pled, bargained, and complained as much as he could. But Janus, as always, said something about “building character” and “honing his skills” and shoved him out the door. So Logan gathered up his cloak, his pride, and headed for the port.

The one upside of such ridiculous errands was seeing the outside. He usually spent his time studying in the cottage or the garden, but when he reached the foot of the mountain, the port sprawled in front of him. Roads teeming with visitors, some in clothing of nearby villages, others in richer colors than anyone could drain from local berries. Beneath the sphinx-grey sky, the boats flanked the water, masts bristling into the sky and sails full and white like wings.

Logan allowed himself a few moments to stare. To drink in the sounds--languages he didn’t recognize, babbling like brooks--and the smell of baking bread and fresh fabric. A cry blossomed from one dock as a ship slid into the harbor, sails flying, just come back from the sea.

Then a bicycle flew past Logan, splattered his boots with mud, and successfully yanked him back into the real world. He shook himself, checked his candle--it had burned down to the first notch, blue flame merry even in the wind--and set off.

Janus hadn’t given him a map, as usual, and Logan didn’t have the time or the moonlight for a tracking spell. He knew he was aiming for the area near the warehouses, though, and he’d definitely know a coven when he saw it.

Probably. Maybe. It had been a while.

Logan kept to the edges of the crowds. The sun wasn’t too piercing today, but he was still a bit warm in his cloak. He could have gone without it, of course, but it had pockets. Janus would start a lecture if he heard Logan was going without his materials. Still, as he began to get strange glances, he wished he’d just tried to shove everything into his pocket. Most people seemed to simply be curious why he was a bit overdressed. A few, though, looked suspicious enough to make Logan press closer to the buildings.

As he hoped, he knew the door when he saw it. The building somehow managed to list in both directions simultaneously, and when Logan looked closer at it, it folded into itself and tried to avoid detection. Logan pumped his fist in triumph and jumped across a ditch to the door.

It was an old oak door. Logan looked around in the vain hope that Janus would appear and offer directions--he was already feeling cold and uneasy on the stoop. Someone was definitely watching him. Or maybe it was just fear of the stories he’d been told as a kid.

Funny, that he was still scared of witches when he was one. But he was only in training, and there was a difference between witches and witches. Janus said it best. “One is trustworthy,” he’d say, “and two’s company. But three’s a crowd and four’s a coven. If you’re outnumbered, run the other way.”

Logan craned his neck up and peered at the dark, musty windows. How much was he outnumbered right now? Could he still bolt before they spotted him?

Janus would be insufferable if Logan came back empty-handed. And Janus was a jerk and a prick and a bit of a terrible mentor, but he wouldn’t actually lead Logan into danger. At least, Logan hoped not.

Logan swallowed, looked back at the door, and reached for the bronze knocker.

Then the bronze shifted and a mouth snapped at him. He yelped and stumbled back. A bronze toad blinked at him, the knocker between its legs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” complained the toad, beady eyes squinting. Logan stepped a bit further away. “Are you casing the joint? Hey!”

“No!” Logan made a shushing motion. “I’m--I’m just here to talk to someone, don’t--be quiet!”

“Stranger,” the toad said, giving him a belligerent look. “You haven’t been invited.”

“Can I go in anyway?”

“No.”

“Can I talk to someone other than a sentient door knocker?”

“No.”

Logan decided to go for it anyway. He braced himself, reached between the frog’s legs, and pulled up the knocker. When he let it fall, it made a deep thumping noise, so close to thunder that Logan checked the sky to see if it was raining. When he looked back, the frog had pulled itself into a ball again. It was silent, save for the distant yells of sailors as ships pulled in and out of port.

“Hello?” Logan finally said. “I’m not going to just stand here all evening.”

Nothing responded.

He pulled at the knocker again and let it fall. Then he knocked several times on the door, and for good measure, kicked it. It hurt his foot. He could probably bust through the door if he had half an hour and phoenix tears, but as it was, he was resolutely locked out. Ugh.

He kicked the door again. It still hurt. He didn’t know why he expected otherwise.

Just as Logan was about to experiment with climbing through a window, someone yelled “Hold on, jeez, don’t bust the door down!”

Logan whipped his hand behind his back to look as though someone else had done the banging. After a few seconds, the door swung open abruptly. “What is it?”

“Uh,” said Logan, who had been planning for a myriad of things. He had not expected a teenager around his age, looking at him like he was an annoying solicitor. “Hi?”

“Hi,” the person repeated. “Do you need something, or--”

“Uh,” Logan said again. He wished he’d planned more thoroughly for this. “You guys have a kraken, right?”

“Yeah?” Their eyes widened a bit in realization. “Oh, okay, you’re not here about the rent.”

“No,” Logan said. “Is that a concern for you?”

“Half the reason we put the stupid frog up there in the first place.” The person--witch? Maybe? They were definitely something, Logan knew that much, but it was hard to tell in the shadows and their magic didn’t feel like a witch’s--rolled their eyes. “Anyway. What’s up with the kraken?”

“I was wondering if you had any spare tentacles?” Logan asked. “My mentor, J--” Crap, wait, no names. Names had power. What was Janus’ usual pseudonym? “Dee, he needs a tentacle for a spell, and he sent me to ask you for some.”

Well, more aptly, Janus had sent him to “get one, legally or not.” Logan decided not to mention that part.

“Oh!” The person nodded. “Yeah, bad luck--nobody’s home right now.”

“What?”

“The whole coven’s out,” they explained, leaning on the doorframe and tugging at their tunic. “Today’s the day that ship comes back from the northern islands, and everyone wants to see if there’s any lead on those siren theories. It’s been planned for weeks, didn’t Dee tell you?”

“He never tells me anything,” Logan said shortly. Although, he wondered if Janus had purposely sent him to the coven on an empty day. That didn’t bode well for the friendliness of the coven on a non-empty day. “What should I do?”

“Hm.” The person thought for a second, running a hand through their hair. The doorway was so shadowed that it looked like a portal. “I’m not really supposed to let anyone in. I’m holding down the fort, and I’d like to do a good job of standing guard--” They did a little flourish of the hand. “But I could hardly turn away such a petitioner as yourself!”

“I don’t suppose you have any tentacles on hand?” Logan suggested. “You could hand them through the door.”

“Don’t think so,” they said with a wince. “We barely ever harvest them, since it tends to go--poorly.”

Logan tried very carefully to not think about what that meant.

The person glanced into the house, then back at Logan. “Look. I feel bad about letting you leave empty-handed, but I’m really not supposed to let you in, so you’re going to have to be really quick, okay?”

Logan nodded fervently. “Very quick.”

“Fantastic!” They clapped their hands and stepped back into the house. “So, uh, follow me? And don’t touch anything.”

With only a slight pause and a glance at his candle--almost three notches burned through already--Logan entered the coven’s house.

The door slammed shut behind him.

It was dark. He paused before pulling out his candle, but nobody seemed to be upset, so he held it up. Blue light danced along the walls. The wallpaper was peeling, but the carpet was freshly vacuumed, and a vase of daisies balanced on a coffee table. Logan lifted his candle higher and caught the glimmer of spiderwebs, the gleam of stairs to a second floor, and a rustling between a few of the floorboards.

“Maggots or rats?” Logan asked, to judge the probability of the floor collapsing beneath them.

“Maggots,” they said nonchalantly. “Aine keeps some.”

Logan decided to step more carefully.

“Oh!” The person stopped in the middle of the foyer. “Oh, I’m a terrible host, you can’t even see! Hold on!”

A scurrying of shadows, and then the chandelier flared to life. The flames were bright red and dripped along with the wax, a few drops hissing when they hit the carpet far below. Now Logan could see the whole house, with a polished banister wrapping past the stairs and to the second floor. There was a small back door, a few cupboards, and a glimpse of a dining room. It was all dark wood, or maybe that was the red light, that clashed with Logan’s candle and made it a bruised purple.

Movement made Logan look up. Next to the chandelier was the person from before. They smiled and waved at him, before somersaulting off the stairs and landing easily on the carpet.

“Sorry,” they said. “Didn’t realize you couldn’t see. Is that better?”

Logan stared at them. “Did you just jump off the--”

And then his eyes finally adjusted to the light. And then Logan finally--finally, he heard in Janus’ voice, are you really that unobservant--noticed.

A nice smile with bright eyes and a stub nose. Hair that needed a cut, with tufts sticking out in the back. One hand casually leaning on the stairs, the other waving the match until it went out. Smoke coiled from their hand--a hand too smooth and too bony, like someone had just pulled skin over bones and called it a day. A nice smile and pure white eyes.

“Ah,” Logan said, feeling very, very stupid. Because now that he was paying attention, he could feel it, the gentle thrum of magic nearby. But not a rustle like Janus’, or even an unfamiliar flash like the witches he glimpsed in markets. A constant, cold weight in his stomach, like ballast on a ship. “You’re--ah.”

“My name’s Roman,” said Roman, looking barely fazed. “He/him. And I can tell you that, because I’m not all fancy and cagey with my name like all of you!”

“Roman,” Logan repeated. “Nice to meet you, Roman.”

“The pleasure is mine as well!” Roman gestured for him to follow. “Now come on, before everyone gets back.”

Logan nodded and followed, his candle flame shivering. The more he stepped away from the door, the more he felt the cold settling in his bones. Roman didn’t seem to notice, though, because he jumped cheerfully from floorboard to floorboard. When he caught Logan looking, he smiled, as if this was fun. Logan did not find it fun. Logan wished for it to be over.

“Here we are,” Roman said, tugging open a cupboard door. Instead of silverware, Logan saw a long tunnel. “Basement!”

“Basement,” Logan repeated. He supposed no one could keep a kraken in the living room. “Are you coming with me?”

“Yeah, no way you’d know what to do otherwise!” Roman grinned at him. “I’m your tour guide.”

Logan huffed. “I’d know what to do.”

“Sure you would.” Roman turned away, his grin fading to a smirk. “Your collar’s inside out.”

“Wh--is not!” Logan looked down and back up. “It isn’t!”

Roman laughed and stepped into the tunnel. The distant light framed him, making his skin gleam waxy. “Coming?”

Logan huffed again, gathered his cloak to keep it from dragging on the wet stone, and followed.

The tunnel was cramped. Roman led the way, jumping expertly from rock to rock, and Logan struggled to keep up. His blue candle lit the place in an eerie glow. When he tried to listen for sounds, he could hear nothing except a distant lapping of waves, which made his stomach turn.

He tripped, dropped a packet of laurel, and bent to grab it. Roman paused and waited with barely disguised mockery until Logan had gathered his things again.

“Shut up,” Logan said, even though Roman hadn’t said anything.

“You’re pretty small for a witch,” Roman said, turning back around. “Should you really be messing with this stuff?”

“Like I said, it was Dee’s idea.” Logan tried to hurry after him. “I’d much rather not be in a tunnel right now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Roman sucked in a breath and let it out. “Look, I’d just--if I were you, I’d start trying to master necromancy, because you are absolutely doomed.”

“Am not,” Logan decided to say instead of panicking.

“Are too!” Roman fired back over his shoulder. “Now hurry up, we haven’t got all day, witch boy.”

“We’re the same age, Roman!”

“I’m taller than you!”

Logan bit back a retort and just tried to hurry. He tripped several more times, and Roman gave him a judgmental look. Logan tried to return it. As they approached the end of the tunnel, though, his anger was less and less strong. It was slowly replaced with apprehension.

Roman didn’t seem nervous. Although, Logan admitted, he didn’t know the guy well enough to be sure. He trusted Roman on instinct--maybe because he liked his smile, or because if he decided not to, this entire situation became more perilous by tenfold.

“You’re not going to kill me,” Logan decided to confirm. “Right?”

“What? No!” Roman laughed. “I would never do that.”

“And...”

“And I can’t say the same of anyone else here,” Roman said. “Or the lovely kraken you’ve decided to pay a visit to.”

Logan swallowed.

Roman kept walking ahead of him, and Logan tried to focus on anything except the house far behind them and the water ahead of them. Roman. He moved with smoothness, like candlewax dripping from a chandelier, but his joints often jerked in ways Logan didn’t believe were natural. His skin reflected Logan’s candle, and he seemed just slightly left of a living person. Just too perfect, and just too not.

When he was a kid, Logan heard stories about creations that fell apart mid-motion, a pile of limbs in the street. He hated that he could see exactly where it would happen--the joints jammed together, an ugly seam line, easy to break. He felt a bit like he was next to a fragile vase. One bump, and he’d find out what exactly Roman had been made of.

Candlewax, probably. That was a common one. Or wood, for a sturdier frame, and sometimes cloth. Janus told him about a glass one once. Logan could barely imagine the power that usually went into them--one witch was trustworthy, two was company, three was a crowd. Four was enough to make life from nothing.

Logan had found the whole thing fascinating. Until now, when he was following Roman through the tunnel, and beginning to think about it a bit too hard.

Roman was about Logan’s age. He must have grown just like Logan. He was probably registered as Roman Galatea--most were--if he legally existed at all. And Logan felt so horrible about even thinking like that, because it seemed to rob Roman of his personhood, except he didn’t really have any--except he clearly did, except--

Janus didn’t use those kinds of spells. He’d never created anything like that. Logan asked him, once, if it was dark magic.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Janus had told him, which was how most of his lectures started. “There’s no such thing as dark magic. There’s just magic.”

“Sounds like something a dark magician would say.”

Janus had sighed. “Some people would call creating life ‘dark magic,’ yes. I wouldn’t, because as stated above, I think it’s all stupid.”

Logan had paused. “You don’t do it, though.”

“Of course not.” Janus smirked. “There’s enough life in the world without me adding to it.”

And now Logan was here, approaching a kraken and somehow more scared of the only other living thing in the house.

And then Roman told him to hurry up, and Logan rolled his eyes, and he easily fell back into being annoyed by a kid his age. Maybe it meant something, how easy it was. Maybe it didn’t.

Maybe he was overthinking this to a ridiculous degree, because they’d just met and Roman didn’t even know his name.

“Almost there,” Roman said, pulling Logan from his thoughts. “Do you have a plan?”

“A plan?” Logan blinked. “Get a tentacle?”

A long pause. “Okay, look, I want to support you in your dreams and all, but--”

“But that’s a stupid plan?”

“But it was nice knowing you.”

Logan rolled his eyes again. They already felt sore from all the rolling. “I do have skills--”

“Not saying you don’t,” Roman said, in a tone that showed he was saying that Logan didn’t. “So do I. Doesn’t mean I do stupid things like charge in to face a kraken alone.”

“I have you.”

Roman snickered. “I’m not going to be much help, unless you want to be serenaded while you die painfully.”

“True,” Logan said. “Or you could murder me.”

“I’m trustworthy!”

“Are you?”

“Yes!” Roman pouted. “You’re the one who I don’t trust. Never trust a witch, you know.”

“You can trust witches,” Logan said, feeling a bit hurt. “One witch is trustworthy, and two is company.”

“And who says that?”

“Witches--” Logan paused. “I see your point.”

Roman laughed. “Hurry up, trustworthy witch boy.”

Logan hiked up his cloak. Despite his best efforts, the hem was entirely soaked with water. The bottom of the tunnel was getting steadily wetter as they traveled, splashing water as he walked, and he wondered how on earth such a long tunnel could exist under one house.

He asked Roman that, and Roman laughed. “We’re under the sea right now!”

“We’re what?” Logan was ashamed of the way his voice squeaked. “Is that safe?”

“Yeah, we’re deep down in the rock!” Roman held out a hand and a drop of water hit his palm. It skidded off the waxy surface. Logan almost jumped away from it when it fell. “Relax, you’ll be fine.”

Logan was far less certain. He had known a kraken was a water-dwelling creature, but he’d expected a small pond. Or, hopefully, a dry drawer with tentacles inside. He hadn’t planned for an entire ocean over his head. Logan shoved the image of drowning from his head--he was doing a lot of repression today, he noticed--and soldiered after Roman.

Before Logan could even ask Roman to slow down and possibly reassure him that they were not going to die, the tunnel finally opened up. Logan’s candle shuddered--four notches already, more than halfway burned through--and he stepped into the kraken’s cave.

Cave was the only word for it. It was a cylindrical hole in the rock, ten times taller than Logan, with stalactites bristling on the walls, cold and grey as icicles. A pool of dark water sat beneath them--a perfect circular disk, with small waves lapping at the stone. A few paths were hewn roughly into the rock. It smelled like brine and old fish at the market and Janus’ boots when he forgot to clean them. Roman plugged his nose.

And ten feet below them, a tentacle rested on an outcrop of rock. Ugly green, horrifically slimy, and with suckers the size of Logan’s palm.

“Good,” Logan said, trying to find some silver lining in this situation. “That should be simple.”

“Shh!” Roman’s hand clapped over Logan’s mouth. It was surprisingly warm, just like a normal hand, and Logan found himself distracted. “Come on, if it’s sleeping, you do not want to wake it up.”

“Okay, okay!” Logan batted Roman’s hand away. “I get it, Roman.”

“If you say so.” Roman stepped back towards the tunnel, which was a gaping hole in the rock. It looked like a mouth. Like a kraken’s mouth, in fact, and Logan was going to stop thinking now. “Well? Go ahead!”

“Right,” Logan said, wishing he knew a spell to summon confidence. He took a deep breath, tried to ignore the crushing weight of water above him, and tiptoed forward. Almost immediately, his foot skidded on the damp rock. He barely managed to keep his balance. Behind him, Roman laughed.

“Hey!” Logan complained. “You said be quiet!”

“Who’s the one talking now?”

Logan threw up his hands and turned around. Thankfully, the dark water was still as a mirror. The tentacle lolled on the rocks. He just needed to creep down, cut it off, and creep back up! Which, of course, relied on the kraken sleeping through the loss of a body part, but maybe krakens weren’t extremely sensitive to pain! Possibly. Hopefully.

When Logan got back, he was going to kill Janus.

He inched towards the edge of the rocks, checking every two seconds for movement. Nothing. Behind him, Roman loitered in the tunnel. Maybe he wanted to see the show.

Logan slipped between two rocks, scraping a knuckle on one. He bit back a yelp. No time for noise. His cloak was heavy with water--water above him, and below him, don’t think about that--but it muffled his footprints easily. He dug in one pocket, holding up the candle with the other, and pulled out a pocketknife. The blade was dull. He should have sharpened it before he left.

He should have done a lot of things, actually. For example, he should have written his will.

Logan let out a long breath, snuck down towards the water, and knelt next to the tentacle.

Up close, it was even more disgusting. Logan felt water seep through the knees of his pants, and he hoped it was water and not slime from the tentacle. When he glanced up, he could see Roman in the tunnel opening, watching him. Probably thinking he looked like an idiot. He probably did.

Logan gripped the knife tightly. Okay. A clean, swift cut--put the power in his arm, not his wrist, and keep it away from his other fingers. Okay. Focus.

Three, two, one.

Logan let the knife fall.

And to his credit--yes, the thinnest of silver linings, but he was going to allow himself something--the blade made it more than halfway through in one swoop. The flesh parted easily.

Then the tentacle spasmed, shot back into the water, and the candle slipped from his fingers. It skidded on the rocks and slipped into the water with a hiss. He could see the blue flame, still burning--and then he couldn’t, as a large shadow passed over it.

Ah.

Logan waited for something to happen. He should probably move, but he was frozen, watching the dark water. Silence. The drip-drip of water above him.

“Um,” Logan finally said, his voice high-pitched. “Roman?”

“What?” Roman asked.

“I--uh--” Logan swallowed. “We might want to run now.”

The water exploded.

Logan threw himself backwards, hitting the rocks and jostling his bones. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as possible. Something large moved above him, and water fell on him like rain, plastering his hair to his skull and fogging his glasses. He rubbed at them and tried to stumble in a direction that wasn’t near the giant flailing thing.

A hand grabbed his arm, and he was hauled in an entirely different direction. “You idiot!” Roman yelled, half-dragging him away from the water.

“You’re one to talk!” Logan managed. “Don’t be so loud!”

“Oh, what, because it’ll hear us?” Roman waved an arm at the boiling water. “I think we’re well past that.”

Logan swore and let Roman toss him behind a rock. He tried to catch his breath. Water dripped down his skin, already making his hands shake, and he could hear the sounds of rocks hitting each other. Roman crouched next to him, between the rock and the wall, eyes wide and white and very judgmental.

“I didn’t mean to,” Logan blurted out, as if it mattered at this point. “I didn’t--”

Roman rolled his eyes hard. “What do we do now?”

“Wait for it to tire out?”

Another tentacle, the size of a centaur, smacked the ceiling. Rocks trembled and stalactites quivered, promising a painful deluge.

Roman looked up at the shaking ceiling, then back at Logan. “Any other bright ideas, witch boy?”

“My name is Logan,” Logan snapped, then realized he had been an idiot. “Uh.”

“Relax, I can’t do anything with it, can I?” Roman eyed the rocks around them. “Do you think we could run for it?”

“I could hardly catch up to you.”

“Then what do we do?” Roman looked at Logan and his eyes lit up. “Do you have a spell for this?”

Logan almost laughed. “Yes, my convenient kraken-repelling spell that requires no time or materials, and can be cast while I’m drenched in water.”

“Oh, good!” Roman blinked. “That was sarcasm, wasn’t it.”

“Take a wild guess!” Logan peeked around the rock. The kraken didn’t seem to have found them yet, but its tentacles were flailing wildly and sleepily, like a rooster woke it up and it wanted to make the sound stop. “This is a disaster. What can you do to make it stop?”

“I’m not exactly powerful,” Roman said sheepishly. “I can ask it nicely?”

“It’s not sentient!”

“I could try anyway!”

“Wonderful.” Logan bit back a yell of frustration. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

“Hey, rude!” Roman fired back, ducking a spray of water. “Who woke the thing up again? Uh, wasn’t me!”

“Dee told me to!” Logan ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think he expected this to go so wrong, but I’m still going to blame him.”

“He’d, like, interfere, right?” Roman didn’t look hopeful. “If you got hurt?”

“He doesn’t know where I am.” Logan looked at his hands. They were scraped with blood and covered in mud, making the skin look even darker than usual. “I can usually get back to him by snuffing the candle--”

A tentacle narrowly missed their rock. It hit the wall, coiled against it in a spray of slime, and retreated angrily.

“--which is currently at the bottom of the pool,” Logan finished. “Because I dropped it.”

Roman seemed to hold back his own frustrated yell. “Okay. Wonderful. Fantastic. Just exactly what we needed.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Fine, then, we’re all doomed!” Roman threw up his hands. “We can’t outrun the thing--well, you certainly can’t--and we have no backup!”

Logan tried to scoot closer to the wall. “Do you have anyone to summon?”

“No,” Roman said.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes.” Roman laughed a bit, which almost made Logan feel better. “It takes half the coven to even put this thing to sleep. I send them a flare, they’ll probably say ‘what flowers do you want at your funeral?’“

Logan groaned and let his head fall onto the wall. “Why’d you even let me in here?”

“You asked!” Roman complained. “I was being polite! I figured you’d get creeped out and turn around!”

“I should have,” Logan said. Curse his pride and inability to stop doing things when told to do them. “Too late now, I suppose.”

A deluge of water fell on them both. When Logan looked up, he saw the rocks shaking faster and faster. That was, to the best of his knowledge, very bad.

"How long would it take to run for it?” Logan asked.

“You’re wearing a cloak,” Roman said. “You’re not capable of running anywhere.”

Logan, with only a moment’s hesitation, tugged it off. He tossed it in the air. A tentacle speared it, and it vanished.

“You’re capable of running,” Roman amended. “Just not fast. I could run for it--”

“Don’t,” Logan said.

“Why not?”

“Well, if you wanted to do so, you would have already.” Logan eyed the rocks. “Besides, if the tunnel began to collapse, you’d be trapped.”

Roman let out a breath. “Fair. So we’re back to no plan?”

“Back to no plan,” Logan agreed, as more water trickled down the back of his neck. They could simply sit there as long as possible, which seemed the only solid option, but an option that still led to eventual death and/or mauling by tentacle. Logan needed to think.

He knew spells. Spells that mostly required materials, which were in his cloak, which were in the bottom of the pool along with the candle. He knew how to escape to Janus--but, again, candle.

Logan began to realize that his knowledge, while vast in areas such as geography and astrophysics, was ill-equipped to handle a kraken. When he got back to Janus, he was definitely going to teach himself every creature spell in the cottage.

If he got back.

Would Janus notice? Would he assume Logan was late again? How long would it take for him to put the pieces together and realize--

Logan was breathing too fast. He needed to calm down. He needed to think.

He glanced at Roman, who was still looking around wildly, as if he could summon a plan. Logan could feel Roman’s magic, thick and cold, in his chest.

And the beginnings of a plan formed. It was a plan that Logan hated on multiple levels, and Roman would probably despise, but it was a plan.

“Can you swim?” Logan asked.

“Yeah!” Roman said, yelling over the sound of a rock crashing into the water. “Can you?”

“No!” Logan said. “I’m terrified of water, actually!”

“You’re terrified of water?” Roman’s panic gave way to incredulity. “Humans need it.”

“I mean big bodies of water!” Logan pointed up. “Like what is currently above us!”

“Oh.”

“So no, I can’t swim.” Logan hesitated. “You can?”

“Candles float in water!” Roman grinned. “Thus, so do I.”

“Ah.” Logan put a few more pieces of the plan together in his head. “I have an idea, and you may not like it.”

“I don’t like anything you’ve said today,” Roman said. “By now, I’ve taken that for granted. Continue.”

Logan took a deep breath just as another splash of water hit them. He coughed. Roman thumped on his chest unhelpfully until the water receded.

“As I was saying,” Logan said, attempting to look more confident than he was. He probably looked a complete mess--no cloak, which bared his arms and mis-matched socks, and straggly hair over his forehead. Roman, by contrast, still looked fine. Nice smile and perfect hair. Unfair.

“As I was saying,” Logan repeated, trying to remember what he was saying. “We need a plan. I can get us out of here if I find that candle, but it’s somewhere in the pool--”

“And only one of us can swim and see in the dark,” Roman finished. He didn’t look happy, but he looked resigned. “So I get the candle for you?”

“I’ll distract the kraken in the meantime,” Logan said.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“So does swimming around in that pool,” Logan pointed out. “And this entire debacle in the first place--which, rest assured, I am going to yell at Dee for.”

“Yeah, that’s my biggest concern right now.” Roman peeked around the rock. “So I bring you the candle, and then--”

“I snuff it and teleport us out of here.”

“And it takes us--”

“To Dee, probably.” Logan paused. “Actually, it takes us to the last place I felt safe, so I’m not quite sure where we’ll end up. Most likely, near Dee.”

Roman looked a bit alarmed by the idea of teleporting somewhere random, but a tentacle crept around the rock and he smashed it with his hand. It retreated with a guttural hiss. “I guess we’ve got no better options.”

“Sorry,” Logan said, despite himself. “I don’t wish to put you in danger.”

“Well, the host has to be polite to the guests!” Roman said, smiling. “Compromise is the best plan, and I’m certainly brave enough to pull it off. Besides, I’m used to being taken advantage of!”

“Um--”

“So when do we do it?” Roman actually looked excited. Maybe he was just glad to have a plan. “Do I go ahead?”

“You can go a few seconds after I do,” Logan said. He pushed himself onto his knees and stared at the slippery rocks next to them. “I’ll run around and distract it. Maybe I’ll even grab a tentacle while I’m there.”

“Optimistic,” Roman said.

“It’s that or start crying.” Logan braced himself. He’d have to run fast, keep away from the walls, and do his best to be noticed. The exact opposite of his usual plan. “Go?”

“Good luck!”

“I’ll need it,” Logan said, and pushed himself out from behind the rock.

He’d meant to check on Roman, to see if Roman was leaving okay. He didn’t have time. Almost instantly, a tentacle barreled past him, hitting the wall with bone-shaking force. Logan tossed himself in the first direction he thought of, tumbled down a few rocks, and found himself far closer to the water than he’d like. It was frothing white and angry, tentacles clawing at the walls.

Okay, so he did not want to fall into that. Logan swallowed the lump of terror in his throat--he was going to drown--and began to scale the rocks. He could work in circles, or he could just bob from rock to rock, back and forth.

Quickly, though, he realized that no plan would work. He couldn’t plan ahead. All he could do was duck.

Duck a swing from overhead. Duck a flash of wet, grey skin from behind. Lunge left, lunge right, move before he slipped, move, move.

He found himself in a rhythm. Toss himself in a direction, grab wildly for a handhold, and dangle for a second. Then he heard a telltale splash and threw himself in a different direction. His hands ached. He barely noticed.

“Over here,” he yelled at one point. He was so out of breath that he barely made a sound. Maybe he was enough of a distraction already--he hoped so. Roman was down there somewhere. Hopefully.

Logan risked a glance at the water. No sign of him. Logan’s chest was cold,  because of the freezing ocean water, not because of magic.

Toss himself in a direction, hope for a handhold, regret life decisions, repeat.

Logan was never going to complain about a boring errand again.

“Roman?” he finally called. No answer.

Roman could breathe underwater--well, more aptly, he didn’t need to breathe as much. He would be fine. Unless he’d fainted, or been smashed by a tentacle, or drowned--

Logan’s fingers slipped on a rock. He gripped it tighter and kept moving.

Move, grab, hang, move--

“Logan!”

Logan almost whooped in relief. He whirled and saw Roman, drenched and triumphant, ten feet below him. The candle guttered in his left hand. Only one notch left.

“Thank you!” Logan called back, out of politeness. Roman gave him a thumbs up, then leapt into the air to avoid a tentacle. Leap, duck, roll, and Roman was only a few feet away. He grinned widely at Logan.

“I’ll get to you,” Logan said, slipping down a sheet of rock. It crumbled under his feet, falling into the water. “Wait there.”

“No problem!” Roman said, which even Logan could tell was a lie. He dodged another tentacle, which looped around in midair and tried to grab him again. Roman kicked it. “Oh, it’s getting smarter!”

“Fascinating.” Logan let himself fall another few feet, then grabbed a notch of rock. “Almost there.”

“It was pretty cool down there,” Roman rambled, jumping from foot to foot. “Just one big eye--”

A wave of water hit Logan in the back.

The kraken had indeed gotten smarter. Or, perhaps, it was finally fully awake. This wave was tall enough to reach them both, and strong enough to punch Logan’s breath from his lungs. It hurt so much that he didn’t even realize when his hands emptied.

Logan fell into the water.

It was cold. Colder than Roman’s magic, colder than the coven’s house, colder than a winter blizzard. Logan almost gasped. He clapped his hand over his mouth as a last resort. Shock tingled up his legs and arms.

He wasn’t supposed to panic. He knew that much. He needed to kick off his shoes and swim for the surface. But the water was tossing him around, currents and foam and cold hands on his skin, and he didn’t know which way was up. He kicked his feet. One shoe slid off.

Through the fuzzy darkness, he saw a flash of blue.

Move--move as fast as he could. He needed to move--he was going to drown--

He sank deeper.

And two hands grabbed his.

Roman was far warmer than the water around them, oddly. And his magic, when it spilled into Logan, felt warm too. Molten. Roman squeezed Logan’s hands and pressed the candle into one of them. Logan looked down at it, trying to clear his head and remember exactly what he was supposed to do.

Right. Snuff the candle. Get home.

He could barely see--

Then everything was yellow. Roman’s face burned into view, eyes wide and pale, feet kicking carefully at the water. Logan looked down at the candle stub with its bright blue flame, then turned to look at the source of the light.

Ah. An eye, big as the sail of a ship, yellow and fiery with a slit-black pupil.

"Shit,” Logan said.

Bubbles erupted from his mouth. They looked like pearls in the yellow light. Logan blinked several times and tore his gaze away. But he could feel the eye on him--he could hear the water moving--he could hear the kraken’s heart, if he tried, a solid thump-thump through the water--

Roman said something muffled. Logan looked at him. Roman groaned and exaggeratedly mouthed snuff the candle.

Logan looked down at the candle. Snuff the candle. Except the candle was already in water, and it was burning strong. How had he done this before? He didn’t remember--all he remembered was the first time he used it, when Janus wasn’t safe yet, when he ended up halfway across the world--

Logan batted at the flame. It didn’t budge. He blew on it, and got a stream of yellow-lit bubbles. The candle was so small. If it went out, their chance was lost, and the entire ocean was above them and around them and--

Another muffled yell from Roman. Logan looked up.

You are a witch, Roman mouthed at him. You can snuff the--muffled--candle.

Logan steadied himself.

Magic always felt odd to use. It started as cold rain, when he was a kid, like a bucket of cold water in his bed to wake him up. As he grew, it was warmer, a light rain in the garden, dewdrops on a spring morning.

He dug at his magic like digging into dirt, and waited to find a shoot.

The candle fizzed.

He didn’t have enough. He hadn’t cast a spell all day, so he should have enough for a simple spell, but he was cold and wet and terrified and frozen in the gaze of a creature older and bigger than he was. And he was on his own.

If he was outnumbered, run the other way.

Roman squeezed his hand.

Except he wasn’t. He wasn’t outnumbered. It was two against one, although Roman wasn’t a witch, just a witch’s creation. Just a piece of candlewax and magic with a nice smile--

A piece of magic.

Oh, that was a terrible idea.

Can I, Logan tried to mouth, borrow some--

What? Roman mouthed back with high eyebrows.

Something moved in the darkness, and the yellow light winked out for a second, before returning in full force. It made Logan’s limbs feel heavy. He could barely see the candle’s flame.

Sorry, he decided to mouth. I’m sorry about this.

He could apologize more if they survived.

For now, Logan gripped Roman’s hand and concentrated. Roman. Probably Roman Galatea, but more importantly, Roman. Roman gave Logan his name--which was an act of trust that Logan was now breaking, but don’t think about that--and it made things easier.

Finding his own magic was digging in soil. Finding someone else’s was breaking through a layer of frost, and Logan really hoped it didn’t hurt, because he was trying to just borrow as much as he needed but he was tired and couldn’t focus--

Tug. Throw them into a random direction. Grab the candle. Cling to Roman’s hand.

Move.

The flame winked out.

The eye winked out.

And Logan took a gasping breath of fresh air.

They were standing at the foot of the mountain. In front of them was the port, teeming with life, and the late-afternoon sky streaked with sun. Ships creaked back and forth like toys, and sails billowed in the wind. Logan took one look at the ocean, stretching out to infinity, and promptly turned away.

He looked down at one hand. The candle was gone.

He looked at the other. Roman’s hand was still in his. Drops of water beaded on his skin.

Logan looked up just in time for Roman to crush him in a hug.

“We did it!” Roman cheered, spinning Logan in a circle. “Success! Victory!”

“Put me down!” Logan yelled, kicking at thin air.

“Triumph!” Roman declared, but he put Logan back down. Logan rubbed at his sleeves and tried to drain the water from his shirt. His cloak was probably beneath the ocean right now. Janus would be annoyed about that.

“We did it,” Roman repeated gleefully.

“We did it,” Logan agreed, allowing himself a small smile of his own. “I--uh. Sorry. About taking your magic without asking.”

“Oh,” Roman said, like he hadn’t considered that would be something worth apologizing for. “Well, it got us out, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t you?” Logan asked. He almost wished Roman would argue with him, to make Logan feel less like a jerk.

“Eh, it was fine, emergencies are emergencies.” Roman shrugged. “Plus, your magic feels pretty nice!”

Logan blinked. “It does?”

“Uh--kind of,” Roman said hastily. “Not in a nice way. You’re annoying.”

“Ah,” Logan said. He fake-coughed to gather his thoughts, and found a real cough instead. More coughs bubbled up. He doubled over and squeezed his eyes shut until they faded. “I hate water.”

“After today, I might be joining you with that.” Roman wiped water from his hair ruefully. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire cavern collapsed soon.”

“Would the kraken die?”

“Probably not.” Roman looked out to sea. “It would just slip through the cracks, creeping through the shadows to prey on unsuspecting ships, its tentacles grasping for blood--”

“Don’t,” Logan pleaded. “I do not want to think about that.”

“But we beat it!” Roman grinned. “Kind of sort of! I mean, we successfully fled the scene, which is more than most people!”

“True,” Logan admitted. “I didn’t get a tentacle--”

“Is Dee going to be mad?”

Logan looked down at his wet, bloody clothes. On any other day, he’d say yes. He’d never actually failed an errand--but he’d never almost died on one, either.

“No,” Logan said. “He’ll understand. And after the kraken, I don’t think I’m scared of being yelled at.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah, me neither.”

“You--oh.” Logan winced. “Oh, you’re going to get in trouble for this, aren’t you?”

“If they find out!” Roman tapped the side of his nose. “I have many excuses.”

“And if they find out?”

“I’ll get an earful.” Roman sighed. “Since you didn’t steal anything, though, and since the kraken is still intact, I think it’ll pass.”

“That’s good.” Logan glanced up the mountain trail. Janus would definitely be expecting him soon. “Er--I should be going.”

“Oh!” Roman looked a bit disappointed. “Okay, yeah, you have your witchy business, I understand. Fair travels!”

Logan nodded slowly. “Thank you, Roman. For everything. I truly appreciate it.”

“Aw, he has a heart!” Roman grinned. “You’re welcome. I’m awesome.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Logan said. “Still, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You couldn’t have!”

“You’re ruining this.”

Roman grinned wider. In the sunlight, he didn’t look off anymore. Well, he didn’t look human, but Logan barely noticed. He looked a bit like a jackrabbit. Gangly and brown and long-legged, with bright and cheerful white eyes.

“My point is that I’m grateful.” Logan rubbed at his arm, feeling nervous. “And--if you ever need me, feel free to visit.”

“If I need a tentacle?”

“We don’t have tentacles. If you need something other than a tentacle, yes.”

“What use could I have for a non-tentacle?” Roman teased. “Your offer is much appreciated. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Logan waved quickly at him. “Er--goodbye?”

“Fare thee well!” Roman bowed and jumped towards the port. He really was like a jackrabbit. “Don’t drown!”

“I’ll endeavor not to!”

Roman smiled and continued to scramble down the path.

“Wait,” Logan called, before he could stop himself. “Why did you help?”

“What?” Roman asked, pivoting.

“You could have easily ran,” Logan said, gesturing to Roman. “You’ve been leaping down the hillside. You could have left me and escaped.”

“We got out anyway, didn’t we?” Roman pressed a hand to his chest. “How could I abandon someone in need? Even an irritating and naive someone such as yourself.”

Logan glared at him.

“And--” Roman rubbed at his hair sheepishly. “You call me by my name. People don’t usually do that.”

“Oh,” Logan said.

Roman shrugged even more sheepishly.

“Well, I’ll just have to do it more to make up for it,” Logan said. “Does that work, Roman?”

Roman beamed. “Sounds like a plan, Logan.”

Janus would never recommend sharing his name with a near-stranger. Janus would say that was unsafe. Janus would say one witch was trustworthy, and one was all anyone needed.

But two was company. Logan found he rather liked having company.

“Sounds like a plan,” Logan agreed, and smiled back.

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

[aslitheryprinx]

These are from song titles, but I think these are poggers (I hope, at least)

* And there was life inside "it"

* Can it really be called "Cinderella" ?

* Love inside an empty box

* World is full of wonders (Or "Full of wonders!!!!")

* Near

* Angel's clover

Don't worry anon, they are most definitely poggers! (Both of my current ao3 published works have names based on song lyrics, so that really fits my vibe haha.)

There are so many good prompts here! I couldn't help but write like.... A lot lmao.

CW: dehumanization, themes of child abuse, themes of death. Be safe!

____

And there was life inside "it"

They called it RNB-00. It was the first in a generation of experimental life production using DNA from one of the most volatile creatures in the worlds: endermen. There were no endermen hybrids. The children could not survive, and the birth was volatile, tearing the parents and anyone near them apart with the violent magic.

They would perform the experiment anyways.

An unfinished human embryo, carefully extracted from someone who would be written in the paperwork as a volunteer. An enderpearl, freshly taken from a creature they didn't consider "human" enough to need even dubious content. DNA, taken directly from the brain of the enderman.

They spliced together the three ingredients, cheering when the chimera of enderman and embryo inside its tubes showed signs of life.

But some things are not meant to be done.

Nature is not meant to be tampered with.

The experiment turned south quickly. The specimen convulsed in its tube, growing at a rapid rate. Vibrant purple magic lashed out, dancing through the lab with a vengeance. There were the cries of a newborn mixed with the shrieks of an enderman- then, an explosion.

RNB-00 fell to the ground, the magic pulsing from it too bright to be looked at by the naked eye. A second explosion rocked the lab, this time all-encompassing and final. The building turned to ash and dust and settled around a new crater.

There would never be a RNB-01.

A shape rose from the center of the crater. It was a child from one angle, maybe two or three, with pure white hair, scarred cheeks, and a red eye.

From the other angle, it was a monster. Something not quite enderman or human. Jet black hair, and velvety black fur covered the left half of it. It's eye glowed an unnatural green, not the color of humans or endermen.

It toddled slowly away from the epicenter of the explosion, no memory of what had happened. As it walked, it noticed a mark, a brand, on it's right arm: RNB-00. The child stared, and blinked at the word.

And he named himself Ranboo.

Can it really be called "Cinderella"?

When Tubbo was young, he saw Cinderella, once. Even with how young he was, the story resonated with him. He wished all his stepfather did was give him chores, but he knew exactly how it felt to be unloved, unwanted, forced to stay on the sidelines. He just hoped his fairy godmother would come soon.

When he was a little older, he looked back on the story of Cinderella with nothing but bitterness. He was old enough now that he knew fairy tales didn't happen. There was no "fairy godmother" coming to save him; there never had been, there never would be. All he had was himself and his shitty situation. He wanted to forget the story that had given him such a bittersweet lie, but it was burned into his memory.

As he reached his teens, the anger turned into weariness. It wasn't Cinderella's fault his stepfather was a piece of shit. It wasn't the character's fault that she had help to break free while he didn't. And how miserable he was wasn't Tubbo's fault either, no matter how much his stepfather screamed it.

When he was 16, feeling ancient yet younger than he had ever been, he stopped comparing himself to Cinderella. Cinderella hadn't stood over her stepparent's body with a bat. Cinderella hadn't called the police on herself, showing them what she'd done and then the reason why, covering his skin beneath his clothes. Cinderella had been freed, but she hadn't paid such a heavy price for that freedom.

Tubbo had. Tubbo was far from a Cinderella story.

Love inside an empty box

Tommy's love was dangerous. He learned that at a very young age. Love for him wasn't just a feeling, it was a physical thing, at least to his eyes. He could feel every last drop of care, of love gathering around him like a storm. And just like a storm, when the feeling touched down, it was deadly. People, animals, anything that was touched by the love he couldn't stop feeling crumbled under the weight of something that shouldn't exist.

Tommy couldn't stop himself from caring. But he could stop himself from hurting. Hurting others, at least. Tommy commissioned a solution from a witch with a terrible reputation for cruelty, but a renowned skill with magical crafting. It cost him everything he owned, and some of who he was, but he walked away with an empty box made to hold what he couldn't afford to keep.

For years after that, every time he felt love building up in his chest- his care for friends, the people he considered family, even for strangers- he tore it off of himself and flung it into the box. Over time, the box grew full, bursting at the seams with his love. He learned to discard all but the most precious feelings, keeping those in his overstuffed box that weighed nothing and locking them inside.

But no lock lasts forever. Nothing lasts an eternity.

Tommy was alone with nothing but his thoughts, his box, and the ghost of a brother who was only really that in the privacy of his mind. He let his eyes shut, the box held loosely in one hand. The ghost, not knowing the consequences, touched the box.

And the seams of magic holding it together shattered and the love Tommy had stored away broke free, as powerful and terrible as a hurricane.

If it had been Wilbur, the man would've died as surely as he had when a blade was thrust through his heart. But this was Ghostbur, and you cannot kill what is already dead.

Still, such power has consequences. All the love in the box, far too powerful to be contained for long, spilled over, pouring over and around the ghost and the boy.

Yes, such power has consequences. The boy with too much love and his brother that never was would face those consequences together.

(world is) full of wonders

Wilbur is a simple musician. He travels alone, playing an ode to all of the world around him. He sings to the trees, the sky, the river, the sun, anything he pleases.

Though he knows it's silly, he can't help but imagine they sing back. He tries to match the harmony he hears in his mind, tries to play along with the symphony of nature. He can never keep up, but likes to imagine the world is fond of his efforts.

But even musicians can stumble into trouble. Too caught up in the ballad he played to the tune of the wind, he didn't hear the rattle of bones, the drawing of a bow. He heard only the twang as an arrow released before it pierced through his skull and everything went black.

But Wilbur wasn't gone. He didn't cease to exist, like he always assumed. He felt the cool caress of the void, the gentle brush of the universe against his mind and he gasped. Clearer than he'd ever heard it, he heard the song of the world, in perfect harmony and tune. This time, it sang along to him, to the pulsing of his soul.

Wilbur had no body, but if he did he would weep. He had no lungs, no mouth, no voice, but his soul took up the melody he longed to sing anyways. He sang with the universe until the song became more and more impossible to replicate and he could only listen in awe.

He woke up painlessly, laying on a gentle green field. His guitar was by his side, and his sweater was cleaner than it had ever been. He knew instinctually that he was not in the world he'd came from. This was a new world, a universe untouched, a new song to add his voice to.

Near

It hit him, one day, as he absently peeled a potato over the sink. That he didn't remember if he'd ever touched another person.

Techno had froze for a moment. It was quite the revelation to have out of nowhere. He dismissed it a moment later, memories of how he and Phil would bump shoulders as they walked and talked fresh in his mind.

But all too soon his thoughts turned back to the uncomfortable topic. Sure he'd touched Phil before, but that was through layers of armor and clothing. Had he ever had skin to skin contact with another person? Anything, as simple as a handshake? Hell, even something during battle would count.

He came up empty, and it was driving him crazy.

He didn't need to touch people. He didn't. Having someone he cared about liked close to him was good enough. He didn't need physical contact to reassure him. He never had, not even as a child.

Though that may have had something to do with the chorus of voices he'd had in his head that had kept him on the brink of insanity for most of his childhood. His voices were always there, always with him, so what need did he have for another person's company?

Except he did like company, Phil's especially. And he had it, plenty of it, more than he could ever possibly need. So why did he suddenly feel so off balance?

He asked Phil about it next time he saw his friend. He kept it casual. It wasn't a big deal, he didn't need to worry Phil by letting how much this had bothered him show.

"Hey, Phil, have we ever touched?" He asked. Phil gave him a weird look, then bumped his shoulder.

"Like that?" He asked, unimpressed. "Mate, maybe you should check your own memory before you call me old man again."

"Nah," Techno dismissed, "I meant like... skin to skin. Like a handshake or something."

This actually gave Phil pause. He thought for a moment, then laughed.

"I guess we haven't. Weird. Why?"

"I... Don't think I've ever touched anyone like that," Techno said. He tried to keep his voice steady, but his heart was pounding as he poured out his weakness in front of Phil.

The other man was silent for a long time. Techno could practically hear the shouts of ever??? running through his mind.

Suddenly Phil turned towards him, pulling off a glove.

"Handshake?" He offered with a smile, something sad beyond the amusement in his eyes. Techno rolled his eyes, but he hesitated taking his glove off. Slowly reaching out, as if Phil's hand was a snake that might strike at any sudden movements, he placed his hand in Phil's.

The sensation was like a fire roaring to life on his hand. It didn't hurt, not like a real fire, but it somehow burned. He froze, his brain having trouble processing the bizarre feeling. It was overwhelming, and the best thing he'd ever felt, and yet it was almost a relief when Phil gently pulled his hand away.

"We'll take it slow, alright mate?" He said, nudging Techno with an elbow. The piglin's brain began to work again and he snorted, pulling the glove on again and falling back into step.

"Of course. We can't overwork your old man brain," Techno said dryly, earning him a sharper nudge. He grinned, the amusement softening to fondness as Phil walked just a little closer, letting their arms stay pressed together as they went.

It was strange how you didn't notice you were missing something until you had it. Bare contact was a little too overwhelming right now. So he was right. For now, this was enough. Having his best friend near him was all he needed.

Angel's Clover

There is a special plant that only grows in the land of celestials. An ethereal clover that sprouts from the weary souls that come to rest on the soils of heaven. The souls and the clover flourish in time with one another, tended to by the celestials that walk the lands. It is only a rumor, in the eyes of mortals, but one who walks among them knows it to be true. He is the Angel of Death, and his presence can never touch the sacred halls of the celestial lands, lest they wither and die.

But souls do not always complete the journey, to find their final rest above. Some souls are too broken, too hurt to reach the peace of the celestial lands. It is the duty of the Angel of Death to guide the souls, and it is his duty to heal them so that they may be guided.

In the land of the mortals, there is one place where the clover grows. It is in the humble garden of a plain looking man, who wears a large hat to block his eyes from the sun, and keeps his unearthly wings folded beneath his cloak.

In his garden, the Angel of Death nurtures the precious remnants of life.

[blankdblank]

Anaticula Pt 51

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 21b - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 - Pt 25 - Pt 26 -  Pt 27 - Pt 28 - Pt 29 - Pt 30 - Pt 31 - Pt 33 - Pt 34 - Pt 35 - Pt 36 - Pt 37 - Pt 38 - Pt 39 - Pt 40 - Pt 41 - Pt 42 - Pt 43 - Pt 44 - Pt 45 - Pt 46 - Pt 47 - Pt 48 - Pt 49 - Pt 50 -

March rolled around bringing with it another trip to Hogsmeade, happily for you in an early spring snow you got another couple weeks out of your sweaters and fake fur lined leather jacket and scarves before the weather caught up to the date and the tiny blooms split through the snow and spring erupted around you. With it came rains though, and puddles that the Chimeras and Hippogriffs rushed out to frolic in the puddles luring glowing earthworms up to the surface the crows, Fawkes and Idris loved to collect and toss around until their outer shells broke open revealing eight winged moths they chased through the rain drops into the castle in a flying game of tag.

.

The first two weeks of April held another set of pretests for OWLS and NEWTS for fifth and seventh years, with one last birthday party in the place of RoR club that day for you, Fred and George in turning 18. Next up was the final match Hufflepuff against Slytherin for the final years to face off. With Hogsmeade the following day filled with another set of sales and seasonal based products, mainly the enchanted honey treats from their hives.

.

May rolled around and with a series of career advising meetings from all the Professors heading houses for the fifth years came with a mini career parade through classes giving plenty of ideas of paths available. All the prepping involved did nothing to prepare you for the exams that reared their heads finally.

Again the other classes were explained to younger years that those Professors would be out for the testing time giving the students free periods while you were all seemingly put through hell in exam form. This time a Professor Tofty was heading the Practical portions of the exams.

Charms – Mon

The written portion was nothing like you had expected. The majority of what you had studied in the previous six years were the minority of it and the obscure references to books mentioned in all your years of studying had taken up the remainder truly testing how far you all had gone into mastering this field.

Out in the main hall after exiting the Great Hall you joined the other students in your assigned lines wondering by the end how many of you would be sitting for exams at all with few careers demanding the scores to apply. Silent charms were listed and each one grew more complex reacting off the others with a few students even giving up before reaching the third charm given to head outside for some air. All passing Professor Flitwick issuing words of confidence that they most likely did better than they had assumed.

.

Transfiguration – Tue

With another obscure exam truly testing how above and beyond you went from the basic curriculum you yourself had to pause for a moment rubbing your face in a groan when you finally closed your completed packet. The action causing Minerva’s pacing to halt for a moment until your head rose and she caught your deep yawn from the long night of last minute cramming mirrored by the twins and Cedric.

Your first practical test being to select the object on the table that once was a lemur you then had to shift back properly, more a test of chance really you managed to beat easily. Next came the real challenges, a set list of items to shift yourself back from with a time limit for those unable to manage the shift back. Word of your Animagus form however was added to your notes after a demonstration for you and the twins and the two others having chosen their own forms.

.

Herbology – Wed

Under the watch of Professor Sprout you straightened up with a groan form your hunched position after the focused hunch you had slipped into in the massive packet no doubt even Neville could fall apart trying to master.

Again to the allotted greenhouse you were shown and given some of the most difficult plants to tend and collect from leaving half of the forty students sitting for the exams bitten or scratched by the claw and mouth hiding bulbs.

.

DADA – Thur

Where Umbridge would be Dumbledore took her place and watched those willing to try for this exam with a hopeful gaze wishing that your club could have been enough to catch everyone up after the terribly useless teachings of a few of your past Professors.

Practical exams seemed to go well for those taking it with only a few losing control of stronger spells halfway through that all dissipated.

.

Ancient Runes – Fri

Professor Babbling sat quite eagerly over the full set of her students all trying for the exam after having studied so hard. The few dozen students gave hope to the judges overseeing the exams they had wondered to see how popular this course would be.

.

Potions – Mon

Very few students had chosen to sit for this exam, mainly those with career ties to require the exam. With a smirk Snape observed you, Fred and George easing through the unbelievably large packet with a third simply being your need to correct listed recipes and instructions in properly brewing the potions.

For the practical portion obscure cauldrons are set up in your assigned desks and you were given ingredients to add to each either to correct mishaps or to keep the potion moving in the correct direction.

A final test was to identify poisons and cures with a series of plants or animals with mild ailments easily reversed with the proper doses and potions.

.

Care of Magical Creatures – Tue

Arguably the smallest number of test takers sat for this with the smallest packet offered with mainly essays for the second half. Outside the practical was mainly a verbal set of questions tasked with care and housing of creatures with a few minor questions on legal requirements for keeping the creatures.

.

Astronomy – Wed (Midnight)

Midnight found you up in the Astronomy tower where you filled in some of the most eye crossing answers for the packet you and seven others had taken the risk on trying for. The practical test more like the last with designated areas to fill in though not just for their names but for the effects on various creatures or plants.

.

Divination – Wed

Early Wednesday morning had you and five others took your seats in Professor Firenze’s classroom in desks brought in at the lack of a need for the full hall, also easing the shift of Professor Tofty to each of you asking for various tasks from each of you.

.

Arithmacy – Wed

After lunch in Professor Vector’s class you sat for your Arithmacy exam. Yet another mind numbingly thick packet with the boards divided up into three sections with equations you had to fill in and correct to solve before a set of verbal problems were given to you. At the first one you paused blinking at the Professor and had to wipe your section clean to copy down the question for your brain to kick start enough for you to get to the right answer.

.

History of Magic – Thur

A stunning large pack of twelve students sat for the history exam in Professor Binns’ class where it was just the written exam with no practical portion.

.

Muggle Studies - Fri

Another barely populated exam in Barty’s class for a small packet with a series of odd tests on various muggle subjects and objects including series of laws pertaining to muggle laws and how they meshed with our laws concerning their safety both now and in the past.

…

Saturday was all clear for you, all classes canceled for seventh years allowing you to sleep in, which was exactly what you did leading to a score of pajama clad seventh years emerging from sleep in varied stages of consciousness for the walk to the Great Hall for lunch. Each of the anxious fifth years especially inching closer asking those who had sat for the exams they had concerns about for tips on what to study. For you it was easily handled as you had given a set list of topics, all vague and approved by the Professors to be used as guidance points for those under you facing the OWLS or the sixth years facing NEWTS the next year.

For two weeks you settled into an easier set of lessons, all free topics on what you wished to learn or recover from years prior in greater detail giving you plenty of time to relax in your final weeks at school.

.

Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw started off June, a much needed distraction for the fifth years with only another week until their big exams.

Hermione tried for the most with seven with both Harry and Ron trying for five to meet the minimum for Auror status. Neville sat for six along with Draco with a majority of the other fifth years trying for four or more, though none had come close to trying for the full twelve or even the seven Hermione sat for.

.

A final set of classes came with a big celebratory dinner for your graduating class in your next to last night. On the way to which you came across Luna in the lower halls with Draco, who was casting summoning charms making you ask, “You two aren’t at the feast?” Looking them both over.

Luna grinned at you answering, “Lost all my possessions. Apparently people have been hiding them.”

“That's awful.”

Draco scoffed, “It’s lunacy stealing from our dorm. When I find out who took them I’m, well, I’m going to do something and it won’t be pleasant!”

Luna patted his shoulder grateful for his protection, “Oh, it's all good fun. But as it's the last night, I really do need them back.”

“Do you want any help finding them?” You asked looking over the list you set your glowing hand on in a more powerful summoning spell sending them all soaring for you.

Draco, “This won’t happen next year!”

Luna chuckled weakly saying, “That's all right. Anyway, my mum always said the things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the way we expect.” All around you her things hovered making Draco straighten up and send them up to their dorm. “Think I'll just go have some pudding.” You nodded and joined the pair to the Great Hall where everyone else was ready to enjoy the final night.

Behind your back Harry, Ron and Hermione from their spot in an open walkway Harry looked you over in the group of other seventh years at your table, “I've been thinking about something Dumbledore said to me.”

Hermione, “What's that?”

Harry, “That even though we've got a fight ahead of us we've got one thing that Voldemort doesn't have.”

Ron, “Yeah?”

Harry nodded as you let out a loud laugh joining the others in looking over the final memory books from the papers for you all to take home as a reminder of your final year, “Something worth fighting for.”

Ron nodded, “We’ll make them proud.”

Hermione, “Things are going to be so different next year without them.”

Harry nodded, “Always felt like home with them here.”

Ron, “Hate to see how different Ginny’s final year is without us.”

.

Where others headed off to their beds with a few other seventh years you were able to leave a night early. So alongside Cedric, a moonlit stroll from Kings Cross back to the Grimmauld entrance later you settled Cedric into his chosen room and headed off to bed yourselves early so you could wake up in time to meet the returning students in Diagon Alley on their way back from Kings Cross Station. Soundly you slept and in a matching set of purple suits to your pinstriped slacks complete with vest matching the twins to cover the white blouse underneath you all left the house to your store.

Beside you Cedric adjusted his sleeves on his rolled up button down shirt tucked into his jeans matching Oliver’s for the loose dress code for your workers so the teens roaming through would know who works there. A quick stolen hug from your father and uncles came in your hurrying out after breakfast with Percy hurrying with you sharing his new tasks under Rufus since Fudge had been replaced until your paths split.

Just as you’d planned once you had unlocked the shop and all taken your places you caught sight of the students finally arriving with their relatives eager to see what you had managed to create. Hours they bustled through and the shelves emptied, only to be restocked, while you all took turns around the floor sharing details on each item or potion.

As per planned Draco, Neville, Luna and Ginny had all been set on the schedules coming up in their hopes of helping you all out and gain some more cash for themselves over the summer. In the setting of the sun however in your silver eyed path out of your shop the day had changed for you at the vision you had. Sharing the vision you had seen the twins joined you in a trot to Ollivander’s while Fred and George hurried off to Fortescue’s ice cream Parlor. Slack jawed the men listened to your hasty explanations and agreed to Ghoul and shop doubles. Using draconic spells their shops were copied and their Ghoul doubles were left inside as you showed them through your enchanted doorways and faked a public goodbye in the main path witnessed by others as a brief stop in and took the long way back home through the muggle tunnels.

Among the few others in your island hideaways Garrick and Florean both relaxed knowing they were safe and that any students in need of them once their shops were attacked would be shown the way to them. Both having knowledge on the Elder Wand and Ravenclaw’s Diadem, reason enough for you to send a warning off to Dumbledore.

Through the week however the freshly arrived and instructed House Elves K had chosen were off gathering a series of chosen targets they took off to your island hideaways with more and more scooped out shells of houses and shops were left as proof of the missing. More and more the charms you had given to the Muggle borns had been set off upon reading news from their school friends and doubles of them were made with a full island hut was enchanted to stand as the façade for their true homes forming up full blocks filling up quickly by the day. Word of the missing families had been sent to the Ministry only worsening matters with lists of those stolen away growing by the day bubbling up fear. Percy stood as proof of it returning to dinner each night sharing that Rufus had been looking for anything good to help and distract from what was happening.

.

Shooting up in your sleep after a long day and night in your office to refill your stocks on more of your potions distantly diversions were sent to keep a great crowd of Muggles from crossing a duo of bridges. The Millenium Bridge and the Brockdale Bridge both twisted and contorted snapping to sink into the waters below at the plumes of smoke from the Death Eaters hoping to attack the Muggles traveling across them.

Groggily you sent a note to Petunia alerting her to the news and that the Aurors were looking into it. The Order had looked into it, and with little clues as to who exactly behind it their attentions were sent off to West Country, which was heavily damaged possibly by Giants and more Death Eaters. One of whom was captured by a stray bit of rubble knocking them unconscious into the path of a squib worker who sent for their cousin to alert someone to arrest him.

Through him the Ministry had learned of the location of Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance’s bodies discovered to be false doubles once the Order had confirmed that the pair and their relatives had been taken and hidden before they could be harmed easing the panic they now had to fake in their supposed absence.

Cornelius Fudge and new Minister for Magic Rufus Scrimgeour visited the Muggle Prime Minister to update him about the cause of the recent disasters and notify him of new security measures including the inclusion of Kingsley Shacklebolt in the Minister’s Office Staff. All while they headed the task of repairing the bridges using new ‘astonishing trial bases building techniques’ to do so that was heavily publicized to distract many from panic for any repeat attacks. After which the new Minister Rufus had to turn his attentions back to the trouble brewing with families writing to the Ministry asking how their children would be safe in the strings of attacks and kidnappings. His chosen path was to write asking Dumbledore to get Harry Potter, a well known student attending Hogwarts to speak in support of the Ministry hoping to calm people down.

.

On your shared day off with Draco once again you found yourself strolling through that same shielded manor with your mood ring enchanted to keep your hair silvery blue no matter what you felt. Upon entering up to the main hall you felt Fenrir’s eyes on you and his steps shadowing yours. In a nudge of your arm against Draco’s you kept him from looking back at the werewolf shielding his uncertainty of your safety.

Echoes of distant moans and cries of pleasure came from the other end of the manor in your path to the sitting room where you found Barty and Snape waiting there with Narcissa and Lucius. A glare from the latter sent Fenrir off and right to Barty you strolled accepting his hug before one from Snape while Draco hugged his parents and sat between them.

Barty grinned at you saying, “Glad to see you, Love. Saw the shop, incredible.”

You nodded then turned your head to the doorway at yet another cry of pleasure clearly coming from Bellatrix making you ask, “Can’t they muffle the room?”

Lucius swiped his hand and the doorway closed blocking out the sound, “Trust me, you were lucky to have missed the first act.”

“Really, it’s as if Bella and Rudolphus didn’t get any time together in Azkaban at all if she’s that loud.”

Narcissa forced a grin and you sat between Barty and Snape and looked to her as she said, “Rudolphus is out.”

Looking from her to Lucius your head awkwardly turned from Snape to Barty and you stated in an awkward shift in your seat, “Oh gag me with a spoon.”

Barty chuckled easing his arm around your shoulders at Snape saying, “Anything to win back his favor.”

“Oh that’s so wrong.”

Draco even grimaced and in the abrupt cut off your eyes tilted upwards to the sound of a door being thrown open making Lucius mumble, “Oh yay, Fenrir announced you.”

Draco, “No doubt he’ll be in a lovely mood after being interrupted.”

Snape scoffed, “Never a lovely mood to be found here.”

Within a few minutes the door to the room had been thrown open and through it Riddle strolled looking you over as you stood with Draco doing the same. Ignoring the others in the room Riddle focused on you stating, “We should take a turn about the gardens. Corus has been slaving over them hearing of your interest in Herbology.”

You nodded and crossed to his side brushing your shirt down around your middle, with you at his side he turned saying while facing the door, “You too Draco.”

Hurrying after you Draco nodded and kept a pace behind you in Riddle’s sharing the detailed renovations he had been doing, “I hear you sat for all twelve NEWTS, impressive.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded then said, “There was more mentioned in the papers on your shop opening as well as your place on the Kestrals team. All our plans are still being ironed out so do not trouble yourself with minor details and focus on your adventures.”

More and more he seemed to be trying to impress you with his attention to your daily life by Draco’s reckoning and in your being shown to a butterfly decorated fountain he was pulled aside in your closer inspection of something, and instructed, “Draco, my boy. You of course have a task of great importance I am entrusting you with.” Draco nodded and tried not to squirm at the hand placed on his shoulder, feigning comfort at his touch, “You, once you return to Hogwarts are going to kill Dumbledore. Not right away, you will know the proper time. Learn his habits, find a weak moment to strike.”

Draco nodded again, “Of course. I won’t let you down.”

Riddle gave him a grin and clapped him on the back, “Good. I knew I could expect big things from you.” His eyes shifted to your reflection on a glass decoration on Draco’s right, “Learning from the brightest.” At the sound of footsteps approaching Riddle turned and narrowed his gaze at Bellatrix approaching your side.

“Auntie Bella, enjoying the manor?”

Forcing a grin at you she replied, “Of course. I myself am becoming quite comfortable here. I take it you are far too busy to spend more time with our Dark Lord.”

With a smirk you replied, “I have my tasks, you apparently have chosen yours.” Turning your head you grinned at Riddle in his approach taking your side over hers making her inhale forcing her grin to remain in place.

Riddle peered down at you, “I take it you have to return soon?” You nodded and he continued, “Then perhaps you should escort young Draco back, between the two of you I am certain you can master this task.” Leaning in he whispered by your ear in Parseltongue, “Do what you can to find a place in Hogwarts. Watch him.”

Nodding again you answered, “I will. The garden is lovely. Once I find an entry I will send word.” Back to the Manor you led Draco, quickly informing the others you had been sent off again and that you would share your assignments later. Though at the wink from Barty in a comment he would drop by later Bella looked him up and down and moved to begin subtly questioning Barty on his attachment to you he refused to budge on.

Along the path outside Draco peered up at you and stated, “He wants me to kill Dumbledore.”

“That explains why he wants me to find a place in the school.”

Draco, “A place, you mean work there?”

“I would assume so. In the least I could manage a job at Hog’s Head or something. Patricia and all them managed to sneak in, no doubt I could manage it.”

Draco, “We’re not actually going to do this, are we?”

You flashed him a plotting grin comforting him greatly, “Dad is off today, I think it best we invite Dumbledore over for some tea.”

.

Grimmauld Place was revealed for you soon enough after a drive using your father’s bike left hidden inside the front gates. Riding the bike into the garage door revealed by the front door you parked and climbed off of it adjusting the hem of your jeans over your heeled boots then you made the walk upstairs. The sound of soft chatter grew and by the time you had reached the dining room you recognized the sound of the Headmaster in question speaking with your father and Minerva. Turning the last corner you caught sight of him and his grin spotting you entering the room, “Ah, Miss Jaqi herself.”

Your father turned and you flashed the pair a grin at his calling out, “Pumpkin, Dumbledore here was just talking about you.”

Taking the seats across from the Professors you accepted the cup of tea Minerva poured for you and took a sip at her saying, “Glad we caught you. Day off?”

You nodded lowering your cup, “Just back from Riddle’s.” Making their expressions drop.

Draco, “About that, we should probably tell you,”

In Draco’s glance at you Dumbledore asked, “Another target?”

You nodded and replied, “You.”

All he did was nod in return, then you glanced at your father in Draco’s saying, “Surely we could think of something?”

After your next sip you stated, “Or we could just kill you first.”

Making your father smirk and say, “We have been getting quite good at that.”

Turning your head again you caught Dumbledore’s own plotting grin saying, “I am certain we can discuss those details later. Until then, the reason I came over was to offer you in fact, a position.”

“Position?”

He nodded, “Yes, and also I had wished to request your aid in another matter as well pertaining to my offer of employment.”

After a glance at your father you asked, “What sort of employment?”

“Potions Professor,”

“Potions, what about Severus?”

Dumbledore chuckled and said, “Oh, that is part of my request for aid. You see, I intend to try to get Professor Slughorn under employment again, meaning Severus would be moved to Defense Professor.”

“But, Slughorn is a Potions Professor, why would you need me?”

Behind you Snape entered saying, “Because Slughorn has always been an OWL and NEWTS level Professor.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Exactly. You would be filling the position to teach the first through fourth years.”

You looked to Snape and he stated, “It is a great offer, and no doubt you are the only candidate I would have as my replacement, even over Slughorn.”

“And if he doesn’t wish to return? Regulus had to talk him off the ledge nearly when we met him, thought we were there to kill him.”

Dumbledore chuckled and your dad said, “See, told you she would be able to help calm him down.”

Dumbledore, “If he does not wish to return then we would be offering you the full position, if you would be willing to accept it.”

In a glance at Barty who nodded after sipping on his cup of tea he poured himself you looked back to Dumbledore and nodded, “Why not, I mean, I could always go to Severus for advice if I get stuck on possible lessons.”

Snape chuckled and set a journal down in front of you, “I assumed you might be in need of a few pointers. Copies of my lesson plans in case you need them. Though I doubt you would not be able to discover your own footing in time.”

“You knew about this?”

Snape, “I had assumed if you were to accept a teaching position Potions is where you would be started out.”

Barty chuckled and said, “Besides, who better than to instill safety in the future students than the one who slapped Riddle across the face and lived to tell about it.”

Narrowing your gaze at him he smirked back at you and you took another sip of your tea starting to look at the first listed potions Dumbledore again stated, “It hopefully won’t take long to convince him. Just need to pop by and grab Harry.”

Looking up at him again you asked, “Harry?”

Minerva, “Oh yes, if he does decide to teach again you and Harry would be a lovely prize to lure him back again.”

Draco, “Prize?”

Snape, “Yes. He likes to collect students he deems to be of great value to the world. Myself, Barty, Lucius and Regulus included.”

You looked to your dad who shook his head, “I wasn’t up to snuff in potions class. Remus nearly made the cut but he missed a few classes too many.”

Pt 52

[selfignitingimagines]

Theo- So Much More

Request-  Could you do 6 with theo, that would be really cute!!

6.  “I might have gotten mad at the brat in front of me in line and told him Santa wasn’t real. Now I’m being detained by mall security and I need you to rescue me.”

A/N- First holiday imagine! Hope you guys enjoy it!

You were halfway buried in a pile of skirts when you heard a muffled announcement over the mall loudspeaker. Tucked under all the clothes you had been holding for Lydia, you didn’t quite make out what it said, but she did.

“Y/n did you hear that?” the redhead asked.

You shifted the mass of clothing in front of your face so she could actually see it. “Sorry, I was kind of busy drowning in all of your clothes.”

She rolled her green eyes and scooped them out of your arms, dropping them down on the dressing room floor. “They said your name over the loudspeaker. They want you to come to the security office.”

You blinked. “What? Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but it might have something to do with the chimera we let loose in the mall.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Theo’s a person, Lydia, not a rabid animal. Besides, we left him with Malia and Stiles!”

She didn’t look convinced. “Let’s just hope he didn’t rip anyone’s throat out.”

You huffed and reached for the dressing room door. “I’ll text you when I figure out what’s going on.”

She shrugged, and lifted up a skirt to examine it.  “That’s fine. I’ll probably be a while anyway.”

You slipped out of the dressing room and left H&M, searching for a map of the mall. The security office was all the way across the building, so you headed that way, worrying about Theo the entire time.

It hadn’t been long since he had helped Scott defeat the hunters targeting every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills. He might not have been perfect, and he had definitely made mistakes, but he was changing. You had seen it when he had taken away Gabe’s pain, even though the guy tried to kill all of you. It was that small bit of mercy that you never suspected Theo was capable of that made you see him differently.

For him, you had always been different. Scott might have agreed to give him another chance, but he was going to have to change, and he would need someone to help him. That someone was you. When Scott asked,  you were hesitant, but he ultimately begged you, saying you were the only one able to put your judgement aside and help.

“Do you think you can do me this favor?” he had pleaded.

“You already owe me a lot of favors, McCall.”

“I know, I know. And if you need me, I’ll be there. But just this once, I need you, and there’s no one else that can do it.”

“Besides,” Stiles had interjected. “Theo thinks you’re hot.”

So there you were, walking past crowds of holiday shoppers on your way to Theo, wondering if you had failed him. When you got to the office, you gave the tired-looking security guard your name, and he led you back to a small office. Inside it was a bench, and Theo was sitting there with his arms crossed over his chest, looking bored.

When he met your eyes, you looked so disappointed in him that he began to feel terrible. Did you really care about him this much?

Then he remembered what he was there for, and he smirked. “Can I leave now?”

“Yeah,” the guard grunted. “Just watch yourself.”

You blinked, looking from him to the guard. “Wait, what? Theo what did you do?”

Theo looped his arm through yours, causing you to blush, and pulled you out of the office. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Theo!” you snapped, pulling him to the side of the walkway, away from the crowds of people and closer to the food court. “I thought we were working on being human.”

“I was being human,” he informed you. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I vouched for you,” you grumbled. “Scott wanted me to help you, and now you go and get thrown in mall jail…”

Theo rolled his eyes. “It’s not that serious, Y/n.”

“What did you do?” you asked through gritted teeth.

He huffed. “I was waiting in line for Santa with Stiles and Malia. He wanted to get her picture. And the kid in front of us was being a total brat, and it was getting on my nerves, okay? So I told him Santa wasn’t real.”

You blinked at him. “What? Is that it?”

“Yes!” he cried. “It wasn’t a problem until his mom called security on me.”

“What did Stiles and Malia do?”

“Pretended like they didn’t know me,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked a little hurt, but in their defense, he did try to kill them at one point in time.

You sighed. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Why?” he demanded. “Because you don’t want your little project to fail?”

You recoiled, suddenly angry. “Is that what you think you are to me?”

He paused, suddenly confused. “Am...am I not?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “No,” you said softly. “You’re so much more.”

You began to turn away, but he grabbed your hand and tugged you back. You raised an eyebrow. “What are you-”

Before you could finish, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled your closer. When his lips met yours, you felt all rational thought fly out of your head. It didn’t matter that the others didn’t trust him. It didn’t matter that Scott had basically pawned him off on you because him and the others couldn’t handle him. You had grown to know him better than anyone else ever could, and he had told you things he had never told anyone else. Maybe he had made some mistakes, but he was changing. Little did you know he was doing it for you.

When he finally pulled away, he stayed close, running his thumb along your cheek. “I didn’t think you would ever feel the same way.”

“Theo, I-”

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Stiles demanded.

You whirled around to find Stiles and Malia staring at you in shock. They both had sodas and pretzels in their hands.

“Y/n,” Stiles said, through a mouthful of food, while slowly raising his hands as if Theo was a wild animal. “Do you need help?”

“Oh, shut up!” you snapped.

Malia elbowed him the side. “Stiles, don’t piss her off. We need her to drive us home.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Are you guys ready to go?”

Malia nodded. “I got my picture with Santa!”

“That’s great, Malia.” You smiled, and reached into your pocket to text Lydia. Where are you?

Look to your left.

Sure enough, Lydia was sitting down at a table in the food court with her five shopping bags resting on the surrounding seats. She grinned at you from where she sat, eagerly typing on her phone.

You looked down again and found yourself blushing furiously at her text.

I saw that little moment, by the way. I support you 100%.

Theo smiled and squeezed your hand, and the four of you headed over to Lydia. “Find what you wanted?”

She smiled brightly. “Yep. Even without your help. It looks like you found something you wanted too.”

You flushed and shot her a sharp look as she gathered up her bags. She winked at you. “At least he didn’t rip someone’s throat out.”

You opened your mouth to snap at her, but Theo just placed a hand on your back and shook his head. You smiled to yourself as you headed out of the mall. Maybe he was teaching you something too.

[wolfeyeslonelynights]

The Punisher Au drabble dabble

“Is this what you came back from Hell for? For fucking revenge? Is that what you think this is what you’re about now?  Because  I -“

Theo tuned out the young man next to him, a twenty something newbie at some small newspaper, was practically jogging trying to keep up with him. He hadn’t expected the kid to peel away from the crowd around the crime scene, blue eye sparking as they met his. He had quickened his steps just a little - not enough to draw attention and apparently not enough to keep this eager puppy from catching up. Dark hair falling over his forehead in a forgotten mess, blue eyes wide with an odd mix of anger and burning curiosity, he hadn’t even asked who Theo was; just started in on the fucking questions.

“This shouldn’t be your life now you know?”

Theo waited until they turned into an alley - feeling a strange sense of panic at the fact that the younger guy hadn’t notice he was being led away from the publics eye and safety. As soon as they had gone a dozen steps he rounded on the handsome guy. A ignored clatter as the small notebook fell from the reporters hand from Theo gripping his wrist against the wall hard in his. There was a small gasp as chest pressed together. There wasn’t a goddam lick of fear in the asshole eyes.

Theo flashed otherworldly eyes - knowing when the guy saw the glow of too bright amber. Still no fear and he had just about enough of this bullshi-

“You’re like me?”

Then..then Theo was leaning back, loosening his grip as the kid flash brilliant gold back at him. Well this changed his plans in a minimal way, but now he was the one with the curiosity. Stupid kid spoke before he could even open his mouth.

“If you’re a werewolf and you are who I think you are, which would The Punisher…a terrible name by the way but we can come back to that. Anyway how can your eyes still be yellow if you’ve killed people? Because the only way I know you can keep that color is it you don’t kill people. Right? That’s what my alpha -“

Theo let go of one hand to slam his fist next to the pretty face in front of him.That shut him up but didn’t stop the narrowing of eyes. He was kind of wondering why the other wolf wasn’t shoving him up and away from his space.

He ignored the slight pleasure of being so close.

“You always talk this fucking much kid?”

The reporter shoved him away at that, finally, showing some fucking self-preservation although it seemed more anger. Theo let him, taking steps back as the young man pent to pick up his notebook and pen. Who uses those anymore? Wasn’t recording and cellphones the thing now instead of something so old school. “Fuck off it’s what I do for a living.”

There was a brief reprise as Theo simply stared at him while the guy straighten out his clothes. It was kind of irritating that he didn’t fix his hair. Curling his fist he back stepped until he was leaning against the opposite wall.

“What the hell do you want kid?”

This was met with a serious blue gaze and he felt a zing at the intensity.

“Well for starters, why is a werewolf who was publicly known to have been dead for over a year suddenly showing up and taking out every gang or mafia connection possible?”

Suddenly exhaustion was weighing Theo down. It had been a long night and the Wendigo’s had been a particularly hungry bunch. He was injured and wanted to sit down. And maybe he was a little lonely because the kid was right, he had been dead for over a year and the return had been one hell of a roller coaster. It took a few moments, him chewing this lip while the gaze never wavered before Theo made a decision he knew he was going to regret.

Pushing off the wall he started back down the alley, slower so that the punk could catch up.

“If I tell you, will you publish the truth?”

There was a slight pause then:

“What the fuck do you think I write? Bullshit? That is not why I became a reporter.”

Theo shrugged. “I don’t read the papers really so I wouldn’t know.”

This caused a ridiculous amount of sputtering before his path was blocked by the puppy again.

“I am Liam Dunbar of the McCall Paper you piece of shit so why don-“

Theo didn’t hear the rest, his vision leeching away as the ground made an appearance in front of his face. The world went black.

……………….

Theo returned to the world to the words “Holy shit he was a heavy motherfucker.”

Groaning he rolled onto his side, or that was the plan because what happened was he rolled and kept going. Falling off of something and onto his face and injured shoulder.

“Fuck are you okay?”

Squinting one eye open he saw a new face, dammit, peering down at him. This was dark skinned kid with friendly eyes and a currently worried face. Theo tried to fight down the vague sense of panic that his world was going to be turn upside down.

Or it might be that he was going to puke.

Struggling up as his stomach roiled he croaked out a “Bathroom.” There was a mutter curse, a muffled shout of “he’s gonna blow” before warm strong arms wrapped around his chest and hauled his ass to a small bathroom. His head clanked painfully against the toilet bowl.

“Fuck, fuck sorry we’re too big to both fit in here.”

Theo did’t care just pushed up and over as his stomach started its revolt. His world narrowed to the sour taste and heaving until he was plastered between the toilet and tub. If he had energy he would have moved, tried to look intimidating but instead he was trying to curl his sweaty body about the cold porcelain. Someone placed a cold washcloth on the back of his neck and he groaned

“Guys he’s still alive!”

Flinching at the quiet shout Theo mustered the strength to kick a foot at the bastard while cracking a lid to glare single eye. Liam grinned unrepentant at him while switching the washcloth out with a new one. They stayed that way for a quiet moment, Theo taking the time to let his body decide if it was ready to play nice or not, before he tried to speak.

Liam beat him to it, go fucking figure, rushing in a very rapid whisper.

“I told my roommates that I saw you get beat up so don’t worry your stupidly named identity is safe but when I dropped you on the couch you kind of flashed eyes so they know your a little wolf although that should be safe since they are used to it and in fact Corey is a hybrid as well.”

This caught Theo’s attention. “As well?” He started to push himself up, slapping away the helping hand and glaring when Liam tried to help. He ignored the responding scowl.

“Well yeah, I can smell that you aren’t completely wolf. I didn’t at first because I try not to pry but well carrying you over my shoulder I noticed you got a different scent. Don’t worry it smells good but..different. Corey confirmed although he is different too. So what are you mixed with?”

Monsters was what Theo wanted to say but dragging himself up on the lip of the tub and seeing the open gaze waiting on him, he held it back.

“Coyote.”

He waited for the inevitably barrage of questions but instead got a thoughtful nod. Wait, he smelled good? Jesus that wasn’t what he needed to focus on. Slowly stretching himself out he took in the taxi colored bathroom and the two other shadows hovering out of sight of the doorway. It didn’t fail his notice that Liam was crouched in the middle of the way. Natural protector for a talkative little shit.

“Where am I?”

This had a head poking around the doorway, causing a surprising deep growl from Liam as Theo’s zeroed in on who had to be the other chimera. The pale face and wide eyes were effectively blocked as Liam moved into his path - the blue eyes finally shutting down as the threat Theo should have always been seen as kicked in. It was an attractive look on that face but he felt a twinge of guilt.

“You are in my home and anyone who is in my home is under my protection. Got it?” It was a low gravelly threat and Theo couldn’t help the small snarl that loosen his lips before his hand slipped on the tub and he tumbled backwards with a painful thud.

“Fucking aye!”

It broke the tension though, as Liam laughed out loud, arms dropping from the stand off position to reach forward to yank Theo out of the bathtub. He nose crinkling surprisingly delicately.

“So I know we just met and this might be crazy rude but…you stink.”

Theo’s hackles raised but before he could snarl the dark skinned man was pushing his way into the already too crowded bathroom.

“Liam, man, stop. Hi I’m Mason and if you want I think I have some spare clothes that would fit,” he gesture to the tub and shower behind Theo, “why don’t you take a shower and then we can eat and talk?”

He must have seen the absolute refusal on Theo’s face because Liam spoke up too.

“Look, we know people, and this place has…precautions around it so nothing can come in out without us knowing so don’t worry you’re safe okay? Take your time.”

Then before he couldn’t do more than grunt they were rapidly backpedaling, the Mason kid gabbing the door to close as they left. When it clicked he let his shoulder droop.

How the hell did he get into this situation?

It was a far drop from the bathroom window that rattled his bones painfully but Theo considered it a success as he limped away from the building. It was in a sorta nice part of town - one of those places in a city that felt more like purgatory then heaven or hell. Bad things happened at night but generally not during the day. It was interesting that the puppy said the building had some kind of protection. He hoped it did.

He oddly hope he didn’t bleed on their couch too much either.

Grunting he started into the night. It had been a mistake to let the reporter follow. It was bad news to make connections like that. But damn it had been kind of nice to talk to someone that wasn’t actively trying to decapitate him. Well, listen to someone talk at least because the puppy sure as fuck didn’t let him get a word in otherwise.

He chuckled quietly.

Damn it had been a long night and he was exhausted.

…….

Theo hadn’t expected to see the puppy again - their locations weren’t even remotely close to each other. Here the reporter was though; looking all butt hurt as he folded his arms over his chest and glared at Theo.

For his part, having literally just crashed a Kanima drug deal, he was a bit blind sided that the young werewolf was waiting for him at the end of the block.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

This was greeted with a sucker punch to Theo’s face sending him backwards a couple feet. Holy shit kid could hit!

“Who the hell jumps out of a third story window like some kind of James Bond?”

Theo responded by punching Liam back, snarling in his face.

“Someone trying to save your life!”

Liam’s eyes were yellow now, sharpened teeth poking out of his mouth as he panted. It was a pretty crazy reaction to one punch and Theo briefly wondered if the kid was not as in control as he appeared in the alley. It didn’t matter though, he could hear a couple Kanima’s trying to sneak up behind. Sighing, he grabbed the angry wolf’s hand and started running.

“What do you think you’re doing asshole?”

Theo snarled and yanked him faster forward.

“Saving your life!”

Then the hissing of scales and teeth reached the younger’s ears because suddenly he was yanking Theo forward with a painfully tight grip on his hand. Theo caught a flash of blue.

“Don’t worry I know a place!”

He was going to get them killed.

..

“Why am I not surprised this was ‘your place’?”

Liam glared as he closed the curtains to his office. Like blocking out the windows was going to make a difference. Theo instead leaned against the wall and pushed it as leverage to kicked the small couch against the door. The crash caused the young wolf to jump before he scowled.

“Really? Was that necessary?”

Theo shrugged, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it to the other. Liam caught it easily but instead of putting it on he frowned at the chimera.

“What is this for?”

Rolling his eyes, Theo busied himself with checking the few weapons he had on him.

“For our midnight stroll through the park. It’s for protection dumbass, the kanima’s are already in the building and that jacket is thick so hopefully it’ll help you not get paralyzed.” He paused thoughtfully before continuing “Although you not being able to talk might be nice.”

“Ah piss off ..hey I never got your name.”

Theo remained stubborn, eyes on the door, refusing to answer. It lasted ten second before Liam stood in his vision - a short angry werewolf wearing his special coat.

“Nope, not getting out of it this time dickhead. I’m Liam, you are?”

Theo was already shaking his head, trying to nudge him out of the path of danger.

“Safer not knowing - things that know my name tend to end up dead.”

When Liam remained stubbornly in his way Theo growled and shove shoved him out of the way. This was responded with a punch to the nose. He wiped the blood away and glared murderously.

“Dammit! Let me just tell you asshole I have been in my share of fights - human and supernatural - and I am more than capable of taking care of myself -“

A slam against the door had them turning together - shoulders a breathe away from each other. Theo grounded his teeth at the current situation. One he had promised to never let happen again. He didn’t have time to push the other werewolf behind him before the door was yanked out of it’s place. Liam let out a choked laugh.

“Guess the couch didn’t help.”

Then two Kanima’s were crawling on the walls into the room; each going a different way. The werewolves turns with them, backs pressing together and Theo tried not to let it feel right.

……

“I’m taking you home.”

“Is that a proposition puppy?”

This resulting in Theo being dropped to the ground before Liam was hauling him up again. The beta’s expression bland.

“Oops.”

Theo wanted to snarl but being paralyzed was making his rough whisper hard enough as it is. They stumbled along the street, appearing as too overly drunk people to others, as Liam took all of Theo’s weight. If he wasn’t so pissed he would be impressed at the show of strength.

“Why did you take that hit anyway? It was aimed at me.”

It had been. They had been making good work of the two creatures - naturally covering the other’s blindspot and maneuvering like they had been doing this for years. Theo had never worked with anyone like that - he didn’t like to work with other people period. It was exactly why he had seen the stinger coming for the other’s neck and swing around to take it in the shoulder instead.

The decision had been surprisingly easy; what surprised him was the unfiltered rage it had caused the other wolf. Who had then taken care of the remaining creature with horrifying efficiency. For a moment Theo had wondered who was the real monster. His thoughts just have been running similar to Liams because the puppy spoke with a quiet hesitance.

“I have a control issue.”

Yeah, Theo could see that. Just as he could see the pained expression on the beta’s face from the corner of his vision. He fought an internal struggle for a moment before whispering.

“Theo.”

Blue eyes blinked at him. Theo swallowed thickly.

“My name is Theo.”

And the smile that he was rewarded with was worth it.

“Theo I am taking you home - where you will eat and shower and sleep and yes, I will punch you if you say no.”

“No.”

The smile was replaced with the scowl again but Theo spoke before him - for once.

“They will target your home - We go to mine but get a cab it’s in the low side.”

There was no hesitation in Liam’s movements at the mention of going to the low side, instead the jerk smile again and dropped him against a garbage can to hail down a taxi.

“Asshole.”

The answering grin was almost too bright.

……

There was too much chaos, too much blood, and Theo had to get Liam out of here.

“Puppy!”

If they had been at his dingy home, Theo would have grinned at the promise of violence in the beta’s eyes. Their routine, and damn it near killed him to admit that, over the last few months was generally:

Theo finding a gang to ruin or destroy - generally getting injured in multiple ways Liam hunting him down - Theo was convinced it was by his “good” scent but Liam is surprisingly staying mute on the subject. Theo getting his ass reamed while being dragged home by Liam. Liam bitching about Theo’s slower healing abilities while patching him up They argue until they crash out on the bed in exhaustion Liam leaving before Theo wakes - breakfast made and waiting for him on the chipped counter.

On the rare nights he wasn’t out hunting, Liam would still just show up like he was invited. After an argument on why he was even there - no heat in either of their voices - they would end up in a strange tangled pile of limbs on the two cushion couch. Liam called it a loveseat but Theo refused to use that title. Why the hell would anyone name furniture like that? Theo didn’t own a tv so they either used Liam’s cellphone or talked about random shit.

It was normal.

It was dangerous.

He wanted it to never end, to get better, for them to get closer. He wanted Liam to leave and never come near him again so that he stayed safe.

But right now his little puppy was too far away from him and the Ghost Riders were closing in and Theo’s stolen heart was a distracting staccato in his chest.

“Liam!”

A gun was raised and Theo’s vision bled. Suddenly his arm was around the snarling wolf’s waist, physically hauling him back and around a corner. Bullets ricochet off the walls. He shoved Liam down the hallway before throwing them both into the stairway. He didn’t wait to turn around and kick the door shut, pushing the younger wolf down the stairs at a neck break pace.

“Go! Go! What the fuck were you doing back there moron! Supernatural guns Liam!”

It was ominous how quiet the beta was, his answer the thunder of their feet on the steel stairs. Five flights later and they were pushing the exit door open and racing down the street. People’s faces were a blur as they sprinted, naturally heading to a safe place.

When the door to Theo’s home banged shut, and his protective measures in place, did he turn to tear into Liams ear just to find himself slammed against the door. The reporter was completely wolfed out, a bloody trail down his lower lip on either side from his canines. Theo had seen Liam’s explosive anger only twice and this seem different, more potent and focused.

“Puppy?”

The fist twisting his jacket tightened until the collar was cutting in Theo’s throat but he didn’t move. Instead he thought over how Liam had gotten in front of him when the attack started, how he roared and extended his claws. Then he was snarling despite the pain.

“I never wanted your help! Don’t fucking protect me!”

Liam growled and Theo opened his mouth to tell the only person he cared about to get out, to leave, to forget him and whatever they had and never come back.

Then Liam kissed him.

It wasn’t a pleasant kiss; the beta’s fangs were sharp and cut into Theo’s lips, the grip on his jacket hadn’t loosened at all. It was painful and exhilarating and he found himself kissing back. After a moment his jacket was let go so that he could step closer and wound his arms about Liams shoulders. Breaking the kiss he let Liam bury his head into his shoulder while wrapping his arms around the chimera’s back.

“You stupid son of a bitch.”

Theo pondered that post kiss reaction and decided things could be worse.

[jasntodds]

Hurricane || part 2

Author: @punkof-pop Pairing: Theo Raeken x Reader Words: 1,805 Warnings: Angst Request: Anon- TheoXreader imagine with prompts 4, 9, 36, 48 Song: Hurricane (stripped version) - Halsey A/N: This is way shorter than I thought it was gonna be? But please let me know what you think and feel free to send in your requests! Prt. 1, Prt. 2, Prt. 3 Masterlist Prompt list

"Y/n!" Theo yells but you ignore him and continue to walk with blood rushing through your veins.

You know you can't turn around to even look at him. You'll see the pain and pity him. You'll come to a stop, let him explain himself, and forgive whatever bullshit he'll feed you. So, you keep walking. You can't allow yourself to be manipulated by him anymore.

With a throbbing hand that was surely broken, you made your way to Stiles's house. With Scott almost demanding everyone stay clear of him, you knew he'd have nowhere to be besides his house.

"What-what are you doing here?" Stiles asks as he opens the door.

"Getting your side of the damn story and coming clean about mine. Why else?"

"Your side?" His eyes squint as he opens the door and allows you inside.

"What happened? Scott really wasn't giving many details."

"What's your side?" He questions as the both of you make your way to his bedroom.

"I asked first."

He lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. "Donovan, he came after me and," he pauses, staring at his murder board. "I hit him with a wrench to get him off of me and we ended up in the library and I was climbing the scaffolds and he was right there so I pulled one of the hooks and everything fell. When he fell, he fell on a rod and was kind of impaled."

"So, self-defense." You hold your dominant hand in your opposite hand, trying to get the throbbing to stop.

"Yeah, but," He shakes his head as if to be disappointed in himself. "I didn't feel bad about it."

"You can feel good about it and it still be self-defence. He was gonna kill you and your dad." You nod, reassuring him, something Scott should be doing and not you.

"Yeah, try telling Scott that." He scoffs with a hung head. He furrows his eyebrows, looking back to you. "What'd you do to your hand?"

"Punched Theo in the face." You chuckle looking to your hand that was slowly bruising.

"You punched him in the face?"

"I've been seeing him. Clearly, I got played so I hit him." You shrug with the roll of your eyes.

"Wait. You were seeing that psychotic killer?"

"I might have terrible taste in guys but I really thought he wasn't that bad. I mean, he's always been nice to me."

Stiles's face is cold and hard but he allows himself to sigh anyway. "I'm sorry."

"Should have listened. Ya live and learn." You shrug it off, trying your hardest to ignore your heart that was breaking. You shouldn't feel anything but hatred for Theo but feelings don't just disappear. It takes times. "But, we gotta focus on convincing Scott that Theo is exactly the person you've been trying to tell us he was."

"Sounds good to me." His faces loosens with relief. "We should also probably get your hand checked out first though." Stiles points to your hand you nod in agreement.

Stiles takes you out to his jeep and drives you to Beacon Hills Memorial where Miss McCall is working. She takes you in for an x-ray rather quick but you and Stiles lie on how you broke your hand, knowing it would just cause more harm than good. Stiles was quick to say you slammed your hand in the door.

Once your x-rays came back, Miss McCall started wrapping your hand in a soft cast. You didn't actually break your hand but you did fracture a few small bones and needed to be in a soft cast for a few weeks. You weren't too happy about it but there wasn't anything you could do about it now.

Once your hand is done being wrapped and your paperwork is filled out, you head back to the jeep but you decide to have Stiles just take you home instead of going to find Scott. Theo has been blowing up your phone and you'd love to just turn it off but as a family rule, your phone has to stay on unless you're at home.

"So, Scott is probably a little right." You say quietly as Stiles pulls against the curb.

"What?"

"I mean, like let him cool down a day and I'll come with you tomorrow and talk to him. I just think Theo has gotten under everyone's skin and in everyone's head and everyone needs to take a day away from each other."

"If I don't do something now then-"

"Stiles." You shake your head. "You gotta trust me. His whole thing is that you're snapping. Let today cool everyone down to show you're not. It was just Theo exaggerating."

"Right." He nods and runs a hand through his hair. "Tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning." You shut the door with a soft nod.

"Hey, y/n." Stiles says before you could walk away. "I hate him," He swallows hard. "But, are you okay?"

You bite your lip and lean against the open window of the jeep. "Yeah, should have known better, ya know?"

He gives a sympathetic nod. "I wish, I wish I wasn't right...for your sake."

"Yeah, you and me both." You wiggle your fractured hand as a joke to help lighten the mood. "Well, I'm gonna go inside and nap and pretend Theo Raeken doesn't exist. You should do the same."

"I'll see ya." Stiles gives you a grateful smile before you make your way into your house.

You walk into your house that's once again empty. You look at the small magnetic whiteboard on your fridge that says your parents were called into work and they'd be back later. They work for the same place so them being called in together is something you're used to. Them being gone for the day works out for you anyway because you are actually able to go your room and nap in peace and quiet, shut out the world. You also won't have to answer any questions about your hand until later which just makes your chest feel a little lighter.

You make your way to your bedroom and change into sweatpants and a hoodie, getting yourself comfortable in bed with your favorite show playing quietly in the background until you're able to fall asleep. Luckily, it didn't take you very long to pass out. Your head hurt from the events and your chest ached from Theo. All you wanted to do was sleep because it was the only time you were able to actually escape the thoughts of Theo and everything he made you feel, all the guilt you feel still liking him even after he fucked your friends over and you.

A constant tapping wakes you up hours later. You groan but drag yourself from your warm bed and go to your window, knowing it would be Theo. You roll your eyes and open the window, but kneel to his level so he can't enter your home.

"What?" You ask sharply.

"Not gonna let me explain?"

"Nope." You shake your head as part of you wants to grab him and pull him inside while the other part wants to take your other fist to his face.

"Come on." Theo pleads. "You gotta let me explain."

"Why? So you can lie to me again?" Your voice reeks of hurt despite how much you're trying to hide it. "So I have a third story to piece together?"

"Just let me in and I'll tell you everything." His eyes are the prettiest green you've ever seen and maybe that's why he's so much trouble. You allow him inside and take a seat on your bed while he stands in front of you. "What do you want to know?"

"Uh, why you told Scott? What you told Scott? Why you didn't just talk to Stiles? Why you didn't help Stiles? Why you didn't tell me anything? Ask me what you should do?" You list the obvious questions.

"Yeah," His cheeks puff with air and he takes a deep breath. "I thought Scott should know since Stiles wasn't going to tell him. I did talk to Stiles and he said he didn't feel bad about it. I just told Scott what I saw. Stiles hit Donovan with the wrench and killed him. If Stiles was capable of killing Donovan, he's capable of killing me, too. I couldn't step in."

"Maybe he wouldn't have killed him, had you helped him. Chimera verses chimera sounds like a better fight than human and chimera. You say you want in with Scott but when the opportunity arises, you don't take it?"

"Wait. What?" His eyes scan you over as if he had never even put the pieces together.

"You're too busy trying to get in with me which doesn't make any sense that you missed your opportunity. Save Stiles, Scott lets you in. Stiles would still hate you." You shake your head with quick raise of your brows. "But he wouldn't have a leg to stand on. He does now. You've been screwing with me, you let Stiles kill someone, you stood by and watched, you told his best friend and tried to pin them against each other. All of that in a matter of twelve hours."

He's silent for a few seconds, something that you're not quite used to with him. He's usually quick with something to back up his reasoning but not now he actually has to think. "Alright, I fucked up." He admits, catching you off guard. "I fucked up but the one thing I didn't do, was screw you over."

"Yeah? And I'm supposed to believe you now?"

"I don't expect you to but I'm hoping you do." His eyes are pleading but you can't tell if he's just trying to manipulate you or if he's being sincere. He convinced Scott that Stiles killed someone in cold blood. Theo has to be good at manipulating people. "Your heartbeat tells me you do."

"I want to." You narrow your eyes a little as you swallow a lump that's formed in your throat. "But, I can't." Your voice shakes as the words fall.

"So, that's it?"

"Yeah." You nod as the back of your eyes start to burn with tears.

"No second chance?"

"I-" You stutter, trying to find the right words. You know that if he does care about you the way he says he does, you're breaking his heart just like he did yours with screwing over Stiles. But, you don't know if he's lying. "I can't give you a second chance." You speak slowly, avoiding his pain-filled eyes.

"You're gonna regret this." His voice is cold but laced with heartbreak as he makes his way back to your window.

"I know." You say as he exits through the window.