#Eventually he lost his mind wandering the halls with lost opportunities and chances surrounding him

[randomfandomsgobrrrrrr]

Is it really brainrot if you haven't had a dream where you were a character in the show

[beelsnack]

Obey Me! Boys and the Cute Date They Would Take MC On

Lucifer: “I feel like I don’t belong here.”

When Lucifer had mentioned that an orchestra was going to be performing, they had been so excited to go that they nearly vibrated out of existence. But now that they were here, that excitement had morphed into a heavy lump of anxiety hanging out somewhere between their heart and stomach.

Lucifer glanced down at the human with a raised eyebrow. “And what in the Three Realms would make you think that?”

For a moment, they were quiet, looking around at the crowd of demons dressed to the nines. Elegant silk evening gowns and smart tuxedos abound. Their black slacks and dress shirt made them feel so under-dressed that they might as well have shown up naked.

Lucifer, sharp as ever, pulled them closer and leaned down the speak in their ear. “You needn’t feel intimidated, my dear.”

“I don’t feel intimidated, I feel stupid.”

“That isn’t any better.”

They sighed, casting another look around the hall. Golden mantle pieces, an elegantly-winding staircase, chandeliers absolutely dripping with crystals...everything made them feel incredibly insignificant.

“Should I have gotten more dressed up?”

Lucifer chuckled. “So that’s what has you worried?” 

He lead them away from the entrance into the hall proper. “All of these demons are dressed the way they are because they must work at being beautiful. You, my dear,” he stopped in front of them, reaching down to carefully hold the peacock pendent hanging from their neck - the only piece of jewelry they wore. “Are the only one who is naturally radiant enough to wear my symbol. These peasants could turn themselves into pure gold and they would only shine half as bright as you do.”

They could feel their face grow hot enough to catch fire. They opened and closed their mouth like a fish, intent on refuting Lucifer’s compliment, but he gave them no option. With a deep laugh that they felt travel up their spine, he offered his arm to them in a move straight out of a Victorian romance novel.

“Now then, shall we go? You’ll love this orchestra, I promise.”

Mammon: “I can’t believe there’s street fairs in the Devildom!”

It was surprisingly similar to something you would see up in the Human Realm. Strings of fairy lights lit up the cobblestone street that was lined with all kinds of stalls. Food stalls selling a variety of things that probably shouldn’t be deep fried but are anyway, games of chance, craftsman selling their wares - “Don’t buy anything from that one, all of their crap is cursed and they charge a fee for removal.” 

“Come on,” Mammon clicked his tongue as the two of them wandered throughout the fair. “Did’ja think the Devildom was all doomed souls and torture chambers?”

“...Yes?”

The demon paused before shrugging. “Ya know, that’s fair. But we have an image to keep, don’t we? Can’t have the little humans knowin’ about our bitchin’ carnivals.”

“I’ll take the secret to my grave.” 

Somewhere a little down the street, they could hear the spinning of a roulette wheel, and Mammon immediately perked up. 

“Aw yeah, now we’re talking! Come on, human, you get to see the Great Mammon in all of his glory!”

A thin spike of fear ran through their body as Mammon grabbed their wrist and tugged them through the crowd. “Didn’t Lucifer ban you from gambling? Like, forever?”

“Whatever, what he don’t know won’t hurt ‘im,” they finally reached the roulette booth. “As long as I don’t lose and you don’t squeal, we don’t have anything to worry about!”

“Mammon, there’s a big, gaping hole in your logic there - “

“Have a little faith, human!” Mammon grinned and he slapped some Grimm down on the counter. The glint in his eyes was damn near predatory, and it sent a different kind of shiver down their spine.

The demon behind the counter chuckled gleefully as they spun the wheel. The crowd surrounding them hooted and hollered and shoved each other to be able to watch the wheel, but Mammon looked surprisingly calm. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes trained on the pointer at the top of the wheel.

If they hadn’t been standing right next to him, they wouldn’t have noticed him rhythmically tapping against the sleeve of his jacket.

It was almost imperceptible, but the clicking of the wheel appeared to be following the beat that Mammon was tapping, slowing as the pauses between beats got longer. Eventually, both Mammon and the wheel stopped...

Right on the number he had bet on.

The crowd groaned as Mammon collected his winnings, some hissing at him as they dispersed. The Avatar of Greed looked truly in his element as he flipped a Grimm in the air. “Told ya.”

“You were...using magic?” the human looked back and forth between the wheel and Mammon. “You manipulated the wheel.”

“Aw, man, I was hoping you wouldn’t catch that.” he sighed, pocketing his earnings. “Can’t ya just pretend I have incredible luck?”

“I will if you buy me food.”

“Deal.”

Leviathan: Going to the arcade on a Wednesday at noon was definitely one of Levi’s best ideas.

“Why does your aim suck so bad?”

“Oh, you are SO lucky this game doesn’t have friendly fire, Levi.”

“You couldn’t hit me even if it did.”

They were standing close enough that it wasn’t difficult for them to learn over and bump him with their shoulder. His grip on the orange plastic gun slipped and the virtual bullet went flying off into cyberspace. By the time he managed to correct himself, the zombie he had been aiming for was in the process of devouring the character on screen.

“Hey, what gives?!”

“Oops, sorry. My aim really sucks, you know.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Despite their dirty tactics, Levi still wiped the floor with them, cackling gleefully as their scores tallied up on the screen. "Beat that, normie!"

They pouted and blew a raspberry at him. "Jerk. I want a rematch!"

"You're on!"

Satan: If they hadn’t been in the Devildom for so long, they probably would have been scared out of their mind.

That being said, they had been in the Devildom for a while, and seeing an intricately detailed panorama of a demon cat devouring a person alive was only a little unsettling at this point.

“Wow, that must have taken a while,” they got up closer to the exhibit. “It’s like I can hear the screams of agony.”

“Apparently the artist spent a century just on the expression,” Satan came up behind them, slipping his hand into theirs. “It shows, doesn’t it?”

The Devildom Art Museum was having a special exhibition on Demonic cats, and of course Satan had managed to snag tickets for the two of them. They didn’t particularly want to know how he had managed that.

“So, where to next?” they asked.

“The next room has a collection of cursed cat collars.” Satan nodded his head towards the door. “Apparently there’s one that causes whoever puts the collar on their cat to choke to death.”

“Okay, but if there are any there that harm the cats we’re firebombing the place.”

Asmodeus: “See, I told you this place was cute!”

He hadn’t been lying. The little cafe was tucked into a little side street, and the outside seating provided one of the best views of the lake that they had seen aside from being inside the castle grounds. The moons were just beginning to appear as they sky transitioned from the dark lavender color that served as the Devildom’s “day time” into full darkness, and the reflection from the lake made everything sparkle like diamonds.

“How did you even find this place, Asmo?” they asked as they were seated by the host. “This is pretty hidden.”

“Didn’t you know, darling?” Asmo laughed, reaching across the table to weave their hands together. “Some of the most beautiful things can be found in the strangest of places.”

“That’s pretty, but it doesn’t answer my question.”

“I slept with the owner’s son.”

They couldn’t hold back the definitely-not-cute snort. “Yeah, that tracks.”

“I never pass up an opportunity to fuck someone who can cook.” he said sagely. “I want to be fed before I have to do my walk of shame.”

“Don’t you have to have shame for that?”

“Hush,” Asmo giggled. “Here, they have a human-safe section.”

Beelzebub: “I don’t know, Beel, this place, seems awful expensive.”

The conversion rate between human currency and Grimm sometimes threw them off a little bit, but anytime you say three zeroes it was never a good sign.

“Does it?” Beel glanced up from the menu to look at them quizzically before peeking down at the prices again. “Ah, I guess it would. You don’t have to worry, I’ll pay for it.”

“That’s not - “

The server arrived, cutting off their protest. From the sheen of sweat on their brow, the human took it that the staff knew Beelzebub and his famous appetite. Even just the appetizer was enough to feed a whole family. When the waiter finally turned to them, he had to flip over to a new page in his pad. He looked rather relieved when they simply ordered water and fried bat wings (which they had discovered early on tasted a lot like chicken wings and it was therefore their go to.)

When the server dashed off to place their massive order, Beel turned back to the human. “What were you saying?”

“I don’t...” they sighed. “I won’t be able to pay you back.”

“Why would you have to?”

They blinked, tilting their head. “Huh?”

“I don’t mind paying. Plus, I get a discount here.”

The human glanced around the fancy dining area. “This doesn’t look like the place to give out discounts.”

“A lot of places give me and my brothers discounts. Well, Mammon lost a few of his, I think.”  Beel shrugged. “I think it’s because we’re considered nobility? I usually leave the discount as a tip though.”

That explained the grin the host had on their face when they sat them.

They smiled up at him. “You’re so sweet, Beel.”

Belphegor: Nights in the Devildom were surprisingly peaceful.

Once you got past the ideas of torture chambers and crypts, the nights were just like ones up in the Human Realm. Quiet, lazy, and on clear nights, you could see the stars.

“Do you know what that one is?”

The human followed where Belphegor was pointing. “Hm...Orion?”

“Ding.” Belphie laughed. “I knew you would be good at this.”

In typical Belphie fashion, he had texted them out of the blue and told them to meet him in the courtyard at midnight. They thought about just ignoring him and going to sleep, but now they were curious. Which was probably the demon’s plan.

When they arrived, Belphie was laying down on a blanket he had spread out on the grass.

“Took you long enough,” he yawned. “I almost fell asleep waiting for you.”

“It’s only 12:02!”

“Bold of you to assume I can’t fall asleep in two minutes. Are you going to sit down or what?”

And that was how the two of them ended up cuddled next to each other and stargazing.

Belphie knew a surprising amount about constellations.He was able to point out which star was named what, and knew most of the myths that the constellations were named after. Unsurprisingly, listening to him talk was very soothing, and they could feel their eyelids drooping.

“If you want to sleep, you can.” he finally murmured, sounding close to drifting off himself. “We can keep each other warm.”

“...I don’t think Lucifer would appreciate finding us passed out on the lawn.”

“All the more reason to do it.”

[thescatterbrainedwriter]

Crossed Wires pt.4

Flash Fanfic

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~3,000

Pairings: Oc x Canon

——

“Hey uh, is Emily alright?” Ralph asked wandering into the room and gesturing to the hall behind him. “She seemed kinda... off....” He paused pointing to Harry. “Are you-?”

“Harry, again,” he replied finishing his thought.

“Again? Wha?” Ralph asked puzzled.

“Yeah, you missed Lothario, Wolfgang and H. P.,” Cisco said forcing a smile. Ralph only became more confused by the unfamiliar name list and scratched his head. “So, those are.....?”

“Other entangled consciousnesses, yes,” Harry answered. “It would seem that, due to recent circumstances, they essentially have free reign.”

“Well that can’t be good,” Ralph commented. “No, it isn’t,” Harry responded rather curtly. “Did you happen to see where she was going?” Ralph shook his head. “I’m not sure of the destination but she was walking pretty fast down the hall to the elevator. Didn’t even say hi.” Harry rubbed his chin as he sunk into thought. There were quite a lot of places the elevators lead to, certainly there was a more sure way of predicting where she went other than checking each floor. “Was there any particular place she spent a lot of time in the past? Other than her room that is.”

They all paused to consider the question scouring their memories for any kind of clue. It had been quite a few years now since she was first held at the lab under instructions from Thawn so there was a lot of information to sift through. “Well, she has been spending more time at Jitters lately. Specifically the loft area,” Ralph offered. “Maybe she needs the distraction of so many conversations.”

“Yeah, but even before Eddie erased Thawn from the timeline she seemed to really like the pipeline,” Cisco countered. “Even leading up to when he eventually showed himself she would be down there.”

“She did train in the bunker a fair bit,” Caitlyn said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure about when we all went home but Dr. Wells did find her down there quite often.”

After a brief pause in consideration, Harry straightened his back and started to leave. “I know where she is,” he said as he left leaving everyone rather curious. It was only when he stepped inside the elevator and pushed a button that he realized he had no idea what he wanted to say. He smiled to himself and decided, just this once, he would go with it and see what happened.

Once the elevator dinged, he took a breath and stepped out making his way toward the large door of the pipeline. It was closed as always, seeing as they weren’t keeping metas there anymore nor using it to accelerate particles, making him momentarily doubt his choice but went ahead and opened it anyway. Slipping his hands into his pockets he walked out onto the bridge just outside the door and stood quietly looking around. “I know your here,” he said after a short while still observing the surroundings. Slowly Emily peeked around from underneath and floated up bringing a smile to Harry’s face. “There you are.” She kept her distance continuing to hover off the ground, still not quite convinced and very much worried about his condition, watching him warily.

“It’s Harry,” he assured. “It’s ok.” He reached out a hand beaconing her over and after a brief pause she took it landing softly in front of him. “So, wanna tell me why you came down here?” he asked.

“It’s... uh..... it’s quiet,” Emily replied still not quite relaxed, though not wanting to let his hand go. Her gaze was fixed on their joined hands and her thumb slowly ran over his knuckles while she considered the rest of her response. Harry just stood quietly letting her compose herself. “It, uh.... it..... was the only place where, when all this.... started.... where I figured, I’d have the best chance of,” she took a breath not having noticed she had been holding it and took the opportunity to quickly iron out what she was rambling on about. “I figured it’d be the best place to get any kind of... I dunno, hint or, glimmer of progress to getting home to my Earth. It.... also gave to opportunity to.... get away from Eobard.” Her eyes were still glued to his hand and he got the feeling she really didn’t want to make eye contact.

“Did it work?” He asked attempting to catch her gaze. “Getting any hints I mean.”

Emily shook her head. “No, not really. Flukes here and there but, not enough to give definitive evidence. Kind of like the wow signal.” After a brief pause she finally looked up, Harry’s face softening a bit in response. “Now, that can’t be all you came down here for. So, why are you here?” she asked.

Harry froze for a second getting distracted by her eyes, they held so many emotions at once it was difficult to discern what her current one was. He smiled and cast his gaze down with a small chuckle. “Ok, you got me,” he said before meeting her gaze again. “When I came back to the front, you were gone. Aaaand, everyone was looking down an empty hall, and when Ralph said you didn’t say hi, I knew something must have been up. You always make a point of greeting the team.” Emily smiled a little, her worry lessening just a bit. “Sooo, I came to see if you were alright. That and, inform you of an idea me and the other subconscious Wells’ thought up.”

“Oh?” Emily remarked in surprise.

“Yup, though it wasn’t easy given Lothario and Wolfgang fighting. Mostly Wolfgang,” he replied a little sourly.

“I bet,” she mused relaxing a bit more. “I’m surprised Harrison the Gray didn’t come up, or Sony.”

“Oh, they did. They were actually surprisingly helpful.” Emily raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ok, maybe not so much the wizard,” Harry admitted, “but they did help get different perspectives, like with the DeVoe problem.”

“Good to know you still have your council friends,” Emily smiled. “So, what did they come up with?” Harry looked down at his feet trying to formulate his wording. “Well,” he began, “it involves you, being in the vicinity. Like an anchor point.” She looked at him somewhat confused. “Look, it’s a mess.... in there. And, given your relatively strong connection to him, especially recently, it should help aim him in the right direction at the very least.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Emily asked, hint of hopefulness in her question.

“Worked for me,” he said simply. Bemused, a small smile began to spread over Emily’s face before her features softened to her usual demeanor. “Is it.... selfish of me... to not want him to be successful?” he asked after a brief pause. She looked at him a little confused. “What?” she asked cocking her head to one side.

“Is it wrong I don’t want it to work?” he asked again. Emily frowned sympathetically at him and sighed. “Harry...”

“It’s just,” he continued, “I feel like..... I feel like I.... lost time. So much time. Time grieving, being bitter, being so focused in being overly protective of Jessie, throwing my all at Flash problems, being scared...” Emily pulled him into a hug and just held him; she listened to his heart beat and his breathing become heavy with him explaining himself and trying to keep his composure. “Do you.... blame me?” He asked softly. She stayed quiet but he didn’t really need her to answer out loud. He knew what she would say.

“Do you know.... what my mom, told me? When I left home?” Emily asked after a long pause. “She said, when I told her I wouldn’t be able to come home for a very long while, when I told her it was for her safety, she said it was ok. And, it would be ok because, because she would keep me in a special place in her heart.” She rubbed her cheek on his chest and sighed deeply, Harry engulfing her in a firm hug. “So, whenever she was sad, she would go to that special place and.... it wouldn’t be so bad. And I did the same.”

“So, are you saying I should just be ok with this?”

Emily looked up and shook her head. “No, not completely anyway. I don’t expect you to, but, maybe.... this can make it a little easier?” He sighed heavily placing a hand on her cheek to gently stroke it. “I suppose,” he relented as his face softened. “Though it’s going to be incredibly difficult to come to terms with not being able to touch you anymore.”Emily smiled cheekily. “I’m sure Nash can cover that front.” He frowned unamused making her stick her tongue out playfully. “Not. Helpful,” he said dryly. Emily grinned wide prompting Harry to squeeze her in a hug again. “I’m going to miss this,” he lamented. She buried her face into him squeezing back before he let go. “Alright, ready to go get Nash?” She nodded slipping her hand into his as they turned to head toward the elevator. They rode up in silence but Emily was still tense, her hand alternating between squeezing and a relaxed grip and sticking particularly close to his side.

As they exited the open steel doors and made their way down the hall, which felt like the longest ever hike to Emily, Harry could feel her pulse in her hand from how high her blood pressure had spiked due to worry and stress. He gave a gentle squeeze to distract her just enough to earn her gaze. “Hey,” he said with a low almost raspy voice. “You really think the brightest minds of the former multiverse and the most stubborn geologist treasure hunter can’t pull this off?” She paused, then smiled for a moment before worry took over her face again. “No, I suppose not,” she admitted. “You’re all too stubborn to fail.” Harry smirked as they rounded the corner, everyone in the medical bay waiting for their return. Cisco smiled gently in welcome and one by one, everyone else mirrored it.

“We’re sorry we didn’t realize how not ok you were with developments,” Caitlyn apologized.

“I think I did pretty well, all things considered,” Emily responded trying to mellow her nerves.

“Ready to put it all behind you?” Cisco asked holding up the neural device. Emily glanced up at Harry who smiled down at her. “Ready when you are,” he said resolute. She took a deep breath and nodded, Harry releasing her hand to approach Cisco giving him a half wink indicating he was ready. They all walked into the med bay, Harry sitting on the gurney to get the device affixed and Emily lingering outside the door a bit.

“Now, this isn’t quite synced to Nash’s brainwaves,” Cisco explained pointing to the thing in his hand before carefully attaching it to Harry’s forehead. “It will gradually get there, but it’s starting at one similar to yours in order to ease the transition.” Harry nodded in understanding before looking at Emily. “I’m ready,” he said to no one in particular before Cisco initiated the program. Harry’s body became rigid and his eyes dilated as he stared into nothing, Cisco and Caitlyn monitoring his brainwaves closely and Emily, now barely breathing, felt worry begin to bubble again. “How are you feeling?” Caitlyn asked flicking her eyes between her tablet and Harry.

“It’s.... strange,” Harry managed to grunt out. It seemed like he was experiencing a measure of discomfort, and Emily hoped it wasn’t accompanied by pain. “M-my body feels.... fuzzy,” he continued. “No.... not fuzzy..... like static.”

“Is that.... good?” Emily asked.

“Well, it’s not bad,” Caitlyn tried comforting. “All the readings are within safe measure, blood pressure and pulse a little elevated but nothing too concerning.”

“Device still working perfectly,” Cisco added. “And it looks like his brainwaves are beginning to iron themselves out.”

“Snow....” Harry grunted again. “I think.... I’m about to...” his sentence was cut short as his consciousness was pulled from the front. The room was tense as his eyes went blank, his head lulled forward a bit but his body continued to stay rather rigid. Caitlyn and Cisco continued vigilant monitoring of the readings as Emily held her breath not daring to drop her gaze. A few more tense seconds passed before Harry inhaled sharply becoming alert again startling the group. “Harry?” Cisco nearly shouted in question. “Ah, no,” his voice said in yet one more curious variation. “Sherloque, but don’t.....worry. I’m just..... a placeholder. Nash.... Nash got swept away. Don’t.... worry, I’m here to.... help him get.... settled again.” His head fell back and alarms started going off sending panic shooting through Emily as Cisco and Caitlyn began to scramble. Ralph stood close to her in order to act as a grounding presence, hoping to distract her even just slightly. “Guys, what’s going on?” He asked for her.

“Working on it,” Cisco responded in stress and annoyance as he started making adjustments, Caitlyn was doing the same as she began regretting what they were doing. Emily’s eyes began to swell with tears as her stress started hitting an all time high even making Ralph become uncharacteristically tense. Sherloque shuddered making a loud noise causing the whole room jump, the alarms still going off as he fought to catch his breath. He placed a hand on his head and leaned back, the alarms finally stopping after a moment, and everyone stared in anticipation.

“Ugh, my head,” he complained. “It’s killing me.”

“Sherloque?” Caitlyn asked tentatively.

He shook his head. “No, no. It’s Nash, I’m back. Has it always been this bright in here?” He looked around the room as everyone started laughing in relief and his gaze landed on Emily. “Hey,” he said with a smile, one eye still closed from the headache. “Hey...” Emily replies in a raspy voice, the wave of relief threatening to push the tears over the point of no return and start an ugly crying event. She shuffled over to him and wrapped him in a tight hug burying her face into his chest. “Hwa- hey. Hey, careful. I have to remember how to breathe again,” he chuckled. “I’m just glad you found your way back,” she said quietly. Nash smiled down at her placing his hand on her back trying to comfort and calm her strained breathing from fighting her impending breakdown.

“We’ll have to keep him for observation for a few days,” Caitlyn said finally pulling her attention away from the readings. “Just to be on the safe side.”

“Yeah, you know, make sure his brain is just on one track,” Cisco added. “And wont do any mental gymnastics.” Emily turned to face them and nodded still keeping hold of Nash. “Yeah, ok. Understandable.”

“You pretty much live here anyway,” Ralph chimed in from the doorway. “So you’ll get word immediately if he needs anything. Or, you know, somethin goes wrong. Which it won’t, not with Caitlyn, Frost and Cisco on the look out.” Having finally let go of Nash, Emily turned to Ralph and made a face though understood he was trying to reassure her in his own way. Shortly after, Barry walked in having become curious of the gathering. “Hey guys,” he said glancing at everyone before settling on Nash. “Everything ok, Harry?”

“Ah, yeah but, not Harry,” Nash replied. “I’m Nash again, the one and only. Good as new too.”

“So far,” Caitlyn followed. “We’re keeping an eye on him for a while just in case.”

“Oh, ok. Yeah, that makes sense. Good to have you back Nash,” Barry concludes with a smile. Nash smiled back before glancing over to Emily who resigned to gently lay her hand over one of his. “Yeah, good to be back. So, I guess I’ll be the one staying over your place for a change,” he said with a wink turning his full attention to Emily. She raises an eyebrow trying hard to keep an amused smile from appearing. “Yeah, I suppose you will.”

“Will make it a lot easier to make visiting hours too,” he said raising his eyebrows. Emily’s smirk spreads a little more as her battle to keep a straight face was beginning to fail. “Mhmm, yeah that’s true,” she agreed

“Aannnd, well, given Caitlyn, or should I say Frost, will be busy with.... you know.... Flash things..... she might need....”

“Help?” Emily cut off. “So what, you want me to play nurse?” Nash blinked for a moment and froze, silent smiles adorned the faces around the room. “I..... uh.... well....” he stuttered before Emily finally broke into a smile. “As much as I would love to do that for you, I don’t want to compromise your recovery.” Nash raised an eyebrow in confusion as she glanced behind him toward Caitlyn who was catching on to what she was getting at. “Such distractions could hinder progress,” she continued, “but I’ll be sure to visit often. Don’t worry.”

“It’s true,” Caitlyn added. “Considering the circumstances in which it happened, we don’t want to risk too much of the similar stimulus doing the same thing,” She concluded and winked at Emily.

“Wh- bu-“ he stuttered. She winked sticking her tongue out a little leaving him defeated before gently patting his cheek continuing to smile. “But seriously, Nash, I want you to rest so you can get better as fast as you can. Alright?” He huffed but relented, placing his hand over the one on his cheek. “Ok.”

“So!” Emily said suddenly surprising Nash, “I’m gonna go pop over to your place and make sure it’s all squared away while you’re recovering and then I’ll be right back. Ok?”

“Hurry back,” he replied contentedly with a smile. With one last grin Emily popped away through a wormhole leaving Nash to settle in. Frost, who had resumed control once again, had taken over setting up monitoring his recovery progress. Her bedside manners had improved though she still wasn’t much of a fan of his jokes. Mostly because she didn’t really get them. None-the-less, she kept pleasant conversation with him, pleasant for her anyway, during her setting up and he did his best to behave. When Emily returned about two hours later, she hung around him far more often that she teased she would; not that he minded. She did give him plenty of down time to just rest and let his mind be calm which, after a while, he was rather grateful for. Maybe she does know more of this science stuff than she thinks and has led everyone to believe.

After having awoken late that evening, not even realizing he dozed off in the first place, he found the lab was dark and quiet. Momentarily taking stock of his surroundings he was somewhat startled to hear breathing and light snoring near by, finding Emily had *somehow* managed to curl up on a near by chair and fall asleep. He still had no idea how she could bend the way she did and was always in awe of the new stretches she seemed to come up with in her sleep. He smiles amused before noticing someone in his peripheral startling him again. Only when he recognized his own face but on another body did he relax. “Jee-zus!” he nearly screeched. “Honestly, I know you’re in my head and all but do you *really* have to do that?”

The figure just stands quietly making it difficult which Wells personality has come up let alone where he’s looking. “I apologize,” he said taking a step forward. “It took quite a lot to get here.”

“Ah, Harry,” he recognized. “Nice to see your face again. Or, well, mine...” Harry just sighed not amused with his attempt at a joke. “How are you feeling?” He asked Nash though still not quite making eye contact. Nash scratches his head in brief thought. “Well, the headaches aren’t so bad, and my head doesn’t feel fuzzy anymore,” he attempted at small talk. “So, why are you....?” He began asking.

“Take care of her, alright?” Harry interrupted. Nash pauses finally realizing Harry is looking at the sleeping Emily in the chair. “Uh, yeah. Obviously,” Nash began. “No, I mean it,” Harry interrupted again. “Take good care of her, understand?” Nash paused again somewhat confused just looking at him. Harry had glared at him infusing his last sentence with command before it softened and drifted back to Emily. “She’s a good one, a really good one,” he said somberly. “So if you do anything to hurt her, or don’t protect her, or otherwise make her angry enough to leave, so help me I will—“

“Who, hey, relax!” Nash defended flinching at the sudden two step charge Harry made. He may be a projection of his mind but his reflexes still registered a potential punch to the face. Could mental punches even hurt? “I knooowww, alright!” he said bracing himself. Emily stirred at the raised voice making both of them freeze. Once she settled back down Nash let out his held breath turning his attention back to Harry. “I know, ok? You don’t think I do? That’s why it took me so long to even say anything.” Harry paused thoughtfully finally giving Nash attention and not just fleetingly. “Yeah, I know,” he agreed quietly. “We had a conversation about it, over brownies no less.”

Nash smiled. “Yeah, she makes some really good brownies doesn’t she?” Harry smiles in affirmation. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect her to my best ability.”

“Good,” Harry concludes. “Because, it’s not so much I’m worried about her getting seriously injured; she’s really quite capable of doing that even when not in dire situations; but rather, if she does wind up getting hurt even if not in a physical way, she’s more than capable of beating your ass for it.” Nash froze and his face fell having never really thought of that making Harry chuckle and smirk. “So yeah, don’t make her mad. Understand?” Nash nods. “Yeah, yeah sure thing.” Harry chuckles one last time before disappearing. “Be glad she likes you,” he says with a wave.

Nash sits quietly in his bed going over what Harry had said. While he was very well aware what a catch she was, he never really considered how lucky he was, as well as the team, that she had become so fond of them. Her abilities were still not fully explained or explored, even in her own words, and from what they had observed so far would make her quite the formidable enemy should she so choose. He looked over at the chair she was in again, once again observing a new and more strange contortion, and smiled. “Yeah, lucky me.”

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~Fin~

[dadolorian]

Just like me - Part 3

A/N: Here it is, part 3, i hope this makes up for their little split in p2  Credits: Thank you @oloreaa​ for being my Beta reader/editor !

Title: Just Like me Fandom: Prospect (2018) Ship: Ezra/Reader Warning: More talk of injuries/mental issues as a result. Word count: 6K + KILL ME Master List Request status AO3 Link Previous part Next part - coming soon

It was a good year and a half later when you landed back on central next. Almost two years since you had met Ezra originally. Simultaneously feeling like a lifetime had passed and feeling like you had just seen him yesterday.

True to your word, you had taken the next job you could, taking a standard contract to mine a newly discovered mineral deposit on a sulfur heavy moon for scientific research. It was a decent enough pay once you handed in your harvest to the research team. It didn’t provide you the rush that Aurelac harvesting did, though. It was the kind of job that was a ‘safe bet’, not a gamble, like it was on the Green. You might have waited for something more exciting, but you had wanted to leave central as soon as possible after you had said your goodbyes to Ezra. Wanting to push the memory of him away as quickly as you could. Stupidly believing that out of sight meant out of mind. You followed that job up with another on the same planet, harvesting a highly conductive metal similar to gold, it was used in electronics. It was not the most dazzling payload you had ever collected, nothing exciting or too complicated like the Aurelac, it was backbreaking and tiring, but it filled your pockets well. Despite it being the busiest job you had ever been on, constantly surrounded by the other harvesters on the teams or the research scientists, it was the loneliest you had ever felt on the job.The loss of Ezra’s companionship screamed loudest at you during that time, much to your annoyance. You had taken the job to distract yourself from him, not lament even more.  As you laid in the crowded communal bunk, surrounded by people, physically closer to more people than you ever had been in your entire life, but more alone than ever. Ezra had made you feel like the only other person in the entire galaxy when you spoke, that feeling had not faded due to distance or time. What was once something that made you feel special, important, the center of the entire universe, now made you feel isolated and lost, forgotten, with no Ezra around, feeling like you were the only other person in the universe suddenly became soul crushing. You longed to see him more than all the points in the galaxy, you dreamt about losing yourself in a conversation with him once more, of becoming bewitched in his sparkling dark eyes and alluring, crooked smile. Oh to simply have him curled up beside you on your bunk, not even speaking, just there. You did not slowly start to forget about him as you had originally feared you would.

The return to Central was significantly different this time around, your days aboard the ship home made you more resentful of your past self, as you wandered the halls the two of you used to explore. You couldn’t bear to spend extended time in your quarters, that was where you had enjoyed his company the most, choosing to be in there only for sleep. The departure was much quicker than the last time, you pushed yourself through the busy crowd gathered in the ships entrance foyer to get out as quickly as possible. While the weather was nothing to note when you had last departed, this time it was raining, and dark, well into the night. The ship had landed much later than scheduled due to a passing meteor shower which only dampened your mood further. You had not once stopped thinking about him, you had been convinced you would get over him eventually, you often scolded yourself for how much you yearned for him, the two of you were never anything more than friends but you longed for him the way you imagined you would have a lover. It was like he was your other half, and now a piece of you was missing, ironic for two people who had both physically lost parts of themselves. Returning to the place you had last seen him did nothing to change those feelings. You pushed it away once more, cowardly retreating away from your feelings once again when given the opportunity to make things right. You knew he had to be somewhere on the planet, huddled up in a little home with Cee, you hoped so at least. He was ready to put so much work into becoming her guardian, it would be a huge disappointment if he had been unsuccessful. It would be so easy, to just go grab a phone and call, you knew the number by heart now. You would often trade your books for new ones on a job but you refused to part ways with the one Ezra gave you, even if the messy scrawl was etched into your brain forever. It was the only reminder you had of him, the only proof that he had ever actually existed in your life. You were never able to separate from it, no matter how much you had wanted to push his memory away. You passed the payphones, considering it for the briefest of moments before the call of the job listing board won out to you. Calling him meant confronting the emotions you were trying to bury, and facing your fear. ‘Coward,’ Ezra's voice echoed in your mind, the same thought that you heard every time you considered reaching out. You were terrified of what he would say if you ever saw him again. Shaking those thoughts out of your head, you made your way over to the flickering, beat up screen displaying all the departures, groaning as you went through them all. The next sling out for your company was more than a month away, meaning you had two options, stick around and take a break, or change to a different company. If you changed, you would forgo your 2nd class lodgings and ship, you didn’t have a hush deal with anyone else, so you would have to rent a pod just like every other prospector, your own quarters and ship was a luxury you did not want to pass up. You didn’t even have the chance to use your own ship for the last job, it seemed like a waste to not use it. You groaned loudly in annoyance, running your hands through your hair as you relented that you would have to wait for the time being, last time you never had the opportunity to revel in the spoils of your harvest. 

You supposed this time you could, maybe that would be a better distraction. You trudged out of the arrivals and departures terminal you were in, past the wall of payphones again, hesitating for just a moment before pushing on, through the rain to walk to the strip where you knew there would be hotels. You didn’t bother with a cab, the strip wasn’t that far away and you were cheap, you could walk the distance. Your tired body protested however, the long boring trip after months of backbreaking work, mixed with the rain and delay in arrival, it all wore you down, the emotional baggage you were carrying certainly didn’t help much either. A walk that should have taken you five minutes tops once you left the space port took you close to twenty. The light rain turned into a downpour. It couldn’t get any worse.  

Of course, when someone says ‘it can’t get any way worse’ the universe always seems to prove them wrong. And it seemed the ‘merciful’ universe was conspiring against you, because as you arrived on the hotel strip you were angered to find two were locked, no one bothered to come to the door no matter how many times you rung the service bell, one was shut for construction, another two were out of rooms and the last had a rather snooty desk clerk who decided, just by looking at you, that you couldn't afford their luxuries and you were promptly shooed away. You gave him a piece of your mind as you were escorted away, angrily flipping the clerk off as security escorted you out. This was the industrial district, not a place where high end clients tended to stay. You almost cried as you walked the streets alone, too tired to try and find a new place on foot or even formulate a plan. You were all but ready to collapse in a bus stop or under a bridge, ready to admit defeat and sleep anywhere that was dry when a buzzing light caught the corner of your eye. A singular, beat up old payphone. His number flashed in your head again. You were all but ready to push the temptation away until you realized you were already inside and dialing. Perhaps you were just a little too tired and desperate to stop. Your stubbornness vanishes in hopes for a dry, warm place to sleep. You held your breath in anticipation and dread, a potent mix of emotions swirled through your mind as you waited for it to either ring off or for him to answer. You weren’t sure which one you wanted more. “Hmm? Who the fuck is calling me so god damn early in the morning?” a familiar, tired voice groaned. Your breath hitched. “I swear you telemarketers never understand people need to sleep, I have to wake up early tomorrow- today I imagine for wor-” “Ezra” You whispered, voice barely there, interrupting his tired rambling. “A-Angel?” He gasped, sounding considerably more awake and alert. The two of you listened in silence, him waiting for your response, you struggling to talk. “Y-yeah, it's me,” you sighed, eventually breaking the silence, curling in on yourself to protect yourself from the cold and his reaction. “W-well not that I'm not happy to hear from you, because I am, exceedingly so, but what the matter? Why are you calling?” he asked cautiously, hopefully. “I-uh, I landed back in central like an hour ago...” you whimpered just a bit “I have nowhere else to go. No Hotels and no ride...” You heard some quick shuffling on his end, it sounded like fabric, sheets maybe? He was getting dressed, your tired mind eventually concluded. “Where are you? I’m on my way,” he said. Nerves and panic overcame you for a moment, suddenly faced with the realization that you would see him, as much as you wanted too, you were too scared to face the reality of being confronted by him again. “N-no, there's no need for that,” you stammered. “I shouldn’t have bothered you, I'm sorry I woke you-” “Don’t hang up!” he begged, pleading. It reminded you of the last night you saw him. Guilt stabbed you in the stomach and twisted.  “Please, it's no trouble at all….. I’m not letting you sleep out there all alone, in this rain nonetheless. I am begging you, please let me help you out of this situation. I just want to make sure you're safe, so please, where are you?” You hesitated, biting your lip and listened to his deep, calming breaths before telling him your current location, tiredly reading dim, fluttering neon signs to help him figure out your exact position. He sounded pleased as he was getting ready to race out the door, apparently you weren’t too far from his home. He had to hang up as he headed out, begging you not to go anywhere before he galloped out his door. Once you were greeted with the dial tone once more you hung up the phone and sunk down slowly to the floor of the payphone, too tired to keep standing and soaked to the core as you waited for him. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you had almost fallen asleep, shivering in the cold when soft knocking on the glass roused you. There he stood, on the other side of the glass, drenched to high heavens, goofy, crooked grin you had missed so much, he greeted you with a wave of his one arm. He opened the door with a struggle, you shivered more as the cold night air hit you, and he helped you to your feet. “Easy, Angel, let's get you out this cold and into something dry,” he said, taking your bag from you and leading you in the apparent direction of his home, with his arm securely around you. His hand kept caressing you as you walked, and he constantly glanced at you as if checking you were really there. It was a good thing he lived so close, because apparently he didn’t have a vehicle. You supposed that made sense, driving with one arm would be difficult. He helped you walk all the way there, encouraging you to walk just a bit further each time you sagged tiredly. Before too long you were pulled into his small apartment, too tired to take it in and ready to collapse once more, on the floor if you had to, soaking wet or not. “Angel, I'm going to run the shower for you,” he said, setting your bag down. “I know you’re tired, but you are soaked to the bone. So let's get you warm and dry, hm?” he suggested leading you gently into an equally small bathroom. He ran the shower for you before going off to collect some dry clothes and a towel. “Here, get yourself all warmed up, you can wear these, your bag’s just as soaked as you are I am afraid, it doesn’t fare well for any of your spare clothes,” he said, handing them over to you. Grey sweats and a plain black t-shirt, they were his. “I’ll make the couch up , and you can take my bed.” You began to tiredly protest, mumbling an insistence that you would take the couch, but he wouldn’t allow that. Instructing you to get yourself warm and dry before you got sick. The only reason you relented, apart from being too tired to put up a decent argument, was because he wasn’t going to shower and warm himself up until you were done. Getting him sick wouldn’t help your guilt. Once you were finished in the bathroom, dressed in the spare clothes of his you walked out, half dead, he led you to the bed, helping your groggy mind remove your prosthetic, he placed a towel under it and leant it against the wall upside down. It was something you had never told him to do, but he had most likely noticed you doing it after every shower, back on your return from the Green. A gentle hand tucked you in, hushed whispers to you of how happy he was to see you again as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead and wished you sweet dreams. You weren’t sure how much your tired mind was conjuring it up, but you felt him caress your cheek tenderly before finally leaving. You were quick to drift off, the smell of him surrounding you and the sound of the shower running relaxing you and letting you finally succumb to sleep. 

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Happy chatter and a boisterous laugh awoke you the next morning. Alarmed, you sat up quickly trying to figure out just where you were. The room was unfamiliar, a bed with worn, plain sheets, a dresser partially opened with unfolded clothes spilling out, your prosthetic leaning against the wall. The bedside table and the dresser had multiple novels piled on top of them, but otherwise the room lacked any other personal touches that might have helped your sleep delayed brain. You were alone, and in clothes that weren't yours. Thoroughly confused, you were about to panic, before the smell hit you, a familiar masculine smell you had not forgotten, even after such a long time. A smell you associated with safety, books and a singular warm arm embracing you. Ezra. That’s right, you had called him out of desperation last night. You listened to the voices in the next room, you recognised them as both Cee And Ezra. They were laughing together, you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but they were happy, relaxed. You sat in silence, trying to figure out what to do. There was that stubborn side of you that wanted to run, to double down on the stupid belief that you had kept since you last saw him, simply because you were too prideful and afraid to admit to yourself that you were wrong. But realistically, you knew you could run anymore, you were in his bed, you would have to face him and accept the truth: that you had fucked up, that cutting him off had not made anything easier, that you had been miserable for the past year and a half, even though you had ended your friendship with him to avoid that happening. ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ you thought to yourself as you heard what sounded like the front door close, and the muffle conversation ended. A few seconds later a gentle knock rapped at the door, Ezra cautiously poked his head into the room. A smile spread on his face when he saw you sitting up and awake. “Angel!” he praised, allowing himself to enter the room. He sat himself on the edge of the bed and took one of your hands in his, stroking your knuckles softly. “I have just made some breakfast for the Little bird, there's still plenty left, would you like some?” he asked, the familiar charming smile that you had missed so much still plastered on his face. You sighed and nodded, giving a timid smile back, put your leg on and quietly followed him out into the main living area, still holding his hand as he led you to your seat at the kitchen counter. Now actually awake you took note of the space. It was small, nothing fancy, just the basics in terms of furniture. A very small lounge area right by the front door, the kitchen directly to the right, with a small island and bar,. A similar sized table and matching chairs stood by the windows, and three doors in the little ‘hallway’ by the kitchen, the bathroom, Ezra's room and what you would assume was Cee's room. The only personal touches around the place was a mess of papers and more piles of books, just like in his room. You were too busy looking to realize Ezra had been speaking as he cooked up some breakfast, it was pancakes. “-And Birdie’s hoping to apply for a literary scholarship, she has the aspiration to become an author, surprise surprise. I instructed her that she has to dedicate at least one of her books to me, and that I intended to get her first copy, signed, mind you.” You managed to catch the end of what he was saying as he finished serving up your breakfast, putting the plate in front of where you were sitting at the little counter bar. He leaned onto the counter opposite you with a smile, allowing you to dig in. You ate in silence, appreciating just how much better the food was compared to the ship you had just gotten off. You were steeling yourself for the conversation that was coming, tension hanging in the air. “I missed you,” he eventually said after you had been sitting silently for too long. You didn’t know what to say, as usual, so you just kept on eating awkwardly, not looking at him. Mentally scolding yourself, ignoring your issues had proven to be ineffective, why do you bother keeping it up? “Please don’t tell me you already regret calling me Angel?”  He sighed at your lack of response, brushing some of your messy bed hair from your face so he could see your eyes better.  You shook your head. “N-no, I just don’t know what to say. I’m not like you Ezra. I can’t just..say how I really feel.” Frustrated with yourself, you looked down at your lap. “Did you miss me?” he asked, voice a mixture of hope and nerves. You sighed loudly, did he really think you didn’t? “Of course I did, Ezra,” you whispered, looking up and meeting his gaze. “I have found myself unable to stop thinking about you Angel,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck and turning away from your gaze. “Nothing I have done has quelled the longing in my heart for your company. I am happy, with this new life I have built with my Little Bird, but I must concede that I have not been successful in my endeavors to find a friendship that meant half as much as yours did to me.” Yet again you were at a loss for words, tears welled up in your eyes and you bit back a sob.  “Angel?” he asked, concern thick in his voice when you let out the chocked sound and the dam inside you broke, the tidal wave of emotions crashing through you that had been pent up inside you for the past year and a half. He was quick to round the counter and pull you off your seat and into his embrace, soothing you with gentle strokes to your back.  “Easy, Angel, easy,” he soothed. “Tell me what is upsetting you so?”  You shook your head, unable to articulate yourself the way he seemed to do so with ease.  “Are you upset about seeing me again?” he tried, you shook your head no again. “N-no, I’m happy to see you again, Ezra, really,” you mumbled into his shirt as you continued to cry.  “But these are not happy tears, Angel,“ he pointed out, cupping your face gently and directing your gaze to his. He brushed a tear away with his thumb. “You are not crying because you are happy to see me. Which perturbs me. I beg of you to tell me what’s wrong?”  “I’m just…” you trailed off trying to find the words, he was looking at you with such patience and support, silently encouraging you to continue. How could you have ever pushed him away? How could you hurt him like that? You did not deserve his kindness, his care, and yet, after pushing him away for no other reason than stubbornness and pride he still, still dropped everything to come help you out, even in the middle of the night in the pouring rain. You wanted to confess every thought, every regret for what you had done, proclaim to him how wrong you had been and that you were an idiot for not listening to him. But those words were trapped, all you could manage was a quiet whisper of “I’m sorry.” His body slumped as he let out a breath you didn’t notice he had been holding. His soft smile grew as he shook his head and pulled you in a tight embrace again.  He placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head. ”And here i thought something was wrong,” he sighed, gently nuzzling the top of your head with his cheek. “I forgive you, of course I forgive you,” he murmured, not letting you go.  He was just too good to you. “You were right,” your voice tight and eyes filled with more tears that threatened to spill. Your fingers gripped the material of his shirt tightly. ”I-I was just being stubborn and there was no reason to cut you out. How can you even look at me? All it did was hurt me more and I let it happen. I hurt you, Ezra.”  He kissed the crown of your head once more. “That you did,” he began,“But I forgive you anyway, Angel. You did not do it out of malice or rancor. I cannot blame you for a misguided belief that you were protecting yourself, as much as your actions pained me, not when you have accepted your faults and have come to amend them.”  “B-but I didn’t,” you admitted in shame, burying your face in his chest. “I had multiple opportunities to call you before last night, I passed them all up until my circumstances changed and I became desperate. I was actively trying to avoid seeing you again until I ran out of options.”  “Such a stubborn woman,” he murmured, rocking you ever so gently in his embrace. “I truly do not care about any of that now, Angel. All that matters is that I was gifted the pleasure of seeing you again. That you did eventually decide to grace my life with your presence once more." Ezra beamed at you, before continuing, "I have sorely missed your company and I am simply too overjoyed about your return to me to even entertain thoughts about anything else." He paused, shifting slightly. "Just please tell me, now that you are here that you will not leave me once more?”  Your arms cautiously wrapped around his middle. “I’ll have to go back to work eventually,” you muttered. “Not like that Angel, you know what i mean,” he said, cupping your face again so you could meet his gaze. “Tell me you won’t cut me out again,” he said, brow stern and eyes searching yours, searching for a truthful response. 

Your lip trembled.”I won’t,” you whispered, voice quiet but resolve clear. “Okay, good,” he sighed, releasing his gentle hold on your face. “Then that is all that matters. We can put the past behind us and continue on.”  “Just like that?” you asked, struggling to accept he was willing to forget everything that went wrong.  “Do you want to sit down and talk about it?” He asked. “I am more than willing to, if that's what you wish Angel.”  “M-maybe not right now,” you sigh, not quite ready to resolve all that emotional baggage just yet.  “When you’re ready, then,” he said, soft encouragement in his voice, kissing your forehead and releasing his hold on you. “Come, let's get you sorted. Your belongings are still soaked, we can get them all washed and dried,” he hummed, trying to cheer you up.  “I can do it at the hotel, when I find one,” you said, not wanting to trouble him.  “H-hotel?” he asked, “I hope I do not come across as too selfish but I would very much like you to stay here. If you’re receptive to that idea?”  “This is your home Ezra” you pointed out. “I don’t want to invade.”  “Nonsense, you are more than welcome. I know it’s not fancy like some of the hotels you can stay at, so I understand if you would choose one over my humble little apartment, but in all honesty I was hoping you would stay, if only for a short while.”  “What about Cee? This is her home too,” you pointed out, brows furrowed in worry. “I spoke to Birdie this morning before she left for school. She is more than happy to have you stay as well,” he said, folding up the blankets still thrown on the couch as best he could. “I made sure of that. I would never invite someone to stay if she was uncomfortable with the idea.”  “I don’t want to trouble you any further-” you started. “It’s no trouble, please Angel,” he said, cutting you off. “I am asking because I want to, and I am not ready to say goodbye to you yet, even if it is just for a few hours.You can even take my room-” “Keeva no, Ezra,” you sighed. “I’ll stay, alright. I don’t want to say goodbye just yet either, but I am not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own home.”  “I am quite alright with it Angel,” he said.  “Yeah right,” you scoffed. I can tell just by looking at that thing you don’t fit on it properly. I’m smaller, I'll actually fit on it. And that’s final,” you said poking him in the chest. He was about to protest again, ready to insist  but you interrupted him before he had a chance to voice himself. ”If you do not accept me sleeping on the couch I will go find a hotel,” you said, tone stern as you crossed your arms, challenging him to continue.  He sighed, giving up. Reluctantly letting you take the couch so you would stay. 

It felt good to have him back in your life, helping you once more, and you him, there was still a little tension between the two of you which you would have to talk about eventually, later, as you had agreed. For the time being, it was just nice to have him back. He helped you with all your wet clothes in his apartment buildings tiny laundry room, the two of you sitting opposite the running machines on the scuffed ground side by side as you waited, catching up. Absence had done nothing to wear at the connection you shared. He told you of the difficult process of becoming Cee’s legal guardian, the hoops he had to jump through. The desperate search for a stable job and apartment so he could provide for her. You felt another pang of guilt, having abandoned him in such a difficult time, but he assured you he felt no ill will. He now had 2 jobs, one meaneal labour job that wasn’t so difficult he couldn’t do it with one arm, and another at the spaceport you had just departed from, he was essentially a security guard. It was basic work, he had told you, nothing he took particular pride or passion in, just something to pay the bills and provide for Cee until she went to college. He confessed just how much he missed prospecting, he chased that thrill of a good harvest just as you did. He begged you to tell him tales of your last exploit back out into the stars. “Sorry Ezra, my last job was far from a thrilling adventure” you huffed, amused. “No gems or exciting digs. Just backbreaking labour to mine some standard ore, and help a research team dig up a newly discovered mineral.” “Angel, that sounds more than stimulating to me,” he said with a grin, stupid puppy dog eyes sparkling at you in hopes of a tale. “Tell me,” he urged excitedly, puppy dog eyes sparkling at you that you couldn’t resist. You sighed. “I don’t think I've ever been on a job so physically demanding. Nothing like the drops down to the Green. It was this huge team led by the researchers,” you explained, eyes cast down in thought as you tried to remember details. “It was… lonely,” you admitted casting your gaze down. “There was a potential for a pharmaceutical use for the mineral, it was difficult to collect, and fragile, so they hired big teams to collect as much as possible. Huge professional gig so everything was provided, and we got paid by the day as well as bonuses if we managed to collect more than the minimum requirement.” He whistled at that in awe. “Damn Angel, that sounds like that meant one hell of a payload when you were done then.” You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, not going to lie, it was a little boring compared to Aurelac harvesting, and difficult, but it was more than a decent pay,” you huffed in amusement before continuing. “The next one was basic, just, mining for ore. Standard kinda job, not one of the thrill seekers things either.” “We all get those kinds of jobs every now and then,” he nodded, leaning back and closing his eyes. You could imagine him reliving the memories of his former life behind those closed lids.  Playfully nudging his shoulder to get his attention, you grinned at him when he brought his wistful eyes to meet yours. “You’ll be back there, soon enough,” you encouraged. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I truly want that to happen, Angel,” he sighed, tearing his gaze away to stare off at the opposite wall. “I must confide that I have begun to fear my severed arm has proven to be far too arduous to deal with certain tasks. I have taught myself to become ambidextrous in my writing but there are things I have discovered are too… difficult to accomplish now that I am without part of myself.” You listened to his concern with an understanding smile before leaning against him, resting your cheek on his shoulder, looking up into his sorrowful eyes that were staring into the distance. “Do you remember when I told you it gets easier?” you asked, barely above a whisper, he glanced at you before nodding slightly, sighing as he did so. “I meant it,” you continued. “It will get easier Ezra, when you get a prosthetic, well then, the world better watch out.” You took his hand in both of yours, giving it an encouraging squeeze and smiling at him. “What if I can't?” he asked, brows furrowed in worry , giving away a hidden fear. “What if I do not bounce back? And I stay this broken shell of my former self?” You rolled your eyes, he was the dramatic sort sometimes. “Ezra, look at me,” you whispered as he tore his gaze away again, you cupped his face lightly to bring it back to you.  You weren't one to initiate physical affection from him, but his absence had made you crave it so much during your time apart, that you were willing to throw a little caution to the wind.   “You’re not some ‘shell’-” you started, cut off when huffed and rolled his own eyes, not agreeing with you. ”Hey now, I never knew you before this,” you gestured to his missing arm with one hand. ”I didn’t know Ezra before, I only know this Ezra." To underline that, you poked him in the chest with a single finger. "And I like this Ezra.” You playfully flicked his forehead afterwards, laughing as he pouted at you. “Don’t pout at me like that, mister,” you snickered as he rubbed his forehead. “Look, ok, I don't think you're this shell, in fact, I wish I could express just how amazing I think you are, Ezra,” you started again, shy smile on your face. “But I know how you’re feeling, I’ve been there too, remember? I’m just like you. So if you’re having any self deprecating thoughts because you’re an amputee, then I'm afraid I will have to take that as a personal offence, because if you’re less of a man for losing your arm, then by that logic, I’m less of a woman for losing my leg.” Raising your chin at him, you stared him in the eyes, challenge written in your face. He looked at you, aghast, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. “Angel, I would never think that way of you-” “Good, then you can’t think that way about yourself either. It’s not allowed,” you said sternly, not allowing him any room to argue. “You lost an arm, so what? It’s a part of your life now and you just have to deal with it.“  He queried his brow at you.  “I think I prefer your gentle consolations over this,” he mumbled, making you snort with laughter.  “Sometimes, it helps to have a dose of reality. Recovery is a long process and it can’t always be soft encouragement. Sometimes it’s better to give you a shove than to hold your hand,” you said, letting go of his hand to empathize the point. “I like when you hold my hand, Angel,” he whispered, hand reaching to take yours back but hesitated. “Makes me feel safer than I have felt in a long time,” he said, you weren't sure if he was talking metaphorically or not, but either way it made your stomach flip.   “Well,” you began, feeling a little flushed over his innocent little comment, voice pitched for a moment as you composed yourself. “You need a shove right now, but I hope me standing at the sidelines shouting that you can do it is a good enough substitute.”  “So long as you are there Angel, it's more than enough,” he smiled, resting his hand on your knee instead. The machines in front of you finally finished their cycles, bringing the two of you two back to reality. You smiled and patted his shoulder before getting up off the floor so you could remove the clothes from the machines.

You couldn’t remember being so happy since the last good day the two of you had spent together. He helped you hang up your clothes on a small drying frame in his apartment, he playfully waggled his eyebrows at you as he hung up your underwear, to which you were mortified and threw a wet sock at his smug face as he cracked up.

He had called in sick from work that morning, you later found out, so he could spend the whole day with you. You sat with him on his couch, chatting with him as if the two of you had never been separated. Cee returned home late afternoon, it warmed your heart to watch Ezra get up and greet her with a small hug and ask her about her day, offering her help with any homework she had. She said hi to you, a soft smile on her face as she made her way to her room to do her homework, refusing Ezras offer of help.

She emerged again close to dinner time, Ezra having ordered takeout to ‘celebrate’ your return. You were left alone together as Ezra went to collect your meals at the apartment gate. “It’s uh, really nice to see you again,” Cee said to fill in the slightly tense silence. The two of you never had a meaningful conversation with each other, accepting that the other just came with having Ezra in your life. “It’s nice to see you again too,” you said truthfully, giving her a soft smile. She shook her head, “no, i mean, yeah. It is nice to see you but I meant, I’m happy your back. Da- Ezra has been kinda mopey, since he last saw you. He’s happy again, is what I was trying to say. He’s missed you.” “I’ve missed him too,” you said, charmed that she cared so much for her adoptive father's happiness. “He hasn’t shut up about you you know?” she said rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly as she revealed something Ezra probably wouldn’t want her telling you. “He kept asking me what he could have done differently, or wondering what you were up to, he was really worried about you, not knowing where you were.” You felt a pang of guilt hit your chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt him Cee, I hope you know that.” “Yeah, I do,” she sighed. “ I wasn’t happy to see him so upset, but no one was angry at you. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, he’s happy now and you’re back together again.” “Together?” you balked. “W-we’re not together, just… friends. That’s all we are, friends,” you clarified feeling flustered and your face heating up. Cee snorted. “You’re just like him I swear-” she laughed , shaking her head as the front door opened and Ezra returned, brown paper bag in hand, declaring dinner was served with a cheerful tone. You didn’t have a chance to ask Cee what she meant, distracting yourself from your slightly flustered mind by helping Ezra serve and carry everything over to the couch where the two of you sat. Cee sitting adjacent from you on the floor, a content smile on her face as she watched Ezra happily chat with you while the three of you ate your meals.

TAG LIST @oloreaa​ @chaotic-noceur

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 01

Summary :

Based on @fedoraspooky​‘s Puppet AU.

Lukas is a student in need of money. He manages to find a job in a famous television studio as a stagehand. However, his situation changes greatly when the directors give him one of the main roles of a new TV show for children. Lukas has to fit into this new and unknown world, meeting all the other actors, all while dealing with his student life. What could possibly go wrong?

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/57259018

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New fanfiction on A Hat In Time ! I hope you're all well and safe in this very hard period.

I had started this fanfiction for a while and I figured that posting it might help to make me write more. I work a lot with motivation/encouragement, so posting it might be one of the best ways to motivate myself.Anyway, I hope you'll like this story! :D

Don't hesitate to leave me a comment/like/reblog if you do, it'll help me a lot!

Happy reading !

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Chapter 1 - “What the absolute fuck?”

Lukas Pryce had seen many strange things in his short life, especially as a college student: people doing incredibly stupid stuff during parties (not that he went to a lot of them), students watching porn in the lecture halls, wandering drunk students in the middle of the night… But this right there? This was way weirder than anything he had ever seen before.

“What the absolute fuck?” thought he young student, as he tried to take in the sight in front of him.

He was standing up in an entrance hall of a famous movie studio, the Dead Bird Movie Studio. To be honest, Lukas never really understood where the name came from and never really thought much about it until more recent events. All he used to know was that they made a lot of stuff, from movies to TV shows, and even musicals! It was strange to think that a single studio could manage such different genres and still doing a good job with them. The student never thought he would ever step in a place like this, but his life had recently taken a route very different than what he expected.

Several persons were running in front of him, most of them carrying fire extinguishers. A fire had apparently started in the middle of a shooting and smoke could be seen through the doors leading to the filming stage. No one was noticing him, as they were all preoccupied with the current situation, and Lukas almost thought about leaving. But he couldn’t, as much as he wanted to.

Being a college student, especially a law student, was hard. In a system where students were in debt and had to pay a lot of things, Lukas couldn’t afford to lose one of the only job opportunities he could get in his two years spent at the university. While he did have nice parents who helped him to fund his studies, he didn’t like the idea of depending too much on them, especially on studies which were quite expensive.

So, yeah, he needed the money too much to consider leaving.

Lukas tried to get closer to the people, hoping to stop someone long enough to know if he should wait and come back later. Well, it did seem like the most reasonable solution, yes, but he had lost too many job positions because of his hesitation. Maybe he would look like a complete idiot, but if it meant he would get this job, then, he didn’t care!

-“Hum, excuse me?” he asked, as he managed to grab a someone’s arm, stopping them from doing whatever people did in case of fire emergencies. It was a blond man in his forties, and he was very much angry from the sudden interruption.

-“What are you doing? Let go of me, there’s a fire in there!”

Lukas tried to get more of him, but the man pulled his arm from the student’s hand, who didn’t really know what to do with himself. It was a bad time to go to this job interview, after all.

“Maybe I should just leave and go back later?” he thought quickly, turning away from the reception desk. He could call the studio later to reschedule the interview. Sure, Lukas never liked phone calls in the first place, but hey, what can you do against a fire emergency? It was better to leave this place, call back later and have another chance next week. Or at least, he hoped so.

However, before he could push the exit door, two voices interrupted him. While most of his surroundings were loud and full of agitation, these voices were even louder, cutting short all of Lukas’s inner monologue. The young student stopped in his tracks and threw a glance behind him, more than curious about what was happening on the other side of the room.

Two figures entered the room, apparently arguing with each other in the most intense way. One was a tall and sturdy black man, while the other was an older and smaller blond man. The former was wearing a set of very excentric clothing, while the latter was wearing a black costume, as well as a black cap on his head, which was hiding his eyes underneath. Both made big gestures with their arms, as they bickered. Something about them felt really familiar to Lukas who, for a brief moment, didn’t understand why. It was only when he heard their voices through the general brouhaha that he remembered: they were the famous directors of the Dead Bird Movie studio!

-“Was it really necessary to have that many sparks in the last scene?!” asked the sturdy man -DJ Grooves-, pointing the smoke coming into the room with both hands.

-“Of course it was!” replied the older one, much louder, stomping his foot on the ground. This was the Conductor. It wasn’t his real name but the old director never accepted to tell his real name to the media. He was mostly known as “The Conductor” and all of his movies were signed this way. Well, so were DJ Grooves’s, but the latter’s real name usually appeared somewhere in the credits.

They had recently started to work together on several projects and, while those became extremely famous blockbusters, it was said the two directors had problems working together in the past. It had seemed to improve through the years, but Lukas remembered reading an article somewhere, dealing with the direction problem on their latest movie at the time. While they were both very competent, they also had very different ideas and visions about movie-making, which made the filming quite difficult sometimes.

The argument kept going despite the agitation around them. In fact, most of the people in the room were avoiding them, by distancing themselves as much as possible from the duo, passing from one side to the room to the others by doing a detour in order not to be noticed.

-“It was? Darling, everything caught fire! I know you like action, but this was way too much!”

-“Pfff, as if you knew the basics of action movies! I know what action scenes need! Mind your own part of the movie, the music!” he said, putting a strong and ironical emphasis on the last word, as if he was mocking it. Which, in retrospect, was probably the case.

-“Excuse me? Conductor, darling, we talked about this: music is as important as action! A movie without any good music is worthless, just as it is without good and measured action!”

The bickering continued for a while and Lukas couldn’t help but stare at the two directors. They didn’t seem to hate each other as much as they did in the past, at least from what he had seen on TV, but it was quite impressive nonetheless. They both had strong personalities and those didn’t mix well together.

Lukas didn’t know what to do. He instinctively opened his shoulder back to take the job poster out of it. It was about a stagehand position, which didn’t need a lot of experience. It demanded to know how to fix set materials and to know how to sew -which he did-, nothing hard, really. What matters was the pay at the end of the month, pay he very much needed for his studies.

He hesitated a moment: should he step in? Most of the people here seemed to avoid them as much as possible, maybe there was a reason for that? However, if he didn’t do anything, he would get back home without any more job than before. What if someone showed up not long after he left and got the job? He didn’t want to take the risk.

Lukas needed that money.

The student took a deep breath and walked towards the two bickering directors, feeling his heart sink in his chest. Not only was he approaching celebrities, but he was also going to interrupt them to ask for a job! In a way, this was an extremely bold move, which contrasted tremendously from his usual behaviour. In any other situation, he would have chosen to leave, not to bother them, try later… But he wanted this job and he was ready to step out of his comfort zone to get it!

He finally arrived next to the two men, who absolutely didn’t notice him in the least, continuing their previous argument about the (un)necessity of using such or such pyrotechnic. Lukas felt eyes land on him: some workers seemed to notice his intent of interrupting the two directors and silently shook their head in his direction, telling him to give up, that he would end up regretting doing it eventually.

But the student didn’t listen. Instead, he cleared his throat, first once, then twice, this time a bit louder. The two directors immediately stopped talking and turned in his direction, surprised by the sudden interruption.

-“Hum… Excuse me, I- I saw that you were looking for a stagehand and I‌ came for the interview,” he started, unsure. Lukas wasn’t afraid to approach people, usually. But this wasn’t a usual situation: he was facing two famous movie directors! And interrupting them in an argument during a fire emergency!

… Suddenly, the whole thing didn’t seem like a good idea anymore.

The two men were now staring at him, probably not knowing how to answer. Lukas felt very nervous, being stared at that way. He felt like they were examining him from top to bottom, as if he was just an object.

All of a sudden, the Conductor let out a huge sigh and, still very much angry, quickly grabbed one of the fire extinguishers from someone’s hand. He then pushed it violently in the student’s arms:

-“You know what, fine, you’re hired!” said the old director curtly, before turning away to leave like a sulking child: “Go put out the fires with the others!”

Lukas remained unmoving, too shocked to react right away. Next to him, DJ Grooves let out a tired sigh, maybe because he was used to that kind of things. When the Conductor noticed Lukas’s non-reaction, he stomped his foot once again and pointed to the room from which came the smoke :

-“Now!”

Lukas jumped at the harsh order and turned to the stage room as fast as he could, extremely confused by what had just happened. Did he just… Get the job? That easily? There had to be a catch somewhere!

But here he was, passing through the door, only to find something on fire in the middle of the stage, surrounded by several people trying to put the fire out. Without thinking much, the student ran to meet them, almost falling down because of the weight of the fire extinguishers. No one seemed to notice him as they were all focused on the danger in front of them.

Lukas then joined their effort, disabling the safety lock on the device before spraying the fire.

Surely, this was just an exception… The working conditions weren’t going to be any weirder, were they? Lukas felt doubt growing in him, as the flames became weaker and weaker as seconds passed.

What did he get himself into?

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End of the first chapter ! I hope you enjoyed it ! :D

Chapter two is still a WIP at the moment, but that might change in the near future! My other fanfiction, Reliving An Old Nightmare, is my current priority, but I might continue this one if I'm in need of change! 

Thank you for reading !

Chapter 2 =>

[eorzeahomebound]

[ Maybe in another lifetime... ]

Rated: T

5.3 SPOILERS

Characters: Azem, WoL, Emet-Selch, Crystal Exarch, Hythlodaeus, OC

[ Maybe in another life... ]

He was always so quiet, so curious. Yet it was his spark of joy that made him shine brightly from the rest. He was known to crack his mask often, the cause a mystery that eluded even the man himself, who was often locked away in his own tower of literature. Opportunities to pursue research were once offered to him in abundance, yet he would decline, as if it were routine, and eventually he would be left to his own devices, peacefully recluse behind books piled so high that they would reach for the shining sky.

It wasn’t that he disliked the company of others; quite the contrary, he loved the exchange of ideas, every transaction a new discovery. It was simply that he sought to pursue topics that were of interest to someone else. Ever hoping for a chance to accompany her on her next journey, the man would find himself engrossed in Azem’s next rumoured pursuit, sometimes unseen by his colleagues for days.

“Cherub, you’ve forgotten to eat.”

A familiar gentle tone dance into his ear, the darkened world blurring into vision as his eyes fluttered open. Standing before him, Hythlodaeus chuckled, knowing this was not the first, nor would it be the last time he would find Cherub asleep at his desk, books featuring various types of grapes filled with notes and markers, showcasing a remarkable amount of meticulous research on this fruit alone. Hythlodaeus quietly placed a bowl of grapes on Cherub’s desk, chuckling as he made he way toward back to the Bureau. “Be mindful of your health, or you’ll make Azem worry, or perhaps even Emet-Selch.” His voice rang clear in Cherub’s memory as bit into the grapes, succulent and full of life.

-

It was one late night, guided by the soft glow of a candlelight that lead to their fateful encounter. Simply seeking a moment of respite, Emet-Selch had escaped from a long meeting with the Convocation, stealing away to the deepest recesses of Akadaemia Anyder. He sought refuge in the arboretum, a room filled with darkness and uninhabited by its caretakers, who would sleep as their subjects would. His footsteps echoing throughout the hall, he made his way toward the balcony, hoping to hide away in the solace of the abyssal night.

It wasn’t until the man seated himself onto a nearby bench did he notice the faint murmur of a familiar blue light behind what appeared to be a makeshift screen comprised of misplaced plant pots and crates. Emet-Selch curiously pursued the source of the light, expecting to find Azem once again experimenting with blue crystals. There had been rumours of a man with an often cracked mask declining invitations from even the most prominent of scholars in favour of working alone, and it was no surprise that Emet-Selch would come across him, ever seeking to avoid interpersonal conversation when possible. What fascinated him more was what he found on the man’s desk: various attempts at recreating a miniature glowing blue crystal accompanied by several crumpled pages of diagrams and scribbles. As his eyes gazed over the contents of the legible papers, he found schematics not only similar to Azem’s own, but notes on how to improve the original design.

Atop a pile of books laid the rumoured cracked mask, a chip hastily mended with some makeshift material. Emet-Selch noticed a journal underneath, some pages held open, and took a could moments to digest its contents. Multiple entries of what Azem has been researching or her latest endeavours. The man had written ideas of where her values would lie, and wrote letters of gratitude, citing that she had inspired him to continue pursuing his research. It was then that the Convocation member realized that this scholar had been instead pursuing all of Azem’s interests. The reason, however eluded him. The man decided to pursue no further as he heard whispers from within the Arboretum, beginning his stealthy escape back home.

In the following months, Emet-Selch had noticed many more encounters with the man. In the depths of the library, under bridges, high up in trees... Always lost in books or scribbling in his journal. They would never speak, their eyes occasionally meeting, but the scholar was always quick to don his chipped mask, especially in the presence of Azem, whom he watched from afar. Whenever he accompanied Azem, Emet-Selch took note of this admirer in his peripheral vision. But it would not end there. Emet-Selch found himself subconsciously seeking the scholar in his moments of solitude, annoyed that the anonymous admirer could be in the vicinity. Yet, he held a strange sense of respect for the man, ever engrossed in his work, in service only to Azem, to whom he had not uttered a single word. It was that perseverance that Emet-Selch applauded for only a moment before finally closing his eyes.

“Cherub, huh...”

*

Eternity passed in an instant, as if he had never lived at all. Time and time ahead did Emet-Selch guide those who had passed, longing for days of eld where peace could only be ended by upcoming thesis deadlines. It wasn’t until he found himself in the body of Solus zos Galvus did the Ascian once again counter traces of Cherub. He found himself wandering The First, curiously watching the Crystal Exarch build his safe haven in a world drowned in light, a fortress of life around the Crystal Tower. It emitted the same blue hue from all those years ago, perfected by Cherub himself, and now it stood tall, the sum of his findings, his research had come to fruition. It pierced the horizon, and like his books, reached for the shining sky.

In the lulls of his work, Emet-Selch found himself looking over to the tower from time to time, on occasion daring to near the vicinity to catch a glimpse of who could have been Cherub. He knew deep in his heart, however, that he was only a fragment of someone he scarcely knew, and that he would not remember anything about his past life... About Azem. It was a painful, yet expected outcome: outliving his allies, ever longing recreating a world that no longer existed. People that he cared for deeply... stars in the night that no longer existed in Norvandt. A light that drowned away his memories, hiding beneath the waves.

Then she came. Azem.

...Or what was left of her.

The sight appalled him for just a moment. In this lifetime, Cherub had found her. There was an indescribable feeling that welled within him. Was it relief? Satisfaction? Curiosity? Or was it jealousy? That this leftover of Azem would instead spend her days returning to this man who masqueraded as Cherub? He had to know. He had to make her remember that she once lived as a complete, perfect being. That was when he appeared to her.

Azem was always the kind of person to pursue as she wished. She was always surrounded by people, something he always loathed about her presence. She always chose the most absurd way to approach her problem, taking matters into her own hands, sometimes with the support of Hythlodaeus. Azem always did things differently ... but he never once faulted her for it. So instead, followed, even at the opposition of her company. Azem was never the type to turn away company, and that had not changed a single bit.

But traces of Cherub found themselves so deeply intertwined with the one called The Crystal Exarch. He would lock himself away for days, ceasing to eat in favour of assisting this fragmented Azem. He instead chose to support her, confidently leading the people of the Crystarium as a sign of hope. He would seek the consult of Azem’s party, something so different yet... so much like Cherub. That was when he watched the events of Mt. Gulg unfold, watching from a safe distance as Azem and her company would mark the fall of Vaulthry at her expense, her mortal body unable to contain the poisonous light that ate at her soul. How dare these pests use what was left of her, knowing well that she would ensure their safety, even if it meant putting her life on the line?!

Even so, Emet-Selch knew that she was not Azem and he was not Cherub. Still, that did not change what his heart desired.

A single gunshot.

With his eyes locked onto the back of The Crystal Exarch, he watched as his crimson robe began to stain with a deeper shade of blood. He knew her fragment would hate him. Her company would hate him. The Exarch would hate him. Knowing all this, he held a smile upon his lips. Yet, deep inside, he mourned gravely.

“Perhaps in another lifetime, I would have met you.”

His eyes were ever fixated on Cherub.

[bleached-d-soul]

Team ALAN: Lovely In-CON-veniences

Part 3 of Team ALAB commissions for @the-hapless-ace

This was a mistake.

When you join a terrorist organization, you have to learn how to sense danger before it occurs. You either learn to do it early or have to learn from experiences, sometimes not without the loss of some limbs and sanity. Adam should have know that when Ruby burst into their room with that creepy smile of hers, he should have run and hidden for a week or two.

The Vale Comic Con was an event not unknown to Adam, if only because he once considered it as a potential target for White Fang attack. And no, it wasn't because of the overwhelming amount of Ninja Catgirl cosplayers there. He simply hated the fetishism with reagrds to the faunus. Rehardless of that, he absolutely refused to go.

Unfortunately, he owed Weiss a date of her choosing. And just like the real Schnee, she refused to suffer alone.

"Oh my Gods, can we please take a picture?"

The decision came last moment. And since |Ruby refused to allow him to go there in his normal clothes, he had to make do with whatever stuff he had lying around. His old cloak without the rose emblem. His old mask without color marks. And of course, the black wig provided to him by Blake. Apparently, his ex couldn't miss the chance to get some laughs out of it.

"You look just like the Joker!"

"The clown?"

"No, from Persona series!"

"Ah, right."

He had no idea who that was. In a couple of moments, thankfully, that humiliation was over. Before he could get back to Weiss to give her another piece of his mind though, another couple of girls approached him. More pictures? Fine, whatever got that off his back.

"Can you take a rose from my hands with your mouth?"

Sure, whatever. Quickly, he did as asked. The girl ran away squealing.

"Can you cover your eyes with your hands, please?"

She did promise him to leave quickly so why not. The girl wandered off smiling.

"Can I sit in your lap?"

"Yeah, su-"

The ground shook. The air around them dropped a few degrees in temperature before the wall of ice separated him from the surprisingly large crowd of women. Were they under attack? Finally! Some chance to escape this madhouse and-

"Adam. Taurus."

The chilling and emotionless tone pierced through the air, his eyes drawn towards the source of it. Surrounded by ice and snow, in the middle of the hall stood none other than his girlfriend. And she was absolutely burning with rage, if only the giant Knight of white and blue looming over her was any indication.

"I leave for a few seconds and you are feeling up some other girls?"

What?

"I didn't do anything like that!" Was it really how it looked? He was just trying to get them off his back. It was either caving in to their demands or cutting them down. And it was her and Ruby that explicitly forbade him from killing the people he found annoying. "You know this is not my fault, right?"

Something clicked in Weiss' eyes. The semblance of clearance and understanding that promised him the peaceful resolution and the quiet for the rest of this already unpleasant and annoying day.

That promise died an ugly death as the girl's eyes lost any and all light and her lips stretched into an ugly smile.

One that promised only bloodshed and death.

"You are right... This is not your fault at all."

Good, maybe things weren't so bad.

"It is all these harlots that want you!"

...

Shit.

ALAB

"Yang, are you angry at me?"

"No."

"You look angry."

"I don't."

"Your hair is on fire and your eyes are burning red."

"And?"

Ren looked at his girlfriend's face, wondering what he should say. What he could even say when faced with this angry pout of hers. In many ways. Yang was just as emotionally broken as he was. She hid her abandonment issues and insecurities behind the cocky attitude and pride much like he hid his anger and pain behind the stoic and serene attitude.

But no matter how much they masked their fears and insecurities, those still existed and sometimes came to the surface in the most unfortunate of times. Just like their current situation.

"Sorry for getting us kicked out of that contest," Yang said as they sat down in a nearby cafe. It was a nice place and, thankfully, with only a few people. It was pretty early right now so most attendees must have been stuck buying merch and meeting all the celebrities that were here today. "I know I could have handled that... better than I did."

That was one way to put it.

Ren had little reservations about his body. And even though he was embarrassed with the outfit Yang picked for him, he grew comfortable with it very quickly. Yang herself said she wanted to show off her boyfriend's amazing body in that skintight outfit that consisted of only a shirt that covered his chest and a tight pair of shorts. And she did enjoy the jealous and hungry looks thrown his way.

For a total of ten minutes before she started frantically looking for something to cover him with.

She found nothing and so spent the last hour or so glaring at every woman that passed them by. It was fine, Ren told himself. Glaring and growling was fine as long as things didn't become physical. They eventually did, mostly because he couldn't help himself. Ren rarely indulged in things like video games or junk food like his friends. But when the chance to get the next edition of his favorite game came, he simply couldn't let this chance pass him by.

So he signed up even though Yang wasn't interested and got ready to win. It was all good and great for the first two stages. He was in the lead and, by the looks of it, would be coming home with the prize in his hand.

Then the third stage announced was the couple game. And unfortunately, for all the single ladies and gentlemen, they were paired up with random contestant. It was clear the stage was meant to see who could adapt the fastest and give the most coherent performance. He was lucky to draw the second strongest contestant for himself.

Who turned out to be Neon, the girl Yang fought just a few days ago.

He could have sworn he heard something snap. And when he looked at Yang... Well, he told himself she wouln't do anything drastic in the open.

And for the first few minutes, he was actually right. Their dance was energetic and synchronized, him acting as the strong and solid foundation for Neon's more flashy and bright moves.

The music came to an end, the crowd exploded with claps and whistles. They were going to win, for sure. That game was as good as his!

Then Neon delivered a loud and sharp slap across his ass.

And next thing he knew, the dancing contest turned into a huge catight.

"Ren?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you angry at me?"

"No."

"You look... Well, I never can tell but I would be angry if I were you."

"I am not though," a little bit upset. But not angry. "Plus, I am sure you are not going to-"

She was gone.

He turned to look at the trail of blazes left behind. The sound of an all too familiar laugh of one rollerblading huntress was the proof enough his day was about to become much louder and hotter.

ALAB

Mercury loved to drive the little Red crazy.

Call him an asshole but there was something incredibly satisfying about watching the girl so confident on the battlefield turn into a blushing stammering mess. Sometimes he would kiss her out in the open or flirt with her during the spar. She looked so cute when she was trying to take his head off with that scythe of hers while burning red as her cape.

Today was an exception, though.

Today it was him on the other end of the stick.

"C-Come on, Red, be reasonable here, please?" He was backed against the wall, the passers-by either ignoring them or taking pictures. Something about real-life Yandere of whatever the fuck those nimrods were whispering about. "R-Ruby, I swear to Gods, stay away from me with that marker!"

She dressed up as some superhero named... Flasher or whatever, he didn't pay much mind. He did, however, take the opportunity to show off his assets and get the girl all hot and bothered under that skintight suit of hers. Seriously, for the girl with so many reservations and social troubles, she seemed unaware of how many guys threw horny looks her way.

He did. And now those guys stayed far away from her.

Apparently, she was not as oblivious as he thought and noticed all the lustful and hungry looks. But only the ones that came from other girls towards him. Which brings us back to him, backed into the corner with his girlfriend trying to mark him of all things!

"I will be quick, Mercury, I promise!"

"That's a permanent marker, Ruby!"

"I am sure we can remove it later!"

"This doesn;t make it better!"

In hindsight, it was all his fault. He should have chosen something that could be actually zipped up. Instead he went dressed as this emo ninja with weird eyes powers who dressed like a stripper. And now Ruby wanted to write her name on his chest like some toy.

Sounded kinky but it wasn't!

"I will buy a bunch of strawberry cookies a-!"

"No!" She yelled, covering her ears. "You can't bribe if I can't hear you!"

An opening to exploit! Yes!

He rushed past her and into the crowd. Maybe he could snatch someone's cape or something? Before he could rob some poor sucker, the torpedo of rose petals smashed into him from behind. Positioning herself on the top of his stomach, Ruby showed no hesitation or shame as she breathed down his neck.

With the eyes full of the terrifying emotion and her smile so hollow it sent chills down his smile, Ruby whispered:

"Now they all will know you are mine and only mine!"

Her marker stabbed into his chest like a knife, marking him as her property and lover.

Somehow, he didn' feel so scared about it.

"Now let's go and show them all that you are mine!"

... And now he was.

ALAB

"Go and tell her she is ugly."

"I am not doing that."

"Fine, then the collar stays on."

"Ugh..."

Out of his entire team, Jaune was possibly the only one excited to come here. He never attended one of the major conventions since, well, his town didn't have any and he barely had the money to come here. So when Ruby won the total of eight passes here, he was ready to kiss her! Well, not really, since she was dating Mercury and that was violation of a bro code.

Also because he also had a girlfriend whom he liked a lot

Even if she could become a bit... possessive.

"Come on, this doesn't even make any sense for me to wear a collar! I am Leon Kennedy!" And Leon Kennedy was a badass that could never stay caught for that long. "Also Ada uses a giant crossbow and your weapon looks nothing like that."

"I don't give a shit, it was the costume the guy in the store recommended," Vernal scoffed as she tugged on his leash. Her eyes scanned the crowd like an expert predator. She saw a couple of nerds drooling over how tight the pants hugged her legs and ass. Heh, good time jerking off, losers. Then her eyes caught some girls drooling over how tight Jaune's pants hugged his ass and legs.

...

They would have to go. Not now, of course. Her boyfriend always got upset whenever she threatened other girls with violence, Gods know why though.

"V-Vernal, where are we going?"

"Just shut up and follow me, loverboy."

Vernal might have lived in Beacon now but she still lived by the laws of her tribe. And the law of the strong was simple back home: See. Want. Take.

The last part - about putting down anyone who tried to take something from you - was an unspoken rule, of course. Back in the tribe, it was the strongest who got the best food and stuff. Not because they were better at scavenging and stealing, but rather because they knew how to take something from others better. And Vernal knew that, if she allowed even one of the girls here approach her boyfriend, she would give everyone the signal she was soft.

Not happening.

"And now for the second place in our couples costu- Hey, ma'am, you are not supposed to-Oh! Wait, not in the face! Not in the face!"

The silence fell over the crowd.

All eyes were on them,

Vernal took the mic.

Jaune covered his face.

"Alright, listen up, all of you! I know that most of you here are losers with nothing better to do than dress up as leather-clad morons and bitches and think you are cool because you watched some Mistralian cartoons with lots of yelling. I also know that at least eighty per cent of you are fucking virgins desperate to get some and watching some camgirls dress up like your favorite cartoon girls drives you nuts," she ignored the death glares thrown her way. Jaune yelped as Vernal dragged him up and planted a deep wet kiss on his lips, invading his mouth with her tongue for the crowd to see. "Having said that, neither me nor MY boyfriend here are as lame you all. And if I see any of you bitches looking at my fucking man, remember-"

She spread her arms, showing her toned body for people to drink in.

"- this is what he enjoys every night. Remember that before looking at him next time!"

Vernal dropped the mic.

Then she grabbed him by the collar and began passionately marking him as hers.

Regardless of that, Jaune would cry as he would later find out he was banned from this convention for the foreseeable future.

Just like the rest of his and RWBY teams.

[seancerpg-archived]

THE DAME

Name: UTP

Age: 44 - 50

Pronouns: She/her

FC: Anika Noni Rose

BIOGRAPHY

tw - weapons, anxiety, war, parental loss

A wealthy heiress, She was born with the world at her feet. The eldest of a family of daughters, with no son to inherit the family riches, the burden of inheritance fell to her. It brought her many privileges in her life, advantages others of her sex could never dream of, and she had every intention of grasping every opportunity with both hands. She had dreams you see, plans for a future that lit a fire in her belly. She was going to be an architect, to establish a legacy of her own apart from her illustrious family name. They were infamous, you see, the kin in which she was born. They had made a name for themselves during the Napoleonic Wars manufacturing weapons, a legacy that only flourished during the later Crimean conflicts. As a child, she never really thought about the source of the family wealth much. It was just a fact of life, like the sky being blue, or the grass being green, it wasn't until both her parents, and all three of her younger siblings were killed in a freak accident did she really begin to think about it. The more she pondered on what had happened, the more she realised there was only one conclusion: A curse upon the money with which they had built their lives.

It made a certain sort of sense. After all, while they profited on the sales of their good, many had perished on the other end of them. Many souls had been sent to meet their maker whilst her family lived a genteel life of respectability. It wasn't right, not by a long shot. The more she thought about the prospect of the curse existing, the more it made sense. Throughout her life, there had been plenty of strange and unusual occurrences, too much bad luck for it to be purely coincidental. Whatever jinx had been put on her name, she grew more terrified by the day, to the point where she was constantly looking over her shoulder, always assessing her surroundings for signs of danger. She couldn't live like this - she had to act, to do something to put her worrisome mind to rest. The curse would get her eventually. There was no denying that, for she knew she couldn't hide forever, but neither was she ready to succumb to it. She needed more time. And so, she rolled up her sleeves, retreating into a home she had purchased in the centre of the city, and she began to build.

To an outsider, there was no logic to her blueprints. They were a mess, a twisted warren of rooms and corridors, tunnels and doors to nowhere. To her, though, they made perfect sense, everything designed meticulously rather than the random jumble it appeared to be. She'd chosen it this way for one reason alone. The dead could roam her halls for eternity, as the dead are wont to do, but they would never find her. Instead, they would wander in circles, lost and bewildered, their prize always out of reach. It wasn't supposed to go on forever. Originally, she thought she would complete her design and rest in peace, but once the last nail was hammered, the last lick of paint dry, peace didn't come. And so she carried on. Knocking down, rebuilding, rearranging and redecorating, her work is never done. She'll be damned if she leaves herself open to the curse that has claimed the lives of everyone she loves, even though a niggling voice at the back of her mind tells her that she has no choice in the matter.

THE GHOST

It stumbles blindly through the maze of her manor, her goal of confusing any spectres looking for her achieved. It seeks her desperately, but despite catching a whiff of her perfume here, a candle still smoking from being hastily snuffed out there, it can never quite catch up to her. She is always one step ahead, and that's alarming. In retaliation, they bang the walls in frustration, stamping their feet on the floors and making the very foundations of the house they're trapped in creak and move. She may not want to reveal her presence, but they will certainly do everything in their power to make theirs known to her. Perhaps one day, it will work in their advantage, drawing the fox from it's den and into their path.

CONNECTIONS

THE THESPIAN: If there is anybody who can take their mind off of their worries, it's him. It started the very first night she clapped eyes on him upon the stage, his talent moving her to tears. Since then, they've become good friends, despite knowing he'd be far safer if she kept him at arms length. She only ever meets him in public places, only ever when the sun is in the sky and daylight is upon them. She dreads to think who else may join their little gatherings if they met under the cover of darkness.

THE BUTLER: He knows what it is to be ostracised. Since she began her project, society has begun to turn its back on her, dismissing her as a strange woman with strange obsessions. She knows that after the nightmare that was his last employer, he struggled to put the pieces of his life back together, and though she doesn't keep any other household staff anymore, she reluctantly agreed to give him a chance. Since then, they've become more like brother and sister than employee and boss. He comes and goes as he pleases, and trusts her completely - and in turn, she trusts him back.

THE HATTER: She doesn't have time for luxuries anymore, but his work is so utterly exquisite that she cannot help herself. He doesn't ask questions, doesn't treat her any differently, like so many in her life do now, and that's what she likes most about him. He, too, has his secrets, an enigma she cannot unravel, even if she had the time to think about it. For now, she's happy to keep up an easy acquaintanceship, though perhaps one day, her curiosity will overwhelm her, demanding that she learn more about the mysterious man.

THE THIEF: He's been hanging around her home a lot lately, despite her attempts to warn him away. He's too bold, and too charming, for his own good, and clever, too, but what he wants with her, The Dame just cannot fathom. Still, it's nice to bask in his attentions every now and then, his easy charm reminding her of a time long since lost, long ago when the world was less complicated, and, slowly, she's beginning to open herself up to him, laying the foundations of a friendship that's she's sure is a bad idea.

THE DAME IS OPEN FOR APPLICATIONS

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Starting Over (3/?)

Summary: A Lost/Once Upon A Time crossover.Three years after leaving the island, Kate and Claire’s search for a quiet town in which to make their permanent home brings them to the peaceful idyll of Storybrooke, Maine, where new friendships are forged and new relationships tentatively kindled - although nothing is ever plain sailing.

Eventual Claire/Gold, Kate/Ruby, with appearances from lots of Lost and OUAT characters.

Rated: T

[One] [Two] [AO3]

====

Three

They were officially moved in. Well, sort of. Everything was reassembled and most of the things that had been inside boxes were no longer inside boxes. Everyone who had come to help them move had taken their leave and made their way back to their own homes, with promises to come and visit soon once Kate and Claire were settled in their new lives.

The only mess that really remained was in Kate’s bedroom, and she crouched on the floor in the midst of all the boxes, sitting back on her heels. She always hated unpacking. It never felt right, always leaving her worried that she was being lulled into a false sense of security. She had spent so much time on the run, always ready to leave a place at a moment’s notice, that actually unpacking and making a new room into a proper and permanent home always felt strange.

Deep down, she knew that was the reason why she hadn’t unpacked yet, and why she was making no move to unpack now. She’d put it off ever since the boxes of her possessions had been put into the room, always finding something else to do, tidying up the rest of the rooms in the house or distracting Aaron so that Claire and the others could get on with doing things without having him underfoot all the time.

Now though, Aaron had grown fractious and boisterous having spent so long cooped up indoors and being kept out of the way of moving furniture, and Claire had taken him out for a walk to try and work off some of his pent-up energy so that he could hopefully get a better night’s sleep than the previous couple and settle back into something that vaguely resembled routine. He would be starting at the elementary school in a couple of months and Kate and Claire wanted to make sure that he was absolutely ready with no lasting issues from their upheaval. The last thing that they needed was any stress from that quarter.

Kate sat down on the floor properly, surveying the boxes but not really seeing them. She couldn’t believe that Aaron was going to school. It didn’t seem a minute since she had sat with him in her lap at the press conference in Hawaii and told the world that he was hers, firmly believing every word that she said. It didn’t seem a minute since she had introduced him to Claire and said that he was going to have two mommies for a while. It didn’t seem a minute since she and Claire had decided that ‘a while’ was going to be ‘probably forever’, and Aaron was perfectly happy with having both his moms in his life all the time.

Life in Storybrooke was going to be different; she knew that, and she was prepared for it. Perhaps there was something in what James had said, about her having itchy feet. She only hoped that they wouldn’t get itchy again too soon, and she knew that the best way to keep roots down was actually to put them down in the first place.

Unpacking was going to be key to that, but in that moment, Kate didn’t think that she could face it just yet. They had really fallen on their feet with this place here and it hadn’t quite sunk in. The foreboding feeling of having found paradise only to have it swept out from under her feet again was still there, and she didn’t know how to get rid of it. It wasn’t something that she felt that she could discuss with Claire, because Claire had never known it herself.

Kate jumped up to her feet and left the room. She needed a break from unpacking before she started tackling her own room and the things that were personal, the things that she would never want to leave behind if she did have to leave in a hurry. Sustenance was required, and a breath of fresh air. Now that she didn’t have Aaron as an excuse to distract her, she was going to have to go it alone, and to that end, she found herself wending her way in the direction of the diner. It was a homey place, and the food and drink there were certainly excellent, but she’d never really spent much time in there whilst they’d been staying on their reconnaissance mission. She and Claire had been too preoccupied with house-hunting and Aaron to give much mind to what was going on in the rest of the town, but this seemed like a good opportunity to people-watch.

She slid onto a seat at the counter and ordered a coffee; the waitress who brought it over gave a huge smile.

“You’ve just moved into the empty place on Shell Drive, haven’t you?” she asked. “We saw the vans earlier. It’s a beautiful house; I’m glad that someone’s finally living there.”

Kate smiled. “Yeah, we’ve just come from New York.”

“Wanted to get away from the big city, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Well, as you’ll soon find out, Storybrooke’s about as far away from the big city as you can get. If there’s anything to be known, then you can find out about it here at the diner. Everyone comes in and out all the time. There isn’t really another gathering place. Well, there’s the Rabbit Hole if you like kind of seedy bars and hustling pool.”

Kate snorted. “I’ve got a kid, I don’t think that seedy bars and hustling pool are going to be on my radar for a while.”

“Well, if you ever do want a break, Violet Knight’s a great babysitter.”

“Thanks.” Kate took a sip of her coffee. Yes, Storybrooke was definitely the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else, and she wasn’t really sure how that was going to fare for her and Claire. It was quiet, certainly, but the quieter a place, the louder the whispers that could be passed between people.

She glanced around the diner at the other patrons in there; families, couples, individuals. None of them were paying her any attention despite her being the new girl in town and the natural source of gossip. Perhaps things wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’m Ruby, by the way.” The waitress held out her hand. “Sorry if I’m talking too much. It’s just nice when we get new faces in town. At this rate I’m going to scare them all away.”

“Kate.”

They shook hands, and Kate let Ruby top up her coffee.

“So, are you all unpacked?”

“Not yet. Mostly. It’s just my room. I swear Claire has more stuff than I do and I don’t know how she’s managed to get her room organised so quickly.” She turned her head on one side as she saw Ruby give her the briefest of funny looks. “Is something the matter?”

Ruby shook her head.

“No, just me being stupid and jumping to conclusions.” Kate raised an eyebrow, and she sighed and continued. “I’d assumed that you and Claire were, you know. Together. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Not at all, I mean, that’s just what I thought when I saw that you were moving in and had a kid together, I just��” She trailed off. “I’ll shut up now. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s ok. Claire and I aren’t a couple. We’re just friends who have a kid together. It’s a very long story.”

Not one that she was willing to share with someone she’d only just met. Both Kate and Claire were used to people mistaking them for a same-sex couple, and most of the time they didn’t bother making the correction, but since Ruby had brought the misunderstanding out into the open, she might as well set her straight.

“Ok.”

Ruby didn’t pry any further, and the talk turned to the town’s various attractions, mainly the extensive forest that surrounded the place and the ice cream parlour, until Kate realised just how long she’d been sitting at the counter and that Claire and Aaron would probably be arriving back at the house any minute to find her gone without trace.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” she said as she slipped off the stool and made her way out of the diner.

“Well, you can nearly always find me here if you want any more local wisdom. Or, you know, idiocy.” Ruby gestured around the diner, and Kate smiled. Despite her perky and upbeat demeanour, there was something in Ruby’s countenance that she recognised. She felt that she had found a kindred spirit of sorts. Ruby, Kate was certain, had some degree of itchy feet, but whilst Kate had had her taste of adventure and was now happy to settle down, Ruby was still waiting for her chance.

She thought about their conversation as she made her way home, and she really wished that she wasn’t fixating on the way that Ruby’s cheeks had gone as red as the streaks in her hair when she realised her mistake concerning Kate and Claire’s relationship. She had come to Storybrooke for peace and quiet and to start over, not to develop crushes on cute, chatty, and slightly flustered waitresses.

X

Wandering along with Aaron in the direction of home – at least she hoped it was the direction of home – Claire stopped outside an unassuming shop on the corner. Mr Gold, Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer.

When they had signed the lease and claimed the keys, they had done so in a small office in the town hall that was obviously not his regular working place but handy for getting documents notarised. This, she assumed, was her landlord’s usual place of work, and she thought back to what Desmond had said about him being a man with fingers in many pies.

“Aaron, I’m just going to pop in here for a minute,” she said, moving towards the door. Aaron followed her without comment, but he furrowed his brow as they passed the shop window.

“It looks kind of dark inside,” he said. “Is it open?”

“Well, the sign says it is. Let’s take a look.”

“Why?”

“Because I think that the man who owns our house is here, and I want to say hello to him.”

Aaron gave a good-natured shrug and followed her into the shop. Once she was inside, the tinkle of the traditional bell over the door still chiming in her ears, Claire had to rethink Aaron’s question. Why did she want to come in here and say hello to Mr Gold? It wasn’t as if they were anything more than acquaintances and she knew nothing about him. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him for a long time either; it was only two days since they had been assembling Aaron’s bed together. All the same, there was something about him that made her want to see him again and find out a little more about him and what he did in the town.

She told herself that it was so that she knew where to come if there were any problems with the house, not for any other more frivolous reason, and it was somewhat hypocritical that she wanted to know more about him when she categorically did not want him to know anything about her. She really didn’t want to scare him off.

Aaron had wandered away from her side to look at the glass display cabinets, stuffed to the brim with all kinds of collectibles, and Claire found herself still stationary in the doorway, wondering what she was going to do next and why she’d come in here in the first place.

It was a beautiful shop, she couldn’t deny that. Aaron was right, it was very dark inside and whilst that wasn’t exactly to her taste, it did give the place a sense of old-timey magic, as if she’d stepped back into the past as she’d come in through the door. There were nick-nacks everywhere, and she wondered how Mr Gold ever managed to find anything in here.

“Can I help you?”

The man in question’s voice brought her back into the present and Claire looked up to see him coming through the curtain that separated the shop off from the back room.

“No, just looking,” she said. “I saw your name over the door and thought, well…” She tailed off, because she wasn’t really sure what she’d thought.

Gold smiled. “That’s all right. Feel free to browse. How are you getting on?”

“We’re fine, thank you. All the furniture’s been reassembled so Kate and I aren’t sleeping on the living room floor anymore.”

“And how is your partner?”

“She’s doing fine. It’s a very different life from New York, that’s for sure.” It was blissfully quieter, for one thing. She hadn’t really noticed it until she had left the bustle of the city, but Claire realised now just how incredibly noisy New York had been. “And we’re not together, we’re just friends, and co-parents. It’s complicated.”

She wondered if she had said too much, but Gold just gave a nod of acceptance. God, this was awkward, why had she even come in here in the first place?

Luckily, or unluckily, she was saved from ruminating on her decisions any further by the metallic crash of something falling to the floor and Aaron’s small ‘oops’ from one of the display cabinets. Claire’s eyes widened, her hands flying to her mouth as she saw the clock that was now lying on the polished floorboards looking somewhat worse for wear.

“Aaron, be careful!” she squeaked, naturally too late. She looked over at Gold, mortified. “I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for the damage.”

“It’s all right,” Gold said. He came around the counter and limped over to the fallen clock, picking up the pieces and setting them on the counter. “It’s an easy fix, no harm done.” He hooked his cane into the crook of his elbow and beckoned Aaron closer; Claire followed him and watched, as enthralled as her son, as he slotted the pieces back into place and wound the clock up again so that it showed the right time.

“There we are, as good as new,” he said.

“Aaron, what do you say?”

“Sorry, Mr Gold.”

“It’s all right. My own son was always doing the same thing when he was your age. I can quite understand why, even I’m fascinated by most of the things in here and I own the place. You can touch anything that’s out on the side, it doesn’t matter if those things get dropped or broken. The valuable things are all safe in the cabinets. Like this one, see.”

He crouched down and pointed through the glass at the antique tea set that was on display there, delicate fine bone china that Claire would be scared to drink out of for fear of breaking it.

“It’s so pretty,” Aaron said, his voice full of admiration. “You like tea, Mommy Claire. Maybe you could get a tea set like this.”

“I tend to prefer my tea in as big a mug as I can get.” Claire laughed.

“Yeah, your morning tea mug is bigger than my head,” Aaron said, before losing interest in the tea set and moving away to look at some guitars that were mounted on the wall and thankfully out of his reach.

“It’s not that big!” Claire protested. She glanced over at Gold, but he was just smiling, and very obviously trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I understand,” he said, getting to his feet again. “I’m a tea drinker myself. The more the merrier.”

What separates us from these savage yanks if we can’t drink tea? Claire remembered Charlie’s words on the island, and smiled to herself.

“Do you have any plans yet?” Gold asked. “For what you’re going to do now that you’re here in the town?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought.”

Between the various transactions that were carried out on their behalf by Richard and the Others, she and Kate had enough money that they could afford not to work for a little while, and moving out of the city into a smaller town had certainly helped in that regard, but Claire knew that she couldn’t do nothing all day or she would go crazy again with nothing to occupy her mind. Kate had worked various little odd jobs throughout their stay in New York, letting Claire focus on her physical and mental recovery. Now though, Claire wanted to get back to as near to normal as possible.

“I like art,” she said. Art therapy was one thing that had helped her through the last three years, managing to get back to something that she’d enjoyed before the island. “If I could make some money doing that, then that would be my ideal life.”

“Well, I know you’ve only just rented one property from me, but I own empty studio space down by the docks if you ever want to think about it in the future.”

It seemed a big step, doing it properly and getting a studio, and not one that Claire was ready to take, but at the same time, it was nice to be thinking about the future.

It was nice to actually have a future to be able to think about.

They stayed in the shop for a little while longer, with Aaron asking multitudes of questions about all the various niche items that Mr Gold had on display. To his credit, the man answered every single one and showed no signs of being annoyed at the incessant interrogation. Well, if he had kids himself then he was probably used to it.

All the same, when they finally did leave the shop to go back home and see how Kate was getting on with the rest of her unpacking, Claire felt herself feeling a lot more at ease. The fact that their landlord was so good with Aaron made her foresee a much brighter future here. Their home was definitely a home, and Mr Gold, the man who would ultimately be the key to their happiness there, was on their side.

Claire thought again about what Frank had said the other day, about it being the start of a stereotypical grand romance. She’d already set the record straight that she and Kate weren’t a couple, but no doubt that would lead to some more awkward questions down the line as to what exactly they were if they weren’t together. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything, and she ought to have just let him continue in his misunderstanding.

Maybe there was something in her subconscious that had corrected the mistake purposefully because she wanted to let him know that she was single.

She shook herself crossly. This was not what she had come to Storybrooke to do. She wasn’t ready for anything like that. She probably wasn’t ever going to be ready for anything like that again. Mr Gold certainly wasn’t ready for her, if she put it that way.

Kate was still unpacking boxes in her room when they got back.

“Hey, did you have a good time?” she asked Aaron.

“Yep. We went to see Mr Gold and I broke a clock.”

Kate raised an eyebrow and Aaron quickly added: “he fixed it though.”

“That was good of him.” She looked over at Claire, who spread her hands.

“I was mortified,” she said. “But it was all fine. No matter what Granny at the diner may think of him, he’s great with kids. Well, he’s great with Aaron, so I’m assuming that extends to other kids.”

Kate didn’t say anything, but there was a slight smirk on her face that Claire wasn’t entirely sure that she liked the look of.

It was only later, once Aaron was in bed and they were sitting on the sofa together watching the end of a documentary that Kate actually acted on that little smirk.

“So, looks like we’ve both found little crushes today,” she said.

“I do not have a crush on Mr Gold!” Claire exclaimed, although as soon as the words were out of her mouth she wasn’t sure that they were entirely truthful. It wasn’t really a crush. It was more something that might turn into a crush. “He’s our landlord, it wouldn’t be right.” She paused. “Wait, who’ve you found?”

“I went to the diner for a break whilst I was unpacking. There’s a waitress there, Ruby. She’s really sweet.”

Claire grinned. “Well, I think that you’re probably on a better track than I am.”

“I don’t know. He seemed quite happy to help you with DIY, after all.”

They fell into silence, and Claire fell to thinking, wishing that love was not so completely out of her reach.