#why would you cut the drywall exactly where a thing is under it?

[pancakeke]

finally I can share a visual of my "haunted wall". I'm too afraid to use anything other than those picture frame hangers that secure with tiny nails on this thing :(

this is why I don't "just use a magnet" to find studs. there is some kinda shit going on in there and I doubt the guy who used to own this house was smart enough to know what a stud guard is.

btw when I pick the stud finder up it's because I hit a ridge where it appears a section of drywall has been cut away and then replaced. there's a similar ridge 18 inches below running parallel to it. so I know the previous owner was messing around here.

btw #2 if you know stuff and can explain what's going on here to me I'm begging you to respond. there are a couple other weird spots in this wall within about 3 feet of here too.

[sluttywonwoo]

something more || h.js x reader

Summary: it’s a tale as old as time- your roommate walks in on you masturbating and things escalate from there

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

additional warnings: additional warnings: masturbation, unprotected sex, choking, degradation, lowkey spit play

“Joshua! Come look at this!”

There were a lot of things you liked about your apartment. Cheap rent, nice views, mostly functioning air conditioning… however the gaping hole in your bedroom ceiling was not one of them. It had started out as a small leak a couple of weeks ago, water dripping from some imperceptible hole in the plaster that had slowly turned into a trickle and then a steady stream, until finally the ceiling had collapsed in on itself, unable to hold the weight of all of the water any longer. You had filed a maintenance request when you first noticed the leak, but it had gone ignored. Maybe now, now that your bed was covered in drywall and pipe water, now that you could see into the apartment above yours, your concerns would be important enough to be addressed.

“What is it?” your roommate called back.

You heard him approach and waited for the gasp that would follow. “Y/n…” he hissed, one hand over his mouth, the other gripping your shoulder in shock.

“I know.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

You sighed and took a tentative step forward into your room, wincing when your sock made contact with your damp rug.

“I’ll call maintenance,” Joshua offered and turned on his heel to grab his phone.

“I’ll… try and figure my shit out, I guess.”

His footsteps faded into the background as he retreated into his own room and you looked around your room with a frown, surveying the space for anything salvageable. You were surprised you hadn’t started crying yet. But apparently your brain hadn’t quite caught up with your eyes because all you felt was a numb sort of apathy as you gazed at the mess in front of you.

There was no way you could sleep in your room tonight. Even if you managed to dry everything and clear the debris, there was still a giant fucking hole in the ceiling. The mere thought of trying to fall asleep underneath it made you uneasy. You would have to crash somewhere else.

“They said not to touch anything-” Joshua shouted from the other room. You froze in place, afraid you’d already done something you weren’t supposed to and decided to join him in the kitchen instead.

Your socks left wet footprints against the concrete floor as you padded over to where Joshua was. He shot you a look of sympathy as you peeled them off and tossed them to the side, shifting his attention back to the notepad on the table in front of him to write something the person on the other end of the phone was saying.

The pen hovered above the paper momentarily, and Joshua rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tomorrow? Is that the earliest- yeah that’s fine.”

The little hope you’d had that the issue would be resolved tonight fizzled, and you blew out a breath of frustration. You pulled out your phone and began scrolling through your contacts, mentally making notes of who might let you spend the night at their place.

Joshua thanked whoever he was talking to and hung up, pushing the notebook away from him with a groan.

“They’ll be here tomorrow morning,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “What are you doing?”

“Texting Seungcheol.”

Joshua made a face. “Seung- why?”

“I’m going to ask if I can sleep over.”

“You haven’t talked to him in months,” your roommate protested.

“He’ll say yes to me,” you assured him.

“That’s because he expects you to sleep with him.”

“I know.”

“Y/n! You’re not seriously going to have sex with him in exchange for a place to stay, are you?”

“Well when you put it like that…” you trailed off and sighed. “Whatever, I’m not above it. It’s been a while since I’ve been laid anyway.”

“Seungcheol couldn’t even last thirty seconds-” he paused when you gave him a look, “I know from what you’ve told me. Not because I slept with him.”

“You know saying that makes it sound like that’s exactly why you know.”

“Please, y/n, I have taste,” he said matter-of-factly, easily dodging a swat from you. “You’re not sleeping at Seungcheol’s,” he said as if he’d decided, as if he had final say on the matter.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Joshua?” you demanded. “I can’t sleep in my own room, and you know I can’t sleep on the couch so what do you suggest?”

“Take my room,” he offered simply, shrugging like it should have been obvious.

“What?”

“You can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. You don’t even have to fuck me for it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well what do I have to do for it?”

You could tell Joshua wanted to say ‘nothing’, but knew you wouldn’t accept his offer without feeling like you could give him anything in return so he settled for “fried rice”.

“You want fried rice?”

“I want your fried rice,” he clarified with a grin. “You know it’s my favorite.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Fine. Thank you, Joshua.”

He gave you a knowing smile and nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

-

Joshua kept his room colder than yours. Your wet hair from the shower only made the chill worse, but you didn’t want to mess with the thermostat and throw off how he liked things. You were even hesitant to touch the pillows on his bed. You knew Joshua wouldn’t care, but you still wanted to respect his space.

Joshua was literally the most easygoing person you knew, which offered a nice balance in contrast to your high-strung, perfectionist personality. One time you’d bled on his sheets while you were just hanging out in his room and he was completely unphased. He just threw the bedding in the wash like nothing had happened and mentioned that he’d been needing to wash them anyway while you practically cried in embarrassment.

“It’s okay, y/n. I’ve had girlfriends before.”

“Yeah, but I’m not your girlfriend!”

“We live together, close enough.”

To be fair, you knew that this kind of thing happened all the time, but you were still mortified. You didn’t even pay attention to the rest of the movie you and Joshua had been watching. To this day you didn’t know how the Lego Batman Movie ended.

“You need something to sleep in?” Joshua had asked on your way from the bathroom back to his room, having noted your state of undress.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to make the trips to and from the shower in nothing more than a towel, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to go back into your room tonight, and that most of your clothes were still damp from the ceiling anyway.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

He just nodded from where he was on the couch and gestured past you in the direction of his door. “You know where everything is. Pick out whatever.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You’d chosen an old t-shirt from a gas station souvenir shop, one of many in his collection of road-trip tees and a pair of panties you had managed to snag from your dresser before Joshua had yelled at you to get out of your room earlier.

You hung your towel on a hook attached to the back of his closet door and sprawled out on his bed, pulling the comforter around yourself.

It was late. It had been late for a while, but you and Joshua were night owls. You both kept busy schedules, so at night you liked to take some time for yourselves before bed. Still though, you knew you should sleep. But you couldn’t.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to relax your muscles.

If you were being honest, the idea of getting laid had been exciting and you were a bit disappointed it wasn’t going to happen for you tonight. It had been a while since you’d been with anyone, and you were craving the intimacy, even if it was coming from someone like Dylan.

Your skin was beginning to feel hot and sticky, and you pushed the covers off of you in your frustration. You had just been cold a few moments ago, and all it had taken to make you sweat was the mere thought of sex. It was pathetic, you were pathetic, and you knew it.

Your fingers inched toward the waistband of your panties almost unconsciously before you stopped yourself. You were in Joshua’s bed. You shouldn’t be getting yourself off in his bed. That was wrong. It wasn’t your room, there must be some sort of boundary for this sort of thing. Roommate code. What if Joshua walked in on you- no. You clenched your fists by your sides and sighed. The idea of your roommate walking in on you with your hand down your pants should not be turning you on. It should be having the opposite effect. But you couldn’t help it.

You had managed to suppress your attraction to him for this long, being in his bed shouldn’t be the breaking point. Maybe it was because his sheets smelled like him, or maybe it was because you were wearing his shirt…fuck, you wished you had your vibrator. The little pink toy was sitting in the drawer of your bedside table, likely water damaged beyond repair. God, hadn’t you lost enough?

“Forgive me, Shua,” you whispered hoarsely into the empty room as you resigned yourself to your pleasure.

Your pussy had won over your head and you’d given into your desire. Familiar sparks of arousal flickered faintly in your stomach when you brushed the tips of your fingers over your panties. You weren’t shocked to discover that the material was already damp from where your wetness had seeped through.

You tried to think about Seungcheol, about your celebrity crushes, about anyone other than the person behind the other side of the door, but your mind kept drifting back to your roommate. You thought about what Joshua’s fingers would feel like instead of your own. They were so much longer than yours… you stifled a moan as you curled a finger into yourself and let your thumb begin to circle your clit, imagining Joshua’s head was buried in between your thighs instead.

Getting yourself to the edge was usually difficult for you without the help of toys or a third party, but you surprised yourself when your thighs began to tense in anticipation as you worked your fingers over your g-spot repeatedly, orgasm just out of reach. You were trying to be as quiet as possible, but you kept letting quiet sighs and curses slip from between your lips as your focus began to blur.

You pictured Joshua pushing himself into you, pictured how his face would scrunch up in pleasure as he felt you clench around his cock for the first time, how he’d kiss your neck and praise you for taking him so well- you bit down on your knuckles to stop yourself from screaming.

The invisible string inside of you snapped right as the door to Joshua’s room swung open and you were forced to rip your hand away from yourself as you came and your pussy clenched around nothing.

The light overhead flicked on and you squinted, groaning at the sudden blinding intrusion.

“Sorry,” Joshua apologized sheepishly. “I just forgot a pillow.”

You used your dry hand, the knuckle-bitten one, to throw him one of the pillows from behind you. He caught it with ease and you thought that would be it, but he zeroed in on your hand, narrowing his eyes at it with a confused expression on his face.

You hoped he couldn’t tell that you were still trembling from the aftershocks of your ruined orgasm, hoped he didn’t question why you were so flushed and breathless.

“What happened to your hand?” he asked, tossing the pillow aside and taking your hand into his own to observe. “You’re bleeding.”

Damn, you hadn’t meant to bite your hand that hard.

“It’s nothing,” you said and tried to yank your hand out of his grasp, but he was holding onto you too tightly.

“I have some Band-Aids in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Shua you don’t have to-”

He was gone before you could finish your sentence, and back before you could protest any further. While he was in the bathroom you hurriedly wiped your other hand on your- his- shirt in an attempt to erase any evidence of what you had been doing just moments before he had interrupted.

“Give me your hand,” Joshua instructed, taking a seat on the bed so that he was facing you.

You outstretched your arm so that he could see the damage and watched as he dabbed a tissue at the specks of blood on your skin, applying pressure to stop the flow.

“It’s just a little scrape,” you insisted.

“Still, we don’t want it to get infected.”

“I guess,” you mumbled.

Once he was sure that you had stopped bleeding he dabbed a tiny bit of Neosporin onto your knuckle and wrapped a Spider-Man Band-Aid around your finger.

“Thank you.”

“Wait, I’m not done!”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to kiss it better.”

You rolled your eyes but gave in, lifting your hand to his face princess style. He pressed a gentle kiss to the Spider-Man Band-Aid and took a moment to admire his work. It was only when he was holding your hand closer that he noticed the indents in all of your other knuckles.

“Why were you biting your hand?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

There was no use in lying about it, the marks on your hand were clearly teeth marks. He would know you were bullshitting if you tried to play it off.

“I wasn’t.”

So much for that.

Joshua blinked. “Show me your other hand.”

“What? No.”

“Show me.”

“No!”

You grabbed the comforter and pulled it tighter to you while Joshua tried to wrestle it from your grasp.

“I swear to God, y/n,” he muttered under his breath.

You put up a good fight, but he was stronger than you and tugged it off of you within seconds of struggling. He pushed you back onto the bed and used his body to pin you to the mattress so that you couldn’t wriggle away. Now that you were stuck underneath him he was able to assess the hand that you had been trying to hide. You whimpered in embarrassment and watched in horror as he brought the hand… brought the hand to his…

“Joshua, what are you doing?” you breathed out.

He looked at you brazenly and then put two of your fingers in his mouth. You shivered as he sucked the arousal, the evidence, from your fingers to confirm his suspicion.

“You’re a liar,” he said finally.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered.

Joshua chuckled to himself and let your hand fall back to your side. “And a brat too.” You scoffed in offense but Joshua just leaned down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “I already knew that, though.”

“Excuse you, but I am fucking delightful!” you argued.

“I never said you weren’t!”

“You just called me a brat!”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

“I hate you.”

“So you… don’t want me to… give you a hand there?” he asked.

You paused. Was he really offering to-

“We’re friends, Joshua. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to.”

You could feel your heart beating in your throat and in your pussy. Joshua was your best friend and your roommate… but was there something more? Right now you wanted him more than you had ever wanted anyone. This couldn’t end well.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

Joshua was back on top of you as soon as the words left your mouth, pressing his lips to yours while one of his hands tangled itself in your hair. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned softly into his mouth. You found yourself wishing the moment could last forever, but you quickly changed your mind when you felt Joshua pressing his thigh up in between your legs. Lazily making out was nothing compared to what he was doing now. He brought a hand to your hip and urged you to move. He guided you until you were rocking back and forth on his thigh at a steady pace.

“Feel good?” he asked.

You could only nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Your panties were the only layer between your pussy and Joshua’s leg, and although they were certainly ruined by now they still provided the means to create friction that went straight to your clit.

Joshua’s hands fiddled with the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing and he tugged at the bottom of it, motioning for it to come off.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Another nod from you and he was whisking the shirt off over your head without a second’s hesitation. He was pulling his own shirt off next, tossing it into a pile on the floor with yours. His fingers found the waistband of your panties soon after, and he played with the elastic impatiently, eager eyes searching yours for approval. You lifted your hips off of the bed so that he could take them off, leaving you completely naked before him.

Joshua let his gaze travel down your body, shamelessly admiring every dimple, curve, and freckle that was now exposed to him. You shifted under him self-consciously, silently wishing you had shaved. If you had known you’d be fucking your best friend, you would have, but it was too late now and you could only hope he wasn’t bothered by a little hair.

“How are you real,” he murmured to himself, earning an eye roll from you. Joshua reached out and dragged a finger through your folds, smiling when you flinched. “So sensitive…” he noted. “Did you cum already?”

“Yes, but it was ruined,” you admitted.

“Poor thing,” he tsked in fake sympathy, bringing his hand back up to his mouth. “Just wanna nother taste. You’re too sweet to resist.”

“Shua,” you whined.

“What is it, baby?”

“I need you.”

He smiled down at you and took you by the chin, tilting your face up towards him. “You already have me.”

“You know what I mean!”

“But I want to hear you say it.”

You groaned stubbornly and twisted your head out of his grip, only to let out a yelp when he closed a hand around your throat.

“Stop being a brat,” Joshua spat as he forced you to look at him again. “I’ll give you one more chance to be a good girl, got it? Good girls use their words to tell me what they want. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you choked out desperately.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

“I’ll be a good girl.”

“So what is it that you need, love?”

You swallowed your pride and opened your mouth to respond. “Your cock, please.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Joshua asked, cupping a hand around his ear as if he couldn’t hear you.

“I want- I need your cock, please.”

“Atta girl,” he praised and eased the grip around your neck. “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head weakly and watched as Joshua pushed his boxers down to his thighs, then onto the floor, letting his cock bounce up against his stomach. He was fully hard already and you wondered how long he’d been like that, wondered how he had so much self-control when you barely had any.

“We can stop whenever you want, okay?” Joshua said, face softening and hand gently cupping your cheek. “Let me know if it’s too much. Just tell me what you need, baby.” You nodded obediently and met him halfway as he leaned down to kiss you. He broke away from the kiss suddenly and held a hand underneath your mouth. “Spit,” he ordered.

You complied and sat up a little to spit into his hand. He worked that same hand over his cock a few times, using your spit to lubricate it before positioning himself over you.

“Is this a good idea?” you blurted right as Joshua was about to push himself into you, suddenly aware that you wouldn’t be able to go back from this as soon as he did.

You had shoved any feelings you’d had for Joshua down for so long and it would be impossible to keep doing after sleeping with him. But you had already come this far.

“Probably not,” Joshua answered with a shrug. “Do you want to stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Great.”

A brief moment of silence lapsed while you both stared into each others’ eyes, not quite sure where to go from there.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Joshua said casually after thirty more seconds of silence.

“Yes, please do.”

You braced yourself for the stretch as Joshua pushed into you at an agonizing pace and sank your teeth into his shoulder to relieve some of the pressure. Joshua groaned at the feeling of you pulsing around his cock, a feeling which was only heightened by you nipping at his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“You’re… so big,” you echoed back.

He allowed you a few moments to adjust before he moved. You were already so worked up that he slid in and out of you easily and it wasn’t long before he was pounding into you at a fast tempo. He pressed hurried kisses to your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of hickies to remember him by.

You cried out each time his cock hit your g-spot, overwhelmed and still sensitive. Joshua kissed you to drown out your moans, clamping a hand over your mouth in his stead whenever he came up for air. His other hand was up against the wall for stability, though it wasn’t helping much.

“Joshua,” you gasped.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you choke me again, please?” you all but begged.

Joshua smirked. “Of course.”

He did as you asked and cursed when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in closer.

“See what happens when you’re a good girl and ask nicely?” he teased, cocking his jaw arrogantly. “You get rewarded.”

You could feel your orgasm building in your abdomen as Joshua continued to thrust into you and wondered if he was close too. You guessed that he was from the way his hips had began to falter.

“Up,” Joshua commanded suddenly.

He slipped out of you and grabbed you by the shoulders, hauling you into a sitting position.

“On your hands and knees,”

“And if I don’t?” you challenged.

“You don’t want to find out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Should I finish myself off, then?” he asked, pumping his cock lazily as if he expected you to call his bluff. “Leave you here needy, not let you cum?”

“No, please!”

You quickly got into position on all fours with your back to Joshua praying that he wouldn’t make good on his threat.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice.

You fell forward on your face when he shoved his cock back into you only for him to tug you upright by your hair. He fucked you like that in doggy for a minute or so before he snaked an arm around your upper body and pulled you flush against his chest. Being seated on his lap allowed Joshua the ability to touch practically anywhere on your body. He took advantage of the new position by grabbing your tits.

He was so fucking deep in you like this you couldn’t stand it. Every tiny movement brought you closer to the edge and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last.

“Shua, I’m close,” you warned through broken gasps.

“Don’t cum yet.”

“Why not,” you whined.

“You’re not allowed to cum until you answer this question for me,” he said breathlessly.

“What is it?”

“When you were touching yourself earlier, who were you thinking about?”

“I-”

“Was it Seungcheol?”

“No.”

Joshua’s fingers found your clit and began rubbing circles around it, making it that much harder not to disobey him.

“Fuck, Joshua…”

“Who was it?”

“It was you! I was thinking about you!”

“Do you always think about me?” he pressed.

“You only said one question,” you accused defensively.

Interrogating you while he had you on the brink of orgasm was not fair.

“Fine, cum.”

You cried his name as you finally came. He held you through it, your orgasm triggering his own as you clenched around him repeatedly. Your name tumbled from his lips too, while he lost himself in the midst of pleasure. You couldn’t see his face as he came, but you could imagine it, like you had hundreds of times before. The way his hair would stick to his forehead, the way he’d bite down on his lip and squeeze his eyes shut as he let go of control…

You couldn’t see him as he came, but you could feel him. You felt his entire body tense behind you, felt the warm spurts of cum fill you up, felt the way he instinctively grabbed at your throat to anchor himself.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity as you both caught your breath. Joshua collapsed on the bed with you in his arms, cock still buried inside of you. He brushed your hair out of your face and turned your head so that he could look into your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded sleepily and gave him a weak smile. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I wasn’t too rough?”

“No, you were perfect.”

He kissed you again without a second thought and you kissed him back. It felt familiar and warm, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Here let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pulling out of you.

You winced at the empty feeling, but laid in bed motionlessly and let Joshua dote on you. He used a warm washcloth in between your thighs and wrapped a new Spider-Man Band-Aid around your hurt finger. He slipped back into his boxers and tossed you another pair of his to wear before fetching you a glass of water from the kitchen and making you drink it all.

Joshua returned to bed finally and snuggled up to you instantly. You nestled yourself into the crook of his arm and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I thought I didn’t have to fuck you to sleep in your bed,” you said quietly once he had gotten comfortable.

“Shut up.” There was still a lot to discuss between the two of you, but nothing that couldn’t wait until morning. For now you were content to fall asleep in his arms and ignore all of the unanswered questions bouncing around in your mind. “For the record, I still expect my fried rice.”

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[violet-knox]

The Family Secret

Chapter 1: Spinner’s End

Pairing: Young!Snape x Reader

Summary: Excited for your summer break, you make plans with Severus to visit him at Spinner’s End. Nervous about your visit, Severus does everything he can to make your stay delightful, but nothing goes as planned when his father comes home early from work. 

Word count: 6951

Warnings: Implied child abuse (not explicit) 

A/N: It’s been such a long journey finishing this story up. Things did not go as planned when I signed up and there were times I didn’t think I’d manage to finish it. But here we are, and I’m so happy I pushed through.

This story has 5 chapters and since I didn’t plan anything for Sev’s birthday, I thought I’d make it up by posting the first (and longest) chapter today. The next chapter will be posted on Wednesday the 13th and after that, I’ll be posting one chapter every Saturday in January, the final chapter posted on the 30th. It was a pleasure to participate in the @snapebang​ and I hope everyone enjoys it!

He could still remember the first time he’d told you about his home on Spinner’s End. You’d only been dating two weeks and he had no obligation to tell you anything about his life, but he just couldn’t help himself. He’d been hoping for so many years to find someone like you, someone he could care for that would return the gesture. Someone he could love, trust and he did. He’d found you and there was no one else in this world he would ever trust more than you. Perhaps that was why he told you where he lived after you said you lived in Cokeworth as well, knowing the reputation Spinner’s End had built for itself. Lily had never cared for his family’s financial status, but her sister had, as did the majority of those he’d meet. He was afraid you’d react the same way, that once again his parents would ruin yet another good thing in his life, but you didn’t. You didn’t even hesitate to smile. But if you’d told him back then what you’d asked of him now, he would have questioned your knowledge on the reputation Spinner’s End carried and reconsidered telling you about his upbringing. 

Filthy, poor, loathsome, shameful, pathetic; those were the words he and many others would have used to describe his home, yet you seemed completely oblivious to those characteristics. You didn’t care about how small he claimed it to be. You brushed away his own distaste for the place and his offer to take you somewhere else. You simply asked again: Can I come over this summer? 

The answer was much simpler than he’d made it out to be in his mind: Yes, but you shouldn’t. Yet he could only imagine the hurt in your eyes if he’d responded that way. He knew you’d understand if he explained, but you’d already tolerate so much of his own burdens. Who was he to ask you to carry anymore? In all honesty, he was surprised you’d stuck around this long after everything you’d seen at school. The way he was treated by others; like a filthy raccoon who wouldn’t stop trespassing on their property. You should have run for the hills the second you got a glimpse of who he was, but you didn’t. You stayed by his side and yet, despite everything you’d been through, he still questioned your loyalty. It was as if the moment you understood where he came from, the moment you’d seen his home, who his father was, you’d abandon him like everyone else before you. 

It seemed however, that no matter what he’d say, no matter how hard he’d try, you’d always find your way back to him to put his heart back together. He loved your loyalty to him, your compassion for him. He loved everything about you and only a fool would shun the insurance you offered him of your expectations for Spinner’s End. 

“Severus, if you don’t want me here, I understand,” you said as you followed his lead down the street of Spinner’s End. Reservation still lingered in his chest and judging by your tone of voice, you were certainly aware of it. He was nervous more than anything. Yes, his father was away for the weekend and his mother never bothered to care for his presence anyways, but he still couldn’t help the dread in the back of his mind. Bringing you home was a risk, one that could end your relationship if you hadn’t been sincere about your views of his family. 

“N-no! I do, it’s just-” He paused and squeezed your hand as he looked away. “My house- where I live… It’s not what you imagine and my parents- they aren’t exactly the best of people.”

You’d seen him distressed before, the sorrow in his eyes when Lily cut ties with him, the anguish he went through when James and Sirius continued their harassments at school after the Whomping Willow incident. But you’d never seen such disappear written on his face before, as if he was preparing to lose something he held dear. You’d never meant to cause such emotions when you’d asked to come over for a few hours, but if you’d known the stress he felt now, you would have buried the thought deep in your mind, never to see the light of day and save him the hurt he felt bubbling inside him now. 

The way he tightened his hold on you made you feel all the more guilty. This was supposed to be a pleasant evening and Severus was acting as though you held a gun to his head. But you knew that once you’d entered his house and shown him you couldn’t care less about his living situation the mood would lighten. 

“You know I don’t care for that. Your home and your parents will never change how I feel about you,” you said, pulling his arm closer to your chest. Your words had the exact effect you’d intended as you felt the tension in his muscles release. His shoulders dropped slightly, but his hand tightened its hold on yours. 

Turning his head, Severus looked into your eyes and felt the assurance you offered seep into his recurring horrendous thoughts of abandonment. He always felt so safe with you, assured of the exclusion of the terrors the world offered when he was around you. As much as he hated to admit it, you were his rock, he couldn’t live without you and that was precisely why he feared your visit to his house. Why would he risk losing someone as important as you? And for what? A glimpse into his sad childhood on Spinner’s End? 

Nothing was worth losing you and if protecting his relationship with you meant you’d never meet his parents or step foot on Spinner’s End then so be it. He could live with hiding his past. He could learn to move on, he wanted nothing more than to move on, but he knew he’d never be able to find anyone as thoughtful or as loving as you.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you offered, watching him hesitate to climb up the first step of stairs leading to the front door. “We can turn around and head to a park or something.”

You couldn’t stand how uncomfortable he looked. You didn’t want to see him like this, your heart aching as his hands shook, stuffing them into his pocket, clumsily searching for his keys. He was like a delicate, expanding bubble, ready to pop at any moment, exploding into a mess of emotions and you couldn’t bear seeing him in such a state.

“No,” he said softly, retrieving his keys from his pocket. “We can stay.”

Stretching out his hand, offering it to you, he took another step towards the door, watching you slide your fingers against his palm, gripping him tightly as you stepped forward as well. As much as he would have liked to take you up on your offer, he knew he couldn’t back out now because he knew exactly why you wanted to come over in the first place. Curiosity was a trait you’d never tried to hide and one that made itself more apparent the closer you got as a couple. You wanted to know everything about him because it made you feel closer. You wanted to trust him, to know him better than anyone else ever had. He could see your hurt when he told you about Lily, how much he’d wanted to share everything with her, how he thought she understood him, so he knew you’d want nothing more than to gain his trust enough to share everything with you.

Slowly, he put the key into its lock and turned it, opening the door to his childhood, his summer prison. Everything he hated about himself was all stored under one roof, all about to be exposed to you. There were no words to describe the hatred he felt for this place, Lily being the only reason he had to look forward to returning every summer but as she broke off their friendship, his willingness to withstand this house sizzled away, leaving him with nothing but animosity. And then he met you. You were his new light, a clean breath of air amongst the smoky darkness surrounding him. You were his new reason for withstanding Cokeworth and Spinner’s End. Withstanding another summer under this roof was only made bearable by the thought of you existing within the same vicinity. 

The smile you wore on your face as you followed him, stepping within the threshold of his less than desirable home eased him a little and he wondered if you’d intended to appear happy simply because you knew how much it soothed him. You were always canny like that, catching onto his likes and desires faster than he was willing to admit, but it didn’t bother him. He was grateful for it and only wished he could return the favour. 

“It’s nice,” you said to him as he closed the door behind you. Any expectations Severus had given you were shot the moment you stepped inside, the walls bare, a singular couch and armchair squeezed into the shoe box sized sitting room. The couch was old, probably as old as the house judging by the chipped drywall and the worn-out floors. It faced the ashy fireplace which seemed to endure the same negligence Severus had said he’d felt over the years. The armchair’s cushion dipped in the middle as if an invisible being was sitting on it, the arms themselves scuffed from the ends. The only decor you could find was a singular picture frame of a couple you could only assume were his parents that looked as though it had been gathering dust for a while. 

“You’re not being truthful,” he replied bluntly as he let go of your hand. He took a look around the room and sighed. No matter how much he tried, there was no way he could have made the place presentable for you, but at least he’d managed to clean the floors of any broken shards of glass or stains left behind by whatever it was his father had decided to leave around the armchair. 

“The way you were describing it, Severus, I would have thought you lived in a dustcart.” You turned to face him instead of the room, placing your hands over his arms to get his attention. His hair was already over his face, his insecurities spilling out of him and you’d barely been here ten seconds. The house was quiet at least and you knew if you just sat down a while, he would get used to the idea of sharing his space with you. 

Severus’ gaze seemed to be fixed on the scenery behind you, so you slowly moved your hands up his arms and onto his shoulder, one reaching up to gently hook under his chin, encouraging him to break free of whatever horrible trance he was under. Your eyes finally met yet he still wouldn’t let go of the fear buried deep in his chest. 

“Sev, I love you,” you spoke softly, entwining your fingers in his hair, taking a step closer to him. Severus leaned into you, your touch a comfort he could find nowhere else. The tension in his shoulders started to ease until he realized he’d forgotten to thoroughly wash his hair today. His hand jerked up to remove yours from the shameful oily mess on his head, kicking himself for forgetting something so trivial. Already this day was going downhill, and he could only imagine the treachery that would follow. 

“Can we sit down?” You asked when you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you away. You could tell he was still so uncomfortable and a part of you had begun to wonder if it was really his home he was ashamed of or if it was you. 

Severus, unaware of your own worries, slowly nodded his head, turning towards the couch, inviting you to sit beside him. His actions were almost robotic; one foot after the other, his legs bending enough to sit in his seat. He wasn’t sure what to do next, or rather, he wasn’t sure if you were disgusted by what you saw and were just too kind to say anything. He wouldn’t blame you if the next thing you did was ask to leave. In fact, he’d sort of expected it to happen at some point, he just had no idea when you’d ask. 

“Severus?” Your voice seemed so distant, like you weren’t actually here and for once, he hoped that was true. Your scent however, the glimpse of your face in the corner of his eyes told him otherwise. “Sev, if you’re worried about me don’t be. I’m fine with your home, I really am.”

Severus looked down to find your hand on his knee, your thumb slowly rubbing circles into his trousers as a way of comforting him. His lips gently twitched into the subtlest of smiles, his hand overlapping yours as he looked at you with softened eyes. He nodded his head in understanding and found himself silently thanking you and everything you were. Your presence, your joy, your mere existence was all a gift he was lucky to have received. 

“I-I can make tea,” he offered, hoping it would ease the tension around you both. You nodded your head and he got up from his spot, asking you to stay where you were, Merlin forbid you see another inch of this disgraceful prison. 

Severus creaked open the door that led to the rest of the house enough for him to slip through, quickly closing it after he stepped inside so you wouldn’t see your vision wouldn’t be tainted with any more of his embarassing life. He hastily made his way to the kitchen where he found his mother sitting near the window reading yesterday’s paper, likely stolen from the neighbour’s bin as she smoked what he guessed was her third cigarette today judging by the time. 

Opening the cupboards, he found the old rustic kettle and filled it up with water before digging for the matches and lighting the flame on the stove. He left the kettle there as he went back to find two clean cups. He’d opened all the cupboards in the kitchen before looking around countertops. He found two mugs, both dirty on the kitchen table, but one was chipped to the extent he was sure you’d noticed, so he cleaned the acceptable one and continued his search. Waving his wand, he watched the ditry mug levitate to the sink where it began cleaning itself. Looking back around the kitchen he found another mug on the countertop of the window, used as an ashtray. 

“Mum, can I use that mug?” He asked her, hoping she was in a well enough mood to simply wave him her approval. He watched with anticipation as she took another puff of her cigarette, acting as if he wasn’t even there. This was rather usual for her, but unfortunately for him, it meant she wasn’t in the mood to be disturbed.  

“Why?” She asked, keeping her eyes on her paper as she blindly tapped the end of her cigarette into her makeshift ashtray.

“I-I have a friend over and I wanted to make tea.” He paused and watched her eyes move from one side of the page to the other. “I’d asked you yesterday if it was alright for her to come over and you said it was.”

Sometimes he wondered if she cared more about her smoke breaks than she did him because it was moments like this where she’d pay more attention to those sticks of tobacco than she would her own son that had him questioning her priorities. The cigarette hung from her lips as she turned the page, staring at him like he’d said something damning. 

“A friend? Didn’t that Evans girl stop speaking with you last year? And why on earth would you want to bring her here of all places?” She suddenly seemed very interested in his evening plans when he’d explained to her multiple times over the last few days he was planning to have you over. But why would he ever expect her to listen when she’d done nothing of the sort the last 17 years. He in fact, could hardly remember a time where she’d managed to hold even half a conversation with him.

“Why do you care?” He snapped back at her. Frustration rose to his mind, his face turning red with anger. She had no right to question his personal life. She had no right to speak to him like he wasn’t worthy of speaking to other human beings. 

His expression hardened when he locked eyes with her, watching her take another drag of her cigarette as her lips stretched into an ugly frown. Tossing her newspaper in the direction of the bin, each page flying around, landing all over the floor, she put out her cigarette in the mug before pushing it with her index finger so it fell off the windowsill. 

“Clean that up,” she commanded lazily, easing off from where she sat and dragged her feet along the floor to the door. “And I suggest you see your friend out before your father gets home.”

He didn’t take his eyes off her until she was completely out of sight, heading up the stairs, the house whining in agony with every step she took. Storming to the door, he closed it roughly, immediately regretting it when he remembered you were in the sitting room waiting for him. It was then he’d realized the kettle had been whistling, steaming angrily before he removed it from the stove and turned it off. He looked to his side where the broken pieces of the mug mixed with the ashes of his mother's cigarette. With a sigh, he took out his wand and wove it over the area, trying to focus on the task at hand, putting aside his feelings towards his parents. 

He’d been so used to locking himself in his room or storming out of the house, returning when it was pitch black after interactions like that, but he couldn’t do that this time and it threw him off. He had to get back to you, get back to the safety of your bubble. At least with you, he could stand to be in this house, he could bear the backlash of his mother and the miserable life he led here. 

The mug put itself back together and he picked it up to examine it. He’d gotten rather good with this spell after he’d begun taking every broken dish, jar or whatever else his parents felt like breaking that day back to Hogwarts and fixing it the second he was allowed to do magic again. Turning seventeen was one of the best gifts he’d ever been given. No more restrictions, no more rules. He was able to do magic freely now and it had saved him more than once this summer, apparting away if they ever got too loud, cleaning his room faster than he’d ever previously managed. It kept him connected to his real home, even if he was miles away. 

Placing the mug in the sink, he washed and dried it, stopping the spell he’d previously cast and set aside the dishes for now. He walked over instead to the mess his mother had made and wove his wand over it to vanish the ash and newspaper. Finally, he made earl grey tea and even managed to find some biscuits to go along with it. His smile slowly began to return as he made his way back to you, opening the door with one hand as he carried the tray of treats in the other. Placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch, he took his seat next to you.

“Sorry, we don’t have any cream but there’s sugar if you like,” he said, gesturing to the small jar next to the cups. Your lips twitched into a smile as you watched him pick up the jar and unscrew its lid. He put two teaspoons of sugar into his tea before looking over his shoulder to see if you wanted any. 

“One is fine. Thank you Sev,” you motioned to him. He gave both cups a quick swirl before picking them up and handing yours to you. He sat back on the couch and looked down at the liquid swirling in circles, the awkwardness settling back into place before you spoke, thoughts of the consequences he feared to face for bringing you here returning to him.

“Is everything alright Sev? I heard something breaking while you were in there,” you said, nodding your head towards the door he’d just emerged from. You didn’t want to push or make assumptions, but Severus had told you his father was at work, which meant the footsteps you heard heading up the stairs not long before he returned to you were his mother’s. He’d barely ever spoken to you about her, but you knew he wasn’t too fond of either of his parents. You were never one to pry on someone else's personal life, but with Severus it was different. You cared so deeply for him, you wanted to know everything, the good and the bad. But common dignity stopped you from asking him before about his family, hoping if you were patient, he would eventually trust you enough to share everything without you having to ask. 

“It was nothing, I just dropped one of the mugs, but I managed to put it back together,” he lied, looking away to take a sip of his tea. He kept his eyes on his cup as he lowered it, his hair defensively falling into position over his face. You noticed his gaze dropping and knew there was more to what he was telling you. Your shoulders fell in disappointment as you realized today was not the day he’d open up to you. But you had to look on the bright side, he trusted you enough to bring you to his home and you’ve been here a full ten minutes without him trying to push you out.

“So, will I get a tour later?” You smirked as you took a sip of your own tea. “Will I get to see your room?”

“Why do you want to see my room?” He asked, confused at your odd request. Your smirk didn’t help matters either. He was now unsure of how serious your question was. 

Sliding closer to him, you bit your bottom lip, unable to suppress your growing smile. It was absolutely adorable when he wouldn’t understand some of your hints. The way his brows would furrow, his eyes shifting like a lost puppy unable to comprehend where he was. “Well, wouldn’t you want to see my room if you came over?”

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle when you saw his eyes light up with understanding, a sly smirk of his own appearing on his lips, his cheeks tinting a light shade of pink. “I suppose. But my room isn’t really anything worth seeing. It’s small and cramped. I keep everything worth keeping in my trunk. Honestly, the dorms back at Hogwarts are more appealing.” 

“I don’t care how it looks,” you said, placing a hand on his knee in comfort. What you would give to see him just a little more proud of himself, just a bit more confident. Sometimes you wondered if all that affinity shared between you meant anything to him or if he even realized how much you’d been there for him, how you’d always be there for him. But in the end, your crazy thoughts of his negligence towards you was always just that; absolutely nonsense. “I only care that it’s yours.”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed. It was odd speaking to you about something he’d always been so insecure about, yet the feeling of worry over whether or not you would leave him after what you saw was beginning to dwindle away. Even with his mum unable to spare him a shred of decency, the evening had felt as though it was going fairly well thus far. At least you seemed to be enjoying the biscuits enough to eat a second even though they turned out to be stale. Still, you managed to find a way to turn the situation around, dipping them into your tea. You’d even finished your tea before him despite his vitality to speak as little as possible. He would much rather listen to you talk about how your summer had gone so far and all the plans you had for your last year at Hogwarts than speak of his home and life on Spinner’s End.

Life could never cut him a break and just when he thought he was finally grasping at happiness, Fate had to intervene, ruining any spark of joy ignited within him. Fate was cruel to him today just as she was cruel to him when he’d finally found a home in Hogwarts, introducing him to Potter while taking Lily away from him. Today, Fate had decided to shake up his plans with you and test him instead. The sound of the front door opening dropped his heart down to his stomach. He knew it was over the second his father took a step into the house, to be greeted by his son sitting with a stranger he’d been told nothing about. 

“What is this?” His tone showed resistance as he stared at you and Severus sitting on the couch. He was holding back like he always did when they were out in public. Your presence was taming him, but Severus knew it wouldn’t last long.

“H-hello,” you hesitantly tried to introduce yourself, feeling the tension in the air. You assumed the man who’d stepped inside the house was his father, but judging by the look on the man’s face, he had no idea who you were. Did Severus not tell either of his parents about your visit? Thoughts of disappointment and guilt filled your mind as you stood up, stretching your hand out to him. “I-umm, I’m (Y/N).”

The man squinted at your hand, staring at you in silence. You felt wary of the situation you’d suddenly found yourself in. Your introduction clearly doing you no favours. Awkwardly, you lowered your hand to your side along with your gaze in embarrassment as you sank back down on the couch beside Severus. 

“We were just drinking tea,” Severus finally spoke, trying to explain with as few words as possible why there was a stranger in the house. Looking at him, you questioned why his voice had suddenly lost all its power. It sounded as though he was speaking to a wall, you’d never heard his voice so monotone before and it frightened you. Perhaps he was right, and you shouldn’t have come over. 

Severus watched his father squint at the two empty mugs on the coffee table, evidence that you’d both finished your tea a while ago. Severus could already tell lies was all his father would see. The way his father’s black eyes pierced his, he knew nothing he said now would forgive inviting you over. 

“I see.” Severus felt a slight shiver run up his body from his father's simple words, but he still maintained eye contact with him all the same, hoping he could at least try and brace himself for what came next. He watched the man take a few steps around the couch, speaking one final word as he opened the door to the rest of the house. “Severus.”

His voice commanded obedience from Severus and immediately he knew he was being asked to follow him to the kitchen. Shrugging his shoulders, he let out a small sigh. His hair fell over his face as he closed his eyes, trying not to think about what was to come next. Reluctantly, he stood from his place and motioned to begin following his father through the door when he felt a hand tightly grasp at his, holding him back. 

“Sev, is everything okay?” you whisper to him, your brows furrowed, and your voice muffled with worry. Severus sat back down on the edge of the couch next to you, his gaze still lowered in shame of the interaction you’d just had with his father. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to come home until the evening. 

“Severus!” His mother’s voice echoed through the room, a sign he was in deep trouble. His punishment was always worsened whenever both his parents were there to discipline him and he wasn’t ready to face those consequences tonight. Not tonight of all nights. He couldn’t handle it knowing you'd be in the next room. 

“It’s fine, just- umm, stay here,” he told you quickly before standing up, pulling away from you and marching straight into the kitchen like a soldier ready for battle. You sat there frozen for a moment, the silence around you deafening. Severus looked so upset when he’d left you, wearing the same look he’d have after an interaction with James and his friends. This summer was supposed to be about building your relationship with him, growing closer to each other and enjoying your time together. You never thought you’d see that look on his face in his own home with your company.

“SHUT UP EILEEN! THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU!” The voice of his father roared throughout the house. Your heart stopped at the sudden burst in rage coming from the other side of the door. Your chest rose with panic and fell with worry. Against better judgment, you stood up and slowly walked over towards the commotion, fear of those doors bursting open as you got closer. Your palms pressed against the chipping paint as you listened in on the rest of their conversation.

“This is about your ungrateful son!” The man continued pouring his anger out on those in the other room. “How dare you bring some stranger into my house!”

Your heart ached for Severus. You weren’t a stranger to him and-

“I live here too!” You and Severus were a lot alike in more ways than one, but it seemed in this situation, your thoughts had aligned more than they ever had before. Unfortunately, it seemed his father didn’t care to allow Severus any sense of belonging.

“ON MY DIME!” The man screamed.

Your heart sank as the yelling continued, the more they spoke, the more you were certain Severus was living in a toxic environment, one you’d be forced to leave soon, forced to abandon the one person in this house that seemed to have a kind soul. You had to do something, you couldn’t just stand here. Intervening would be a horrible idea, you or Severus could wind up injured, or worse. No, you couldn’t let yourself be separated from Severus, you couldn’t leave him during a time like this. 

Every bone in your body resisted as you went to cautiously open the door enough to look through to the other side. You saw the light on in another room where all the yelling was emerging from, and quickly took this chance to slip through the door, closing it behind you and making your way up the stairs. You paused halfway up, crouching down in fear of being caught, hoping Severus could free himself of the entrapment his parents had suddenly put him in. 

“You should have quit that ruddy school a long time ago, gotten yourself a job and contributed to this household like I had when I was half your age!”

It seemed the man had no sense of pride, happy to have his son throw away his potential all for his own benefit. Helping him pay the bills instead of watching Severus build a future for himself was apparently the right priorities to him. Severus was a brilliant wizard, and you knew his skills would provide him with many opportunities in the future. You’d always told him that, even before you started dating, you’d never missed out on a chance to let him know how much he inspired you, how you had him to thank for so much of your own success at Hogwarts. It didn’t matter what his father thought so long as Severus knew he wasn’t wrong to focus on his studies, to strive for a better life than his parents, you were happy. 

You hurried up the rest of the stairs, optimistic they would finish their episode of abuse soon and began to look around on the second floor. You found two bedrooms and a bathroom. The first bedroom you would have assumed was the master bedroom as it contained a queen-sized bed, but the bundled up sheets and pillow in the corner had you second guess your assumption. It appeared as though someone had been sleeping on the floor, but when you entered the second bedroom, you knew that person couldn’t have been Severus. This second bedroom had to be his room. His trunk was in here, shoved into the closet, an old desk with one of its legs repaired with what appeared to be a chopped stick of a broom sat opposite of the twin sized bed that filled up most of the room. 

Sitting on his bed, you felt the springs in the mattress snap and you almost jumped up in surprise, but you kept yourself still, worried that any noise you made would bring you unwanted attention from downstairs. Poor Severus was already being scolded for your presence in this house, you didn’t want him blamed for the risky choice you made of sneaking into his room. Down below, you heard the sound of a door shoved open followed by footsteps before the shouting resumed.  

“She’s not there Tobias,” spoke his mother. Just as you’d suspected, they’d gone looking to kick you out of the house. What followed was a sentence you never thought you’d hear, something you felt so offended by, you would have given up your position just to prove them wrong. 

“Another friend abandoning you,” his father scoffed, a bit of spite in his tone as he talked down to Severus. “I could only be so lucky as to have the same privilege.”

Severus didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe you’d abandoned him, but he could however believe his parents scaring you away. He wondered how his summer would go now that you knew everything about his life. He tried to picture you receiving his countless letters begging to see you and throwing them in the trash without so much as glimpsing at his words. He tried to imagine how his final year would go without you by his side, celebrating his freedom alone, watching from afar as you went on to find someone else, all because of the horrible way his parents had treated you. 

You’d told him so many times, tried to reassure him so many times you weren’t going anywhere, but deep down he knew they were just words. They meant nothing and in the moment, you couldn’t handle the horrific truth. He didn’t want to believe it, but he didn’t blame you. He didn’t hold it against you for leaving. That luxury was only to be held by his parents. The luxury they’d held over him since the day he was born. Severus bowed his head in shame. He was embarrassed for opening up to you like that. For trusting you and thinking you’d be different. His shame slowly turned his disappointment into rage, tears pricking his eyes, daring to expose his emotions to his parents when he was already so vulnerable. 

Let them punish me. Let them relish in my embarrassment. I deserve it.

“I’m taking you to the mill tomorrow,” his father informed him. “You’re getting a job to pay back all the money I put into you the last 17 years.”

His life was over. He knew it and so did his parents. He was doomed to work for his father for the rest of his life, always in his debate. He wasn't to graduate Hogwarts, he wasn’t to send you any letters, he wasn’t to dream of the great wizard you said he could be. He said nothing in response, the pain he felt in his chest, his face, his ribs, his stomach, his heart all too great to allow him the energy to speak a single word. 

He watched his mother walk back to the kitchen and lift up the chair his father had thrown at him, tucking it into the small kitchen table. One of its legs was broken and he knew if anyone sat on it, it would break. But so long as it appeared put together, so long as it looked fine, he knew they wouldn’t care. His father went and sat down on the chair no one but him was to use and waited for his mother to serve dinner. 

Severus once again found himself completely invisible to them. They’d let out their emotions, lashed out at him and made sure he knew his place, then went back to their lives, pretending like he didn’t exist. He’d only wished they’d done that when you were here. If they didn't acknowledge your presence like they did his own right now, perhaps you’d still be together. Perhaps he wouldn't have to live the rest of his life alone, but such a mercy was too much to ask of course. He was made to be punished, he was born to suffer and that was to be his fate until the day he died. 

Slowly, he walked out of the kitchen, not to make a sound lest he be noticed again. He held his breath with each step he took, exhaling when he reached the second floor. He turned to make his way to his room, twisting the knob, ready to crawl into bed and drown in his tears, but the second he opened the door, about to throw himself onto his mattress, he was met instead with a sight he’d never dreamt of seeing. You were there, waiting for him, waiting to comfort him, your arms warm as you wrapped them around him. His lips trembled as he lost himself in you. He was falling in love with you all over again, the rush of emotions all too great to conceal. 

He’d barely managed to close the door, trapping you both in the cold darkness of his prison before everything he’d kept buried inside for 17 years spilled out silently. He trembled as he let his body lean on yours. His muscles giving out, too tired to continue standing, his mind too beat to stay strong. He couldn’t do it anymore. He was too exhausted.

“Severus,” you whispered into his ear, testing the waters, knowing you couldn’t let yourself be heard. His tears were silent, and you knew you had to oblige to the same rule, but you couldn’t hold back. You couldn’t let him think what you knew his mind would have concluded not moments ago. “I will never leave you.”

His grip tightened when you spoke, reminding him of why he’d opened up to you in the first place, why he’d trusted you. He hugged you with as much strength as he could muster, letting his tears leak from his eyes, soaking your shirt as you stood there frozen in time. He’d lost himself in his mind before feeling your hands move down to his waist, pushing him away just enough to guide him into his bed. The covers were pulled over his body as he nuzzled into yours, feeling its warm embrace comfort him as you held him once more. His tears began to dry as the safety of your presence soothed him, telling him it would be alright. He had nothing to fear, nothing to worry about because he had you and you weren’t going anywhere. 

Adjusting your position, you slid down the bed enough to lay on your side, facing him. His eyes were half open, his breath heavy as you rose your hand, gently cupping his jaw, your thumb slowly swiping his cheek. He relaxed under your touch, your eyes, your smile assuring him he was safe. The darkness welcomed him as he closed his eyes, focussing on your touch, the only sound in the room, his heavy breaths. 

“Sev?” You broke the silence, whispering his name. “I think you should come stay with me awhile.”

You’d been reluctant to offer an escape from this house, but the way he looked, the exhaustion on his face broke your heart. It angered you and you couldn’t let him stay here. You couldn’t let him endure one more second of the abuse in this house. 

His eyes opened and met yours, your chest aching as the light in his eyes faded away. He slowly nodded his head in agreement, fear of what his parents might do to him if he was caught trying to run away bubbling in his mind. He was afraid, yes, but staying here and living the miserable life they’d planned out for him was a much worse fate than anything else he imagined they would do if they caught him. He’d been wanting an out for so long, and here you were offering him just that. 

~

Next Chapter

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@sleepysnapesnake​ @wanderingtrails @darkthought15​ @bush-viper-cutie​ @fluffymadamina​ @dracos-mudblood​ @mitchiesdungeon​ @severuslovebot​ @ravenhopeflyte54​

[star-killer-md]

Hello!! May I please request “I’ll keep calling for the rest of the night if i have to, until you answer me.” with our boi Kylo? Could it be sweet with smut? Thank you so much!!! DALDOM is such a joy to read, like thank you for quenching my thirst in this drought of a time

Thank you so much for all your support babe!! Soooo, remember when I said this would be just drabbles. Well I went and wrote like what could potentially be considered a one shot and it’s probably not at all what you were looking for but it left my brain and its here now. 

This is loosely based on the Mobster!Kylo x Lawyer!reader AU I’ve been fantasizing about writing for awhile, so you can just read it as modern Kylo to simplify things. 

Prompt: “I’ll keep calling for the rest of the night if I have to, until you answer me.” 

Warnings: nsfw, angst which y’all just need to expect by now, breaking and entering, feelings, sorta soft Kylo I think, possessive vibes

Word Count: 2k

Message number 27:

Kylo’s voice crackled out of the answering machine sounding warped as the signal cut in and out. 

“You’re not getting away that easily,” he rasped. “I’ll keep calling for the rest of the night if I have to, until you answer me.”

Your inbox was well and full by now. He’d made good on his promise though. Your phone had vibrated itself off the counter at one point with the amount of incoming calls. An hour or so ago, you’d just turned it off, hiding away under a blanket in the living room and trying to control your breathing. 

You knew it had been a mistake to get involved with him professionally. His business was not exactly of the ethical sort and you couldn’t have any stains on your reputation. But he’d paid handsomely, and you did enjoy the extra funding to spruce up your rundown apartment. 

But it had been a grave error to ever be romantically involved with Kylo Ren. If you could call it that. There was nothing truly romantic per to say about it, possessive was a more appropriate word for him. Ren kept a collection of spoils and you simply couldn’t bare to be just another trophy anymore. 

Although it seemed your greatest blunder was in trying to break things off amicably. You should have just skipped town. Should have broken your lease, took the hit to your credit and changed your name. Should have, would have, etc...

But you didn’t.

And now you were facing the consequences. 

The consequences which were currently trying to break down your front door. 

Footsteps, loud and heavy, pounded up the narrow hall and what was almost certainly a foot connected and splintered the wood of your lock on the first impact.

You jumped clear off the couch, landing in a heap on the floor and crawling away from the door as it swung on its hinges. The knob left a hole in the drywall as it burst open and standing in the remains was the last and first person you wanted to see.

There was a reason you’d only left a message with his assistant and slipped quietly home. There was a reason you’d taken the week off so you wouldn’t accidentally run into him looking for you at your office. 

Because, no matter how much you detested what he did, you couldn’t deny how easily he’d drawn you in. Not just with money but with his air. The cloud of mystery and intrigue, risk and reward that clung to him was intoxicating. And you knew if you had to look him in the eye, he’d pull you right back to him. Have you laid out on his expensive mahogany desk, pussy dripping and cock pounding into you. 

You could hear it now:

“Your fucking cunt better not take the finish off,” he’d growl into your ear, fingers down your throat to muffle any noise. “Gonna lick it clean when I’m done aren’t you?”

He was staring at you now with that same dangerous look which had enticed you in the first place. You shuddered from your place cowering in the corner.

Kylo’s massive hand wrapped around the door and slammed it back into the ruined frame before crossing the room and backing you further into the corner where you sat. 

“What the hell are you—?!” 

You were cut off when he yanked your upper arm harshly dragging you to your feet and caging you to the wall with his chest. 

“Why the fuck didn’t you pick up?” he hissed, lips working over themselves when his jaw twitched. 

“I left a message,” you stated calmly, eyes focused intently on the ground.

“No that’s bullshit and you know it,” he pounded his fist into the wall by your head. 

“I meant it,” you tried to keep your voice level but your hands were shaking at your sides and he was too close and too loud. “I can’t do this anymore.”

His hand found your jaw, forcing it up towards his face, “Look at me and say that again.”

It was a challenge. A dare. Calling your bluff. 

You took a breath. 

His eyes were so pretty though when you finally met them, all the nerve drained out of you. Kylo looked so...enraged, enraptured, betrayed. And you just couldn’t. But you had to.

The words were soft when they slipped past your lips, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” he demanded.

His eyes were flicking all over your face, from your mouth to your eyes and back again. 

You didn’t know how to explain that he scared you. Not him entirely, but what you felt for him, what he did to you was terrifying. It was an addiction you couldn’t shake and you needed to go cold turkey or you’d be stuck in this back and forth forever. 

“What?!” his voice cracked as the shout left him. “What am I not paying you enough? What more do you want?” 

“I don’t want anything—“

“No, no, no,” he cut you off again, hands wrestling against you until he gripped the outside of your thighs and hoisted them around his waist. Your skirt rode up your back and left you nearly exposed to the chill of the apartment. 

“Kylo, please,” you struggled in his grasp. 

Your hands were so small on his chest, barely contained by the blue dress shirt he wore. He was hard in his pants, you could feel the length of him pressing into your core. Your name left his lips right before they crashed into yours. 

You tried to push back, to seal your mouth shut and turn your head but his kisses were your weakness. Few and far between and gut wrenching every time and he knew it. Knew what he did to you. And you couldn’t help but yield to his onslaught, letting him lick into your mouth and trace your teeth. 

He was like a fine wine, or what you imagined people meant when they said that. It all tasted the same to you, but Kylo was more delicious than any of it. And you drank him down despite the little voice in your head telling you to bite his tongue and get as far away from him as possible. Somewhere he couldn’t track you down. 

But really, you knew that was futile, because Kylo Ren could find you anywhere. Once he sunk his teeth in, there would be no getting away without blood on your hands. So you kissed him back and didn’t protest when his lips wandered down your neck, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. 

“You can’t,” he mumbled into your skin. 

Kylo’s hands shifted, fumbling in between your bodies until his fingers found the soaked fabric of your underwear. He ran his thumb along your slit, groaning at how your pussy dripped for him. 

“Can’t what?” you gasped, as he circled your clit through the cotton. 

He tore his hand away and fumbled with his belt buckle, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. You felt him push your panties to the side and rub the hot head of his length against your lips. He was so warm, so big, so right, so exactly what you always wanted. 

His face was pressed firmly into the crook of your neck, and there was a distinct wetness there and his chest shook when he breathed in the scent of your laundry detergent and perfume. 

“You can’t leave me too.” 

The words were nearly lost in the fabric of your shirt, muffled and strange in his mouth and whatever inkling of resolve you’d had earlier that day shattered like glass in the path of a bullet. You’d never heard him sound like that before. He didn’t say things like that, didn’t tell you things like that. Things that mattered. Things that hurt. 

Kylo rutted his hips against you, coating his cock in your essence and making you squirm as he pressed against your clit with every stroke. 

“Say it,” he sounded so far away, “say you don’t want me.” 

You knew you should. You should tell him to go or call the cops—he had broken in after all—saddle him with legal fees, make some other lawyer get him out of his messes. But there were a lot of things you should be doing, like drinking more water or getting eight hours of sleep or covering your face in pureed cucumber or any number of other things on all those stupid self care lists that normal people absolutely couldn’t have the time for. 

So you said nothing, just shook your head and rolled your hips to meet him, tugging on his hair until he pulled back to face you. His eyes were rimmed red, dark circles puffy underneath and you thought it might be nice to slather yourself in cucumber smoothie if he was there with you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’ll stay.” 

And you choked on the next words out of your mouth as Kylo dives into you, thrusting straight in to the hilt. You feel the sweet sting of him stretching you open, filling you to the brim and you know you’ll never feel this with anyone else. No matter how shady and unethical and terrifying he is, Kylo is not the kind of man you find twice. 

He isn’t taking his time, the way he’s fucking you into the wall—bucking his hips into you at a frantic pace and making you whine—it isn’t for pleasure. No, you can tell by the way he’s keeping you close, not trying to change his angle to get deeper, he wants to be as near to you as possible. 

You realize distantly, as he’s rubbing quick circles around your clit with the pad of his thumb, that this is the first time he’s ever been to your place. You're not entirely surprised he knew where you lived despite that. Maybe you’d invite him to stay the night, maybe he'd actually be there when you woke up. 

But that was probably just a pipe dream. 

It didn’t really matter, not when he was bringing you so close, not when he was still kissing you and biting at your lips like a man starved. His pace began to stutter, rhythm faltering as he neared his climax. 

“Kylo—oh fuck,” you moaned low and long as he bounced you on his dick. 

“Cum for me,” he rasped out. 

And you would.

And you did. 

Because you always did what he asked, no matter how dirty it made you feel. 

So you came screaming his name so loud the neighbors had to have heard it, and he tumbled right over the precipice at the clenching of your cunt around him. You felt him deeply, painting thick ropes of hot release along your walls until it dripped out around his cock. He didn’t move for a while, just dropped his head back down to your shoulder and waited for your breathing to even out. 

After a few moments, he unhooked your legs from his waist, letting his softening length slip from you as your feet landed back on solid ground. You looked up at him, hands resting on his forearms and took him in—dark waves frizzy around his head with sweat and shirt wrinkled from where your nails had gripped the fabric. He tucked himself away, fastening his belt and you watched how his fingers moved nimbly on the buckle. 

“So,” you mused. 

There was still some hint of more in his gaze, something that hadn’t quite been blocked out. And he cleared his throat, humming in response.  

“Does that offer for a higher salary still stand or?”

All the tension melted from his face as it fell back to the familiar deadpan, blank stare you’d become so accustomed to over the last few months. Kylo shook his head at you, eye twitching almost imperceptibly. You couldn’t help but smile, even as his frown deepened. 

Who were kidding? This was the best gig you were ever going to get, and Kylo was a ride you weren’t willing to give up quite so soon. You were sure now you couldn’t escape him even if you tried. 

‘Never get involved with the Mob,’ that was a thing people said right?

People also told you to ‘go to law school,’ and look where that had gotten you: involved with the Mob. 

Oh well, at least you’d never be bored.

[willowandfog]

Hey guys! I asked for people to send me some prompts my way and as promised I took the first two and wrote an Inu/Kag one shot. 

The two winning prompts were:

“They're such an idiot. My idiot but still.” 

& “Nothing else matters except for you."

Thank you to @ruddcatha and @smmahamazing for the prompts!

So this came from an idea I have for a fic. This ‘one shot’ will eventually be developed into a full fic. This one shot is from further into the story. The feelings, relationships and such are established by this point. (Warnings:) There is also some violence and brief references to torture.

Read below the cut:

Inuyasha pushed through the doors to the lab, carefully taking in the small group standing huddled together, talking in hushed whispers. Shippo was the first to notice him approaching, shushing the others before pointing over their shoulders towards him. The other two turned in unison as Inuyasha came to a stop in front of the group, hands on hips.

“Tell me you guys have managed to connect the bomb to Sandusky Shipping?” He asked in his rough, impatient tone. 

Miroku, Sango, and Shippo stood gaping at him. “Well uhh actua-”

Miroku elbowed Shippo in the side. “Kagome still wasn’t exactly sure that the bomb is connected to them, she thinks that the bomb might have been moved somehow from its original place to make it seem like it was the shipping company.”

“Ooook. Why does she think that? Is she still testing things?” He held up a hand to stop them from speaking as they all opened their mouths to speak at once. “Nevermind. I’ll ask her, where is she?”

Shippo and Miroku shared a wide eyed look before taking a step away from him, trying to gain some distance, leaving only Sango standing directly in front of him. 

Sango glared back at them before turning back. “Inuyasha, that’s what we were talking about when you came in. We found some unusual trace elements in the samples brought back for us, and… well Kagome wasn’t sure if they originated in the bomb or are just from the terrain when the explosion happened. She said she needed a ground sample from the site, outside of the explosion area.”

“Ok.” Inuyasha sighed, glancing at his watch. “When do you think she’ll be back? Kouga and I really need to move forward with this.”

“Here’s the thing.” Sango started nervously. “She went last night.” Inuyasha looked back to her, frowning. “The records show that she never came back to the lab and she wasn’t at her place this morning when I went to pick her up. We all figured she maybe just decided to go home and grab the samples this morning but… She should’ve been here three hours ago and she’s not picking up her cell.”

Pulling out his own phone, Inuyasha tapped Kagome’s name on his screen. The call connected directly to her voicemail. “Kagome.” He spoke in a low dangerous tone. “Call me. Now.” He growled before ending the connection. Inuyasha stood there, jaw tightly clenched, seething. He turned to leave, stopping at the doorway. He let out an aggravated shout a moment before he punched the wall beside the door, his fist leaving a hole in the drywall. “Whichever of you is capable of collecting a sample, meet me by my office in ten minutes.” He exited through the lab doors, hands tightly balled into fists.

Sango turned back to the other two to find them with their hands raised in position for Rock, Paper, Scissors. “Nope.” She said, before striding away. 

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

“I am never letting you drive again. What the fuck, Inuyasha? You’re going to kill us.” Kouga growled, grabbing the roof handle as Inuyasha swerved around another car ‘going too slow’.

Inuyasha grumbled something under his breath, turning down the road leading to the warehouse district. 

“He��s right, I’d rather not die before I can legally drink.” Shippo mumbled from the back seat. 

Inuyasha pulled up next to where Kagome’s sapphire blue Hyundai Elantra was parked next to the active crime scene tape. He had barely put the SUV in park before he jumped out. He threw open Kagome’s driver’s side door, picking up her phone that lay on the seat. 

“Her phone’s dead.” He said turning to Kouga as he pocketed the object.

Shippo pointed at the east end of the warehouse. “She would have wanted to collect a sample from as close to the edge of the blast site as possible.”

“Kagome!” Inuyasha shouted as they ducked under the tape, walking towards the spot Shippo indicated. “Kagome!” He heaved a sigh. 

“Guys…” Shippo said quietly, pointing to a spot near the tall grass. 

Kagome’s large black collection box lay turned over, contents scattered. Inuyasha dropped his head into one of his hands, shaking it. Kouga carefully stepped through the tall trampled grass, scanning the ground. He crouched down, inspecting something. 

“Inuyasha. Come look at this.”

Inuyasha knelt down beside him. When he saw Kagome’s issued firearm his stomach dropped. 

“Look here.” Kouga pointed to the butt of the grip. “Is that blood?” 

Inuyasha nodded. “Looks like it.”

“Why would she come out here alone? Especially when it was getting dark.”

Inuyasha growled slightly. “Cause she’s an idiot.” He rubbed his hand over his face in exasperation. “My idiot, but still.” He grumbled before standing, pulling his phone from his pocket and calling it in.  

Why is this happening after we finally agreed to give things between us a shot? Dammit, Kagome, you better be ok. 

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

“Inuyasha!” Sango came sprinting into his office, huffing for breath. She handed him a file. “Kaede got those results on the blood from Kagome’s gun.”

Inuyasha cracked open the file, studying the contents for a long moment.

“It wasn’t her blood. She fought back, she’s still alive, Inuyasha.” Sango spoke quietly reaching across his desk and resting a hand over one of his. 

“We don’t know that for sure. But she damn well better be.”  He snapped the file closed, covering his eyes with his hands. “Why didn’t she just ask me to go with her?”

“Inuyasha.” Sango said gently. “As much as  Kagome likes working with you. She isn’t likely to want to interrupt when you’re arguing with your ex in your office.”

Inuyasha sighed. “I gotta make a call about these results. Hopefully we’ll be able to find out where she is.”

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

“Alright everyone, the blood we found on Dr. Higurashi’s firearm was from Johnny Marrow. Been in prison a few times, but mostly his cases almost never make it to trial. Some crimes include criminal possession of a controlled substance, evidence tampering, but most importantly several cases of assault, and he was suspected of several murders but we never had enough evidence to convict. We had an informant report Marrow conducting suspicious activity near the port. Now, if he doesn’t have the doctor, he should know where she is. Marrow is to be taken alive.” Inuyasha instructed the three HRT agents in the van as he strapped on his vest. 

“That’s one of Darren Montana’s men right? Scummy, clean up, loose ends man?” Kouga questioned. 

“Yeah.” Inuyasha said quietly as he sat down next to him, checking over his MP5SD6. 

“Don’t worry man. She’ll be in there.” Kouga said, clasping him on the shoulder as the van jerked to a stop and the back doors swung open. “Let me take point. If we find her, you just focus on getting her out.”

Inuyasha nodded, following him out of the van. As the five agents gathered together to finish coordinating, the driver ran over to them.

“Thermal scanners indicate there are a dozen people inside. There’s a cluster of five on the west end. Three on the second level. One near both doors, and another doing patrols. Then the last one is isolated near the five on the west side.” He reported. 

“Thanks, Luke.” Kouga said, turning back to the group. 

“Should’ve brought more men.” Inuyasha groaned to himself. 

“Alright guys.” Kouga started.

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

Kagome jerked awake at the sound of gunfire. She yanked on her restraints, tears pouring down her face as the blistered wounds circling her wrists began bleeding, and her dislocated shoulder screamed at her. She failed to shake the matted, blood-caked hair from her face as she watched the door intently. Her vision swam, head throbbing, as the continued sound of gunfire seemed to echo in her ears. The dirty cloth rag pulled tightly at the corners of her mouth; her mouth and throat dry and raw.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she sat, tense, tied to the chair before the door swung open. She blinked squinted eyes at the bright light before she was able to make out a tall figure standing in the doorway, swinging a gun from side to side, scanning the room. When the figure lowered their weapon and kneeled beside her chair, she was finally able to recognize Inuyasha.

Tears of relief rather than pain began to flow as he gently pulled the gag from her mouth. He hesitated for a moment as his stern set face took her in. The bruises on her face already had different shades of blue and purple, and the dried blood down one side of her face indicated a head wound. His eyes turned soft before he moved behind the chair. As he cut the ropes he tried not to take in her blood soaked hands. She slumped forward, almost falling as the ropes fell free.

“Come on, Kagome.” He whispered to her, moving to scoop her up. 

She let out a high pitched whimper as her limp arm was jostled, dangling uselessly at her side. Wrapping her good arm around his neck, she buried her face in his neck. 

“Inuyasha.” She sobbed.

As he carried her from the room she noticed another agent had been guarding the door. Inuyasha followed close behind him, eyes scanning as they went. She closed her eyes firmly against the sunlight when they exited the building; hearing more shots coming from the second floor. Inuyasha carried her to the back of the van they arrived in, gently setting her down on a seat inside.

“Ambulance is on it’s way.” The other agent, Kagome thought his name was Evan, said to Inuyasha before turning and speaking into his radio.

Inuyasha knelt in front of her again, taking her face tenderly in his hands. “Are you ok?” He questioned softly.

“Yes.” She whispered but shook her head.

“Your shoulder.” He moved to take her arm as if he was going to pop it back into place but she pulled away from him.

“No.” Her voice was hoarse. “It’s really swollen, just leave it. She leaned her head back, closing her eyes again. “How did you find me?”

“Your gun.” He said simply, and she nodded.

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

Inuyasha waited impatiently outside of Kagome’s hospital room. Almost an hour had passed before Totosai finally emerged, closing the door behind himself. He frowned, shaking his head as he approached Inuyasha.

“That took a while.”

“Yes well, when an agent is kidnapped and tortured, there’s a lot more questions to ask. She’ll have to fill out an official report when she’s out of here but it’ll do for now.” Totosai raised a brow at him. “You sent Kouga without you?”

“I’d rather be here. How bad was it?” Inuyasha questioned.

Totosai sighed. “They were trying to find out what and how much we know. They’re scared we’re getting close. I believe her when she says she didn’t give anything up, I don’t think she’d still be alive if she’d talked. I think they were just getting started on her though, if you hadn’t found her when you did…” he shook his head again, glancing at his shoes briefly. “They’d started pulling fingernails, Inuyasha.” He said delicately before patting him on the shoulder and walking away.

Inuyasha closed his eyes, trying to compose himself before heading into her room. He drank in the sight of her as he shut the door. He took in the small bandage on the side of her head, the sling on her arm, her wrapped wrists and her bandaged fingers. The majority of her face was covered in deep purple bruises and the corners of her mouth looked split.

Her eyes cracked open, a small smile gracing her lips. “Hey.” She called out weakly. 

“Hey.” He replied back softly, approaching her bed.

“What are you doing here? I thought they finished the tests at the lab, confirming that Montana’s group planted that bomb. You were supposed to be making that arrest on Montana today.”

“Kouga’s going.” 

“We all know that you should be the one making that arrest.” She said firmly to him.

He rested a hand on her bed, leaning down, bringing his face close to hers. His breath warm on her face, Kagome caught a whiff of his spicy cologne. “Nothing else matters, except for you.”

She sucked in a breath, heart racing. Her chocolate eyes studied the greyish depths of his violet ones. He leaned in closer, stopping when he was a hair’s width away, pausing for a moment to see if she would object. When she didn’t he placed a brief tender kiss to her lips.

He smiled at her grin. “I think you should let me take you to dinner when you get out of here.” When she nodded he held up a finger. “Actually. How about I’ll take you to dinner if you agree to not go back to crime scenes alone.”

She laughed. “Deal.”

@ruddcatha​ @lavendertwilight89 @cstormsinukagblog​ @clearwillow​ @witchygirl99​ @dangerouspompadour​ ​ @pinkpigeonstudio @superpixie42 @smmahamazing​ @bluejay785 @zelink-inukag @liz8080 @rootpatterson @umacaking @zelico

[kristahliaweek]

The Perfect Crime

Baron Whitney. That man had been allowed to live for far too long, considering how absolutely atrocious of a neighbor he was. His disgusting lawn had been the subject of much ire across the neighborhood, since the residents generally prided themselves on their dignity and the overgrown wilderness festering at his front door was a blight on their image, but nobody had the guts to just kill him already. All over the neighborhood website Dahlia had seen people publicly complaining that Whitney’s front lawn needed to be raided by the Homeowner’s Association effective immediately, but nothing ever came of their empty threats. Since nobody ever confronted the man, he neglected to clean up his act.

Why did Dalia have to do everything herself? Although, she supposed she wasn’t completely alone this time… she did have a co-conspirator after all.

The night was quiet enough that a gunshot would be heard almost immediately, but since base weapons such as those weren’t really Dahlia or Kristoph’s style anyway she supposed it didn’t matter. Poison was much more attractive, but even the combined power of both their maniacal brains couldn’t think of a way to poison Whitney without having to socially interact with him. Ranged weapons would be most suitable for the crime since the criminals didn’t want to step foot in the pig pen that man called a house, but neither of them knew nearly enough about bows to get reliable results. Kristoph insisted that he would make an excellent archer, but Dahlia knew he wouldn’t have the physical strength to draw the string back.

Eventually the diabolical duo settled on throwing sharp objects at him through his window, which was always open so that birds and bugs were entering Whitney’s house at all times. Whenever Dahlia looked across the street she could see the slob in his living room, asleep in his rocking chair while the television blaring at full volume. No matter where you were in the neighborhood, it was a guarantee you could hear the distant voices of soap operas characters.

The second obstacle in the assassination was transportation. In order to get Whitney in range they would have to push through the wasteland of trash and overgrown wildlife all without making a sound. Dahlia had mapped out the most convenient route after a few minutes of diligent tactical analysis, eventually deducing that the safest and most sanitary way would be to sidle along the gate before slowly creeping through the puddle of ambiguous liquid towards the porch. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what had to be done when the rest of the lawn was covered with towers of trash that could topple at the slightest disturbance, alerting the neighbors and ruining the pair’s outfits all at once.

Once they had arrived at the porch, the trouble became a matter of aiming over the piles of garbage that fortified the house both inside and out. There was a wall of trash that almost completely covered the window so that there was only a small opening for a weapon to fly through, and once it had traveled inside it would require an even greater precision not to skewer it on one of the many magazine stacks that stood between the target and the blade. Even if the weapon did manage to pierce Whitney there was no guarantee that the first injury would be fatal, so they had to be prepared to overcome all those obstacles again to land another blow. There was no way to know how many shots they were going to need, so Kristoph came prepared with his entire steak knife collection, discreetly stored inside his briefcase.

That being said, Dahlia only anticipated she would end up needing five knives at most. She and Kristoph had a dartboard in their room with a picture of Phoenix right on the bull’s-eye, and every night before bed they would both throw a dart each to see who would get the closest to his throat. In their nearly 3 years of living together, Dahlia was leading 881 to 103, and the amount of times she hit the mark exactly was around 20% compared to Kristoph’s measly 7%. Of the two of them, she was undoubtedly the more qualified for the job.

She felt every inch of the hilt as Kristoph slid a knife into her hand, “Let’s see how well you do this time.” His words were a whisper, and the same sadistic and condescending smile he always wore twisting across his face like a snake, “Remember to aim for the neck.”

Dahlia gripped the handle tightly and took aim, although finding a suitable angle was difficult when there was a narrow opening composed of stinking trash blocking her. Kristoph seemed to notice her disgust and reached inside his pocket, pulling out a small glass bottle not unlike the one Dahlia used to wear around her neck. Suddenly, an overpowering cloud of perfume had engulfed her. The flowery aroma was enough to nearly mask the repugnant odor, so she made sure to hiss back at Kristoph to show her appreciation before throwing her first knife.

The blade sliced through the air so quickly even Dahlia herself could hardly process it. She watched as it flew through the air and impaled a stack of papers right beside the sleeping old man, causing the tower to collapse directly on top of him. She heard a yelp as the man woke up and found himself buried by the avalanche of magazines, but she didn’t have time to celebrate just yet. Now that he was protected by layers and layers of pages, piercing his skin was going to be even more of a chore then it already was.

She could already feel the second knife being forcefully placed into her grip by her partner, so she took aim again while the man was still preoccupied with preventing himself from being buried alive. The weapon cut straight through the magazine pages and Dahlia soon noticed red staining a cluster of papers where his nose would be, but she couldn’t be sure the wound was fatal when he was still screaming. She kept her gaze trained on her victim and held out her hand to Kristoph, beckoning for him to supply her with another weapon, but after a few slow-motion seconds of not receiving one she was forced to briefly take her eyes off the prize and see what the delay was about.

Kristoph was preparing to throw a knife of his own. Of course that bastard would try to steal her kill! Before she had a chance to vocalize her betrayal, Whitney had burst out from under a sea of papers, wheezing as the blood flowing from his mouth stained the pages below him. Kristoph didn’t hesitate for a moment, immediately throwing the weapon with a frightening force. As always, his aim was just slightly off the mark and ended up burying itself into the drywall directly behind Whitney, but the blade still managed to tangentially slice the side of the man’s head during its travels. The wound cut deeply enough that blood began to begin dripping from his temple instantaneously, and after a shrill scream Whitney finally dropped to the ground.

“It seems I have won this round, Hawthorne.” Kristoph didn’t give Dahlia a moment to celebrate their accomplishment or to scold him for interfering, “Personally, I believe that should count as 5 points.”

Dahlia’s face twisted in anger, “You didn’t even hit the target! If this was the game you wouldn’t be getting any credit, much less five whole points! Who do you think I am?”

“If you had been paying attention, you might have noticed I did indeed hit the target.” Kristoph smirked, “How else do you explain the blood?”

“You get credit for fatal injuries!” Dahlia was struggling to keep her volume under control, “That was nothing but a flesh wound!”

Kristoph laughed a little too loudly, “Why do you think he went limp as soon as I wounded him? Surely you aren’t going to suggest it’s a coincidence. Clearly it was I who dealt the fatal blow.”

“All your little scratch did was hurry the process along!” Dahlia insisted, “I was the one who killed him! I dealt the killing blow, it just took a moment for him to actually die from it!”

“Can you prove that?” Kristoph’s smugness was reaching critical levels, “We didn’t even see the impact.”

“You would never have been able to hit him if I hadn’t trapped him under those magazines in the first place!” Dahlia could feel herself losing control of her temper, “At least give me credit for that! You know you’re a terrible shot compared to me. You can barely hit a piece of paper on a dartboard, there is no way you would have been able to even touch Whitney if I hadn’t restrained him!”

“So when I miss I’m disqualified, but when you miss it’s suddenly some sort of accomplishment?” Dahlia could see his mouth twitching, “Not that I did miss. But you must admit, your first attack even draw blood.”

“This isn’t about my first shot! All that matters is who killed Whitney!” Kristoph’s eyes were no longer visible behind his glasses, “We may not have seen the knife enter the body, but we did see the blood! If I had missed, he wouldn’t have been bleeding! Not to mention that he must have been bleeding buckets for us to have seen it under all that paper. Clearly I was the one who killed him!”

Before Kristoph could respond, a small and unfamiliar voice echoed from across the yard. The criminals whipped their heads away from each other and saw a short man standing at the front of the gate, eyes wide with terror and whimpering at what he had just witnessed. When Dahlia and Kristoph‘s murderous gaze met his, he was petrified for a moment before letting out a deafening scream and running as fast as he could in the other direction.

How inconvenient. Witnesses were always such a hassle. Dahlia supposed her argument with Kristoph must wait until they got home. She looked over to her partner and saw that he was thinking the same thing.

“We will resolve this later. Right now, we must focus on getting rid of the witness.”

[mackinmacki]

You’re Not Allowed to Say That! (White Rose Week #5)

Fandom: RWBY

Pairing: White Rose

Word Count: 2194

Rating: T

Synopsis: Weiss attempts to teach Ruby that swearing isn't very ladylike, to mixed results.

Prompt: Curse

Links: FFN | AO3

———————————————————————————————

It started simply enough. Ruby and Yang were standing on opposite sides of the room, tossing a ball back and forth to each other. Zwei, who had been sent over through the mail for a visit, was happily pacing between them, trying to grab the ball should it be dropped. Weiss, as careful as she was, made sure to repeatedly mention that the two of them were going to break something. It was no surprise that neither of them heeded her warnings.

Now, at least nothing broke. That was the good part. Unfortunately, one of Yang's errant throws nearly broke Ruby. It was too high and too far. Ruby, with outstretched arms, jumped back and tried to catch it. However, it was just too high, and it hit off the wall. She followed suit, banging the back of her head hard against the drywall. Zwei, Yang, and Weiss all immediately started running towards her as the ball bounced uselessly away.

"Oww, fuck!" Ruby groaned, sprawled out on the ground and holding her head. While Zwei and Yang dropped down next to her, making sure she was alright, Weiss had stopped in her tracks. She stared open-mouthed at Ruby, playing back repeatedly what she had just said.

"Ruby!" Her shrill scream caught everyone's attention. All eyes were on her, including Blake, who had been idling around before that moment. "You can't say that!"

"Wha? Say what?" Ruby slowly sat up with help from Yang, rubbing the back of her head and looking at Weiss. It always seemed like she was doing something wrong, but she couldn't fathom what she had done this time.

"That word!" Weiss shouted back, telling her absolutely nothing about what exactly she had said that was so wrong. "It's not very ladylike to curse, you know." 'Ohh!' Well, now it all made sense. Ruby immediately started to giggle, which naturally made Weiss's temper rise. "And just what are you laughing at, Ruby?!"

"Are you trying to tell me not to say 'fuck', Weiss?" When Weiss visibly cringed, Ruby burst out into fits of laughter. "Ow ow, my head, ahahaha owowow! Stop it, Weiss! You're making me laugh too much!" 

"Me?! That's your fault for messing around in closed quarters! And maybe you deserve that for not listening to me." Putting her hands on her hips, Weiss looked like she had just sucked on a lemon. "Cursing is something uncouth women do, Ruby. It's for low class people. As our leader, I expect better from you."

"Aww Weiss, there's nothing wrong with swearing." Yang stood up once she made sure Ruby was okay, ambling over to sling an arm around Weiss's shoulder. "Sometimes saying something's good just isn't gonna cut it. You gotta say that it's bitchin', ya know?"

"I do not know," Weiss retorted, sliding out from under Yang's arm and stepping back, frowning deeply. "You're a bad influence on Ruby, you know that? I bet you swear like a sailor in front of her, and she ends up emulating you. You need to improve your vocabulary, Yang. Blake, back me up here."

"What?" Blake, realizing that she was being dragged into the conversation, tried to slip unnoticed back into bed. "Don't bring me into this conversation. I don't care."

"Like hell you don't!" With surprising speed, Weiss caught Blake before she could sneak under the covers, grabbing her arm and forcibly dragging her towards the sisters. "You're of sound mind, Blake. Wouldn't you agree that swearing is for those who have weak vocabularies?"

"Well, I don't personally swear." She could feel herself sweating, thinking about the copious amounts of swearing in some of the more risque literature that she read. If only Weiss knew there were worse things Ruby could be saying than swear words, like what the main character of the most recent book she was reading was doing to their love interest in the back of a train car. She had a feeling someone as stuck up as Weiss would never recover. "But I'm not going to police other people's dialogue."

"Then you are an enabler." Weiss let go of Blake's arm, shaking her head disgustedly. "I'm disappointed in all of you for this behavior. Especially you." She pointed at Yang, who looked visibly shocked.

"Me?! I didn't even swear! That was all Ruby!"

"Wow, way to throw me under the bus, sis..."

"Yes, but I know that you were the one who taught her to curse like that." Glaring at Yang, Weiss grabbed Ruby's arm and took her towards the door. "If you'll excuse us, I have some lessons to teach Ruby about the art of conversation."

"Aww man! Yaaang, help me!" Ruby squirmed in Weiss's grasp, but didn't have the full heart to yank herself away. "At least take Yang instead! She's the bad influence!" When it came to throwing sisters under the bus, what was good for the goose was good for the gander. Whatever the fuck a 'gander' was.

"Yes, but Yang is irredeemable. I can still save you." There was no more room for argument. Weiss pulled Ruby out of the bedroom and slammed the door, Ruby's cries for mercy fading the further away they got.

"Well then," Yang muttered, scratching at her scalp. "I feel like I should be offended by that, but at least I don't have to deal with a Weiss lecture. Maybe being irredeemable has its perks."

"That's one way of looking at it." 

——————————————————————————————— "Alright Ruby, now let's say you're in a situation where you get hurt." Weiss had taken Ruby up to the top floor balcony, where she was attempting to teach her partner proper etiquette. Considering that Ruby had cursed while getting hurt, that seemed like a good place to start. "Instead of saying the f-word like you did, why not try just saying 'Ow'?"

"Aww, but Weiss, I can't help it! If I hurt myself like that, it just comes out, you know?" Ruby really didn't see what the big deal was. Who cared if she said 'fuck' a time or two? She hadn't expected Weiss to be so anal about it. Hehehe, anal... Probably shouldn't say that out loud either.

"That's because you're not trying!" Weiss huffed in frustration, wondering for a moment if Ruby was also a lost cause. No, she didn't believe that. Unlike her uncouth older sister, Ruby was a much nicer, better-spoken girl. There had to be a way to show her the error of her ways, also known as the error of Yang's ways. "Once you stop using curse words, then it will become more instinctual for you."

"I suppose..." Ruby sighed, shaking her head slightly. Why was this such a big deal to Weiss? Her swearing wasn't affecting anyone. Sure, people were sometimes surprised at the mouth someone as cute and innocent as she looked, but that's what happened when you grow up around people like Yang and Qrow. Besides, they were just words. What was the problem, really? "Don't you ever feel like swearing, Weiss?"

"Of course not! How dare you even insinuate such a thing!" The nerve of Ruby to think she would let such rough words leave her lips. She had been raised better than that. "A proper woman doesn't devolve to swearing when things aren't going her way. That's a lesson you'll need to learn, Ruby."

"That's a lame lesson," Ruby muttered, though she had to quickly take it back when she saw the look on Weiss's face. "Uh, I mean, it's not a lame lesson?" That did not change her expression at all. "C'mon Weiss, this is silly! I'm not as prim and proper as you, okay? Sometimes I swear, and that's okay! Everybody does it!"

"Don't be so broad, Ruby. Not everyone swears. I don't." Ruby was being difficult, but that was normal for her. She had been difficult to deal with since the day they met. That didn't mean it was time to give up, though. Weiss was going to get through to her, no matter how long it took. Well, eventually she would give up, but now wasn't that time.

She spent the next twenty minutes trying to convince Ruby that there were better uses of her vocabulary. Between tips and different words, she threw all of her arsenal at the team leader. Maybe it stuck, but at the moment, it seemed she had still left Ruby unconvinced. At that point, she was tired, and she decided that they would need to reconvene another time.

"Alright, let's go back to the dorm," she sighed, wondering if she had gotten through at all to Ruby. Looking in her eyes, she couldn't tell. Maybe this all was for naught, and Ruby was as far gone as her sister. She would still try, though, at least for awhile longer. There were more connections between herself and her partner than there was with her and Yang, anyway.

"Yay!" Ruby hopped up happily -- a bit too happily. Shaking her head, Weiss got up after her, and the two of them headed off of the balcony. However, being distracted by the entire situation made Weiss less cautious than she usually was. Without her eyes fully focused on what was in front of her, she accidentally rammed her elbow into the side of the door, sending a sharp pain right up her funny bone.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" She cried out and grabbed her elbow, hissing in pain. Barely avoiding hitting Ruby, she hopped around in pain, biting hard on her lip. When she was finally able to calm down and let her pained arm drop down, she noticed that Ruby was staring at her, a huge grin on her face. "What? What's so funny, Ruby?"

"You swore, Weiss." Ruby could barely contain her laughter at that point, her entire body shaking from the effort.

"What?" Weiss blinked, thinking back on what she had just said. When she realized what had come from her lips, her entire face visibly paled. That was saying something, considering how pale she already was. At that point, Ruby couldn't hold back any longer. She collapsed to the ground, holding her stomach as she laughed boisterously. "Stop laughing, Ruby! Stop it this instance!"

"Weiss said a bad word! Weiss said a bad word!" Ruby was howling with laughter, barely able to get any words out. By that point, Weiss was blushing furiously, trying to glare Ruby into silence. It wasn't working. "Wait 'til I tell Yang!"

"You will do no such thing!" Seeing Ruby trying to crawl her way down the hall, Weiss was forced to toss her dignity to the side as she dived for her partner. Ruby let out a cry of surprise as Weiss landed on her, pinning her down to the ground. "Don't you dare tell anyone about this! Especially not Yang!"

"Weiss! Get off me!" Of course, Ruby was stronger than Weiss, which made it easy to buck her off. While she wasn't physically strong, Weiss made up for it in dogged tenacity. She held on for dear life, refusing to let Ruby escape with her semblance and tell the world that she swore. That was going to go to the grave with them, even if they both had to die right then and there.

"Not until you promise not to tell anyone!" By that point, Ruby was basically dragging Weiss across the floor. They were both getting their outfits dirty, but there was more at stake than needing to throw them in the wash. 

"Promise not to tell anyone what?" Both of them stopped what they were doing, looking up to find Nora and Pyrrha standing above them. Nora had a big grin on her face, already sensing there was some gossip in the air that she was excited to hear about. As for Pyrrha, she looked somewhat awkward at the position she had found the two of them in, but a bit curious as to what was going on.

"Nothing!" Weiss covered Ruby's mouth before she could blurt anything out that didn't need to be said. "Nothing at all!" Now Nora was the one with an increasing grin, and Weiss didn't like that look. She had been around Ruby, Yang, and Nora enough now to know that whenever any of them were grinning like that, bad things were to follow.

"Ohhh boy, I can't wait to tell Yang that you're trying to get busy with her sister right in the hallway!" With that, she started running down the hall, leaving Ruby and Weiss in her dust. The two of them stared at each other, realizing that this was much different than either of them had anticipated happening. They both began to blush as they rolled off of each other, jumping to their feet and running after Nora.

"Nora, that wasn't what you thought it was!" "Get back here, Nora!" Ruby activated her semblance, disappearing from view. From her end of the hall, Pyrrha could only hear a loud scream that sounded distinctly like Nora. With a sigh, she shook her head and started to walk in that direction.

"Maybe leaving Mistral was a bad idea."

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 11--Samhain

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo and company go to a resistance meeting, with many unexpected twists and turns along the way.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

The next morning, Ienzo was sore; he felt it rather distinctly when he moved. There had been a little blood, the night before, but it had sorted itself out. He did not exactly feel enlightened, merely disappointed. He had wanted it to be good, or at least painless. He considered buying himself a dilator, considered spells. He knew next to nothing about sex magic; should that change? Or was he merely thinking too hard about things?

Likely the latter.

Aeleus was waiting for him at the kitchen table. “Good morning, Ienzo.”

“Hello.”

“You seem tired.”

“I… am.”

He cocked his head. Aeleus looked tired himself. “Is everything alright?”

Ienzo hesitated. He wanted someone to talk to; but how embarrassing was it to admit what had happened? That he couldn’t even have proper sex with his own soulmate ? He also knew the longer his pause went on, the more Aeleus would be concerned. “Something did happen, but it should fix itself.” He hoped.

He nodded. “I know we… are not so close anymore. But know I am a patient ear, Ienzo.”

He smiled. “I know. And I appreciate it.”

Ienzo made them both omelettes. He needed, more than ever, the neat order of cooking. Perhaps he was more upset than he thought; though he did know that increased emotionality was a side effect of his pills.

“Kind of you,” Aeleus said. “You always were a little chef--though your idea of meals back then were a lot less palatable.”

“I’m sure Even’s been feeding you gruel,” Ienzo said.

He cracked a small smile. “He never did see the body as more than a vessel.” For a moment they ate in silence. Then, “Will you come with me to the Samhain meeting?”

“Yes. Moreover… I have… some interested parties.” When Aeleus’s expression did not change, Ienzo added, “They do not know who I am exactly. But these are also magic users. They sense me. And Demyx.”

“I should like to finally meet him.” He twirled his fork idly.

“I don’t think of them mean any ill will. And apparently I’ve met Kairi. Though I do not remember. I never thought I would be an unreliable narrator.” Ienzo shook his head.

“She was only four when she met you --I’m surprised she remembers as well. But given her magic… I’m not surprised.”

“What is her line?”

“It has to do with the heart, and memory. Her power comes from within, unlike yours, which connects you to the magic of the earth."

“...Must be part of why she has a normal hair color.” Ienzo sighed.

“Indeed. Ansem was fascinated by it, naturally. His own heart always  was with the sciences, not… petty bureaucracy.”

“As was yours, if I recall correctly.”

“And now I use that knowledge to undermine Xehanort.”

“If my parents had not passed, I wonder where you might have gone,” Ienzo murmured. “All of you.” This he did not remember at all; their deaths, comparatively speaking, had been mundane. A car accident, of all the things, and Ienzo’s mother had been too incapacitated to use her magic to save them.

“I doubt that would’ve stopped all that came next. Dwelling on it will only cause you pain.”

“...I know.”

Aeleus scooped up the last remaining bits of egg. “When we go… would be best if you wore a hat. Moreover, we should split up.”

“Then what should I tell Riku and Kairi?”

“There’s an abandoned mansion in the woods. Tell them to meet us there shortly before nightfall.”

He nodded. “Right. I’ll have Demyx meet me here.”

“Do you know if the boy has any combat experience?”

Ienzo thought of the afternoon with the Heartless. “I highly doubt it.”

Aeleus sighed. “Very well.”

The rest of the day, Ienzo waited with an anxious excitement for time to pass. His coursework provided little distraction, even though Eraqus had given him an independent research project. He dressed comfortably, but anonymously, and headed down into the basement.

The previous owner or tenant must’ve had plans to finish the space; there was drywall covering the cinderblock walls, but the floor had yet to be insulated. Considering their utter lack of possessions, it was mostly open, empty space other than the water heater. It had a damp, musty smell to it. Ienzo cast an additional ward on the door and sat on the blanket he’d brought down.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, letting himself feel it spread down to his lungs. He tried to slowly wake the magic, but it was a hungry thing, and rose immediately to his skin. Hence, why he’d wanted to do this down here. He kept breathing, trying to keep his thoughts orderly, calm. He could sense Aeleus moving around in his bedroom upstairs; Even was in the study, writing. Once he thought he was sufficiently centered enough, he stood.

When Ienzo was younger, the magic was more volatile, exploding out of him whenever he had a sudden wave of feeling. Sometimes this had a positive or neutral effect; making plants explode into growth, or suddenly having lights fly out of his hands. Others… not so much. Once a temper tantrum had knocked all of the books off of Ansem’s shelves in his study. Controlling it had taken time; and considering how he’d grown up, he’d had a lot of time getting to know his own power. He could make people see things, hear things. Elemental spells came with ease, as well as healing spells. If not for his physical body, his power would be almost limitless.

Ienzo understood why Xehanort wanted him so badly. Ienzo could be a weapon. Else… a threat to be eliminated.

With the magic humming freshly and readily under his skin, he generated some fake Heartless for himself to fight, tossing his own emotions at them to make them unpredictable in this fight--his embarrassment, his shame, his disappointment. This settled… he struck out at them with a sort of fury, the blades of the magic sharper, their color more intense than he remembered. Was it possible that Demyx was not only masking him, but making his power stronger ?

All the fakes gone, Ienzo was breathing hard, and was sweaty. He noticed that the soreness in his hips was gone; the magic had healed it away. He was just wondering if it were worth taking another shower when his phone buzzed.

I’m here. Demyx.

They hadn’t talked too much since their failed attempt at sex, not that it had been long. Ienzo wasn’t fully sure what to say, but he did want to embrace him. He dismantled the ward and climbed back up the stairs. “What on earth were you doing down there?” Even asked, pouring himself what Ienzo was sure was his dozenth cup of coffee.

“Keeping myself limber--the way you tell me to.”

Even just rolled his eyes.

“Demyx is here. Be nice.” He crossed through the kitchen to the front door and hurriedly brushed some of the dust off of his pants. Ienzo heard rain pattering outside; it must’ve started recently. He opened the door.

“Lovely weather, huh,” Demyx said lamely, lowering the hood of his jacket. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

A beat.

“How are you… doing?” he asked.

“Alright, I suppose. Yourself?”

“...Okay. Dunno if I should be nervous for this or not.”

Ienzo ushered him in. The clothes he was wearing were much darker than normal. “All you have to do is look pretty and be near me.”

A sigh. “Yeah. I know. Adventure, and all that.”

Ienzo smiled a little. He leaned up to kiss him once. “One of my guardians will be going with us.”

Even poked his head into the room.

“Good to see you again. Even, right?”

Even frowned a little. “You’re--” He put a hand to his head. “I completely forgot that ruffian we met that afternoon had a name.”

“...And not exactly a common one,” Demyx said. “That ruffian is right here.”

A faint blush rose in his face. “You’d better take care of him,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s my whole thing.” A shrug.

“I think we’ll survive,” Ienzo added.

Even acted like he hadn’t heard him. “You do realize how important his life is?”

“Do I realize. I was given this , wasn’t it?” He pulled out the pendant. “Look, man. This is the only thing I can do right, so let me.”

Aeleus came down the stairs then. Ienzo didn’t know what he’d expected; Demyx’s free-flowing nature was bound to clash with Even’s anal-retentiveness. “Are you ready to go, Ienzo?” he asked.

“...Quite. Come on then, Demyx.” Ienzo slid his hand into his.

The three of them headed out into the rain. It was a light fall rain, bringing with it freshness and the salt of the sea. Demyx lifted his head slightly, letting it kiss his face. “Rain always makes me miss home,” he murmured.

“I know you are a… seeker,” Aeleus said. “Where does your line originate?”

“Destiny Islands.” The street shone faintly in the rain, especially as the sun set in earnest. Unprompted, Demyx added, “we… were what you’d call sirens. I didn’t even walk on two legs until I was ten. Normally we can shift at will. Normally.”

Demyx hardly ever talked about his past with Ienzo, even since some of his memories returned; he normally focused on more lighthearted minutiae of their days.

Aeleus’s curiosity broke his usual quiet. “What was that like?”

“ Really weird. Everything just seemed so dry , and my skin was so itchy . I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The doctor just said it was trauma.”

“Because you washed up on the beach?” Ienzo asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and his eyes had gone distant. “All of a sudden it felt like… something was missing. That part of me… was just gone.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly.”

“Have you tried, since then?” Aeleus asked.

He nodded. “No go. Almost drowned myself a few times, trying.” With a laugh, but it lacked humor.

It was a miracle he didn’t resent Ienzo, he thought. Then, given their bond, was that possible? He didn’t want Demyx to hate him. “I have magic,” he said quietly. “Maybe I can fix that.”

Ienzo could see he was trying to bite back the hope. “You think?”

“What’s the point of having this power, if I can’t do anything with it? I will try. For you.”

“Power should always be used to help others,” Aeleus said.

“Is there anything else you remembered?” Ienzo asked in a low voice.

“Mostly just… stuff with my parents,” he admitted. “Just normal… stuff. Are we almost there?”

Ienzo did not push it farther.

The trees of the woods only made the rain louder, the sunset still darker. Aeleus’s flashlight soon became one of their only points of light in this darkness. Demyx squeezed his hand a little harder.

“Afraid of the dark?” Ienzo asked, only partially teasing.

“Nope,” Demyx said, but it wasn’t at all convincing.

The path crossed over with an old cobble road that must’ve been in use when the mansion was active, and eventually opened up into a clearing. The building must’ve once been beautiful, though now it was crumbling and derelict; its turrets had peeling shingles, its wide front windows were filthy and cracked, and the stained glass in its small clocktower had pieces missing. The black iron gates had been opened, leading to a garden with overgrown bushes and marble arches that were falling apart. Ienzo could just barely see Sora, Kairi, and Riku by the front door.

“You made it!” Demyx said cheerfully.

“And now my favorite boots are covered in mud,” Kairi added, with a sigh. “Oh well.”

Aeleus pushed open the double doors. Someone had clearly been through; candles had been lit in the rusty candelabras, and there were footprints in the dirt leading to another room. They stumbled over broken bits of inlaid parquet.

“You guys sure this isn’t a trap?” Sora asked. “Seems kinda creepy to me.”

“It is very safe,” Aeleus said.

“I think between us we can handle a Heartless or two. What, you chicken?” Riku asked.

He flushed. “Am not!”

They followed this trail of candles into a small study which seemed normal until Ienzo noticed the trap floor; only Aeleus’s quick hand stopped Demyx falling down the hidden set of stairs.

“Ever graceful,” Riku muttered.

“Shut up .”

But the steps were strange; jarringly metal and modern, and very clean . Sconces shone dimly in the metallic darkness.

“Let me go first,” Aeleus said. “Just to make sure.” He disappeared into the other room. After a pronounced silence, where they all looked at each other, Aeleus added in an odd voice, “Ienzo? Can you come through--just you?”

“Wait,” Demyx said.

“I trust Aeleus,” Ienzo reassured him quickly. “There must be a reason.”

Ienzo took a few steps… and realized why very quickly. With his magic so close to the surface, he could sense Aeleus’s energy… and the energy of one other.

He thought his knees might give out, and he took another few halting steps. “Father.” It sounded more like a bleat, a cry, then a word. “Father.”

Ansem had aged considerably in the past twelve years. His blond hair, once well-kept, was longer, and there were more wrinkles around his eyes than Ienzo remembered, but the warmth in those eyes was still the same. “Well met, little Ienzo.”

He couldn’t help it. He all but threw himself into Ansem’s arms. Tears he didn’t realize he’d been holding in were suddenly streaming out of his eyes. It shouldn’t hurt this much to see him again. He shouldn’t smell exactly the same, like oranges and coffee.

“I wish I could’ve seen you sooner, child. I know.” He could hear the tears in Ansem’s voice as well. “You’re so tall.”

It took Ienzo longer than was dignified to stem the flow of tears. Finally he did, and pulled away from Ansem at least enough to look him in the eye.

“Look at you,” he said softly. “I can hardly believe it.”

He swiped at his eyes. Slowly, he took off his hat, letting his hair fall back into his normal style.

“You look so like your father.”

“Where have you… been?” Ienzo asked slowly.

“In hiding. Much like you. But I have been… trying to devise a way for us to be together again. That starts here, with this resistance.”

“You’re its leader?”

Ansem laughed; Ienzo realized he’d forgotten what it sounded like. “Heavens, no. I’m not certain one could say we have a leader. Even so… I wish for you to have a good life, Ienzo, and for our people to be safe. This is one of the ways to do so.”

“Are you… disappointed in me, then?”

“Why ever would I be?”

Ienzo found it hard to meet his eyes. “Risking myself… for whatever might come from this?”

“Not at all. Your determination to make change is admirable.”

A beat of silence. Ienzo did not know what else to say. “I am… tired of waiting around,” he said. “How can I simply go to school while the darkness advances? While Xehanort wreaks… what kind of hell?”

His expression darkened. “Yes… I believe they were going to speak on that tonight.”

“...Quite.” He paused. “Moreover…” He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out the pendant.

“Oh…” Ansem sighed. “Child, you must understand… they promised you protection. I did not know--”

“It came with a body? Even said the same.” He ran his fingers along the glass. “He… is here with me.”

“That is a comfort. And I understand… you may be resentful. Naturally so.”

“My life has been without choice. Of course I want to do something now.”

A small smile. “Of course.”

“Would you want to meet him?” Ienzo asked.

“...Alright.”

Ienzo felt oddly numb as he climbed the stairs. The others were waiting patiently; Kairi was braiding Riku’s long hair as they watched something on Sora’s phone. Demyx, on the other hand, had an anxious, pinched look on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked instantly. “You look like you’ve been…” He reached out to touch Ienzo’s face.

“Come with me.” He took Demyx’s hand and led him down into that metal room.

Seeing Ansem, he gasped. “Oh--uh--your majesty--” He bowed a little.

“None of that,” Ansem said. “My name is Ansem. A king in exile is no king, is he?”

Demyx’s smile was very nervous. “This is why you were upset.”

Aeleus, who had been tactfully silent, finally said, “I didn’t want to say something sooner… lest it didn’t pan out.”

“Thank you, Aeleus. I know this was difficult.”

“Sorry--I’m just shook,” Demyx said. He pressed a hand to his forehead. “I mean, I knew you were the prince and all, but like--”

“...The prince?” another voice said from the stairs. Riku crossed his arms. “Sorry to crash the party, your majesty.”

They would’ve found out at the meeting, but Ienzo felt the chagrin anyway. Ansem sighed.

“Oh my gods!” Sora’s hands snapped to his mouth. “You mean this whole time you’ve been--”

“I kinda knew,” Kairi said, with a shrug.

“You knew and you didn’t say anything?”

Ienzo’s blush deepened. “Yes, yes, king, prince. We’ve got it.”

Sora frowned. “But if you’re the prince--where’s the princess?”

Ienzo cocked his head a little.

Comprehension dawned on him. “Oh! Sorry, I--”

“It’s okay. And I presume you know you must all carry this secret with you.”

Riku chuckled a little. “Why wouldn’t I? Things just got interesting. Though I’m surprised you got this one to keep a secret.” He thumped Demyx on the shoulder.

“Ow! Hey--”

Ansem laughed too. “These are the reinforcements Aeleus told me of, then.”

Ienzo shook his head. “Quite.”

He approached Kairi. “It is good to see you’re well. And your parents?”

“They’re good too.”

“We should head in,” Aeleus said. “It’s getting late.”

The next room was yet more metal, glowing panels on the floor adding extra light. A handful of people were already there; a woman about their age with a long brown braid, a young man with a scar across his face, a middle-aged blond man, and of all people--

“ Yuffie ?” Demyx asked.

“Guys! Hey!” She was cross-legged on the floor.

“What are you doing here?”

“ Resisting . Duh.” She rolled her eyes.

“But how long have you--”

Her cheer faded a little. “Since my dad died last year,” she murmured. “I kinda took it up for him.”

Yet more voices from the doorway. “Sorry we’re late,” a woman said. “Believe it or not--the train was delayed.” She had a bright blue bob. With her was Even, carrying papers and looking pissy.

There were a lot of people in this small room now. Ienzo knew that soon the air would probably start feeling stuffy. He had so many questions--for them, for Ansem, about this place, about Xehanort, about… everything. All of these magical fields brushed up against his, making him anxious.

Demyx rubbed his arm. “Power, huh,” he muttered. “Yuffie. Who would’ve thought.”

“Can we come to order, please?” the scar-faced man asked tiredly. “Lot of new faces today. I was asked not to point out the obvious about our special guest, so I won’t. Why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves?”

They did. Ienzo learned the blue-haired woman was Aqua, their longtime contact; she gave him a little wink.

“Why are we in this creepy basement?” Sora asked.

“Lotta power in this room,” Riku told him. “Being underground helps keep it from being too obvious. The metal does too.”

“The girls are keeping watch upstairs,” the woman with the braid, Aerith, added. “They’ll let me know if they sense anything.”

The circle had reached him. Demyx gave his hand a small squeeze. Ienzo looked towards Ansem, who nodded once. Not only was he outing himself as royalty, but he was also quite literally outing himself.

Get over it, he thought to himself. These people all knew some level of persecution; would they truly care about gender? “My name is Ienzo,” he said in a low voice. “But more likely… you know me as Ansem’s adopted child… _____.”

He kept his eyes on the floor as the revelation filled the space, a mixture of surprise and smug knowledge in equal parts. He saw Even’s lips flatten into a thin line, his disapproval clear. But he did not protest.

“I hope I may be of use to you. My power. I am tired of hiding and taking advantage of your good grace. Part of this havoc is because of me. I can’t lie back and take it anymore.”

The blond man laughed. “Well, we’re lucky today, ain’t we,” he said around the toothpick in his mouth. “Not one, but three bluebloods. I see you there, Miss Kairi.”

She blushed.

“All that power means something,” Aqua added. “Given Ienzo’s reach… if you’re truly willing to do this…”

“A trump card to turn the tide?” Leon asked. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“I am willing.”

“It might give people hope, to know you’re still alive,” Aqua said. “If not the public… than the very least the other members.”

“That this fighting isn’t for nothing?” Ienzo sighed. “I hope so. Tell me everything. Please.”

Ansem had said there was no leader; but the man named Leon seemed to be most comfortable doing the talking. He outlined the situation for Ienzo; Xehanort so far was determined to take the nation city-state by city-state, spreading his darkness across the nation from one coast to the other. He seemed to have created a second front as well, moving down towards them from the north. Hearing the casualty reports was… sobering.

“Why is nobody reporting this at all?” Ienzo asked.

“The masses would panic,” Aerith said. “Not to mention… where would they go ? Twilight Town is safest at the moment.”

“And the governments are just lying like dogs?”

“It seems… to a degree… Xehanort is willing to see some kind of reason,” Leon added, his lip curling. “If a city surrenders to him… he does apparently offer some kind of protection to the civilians.”

“The trolley problem,” Riku muttered. “Better a few die than all.”

“Quite,” Aeleus said gravely. “Moreover… what of these Heartless? They’ve been breaking through the city wards, and apparently beginning to show some kind of sentience.”

Aqua touched Even on the shoulder; he nodded once. “I’ve been looking into that,” he said. “I’m afraid… the truth is not for the faint of heart.” Ienzo cocked his head; Even scowled. “What? Child, you don’t think I sit around all day doing nothing but wait for you to come home?”

Yuffie tittered. Ienzo’s face heated.

Even gathered himself; his face lost all expression. “Heartless are supposed to be merely shadows, but the information I’ve been gathering… is worrying, to say the least.” He shuffled through some of his papers. “There have been… disappearances, if you will, in these areas noted to have higher than normal Heartless populations. At first, it seemed as though these individuals were simply being consumed, as Heartless are wont to do, but… these Heartless are chatty. They mention something about their hearts, about hearts pulled from bodies… and knowing what I know about a person’s heart and the way it is expressed through the aura… My working hypothesis is that these Heartless are being created from humans. Though how… I’ve yet to determine. Darkness can break physics, but so far all the casualties from Heartless have just been… bodies. I’ll need to study further.”

There was just silence for a long time. Ienzo looked at his palms. That Heartless he’d killed before he’d run into Dilan had been a person… he’d killed someone. A hot rush of nausea nearly brought tears to his eyes.

But they were suffering, he thought quickly. Then, could I have helped them become human again?

Even let out a long breath. “Moreover… there’s some circumstantial evidence that Xehanort… is using some of my own personal research to forward his agenda.” He grit his teeth. “ That I cannot let go of.”

“What kind of research?” Leon asked.

“I was looking into ways to create artificial bodies… to help those who have lost physical functioning. It was all theory , and yet… Cid found some concerning surveillance footage in Radiant Garden proper.”

“The replicas…” Ansem murmured. “You don’t think--”

“I’ve no idea what he would need bodies for , nor do I know how he’d animate them.” Even was really getting agitated now.

“Someone has to find out,” Aqua said. “I could investigate and report back.”

“And be safe about it,” Leon said. “If this is possible… we need to know.”

There was a pronounced silence. “Could I do something with my power?” Ienzo asked.

“No,” Even and Ansem said at the same time; Even locked eyes with the king once, his expression growing pained for a moment before smoothing to neutral. “No, it’s simply too dangerous for you,” Even finished. “They’d sense you in a heartbeat.”

“Even if I went with him?” Demyx asked, the fear in his voice audible.

“It’s not worth the risk.”

Ienzo’s fists clenched in his lap. “So what can I do,” he said softly.

Leon’s blue eyes (a cool blue, a normal blue) met his. “I’m wondering…” He began, drumming his fingers on his notebook. “How does your power… work with electronics?”

“I’ve no idea,” Ienzo said honestly, his curiosity piqued.

“Cid,” Leon said, still holding Ienzo’s gaze. “See what you can come up with about the network.”

“Shit, now that’s interesting,” Cid said. “Right on.”

“So should I connect to this network,” Ienzo said. “What then?”

“Think that depends on the true extent of your power. But potentially… well. Hope I haven’t gotten too rusty at hacking.”

Something to hold onto. “Right.”

The meeting ended not long after that. Ienzo was reeling--between the information about the Heartless, and seeing Ansem again, he had no idea how he was supposed to feel. The others broke off, to talk to Leon and see how they might be of use; Demyx squeezed his hand. “Guess I married up,” he murmured.

Ienzo smiled wearily. He could see across the room Even and Ansem in conversation, their expressions sharp, serious. After a moment, Ansem reached out to touch his arm. “Go on,” Ansem mouthed towards Ienzo. “I’ll see you soon.”

Though Ienzo was loath to listen, he also knew that Even and Ansem deserved a proper reunion as well. He let Demyx guide him out of that stuffy room, back up the stairs, and out of the mansion. It was fully night now. “Samhain,” Ienzo murmured. “I wonder if we’ll see any spirits along the way.”

Demyx shuddered. “I dunno. Not sure I want to find out.”

He exhaled. “You’re right--it’s after dark. We should go home.”

They headed back towards the forest. The rain was heavier now, the darkness thicker; Ienzo lit a small orb in his hand to guide them back onto the path. Demyx shuddered.

“It’s alright, if you’re scared of the dark,” Ienzo said. “Fine, especially now.”

“Some protector I am. Can’t even stand the dark.”

There was a whisper behind them, a crunch; Ienzo turned. “Must be one of the others.”

“Are you… sure?”

“Take a breath. It’s okay.” Still, Ienzo moved a little faster. The whispering got louder.

“I don’t know,” Demyx said, with a trace of panic.

“We’re nearly back on the street. They’ll be repelled by the light.”

The whispering surrounded them, a heavy smell of smoke, making the light in Ienzo’s palm dim. Ienzo let the magic wake further, and found to his shock there were more Heartless than he thought.

“I can… I can take them. Don’t worry.” But Ienzo had never seen this many Heartless at once; he had no idea why he hadn’t sensed them before.

There was a jammer.

“Saїx,” Ienzo whispered. “Oh--Ansem.”

“The others can protect him. We need to get out of here.”

“Stay near me. I’m going to… take care of them.” Heartless being made from people.

Ienzo… hesitated.

It was this hesitation they sensed, and they descended onto them, snuffing out his light entirely, shadows screaming.

Find boy find boy

Help me

Who’s the other one?

It’s hurting hurting hurting

Make it stop. Make it stop.

Where’s my wife?

“Ienzo, maybe you should do something?”

It felt like something was tugging at his magic, making him feel weird, weak, numb--

“Ienzo!” A more desperate cry.

“I can’t--I feel--” He tried to conjure magic with his palms, but it was hard to breathe.

“ Ienzo .”

A burst of light, a smell of the sea, and suddenly Ienzo was even wetter than before, and on the ground. Demyx tapped his face; he was doubled, dizzy, his phone flashlight throwing his face into sharp relief. “Demyx? What…” He struggled to sit up.

“I… I did magic, I don’t know how--they’re gone. The ones I didn’t kill I ran away.”

Ienzo tried to gather his strength. The magic seemed to be returning, so slowly… “I smell… vomit.”

“That was… me. I’m sorry. Just--thinking about what Even was saying--”

“Killing people,” he murmured.

“But they’re not people, they were screaming in pain, I heard it--”

“You did the right thing,” he said.

Demyx helped him up. “It was… water,” he said breathlessly. “Water, and… and light, I--I didn’t even know I could--”

“A latent power.”

“Triggered by you,” he mumbled.

“Maybe you… can get your powers back.”

“We need to get home,” Demyx said. “I… I don’t like the look of this place.”

“I hope we were the only ones attacked,” Ienzo muttered. He had to lean on Demyx heavily. “My fathers…” He pulled out his cell phone to text them. The bright screen sent a finger of pain through his right eye, and suddenly everything went black.

[solarcelest]

troubled history

Day #2

*warnings for school lockdowns and threats*

Damian swore his ears were about to bleed.

His history teacher, a rather moody man who favoured the use of chalk to the much quieter dry erase markers and white board, had been talking about the American revolution for nearly a full hour. At first, it was rather interesting, especially to Damian who tended to appreciate and even enjoy the subject. Now, after almost sixty minutes of listening to the man’s monotone voice, Damian was about to pick up his bag and march out of that classroom faster than Paul Revere himself.

They had extended blocks that day, as they did every Wednesday (one of Gotham Academy’s many downsides) and the eleven year old was more than positive he wouldn’t be able to bare through another half an hour of torture.

With one final glance at the clock and a quick touch up to the notes he was forcing himself to take, Damian raised his hand and held it high for the teacher to see.

And held it.

And held it some more.

His teacher did not look, not even for one short moment did the professor take his eyes off of his beloved chalkboard. Damian rolled his eyes, clearing his throat to gather his teachers attention. Finally, Mr. Myers turned around, eyes scanning the crowd of desks in search of the offending student. Damian waved his hand some, even having to exaggerate the movements before Myers finally spotted him.

“Mr. Wayne?” His teacher asked, looking, for his part, only slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

“May I use the restroom, sir?” Damian asked, sweetening his voice and bouncing his leg slightly to exaggerate his ‘need’. His teacher hardly ever let his students leave one of his lectures, not unless it was a real emergency.

Myers took in the situation, sighed and finally nodded his head. He muttered something rather offensive about children’s small bladders and reminded Damian to grab the hall pass on his way out.

Damian didn’t remember a time he had moved so fast.

The bathroom was only a little way down the hall, the history wing being the closest to the main lavatories. Still, even though the walk was much shorter than he would have liked, Damian was thankful for the chance to stretch his cramping legs and ease the oncoming migraine. He stopped by the water bubbler, taking in a few refreshing sips he hoped would defend against the soon to be headache before entering the boys bathroom.

He hadn’t needed to use it, in fact, Damian despised using the restrooms at school, or any public facilities for that matter. Still though, he entered a stall and let himself slide to the ground, too tired to care about the ocean of germs and parasites he was sure he had just sat on. His head felt a little warm and the cool tile of the floor and wall felt good on his aching muscles.

He wondered if he was coming down with something. If so, sitting on the boys bathroom floor at his child infested school probably wasn’t the best way to prevent obtaining an illness. He let his mind wander for a moment, wondering how long he would be able to his sickness from father before the man discovered him and banned him from patrol.

He hoped not, Damian didn’t get to see his father much out of uniform.

He allowed himself a moment to shut his eyes, the pulsing behind his corneas easing slightly as he did so.

Damian couldn’t have had his eyes shut for more than a minute when the shrill beep of the loudspeaker cut echoed through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiled walls to hit his ears painfully. It was always the same elderly lady, voice scratchy from years of abuse and puffs of nicotine.

“Attention students, we are now in lock down.” She said, voice oddly calm for saying something with so much weight. Damian’s heart rate spiked with the words, he quickly picked his head off from the tile. “Stay where you are and perform the practiced procedure. We have just received a threat and have already notified the police. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.” Damian hurried to his feet, rushing to the door to hurry into the hallway before he stilled. This was not a mission. He wasn’t Robin and, out of uniform, Damian Wayne was nothing but a normal, useless eleven year old kid.

His blood boiled. He knew what he had to do. He also knew it wasn’t all that logical and that if any of the school staff were around, they would tell him to stay where he was. Still, even if he wasn’t leaving the bathroom in search of the potential threat, he didn’t feel comfortable waiting alone and cornered in the bathroom practically waiting for the threat to come to him.

He gripped the hall pass and pressed his ear against the inside of the bathroom door. He listened for a few moments and, upon hearing nothing, proceeded to creep his way into the hallway.

It was eerily quiet and seemed almost as if the school had been entirely abandoned. The classroom doors were shut, shades pulled down and all locked securely. He made his way down the hall, looking for somewhere he could duck into that would provide at least a little shelter.

He had walked about fifty feet when he cursed himself for his stupidity. There was nowhere that offered cover in a school that had initiated lock down. Every door was sealed, every window covered and a janitor's closet would provide even less protection than the bathroom had. It wasn’t even an option to knock on one of the classrooms. Any noise from outside would indicate to the students and teacher that the threat was trying to infiltrate their room. The last thing Damian wanted to do was be mistaken for the criminal.

He cursed himself again when he realized he wasn’t even sure exactly what the threat was.

Mother would have been furious with him.

Perhaps Father was correct and Damian was to rash, to arrogant and pompous a hinderance-

Damian barely had time to duck before everything around him exploded.

Debris flew around with no pattern, littering the floor and Damian with chunks of wood, loose screws, sheets of metal from the lockers and those hideous squares of ceiling. His knees buckled as a large wooden plank crashed into his leg. He fell, tilting to the right as he tumbled into the mess.

It was quiet for a moment and Damian waited, crouched awkwardly over the remnants of the wall that once stood beside him. His leg was trapped, caught under a fallen piece of drywall still attached to the stud. He scoffed at the lousy architecture. A school as fine as this one should have been made more sound.

Damian didn’t get a chance to dwell on the subject before there was another explosion, a little closer this time, and a mound of lockers about twenty feet down the hall exploded. Shards of razor sharp metal flew out in all directions. Damian tried to duck, covering his head and doing his best to crouch down. But , with his leg caught as it was, his attempts were in vain and a large piece managed to slice a large gash on his forehead and upper arm. He gasped, biting his lip in response to the intense stinging before listening for another explosion.

He tried to stem the bleeding as he waited, he wounds tended to pour blood in heaps kissing as little as possible would keep him the most coherent. Besides, he already suspected a concussion, adding blood loss to the lost would make it even more difficult for him to figure out an escape.

After some more time making sure, Damian decoded it was safe enough to assume there wasn’t another bomb. Tightening his grip on wounds, he began to assess the situation. The threat was obviously a bomb, and he hoped there had only been two. The first one must have taken place somewhere on the floor below him, the art wing then, and the other where he was now, near the gym. He was thankful for that, since the gym appeared empty and he was well aware there were no art classes that block. He often escaped history to visits the art teacher. He rather liked her, and subconsciously hoped that she was alright.

He wondered why though, someone would go through the trouble of destroying the parts of the school that were currently empty. As horrible of a thought as it was, it was a rather logical one and Damain supposed it must have been a metaphor or a protest. A large one for sure, and probably from someone not so physiologically well.

A wave of dust came crashing from what was left to the ceiling. Ductwork and pipes could be seen overhead, as well as what Damian believed to be a small part of the late morning sky.

Damian hoped that Father would come, even in the daytime. He was sure that the man new of the current events by now, especially considered who he was both day and night. Damian hoped soon, his vision was already starting to blur, nofcicid by the fuzzy outline of air duct above.

Though, he supposed the man had a right not to come, they had fought again last night after all. Damian had been banned from patrol again. Father and not spoken to him since, Damian realized.

Not a ‘good night’ or a ‘good morning’ or even a ‘hello’. And so, Damian assumed it was best to think that maybe, just maybe, no one was coming for him at all.

[kaitycole]

A Royal Mess (Part 14)

Summary: A lot of shit goes down.

Word Count:1742

Rating: PG-13??

Author Note: I think I’m going to do that thing I hate that writers do and give this a quick ending. BUT then I will branch out into each storyline for a few parts so you can see how the conclusion happened and where they are now. This story kinda took on a life of it’s own and if I’m getting lost, I know some of you are as well. This way I actually finish the series and everyone gets less confused lol

Tag List:  @chiarace  @grimalkjn  @jyreusser85 @hopefulmoonobject​ @enmchoices  @indiacater @captain-kingliamsqueen  @katurrade​ @darley1101  @zilch3 @sleeplessescapades  @bobasheebaby​ @mrsdrakewalkerblog​ @lynn1214  @umccall71  @drakelover78​ @thequeenchoices   @stopforamoment @lauradowning29​ @lodberg​ 

           Madeleine is sitting on the Oludeniz Beach in Turkey. The white sand is soft under her long beach towel that she’s sitting on under an umbrella. Beach or no beach, her skin was too fair for direct sunlight.

           Breathing in the salty air, she feels free. She’s not here for some political event or a social call, she was here simply because she made the arrangements and wanted to go.

           I could get used to this calling my own shots thing. She grins as she watches a group of men play volleyball. Skins vs skins, the best way.

           Glancing around the beach, she sees the employees dressed in khaki shorts and various colored polos depending on which company they worked for. Oludeniz Beach is considered one of the best places to paraglide which means lots of businesses have a spot in the area.

           I wonder what my father would think of the Countess of Fydelia jumping off a cliff that’s up to 6,000 feet above sea level? Couldn’t imagine he’d be happy about it…I think I’ll give it a try!

           She jumps up to her feet, glancing down at her stuff, there’s nothing she couldn’t replace so she leaves it all there. Quickly, she sprints over to the line of people waiting their turn.

           Her life was never really adventurous, family dictating every move and decision in her life and the only adventure she ever experienced was when Leo was involved. She shakes her head, she left all that behind, she left him behind, she couldn’t afford to go back there. Couldn’t afford to keep being that girl.

           Before she knows it, she’s next in line and when she looks up, her eyes meet a man who takes her breath away.

           “Would you like an instructor or you flying solo?” He asks, his blue eyes sparkling, his long hair pulled up in a bun.

           Usually not a fan of long hair on a male, but I’ll make an exception. His blue eyes remind me of Leo’s. She sighs, you can’t do this to yourself, Madeleine. Forget him.

           “Solo, unless the instructor is you,” she bats her green eyes at him.

           “I think I can arrange that,” his tone is flirtatious and he doesn’t try to hide it. Smirking, he walks over to the other instructor. After a few exchanges, he walks back towards her, smiling as he hands her the gear for her to put on.

           “Ready for an adventure?” He says in a low tone, his lips gently brushing against her ear.

           A shiver shoots down her spine, “Of course!”

*          *

           “What the f--,” Leo catches himself, remembering that Asher and Noah are playing on the office floor. Well, Noah is playing, Asher is laying there, probably wanting Noah to get out of his face.  He slams the magazine upside down on the desk causing Noah to glance up at him.

           “Daddy, you okay?”

           “Yeah, buddy,” he winks causing Noah to return to bothering Asher.

           Calming down, he flips it back over, reading the front cover headline for the millionth time: Countess of Fydelia’s new tailwind relationship! For more go to page 40.” He had no desire to learn more about it, but before he knows it, he has flipped to page 40.

           The array of photos span over page 40 and 41, there’s more images than texts. Apparently the two have been seen together several times for the last week which has the press talking, especially since the divorce has been announced.

           He huffs, feeling as though he’s wasted time and resources looking for her, trying to make things right with her when clearly their future was the least of her concerns. His eyes linger on his least favorite picture of Madi and this boy toy.

           The two are standing in the water, a decent distance form shore. Her back is to the camera, her bare back which causes anger to rise in Leo. Her head is tossed back, laughing while the mystery man is holding her to shield any camera from catching a glimpse of anything she wouldn’t want the press to post.

           How could she be so careless? Topless at a beach with some stranger!?! He shakes his head, standing, before finally dropping the tabloid in the trash. He’s pacing the room, the rage starting to boil before he punches a hole in the wall. It isn’t until Asher starts screaming, that Leo realizes he’s pulling his hand from the hole, drywall pieces falling out.

           “Daddy stop!” Noah’s voice filled with fear as Liam, Katie and Bastien all run into the room.

           “What in the world!” Katie shouts, picking up Asher as Noah runs and wraps himself around her leg.

           “I…I’m sorry,” he says defeatedly to Noah before he lets himself slide down the wall as Liam brushes Katie and Bastien out of the room.

           “This have anything to do with the two-page spread of Madeleine in Turkey?” Liam says sympathetically.

           “Am I that transparent?” He chuckles, “I’m no good to anyone anymore.”

           Liam gives his brother a confused look.

           “Katie went to Damien when I let her down, Madeleine runs off to Turkey and my own son is scared of me now. What good I am?” He looks down at his hand, bruised and cut up, realizing that’s exactly how he feels on the inside too.

*          *

           The early morning sun is beaming on his face, causing him to groan as he stirs out of sleep. His head is pounding from the hangover that he’s had for days. Well since the royal family was seen which included Katie and Asher standing with Leo and the twins.

           When he left, he wasn’t sure he was ready. Wasn’t sure he could stand the scrutiny of the press for being the one who destroyed a somewhat royal marriage. But that all changed when he saw Leo holding his son with an arm wrapped around Katie.

           That had to be for the press, right? Leo made it clear before they were done. Or were they? Where did things stand with everything that had been happening as of late?

           Damien lets out a sigh before placing his head in his hands. He feels a stir on the bed beside him which for the life of him, he doesn’t remember who it is.

           “Morning, love.” The feminine voice says as he feels arms wrap around his torso and lips press against his bare shoulder.

           “Oh. Still here?”

           “That’s no way to be,” the woman places tiny kisses across the top of his back, her hands start to slide down his sides before stopping at his waist. He pushes himself back further on the bed as she straddles him.

           Moments later, the blonde leaves the hotel door, quick, fast and unsatisfied. Damien shrugs, his mind never wonders far from Katie. He wants to go back, to pick up where he left, but he just isn’t sure that he can.

           What if I end up leaving again? I did just what Leo did that started all of this. You’re such an idiot Damien.

           Shaking his head, he grabs his suitcase, shoving everything he can in it before rushing out the door, throwing caution to the wind.

*          *

           Katie wanders around the palace. Even after the years she’s been with Leo, she’s still finding out just how big the palace really is. She’s walking around the ballroom with a folder in her hand, trying desperately to figure out how to talk to Leo. She eventually walks into the dining hall, hoping maybe she’d gain some courage the more she paced.

           Liam and Riley are currently in Auvernal, discussing marriage deals for Princess Eleanor, which means the palace is full of tension, leaving just Katie and Leo there alone.

           “Katie.” He says, not lifting is eyes from the papers he’s scanning through.

           “Leo. We need to talk.”

           “Do we?”

           He’s sitting at the head of the dining table, absentmindedly thumbing through the files he has in front of him. If he’s honest, he had already looked through them, but he’s just hoping that it will cause her to leave him alone.

           “Leo. Please.” She stresses the ‘ease’.

           He puts the papers down, noticing that she’s holding a folder of her own, “What’s that?”

           She tosses the folder on the table towards him, she watches as he opens it.

           “Adoption papers?” He takes a sip of his coffee, contemplating his response, “Are the twins not mine either?”

           “Very funny. It’s for Asher.”

           “You want me to adopt Asher? What about his father? I doubt he’d be okay with this.”

           “I haven’t heard from his father in weeks. Who’s to say that you aren’t his father?”

           Leo bites his tongue and settles for giving her an unamused looked, “He hasn’t reached out but that hasn’t stopped you from wanting him to.”

           “We never did a DNA test; can’t you just pretend you never found out about that night?”

           “I don’t think that’s possible.”

           “Oh. Why not?” She puts her hand on her hip, “it’s not like Madeleine is going to pick you.”

           “That may be, but I still have these.” He slides the folder he’s been skimming through towards her.

           Opening it, her entire demeanor falls along with her jaw, “You…you can’t be serious.”

           “Oh, love, but I am.” He winks at her as he walks passed her, exiting the room.

           She looks down at the papers once more: Petition for Divorce.

           Flipping through them, she notices there’s two stacks of paperwork.

           The breath is knocked out of her when she reads the headline of the second stack: Petition to Modify Custody.

*          *

           He stands at the main palace gate, not sure if he’d be able to make it any further. Everything he owned was in the old and busted up suitcase in his hand while his head was somewhere within the palace walls.

           Pulling out his phone, he dials the only number he’s ever memorized.

      ��    “Hello?” The voice that answers speaks timidly, as if they are worried this is just some dream.

           “It’s me. Well of course you already knew that. Uh…uhm…I’m here.”

           “Here?” There’s an urgency in their voice now.

           “Here.”            

           The line on the other end dies and so does the small amount of hope he had when he showed up. He turns around, trying to decide what’s left for him now that he’s destroyed the very thing that he wanted.

[deathly-sick-flowers]

Intro: Dima & Anna

“what’s going on with you? why are you being like this??” Anna begged

“i don’t fucking know!!!” he was infuriated this time, his anger bled tears that did little to quench the heat on his face. “i’m so angry i don’t know what to do”

Anna was crying by now and looked around the remains of their home, shattered glass and dents in the drywall painted the scene of a struggle. just how long exactly had she been witnessing Dima blow off steam? why wouldn’t he say anything to her?

“They’re laughing at me, they’re crawling in the walls, why don’t you hear that??” Dima cried, but Anna could not follow him in his episode. the Ketamine and drink mix had turned her into a pale statue. Dima raged through their home like a solar flare, incinerating anything in his path.

“where are you going, Dima, i’m scared” was all she could manage. rummaging in his tools she knew the sound of metal clanking and scraping against each other as he shoved his way through his tool case looking for, well...

“where is it?”

“where is what?” Anna pleaded

“you fucking moved it”

“i hate seeing you like this, please sit down with me”

Dima began to laugh hysterically, falling to the floor in a mess of loose tools and bolts. the metal gleamed under the light and the scene was unreal, Anna collapsed to her knees.

“please don’t leave me, i don’t want to see you do it” Anna cried softly.

Dima was laying on his back, face wet with tears, cuts on his hands. He grabbed a screwdriver and threw it at the cursed light that shone down that heavy shame. he was lost. fueled by insanity and drugs, he screamed at the glass that fell all around them, bits of copper and metal scattered on the floor.

The gun Anna had hidden on top of the light, shaken from the impact, fell almost in slow motion. it felt like that moment lasted 5 minutes, as Dima would learn to answer for his anger and self-diluted drug rampage.

the only thing he could think of, was him always saying how he would leave one in the chamber in case of emergencies. the gun Anna had got him for his birthday, how sweet the tension must have felt looking in her eyes as they both realize what their arrogance had cost them.

the gun body-slammed the concrete in a devastating explosion of light and thunder. it shone so bright Dima could see Anna’s tears staring back at him as the bullet ripped through her cheek and clean out the back of her skull, all in the bat of an eye.

Anna stayed on her knees for a brief second, almost as if she didn’t feel any pain. the bliss of Dima’s shocked face was all she could see. she slumped and banged her draining head onto nuts and bolts thrown from the toolbox. silent, no tears, just a surprised gasp as her warm blood puddled around her.

Dima Dima Dima.

Look where your pride has gotten you. what did you have to be so proud about?

Dima took her in his arms, and for once, he felt nothing. he sat with her for hours in silence. a man left alone, with his thoughts. he didn’t shed a tear. spoke not a word. he gently lay her head on the floor, and grabbed a loaded magazine.

“I won’t leave you” Dima said, finally.

[ecto-american]

Accident

DannyMay 2019 themed story, I’m not late I’m just going my own pace pls be nice to me

Ectoplasm | Broken | Glass | Theory | Community | Eavesdropping | Worldbuilding | Or Read on AO3.

Day 13: Accident

This was going to be a long night.

Jazz had been quiet most of the trip home, staring out the window and listening to the radio softly. Jack didn't try to make conversation either. He knew something was off, and Jazz was involved. Somehow. His mind continued to flip through possible theories, but none clicked. They pulled into the driveway silently.

"Alright, Jazzpants," he tried to speak cheerfully, but he knew it fell flat. "I'm going to bring your mom's things in, get packed myself, and get her stuff, and we'll be off back to the college tour!" Jazz simply nodded. "Meanwhile, can you go ahead and start cleaning up some of the ectoplasm in the kitchen?" Jazz was quiet.

"...Yeah, I can see what I can do," she finally said. Jack forced a smile, and he hopped out of the RV, Jazz following suit. He grabbed Maddie's suitcase as Jazz went ahead inside.

Jack followed her soon after, closing the front door behind him.

"Danny? You home?" he called out hopefully. There was no reply, and he went into the kitchen to see Jazz curiously opening up the pizza box. Danny's phone was still on the counter, and the note was left untouched.

"Do you think this pizza's still good?" Jazz wondered. "Like can I heat some up?"

"Oh yeah, go ahead," he encouraged her. "Can you heat me up a plate too? We have time to watch that one show you like if you want, the one with the science lady? It should have recorded."

It hurt that Danny seemingly was going to skip out on Jack's impromptu father-son night. Perhaps another time… At least he could have a nice quick dinner and some father-daughter time. And by judging how Jazz seemed to smile for the first time since she and Maddie got there, she seemed to enjoy the idea.

"Yeah, I'll just heat it up in the oven, it tastes better when you do that," Jazz insisted. She carefully avoided all the ectoplasm all over, and she began to dig through the cabinets.

"Let me know when it's done, I'm going to pack and get some stuff for your mom," Jack replied. Jazz gave out an 'okay!' as she continued her search. Jack took Maddie's bag upstairs.

He could tell that despite the cleaning, there was still a lot of ectoplasm in the carpet. It was making the carpet hard and rough as the mixture had dried. Oh well. Least he got a lot out already.

Despite the evidence pointing otherwise, Jack still took a step into his son's room and called for him once more. Hoping that somehow, his son had just sleepily wandered in and missed everything, going straight for bed. The room was void of any life, and there was no sign somebody had stopped by.

Jack moved to his own room to begin packing. He left Maddie's suitcase on the bed for her to unpack later, and he took out the other suitcase.

He could hear Jazz coming up the stairs quickly, and he paused. She went into one of the rooms. Probably her room. Jack didn't put any thought into it, and he continued his packing. But then he heard the knocking, and he stopped to listen. Knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock, knock. Jazz's footsteps soon hopped back down the stairs quickly, only to run back up less than a minute later. What on Earth?

He poked his head into the hall just in time to see long orange hair go into Danny's room. Jack immediately followed as the knocking came back up.

Jazz had her ear pressed to the walls near Danny's bed, and she would knock. In her hand, she held a large knife. Jack watched her silently. After several more knocks, Jazz finally stopped. She took the knife and stuck it into the wall.

"Jasmine Fenton!" Jack suddenly spoke, and Jazz jumped in fright, spinning with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I-uh, I'm," she began to sputter out nervously, glancing between her dad and the knife stuck in the wall.

Jack studied her for a good long while as Jazz offered up no explanation. Instead, staring at him like a deer in the headlights, arms crossed over her chest as she rocked on her heels. Her behavior was so out of character. Her concern for Phantom. Seemingly less concern about where her brother is. Why she was placing staying with a ghost in the hospital over her college tour. His last theory, the wildest one, was somehow the most reasonable.

"He's Danny, isn't he?" Jack questioned.

"Of course, his name's Danny Phantom, so like, of course he's Danny," Jazz replied quickly with a nervous chuckle.

"...Jazz…"

Her lower lip quivered hard, and the waterworks began again. Jazz sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve once more. The jig was up.

"Why didn't you tell me that Skulker tried to skin him?" she demanded to know. "He had to tell me himself!"

"He couldn't have told you anything," Jack lightly argued. "You apparently guessed. Was it that plausible of a choice that you were able to guess?" Jazz flinched. "Why didn't you tell us?" Jazz frowned.

"Molecule. By. Molecule."

Oh. Right. Jack returned his attention back to the knife.

"...Why are you cutting holes into Danny's wall?" he asked. Jazz glanced at the knife.

"Danny hides stuff in the walls of his room. Things he wants to keep secret," she began. "He'll phase them into the wall. I know somewhere he has some modified ecto-dejecto that he'll drink to help him stay energized." Jack stared at her.

"Modified ecto-dejecto? That stuff Mads and I made to weaken a ghost?" he questioned curiously.

"Yeah. Your original formula made them more powerful," Jazz explained. "But Danny also took your original formula, and he modified it to be kind of an energy drink. So he can stay in his ghost form longer and have more energy to fight." She reached up to grasp the handle of the knife. "Danny's ghost form isn't unlimited. Sooner or later, he's going to pass out and turn ghost again. Especially if he's going under for surgery. I was...I was going to sneak him some."

Oh god. Oh no. His son was a ghost. And in the hospital. Where the Guys in White were. A shiver of horror ran up his spine. This was bad. And his son was a ghost. His son was a ghost. And not just a ghost, his son was Danny Phantom. That ghost he was so close to dissecting. A ghost he had dreams about dissecting and studying his organs. A ghost he was going to encourage Maddie to collect samples from while in his most vulnerable state, when that was his son who was badly injured from a ghost fight with another ghost and needed his parents more than anything. Oh god.

Jack felt a bit lightheaded, and he immediately took a step to the side to sit on Danny's bed. He felt ill. All the ectoplasm and blood stains on the bed...Oh god. How many times were those injuries were from him and his mother?

He stared up at Jazz as she began to continue cutting through the wall with some struggle.

"How did this all happen?" Jack asked quietly. Jazz glanced briefly at him as she continue to stab through the drywall.

"The summer before Danny began high school," she replied. She paused for a moment before shifting to continue cutting a small square in the wall. "He was in the ghost portal when it turned on. You know. The accident."

The ghost portal…

Danny always told him that it just seemed to flick on when he was down there showing his friends. That it sparked to life. Maddie and him had determined that maybe it was just a delayed timing, or that maybe Danny or his friends were pushing the buttons and a magic combo had made it turn on. And that he just was too nervous to admit that he was fiddling with his parents' things in the lab. To be in the lab. Inside when it turned on...Jack couldn't imagine the kind of intense pain that came with that high voltage shock.

"And he became a ghost?" Jack questioned. "How? What happened exactly?"

Jazz finished cutting. She used the knife the begin forcing the square out of the wall, the piece wiggling.

"Danny's half ghost," she clarified. "...I don't know for sure. I wasn't there. And Danny doesn't like to talk about it. I've asked him before, but he said he doesn't like to think about it. I've asked Tucker and Sam too, but they don't really say much either. I'm guessing it just brings up too many bad memories."

She got the piece out, setting it and the knife on Danny's nightstand. Jack never felt like a worse parent. Jazz used her phone's flashlight to look in the hole, and she smiled in relief. She reached her hand inside to dig around.

"How did you find out?" Jack wondered. He prayed deep down that Danny didn't tell her. It already hurt so much to know that Danny refused to tell him and Maddie. Even despite him coming home.

Oh god, Phantom was coming home. This was his home.

"I accidentally saw him go ghost," she said. The reply gave an odd relief. "Got it!"

She pulled out a fistful of small bottles, glass bottles that Jack and Maddie had assumed Danny had accidentally dropped and broken, like he had so many in the past. Oh no. That was only after Danny went into high school. When his ghost form would have been still stabilizing. Intangibility.

The bottles were full of a bright green, slightly glowing liquid. There was a piece of tape on the bottles, labeling them. Ecto-Dejecto Energy Drink.

"And this will help Danny stay safe in the hospital?" Jack questioned. Jazz shrugged.

"I can't say for sure," she confessed. "But if nothing else, it'll help give Danny some energy to stay a ghost. Hopefully even enough that he won't turn human again under the knife. It's just the only thing I really know right now. I tried calling Sam and Tucker, but neither one of them are answering."

"Is this the worst Danny's ever been injured?" Jack wondered. Jazz studied him for a moment.

"I think any other questions you have, you really should just ask Danny," she finally spoke. "It's not my thing to discuss. And he could give you better answers anyway."

"But-" Jack began to protest.

"But nothing. Danny's really hurt, and I'm sure he'd really like to have you and Mom there fully supporting him," Jazz argued. "And me."

Jack sighed, hanging his head as a million thoughts tried to rush through his mind. So many questions…and the one who knew all the answers in full couldn't talk.

"Come on," Jazz tried to encourage him. He felt Jazz wrap her arms around him in a hug. "Let's eat some dinner then go see Danny."

The entire ride back to the hospital was still silent, but with less tension. For the first time since he came home, Jack felt some form of ease. He knew where his son was. And even though he was in rough condition, he was in great hands. Though there was an entirely new anxiety, this new secret he had to protect.

Jazz was walking ahead of him quickly to the room they were told he was in. She found it before him, and she disappeared into it. By the time he reached the door, Maddie was leaving the room, looking a bit curious but smiling when she saw him.

"Hey," she greeted him. Jack smiled weakly back, and he handed her a backpack.

"Hey, baby. Brought the chargers and such," he told her. Maddie happily accepted the backpack, swinging it onto her back.

"I learned a lot about Phantom so far," Maddie began, digging her phone from her pocket to show him. "He has a human-like skeletal system. He's able to take in human-like medications and react to them. And he spoke a bit about his personal life."

Jack studied the notes on her phone that she had taken. He went from curiously scanning the pages to growing more and more somber. He soon gave a deep, hard exhale. This was one of the hardest things he'd ever have to admit to her.

"I have...I have to talk to you about Phantom," Jack finally spoke. They locked eyes, and Maddie's heart sank deep into her stomach. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

"No," she whispered. Jack handed her back her phone, looking away.

"It's the only thing that makes sense," he lightly protested.

"It's not possible," Maddie argued weakly.

"It explains everything," Jack breathed. "It connects every dot. The similarities, the problems at school, the secrets-"

"Jack, it can't be," Maddie was barely holding back tears as the flood of emotions was washing over her. She put her hand over her mouth as she tried to think. Tried to find an argument, something to counteract against the conclusion Jack had come to. A conclusion that had begun to grow in the back of her own mind that she refused to let settle.

"Maddie…"

Maddie took a deep breath. Her eyes moved to look at Phantom. He was sitting upright in his hospital bed as he interacted with Jazz. She was talking to him with a serious expression. Phantom was so comfortable around his sister.

"My baby," Maddie spoke softly. The truth was more painful than any injury.

[tarralin]

Whirlwind

SFW ((Word count: 3496))

A/N: This is almost a month late but here we go! A few of us were greatly inspired by this glorious creation by the amazing @pastel-hideout (thank you for doing the Lord's work👏👏) when fangirling led to brainstorming which led to this smut-off challenge issued by @darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts and @xathia-89 with a few others of us joining in. Part 2 will be hosted over on @spicytarralin at a later time

Sir by @darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts

Yes, Professor by @jennacat84

A Towel is Optional by @xathia-89

~☆~

She should have been home hours ago yet here she was burning the midnight oil on a Tuesday after both of her teammates packed up their desks with no prior notice, leaving her to thread together the monthly financial reports alone. Truthfully, it really could have waited until tomorrow-- or even Thursday-- but working so close to the wire always filled her with dread and stole her sleep anyway.

A few too many power surges during video game marathons as a kid had drilled home a habit of frequent saves and a need to hoard duplicate reports like a dragon collecting its treasure. Habits she was eternally grateful for in times like this as they enabled her transform the seemingly mountain-sized workload into a manageable molehill.

Aaaaannnnnddddd I'm done!

A perk to being the only soul in the office was no one around to witness the unladylike victory dance as she pranced barefoot to the printer or her horrible rendition of a Broadway musical number with the innocent corporate report portfolio as her prop. Until lively clapping sounded immediately behind her, startling her to the point of knocking her off balance from the grand battement she was performing and sending her promptly to the floor.

A chuckle rumbled from the white-haired culprit as he extended a hand to help her up. “I was unaware we had a little mouse scurrying about during the nights and giving free entertainment.”

Her ears burned from being caught as a cold sweat ran down her back at the embarrassment. She accepted his hand to right herself and inspect the portfolio's contents before correcting him. “Only tonight. I'm not in the habit of pushing things off to the last minute… and I thought I was alone.”

“You were until a few moments ago,” another chuckle as his gaze latched onto the reports in her grasp. “I was just informed two of my lead accountants left the company without warning this afternoon and abandoned their work. I just came to take care of it myself but it looks like I was beaten to the draw. It's reassuring to know there are reliable individuals here who will rise when others fall. Let me take those off your hands.”

He reached for the folder only to be denied when she pulled it back out of reach. “I'm also not in the habit of releasing sensitive documents to just anyone who claims to be a boss. Especially when I, personally, have never seen his face. I apologize for any offense but I'll drop them off at the office myself, thanks.”

The casual smirk faded as surprise flashed through in his golden eyes before his grin returned, outstretched hand sweeping the room in an open gesture for her to lead the way.

Emboldened by his quick acceptance, she trotted away toward the elevators--

“Ahem…”

--until his voice stopped her and she watched the man bending to retrieve her heels from the floor. “Don't you need these?”

I'm going to have potato chips for ears before the night over if I keep this up. She managed to avoid eye contact as she slipped back into the death traps of fashion but caught sight of a growing grin as he waited patiently.

“I've never actually been to the executive floor before.” The typical droning elevator music had been cut at the end of business hours, plunging the ride to the top floor in the eerie silence she hated and felt a need to fill the void. “So this is a bit of an adventure.”

“Nothing too grand, I assure you. Just a few conference rooms and the private offices of the department heads.”

She shrugged at that. “Still a first and-- whoa!”

The entire floor appeared encased in sparkling crystal in the moonlight. Frosted and etched glass separated each room and office instead of plaster and drywall, giving an illusion to privacy. Dimmed lights along the wall base lit the floor path to the center hub where a circular receptionist desk sat like the heart of communication it probably was to the handful of walkways.

And he said ‘nothing too grand’.

“I have a strict open door policy.”

“ ‘Open door’? There are no doors at all to open.” Her eyes scanned the area for where the portfolio was supposed to go until they landed on a silver box to her left similar to a post office mail drop. As she approached it, an engraved plate denoted it as the ‘after hours’ report drop.

“Feel better?” The gentleman questioned with a raised eyebrow and the same smirk from earlier after her bundle landed inside the box with a distinctive thunk.

“Yes, I can now sleep soundly without it looming over my head.” She answered firmly, turning back down the short hall. She only made it a few steps before the jingle of keys sounded throughout the floor. She turned just in time to witness the man unlocking the box as if he had a thousand times, tucking the portfolio under his arm like a morning newspaper.

Yup, my ears are definitely burning to crisps.

She tried to evade him but the elevator just wouldn't move fast enough and he stepped onto the platform right as the doors closed behind him. She didn't dare say a word, thinking back to earlier and worried about how long he had watched her gather the reports together. She was so sure she had been alone until he appeared out of nowhere like a ghost.

I'll probably be fired in the morning.

The landing bell signaled the end of the line and they both exited into the parking garage, waving to the security guard before he caught her attention by holding up the folder. “I assume you'll be available for questioning should I require any clarifications?”

“Actually, after that performance, I planned to live under a rock for the rest of my life.”

“Depriving the world of such a delight? And people call me a tease.”

She shook her head with an eye roll, fighting against the fresh wave of embarrassment that threatened to singe her ears and cheeks again. She never had trouble remaining professional at work before, why was it so hard now and especially in front of this man? She needed to wrap things up and be on her way before she made a fool of herself any more than she already had.

She turned to him once reaching her car. “It was an honor and a pleasure meeting you, but now I have a suitable rock to hunt down and so I bid you goodnight.” There. That was mostly professional, right?

“The honor was all mine,” he extended his hand casually for a parting shake. She hesitated when she caught a glimpse of mischief sparkling in those golden eyes but shook off the feeling and accepted his hand firmly. Of course, it was a trap. Instead of releasing her after the appropriate time, he turned her hand in his and brought her knuckles to his lips. “As was the pleasure.”

That promptly turned her brains to mush incapable of words. With only a nod, she retrieved her hand and loaded in her car to finally make her way home.

~~~

Instead of being fired the next morning, Mitsuhide Akechi himself walked the finance floor until finding her desk to hand her a crate loaded with binders of financial reports for the last two years.

“I have some concerns but can't locate exactly what's wrong. I've already distributed your usual work to others as this will be your priority for the next week. You'll report directly to me only and the conference room at the end of the hall is yours for the time being as well.” Like a whirlwind, he was gone again, seemingly oblivious to the excited chatter following the shocked silence he rendered across the floor with his mere presence.

Even with such vague instructions, it didn't take long for her to find his ‘concerns’. The reports before her spelled out a textbook case of money laundering. However, the culprits were good at covering the tracks and distinguishing the pseudo-businesses from the legitimates would be the most time-consuming. But not impossible. All she had to do was find the patterns within the numbers…

It didn't take the whole week. By lunchtime on day three, she had her final report ready with her findings. Even with the evidence in hand, it was hard for her to believe that she had been working alongside the culprits for so long. No wonder they up and left all of a sudden, they must have known their thievery had been found out.

But why didn't Akechi seem surprised?

After presenting the information, he only smirked up at her as usual. “You even tracked down the ‘business’ owners. Impressive.”

When you say it like that… “Y-you already knew?”

A sigh as he righted the report in front of him into place. “I've known of those two's illegal activities since before they began.”

“Then why didn't you stop them?”

“ ‘Never interrupt your enemy when they're making a mistake’, plus it was quite entertaining to watch their poor attempts for a little while.”

“ ‘Entertaining’?! Who on Earth would just sit back and watch while people steal from their company? And what was the point of having me investigate it if you already knew?”

“Because, my little mouse, if you brought me the correct names it meant you played no part in the scheme.”

Ice flashed through her veins. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He stood at that, circling his desk to loom over her. The gaze he leveled her way froze her feet in place and, for a moment, she really did feel like a mouse caught in a predator's trap. “You didn't really think there was no backup plan, did you?”

Only sheer will kept her from trembling as realization struck. Just a few weeks ago, her identity protection plan had notified her of suspicious activity but assured her they had it taken care of. “They… they tried to pin it on me.”

“Indeed, luckily it appears you made some smart choices. And of course, I happen to be a little more than the average businessman.”

And here I called Dad paranoid for buying me that protection...

“Also,” his voice switching back to business mode as he paced back to his chair drew her from her panic. “Your thorough investigation shows you capable of filling one of the empty lead positions.”

“You're promoting me?”

He blinked up in genuine surprise. “You have an objection?”

“No!” She recovered. “It's just… a lot to take in and definitely not the direction I thought things would take.”

“Oh?” He grinned with genuine interest. “What direction was that?”

"A few days ago I thought I was fired!"

A chuckle while he sipped at a coffee mug. "I'll email you a briefing on your new duties and you can visit HR once you've moved into your new office."

"Thank you!" She turned excitedly on her heels to begin her new journey.

~~~

Akechi became a familiar face on the finance floor after her promotion, claiming an interest in overseeing her transition and supplemental training himself. Though it seemed he had more of an interest in seeing how far he could push her past her limits. For weeks, each visit rendered her with a heightened pulse as his words always held a double meaning that never failed to pull very not safe for work images to mind. He never touched. Nor pushed further if she showed the teeniest hint of resistance, switching back to complete professionalism that only flustered her more most days.

That changed one day when she needed paper for the floor printer.

The supply closet located to the left of the elevator and stairwell was so small it was nearly impossible for two people to fit into the space packed with Xerox packages and janitorial supplies.

Nearly.

“Little Mouse.”

She jumped at the shattered silence until recognition of his baritone registered. “Mr. Akechi, can you please stop doing that?”

“But you make it oh so tempting, I can't help myself.”

“And you said you were more than an average businessman.”

His familiar chuckle pranced across her ears, sending delicious shivers down her spine. “Up to now, I have been. Took pride in my self-control. Imagine my surprise when I witnessed a carefree spirit dancing on my financial floor and suddenly taken by an overpowering urge to join her.”

She blinked up at him silently while he stepped so close she could feel the heat wafting off him though, as usual, he never touched. His words sounded more and more like a confession, an impossible confession. She was just an accountant-- No, wait… Her throat finally opened up for her to ask the question suddenly screaming for an answer. “Did you really promote me for my capabilities, or only to get close to me then?”

The question was out but she looked away, unable to witness the answer with her own eyes. Slender fingers whispered across her jaw, coaxing her to look back up to him. Those same fingers traced her bottom lip once she did, the liquid heat of his eyes taking her breath from her.

��I was already infatuated before walking you to your car, I will admit. Then I pulled your employee records. Spotless with nothing but positive words from your previous superiors. That, alone, wouldn't be very impressive to me but were you aware you have a letter of recommendation from Tokugawa? Those are not easily achieved. Honestly, I have no idea how those other two ever thought they would manage to frame you for their misdeeds. Which is why I gave you the chance to prove yourself first but had the termination papers ready to sign should you have failed that little test, feelings present or not.”

“But I passed.”

“I knew you would-- hoped even. You are talented and earned that position yourself, have no doubt in that.”

“Alright…” Now, how the hell am I supposed to address the other thing?

As if he read her thoughts, he brought the tip of his finger back across her lips to softly silence her. “I know this is not the typically ideal setting for such a conversation but I couldn't hold back any longer when your snark offered the perfect opportunity, Little Mouse. However, you need not worry about rushing me any reciprocation. Take your time to think about it and I will deal with my own troubles in the meantime. Should you choose to explore further, you need only call me by my first name.”

Her heart raced again. He really had thought of everything, even a clear route to refusal… One she didn't need. She didn't need any more time.

He had just turned to leave when her hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him in place.

“Mitsuhi-”

His lips were on hers before she finished the name, demanding entrance that she gave willingly. Her fingers tangled in his blazer lapels in a feeble attempt to hold onto the world around her while blindsided by such feverish desire as he all but devoured her, his tongue coaxing hers to dance with him.

It wasn't until the prep counter edge hit the back of her thighs that she realized her skirt hiked up past her stocking bands as he settled her effortlessly atop its surface, the cold of it a stark reminder to their location.

“Wait,” she gasped once gathering the resolve to break the trance.

His palms dropped from her hair to the counter instantly at her plea while his forehead rested on hers, patiently waiting for her next words.

She smoothed the wrinkles in his jacket her fingers had created as her breath returned. “Not yet, not here.”

“Too soon.” He nodded in agreement as his own eyes cleared of desire's fog. “I'm sorry, it has been quite some time since I've lost rein of my emotions and it looks like I still have a ways to go before I can properly control myself around you.”

She couldn't help the soft giggles bubbling at the confusion clear in his brow. “Usually, I'm the one who has to control herself.”

“No, I don't believe that.”

She ignored his usual teasing while hopping off the counter to right herself again. His fingers brushed lightly through her hair to fix wry tufts while hers continued to focus on his blazer lapels and shirt collar. Only when she finished did she look up into his eyes while claiming his hands in hers. “I am interested but I've also rushed into things a lot in the past and they always ended horribly for everyone. I'm only just now starting to feel confident in my position and think it best-- given my track record-- to go slow.”

His head rested leisurely back to hers and she wondered how he could stand the heat emitting from her flushed face? She barely could. His smirk returned to its rightful place as his thumb ghosted over her bottom lip. Whatever he was about to say, was lost to the door handle clicking.

Mitsuhide had two paper boxes on the counter in the next instant and another occupying his hands before the door cracked open to reveal one of her subordinates. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, what perfect timing!” Mitsuhide grinned to the intruder. “We were just thinking we would need the trolley, but not with an extra set of hands.” The box in his hands shifted so suddenly the poor man at the door nearly fell backward as he tried to catch it, just for Mitsuhide to load another box on top. “You got those, I'll take these, and you can handle that last one, right Little Mouse?”

Proving he truly was a whirlwind incarnate, Mitsuhide was out the door without another glance behind him.

~~~

The premiere performance of Madama Butterfly sold out almost immediately and yet what was it he waved in front of her face one autumn Thursday morning? He even arranged her the day off to prepare for the evening. No dress? He arranged that, too; curating a selection to choose from, as well as a hair and makeup appointment if she desired it.

The show itself was as beautiful as it was heart-wrenching, even with Mitsuhide distracting her a sizable portion of the time by monopolizing her hand with soft caresses and softer kisses over every inch of skin. Afterward, he insisted on showing her the best view in the city which happened to be the rooftop of the office building.

“I didn't know all this was even up here.” She didn't even try to hide the awe in her voice as she took in her surroundings. If she didn't know any better, it would be easy to believe they were in Central Park with the colorful flower beds lining sections of expansive lawn covering a majority of the roof. A covered patio near the door sat upon a raised dais that overlooked the city with an outdoor kitchen and bar. No additional lighting was needed due to the glow provided by the surrounding city life.

“There are only a select few who do, plus the gardener who values his own secrets enough to keep mine.”

“Do I even want to know what that means?”

“Probably not.” Rumbling laughter as he looped an arm around her waist to guide her to the patio where a sake warmer awaited. If anyone had told her at the beginning of the month she would end up enjoying an exotic brew with the boss on the rooftop lounger, she would have laughed in their face! But here she was gazing over the city skyline in an elegant dress and gorgeous hair, a nearly forgotten sake glass in one hand while Mitsuhide occupied the other as he's had during the opera.

Each deliberate drag of lips across her knuckles sent heat racing through her veins that had nothing to do with the sake. Only when he was satisfied no part of her hand went untouched did he move on to continue the trail across her wrist and forearm. Molten gold irises held her own captive as the knuckles of his other hand softly traced her jaw.

"Have you had enough of the view?"

There was no mistaking the true question being asked. The weeks since their closet confessions saw many dinner and lunch dates. Weekends were designated ‘adventure’ days when they found local activities to do together, even if just strolling the shoreline or boardwalk. Almost every outing ended with at least a soft kiss on the top of her head, more than a few escalating to being pinned to the wall much as she had the counter in the stock closet. But every time he would cut it short with a clear question and an easily accessible way out for her to choose.

This time, she didn't.

~☆~

[yeenybeanies]

g/t prompt list

5. boop

matt murdock / daredevil & borrower!reader ( 3rd person pov ).

2,407 words

mild language warning

please keep comments to the tags!! thank you!! 

Matt started hearing the strange sounds a couple of days ago. He heard little rustling, pitter-pattering noises in the walls and ceilings of his apartment. At first, he’d thought it was just a mouse. That was the logical explanation. What else could it possibly be? But he quickly realized the error in that assumption when he listened a bit closer: the scurrying doesn’t sound quite right to be a mouse, nor does the quiet muttering of words. Last time Matt checked, mice do not speak. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing to find, admittedly, but it still seems unlikely. 

Whatever it is, though, it clearly can speak, which is troubling. It could compromise his security, his identity. Matt needs to catch it before it can expose him as Daredevil––assuming ( or perhaps hoping ) that it hasn’t already. 

Given its ability to speak, Matt assumes it has intelligence. It won’t fall for any sort of lure trap. Or maybe it would; maybe he’s giving it more credit than it deserves. Still, his gut tells him that it’s a bit smarter than that, especially given the things he’s heard it muttering. What kind of a rodent says something like  “ By the Gods, I’ll be sent to a top-secret facility where they’ll dissect me and take my DNA and they’ll euthanize me long before I can hope for any sort of liberation ”? It has a vocabulary and problem-solving skills that he wouldn’t expect from a simple creature. 

He’s also heard it whisper a name multiple times. Could that be its name? ( should he still consider it an it? ) 

“ [ Y/N ]? ”  he speaks plainly, lying face-up across his couch. The faint rustling, loud && clear in his ears, stops somewhere above him. Through the ceiling material, Matt can’t get a clear shape of what the creature is; he hasn’t been able to discern anything yet beyond the fact that they are small. And now they’ve stopped moving.  “ Is that . . . your name? ”  It feels foolish, speaking to a critter in the ceiling, but here he is. 

“ Where did you hear that? ”  The little thing is shouting, voice muffled through the ceiling. 

“ From you. ”  

“ How have you been––how long have you been listening? ”  

“ I first heard you about a week ago. What are you? Why are you here? ”  The creature falls silent––in that they stop talking, but Matt can still hear their movements quite clearly––and starts moving quickly along the ceiling. If he focuses hard enough, he can hear their heartbeat, small and rapid, as they scurry along. They move to the wall, and start to make their way down, looking like they’re heading for the floor. Matt sits up, a little puzzled, head angled in the creature’s direction. They stop once they reach the floor level, but the drywall still obscures their shape. 

“ How could he have heard me? What kind of super hearing does this human have? ”  Clearly they’re talking to themselves. They must not know that Matt can, in fact, still hear them. He shifts towards the edge of the couch, a little closer.  “ Shit shit shit––what am I gonna do? I just moved; there are cats upstairs, bugs downstairs––dammit. ”  

“ You, uh . . . uhm . . . ”  Matt clears his throat. It doesn’t sound like they have any nefarious, secret-identity-exposing intentions. It sounds more like they’re just trying to live.  “ You can come out. I’m . . . not going to hurt you. ”  Their little voice stops. They go silent again, save for minute shuffling. He thinks they’re going to run away at any moment, but then they do finally speak up again. 

“ That’s what every bean says. ”  Bean?  “ ‘ Oh, i’m not gonna hurt you. ’  and then you come out like an idiot and suddenly you’re trapped in a–a–a box-thing! And being carried off to Gods-know-where! ” 

“ Do you . . . speak from personal experience? ”  If so, this is actually quite concerning. Despite the being’s comic attempts to deepen their voice and sound like a human, their story resembles something from a nightmare. Matt frowns. He lowers himself quietly to the floor, onto his knees. 

“ Uh . . . no. It’s––it’s none of your business! ”  

Interestingly enough, Matt catches a flutter in the creature’s heartbeat, not unlike what he’d hear in a lying human. His brows pinch together. 

“ Look, I . . . don’t know how to, uh, reassure you. I can––I could probably help you, if you’d come out . . .. ”  

More movement. Matt tilts his head and focuses, trying to hear it better, gauge what the little being is doing. Little footsteps reach his ears. It sounds like the being is retreating, much to his disappointment and slight annoyance. They’re moving further away from him. He has half a mind to chase, but it wouldn’t do him any good––not with them in the wall like that. Not to mention, he would probably scare the hell out of them, which isn’t really something he cares to do. They seem to be under enough stress as is.

Matt is ready to let the being be, already standing up, when he hears the squeak of a screw being turned in drywall. He freezes, senses mapping the room, finding the screw in question in a power outlet cover––a loose cover, apparently. The cover is pushed aside, and a tiny––impossibly tiny–– . . . person slips out into the open. Radar senses are all over the little figure, picking up every detail they can get. The being is approximately three inches tall; they have four limbs, each ending in five digits; they’re wearing clothes; they–––they really are a very small human . . .. 

He isn’t sure what he was expecting, exactly, but this isn’t it. A talking rat actually seems a bit more likely . . .. 

“ You’re . . .–––woah. Hey. ”  The little person’s heart rate shoots right up as he takes a step, prompting Matt to freeze again. He holds up his hands in a sort of surrender.  “ It’s okay. Like I said: I’m not going to hurt you. ”  

“ You aren’t . . . looking at me. ”  

“ I’m––yeah, I–––that wouldn’t do me much good. ” 

They don’t press further, seeming to understand. A soft patter of little feet tells Matt that they’ve moved a bit closer, though they remain well outside of his reach. That’s fine. He doesn’t intend to grab them. 

“ You have really good hearing, ”  they comment. Their heart rate is going down, slowly but surely.  “ What is your name? ”  

“ Uh . . . Matt. It’s––I’m Matt. Is [ Y/N ] your name? ”  

They nod––an action he does notice––but they quickly follow up, sounding a little embarrassed, as if unused to speaking to a blind man. “ Y–yeah. That’s me. You heard right. ”  

Matt smiles a little, more to himself than to his company.  “ Well, [ Y/N ], do you mind if I sit down? ”  

“ Go for it . . .. ”  It sounds more like a question, indicative of [ Y/N ]’s confusion. It is a weird question to ask. Who asks for permission to sit in his own house? But Matt is more thinking that he doesn’t want to give the little one reason to bolt. And they don’t. They stay right where they are ( heart rate rising ) as he lowers himself back onto the couch. 

An interesting conversation ensues. Matt has plenty of questions, and, as it turns out, the little one––borrower, as they call themselves––has some of their own. Matt learns that, while [ Y/N ] has seen him return at night in his uniform, they don’t really know who he’s supposed to be or what it’s for. It’s probably best they remain in the dark. As they talk, too, Matt notices that the borrower comes a little closer every few minutes. They seem to be just as curious about him as he is about them. He guesses he’s the first blind  " bean ”  they’ve encountered. He also seems to be the first one that hasn’t actively tried to catch and/or kill them. It’s a little upsetting to think about. 

“ Can I . . . feel you? ”  It’s another odd question. Even for him, it’s a strange one, but he’s still questioning himself on whether or not this encounter is real. The borrower stiffens, immediately nervous once more. Matt feels the awkward tension rise up. 

“ Uh . . . what do you, uh––why? ” 

Right. That’s answer enough. Matt leans back a little, as if to give [ Y/N ] some more space. Some guilt creeps into his conscience for even asking, considering how the borrower’s reacted to him thus far. While they’ve been amicable, he’s not oblivious to their constant, underlying fear. 

“ Never mind. Sorry––forget I asked. ”  Stupid. He mentally berates himself, but another sound reaches his ears, cutting him off. He frowns, head jerking sharply towards the door ( which startles the borrower; he’ll have to remember to keep his movements slower and smoother in the future ). 

“ Someone’s coming. You should probably––– ” 

But they’re already gone. Matt hears the rapid pitter-patter of little feet on the floors, and the following scrape against the wall as the outlet cover is moved aside. For a brief moment, his focus remains on [ Y/N ] as they move through the walls, but the knock at the door pulls him back to the situation at hand. It seems that Foggy is here. 

“ Matt. ”  The voice reaches him, but Matt doesn’t wake just yet. 

Foggy came over, and the two of them had conversation over a couple of beers. Some of it was business, and some of it wasn’t––a good mix of the two, really. Matt lost focus on [ Y/N ] shortly after they vanished into the wall, and hadn’t found them again after Foggy eventually left. Figuring they’d gone to sleep, as the hour was pretty late, he opted to do the same, and retired to his room for the night. 

Then he started to experience things. His nightmares are always so intimate, an assault on the senses. So many voices ( screams ), sensations, so much chaos–––

“ Matt! ”  There’s a tap to his nose that finally wakes the man. He breathes out sharply, wrenched from his bad dream. Sightless eyes blink in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling as he works to ground himself and get his breathing under control. It takes a couple of seconds for him to realize he isn’t alone. There’s a buzzing heartbeat within a small, warm little body just to the left of his head. 

“ [ Y/N ]? ”  While he isn’t super familiar with their specific heartbeat yet, Matt does recognize the little squeaks and yelps they make when startled. Those are unmistakable. He pushes against his mattress and moves himself a few inches to the right, giving himself and the borrower some room so he can safely sit himself up, elbow propped under his body for support. The way the mattress deforms under him jostles [ Y/N ], but they maintain their footing.

“ Are you okay? ” 

“ I–I think I, uh––I should be asking you that! You were yelling in your sleep! ”  There’s a quiver in their voice. They’re nervous––terrified, even. They’re much closer to Matt now than they were willing to get before. Hell––they touched him, flicked him hard enough on the nose to wake him up. 

“ I . . . was I? Sorry . . . ”  He must have woken them up, then. Matt sighs and drags a hand down his face, still exhausted, but awake for the time being. He can feel the borrower staring at him.  “ I’m okay. Just a bad dream. ”  

They don’t seem too convinced, but they take a step back regardless, likely ready to make their runaway. That doesn’t happen, though; when Matt pushes himself up further, their surprised yelp hits the air, and he feels a little weight fall onto the back of his hand. Immediately he freezes, not daring to move, lest he frighten [ Y/N ] further. It seems they have a similar idea, though perhaps their freeze is more fear-induced than anything else. 

“ . . . You can get up. I won’t move. ”  And they do get up after another moment, scurrying off of his hand ( with a little assistance ). He offers a soft apology. Much to his surprise, though, they don’t go very far. Already that hummingbird heartbeat is starting to slow. Once more, they’re silent, staring at him. Things are a bit awkward. Matt clears his throat. 

“ I’m, uh––I’m gonna go get some water from the kitchen. Do you . . . want anything? Or would you like to join me . . .? ”  

They don’t answer. Matt takes it as a no. He resumes getting up, off the bed, much slower this time. 

“ I could . . . use a snack, ”  comes the tiny voice, making Matt pause again. He glances back over his shoulder, senses picking up on [ Y/N ]’s minuscule form. Being their size, he imagines they must need to eat fairly often. 

“ Want me to carry you? ”  It’s just a suggestion. It’d be faster, more efficient, but Matt won’t push. 

“ I can manage. ”  Fair enough. The borrower approaches the bed’s edge and climbs down the sheets and covers, down to the floor, where Matt can hear their footsteps. He starts walking towards the kitchen, pace slowed a little, but still quick enough to keep well ahead of [ Y/N ]. Though the chances of him stepping on them are slim to none, it’s still a precaution he takes. 

Now, he’s sure he’s got some cereal in one of the cabinets that he thinks his new companion would like . . . 

[welllpthisishappening]

For the Hits

Ok, ok, so last week, the Rangers posted this video where everyone (read: Chris Kreider) mercilessly mocked Pavel Buchnevich for collecting magnets. It’s hysterical. Watch it. This, of course, led me to start thinking and then @optomisticgirl​ was like...what if this were a Blue Line thing and I was, like, that’s what I was thinking. So, something about great minds or whatever. Anyway, here’s 3.4K of the Rangers first line making fun of Will Scarlet for collecting keychains. Especially Killian, because like:

Also, this gets like...real fluffy, so fair warning. Timeline wise this is the season after Killian was "supposed" to retire, so Robin is already working for MSG Networks and Chris very much hasn't been born yet. 

“Hold on, hold on, hold on, go back one more time.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but did as instructed – implored, really, the laughter clinging to Phillip’s voice and she was fairly positive there were unshed tears in his eyes. Her gaze flitted towards Killian, his own smile tugging at the corners of the mouth.

“There’s no harm in watching it one more time, love,” he muttered. “Just to make sure it’s as funny as we all think it is.”

Will groaned, slumping dramatically onto the bar and Phillip’s tears, finally, landed on his face. “It’s definitely that funny,” Phillip said, nodding emphatically while he tried to tug Emma’s phone out of her hand.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled. “How old are you?”

“I really want to watch it again.”

Will groaned again. He must have been going for a record. And, honestly, Emma felt bad, but it was absurd and definitely as funny as advertised and she and Ruby watched the video at least a dozen times in her office earlier that afternoon.

“How old is Peg?” Will quipped. “Subtract seventy-thousand years and that’s how old Rook is. At least.”

“Seventy-thousand,” Emma echoed. “That’s the number you want to stick with, huh?”

“You going to be mean about this too?”

“Am I being mean?”

“A little.”

Emma shrugged, lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. It wasn’t easy. The video was ridiculous. She hadn’t checked the metrics. but she assumed the click numbers were through some kind of metaphorical roof.

Maybe a physical roof.

“Although, not as mean as your husband.”

“Ah, that’s not true at all,” Killian objected.

Will shook his head. “Rude, Cap. Straight up. Just…a giant ass.”

“A giant ass.”

“You’re really not thinking about what words you’re using before you use ‘em, huh?” Phillip asked, holding up both hands in mock surrender when Will glared at him. “Aw, c’mon, if you didn’t want to be mercilessly mocked, you shouldn’t have told Lucas.”

Killian hummed in agreement, leaning back to grab the plate of food Eric dropped on the few inches of counter Will wasn’t draped over. “A texted me the video,” Eric said. “Cap was definitely being a jerk.”

“It caught me off guard,” Killian reasoned. HIs arm moved around Emma’s waist, seemingly out of instinct, hooking his chin over her shoulder while he tried to nudge the toe of his shoe into Will’s ankle.

it didn’t really work.

“I mean, who does that?” he continued. “Honestly? It’s kind of weird, right?”

Eric clicked his tongue. “It’s a little weird. A agreed with that too. Although she also said Rook brought up a reasonable question.”

“That is fundamentally untrue, Rook has never brought up a reasonable question in his life,” Will cried, not bothering to lift his head off his forearms. “Give me something to drink. Do your job.”

“Ok, ok,” Phillip said. “Play the video again, Em.”

Her eyes were going to get stuck mid-roll, but Emma tapped her thumb on the phone screen, dropping it a few inches away from Will’s right elbow.

“Which one of your teammates collects keychains?”

She hadn’t actually needed to see the video to know it was Killian’s immediate laugh that afternoon. There was probably something inherently romantic about that. It was less romantic, presumably, when it also involved making fun of Will Scarlet’s penchant for collecting keychains.

“See,” Will moaned. “Cap’s being a jerk from the get.”

“Wait, wait, keychains? Did you say keychains? What kind of keychains? Are you sure you actually heard that right?”

There was a pan to Phillip after Killian’s initial reaction, a look Emma had all but memorized at that point. She and Ruby had watched the video so many times. They’d called Mary Margaret to watch it together.

Mary Margaret had laughed.

A lot.

“Keychains?” Phillip balked. “I don’t…keychains? What’s the reason behind that?”

“Jerks,” Will shouted again. He nearly knocked his drink over when he blindly reached out, trying to wrap his fingers around a glass he couldn’t see because he refused to lift his head up.

“Oh my God,” Emma muttered, sliding the glass closer to his fingertips.

“Is this actually alcohol?”

“Middle of the season.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Drink your water, Scarlet,” Killian said.

His answering salute was only a little absurd. “Yes, Dad.”

“Ok, ok, so keychains, right?” Killian asked again, and this was the part of the video where he started talking to people off-camera. “Where is he getting them from? Between games?”

“It’s got to be between games, right?” Phillip pressed. “Oh, oh, maybe before skate? Is Scarlet sneaking out before skate on game day?”

“Are you?” Emma asked, and Will flipped his head to the side. So he could stick his tongue out at her. “Ok, look who’s being a child now.”

“And that’s actually not an answer,” Killian pointed out. She didn’t have to turn around to know he was smiling then either. There was probably some stupid eyebrow thing involved too.

He kissed her cheek.

“You guys are both bullies,” Will sighed. “Honestly, see if I set Cap up on the power play again this season and then what’ll you do?”

“Score several other ways?”

“Yeah, but it won’t be as impressive and your kids are really into the power play stuff. So, you know…”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s a real big threat.”

Will added sound to the expression he was making, a groan and a gag and it probably hurt his throat. It kind of timed up with the laughter still coming from Emma’s phone.

“So, no one can tell me how this actually started?” Killian asked, talking to more people off-camera and he was half out of his chair. “Where is he keeping all of them? Does he have some kind of keychain stash somewhere?”

“I’m not sneaking out of morning skate,” Will said. “You’ve seen me at morning skate. Every day. For years.”

Phillip was shaking his head before Will even finished. “Not every day. You blew off that one a couple years ago.”

“Why do you remember that?”

“You’re very noisy when you’re sneaking out of hotel rooms.”

Killian’s whole body shook when he laughed lightly, another quick kiss pressed to whatever bit of Emma he seemed able to find. That one landed on the side of her neck. “He’s got logs of every time you did something wrong for moments just like this.”

“Ok, well, that makes me sound like a creep, Cap,” Phillip hissed. “And, you know, it’s not every time. Just…certain times.”

Will blinked. “How many times do you think I’ve done something wrong on the road?”

“You want, like, an itemized list or…”

Will flipped him off.

“What exactly was this time though?” Emma asked, curiosity getting the better of her and Ruby would be disappointed she missed this.

“Once, when we were in Carolina—“ Phillip cut himself off, squeezing one eye closed and Emma had to bite the inside of her lip when Killian muttered wait to see when the steam starts pouring out of his ears against her hair. “Yeah, yeah, I heard that Cap. I’m trying to ensure accuracy in my story.”

“First time for everything,” Will growled.

They were, apparently, just going to flip each other off now.

“Ok, ok, it must have been two years ago? It was after Cap got hurt, but not that actual season.”

“God, Rook, let’s talk about some more touchy subjects, huh? Em was already freaked out enough about that one hit Cap took the other day.”

Emma felt the flush rise in her cheek – but she wasn’t sure if it was because Will was frustratingly correct or Killian was kissing just behind her ear now and it might have been some weird, strange combination of both.

“It’s fine, Swan,” Killian said softly, and they’d moved into important territory rather quickly. She didn’t get worried anymore.

That was a great, big lie.

She wanted to focus on Will’s weird keychain collection.

“When did Scarlet sneak out the hotel room?” Emma asked, voice going sharp and Will’s gaze turned knowing far too quickly to be entirely comfortable.

“If it’s actually two seasons ago, then it’s that one time when Matt—“

“—Oh, shit, I know when it is,” Killian muttered. So did Emma. Phillip muttered a string of curses under his breath.

“Yeah, got you now, don’t I? You all feel like jerks?”

It was the season after Killian got hurt – a string of road games and Matt had been five, determined on the ice and even more determined off it, practicing moves in the hallway of their apartment when his feet got tangled up and his stick, somehow, got between his legs and he’d fallen through the wall.

Straight through. Head first. On a Saturday morning, waking up well before Emma had even considered getting out of bed.

Killian had been furious about the shoddy craftsmanship of their drywall.

David drove them to the hospital in a cop car. She had to tell him not to use the lights. He’d wanted to. So had Killian. And Will. And Robin.

Who had all appeared on the FaceTime call, each of them sporting matching looks of worry and terror and concern over concussions at such a young age.

“Well, now I look like a dick,” Phillip shrugged, reaching behind the bar to grab a glass and Eric didn’t try to stop him.

He knew better than that.

“You do,” Will agreed. “Ok, Em, tell me something, on a scale of one to forty-seven thousand, how mean and enthusiastic were you and Lucas about the hits this video was going to drive?”

“I’m not trying to be mean, Scarlet,” Emma promised, but that only earned her another dramatic sigh and even more slumped shoulders and she heard the laughter coming into the restaurant before she even heard the door swing open. “Incoming,” she warned. “And he’s going to have to talk about it on TV.”

Will cursed.

“Hey,” Killian snapped. He didn’t get out any further reprimand though, far too preoccupied with the kids slamming into his leg and the shouts pressed into his side and Robin appeared to be cackling.

Will cursed again.

“Cap’s going to ground you,” Phillip laughed. “What were your thoughts, Locksley?”

Robin’s laugh only got louder, flanked by Roland and the sounds of the video playing from the phone in his hand. “I genuinely have too many thoughts about it,” Robin grinned. “They had to cut me off in the studio. I could wax poetic about this for years. Eons.”

“Eons are the same as years,” Will said.

Killian shook his head. “Eons is way more impressive. Eons, though, honestly?”

“Oh, yeah,” Robin nodded. “At least. Maybe a few eternities too. You think eternities are longer than eons?”

“Beats me. Ask your kid in college.”

“He’s got to ask Henry because he didn’t graduate college,” Will pointed out. “And, honestly, poetic, Locksley? That’s an exaggeration, don’t you think? You even know how poems work?”

Robin tilted his head. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“You know how a haiku works?”

“Figure of speech.”

“What about a sonnet? You know a lot of Shakespearean sonnets?”

“Eric, can I get some food?” Robin asked, pointedly ignoring Will and whatever hand gesture he was making. Killian kicked at his ankle again. “There are very hungry kids out here who may have the video memorized at this point.”

Matt was jumping up and down, tugging on whatever shirt he could get his fingers around. He didn’t appear all that partial to Killian’s either, moving on to Phillip and back to Robin and it only took a few seconds for Roland to wrap his free arm around the front of Matt’s shoulders.

Peggy was already trying to climb between Killian and Will.

Emma started the video again.

“Relax,” Roland said lightly, tightening his hold on Matt. “Hey, Uncle Will, how come none of us knew about this keychain thing?”

Will grumbled something that sounded a lot like oh my God as Robin dropped onto the nearest stool. There were more footsteps, heels and sneakers and laughter in equal measure, Ruby moving into the restaurant with a whirlwind of announcements and— “The numbers are ridiculous, people may make shirts. There are memes.”

“There are memes?” Robin repeated, voice rising on every letter. “Oh, I’ll have to tell Henry.”

Will nearly knocked the stool over when he jumped up, downing the rest of what was very clearly water in several gulps. “Do not tell Henry about this.”

“Does Belle know that you hoard keychains?”

“There is no hoarding!”

“No?” Killian asked. “Where are they, then? Where are you hiding the keychains, Scarlet?”

“This is not as dark as you’re making it, Cap.”

“Who’s making it dark?”

“You,” Will yelled, thrusting his whole hand forward and he had to twist to make sure he didn’t inadvertently stab Emma in the ribs. “Obviously.”

“That might actually be Rook, honestly. He brought up the concussions and rap sheet.”

“Ok, it’s not a rap sheet,” Phillip argued, but Emma knew Killian was still smiling and Will clicked his tongue in frustration.

“How long have you been doing this, though?” Roland asked, and it was probably wrong to be proud of a teenager for asking the pertinent questions. Ruby looked like she was close to bursting though, smile wide and something about proper media training very likely sitting on the tip of her tongue.

“The smartest kid in the room,” she announced. He wiped off the her kiss as soon as she moved away from his hair. “Although not totally relevant to the video. It’s about the content and how much of a jerk Cap and Rook—“

“—No one was being a jerk,” Killian yelled, only to be met with several variations of ehhh and Will shaking his head so quickly Emma was almost worried it was going to fly off his neck.

“You were kind of being a jerk, but, you know, a funny jerk. There may be signs at the next game.”

“Honestly?”

Ruby nodded solemnly. “Ridiculous hits.”

Will exhaled, as much drama as he could seemingly put into the sound, reaching his arms out with every single one of his fingers wiggling and Emma, somehow, got a mouthful of Peggy’s hair as she moved from one set of shoulders to another. “You get me right, Pegs? You’re not going to be a jerk about the keychain thing?”

“Maybe we don’t call the three-year-old a jerk, huh?” Killian muttered.

Peggy squirmed against Will, more hair shifting in a variety of faces and a well-placed foot landing in a few internal organs. “Almost four, Daddy,” she yelled. Directly into Will’s ear.

He grimaced, but there was a bit of a smile and Emma must have put the video on loop at some point without realizing it, glancing down when she heard the last few moments for, quite possibly, the millionth time. And part of her wanted to ask more questions, but part of her couldn’t get over keychain collections and she was absolutely, one-million percent positive they were missing a very good story.

If only because Will said so at the end of the video.

“Trust me,” he grinned at the camera, a quick quirk of eyebrows and a twist of his lips. “It’s a pretty good reason.”

It took a few years to figure it out.

They were moving out of the apartment, a career over, for real this time, with boxes packed and far more jerseys than Emma realized they owned folded in even more boxes and she thought she was imaging it at first.

“Killian!”

He didn’t quite run, although it was close and if she weren’t so exhausted from trying to move downtown with three kids, one of whom was a very noisy and impatient infant, she probably would have made fun of him for that. As it was, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Peggy’s room with a shoebox in her hands that was close to overflowing.

“Swan, what—oh, damn, we totally look like jerks now, don’t we?”

Emma let out a watery laugh, fingers reaching out like she was touching precious jewels or gold or anything except the keychains they were. She pulled a handful out – all of them from NHL cities and not NHL cities and there might have been one in the shape of a flamingo.

There weren’t any repeats.

“How many are there?” Killian asked, voice dropping when he sank next to Emma.

“There’s got to be a hundred here. At least.”

“God, what an idiot.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely the sentiment we should be going with. You think he was doing this the whole time? Giving them to Pegs?”

Killian made a noise in the back of his throat, a mix of confusion and something that might have been overwhelming emotion and a whole team that wasn’t really that. Even after it was all over.

It might not ever really be over.

That sounded kind of menacing, though.

“Pegs,” Killian called, not taking his eyes away from the box. “Margaret!”

Emma scoffed. “Now you’ve done it.”

It took six seconds, flat, for the feet to skid to a stop behind them, not quite out of breath, but a little worried because real names were only used for real things and—“Oh,” Peggy whispered. “It’s the treasure.”

Killian’s eyes flitted towards Emma, but she could only shrug in response, lips curling up into a smile. “What do you mean, babe?” she asked.

Peggy scrunched her nose, bobbing on the balls of her feet. “Me and Uncle Will do it.”

“Yeah? How long?”

“Seasons.”

“Seasons,” Killian echoed. “More than one?”

“Yeah.”

“How many seasons?” Peggy shrugged, making a face that wasn’t much more than a twist of her mouth and incredibly wide eyes. “Margaret,” Killian continued, and her whole body sagged when she sighed. “Has it been a long time?”

It took, exactly, sixteen seconds for that response.

“Yeah,” she wavered. “Since…I don’t know, maybe when MD got hurt? Uncle Will and Aunt Belle used to keep them in their apartment then, though.”

Emma blinked. Again. And again. “With the wall thing?” Peggy nodded, and Killian’s laugh wasn’t so much relief as it was disbelief and complete belief. “Man, Cap,” Emma mumbled. “We really do look like jerks, don’t we?”

He hummed, a quick brush of his lips to her temple as he crooked his finger towards Peggy. “C’mere, little love, you’re not in trouble.”

Peggy didn’t look convinced, rocking back and forth on her feet until Killian pushed up, hauling her up his side and ignoring Emma’s objections. “It’s fine, love. Pegs,” he added, switching back to names when the endearments started getting to similar. “Did Uncle Will start buying you keychains because everyone was worried about Matt?”

Twenty-six seconds for that one.

“Yeah,” Peggy mumbled, burying her head in the crook of Killian’s neck. “And I got him ones.”

Emma didn’t expect that. She didn’t expect to find a trove of keychains under her daughter’s bed, but she definitely didn’t expect that too.

“Wait, what?” Killian asked sharply, a quick apology when he realized the way it sounded. “Where are you—you’re seven. How are you buying keychains?”

“Aunt Anna helps. And Red.”

“Do they?” Peggy nodded, wrapping her arms tighter around Killian. “Huh.”

“Articulate, Jones,” Emma grinned. She reached up to brush Peggy’s hair away from her face, getting a slightly teary-eyed look in response and Emma had to press up on her toes to kiss her daughter’s cheek. “So you and Uncle Will both have a treasure, huh? Is your bigger?”

“Way.”

“Of course it is.”

“Well, Swan,” Killian started, hitching Peggy further up. He groaned when the ends of her hair flew into his left eye. “We should display the treasure, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely.”

And Emma wasn’t really pleased when she heard Will’s breath catch, not even a week later, as soon as he jogged up the stairs and skidded to a stop in Peggy’s open door, mouth dropping when he saw it, mostly because she was kind of thrilled and the keychains, every single one that had been in more than one box, were hanging from hooks on the wall.

“Oh,” Will breathed, a quiet chuckle. “Well, that’s stupid.”

Emma nodded – only making the phone in her hand shake slightly. “Yeah, it is. You want to watch the video on loop? You do this stupid thing with your face at one point when you realize what’s going on.”

He eyed her, years of this and banter and it was kind of comforting to know that a one-man Emma Swan protection squad extended to her kids. Without question. “Yeah,” he said. “Make sure you show Rook though, ok?”

“Deal.”

[damnit-samnit]

Chapter 24 Preview

Hola! Here’s a preview for chapter 24. I’m still working on the last bit of the chapter and expanding some areas. Hopefully I’ll have it done by tomorrow (or maybe even tonight but remember, take what I say with a grain of salt, I’m an optimist but my optimism often makes me a liar).

Also, it looks like I lost my italicized formatting pasting it over and I don’t feel like fixing it because I’m writing lmao so I apologize for that 

- - -

“You know, I thought you would eventually move to Tokyo…” A squealing sound rang out as packaging tape was pulled off of its roll. “Come be around everyone else. Musutafu’s closer but…”

You looked up from the dishes you had been carefully stacking and wrapping in towels.

“Exactly -- Musutafu is a bit closer to Tokyo,” you said, catching Yume’s eye as she reached for a marker. “I’m excited. It’ll be nice to get out of Kamino. New job. New city. A clean slate.”

“You had a new job and Tokyo could have been a new city--”

“This will be good for me,” you continued airily, once again interjecting before she could work herself into another tangent deriding your judgment. You’d been working on dodging them all day. “You’ll see. My gut is telling me this is the right decision.”

Catching on that you were purposely cutting her off, Yume grumbled under her breath and you did your best to ignore it, assuming she was still a bit bitter over your departure from your relatively short stint at Odaiba Research.

When you had finally broken down and given her the news a handful of days back, that you had decided to leave your position, she reacted pretty much how you expected -- angrily. Disappointedly. It was obvious the feelings she had weren’t derived from someplace dark or hurtful, she just thought you were making a dumb decision.

Maybe you were.

But ultimately it was your decision to make.

She had spent a good portion of your dinner that night trying to reason with you, to goad you into reconsidering: How could you leave Odaiba!? Working there was a dream for many a scientist. To be given such an amazing opportunity and just toss aside so easily…

Not only that, Yume had gone to bat for you -- she talked you up, talked your skillset up. How would your departure reflect on her?

Eventually, you revealed your ‘good’ news -- that you had already accepted a position elsewhere and had already given notice to Doctor Kravitz and the team that you were leaving as soon as possible.

It was done.

You were just telling her as a courtesy.

For about of week after that less-than-friendly dinner, you ignored one another other, each stewing over the actions of the other. You were far too impulsive. She was far too close-minded.

Yume broke first, though, texting you.

Then, she took you out for ice cream.

Moving, however, hadn’t been a thought-out decision. You received notice that the lease for your lab space was coming up for renewal, with a slight increase in the rent price. It had been months since you had been there, having lost all desire to invent and having no commissions to work on.

It was the idealist in you that ultimately convinced you to, finally, give up your lab. Nothing was quite the same after your almost-brush with death over a… disagreement regarding the quality of your work. Although you always knew death and/or injury was a possibility while working with villains, it wasn’t until you were actually burned that it clicked in your mind that yes, you could actually die. It was a very real peril. Your, ‘come on, what are the odds?’ reasoning could no longer be used as the odds were, apparently, pretty good.

Luck had gotten you out of that situation with your life and that ace in the hole could no longer be played.

It was a long time coming, anyway, you had reasoned. The past several months had been alluding to the fact. You had turned down commissions, you no longer felt any desire to cash in on under the table money.

You wanted a normal life void of any secrets or skeletons.

It was funny how appealing being another cog in the machine had suddenly become.

Quite suddenly after reaching the decision of shutting down shop, that same vein of thought also goaded you into moving altogether. Don’t just close the lab -- break the lease on your apartment early. Get out of Kamino. Start over. You would lose your deposit and have to pay a fee, sure, but you would also be free.

After Power Loader promised that, yes, you still had a job and he wasn’t going renegade on the offer, you found a nice little rental house in Musutafu in a neighborhood geared toward families. All things considered, you were making more money at Power Loader’s lab as you had only been an apprentice at Odaiba (though, had you been brought on fulltime as was always teased, you would have made bank… and you didn’t quite want to think about that).

It seemed like a good, responsible decision.

You didn’t have a lot of time -- once you signed the lease on your new humble abode, and you broke the lease on your Kamino apartment, you only had two weeks to pack up years worth of junk and move, which made you regret your decisions immensely as moving was the absolute worst.

Then, entirely all too soon, two weeks was up.

You had been working down to the wire -- the last day you were allowed in your apartment was the day the movers showed up to lug all your boxes and furniture away. Before you went to go hand your keys over to the building manager for good, you stood in the living room surveying the skeletal remains of your home.

The apartment in all its mediocrity -- blemishes to the drywall, the bubbling paint along the creases of the ceiling, the creaky doors, the drafty windows -- was your home. Half-hearted fantasies about moving somewhere nicer had come true but you hadn’t been prepared for the strange lament that had settled in your heart during your goodbye.

It was an apartment.

You ignored the whispers of recollections moving around the empty room. Of scarfing down take-out on the floor with Yume when you first moved in and had almost no furniture. Of burning curtains and scorch marks on the floor thanks to misfired inventions prior to signing for your lab space. Of sleepovers and illnesses and late-night visitors and movie nights and broken furntiure and broken doors and--

It was the comforting presence of your apartment that you were sad to see go. You were a hermit crab exchanging a shell -- leaving felt weird only because you weren’t used to the new place. But you would be. It’ll be just as much of a home.

You sighed when the door clicked behind you for the last time, staring at the front door.

It felt like the end of an era.

You were moving into your silver age.

- - -

“So… last time we talked you had just moved into your new apartment. Tell me about that, how do you like it so far?”

You shifted slightly on the couch so you could sit on your hands, eyes flickering between your knees and the large-eyed man in front of you.

“It’s good,” you said with an uncomfortable grin, trying to convince yourself to not be so… closed up. It was what, your third session with your shrink? You had decided to sign up for therapy by your own volition, you had been the one to schedule the sessions, so why were you so… guarded when it came to talking with him? You were basically throwing money away if you weren’t going to use the time.

“You’ve got to give me a little more than just good,” he said, knowing eyes peering from behind even-larger glasses.

“It’s nice,” you tried again. “Leagues better than my old apartment but it’s still a little drafty. One of my neighbors has a little boy and he told me the other day that my house is haunted.”

“Oh!” Your therapist’s eyes crinkled with humor while you rolled yours.

“Wasn’t thrilled about that conversation.”

“But otherwise, your neighbors, you get along with them?”

“More or less. I live on the corner and I’ve only said hello to the family next to me in passing. There’s a pretty big fence separating our houses.”

“And the job is treating you well?” At that question, you cracked an actual smile. “Well, that’s a good reaction. Your whole aura completely changed.” He sat back, glancing up to the ceiling, rubbing his tongue across the roof of his mouth. “Tastes… like apple juice? Reassuring. So you’re comfortable there?”

“I think so,” you said, the smile still there. “It’s only been, what, a month? But I really like it there. It’s very… calm.”

“Calm?”

“Calm.”

“And you like the calm?”

“I think I do, yeah.”

“You think you do?”

“Well…” you shifted your jaw. “I don’t think I’m good under pressure. I used to think I was but… I don’t think I am. But I kept throwing myself into situations and jobs where there was a lot of pressure on my shoulders. This is a good change of pace.”

“I like what you just said there,” your shrink said, wagging a finger at you. “That bit of self-reflection at the end. Expand on that.”

You chuckled awkwardly, freeing a hand to rub at your knee.

“Sour. Tart,” the therapist observed, frowning, tongue clicking. “Lemons. Why the change? What makes you uncomfortable? The subject or talking about yourself?”

“A little bit of both. I guess I’m a little disappointed in myself for giving up and… accepting defeat?”

“Defeat?” He shook his head. “Don’t think of this as a win and lose situation. Life’s not a fight. Instead, look at it as playing on your strengths and weaknesses. You weren’t happy but now you are.”

“For now--” you ventured to say, earning a snort of disgust from the man sitting across from you.

“Don’t assume everything is fleeting. Accept and appreciate now. You’re happy now. You live in a house in a nice neighborhood.” He raised his thumb. “You have a job that mentally stimulates you and brings you joy.” He raised his pointer finger. “You’re in a good headspace -- your aura was bright when you walked in. Nothing was bogging you down.” His middle finger joined the others. “Name something else that’s been giving you joy?”

“My friends threw me a house warming party last weekend?”

“Friends are taking time to celebrate your achievements,” he said with a nod, lifting another finger in the air. “You know what, let’s go for five. Give me one more positive. Did you start up your kung fu lessons again?”

“Kung fu?” You blinked. “Oh, Krav Maga. No… uh, not yet.”

He frowned at you -- last session, you had admitted to your short ‘personal betterment’ stint with Krav Maga lessons after a situation with a villain. When you refused to elaborate on the villain portion of your story (you weren’t about to cop to any… misdeeds you may have done in the past), he instead started pushing you on why you had dropped Krav Maga -- why did you eventually just stop? Why don’t you start up again?

He was adamant you develop some sort of hobby.

“I started knitting again?” you offered a half-truth. You had purchased yarn online the day prior but hadn’t made anything. In fact, your knitting supplies were still packed away in one of the boxes you had yet to go through.

The large-eyed man openly smacked his lips, unamused.

“Overripe,” he said.

You sighed.

“Okay -- I’m going to. I bought yarn, I just have to unpack it.”

“I’d prefer if you did something physical though,” he grumbled. “Yoga? Running? Tai Chi? Something to get you moving. It’s not just about taking care of the mind, the body is just as important too. And exercise will help balance your mind.”

You drew your mouth into a tight line.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine.”

“I’m gonna ask about it next session. Now, give me one more positive…”

“One more…” You really had to think, which your therapist noted. “One more…”

Nothing came to you. When it became clear you were tapped out of ideas, he jotted something down.

“Fine, I’ll accept four today. But next time we meet, I want you to come with five positives of the week ready to go, alright?”

“Alright.”

He regarded the topmost section of the notebook, where notes from your last meeting were written neatly.

Metal. Salted Earth.

A taste that sometimes lingered in the back of his throat during the answers and stories you shared with him. It had exploded across his tongue when you had danced around the specifics of your villain altercation but otherwise, it had been muted.

He wanted to know what it meant.

But, he decided not to ask about what, or who, the taste represented. Your relationship was not as… forthright as it would probably need to be. You weren’t comfortable enough with him yet.

“Okay,” he said, breathing in deeply through his nose, tapping his pencil on his knee. “Why don’t we talk about something outside of work. What have you done in Mustafa is new to you -- have you explored the city?”

“Well…” You scratched at your nose. “My boss took me and his… assistant out to dinner the other day. That was a hoot.”

“Bubblegum!” Your therapist said, lighting up. “You had a good time! Tell me a little about that!

- - -

The train ride home wasn’t crowded. At your station, you swung into a nearby corner store to pick up a couple bananas -- you were craving them now thanks to your therapist’s ‘overripe’ comment.

Banana bread would be divine right now.

The store didn’t have any bananas or bananas bread, so you grabbed a couple of banana milk, hoping it would be enough to sate you.

It was… nice how unhurried and relaxed you felt as you walked home that afternoon. It was your day off and there was no dread hanging over you about missed calls and avalanching emails. The lingering anxiety in your gut had abated a few weeks back -- you felt lighter.

The little neighbor boy who told you that your house was haunted was out on the street when you rounded the corner, sliding a red car back and forth against the asphalt in front of your house. He stopped his playing as your approached, standing up.

“Hello miss,” he greeted solemnly.

“Hello, little Sato,” you said, stopping and giving him the same respectful greeting. “I like your car.”

“Thank you, my baa-baa gave it to me.”

You nodded, giving the boy a brief smile before turning toward your house, prepared to leave him to his playing.

“You had visitors come to your door but you weren’t home,” Sato said, following you. You quirked a brow at him.

“Hm? Really?”

Visitors? Was it people from the rental company?

“Policemen!”

You stopped turning the key in the lock of your front door.

You glanced back down at the boy.

“Policemen?” you repeated and Sato’s face lit up -- he eagerly nodded his head.

“I told them you weren’t home. Well, first they asked me if I knew your name and I told them I did. Then I told them you weren’t home. And then my dad came out and they asked him about you too!”

“Your dad…” You swallowed, heart squeezing. “They asked your dad some questions?” You forced a smile. “DId you happen to hear… what kind of questions?”

“They asked if you made things and my dad said you worked with the hero Power Loader!” For added effect, he punched the air beside him, body twisting and following after his arm.

“Did they ask him anything else?”

Sato stopped his full-body punching, choosing to purse his lips as he stared up at you. You stared back, unease traveling across your body.

Come on, think kid.

“When you moved in,” he said, squinting his eyes. “My dad said you were nice. I told them about the ghost, in case they were here for that. Oh! If you have a lot of visitors. If it seems like you invent in your house. Dad said he didn’t think so.”

Shit.

Shit.

“Sato!”

A female voice drifted from up the street and the boy’s head whipped in the direction of his house.

“Sorry miss, I gotta go get my lunch.”

“No, no, no, it’s fine Sato.” You waved the boy off. He walked a few steps before stopping and grinning. “Oh, they also said they’re coming back, miss. So don’t worry!”

Only when you were safely inside your entryway did you allow yourself to openly panic.

You knew their visit had to be related to your under-the-table work. Someone must have been arrested and blabbed about where they had gotten their gear. And the police had found you! Though, it’s not like you were living off the grid -- you probably weren’t hard to track down.

Shit.

What were you going to do?

You dropped your plastic bag of banana milk on your kitchen counter, pacing around the room, hands combing through your hair.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

You were going to go to jail.

Undoubtedly, you were going to lose your license.

You had just moved. You had a new job. You were going to lose all of that.

You were fucked. You were royally fucked.

Who could it have been, though? Who could have been arrested? You pulled out your phone, staring at the darkened screen as your jittery brain tried to piece together cohesive thoughts. Your fingers were shaking.

If you knew who it was, who had gotten arrested, you could work on an alibi. At the very least drum up a reason why you didn’t know them.

But no familiar names came up on the hero news sites. Could it have been someone small time?

Eventually, you paced your way out to your living room.

Fate had marked you. If villains weren’t going to get you, the law was going to get you.

And you were trying to be good!

Desperately, you were trying!

That wasn’t going to matter though. You needed… a lawyer, right? In crime TV shows, bad guys always want their lawyer present and requesting one usually stumped the police. Okay, a lawyer. What kind of lawyer? What were the charges you were facing?

In your panic, a naive idea came to mind.

You knew someone who could help.

With the weight of the world back on your shoulders, shamelessly you found his number and called him.

He could help you out of this. You knew he could.