#I just don’t get it?? how can she find a sup offensive and not just try and talk about it???

[moriihana]

we can't fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || two: the obligatory "dabi gets hurt" one

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won't leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: dabi shows up with goodies for boo and nugget, then shows up later with a stab wound. you finally tell him about your quirk.

content: fluff, angst

warnings: child abuse, dabi threatening to kill the reader's parents, dabi got stabbed

word count: 1391 words

*previously known as "we can't fix each other (but we can heal our wounds together)"; i changed the title bc these assholes aint healin shit they're just being overall menaces

AO3 link

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Things continued on like that for a couple of months—Dabi showing up with Nugget in hand, trading quips with you, and leaving. After each visit, he seemed to stay longer and talk more. Dabi, while loath to admit it, began to look forward to finding the little shit in his apartment so he had an excuse to swing by. It wasn’t until you mentioned he was welcome to come by without Nugget that he began to do so.

“Oi, little mouse.” Dabi leaned against the doorframe, plastic bag in hand. You looked up from the notebook you were scribbling in. Nugget was curled up by your thigh and Boo had her head in your lap.

“Sup, pretty boy—what’s in the bag?” You gently nudged Boo’s head off your lap to get up—she huffed unhappily, tucking her nose under her tail. Dabi walked in and sat on the chair Nugget usually occupied, tossing the bag to you. You caught it and shuffled through the contents. “...did you steal treats for them?” You laughed a little. Boo’s head perked up at the word treat , her tail thumping on the mattress.

“Shut up,” Dabi grumbled without any real anger. “Thought they could use somethin’ nice.”

You smiled, shaking your head. Boo shoved her nose against your hand, jumping up a little bit for the treats. You laughed again, patting the dog on the head. “Alright, alright! I’ll give you your treats, silly girl.”

You distributed the different treats to Boo and Nugget, then put the containers in a cabinet out of Nugget’s reach. “...thanks, Dabi. I haven’t been able to get them anything extra recently.” 

“Don’t mention it,” he said gruffly, scratching Boo under her chin. Nugget got up from his spot on the mattress to hop up in Dabi’s lap and curl up. You smiled softly at the sight, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“Sometimes I think they like you more than me, pretty boy,” you huffed, crossing your arms. Dabi shrugged, a smirk tugging at his staples.

“Can’t help that I’m practically a furnace, doll.” Dabi watched Boo wander off to curl up in a sunny spot, tucking her nose back under her tail. “Steal a space heater or somethin’, I dunno.”

You snorted. “I don’t think I’m capable of stealing a space heater. It’s hard enough stealing food when I’m nineteen and using a cane to get around. Y’know how many people stare at me?” You grumbled a bit. “‘s really annoying, honestly.”

“You and me both.” He gestured to himself, laughing bitterly. “Kinda hard to be discreet when you look like this.”

You shrugged. “At least you have an offensive Quirk. Someone threatens to rat you out, you could just toast ‘em.”

“You suggestin’ I murder someone, doll?” Dabi drawled. “I’m surprised. Here I thought you didn’t have any teeth.”

You barked out a laugh, startling Nugget and Boo. You apologised to both of them before directing your attention back to Dabi. “I wouldn’t have survived a month out here without teeth, pretty boy. Someone like me gets targeted for appearing weak. I haven’t killed anyone, though, in case you’re wondering.” You hopped up to sit on the counter, swinging your legs a bit. “I usually take Boo out with me when I go out to find food. You wouldn’t know it, but she can be a vicious thing. Saved my life a couple times.”

He stared at you for a few moments, before a chuckle rumbled out of his chest. “You fascinate me, little mouse.”

“I live to be an enigma to all.” You winked, earning a genuine laugh from Dabi. Your cheeks warmed at the sound. The man smirked, but said nothing about it.

“I should get goin’.” Dabi lifted Nugget off his lap and set him onto the floor, then stood and stretched. You raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Ya got some side business I don’t know about, pretty boy?” You asked, sliding off the counter. 

“Somethin’ like that,” Dabi said as he walked out. You huffed, shaking your head.

“See ya around, Dabi.”

It was around midnight when you heard a crash, followed by Dabi wheezing out swears. You scrambled up to flick on the light, barely biting back a startled gasp at the state of your friend—his white shirt had blood staining it, seeping out from under his hand. While it wasn’t unusual for him to turn up with a couple cuts or bruises, this was new.

“Heya doll,” Dabi grinned lopsidedly, wincing. “I ran into a bit of trouble.”

“A bit? Fucking—Dabi, were you stabbed? What the fuck, man?” You hissed, grabbing his shoulders to sit him down and crouching in front of him. “Okay. Actually. I don’t care. Shirt off.” 

“If you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just sai—ow!” Dabi was cut off by you smacking him on the back of the head. “Fine, fine, jeez—” He pulled his shirt off, letting you assess the damage.

“Shit, dude, who’d you piss off?” You grumbled, shaking your head. He had a stab wound in his side, and it was deeper than you initially thought—he was losing blood pretty fast. “Fuck, alright. First-aid kit isn’t gonna fix this. Dammit,” you mumbled to yourself as you placed your hand over the wound. A soft green glow emitted from your palm and the wound began to stitch itself together.

“Hang on, I thought you were Quirkless.” Dabi immediately questioned, grabbing your wrist once his wound had healed. You grunted and coughed up some blood, startling him. “Why are you coughing up blood.”

You held up a finger, wheezing. Once you caught your breath, you sat back on your heels. “About that,” you began with a sheepish grin, wiping the blood away from your mouth, “I was just… pretending. That I didn’t have a Quirk.” Your smile dropped and you sighed. “I’m sorry. I just… I was scared.”

Dabi looked confused, shaking his head as his brow furrowed. “Scared of what, doll?” You caught the hurt under his voice, and were quick to respond.

“Not of you, I swear. I… my Quirk is Regenerative Absorption. I can heal wounds and absorb pain into my own body. I was late developing it, so I was officially registered Quirkless since I was already eight and didn’t have a Quirk. A couple months later, my eye turned green. I’d gotten a Quirk.

“My dad… he dealt with chronic pain. He had me absorbing the pain. Mom let it happen. They punished me whenever I would refuse. Neither of them let me reregister my Quirk. It kept me from being able to report that they were abusing it—though nobody ever did anything for the child abuse reports, so it probably didn’t matter anyways. Eventually I gave up asking to be reregistered. I gave up fighting. 

“Then I turned eighteen and decided a decade of this shit was enough. Told them I was done. They kicked me out. I swore I wouldn’t let anybody take advantage of it anymore.” You smiled bitterly, shifting from your kneeled position into sitting cross-legged. 

“Fuckin’ bastards,” Dabi snarled. “Want me to torch ‘em? I’ll reduce them to fucking ashes, I swear—” 

You laughed a little. “Maybe one of these days, pretty boy—when we’re better off.” He grumbled at that, but relented. “Hey, if you were to get caught, Nugget would have nobody to torment for warmth.” You teased gently as you stood. 

You both knew what you meant.

If you were to get caught, I would have nobody to talk to again.

Dabi put his rage away for another day. “Can’t have that, now can we, doll?” He drawled, getting up from his spot.

“Can you…stay? Tonight?” You asked, avoiding Dabi’s eyes. “Just to make sure you don’t keel over or something,” you added quickly. Please.

“...sure thing, doll. I’m sleepin’ on that dingy mattress with you, though. No way in hell I’m sleeping on the floor, and you ain’t, either.” He kicked off his boots, then walked over and plopped down onto the mattress. Boo side-eyed him for disturbing her, but settled back down. Nugget quickly found a spot on Dabi’s chest.

You smiled at the sight of your pets cuddling up next to Dabi, then turned out the light and laid down beside him. “G’night, Dabi,” you said softly.

“Night, little mouse.”

[cyncerity]

TOMMY FINALLY TALKING TO RANBOO FOR THE FIRST TIME LIKE “sup motherfucker give me my damn house back” ranboos like THIS LITTLE DUDE IS ALIVE?!? Tommy’s like that isn’t important rn give me my home

(I have a feeling these asks were sent by the same person, but if they weren’t it’s kinda funny they were sent at the same time and have the same writing style lmao)

Ranboo would freak out, definitely. He’s definitely noticed this weird doll that Tubbo always carries around, but he hasn’t ever mentioned it. He’s just kind of learned to live with its existence. Even if he thinks he’s going crazy cause the dolls expression keeps changing. So yeah, let’s have Ranboo meet Tommy >:)

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Just close your eyes and hold out your hands! It’s not that hard, bossman.”

Ranboo begrudgingly squeezed his eyes shut and held out his open palms. It’s not as if he didn’t trust Tubbo, it’s just that Tubbo could be…weird, and he was a bit nervous for his “surprise.” Ok, maybe more than a bit.

…

In all fairness, screaming might not have been the right response. But what else was Ranboo supposed to do with the talking doll in front of him? He hadn’t tried to scream, it was a natural reaction! It definitely wasn’t what Ranboo had in mind when Tubbo had said he wanted to “show him something cool”.

Tubbos hands went immediately over Ranboo’s eyes and mouth, at which point Ranboo heard the same, unfamiliar voice he had heard earlier mumble “fuckin rude” before Tubbo whispered to him. “Shhh! We don’t need to call extra attention to ourselves, do you want your brother to come in here! What the hell?”

Ranboo dropped the doll on his lap and pried Tubbos hands off his face. “What do you mean ‘what the hell’?? That-“ Ranboo pointed to the doll, which was now on his lap, crossing its arms and staring at him, and not moving, strangely enough, “just talked! I should be the one asking you ‘what the hell’! Why’s it alive?!”

“First of all, he’s not an ‘it,’ he’s a ‘he.’ And his name is Tommy. Second of all, hes my other best friend, so you’d better get used to him. And the only way to do that is to talk to him.” Ranboo grumbled at Tubbo before picking up the doll in a fist and holding it up. “Tommy” just continued to stare at Ranboo, and it clicked to Ranboo that the doll hadn’t moved at all since he dropped him. Maybe it wasn’t the doll that had been talking, maybe it was something else? Had he been wrong? Ranboo looked back at Tubbo, exasperated.

“It looks like your ‘friend’ doesn’t want to make much of an effort towards friendship either.” Tubbo rolled his eyes and sighed. “You have to close your eyes, big man. He can’t move or talk if anyone’s looking at him.” “This has to be a prank-“ “Just do it!!” Ranboo huffed in frustration and closed his eyes again.

The doll spoke out again almost immediately. “Fucking finally!” Tommy shouted before sighing as he saw Ranboo’s jaw drop and his eyebrows raise. “Ranboo, listen, the whole ‘eye contact’ thing is a long story, and why I’m alive is an even longer story, but I need to know if you still have that dollhouse that your therapist sold you.” Ranboo thought about it for a bit before putting the pieces together. “…I took your house, didn’t I?”

“Not necessarily,” Tubbo said. “I told Aunt Puffy she could sell it before I found out that the dolls that lived there were alive. So they’re kinda homeless. We didn’t even want to tell you in the first place. No offense, but you seem pretty stressed out, and memory problems and cursed dolls don’t mix well.” Ranboo only had a short amount of time to linger on the guilt in Tubbos voice before the doll piped up again. “The problem is, we don’t know how to get the house back into Tubbos basement without looking suspicious. Tubbo’s dad has turned the basement, where the house was, into his personal office, anyways. Neither of us want his family questioning why he would suddenly want the house back, since we’re not sure how they would respond to living dolls-“ “Wait, dolls? As in more than just you?” Ranboo interrupted. “Yes, more than just me, keep up, dumbass. Anyways, my family wanted to just move here since they don’t have any particular attachment to Tubbo. And it’s not like I do, Tubbos the clingy one, not me, it’s just that your brother is terrifying and our last meeting didn’t go…great. So your house is out. Any other ideas?”

Ranboo didn’t know what the doll was talking about until he recalled the last time Tubbo had brought the blonde doll to his house. At the time, Ranboo had found it odd that Dream playfully tossing the doll around had resulted in Tubbo almost breaking down in tears, but he now understood how badly that could’ve ended.

“Dream didn’t mean it like that, he couldn’t have known, I’m sorry-“ Ranboo said before being interrupted by the voice again. “I don’t need you to be sorry, I need you to think! What the hell do we do about this?”

“Actually, uuuhhhh…” “Tommy.” Ranboo nodded quickly before returning to his thoughts. “Actually, Tommy, I might have an idea…”

~~~~~~~~

“So why are we here exactly?” Wilbur said. Tommy had left everyone extremely confused after he spontaneously decided to gather everyone for a family meeting, only to direct them onto the floor and say “follow me.” They had assumed Tommy wanted to talk more about their house after he told them they couldn’t get it back nor live in Ranboo’s house, but instead they now found themselves walking down the hallway towards god knows where. It’s not exactly like they had bothered to explore the house.

“Tommy, this is risky.” Techno muttered. “What if the humans come down the hall?” “It’s 3:30 in the morning, Blade, we’ll be fine.” Tommy retorted.

“I have to agree with Techno on this one, Toms. This is really risky.” Phil said. “It’ll be worth it, I promise, just follow me!” Tommy began to walk faster towards wherever as the rest of the SBI looked at each other and sighed before catching up to Tommy.

After a few more minutes of walking, the dolls came upon a door. Tommy knocked on it a few times before it swung backwards and he ushered his family in in front of him. The three of them looked up and froze, for once not because of someone’s stare, but from shock.

Above them stood Tubbo and Ranboo, doing their best to plaster shingles and mini columns to a model doll house that sat on a table. It looked like a sort of log cabin, complete with fake snow, but was so much bigger than their previous house. It took up half the room, and the half it didn’t take up was paved with wires that seemed to spout from the bottom of the house.

“What- what is this?” Phil gaped. “We felt really bad that we couldn’t get your house back, so we wanted to make up for it!” Ranboo nodded along as Tubbo spoke, both continuing to keep their eyes off the dolls and locked on the mini mansion. “I told my aunt that me and Ranboo should do some sort of ‘therapeutic bonding activity,’ which she bought. So we looked around a bunch for doll houses that would be correct to your size, but we couldn’t find any that where exact. So I had my friend Foolish 3D print out some custom walls and stuff. And we ordered the rest of the furniture and other supplies on Amazon.”

“Well, not all of it.” Ranboo said. “We still wanted your input on what it should look like on the inside. There’s all sorts of furniture and mini wallpapers we can buy online or make ourselves.”

“The electricity was a bitch, though,” Tubbo interjects, gesturing to the mess of wires on the floor. “Just be thankful you’ve got automatic lights and a heating system. We didn’t really see the need for running water or a tiny fridge, though, since you guys don’t seem to need food or showers.” Phil, Wilbur, and Techno looked on in varying levels of excitement and awe as Tommy looked at them with a proud smirk on his face. Phil looked over to his son, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, before he pulled Tommy into a tight hug, Wilbur and surprisingly Techno shortly after.

“Well,” Wilbur said, “looks like we’ve got a few decisions to make here.”

To say Schlatt and Puffy were confused when they walked in in the morning to find Ranboo and Tubbo passed out over the mini house, dolls strewn about the room, and over a hundred online orders of different fabrics, stickers, and doll furniture would be an understatement.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Don’t Tell Your Brother

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (this one’s got a bad word in it lol XD)

Original Idea: These kinds of stories are always fun. Either best friend’s big brother or big brother’s best friend... yeah, I’m weak for it. XD

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is short but sweet. At about 1,200 words, this is about the length a lot of my older one-shots were before everything started getting carried away. I’ve had it in my head for several days and finally got it written down. @jason-redhood @welovegroot

^^^^^

Knock-knock-knock!

Jason looked up from his book. $#!+, did Bruce find this place? he thought. He got up and crept to the door and looked through the peephole.

Worse. It’s Roy’s kid sister, he thought. I know you’ve liked her forever but she’s still your best friend’s little sister. And said best friend will murder your face off if he catches you flirting with her. Be cool but friendly and don’t flirt. Say something like, “Hey Harper, how you been?”

He opened the door. “Sup, brat?”

Aaand you blew it. Great job, Todd.

—

I smirked. “Not much, how about you—dick?”

“Dick’s my brother’s name. I’m Jason,” he teased.

“Oh I know. If I wanted to insult you by calling you one of your brothers’ names I’d call you Tim.”

He paused. Offense crept over his expression. “That world work,” he admitted.

Both of us laughed. He leaned against the doorframe. “So I’m guessing you’re looking for Roy?”

“Guessed right. Seen him?”

“He’s passed out in the spare room, sleeping off a hangover.”

My face dropped. “Has he been drinking again?”

Jason hunched his shoulders and cringed guiltily. “Well… it was my birthday like a month ago and Roy couldn’t come to Gotham to celebrate with me so since he was dropping by we decided to…” He cleared his throat. “Well. We went to karaoke.”

I snorted so hard I hurt my throat. “Karaoke. You took my tone-deaf brother to karaoke?”

“In my defense it was one of those private room places. So no one had to hear it. And the tablet that lets you pick the songs also lets you order drinks from the front. We thought we’d just get a margarita and call it good; but Roy ordered me another one for my birthday and after that we lost track. I tend to hold my liquor better than he does, so… yeah he’s sleeping off a hangover and I’m not as bad.” He shrugged. “Come on in. Let me get you something to drink. Water? Tea? Soda? Coffee?”

“Water’s fine,” I said. Jason let me into his apartment and I stood awkwardly on the welcome mat.

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable!” He waved toward the sofa as he walked to the kitchen.

I stared at his back. His blue T-shirt stretched taut between his shoulder blades. The way his jeans hugged his thighs tight enough to show off his muscles but loose enough to be comfortable.

I stumbled to the couch and sat down. Get a hold of yourself, Harper, I thought harshly. He’s your brother’s best friend! It doesn’t matter how hot you think he is—Roy will kill you if he catches you flirting with him!

Jason came and sat on the other end of the sofa, handing me a water bottle. “Alright. I gotta ask. Batman doesn’t even know I have this place. How did you?” He draped his arm over the back of the sofa so his hand was inches from my shoulder.

“Roy told me. Said if he went MIA and didn’t check in I should look for him in a couple different places. I knew he was in Gotham so I figured I’d check here. I haven’t heard from him in almost a day so I came running. Wanted to make sure he wasn’t, you know, dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Nah. Not on my watch.” Jason fixed me with a stare. “You’re a good sister to him, brat.”

I snorted. “Do you ever change?” I asked. “Always mean to me!”

“I’m not mean to you—I’m teasing you. I’m a big brother too, I know the difference.”

“You absolutely do not. I’ve watched the way your family works. All of you were an only child before being thrown together as siblings and none of you inherently knew how to handle it. I was adopted too—but since it was when I was a baby and Roy was little he learned how to be a brother fast and I never knew anything but being a little sister. Believe me when I say, you’re not teasing. You’re being mean.”

Jason lounged with a characteristic devil-may-care posture. “Well. Maybe I’d like to be nice to you but I’m scared that if your brother saw me being nice he’d misconstrue it as flirting and murder my face off. Did that ever occur to you?”

“Why would it?” I retorted. “You’ve never been nice to me. Mildly friendly when Roy’s not around maybe, but never nice. Doesn’t matter how hot you are if your personality is that of a—” I cut myself off and swore under my breath as an impish smirk started pulling on Jason’s face. “That didn’t come out right. What I meant was—”

“Little Harper thinks I’m hot,” Jason interrupted, tone full of relish.

I rolled my eyes. “This was a mistake. Tell Roy I’m staying at Daisy’s.” I got up and stalked to the door.

Jason somehow beat me to it, blocking my path. The guy had to be over two-hundred pounds. No way I could shove him out of the way. I was strong for my size—but not that strong. Not when his feet were planted like that. “Come on, Harper. I’m just messing with you.” He was still smirking, arms crossed over his chest in the way boys did to make their arm muscles look bigger. I wondered, vaguely, if his shirt sleeves hurt him where they were digging into his muscles at the seams.

“Let me out,” I said flatly. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Jason sighed, dropping his arms and pushing his hands into his pockets. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I run my mouth a lot. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.” He huffed. “Can I tell you something?”

“I have no choice. I can’t leave. You’re in the way.”

Jason glanced at the ceiling with a tiny smile. “True.” His expression turned grave. “Truth of the matter is, I find you… really attractive. Have ever since we first met.” If it weren’t Jason Todd, I would have thought his face was turning red. “I guess you could say I have a crush on you. I just never said anything because I know Roy wouldn’t approve.”

“You’d think he would,” I remarked. “You’d think he’d know both of us well enough to know whether or not we’d actually work well with one another.”

“You’d think,” Jason said.

Well, he admitted it first. Nothing to lose now, I thought. “For what it’s worth,” I said, “I have a crush on you, too.”

His face lit up. “Really?” I nodded. He gathered me into a hug. “That’s all I could have ever hoped for.” He glanced over the top of my head toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms, then looked back at me. “Can… can I kiss you?” He bit his lower lip, looking awkward.

I smiled. “You can,” I said with a smile.

Beaming, he leaned down. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “Don’t tell your brother.”

Then he was kissing me. His body was warm where he was pressed against me and his lips were soft. I took a deep breath through my nose as I wrapped my arms around him, eyelids fluttering closed. He smelled musky and a bit citrus-y and I could taste his chapstick. Vanilla, if I wasn’t mistaken.

Our arms tightened around one another. Jason tilted his head for a better angle and cooed softly. I sighed. Content.

He pulled away after several long moments. “I think we have some things to talk about, Harper.”

“We absolutely do, Todd,” I replied.

[atomicblasphemy]

Eda becomes some kind of flying taxi service

Amity: So I told Malphas he needed to have a talk with Gary about our coffee break space.

Emira: Mhmm.

Amity: I mean, for one, Gary never cleans after himself. Like, I once saw him leaving his mug dirty for over a week. A WEEK. It was disgusting. It was just sitting dare on the table for days. I didn’t want to clean it, I’m not a doormate. But it was dire and I had no choice. And don’t get me started on the fridge situation. My lunch has been getting smaller by the day and I can’t seem to figure out the culprit.

Emira: That’s nice, Mittens. Isn’t it nice, Edric?

Edric: What?

Amity: Will you guys pay attention? I need some advice on...

*Windows cracking”

Edric: What the...

Hooty: AMITY FELICITY BLIGHT! IT IS I, HOOTCIFER, HARBINGER OF THY DESTINY. COME WITH ME AND I SHALL REVEAL WHAT JOYS THE FUTURE HOLDS FOR THEE.

Amity: I... What?

Hooty: DOTH THOU DARE DEFY FATE? *Swallows Amity*

Emira: ... What just happened? Wasn’t that Eda’s house demon? You know, the one we met before Grom?

Edric: I think it was. I’m not sure though, he sounded more... ominous...

SEVERAL EMOTIONAL MOMENTS LATER

Luz: It’s early... Do you really have to go already?

Amity: Yeah... I still have to finish homework, and I have work tomorrow. But I’ll come back here tomorrow... If you’re okay with it, that is...

Luz: YES! I mean... yeah, I’d love that...

Amity: Anyway... I guess I should get going, we’re not exactly neighbors after all. See you tomorrow then.

Luz: Wait, I have an idea. *Turns around* EDA!

Eda: *Not stopping her flight practice* What?

Luz: Do you think you could give Amity a lift back to her place?

Eda: Oh? Not walking your girlfriend home? Thought you’d be more chivalrous.

Luz: *Showing that Amity’s tomato like properties are infectious* EDAAA!

Eda: Sorry, sorry. But yeah, sure. *Picks up Amity and flies away at neckbreaking speeds. She soon slows down to a more reasonable pace* So... Amity, before I give you that whole “What are your intentions?” scare there’s something I’ve been itching to ask you. What made you chose to dye your hair of all colors, and how did Odd-alia react?

Amity: Luz... Me... Girlfriend...

Eda: Ugh... Don’t make me regret making harmless fun of young love, kiddo.

ONE AWKWARD TAXI EDA FLYING SESSION LATER.

Eda: *Placing Amity on the Blight Manor’s front porch and looking at the two bewildered faces watching her* Sup. *Turns to fly away* Oh right, I guess purple here is in not in the mental state to give any explanations.

Amity: Small ceremony... Human realm... Only friends and family... Boscha is not invited...

Emira: Are you... Edalyn Clawthorne?

Eda: Last I checked I was.

Emira: You look different.

Eda: Oh right... Look, it was a very eventful night so let me start with the simpler one. King, you remember him, right? Tiny, angry, looks like a cat, was the MC at the last Grom along with Goops.

Emira and Edirc: Yeah...?

Eda: He’s harnessing all the powers of yelling. I guess all children his age kinda do that but he went above and beyond and actually learned how to make things go boom with his voice alone, and that’s why both Luz and your sister are still alive. And now I’m realizing I should probably go hide all those Death Metal records I got in human realm. Can’t risk turning my son into a weapon of mass destruction. Not yet.

Edric: That’s... nice... I guess?

Emira: How about Mittens?

Eda: Right. She and Luz are an item now. It was adorable, I called her Luz’s girlfriend then I think it finally really hit her and that made her go all catatonic on me. Sorry about that.

Edric: WHAT?

Emira: Okay, okay... So came out with it? Ed and I have some scores to settle.

Eda: I... Both, I guess? I don’t know, it was sort of at the same time. But I don’t want to spoil it for when she recovers. So I guess us three are kinda family now, huh? Tangentially at least, like you’re my nephew and niece-in-law or something like that, I don’t know.

Eda: The important thing is: there’s a huge waterway under my house and I think it is actually part of my property. Now I need to figure out a way to find out how big that place actually is without letting town hall know so my taxes won’t go up. Can’t push my tax evasion skills. I mean, can you imagine it? The Owl Lady, the most successful outlaw in Boiling Isles history: arrested for fiscal crimes.

Emira: Okay... That’s... cool.

Edric: Yeah... Not to pry though, but what happened to you?

Eda: Oh... Me? I got very high. Not on purpose. Then I became a Harpy. Also not on purpose.

Emira: ... I’m sorry but I’m not following the cause and effect relation between those thing.

Eda: Neither am I. All I remember is: Hooty spiked some cookies; I revisited that time I gauged out my dad’s eye, also not on purpose; then when I push my ex away (You know, Raine Whispers, current head of the Bard Coven, lead a small revolutionary guerrilla, now under mind control. Oh, yeah, guess they’d make to sure to keep it under wraps, anyway...)

Eda: Then it got pretty weird. I got trapped by this tall hooded sun and moon figure and I’m not sure whether that was an actual memory (I did get arrested a few time after all) or if it was just a hallucinogenics induced manifestation of the subconscious trauma of being persecuted for years by the state. Anyone’s guess to which was it.

Eda: And then I became Icarus, fell into the sea, and became a piece of paper. Then I was at the beach, the piece of paper was also there, but that’s not important... I hope... Anyway, so, my curse was there too an for a moment there I thought we were gonna play some chess, but nah.

Eda: I did have an epiphany though. The sky changed colors and now I’m a Harpy. Gotta a lot of stuff to process right.

Edric: *Wide eyed and mouth agape* Mother of Titan...

Emira: *Same as her brother* Do you... need a hug or something?

Eda: Ehh... Don’t worry, I’ll get through. I mean, I’m a badass Harpy woman now, what else could I want? I appreciate the thought though. Anyway, I’ll get going, Luz has probably been stuck in the same place ever since I left. Was nice seeing you guys. *Turns around*

Edric: WAIT, EDA.

Eda: Yeah? What is it?

Edric: Can you take me flying a little bit like you did Mittens? Pretty please?

Emira: *Elbowing her brother* EDRIC!

Edric: What? There’s a tall and friendly winged lady standing in our front porch and calling us family...

Eda: Kinda family.

Edric: Kinda family. And we only went flying, on dad’s staff mind you, like twice. And I mean, look at her. That’s clearly a person with next to no regard for speed limits or any form of flying safety. *Turns to Eda* I mean that as the highest of compliments, by the way.

Eda: *Nodding and smiling* Well, I’m not one to brag... But you’re on point there.

Edric: *Turning back to Emira* See? It will be fun. *Turns back to Eda while making puppy eyes* So, pretty pretty please?

Eda: Eh... What the heck, why not? I do need to get a better hold of this flying thing after all. Fair warning though, I only had these for about an hour, I’m not taking responsibility for any loss of limb or life. *Picks Edric up and place him on one of her shoulders and turns to Emira.* You sure you don’t wanna come with? There’s plenty of room.

Emira: ... I never said I didn’t want to...

Eda: *Placing Emira on her other shoulder* Alritty then, make sure to hold on tight to my hair, just don’t fall into it. Can’t promise I’ll find you if you do. And up we go. *Takes off at neckbreaking speed*

Eda: So... I tried that to Mittens herself, but she was too lost in elation to form coherent sentences. What’s the deal with her hair color change? Why did she pick that specific shade of... pink? Lavender? Purple? Whatever, I was a tad curious about that choice coming from one of Odd-alia’s offspring. So either of you can shed some light on it for me?

Emira: Eh, what can I say? Our little Mittens is growing up, coming out of her shell. I mean, if you told me a month that she’d have a girlfriend by now I’d call it bullshit. Though I would have guessed Luz as being the most likely candidate. In any case, I’m pretty proud of the steps our baby sister is taking, not gonna lie.

Edric: Yeah... Same. But I can’t shake the feeling that it is at least in part an act of rebellion against mom. She did always have that weird fixation with Amity’s hair after all...

Eda: Hum, I see. This actually takes me to my follow up question. How did your mom react when she saw it?

Edric: *chuckling* Oh, I thought she’d have a stroke right then and there.

Emira: Yup. Never saw mom that mad. You’d think the two of us would be the ones to cause it but nope, Mittens beat us to it. Again, I’m a proud big sister.

Eda: Hehehe Sounds about right. You two are the troublemaking type then huh?

Edric: That’s a way of putting.

Emira: We like thinking of ourselves as practical entertainers however. We are in the Illusions track so it comes with the territory. Buuut...

Edric: We indulge in some prankery every now and then, and there’s no one better at it than us.

Eda: Is that so? Ever get in trouble for it?

Edric: Sometimes... When we (kind of accidentally) cause more property damage than intended because SOMEONE botched their end of the spell and caused Bump’s office to almost go up in flames.

Emira: Awww. Ed, I told you already. Don’t beat yourself over it. Accidents happen. You’ll do better next time.

Edric: HEY!

Emira: Anyway, Eda. Why were you asking about Mittens’ hair?

Eda: Oh... You guys are going to love this. I think. Anyway, did you know that me and your parents attended Hexside at the same time?

Edric: Yeah, I remember mom seeing one of your wanted posters a while back and calling you “Ewdalyn Clownthorne” or something like that.

Eda: Ah, haven’t heard that in a minute, Titan those were the day. Anyway, as you might have guessed by now me and your mother we... had a bit of a rivalry. Unfortunately, I couldn’t top the nickname she gave me, best I could do was Odd-alia. No offense, but Blight doesn’t give much to work with in terms of puns, can’t get funnier than that. Especially when thrown at her.

Emira: None taken. And yeah. I mean, it is fun when people call us stuff like “The Blights of Hexside”. But it is kinda sad to know we’ll never get a nickname as cool as Owl Lady or Lord Calamity.

Eda: Oh, my fame still precedes me huh? You know, I think the three of us will get along just fine.

Edric and Emira: Yup, we sure will.

Eda: Anyway, flattery aside... Part of the reason why I love poking your mom with a short stick was, other than how aggravated she’d get and how surprisingly good at paying in kind she was, the fact that she was in the Oracle track. You see, that made her a challenge. And given how she would actually prank me back (successfully, mind you, I have no shame in admitting that) I feel like like we actually a weird sort of friends, or at least we reached some kind of agreement that we were fair game for each other. And trust me, she was ruthless, and very good at escalating things.

Emira: Wow...

Edric: That sounds nothing like the mom we know. Other than the ruthless or the escalation part, that is still true.

Eda: Yeah, anyway. Part of our little game was keeping it hidden. Neither your dad or my sister actually ever realized what was going on until... well, I’ll get to that.

Eda: Anyway, so some lovely day I notice how weirdly obsessed with her hair Odd-alia was. This gives me some ideas, but I know I have make this the mother of pranks, so I decided to just keep a watch, to figure out what the best way to go about it would be. And I was also making those smaller pranks, something to throw her Oracle powers off-balance, you know?

Eda: Well... Back in the day your mother wasn’t monochromatic as she is nowadays. She’d circle through all colors you can think off on her accessories (which she used an ungodly amount, and no judgement it just never seems physically possible). But I noticed that there was one very specific color that she never got anywhere near her.

Edric and Emira: No way...

Eda: And as I said, she was weirdly obsessed with her hair... And as top student of the Potions track making hair dye was child’s play for me... So... do the math... And guess what very specific color was? I may be bad at color names, but I won’t ever, EVER, forget that particular shade.

Edric and Emira: No... freaking... way...

Eda: Yes... freaking... way... I mean, seriously, the first time I saw Amity’s new hair I had to do a double take. The resemblance was just too uncanny.

Emira: And what did she do?

Eda: Well... For a couple weeks there I thought I’d have to place a restriction order on her or something like that. Ultimately the two of us, along with Lilith and Alador (they were our attorneys, no they were not qualified for the role.) sitting across from each other in a very formal looking table, signing a contract. An actual freaking contract setting clear limits to our mutual pranks, like what was off limits like her hair or my then partner, how long was the maximum period a prank could last, so on. Surprisingly enough that was Al’s idea.

Eda: And let me tell you, that was probably the toughest negotiation I ever been a part of. Shame it was not long before I dropped out so never could really put it to use. You know, sometime I think this actually made Odd-alia realize she wanted to be a business woman. I mean, before that she’d go off about how she’d join the Emperor’s Coven all the damn time.

Edric: Wow...

Emira: I second that. Really, wish I had brought something I could take notes on. You completely blown anything we ever did out of the water.

Edric: No wonder she never told us that. You know what? I think I’m dying my hair that color first thing tomorrow.

Emira: Can we tell Amity this story?

Eda: Are you two actually thinking of antagonizing her? Are you crazy? First off, she’s your mother, she holds power over you. All you’d accomplish is getting grounded. Not to mention that she has decades of experience on you, even if she wasn’t your mom, she’d demolish the two of you. No offense, you’re still young, naive, you lack guidance in the ways of the pranksters.

Edric and Emira: *Dejectedly* Ohh... You’re right...

Eda: Hey... Don’t look so gloomy. I see a lot of potential in you, in both of you. *Sighs* I can’t believe I’m gonna take more kids under my wing... But.... Have you guys ever heard of the Bad Girl Coven Initiative? We annoy our foes into submission.

Edric and Emira: WE’RE LISTENING.

Eda: Heh... We’ll get along just fine indeed.

[kingcons]

Time tics by, a helluva boss FanFiction (part one of a collection of connected oneshots)

Words: 1,459

Genre: slice of life comedy with mild hurt/comfort.

Ok, this is it, your first day as an assassin.

You can do this.

You can do this.

“Millie, let’s do this.” The imp said excitedly as he swigged the last of his coffee. Millie giggled at her husband’s enthusiasm. “Alright honey, it’ll be good to be a little early I ‘spose. But uh, do we really need to be a whole thirty minutes early?” He glanced at the clock. Shit, she was right. Maybe it was a bit too early?

“You say that, but what if this is a test! What if we arrive on time and he fires us!” Moxxie began pacing back and forth on the kitchen floor tiles. “Even more so, what if we get there and we get into traffic and he’s gone home by then! What then Millie!” He grabbed his wife’s face dramatically. She laughed a little and cupped his face with her own hands. “Sweetheart, if that fucker does any of those things? We can find a new employer. It ain’t that big a deal.” He removed her face from his palms, wringing his hands in worry. “I know that on a logical and realistic level that’s most likely true, but the tiny percentage that you’re wrong really makes me think I’m gonna fuck this up.” He admitted with a sheepish grin. Millie noticed his eye twitching and his fists start to clench. She sighed. “Ok, if it’ll make ya feel better we can be early.” Moxxie calmed down noticeably at that. “Shit, my eye is acting up again.” He complained. “I told you, darlin’, we can afford the doctors?” Millie suggested. He shook his head. “I’ve asked them before actually. They said it’s stress related. I didn’t mention my other involuntary issues, but I kind of just assumed they are too.” Millie nodded. “Well I’m at least glad it ain’t nothin’ serious. Now come on, we got an all new job to go to!”

“Blitz! Get the fucking door already!” A woman’s voice boomed from inside. The two imps shared a concerned look. A crash could be heard on the other side of the door. “Okay, who the FUCK put greenie down on the floor!?” A male voice this time. “Stop complaining about your shitty plastic horses and answer the fucking door!” The woman again. And a gasp. “How dare you loona! I’ll have you know my plastic horses are an essential reason this company runs as well as it does!”

The door swung open, with a tall, long horned imp now facing the couple. “Mah-mah- Moxxie and Millie, Sir? For the mah- job interview?” Moxxie introduced him and his wife. “Oh… and I’m guessing you heard all that back there?” Millie nodded very enthusiastically. “May we come in, Blitzo, was it?” He shook his finger at her. “Nah sweet cheeks, the o is silent.” Furrowing his brow, Moxxie pointed at Blitzo. “Excuse me sir, what did you just call my wife?” Blitzo grinned deviously. “Oh, you two are a thing are you? Nice, how long is his wiener, is it short?”

Millie laughed a little, while the other glared at the taller. “That is totally inappropriate! And for your information, no it’s fucking not!” Moxxie huffed. He hadn’t even realised it yet but he had stormed inside. Millie catching up to him. Beginning to stamp his hoof and flap his hand, millie gave the still one a gently squeeze. Blitzo watched the two of them and smiled. “Hey, you haven’t met my daughter Loonie! Loona get in here!” Millie’s eyes seemed to sparkle. “Oooo! A little girl in the office! That’s fuckin’ adorable!” Blitzo rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, close mills, can I call you mills? But no cigar.” After a groan, there was loud stomping as a teenage hellhound busy with her phone flicked through presumably some form of social media showed up. “‘Sup, I’m loona. The receptionist I guess.”

“A pleasure to mah- meet you miss loona. I’m Moxxie, a new assassin here.” Blitzo turned around. “Hey wait a fuckin’ minuet, bitch boy, how do you know I’m hiring you two little ball busters?” Millie grinned. “Because, Blitz, we are your best choice. No one can beat Mox’s sharp shootin’ skills and me when I’m wieldin’ an axe!” She chirruped. The boss stroked his chin. “That so, huh? Welp, can’t argue with that. You’re hired!” Moxxie blinked. “Wait, what?” Blitzo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I said you’re hired, short stack, what you deaf too? You got two disabilities?” Millie was smiling but gave him a warning look, Blitzo holding up his hands in surrender as a response. “No, I heard you. But really? Just like that? You don’t need to see how we are in the field or anything first?” Blitzo shook his head. “Do you know how hard it is for an imp to start a fucking business? Well, I’ll tell ya. It’s harder than my dick when I imagine it in your ass Moxxie. I mean, we’re all low in terms of hierarchy in hell. And naming it I.M.P was a fucking power move. So what do ya say, you in?” The couple looked at each other. Millie with pleading eyes before Moxxie sighed. “Fine. Mah- we’ll work with you. If you stop imagining your Satan dammed dick in my ass.” He pleaded. The taller chuckled. “No promises Mox!”

After getting a tour of the office, Millie and Loona began chatting while Moxxie and Blitzo discussed hours.

“This all looks good to me, Sir. Friday off too? Suits us both just fine -Mah-“ Moxxie said with a dramatic flinch. The flinching clenched and twisted his face painfully. “Sorry.” Moxxie apologized. “Tends to happen sometimes.” He shrugged. Blitzo simply stared. Then, seemingly out of the blue asked

“Do you have a disability?” Moxxie blinked, and opened his mouth ready to yell out how inappropriate and offensive that comment was. But his new boss held up his left hand indicating him to be quiet. “No, I’m being serious for a sec here. Are you disabled? Cause those,” he pointed at Moxxie’s twitching eye. “Those look an awful lot like tics.” Moxxie raised an eyebrow. “You what?”

Blitz chuckled. “You know, tics, involuntary movements that both are a pain in your ass and cause pain in your ass?” Moxxie sat there, jaw hanging low. “There’s… there’s a name for them?!” He exclaimed. Blitz nodded. “Yep! I got ‘em too! They’ve been calm today but I’ve also been suppressing them which’ll really fuck me over later but eh, it’s whatever.” Moxxie’s eyes began to water. The taller paled. “Oh- um, fuck I’m not good with crying. Did I overstep a line or is this just like- a medical problem you have?” He stammered. Moxxie smiled and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “The second one, sir. I’ve been struggling with them my whole life. I can’t believe that other people experience them too. It probably seems like nothing to you-“

“No, it’s not that at all,” Blitzo cut him off. “I completely understand, Moxxie. I understand how hard tics are to deal with. They’re hard…” Moxxie nodded.

“Just like my dick in your ass.”

“Refrain, sir! Wait! You said you could suppress them, how do you do that?” Blitzo gritted his teeth. “It’s not that easy, Mox. I can’t teach you it’s just an ability people with tics or tic disorders have. Plus they’re major, major downsides to suppression including dangerous consequences if done, like, too much. Best way I can describe it is like, not scratching a persistent itch for hours. The itch sometimes lessens, sometimes you can’t feel it at all, but it’s always just kind of there. Until after hours and hours you’ve gotta just- scratch? Does that make sense?” Moxxie snickered. “Hey, I never said I was a linguistics expert here!” Moxxie shook his head. “No, no it makes perfect sense. Thank you, sir.” Blitzo nodded.

“Alright, that’s too wholesome and nice for my liking let’s get to planning some kills!” He suddenly exclaimed to Moxxie, grinning. But Moxxie was smiling right with him.

[crystalelemental]

So yeah, after seeing posts about 2v3 Master Mode on Reddit, and clearing the really dumb commons run yesterday, I decided to give a shot at this challenge option instead.  While challenging, on the whole, this was way, WAY easier than the commons only run.

Diantha/Sabrina is a good combo, glad I called that one.  Sabrina caps her crit rate so Diantha can emphasize her special attack buffs.  Reflect keeps her alive easier against physical stages, can heal, and has speed buffs which are great for Diantha’s gauge control.  They’re a solid combo.

Halloween Caitlin and Anni Lillie feel like an auto-win condition.  Lillie maxes all relevant offensive stats, H!Caitlin buffs defenses until we can’t possibly lose.  If they live long enough, Tricksy even gives us speed buffs, as if that was entirely necessary.

The Caitlin fight was impossible with damage-dealers.  I used Anni Lillie, my best off-type striker, and Halloween Caitlin, my best defensive support, on the same team, like a buffoon.  Worse, she’s electric-weak, which meant Volkner was necessary for Electric terrain, or we’re playing a game of really bad numbers.  But using Volkner in a 2v3 is...maybe not idea when your best electric-type damage dealer is base Elesa.  Maybe if it were EX Zekrom this would be easy, or Marnie for an obscene sync nuke.  But...yeah, no one could do it off sheer damage numbers.  So we had to use the stall combo.  Base Leaf and BP Erika can, it turns out, stall out a team on their own.  So that’s fun, glad we got that sorted.

That left Grimsley, who was...honestly stronger than I give credit for.  I initially tried with Lyra for sun combos, but Lyra drops like a rock against heavy physical offense like this, so it had to be Dawn.  I thought this would create problems, because MPR was now mandatory for Sunny Day if we wanted to not face recharge times, but it turns out, Dawn’s invincible, and we barely had any trouble.

Which leads to Iris, who...honestly gave a bit of trouble, but entirely for stupid reasons.  “Why did you bring Jasmine?”  I have a problem.  I just like bringing Jasmine to fights she shouldn’t be in.  Diantha and Keldeo are a powerhouse combo, but they’re not invincible.  Ultimately, we did win, but it wasn’t what I’d call super clean.  This is almost entirely because Jasmine, but in my defense, it’s 2v3 and I didn’t have another good special defense buffer.  I think Kimono Jasmine is going to have a lot more utility to me than previously supposed, which is...honestly scary because that scout cannot possibly go well for me given the last three’s generosity.

Overall this...really wasn’t so bad.  Easier than the commons, anyway.  The real challenge was just finding the right supports half the time, and the other half was recognizing that the maxed out offensive spread actually does have value here.  See, the Strength and HP buffs?  They’re nice when you have three units, and get to your sync a lot faster.  But here, you really have to make your damage numbers count, so it is very much kill or be killed by the foe’s first sync.  I don’t really love that.  I do tend to prefer playing a bit more defensive, I like prolonged games.

The other thing I would say this does is really emphasize the significant difference higher score Master Mode may have.  Right now, at 1500?  You can do shit like this.  But at 2500?  Not a chance.  Because then, you have to take modifiers that improve the foe’s bulk, either through direct HP upgrades, defense upgrades, or Strength upgrades.  2000 might not be so bad, but 2500 I think would destroy this kind of challenge.  In fact I think it would destroy this entire approach.  I did 2500 matches, I know what they’re like now, and when you go from a match like this where a single EX sync can one-shot the enemy team, to that EX sync now being mandatory so the 6k you deal on each can three-shot the sides?  Sustain is important.  It’s really important.  And I think that’s going to cause a massive shift in how units are ranked.  I really do think that some of the top support units right now, like Hilbert and even Lyra to an extent, will drop in viability because they just can’t sustain well enough into the fight.  We’ll see how that prediction pans out, but I dunno guys.  I feel like a lot of the meta players are in for some surprises with the shift.

[the-singlest-pringle]

A Sweet Song

Prompt 5 of Surprise from this list: "You got this for me?"

It was not common knowledge that Billy played the violin.

Read it here on AO3.

It was not common knowledge that Billy played the violin. “Not common knowledge” meaning there were only four people that knew: Max, Neil, Old Lady Garcia, and his music teacher from California, Ms. Petrov. Neil was never meant to find out, but after word of Billy’s first (and last) performance got out, Neil smashed his violin, along with his left hand. It wasn’t long after that when Neil caught Billy with a boy. Neil lost his shit, nearly beating Billy to death, then he packed up the whole family in less than a week and moved them to the boondocks.

It was now April, meaning it was nearly his birthday and also that it would be six months since he last touched a violin. The first few months without his violin were the hardest. Billy swore that he was going through withdrawal. His hands yearned for the violin, fingers itching to play. He longed to wrap his fingers around the neck, to slide his bow across the strings, and carefully finger out some Paganini. Billy would drive to the quarry and listen to his stash of classical music. One time he actually broke down because of it. His heart ached for his violin as he cried out in mourning.

Now that it’s been six months, he’s had time to adjust. He still gets that itch when his emotions are high, but Harrington helps quell his hunger. In fact, dating Harrington had been the best thing to happen to Billy in a long time. He was kind, caring, and provided the support that Billy desperately needed yet woefully lacked. He took care of Billy when he was hospitalized because of Neil (again) and was there for him when Neil lost custody and Hopper took him in. Billy was convinced that he loved Harrington, which is why he decided to add Harrington to the list of people that knew his secret.

It was a normal night, the Party gathering at the Wheeler’s for another Dungeons and Dragons campaign, when Billy said (out of nowhere), “You know, I used to play the violin.”

He and Steve had gone upstairs to grab more snacks, so they were alone in the kitchen. Steve was already attempting to balance two boxes of cookies and three bags of chips in his arms when he heard Billy. He started to clumsily juggle and drop the snacks while stuttering out a surprised “What? Are you serious?”

Billy chuckled at Steve’s shock. “Yeah, I am. I even performed at Royce Hall back in Cali once.”

“Bee, that’s amazing!” Steve exclaims as he crouches down to collect the snacks. “How come I’m just finding out about this now?”

“Well, only five people know about it, including you. And I felt that since we’ve been together long enough, you deserve to know everything about me, which means knowing that I play the violin,” Billy explains before quickly correcting himself with a, “Well, used to play.”

“You don’t anymore?” Steve asked.

“Nah. My old man made me stop when he found out.” Billy flexes the fingers of his left hand as he says this. “I played for nearly ten years in secret. I would tell my dad I had clubs after school, but instead, I would go to the music room and play.” He clenches his hand as he continues. “When Neil found out, he took a hammer to my violin, then to my hand to make sure I would stop.”

Steve sighed at the mention of Neil, making his way across the kitchen to take Billy’s hands in his. “Your dad is a dick and I hate everything he put you through.” He pushes a lock of hair out of Billy’s face and tilts up his chin so that they’re making eye contact. “I am so glad that you’re out of that situation and that you don’t ever have to deal with Neil again. I love you so much, okay?” Steve plants a kiss on Billy’s forehead for emphasis before Billy pulls Steve closer and practically smashes their lips together.

Billy smiles into the kiss, whispering out, “I love you, too,” before they’re interrupted by a familiar shrill voice that causes them to pull apart.

“Ugh! You guys are so gross !” Max says from the kitchen entryway. She was the only member of The Party that knew about Steve and Billy. Max made it a thing to point out how gross their PDA was, which she named DAFM (Displays of Affection in Front of Max).

“Yeah, shitbird? Well, you stink,” Billy quips.

“I do not, booger face!” Max retaliates.

“Carrot top!”

“Stupidhead!”

“Half-pint!”

“Shortstop!”

Billy gasps dramatically and feigns offense. “I am not short!”

Max rolls her eyes at that. “Tell that to every guy we know!”

“I’m literally taller than Jonathan,” Billy defends.

“That doesn’t count!”

Steve just sits back and laughs at the two siblings quarreling before intervening when the volume reaches near screaming level. “Alright, alright. Break it up, you two. You’re both shorter than me and that’s all that matters. Now can we head back downstairs?”

“Ugh. Fine, ” Billy and Max say in unison. Max makes her way downstairs as Billy and Steve gather the snacks.

Billy steals a kiss from Steve before they head down the stairs, Billy announcing his presence with a “‘Sup, fuckers? What’d we miss?”, earning him a smack to the arm from Steve. They settle into the couch, a comfortable distance apart, as the rest of The Party continues playing DND.

-

The next time Billy playing the violin is mentioned is during Billy’s birthday party. It’s a pretty lively event considering Billy had next to no one just months ago. But now he has a family and friends, all of which have gathered to celebrate him. Just thinking about it makes him smile.

Billy is about halfway through opening gifts when he comes across a rather large box. It’s covered in sheet music wrapping paper with a bow on top. Curiously, he shakes the box, causing Harrington to say “Careful! It’s fragile,” revealing that it’s from him.

Knowing the size of the box, the wrapping paper, and the person who gave the gift, it doesn’t take long for Billy to piece together what it is.

“No… no way,” Billy says while frantically tearing the wrapping paper off the box. That earns him a chorus of people asking what it is and a smile from Harrington. “I swear to god, Harrington, if this is a joke…”

Billy slides the case out of the box, unzipping it then opening it slowly. He stares for a few seconds, not fully comprehending what he’s seeing. Staring back at him is a brand new violin. The rest of The Party is eager to see the contents of the case, but all Billy can focus on is the instrument in front of him.

“You got this for me?” Billy asks, still not believing what he’s seeing. Steve nods in assent.

Before Steve can register what’s happening, he’s pulled into a bone-crushing hug from Billy to everyone’s surprise. The Party’s confusion only multiplies when they see that a violin is what caused Billy to hug Harrington. When Billy pulls away, he looks like he’s so happy that he might cry. Steve is sure that he almost does.

“Thank you so much, Steve. I- I don’t even know what to say.” Billy is stumbling over his words, so overcome with emotions. Back in October, he was so sure that he would never touch a violin again, but now that he’s free from Neil, he can do whatever he wants. And what he wants right now more than anything is to play.

Billy slowly takes the violin out of the case. He puts the shoulder rest on the instrument and rosins the bow a bit. Billy looks up nervously at Steve, silently asking for assurance. Steve smiles at him and gestures to the center of the rug as if to say “go ahead”. Billy can feel all eyes on him when he stands up. He doesn’t even know if his fingers healed properly, but he doesn’t really care. He just wants to play. So he gets up into position, takes a breath, closes his eyes, and starts playing.

The whole Party is in awe as they watch. It’s clear that Billy puts every emotion into how he plays. His fingers dance gracefully across the neck of the violin while his right arm moves the bow fluidly across the strings. His tone is practically perfect. An untrained ear wouldn’t be able to tell that he hadn’t played in over six months.

When Billy finishes, the whole room is silent before Joyce starts clapping. Then everyone joins in, Max leading a standing ovation. Billy blushes, embarrassed by the attention, but smiles at the praise, happy people enjoy him playing just as much as he does. When everyone finishes clapping, Billy is bombarded with questions and praises.

“Oh my god, that was amazing!”

“Since when did you start playing the violin?”

“What song was that?”

“How come you never told anyone?”

“I can’t believe that Billy Hargrove just played violin in my living room!”

Billy laughs out several “thank you”s as he puts the violin away in its case. “I started playing when I was seven,” Billy starts to explain. “The piece I just played is called ‘Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, Op. 61’ by Camille Saint-Saëns, and I never told anyone because of Neil.” The Party didn’t know the details of his situation with Neil, but gossip spreads quickly in a small town, so they knew Neil lost custody for some reason.

“Sweetheart, you played beautifully,” Joyce praised.

“You really did,” Lucas agrees, which surprises Billy.

“Could you play something else?” Dustin asks, exciting a chorus of agreements.

Billy doesn’t know if anyone besides Ms. Petrov has asked him to play. He’s still getting over the shock of it all. But he agrees. So he takes out his violin again. His violin. And he plays for The Party. He plays all night long, playing Bach to Beethoven, and even some rock songs. He plays until his out-of-practice fingers cramp. He plays because he’s happy. Billy feels fulfilled as ever with his friends and family around him, with Steve by his side, and with a violin in his hand.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

After Each Midnight Begins A New Day

Extra #10 - pre-fic

[Masterpost]

Anelmemi over on Ao3 commented on chapter 4: “If you’re taking requests or prompts, the line about baby!Lan Zhan with all the intensity of first timeline 30 year old Lan Zhan is an image that stuck with me. The conversation where he tells his mom about everything would make for an interesting extra.”

So here it is! Disclaimer: I’ve gone in a sliiiightly different direction (in that this is 7k words long and they don’t even get to the part where Lan Zhan tells her everything) BUT - that being said - I think I’m going to use this prompt as the first chapter/installment of a selection of scenes from the Wangxian side of the fix-it. Like you know how I said I wrote AEM as a ‘sequel’ to a fix-it fic that doesn’t exist? I’m gonna make the fix-it fic exist, at least in bits and pieces. I guess I already have kind of been doing that with the amount of pre-fic extras I’ve written for this universe, but none of them have been from the Wangxian side of things where the actual fix-it mechanics are happening. Might be time to change that. We’ll see! Either way, here’s some baby-not-actually-baby!Lan Zhan scaring the living hell out of his mom for you <3

----

Lan Zhan opens his eyes with a gasp, the blindingly blue flash of his and Wei Ying’s array gone as suddenly as it had flared. He’s in the dark now, kneeling in the middle of the floor of a room that is definitely not the addition to the Jingshi he had built to be Wei Ying’s workroom. It takes a long moment for his eyes to adjust but when they do he blinks and forces himself to take slow, deep breaths in and out.

He has to stay calm. 

They hadn’t been sure if the array would work, or, if it did, exactly what they would be in for. 

Getting separated was, unfortunately, a distinct possibility. 

It is now his reality. 

He has to focus on what he can control or risk sinking into a despair too deep for him to accomplish the task he and Wei Ying have set for themselves, and he will not break a promise to Wei Ying. They have agreed to try again - he will have to try, and trust that he and Wei Ying will not truly have to be separated again in any life. 

Lan Zhan stands slowly to take stock of the situation and immediately becomes disoriented when he rises to his feet only to find that everything is in nearly the same spot in his vision it had been while on his knees. He glances down at himself and holds a hand up in the moonlight and…

Ah. Childhood. 

That’s...less than ideal. 

Of course while writing the array they hadn’t specified a specific time or age to return to (beyond limiting it to their own lifetimes). To be quite honest Lan Zhan hadn’t entirely been able to follow Wei Ying’s logic for most of the components of the array, but he trusted his husband to ensure it wouldn’t kill them or others. Beyond that, their only desire had been a chance to retain their memories and use the wisdom of their years to heal all the rifts they possibly could in their world, to attempt to soothe the pains that they and everyone they love (who is still alive) have all had to learn to live with.

He’s grateful that it worked.

That being said, he doesn’t particularly want to be a child again. He’s awfully short, after all - and Wei Ying isn’t here, which is perhaps the worst offense. 

He reaches up to touch his cheek as he feels something drip down it and his small fingers come away wet with tears; he suppresses a sigh as he tries not to continue crying. It would seem that a toddler’s body is a bit too small and immature to hold the weight of the grief he carries with him in the depths of his soul, and he can already tell by the feeling rising in his chest that trying to contain it will be useless. He dusts his knees off as more tears start to drip down his cheeks and then he turns to walk sedately across the room to his little bed. He crawls into it, buries his face in his pillow, and promptly starts sobbing, the way he hasn’t since the first time he was this age.

When A-Yuan had still been a toddler, there had been some (many) who accused Lan Zhan of being too soft on the boy. He had been prone to crying if left to his own devices for too long, and after the third time he heard of it happening while A-Yuan was supposedly in the care of those who watched the rest of the sect children, Lan Zhan had insisted that the boy remain with him in his seclusion if Lan Xichen needed to be relieved from watching him to attend to business. It meant that A-Yuan had grown up with less socialization amongst his peers as a young boy, but his nature was such that the lack could hardly be seen by the time he had grown out of his fears of separation to join the other children in their classes.

It had also meant that when A-Yuan cried, he was never without a comforting hand in his hair or on his back, soothing him, reminding him that he was not alone, that he would never be left alone again. If his son was spoiled then so be it, but Lan Zhan would not allow his and Wei Ying’s child to grow up bowed under the cold austerity of a rule warning against excessive grief taken to its most extreme interpretation and weaponized against the grief-stricken. Lan Zhan is intimately aware of the products of that rule, and it’s one he refused to enforce - a decision he has never regretted.

Tonight, however, there’s no one to do the same for Lan Zhan. No one is here to pet his hair or talk softly to him about how the rabbits are doing, or tell him a story of the sort he used to tell A-Yuan to distract him. Lan Zhan, unlike his son, is used to it, and so he cries until his head hurts and then he bundles himself up in the tightest ball of blankets he can manage to try to sleep and wait for morning. It’s strange, trying to sleep without Wei Ying crowded into his space, breathing steadily against his neck and muttering under his breath in between soft snores. He eventually manages it when the moon slips behind the mountain again and the room is plunged into the soft almost-black blue of false dawn. In the gentle hum of the world dipping into its deepest hush outside his window he manages to let his exhaustion take over long enough to get a couple more hours of rest.

Lan Zhan wakes at five.

The gong rings through the mountain in exactly the way it always has and he opens his itchy, tired eyes to begin dressing and preparing for the day. His hands are clumsier than they ought to be, his grip weaker than he can ever remember it being and his limbs slightly less cooperative than he would prefer. He manages not to get too frustrated by the dissonance of it, though by the time Lan Xichen comes to fetch him he’s wearing a truly impressive pout (for him) and he watches, disgruntled, as his brother stifles a laugh behind his sleeve.

“Good morning didi,” Lan Xichen greets when he’s done silently laughing at him and Lan Zhan watches in fascination as his brother - still just a child himself, of course - glances both ways up and down the hallway with a mischievous little smile before dropping to one knee and holding his arms out to him. “You look like you had a bad night. Do you want a hug?”

Lan Zhan’s pouting lower lip trembles as he nods and steps forward slowly to tuck himself into Lan Xichen’s chest.

He honestly can’t remember the last time someone besides Wei Ying hugged him (he supposes it must have been A-Yuan, back before he had grown too old to ask for them anymore), but as Lan Xichen wraps him in his arms it feels so entirely natural that he practically melts, going boneless and rubbing his face into the heavy silk on Lan Xichen’s narrow shoulder like a cat seeking affection. Lan Xichen huffs a soft chuckle and squeezes him a little tighter; Lan Zhan wouldn’t be perfectly happy staying like this forever (he misses Wei Ying, and this isn’t helping them find each other again), but he would be perfectly content to stay there for a few days at least, just being held and cared for by his brother while he’s still small enough to reasonably get away with it.

Of course the list of people that Lan Zhan would tolerate such affection from - at any age - is extremely small, limited only to his immediate family - Wei Ying, A-Yuan, Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren (should he ever be the type to offer it). But as Lan Xichen releases him and reaches down to take his hand, as he leads him out of the children’s dormitories and onto the path outside, Lan Zhan realizes that there’s one person he hadn’t even considered as an option but who, especially in his current state, certainly tops the list.

“Mother,” he whispers with tears in his eyes as Madam Lan stands in the open door to the Jingshi, the familiar home still hers.

“Didi?” Lan Xichen asks, startled, as Lan Zhan pulls his hand from his but he doesn’t stop to answer - instead he runs across the courtyard as quickly as his legs can carry him and up the steps to fling himself into his mother’s arms. He likes to imagine that if he were physically the correct age he would be more composed, but he can’t say with complete certainty that that would be the case. His mother has always been special like that. She was the first to ever make him believe that he could be loved and accepted if he revealed the true depth of his feelings - no one else had been able to make him feel that way after her death until Wei Ying.

As it is, though, as young as he is - with all the tumultuous, too-large feelings of childhood despite the age of his soul - he promptly starts crying as he clings to her. Her hands are soft and gentle as she pets his hair and rubs his back precisely as he had done for A-Yuan as a boy, and Lan Zhan hiccups as he presses in closer.

“Zhan-er,” she says warmly above his head and all it does is make him cry a little harder, the tenderness of the greeting and the fact that he hasn’t heard it from a single soul in 32 years hitting him too hard for his little body to handle. “Oh dear,” she says next and he can hear her smiling, he can feel the way she’s suppressing a laugh in the slight shaking of her shoulder under his cheek and he clings. 

“I think he had a nightmare last night,” Lan Xichen supplies apologetically as he approaches at the properly sedate pace.

“A good thing it’s your day to come visit, then,” she replies softly, implacably, and Lan Zhan nods his agreement as he hiccups and tries to compose himself with little success. “Come in, Huan-er, I’ve got breakfast for us. Let’s see if we can cheer your brother up together, hm?”

Lan Zhan’s stomach swoops as he’s scooped up while Madam Lan stands and he lets himself be carried into the house. He finally manages to get himself somewhat under control after a while of sitting in his mother’s lap and letting her dry his cheeks with her sleeves, but he’s still hiccuping and crying fresh tears every now and then.

He can’t help but stare. It’s been so long since he’s seen her face, and she’s just as beautiful as he remembers, maybe even more so. She’s serene and gentle in a way he really never sees in anyone but perhaps Lan Xichen. Even A-Yuan, as sweet as he is, still carries the mischievous streak planted in him by Wei Wuxian and encouraged by a lifetime of friendship with Lan Jingyi. Whatever she’s done in the past, no matter what anyone else thinks of the incident that had led to her imprisonment, the woman she is now is so kind, so tender, that Lan Zhan has never once in his life understood the continuation of her imprisonment for so many years. 

He watches with wide, solemn eyes as she steadily wipes his cheeks clean when fresh tears replace those that have already fallen, a perpetual little smile on her lips as she talks to Lan Xichen over his head to make sure they both get as much of her attention as they can in their limited time with her.

He eventually manages to stop crying entirely and he’s promptly plied with a bowl of rice for breakfast, which he obediently eats, his eyes still on Madam Lan. He doesn’t want to ever stop looking at her. He had never gotten to say a proper goodbye, had never gotten the closure he needed after her death (not that closure would have helped, most likely. If he’s proven anything to himself it’s that the death of those he loves is not something he handles all that well.)

The point is - his mother was ripped away from him with no warning, and now she’s been returned to him and he will never in this new life take her presence for granted.

As the day goes on and he settles, he can’t shake a feeling of deja vu. It isn’t until they’re nearly ready to leave for the evening that it strikes him.

This is their last day with her. He knows this day, when he had been younger he had replayed the events of it over and over in his mind, searching for something in his behavior that had upset Madam Lan to the point where she didn’t want to see him again. Before he had understood that she had died he had been so sure that it was his fault the door wouldn’t open anymore, that she was inside languishing in disappointment in her youngest son.

And so when Lan Xichen makes as if to bundle him off into the evening just after supper, Lan Zhan takes a page from A-Yuan’s book and sits down to lock his arms around her leg, every ounce of his considerable determination set in stern lines in his serious little face. 

“Didi, we have to leave,” Lan Xichen prods - gently - as he kneels in front of him.

“No,” he protests, his voice petulant but he doesn’t care. He’s not letting her go. He’s here to fix things on a much larger scale than anyone around him can yet understand, but he’s going to begin with their mother. They will get to grow up with a mother this time, and a father too if he has anything to say about it. He can fix things for their family first and let the effect spread outwards from Cloud Recesses. A stone dropped into the center of a pool will create ripples that reach all the way to the edges, and if he begins with Madam Lan’s survival and perhaps her return to the world from her isolation, there’s no telling just yet how far such an influence will spread.

Even if it goes no further than their little family, he doesn’t care. He can fix this, so he will.

“A-Zhan,” Lan Xichen tries next, reaching out to tug gently on his sleeve and he holds on tighter, buries his face in the skirts of Madam Lan’s robes.

“No!”

“It’s alright, Huan-er,” Madam Lan soothes as she drops a hand down to rest on top of his head. “Go on ahead, I’ll make sure Zhan-er gets returned to his rooms in time for curfew.”

Lan Zhan turns his head enough to open one eye so he can watch Lan Xichen have a bit of an internal debate before he nods and straightens up to accept one last hug before he turns to leave. The pair of them, Madam Lan and Lan Zhan, stay still and watch him until he disappears down the path and only then does Madam Lan bend down to put her hands under his arms and lift him up onto her hip. She offers him an indulgent look as she leans in to press their foreheads together and he relaxes instantly.

“Zhan-er, what’s gotten into you today, hm?” she asks softly as she shuts the door with her foot to carry him back inside, sitting down on the edge of her bed to set him down on her knees. It should feel strange, he supposes, to be treated like a child like this, picked up and carried around wherever someone else wants to take him. But he’s never known anything else in regards to his mother, he’s never gotten a chance to both be older than a toddler and to know her. In his memories, this is how he remembers her, and so it doesn’t feel strange at all to sit in her lap and study her face like he’s doing his best to memorize it.

“What’s wrong, Zhan-er?” she asks again, even more softly, as she brushes a few stray hairs back from his forehead and runs her thumb along the silk of his ribbon - it must be brand new for him at this age.

“You are going to die,” he says, deciding then and there that he doesn’t have the luxury of trying to find a way to fix things on his own while trying to hide that he’s really a fully-grown man with a husband and child of his own, that he carries a full life’s worth of pain and experiences. He and Wei Ying had agreed that no matter what happened with the array they wouldn’t tell anyone what they had done - it would defeat the purpose of fixing things, and there was also no guarantee that it wouldn’t do harm. In any other circumstance he would agree it’s better to be safe than sorry, but he’s so young - there’s not much he can do but talk to Madam Lan directly and allow her to handle the situation in his stead - or at least help him - without blowing his cover.

Madam Lan blinks down at him for a moment, a small furrow between her brows. How had he never noticed as a child that she doesn’t wear a headband?

“Who told you such a silly thing?” she asks with a hint of a smile and a little tap of her fingertip against the tip of his nose. “Is that what your nightmare was last night?”

“Mother,” he says as seriously as he can manage. (It’s very difficult to sound grave, he realizes, when he’s a literal 5-year-old [he even still has a bit of a childish lisp] but he needs her to understand.) “I have lived this before. This is the last day you will see Xiongzhang and myself. You are going to die. No one has ever told me how.”

Madam Lan blanches at that, though whether it’s because of what he said or because her 5-year-old son is speaking like an adult or a combination of both he isn’t sure.

“Zhan-er, what...what are you talking about?”

He takes a deep breath in and clambers down off her lap to straighten his robes and dust himself off before he offers her a deep bow. 

“Mother, please listen to me and trust what I say. I am your son, Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun, current Chief Cultivator. I have already lived this life, and have returned to my childhood through the power of an experimental array I created with my husband, Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng Jiang.”

“Zhan-er,” Madam Lan gasps and he looks up to find her definitely far too pale as he blinks owlishly up at her.

“If I leave tonight without warning you of danger, I fear this will once again be my last memory of you.”

The fear in her eyes makes him feel a bit like squirming with guilt for putting it there, but he holds himself still, watching for a sign that she believes him, that she’s taking him seriously. He knows what he must look like - if A-Yuan had ever suddenly started behaving like he is now he would have been very concerned that he had been possessed. Judging by the look on Madam Lan’s face, it’s entirely possible that that’s exactly what’s on her mind.

“Mother, please, you must believe me. Wei Ying and I wish to right the wrongs done to those around us, to live with no regrets. We have made many painful choices in our lives, as have all of those we care for. We have decided to attempt the impossible and rewrite the past.”

“You..But you....”

Lan Zhan stays still and watches as Madam Lan clearly tries to piece things together. He’s dismayed - though not entirely surprised - when she faints backwards onto the bed, but he supposes it’s better than if she had outright tried to say that he couldn’t possibly be telling the truth. He climbs up onto the bed to sit beside her and make sure she’s otherwise alright before he settles down to wait patiently for her to wake.

It doesn’t take too long, thankfully, and he can’t help but reach out to put the back of one small hand against her forehead to check her temperature when she blinks her eyes open.

“Do you feel alright?” he asks as he watches her face go through a series of interesting emotions in quick succession.

She sits up slowly to look down at him with an expression that seems to have settled on something like incredulity and bemusement. “I think you must see why that question is not easily answered at the moment.”

“Mn. It is a strange situation, I understand,” he agrees solemnly with a nod. Madam Lan raises her sleeve to cover her mouth as she bites back a laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkled with mirth.

“Oh Zhan-er,” she says - and then she’s laughing, truly laughing, one hand over her mouth and the other arm curled around her stomach as she laughs in a way that sounds just this side of manic. Years of being married to Wei Ying and he still doesn’t understand how to handle people who deal with their stress by laughing about it.

“Mother?”

“Oh dear, Zhan-er I’m sorry,” she laughs weakly as she wipes at her eyes. “This is just..Well as you said, this is very strange. And you’ve always been a serious child but this is..I’ve never seen a child behave this way!”

“I am 37.”

“Oh dear. Much too old for hugs, then,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes and Lan Zhan has to think about it for a long, dismayed moment before he realizes he’s being teased. He shakes his head ‘no’ and lets her pull him into her arms again to cradle him close, one arm wrapped around his back and the other over his bent knees to hold him in place. “37, hm?” she asks once they’re settled and Lan Zhan nods. “And married?”

“Yes, mother. I also have a son. He is 24.”

“My own baby, married and with a child, hm? And you said Chief Cultivator?”

“Mn. I do not enjoy such a public position but it is necessary.”

Madam Lan laughs at that, though it’s thankfully less frightening than her laughter at the situation as a whole had been. “I have never heard of such a thing but I can only imagine such a position involves quite a lot of talking to other Sect Leaders, which sounds very unpleasant.”

“Mn.”

They’re both quiet for a few long moments, lost in thought. Lan Zhan is only grateful that Madam Lan seems to believe him, and when she breaks the silence again it becomes clear that that is actually the case.

“You said I am going to die soon,” she murmurs and Lan Zhan can’t resist cuddling closer as the pain of losing her flares too hot, too sharp through him.

“I remember this day,” he replies after a few deep breaths and a chance to gather his thoughts. “It is the last day we were allowed to visit. I do not know when, precisely, you passed away, but by the next appointment we were no longer allowed to visit, and...when I came to kneel anyway every month after, your door never opened for me.”

“And you are telling me all of this now to prevent it happening again.”

“Mm. Wei Ying and I performed the spell last night, I am still becoming accustomed to being a child again. I apologize for my outbursts, it is..difficult to control my emotions while so young.”

“Zhan-er, you never have to apologize to me for your feelings,” Madam Lan chastises gently. “No matter your age. I have never wanted you and Huan-er to be raised so..rigidly.”

“Who is keeping you imprisoned?” Lan Zhan asks softly - a question that’s been on his mind since he had been this age originally, and which no one has ever sufficiently answered for him. “Xiongzhang and I always wished we could be raised by you.”

Madam Lan sighs heavily at that and holds him a little tighter. “Qiren is so strict with you two,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “I’ve tried telling your father that you two are growing up to be so serious, so unhappy, but he won’t hear of it. He’s technically the one keeping me here, though I suspect it’s the clan elders speaking through him.”

Lan Zhan can’t help but glare at the wall when the elders are mentioned. The only other person in the world he wishes to argue with as much as he does the elders is Jiang Wanyin.

“I will fix it,” he vows with grim determination.

“Zhan-er,” Madam Lan instantly chastises and he shakes his head, already intent on arguing whatever point she feels needs to be made.

“I will not lose my mother again. The elders have gone too long without challenge. There are many many good things about the Lan that do not need to change, but there are a great many traditions that have become harmful in their execution at least, if not in nature or original intent. I will fix it.”

“You deserve to have a childhood,” Madam Lan argues right back, equally adamant. “It is your father’s duty to lead the Sect, the elders only advise.”

“Uncle is the acting leader of the Sect,” Lan Zhan retorts with a deepening of his frown, this time in confusion. He leans back to look up at Madam Lan, who’s blinking down at him in something like surprise, if a bit muted. “Father is in seclusion, he never again ran the Sect before his death during my boyhood.”

Lan Zhan stays quiet as he watches Madam Lan think through that, wondering just what exactly she’s thinking. Perhaps comparing what she thought she knew to this new information? 

It seems that may be the case when she quietly murmurs,“Well that..that does change a few things,” after a long while, her eyes distant. “Maybe we should compromise. You can tell me what you know, and perhaps what you plan to do in regards to the elders, and I will do my best to listen and perhaps together we can come up with something that will work. Does that sound alright?”

Compromise. Lan Zhan hates compromise, has hated it with a passion since the day he watched the Sect Leaders of his youth decide that ‘compromise’ meant ‘kill Wei Wuxian’, and he definitely hasn’t grown any fonder of it since it’s become his turn to ‘compromise’ with many of those same Sect Leaders on a near daily basis as the Chief Cultivator. But these are, he will admit, wildly different circumstances, and for a much better purpose than yet another boundary dispute or arguing over who should receive more disciples from the local families.

He nods and opens his mouth to begin the story at the beginning - and yawns so widely his jaw gives a tiny little pop.

“Oh dear,” Madam Lan chuckles as she snuggles him tighter and rocks him slightly back and forth. It’s shocking how heavy his eyelids feel all of the sudden as she does so and he huffs a sigh with an accompanying pout, irritated with his young body that apparently tires far too quickly. “I believe our plan shall have to wait until morning. You’ve had a long day.”

“Being a child is frustrating,” he confesses and Madam Lan laughs her bright, bell-like laugh - hearing it has always been one of his most treasured memories and to hear it now again in the flesh makes him so happy his irritation with his youthful limitations dissipates in an instant.

“I would imagine so. What an interesting puzzle you are, my Zhan-er,” she sighs as she continues rocking him gently, the repetitive swaying motion dragging his eyelids further and further down despite his best attempts to stay awake. “Such an old soul in the body of a child. So wise and self-assured like an adult, and yet quick to fluster, quick to cry, just like a child. I can only imagine how frustrated you must be.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan manages to hum even as he slips further down into her lap to rest his head in the crook of her elbow, getting comfortable.

“Go to sleep, Zhan-er. We’ll figure this out in the morning, alright? You’re not going to lose me again, I’m here.”

Lan Zhan drifts off to sleep in his mother’s arms for the first time in his life that he can remember, and it’s mercifully deep and dreamless.

----

When Lan Zhan wakes in the morning it’s with a gasp and the vague fear that his mother has, despite his best intentions, died inexplicably once again in the middle of the night. He sits up quickly and looks around the Jingshi just as the gong tolls and he only relaxes when he realizes that she had made him a little nest of blankets to rest in on the outer edge of the bed while she had taken the inside beneath the window.

He clambers down out of bed to go about getting ready for the day. He locates his ribbon where Madam Lan had removed it for him and carefully coiled it into a neat loop; he’s moments away from putting it on before he sets it down again to wait. Wei Ying likes to put it on for him these days - or rather, he supposes, in the future (this is going to give him a headache) - and while Wei Ying can’t do it for him right now, he feels it would be equally as special to ask his mother to help him with it instead.

He explores the Jingshi, acquainting himself with how Madam Lan organizes the familiar space. He finds basic food stored near the small hearth the house had contained before he had modified it himself to accommodate cooking for A-Yuan as a boy, and he takes a moment to set out what they’ll need for breakfast before he withdraws again to meditate. Perhaps, he supposes, if he can center himself and calm his energy he’ll be able to avoid further emotional outbursts. If he’s going to tell his mother all the details of his first life while so emotionally volatile, it’s going to be a very long day indeed. He’ll appreciate beginning it more at peace than he had begun the day before.

He settles into the familiar pattern of breathing and being, just..existing, doing his best to feel and let go, to accept that this is his reality now. He’s starting his life over. He can try again. He can not only avert the broad tragedies that had affected the world at large, he can also repair his own life.

The most obvious personal change will be that he can openly love Wei Ying from the moment they see each other again. He can live an entire lifetime with his beloved at his side, his other half, the bright sun to his distant moon.

Perhaps less obvious of a consequence but one that he suddenly realizes he wants just as badly - he can be closer to his family. Raising A-Yuan had taught him much about the sort of family he wanted to have. The closeness, the affection, the warmth present in their home even when he had been outwardly as cool and aloof as ever. He had never let A-Yuan believe for a moment that he wasn’t adored, he had taught him how to see Lan Zhan’s love for him, had taught him that it was boundless, had taught him to turn that love outwards in a way that Lan Zhan had never been allowed to. He had raised their son to be sweet and kind to everyone he met, Wei Ying had taught him to smile and laugh and to understand so he could forgive.

He can do that again, but this time he’ll start with the members of his family he had been too late to understand the first time. He can help guide Lan Xichen through the confusing mires of childhood, attempt to create an even closer relationship between them than in their first life - a relationship in which they’re free to just be brothers and Lan Xichen doesn’t have the weight of being his Sect Leader on his shoulders as well. He can ensure that they get to grow up with a mother to guide them, her gentle affection thawing the cold austerity the Lan push their children into. He can save Father, he can keep Uncle from becoming bitter and overly rigid in his ways. There’s so much time stretching out ahead of them, he’s sure he can repair their fractured little family and help nurture it into something beautiful.

“Zhan-er?” Madam Lan calls some time later and Lan Zhan opens his eyes to find her already ready for the day with his ribbon in her hands, her expression a question.

“My hands are still clumsy with childhood,” he replies solemnly, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Will you tie it for me?”

“Of course,” she agrees with a faint hint of a smile. “May I assume you’re still an adult in there?” she teases gently as she knees behind him to start threading the ribbon through his simple hairstyle and tie it securely.

“Mn. I am making plans.”

“I can’t wait to hear them.”

Lan Zhan hums his acknowledgement just as she finishes tying his ribbon and he can’t help but relax when she puts her hands on his shoulders to smooth out the fabric of his little robes and sweep his hair properly behind his neck. They’re interrupted by a sudden knock at the door and Lan Zhan frowns, though Madam Lan doesn’t seem surprised at all. Rather she stands and crosses the house with graceful steps and after a moment Lan Zhan stands to drift after her silently.

“Lan Qiren,” she greets with ice in her voice as soon as the door opens and Lan Zhan blinks in surprise. Uncle? He had always thought that Lan Qiren never approached the Jingshi while it was still Madam Lan’s residence - he and Lan Xichen had been making the journey to it from the dormitories unaccompanied since the visits began, and he supposes now that he had just..never bothered to wonder who else came to see Madam Lan besides them and the servants who tended to her. She doesn’t sound surprised, though, to have Lan Qiren on her doorstep, so it must not have been entirely outside the realm of possibility.

“Wen Yun.”

Wen Yun? Wen?

Lan Zhan feels like he just got hit with a hammer between the eyes.

He had never known his mother’s name. Perhaps most people would find that strange, but Lan Zhan had never truly questioned it (beyond wishing that he did know it). She was a criminal in the eyes of the Lan Sect after all; certainly no one had ever thought to tell him her given name when he had been a child, and by the time he was old enough to know he hadn’t known who or how to ask. She wasn’t even in the clan records - or in the ancestral shrine - as anything but Madam Lan, reduced to nothing more than her married title that she hadn’t even wanted. The disrespect of it still rankles him to this day. But..

Wen Yun. She’s a Wen. He is a Wen, certainly by blood if never knowingly by name. That’s..an interesting thing to process. Even more interesting that Lan Qiren has known, all this time, and had never breathed a word of it to anyone that Lan Zhan was aware of, even before the Wens’ destruction during the Sunshot Campaign. He hadn’t expected to be quite so caught off guard by anything he could learn by returning to his childhood, considering he had already lived it once, but clearly he’s going to need to rethink that very quickly.

“Wangji.” Lan Qiren’s voice is sharp, remonstrative, and Lan Zhan instantly focuses on the present again. He can’t, under any circumstances, let Lan Qiren know that he is who he is, but he also can’t help but feel an all-too-familiar surge of (perhaps slightly petty) rebellion in his chest at that tone of voice, at being scolded like the young child he outwardly appears to be. He looks up at Lan Qiren impassively, his face solemn, as he holds his hand up for Madam Lan to take. As he is intimately aware, there’s no time like the present to begin changing things for the better.

Madam Lan slips her hand into his instantly, giving his fingers a little squeeze, and Lan Zhan sets his jaw stubbornly. He’s got an ally in her, and he’s nearly forty years old. He can face down Lan Qiren, he’s done it plenty of times already for what he thinks is right.

“Wangji, let go. Your time to visit your mother is long over.”

Lan Zhan watches Lan Qiren’s anger with a detached sort of interest, tipping his head slightly to the side and shuffling closer to Madam Lan’s skirts as if to hide in them, though of course he isn’t in the least afraid.

“Staying,” he announces with all the gravity he can muster. He really wishes in that moment that he could sound at least somewhat closer to his actual age rather than having to do his best with the sweet, high voice of childhood, but oh well. It still clearly startles Lan Qiren, that he would talk back, and Lan Wangji meets his gaze evenly.

“Wangji!”

“I will be raising my son from now on,” Madam Lan suddenly declares. “Huan-er as well, if he wants me to.”

Lan Qiren splutters in a way that Lan Zhan finds...kind of funny, actually. He’s only ever known Lan Qiren as stoic (with a small range of other emotions couched within that stoicism) or angry, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so...gobsmacked.

“You - the elders -“

“Oh, I didn’t realize the elders had taken over raising them,” Madam Lan replies with ‘innocent’ curiosity. “I was under the impression that they were still your responsibility, Qiren, and that concerns about their upbringing should be brought to your feet.”

Lan Qiren huffs out a frustrated sigh and Lan Zhan tips his head to the other side as he watches, able to study Lan Qiren with all the experience of a full life spent as his ward.

He knows, of course, that Lan Qiren loves him and Lan Xichen as if they’re his own children, and that that affection started when they were handed off to him as mere infants, just old enough to leave the wet nurses. By this point in time, Lan Qiren has had five years to raise Lan Wangji and eight for Lan Xichen - that affection for them is clearly already firmly in place. After all, it’s Lan Qiren who had held them when they were too young to walk on their own yet, who had rocked them to sleep and taught them their first lessons - how to talk, how to eat, how to read, how to count.

But Lan Zhan also knows that Lan Qiren is already a much stricter hand than they really need. He’s spent a lot of time meditating on the peculiarities Lan Qiren had possessed as a parental figure, and while he still can’t conclusively point to the root of his behaviors, he already knows how it will end if allowed to continue - with Lan Zhan himself cold and rigid but for a small handful of people whom he still struggles to show outward affection towards, and with Lan Xichen pouring kindness and gentleness out onto others to soften the blows of the world until he’s left with none to offer himself. 

Lan Zhan knows Lan Qiren loves them, but he also knows that that love could be shown in much healthier ways if they’re all allowed to recover. 

“The elders won’t ever allow this,” Lan Qiren finally snaps, his eyes flickering briefly down to Lan Zhan and then back up to Madam Lan. “And I won’t plead your case.”

“Oh,” she says idly. “Well that’s a shame, then, I would have appreciated the support.” Lan Zhan looks up as his mother looks down at him and he can’t help but feel safe as she offers him a quick wink, out of Lan Qiren’s view. “I guess Zhan-er and I will have to make our case to the elders ourselves.” 

Lan Zhan nods once at that and squeezes her hand to let her know it’s alright with him and Ford into his plans.

“Wangji?” Lan Qiren prompts and Lan Zhan looks up at him, reads the fear behind the indignation, the hurt feelings behind his censure. But with the foresight that Lan Zhan has, he trusts that if they change this, if they give his mother a reason to live again, that everyone in their family will be better for it. Happier. 

A little pain is necessary for growth and change - an old tree must fall to allow the new to grow, the winter snows have to come and melt away again to refresh and awaken the world properly in the spring.

Lan Zhan lets go of Madam Lan’s hand to step forward and wrap his arms around Lan Qiren’s leg, holding onto him tightly and hugging him with all the strength and affection he can muster for the man for a long moment - a goodbye to the man who had raised him, who will soon become a different man than Lan Zhan knows - before he lets go again to take his mother’s hand and lead her back into the Jingshi.

She shuts the door gently with Lan Qiren standing shocked on the other side of it.

They have plans to make, and time is of the essence. 

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 2 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: multiple smut scenes, science talk, banter, jealousy, alcohol & LOTS of colorful 80s slang lmao

A/N: Bitchin’ is a multichapter fic, surprise!! This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and helping me with Yara’s character overall. Hope you appreciate the easter egg based on her!

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART TWO

"Yara!"

The eyes belonging to the girl in question, flashed your way, widening in alarm.

"Oh, yikes." Was her automatic response, her bag of cool ranch Doritos falling onto her lap.

You were angry, that much was evident to her. Yara was sat in your shared dorm's living room, a thick blanket engulfing her small frame. You briefly glanced towards the TV, it was tuned into MTV, the familiar music video of Every Breath You Take by The Police playing, before directing your glare back onto the copper-haired girl.

"Before you say anything," Yara began, swallowing down whatever remaining food was in her mouth, "you should know they were having a rerun of the VMAs – which I missed last night – at the same time as the lab."

"You left me alone! You said you would go to the lab yesterday!" You griped, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Yes, yes that is true but I would also like to point out the fact that Madonna performed, so it wasn't like I even had a choice when you really think about it." She countered, tone pitching comically.

"You absolutely had a choice!" You laughed, shaking your head.

"Mm... I could argue that it is a subjective opinion."

You walked over to your best friend, sighing as you slumped down beside her, placing your backpack onto the floor.

You offered Yara a sideways glance.

"Did Duran Duran at least win something?" You asked begrudgingly.

"Nothing. They were robbed!" She squinted, shaking a fist in the air angrily.

A small chuckle escaped you despite yourself.

"You really should have gone to the lab, you know." You reasoned, reaching into the bag of chips.

"And smell like frog insides for the rest of the day? Grody to the max." She responded, before flashing you a look. "No offense."

"None taken." You grumbled, her observation fully noted though.

"Besides the makeup lab is next week. What could I have possibly missed this class?" Yara dismissed you absentmindedly, turning back towards the television as she reached for another chip.

"Well." You chuckled nervously. "For one, I have a boyfriend now."

At your words, Yara froze, a chip still in her hand as she paused mid-bite.

"You what?!" She all but shrieked, causing you to jump.

"Who? How? When? Tell me everything!" Her hands found your shoulders, shaking you slightly. You shoved her off with a laugh.

"Uh, well, his name is Jungkook–"

"The Jeon Jungkook?! From our lab?" Yara interrupted, eyes wide and shining with interest.

"Um... yes?" You responded cautiously.

Yara let out a scoff, leaning back further into the couch.

"Unbelievable. I leave you alone for one day and you get a boyfriend! And a fine one at that. This is so bogus."

"Mine and Jungkook's whole relationship is bogus, Yara." You rolled your eyes.

At your words, your best friend raised an eyebrow and you took that as an invitation to continue speaking.

"I'm only pretending to date him to make his ex-girlfriend jealous."

A sharp laugh from Yara caused you to pause, watching the way her amusement was short-lived, her smile fell as she took in your serious expression.

"Oh, you're serious." She deadpanned.

You nodded, "When you didn't show up Jungkook ended up being my partner and... well, I'm still not sure how it happened but he basically offered to fund my STEM event in exchange for helping him making his girlfriend jealous."

"They are the weirdest couple." You breathed out, shoving another chip in your mouth.

"Wait... he's gonna fund your event?! Y/N, you've been planning that thing since we got to university!"

A smile found your face, your excitement once again seeing you.

"I know! I wouldn't usually get involved in someone's love life like this but was too good of an opportunity to turn down."

"Man, I'm so happy for you! Still kind of disappointed but happy nonetheless." Yara smiled, causing you to frown.

"Disappointed? Why are you disappointed?" You pressed.

Yara clicked her tongue at you, looking at you as if the reason should be obvious.

"What do you mean why am I disappointed? Here I was ecstatic to hear that my best friend has gotten a boyfriend only to find that it's got a contract behind it!"

You giggled, nudging your knee into hers. "Think of this as a smart business venture I'm embarking on."

Yara stared at you for a moment, something clearly weighing on her mind as her lips fell into a subtle pout.

"What?" You mused.

She fluttered her eyelashes, "Does this mean you aren't going to fuck him?"

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yara!" You gaped.

"Because, if you want to get technical, you kind of have to so I can live vicariously through you. It's girl code." She continued, reaching over and popping another chip into her mouth.

You frowned. "That is gross and also not a thing."

"I'm serious, I'm not accepting anything less than, like, third base." Yara pressed with a wag of a finger.

"Why don't you worry about your own sexual escapades instead of worrying about mine." You paused before continuing. "Which won't be happening, for your information."

The snacking girl let out a deep groan, throwing her blanket off of her as she stood up, taking the bag of chips with her much to your dismay.

"Well, it's not my fault I'm not getting any, okay! So do us both a favor and freak his shit." She called out, walking over to the kitchen.

"Can you stop emphasizing your lack of dick for one second?" You chuckled. "If you're that desperate for dick go back to Eunwoo."

Eunwoo was a boy Yara messed around with last semester. The relationship was short-lived, Yara quick to cut things off as soon as she realized Eunwoo was looking for something more than just a brief fling. Because ironically, despite how Yara crowed about being lonely, there was nothing that sent that girl running faster than actual feelings.

"Sweetie, I'm desperate for good dick." Yara scoffed, having had emerged back into the room, her auburn hair now let down, her trusty scrunchy back around her wrist.

"Was Eunwoo really that bad in bed?" You wondered, eyeing your best friend curiously as she moved to turn off the TV that had gone neglected the moment you stepped into the room.

Yara shrugged. "No, he was fine."

"So...?"

An enthusiastic pound against the poor television box rang out, the soft side of Yara's fist having had slammed down dramatically.

"I don't want just fine, Y/N! I want dick so totally tubular that I feel it in my guts." She declared.

A sputtering cough fell from your lips as you choked on your inhale of air.

Yara looked at you with mild concern, suppressing her laughter as she walked over and began to pat your back.

"I seriously question how you wiggled your way into being my best friend." You breathed through your coughs,.

"Eat my shorts, Y/N. You love me and you know it." She dismissed easily.

You merely grinned, unable to dispute your best friend's claim.

"Now go shower." Yara ordered, using one hand to point in the direction of the bathroom, and the other to pinch her nose shut dramatically.

Sighing, you heaved yourself off the couch. You doubted you smelled as bad as Yara made you out to, but you couldn't deny that a shower sounded terrific right now.

"Yes, sir." You sent her a salute cheekily before turning to head to the bathroom, shaking your head as she called out after you.

"And when you come out I need to know every single word you and Jungkook exchanged. If you're dating him then so am I, bitch!"

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The weekend had breezed by quickly, homework and the newest Cyndi Lauper album occupying all your free time. You hardly had time to contemplate your new role as Jeon Jungkook's new girlfriend.

You and Yara had been in the midst of a conversation about what exactly she should get her little sister for her 13th birthday when you first spoke to Jungkook again.

"Cabbage patch kid?" Yara offered, causing your nose to scrunch up.

"How old do you think your sister is?"

"Hey, don't sass me. For your information, Lyanna still has all her Care Bear tapes. She threw a hissy fit when my mom tried to give them away last Christmas." Yara recalled.

"Still, she's becoming a teenager. I vote no on the cabbage patch kid."

"I'm with you, babe." Jungkook spoke up suddenly, lips pressed together as if in contemplative thought.

You hadn't even noticed him enter the classroom, much less approach and listen in onto your conversation.

"Jungkook!" You breathed out in surprise, stomach fluttering slightly as you realized what he had just called you.

"Why don't you get her a pair of roller skates?" He ignored you, placing a hand on the table and leaning onto it. You tried your hardest to ignore the way the muscles in his arm flexed with the movement.

You cleared your throat, "Roller skates?"

"Yeah. Every kid has to get a pair of roller skates. It's like a rite of passage."

"I never got roller skates…" You muttered.

"And you were robbed of a childhood." Jungkook informed you solemnly, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Sup." He said suddenly, eyes flickering to Yara as he offered her a casual nod.

You watched in amusement as a pink hue made its way onto your best friend's face, nodding back at him.

Seeing as Yara had remained silent this entire time, you realized it was probably best you introduce the two.

"Uh, Jungkook this is Yara, my best friend. Yara this is Jungkook, my... "

Business partner?

Temporary acquaintance?

"Her boyfriend." Jungkook finished for you cheekily, sending you a wink.

"Fake boyfriend." You reminded, causing Jungkook's eyes to widen.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He stated bluntly, eyes gesturing to Yara forcibly.

Oh. He thought you wouldn't tell your best friend about him? Hah.

"She already knows we're not actually dating–"

An angry shush came from the messy-haired boy, preventing you from talking further.

He hunched closer, eyes flickering across the classroom, "Keep it down, would ya? There are eyes everywhere."

"Sorry, jeez." You apologized dryly, raising a brow as you mimicked his motions.

"Bold of you to assume I won't be guiding Y/N throughout this entire arrangement." Yara spoke finally, her nose turned up slightly.

"Is that so?" Jungkook looked at her in surprise.

"Yep. In fact, I've self-appointed myself manager of your entire relationship." She replied smoothly.

Jungkook grinned, clearly finding humor in her words, "Well, then. With that kind of assertiveness, I'm sure we're in good hands. Nice to meet you, Yara."

"Likewise."

You frowned as your best friend and Jungkook shook hands.

"Anyway, as your manager, my first bit of advice for really selling this whole fake relationship thing is for the two of you to sit together. So if you'll just excuse me..."

At the sight of Yara reaching for her notebook and pen, alarm ran through you.

"Wha– Excuse me, what are you doing?" You protested immediately.

Jungkook, on the other hand, simply grinned. "Great advice!"

"Why thank you, I accept payment in cash and Annie Lennox cassette tapes."

"Yara, where are you even going?" You whined, watching as your best friend chucked her things into her bag.

"To sit at another table. Who am I to keep people in love apart? Jungkook you can take my seat."

Your shoulders slumped miserably as you watched as the smirking boy replaced Yara's spot on the stool beside you.

"Have fun, kids." She teased, waving the two of you off with a hand as she walked over to another table.

"I like her." Jungkook smiled cheesily.

"She's not kidding, you know." You warned. "If she says she's our manager then you better believe it. Whether you like it or not, she's gonna accomplish what she's set out to do."

"Reminds me of you." He replied with a hum.

You blinked in surprise.

"Was that... a compliment?"

"Was it?" His eyes went wide, voice pitched in feigned surprise.

A small laugh escaped you and before you could retort with your own sarcastic comment, your professor began to speak.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I hope you all had a good weekend." Mr. Kim greeted, his usual coffee mug in hand. He looked somewhat worse for wear, you noted. "I did. And as I sat here and reflected the choices I made Sunday night, I came to the conclusion that I will be sparing you the boring lecture this class and putting on a movie.

Widespread chatter of relief fell over the class, everyone elated to hear that this specific class would require minimal effort.

Mr. Kim had just sunk into the chair by his desk when a hand of a student shot up.

"Yes?" He answered.

The owner of the hand spoke up, "Should we take notes?"

Mr. Kim stared at the student with subtle bewilderment.

"I mean if you want? Guys, I'm gonna be honest with you all, I'm hungover as all hell. As long as you watch quietly and keep the lights off, I don't care what you do."

And with that, all the students turned back to chat amongst themselves.

It was funny, Jungkook thought, how easy you were to read when you thought no one was looking. He had been watching you through the corner of his eye, watching the way you hung onto the professor's every word and how disappointment washed over you when you realized there was no learning to be done today.

"Cute." He muttered to himself.

"What was that?" You replied absentmindedly, reaching for a sheet of paper.

Jungkook straightened in his seat, unaware he had said that out loud.

"Nothing."

You paid his reply no mind, however, pencil in hand as you began to write something onto a sheet of loose-leaf paper. Jungkook's head tilted in mild curiosity as he watched, wondering what it was you were doing.

To his surprise, the very paper of interest was then thrust his way, a soft sound ringing out as it rubbed against the cold surface of the lab table.

"What am I looking at?" Jungkook deadpanned. You shifted in your seat before responding.

"I think it's about time we talked seriously about this... relationship of ours. We need to establish rules."

Jungkook glanced back down at the paper.

"I see."

Suddenly, Jungkook's hand reached out for the zipper of his bag. You watched in silence as he pulled out the first writing utensil he could find – a blue marker – and jotted something down quickly.

You frowned, scooting your stool cautiously closer to him to get a proper look at the paper he had just written on.

"What is this?" You frowned.

"I believe it referred to legally as an amendment." He informed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Jungkook, I'm not going to kiss you."

Despite your seriousness, a smile nearly escape your lips at the sight of Jungkook's mouth falling into a pout.

"Why not?" He asked.

You raised a brow, "Um, we're not actually dating? Did you forget that?"

Jungkook let out a small noise of what you could only assume was indignation.

"Not to sound like a total douchebag but the fact that you don't want to kiss me is, like, totally insulting."

"I agreed to be your girlfriend, not some disposable pair of lips you're allowed to use whenever you need your ego stroked. Do I need to remind you that I hardly even know you?" You hissed lowly in case someone was listening in on your conversation.

For a moment it was just you and Jungkook glaring at each other. Neither of you was going to budge, he realized. He let out a sigh.

"Look, I see your point and what this is looking like but I promise you I'm not being creepy here. No one is gonna believe we're together if we don't kiss each other. To anyone that looks, you could just be my friend if we don't show some kind of affection towards each other."

Your arms crossed over your chest, your hard expression not letting up.

"One kiss. That's all I'm asking for. Just a peck, if that's all your comfortable with." He continued, causing you to hum.

He was certainly going to a lot of trouble just for one peck.

Maybe he did have a point. One kiss wouldn't kill you, would it?

"When?" Was your response, taking him by surprise.

"Uh... whenever? Preferably somewhere people will see. Maybe at the Halloween party this weekend?"

You frowned, a thought crossing your mind.

"You want me to kiss you at a party? In front of a bunch of people?"

"Well... not if you really don't want to..." Jungkook replied, suddenly feeling bad that you might really not be all that comfortable with this whole thing.

You shook your head, "No, it's not that."

Kissing Jungkook wasn't as daunting as the idea of doing it in front of a lot of people. It wasn't that you were socially awkward, per se, but the possibility of stage fright was undoubtedly a real one.

You let your thoughts run for a while before you finally came upon a slightly annoying solution. An audible sigh left you as you grabbed your pencil and reached for the paper.

"I don't want to embarrass myself." You told Jungkook bluntly as he read the contract's newest addition, your eyes fixated on the sheet as you couldn't find the courage to meet his eyes.

"So I want our first kiss to be somewhere private where I can make sure I know what I'm doing. Familiarize with... how you kiss... and stuff..." You trailed off, the warmth in your face suddenly too distracting to let you think intelligent thoughts.

Jungkook's eyes were as wide as saucers, glued to the side of your face as if trying to decipher whether or not you were being serious. He assumed you must be as the tone in your voice wasn't mocking in the slightest.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." He nodded quickly, still noticing the way you couldn't look him in the face.

A shit-eating grin found his face, "Y/N, are you embarrassed right now?"

"No." You stressed quickly, looking over at him defensively. Your eyes fell onto his lips against your better judgment and once again you turned away from his stare, heat rocketing through you. "I just don't want you thinking anything weird like this is me wanting to kiss you."

The dark-haired boy pressed his lips together.

"Trust me, you've made your opposition against kissing me abundantly clear." He told you pointedly before reaching for the contract. You watched him gratefully, thankful for the shift in interest.

"I'm serious about there being eyes everywhere. If Kiri finds out the truth, it's game over. I'd look like a total wastoid. Not to mention I'll never hear the end of it from my brothers." Jungkook told you, pushing the paper over for you to read. Tapping the end of your pencil against the table, you pondered something before scribbling else onto the rules.

"Fair." Jungkook expressed. "As long as you can guarantee she won't tell anyone."

"Yara is lonelier than Henry David Thoreau, you have nothing to worry about." You shrugged easily.

"I... have no idea who that is."

"He's a transcendentalist writer who spent two years in isolation–"

"Oh, so you're not just a science freak. You're a well-rounded nerd." Jungkook teased, causing you to scowl.

You grabbed your pencil. You could feel Jungkook lean to peer over your shoulder, laughing lightly as he took in what you wrote. No sooner had you finished, the paper was yanked from underneath your palm, your pretend lover quick to scribble back a response.

And that was how the two of you spent the next twenty minutes, discussing rules and filling the rest of the page, muffled exchanges of giggles catching the attention of students near you as they began to wonder could possibly be on that sheet of paper that had the two of you blushing and whispering like that.

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"Can I put my hand in your pocket?"

The request came seemingly out of nowhere. The class had just finished and Yara had passed by your table briefly only to insist that Jungkook walked you to your dorm, promptly informing you that she and you would not be walking back together as usual, before she left the room altogether.

You sent Jungkook a pointed look as the two of you exited the classroom and walked out into the hallway.

"What like in Sixteen Candles?" You presumed, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "Nice try scumbag, I'm not letting you cop a feel of my ass."

"Why do you assume everything I say has some sort of hidden motive behind it?" Jungkook scoffed. "I was trying to be romantic."

"Oh, really?" You asked, sounding skeptical.

"I mean, sure, getting to touch your ass would've been a nice perk..."

A pleasant laugh escaped you and Jungkook felt something in his chest tightened, and before he could think to warn you, his hand found yours.

You glanced down at the gesture, a shy expression finding you suddenly as you look back up Jungkook, eyes wide and face warm as he offered you a small smile.

"It's no hand in your back pocket but... this should still get the message across to everyone." Jungkook's fingers laced between yours and you tried your hardest to appear nonchalant as if your heart wasn't in your throat right now.

You simply nodded, continuing to walk alongside him as the two of you began your journey towards your dorm building.

It wasn't entirely awful, you found.

Jungkook's hand felt nice in yours. It was warm and soft– your ex wasn't one for PDA so you had always wondered what it might be like to walk around with someone you liked like this.

Shame your first time had to be with your fake boyfriend.

You hadn't realized how social Jungkook was until just now, however. It hadn't been more than a seven-minute walk but more than a handful of people had called out to Jungkook, offering him a greeting and a wave as they went about their days.

You had brought up his apparent popularity to Jungkook but he merely laughed the statement off, saying that it just came with the territory of being in a fraternity.

"Yara's gonna be so proud when she finds out we thought to hold hands all on our own." You brought up on the elevator ride up to your dorm.

The romantic embrace had been severed the moment the metal doors had closed on you two, no longer having an audience to perform for.

"She's quite the character that Yara girl." He noted.

You shrugged, "She's not too bad once you get used to her."

Jungkook shook his head as if you had miss understood him.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. You're a lot like her, you know."

"Am I?" You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Headstrong... passionate... won't take no for an answer... seems like the only person you two would listen to is each other."

You were surprised. Once again, it was a seemingly genuine compliment that had come out of nowhere and you weren't entirely sure how to respond. You clasped your hands behind your back, a grin washing onto you.

"Pretty sure you've got bigger balls than I do." He finished his thought, causing you to snort.

"Sorry if we challenge your manhood." You joked, nudging your shoulder into his just as the elevator door open. You slipped out onto the floor, Jungkook following behind you.

"Oh don't worry about that, babe. You two can test my manhood whenever you want." He told you greasily, a suggestive smirk on his face.

"If I weren't contractually obligated to be nice to you, I would smack you."

You reached the door of your dorm a few moments later, turning to Jungkook awkwardly.

"Well, thanks for walking me." You said.

Jungkook tucked his hand into the pocket of his jacket, shrugging coolly.

"I'll see you in class on Wednesday then."

As if on cue, the door of your dorm unlocked, swinging open enthusiastically, revealing a smiling Yara.

"Wrong. You'll be seeing her tomorrow." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I will?"

"He will?"

You and Jungkook both expressed your confusion in unison. An amused expression fell over Yara.

"I did some thinking on the walk back from class and decided that Jungkook is taking you out on a date tomorrow." She explained before turning towards the man in question. "When do you finish class tomorrow?"

"Uh... three o'clock?" He answered slowly, eyes flickering to yours to see if you had any idea what your best friend was talking about. You didn't, of course.

Yara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Perfect, Y/N's last class is at two. Come pick her up here around four."

"Oh, uh, sure." Jungkook nodded, looking somewhat scared of the small but authoritative girl standing before him.

As if snapping back into reality, you shook your head. "Hold on, I didn't agree to this. Don't I get a say in this?"

Yara's eyes flickered towards yours dully, "No."

She clapped her hands together suddenly, directing her attention back to your pretend lover.

"Thanks for walking her over. We'll see you tomorrow at four. Don't be late, bye!" Yara sang sweetly, hand reaching out to wrap around your forearm.

You let out a yelp as you were tugged into the dorm, door slamming shut as you left behind a perplexed looking Jungkook.

"What the hell was that?! Why am I going on a date with him?"

Jungkook could hear your voice through the closed door, pitched angrily and clearly directed at Yara.

"Third base, Y/N. Don't make me say it again."

"I literally can't stand you."

A small laugh fell from the boy as he stood in his place in the hallway, eyebrows furrowing in amused bewilderment as he wondered how he ended up with not just one but two stubborn fake girlfriends.

[starlocked01]

These Words are Knives

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Virgil doesn't like being a secret boyfriend. He honestly just wants his soulmate to be able to be himself at home and at work. But has Janus ever been himself with anyone? Remus probably. But Virgil and Remus don't know about each other and that's about to become everyone's problem 

Content Warning: Unsympathetic Janus, Swearing, Fighting, Capslock, Emotional Abuse and Manipulation

Day 28 Anxceitmus- A sentence appears on your arm each night recapping something your soulmate said that day. Modified so that it only shows up after you've met them in person.

"If you love me, let me go If you love me, let me go These words are knives that often leave scars The fear, the fear of falling apart Truth be told I never was yours The fear, the fear of falling apart" -This is Gospel Panic! at the Disco

"Oh yes, my girlfriend and I enjoy true crime shows pretty often."

Virgil sighed, staring at the golden letters glowing on his skin. It stung a lot to see his soulmate lie like this every night.

He turned over in bed to face Janus, "I hate your boss."

"Mmhmm, me too," Janus replied flatly, not taking his eyes off the newspaper.

"I shouldn't have to see this. You shouldn't have to keep me hidden from your coworkers," Virgil felt anger knotting at the bottom of his stomach. It truly wasn't fair.

"If he finds out I'm gay, he will fire me. I'm not having this discussion right now," Janus declared with a tone of finality.

"I'm not asking you to out yourself, I'm just upset about the situation," Virgil twisted onto his back and stared at the ceiling, "what does yours say?"

Janus gave an exasperated sigh and made a show of rolling up his sleeve before reading the shiny purple text, "'Oh my god, that would definitely have killed me!' Honestly, Virgil, it was a mouse. Bit of an overreaction."

"Whatever, good night."

"Virgil?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"Love you too."

Well, it wasn't a lie, Virgil is far too trusting of him for him to not mean it when he says he loves him.

Janus could remember back when they'd first met, Virgil wouldn't even give him his phone number. It had been a tedious process getting the anxious man to open up, and it was more than worth it to Janus. The problems only started when he'd met her.

Remus had been completely unexpected; Janus had literally run into her on his way to work. He panicked that first night the neon green script appeared on his arm opposite the purple text. Remus was also his soulmate and unlike Virgil, she was eager to know Janus.

Janus had made his decision to keep his second soulmate a secret the moment he saw the text, and now he sat like a spider atop his web of lies.

Janus glanced over at Virgil as he lay there, clearly not asleep yet, and started humming a lullaby that usually helped Virgil relax. The tension in his shoulders started to ease and soon he was snoring. Janus folded up the newspaper and took the disposable phone out of his nightstand.

R<3: heyyyy sexy i wanna c u tomrw ;]

He smiled and responded, keeping an eye on Virgil to make sure he was still asleep.

J: I agree, at our usual place?

R<3: !!!!!!

He quickly shut off the phone and hid it again before turning off the bedside lamp and rolling over to fall asleep. ---- Truth be told, it was simply easier to talk about Remus at work because they went by multiple pronouns. It also helped that they didn't immediately get suspicious anytime Janus brought them up. Virgil’s concern could be overbearing and it was just easier to stay under the radar of homophobic coworkers who would no longer respect him if they found out.

He didn't feel good about lying; it was survival. But he was good at it.

"Jan!" Remus waved him over as soon as he arrived at the restaurant. He smiled and joined them at their table, "it's been too long, why are you avoiding me?" Remus asked with a grin.

"I'm not, I just don't want to interrupt your work," Janus smirked, taking a sip of his water.

"What? You don't think I could handle you trying to distract me?" Remus laughed happily, leaning over to kiss their soulmate’s cheek.

They laughed and joked all through dinner, gossiping about coworkers, generally having a good time. The time got away from Janus and it was midnight before he realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh! I want to see what your soul mark says today!" Remus beamed, excitedly rolling up their own sleeve.

"You do tend to have quite… entertaining quotes," Janus' smile hid his irritation but he obliged, rolling up his sleeve as well, "'Why don't we eat the babies and call it Swifting?' Really, Remus? Do I want context?"

"You remember 'A Modest Proposal' by Jonathan Swift, right?" he giggled, reading his own quote of the day, "'Honestly, Virgil, it was a mouse.' Huh…" Remus looked confused, "who's Virgil? You don't talk about him but I see his name come up pretty often."

"A coworker. He's not very pleasant to talk with but we often have projects together," the lie was smooth as silk. He knew this one would happen someday and had prepared.

Remus glanced over and saw a streak of purple along Janus’ wrist of his other arm, "what's that?" they grabbed Janus' wrist and pushed the sleeve up before he could protest. They read the words out loud, "'sup, fellow cryptids? I'm your host, Virgil Keir and it's time to talk about why you absolutely should run to the woods to date the Fae.' Wait…" Remus looked up knowingly, "Virgil is your soulmate, not your coworker."

"He can be both. Like I said, he's not easy to get along with-" Janus was sweating under his collar.

"I want to meet him!" Remus exclaimed.

"Why?' Janus was genuinely puzzled by their reaction.

"Hello! I love his youtube channel and you're my easy in! Plus he's your soulmate so he's gotta be important to you, which makes him all the more important to me," Remus grinned happily, "I swear I'm not jealous that you have two soulmates."

Janus let the comment slide past him, "I'll talk with him, but he's rather private. He may not want to meet you. I mean, he hasn't asked about you at all."

"Alright alright. Thanks, Jan!" Remus kissed him again, "wanna stay the night?" they asked with a wink.

"Not tonight, we both have work tomorrow and it's late enough already," Janus gave them a silvery smile while standing to pay the bill.

"Aw man, I can't wait to tell Stormy about this!" Remus pulled out their phone and was already texting with fire in their eyes.

"Who’s Stormy?" Janus asked hesitantly.

"Tumblr mutual. He's like the biggest fan of 'Mothman Mondays'. He'll be so stoked!"

"Ah- well have fun with that. Goodnight, darling," Janus left quickly. This needed to be contained. ---- Virgil stared at his phone in disbelief.

thotiestthoughts: stormy ull nvr guess!!

thotiestthoughts: my soulmate knows Virgil K!!!

Thoti was probably Virgil’s favorite fan, they messaged on tumblr all the time and had become quite good friends, but it was through his anonymous account not the official blog for his show. He debated how he would respond before typing back.

stormcloud07734: wow what a coincidence. r u secretly him? ;)

The best defense is a strong offense, right?

thotiestthoughts: !!!! im so excite!!!!!!

stormcloud07734: that means u must live pretty close to him

thotiestthoughts: u think hes in Orlando???

Virgil smiled. He knew he was in Orlando. But he had a better idea.

stormcloud07734: don't know about Virgil but im in Orlando. wanna meet up?

His heart was pounding. If this were anyone else but thoti he'd never consider it.

thotiestthoughts: OMG WHEN? RN?

stormcloud07734: how about tomorrow?

Virgil smiled at thoti's enthusiasm. They both picked a local cafe to meet in the afternoon and signed off for the night. Virgil didn’t even wait for Janus to get home before falling asleep. ---- Virgil got to the cafe an hour early. He could barely feel his own breathing as his heart felt like it filled his whole chest and stomach. What if he was wrong and thoti turned out to be a creep or stalker? What if he was never heard from again? He hadn't even said goodbye to Janus that morning. He tried to scroll tumblr to calm down, tried to research for his next episode, anything to distract himself from the anticipation and anxiety.

Remus couldn't wait to meet stormy and was practically bouncing around the back seat of xyr Uber. He'd given xem his phone number since they'd never shared photos and xe was trying desperately to not call before xe got to the cafe.

About a block away xyr phone started ringing. It was stormy.

"Hello?" Xe answered breathlessly.

An all too familiar voice answered xem, "hey, thoti, I know you're not here just yet but I have a bit of a confession to make."

"Virgil…" Remus was practically shoved out of the car by the driver as xe was paralyzed in shock. Xe looked up and saw the familiar pale face, purple hair with swooping bangs and dark eyeshadow smiling at him from a table in the corner, phone held to his face.

"Yup, sorry," Virgil hung up as Remus walked over, mouth agape.

"All this time?" xe asked, not ready to sit at the table with one of xyr favorite minor celebrities.

"Yeah, I kinda like participating in cryptid culture without being hounded about my videos," Virgil shrugged with a grin, "come on, sit down. I'm a lot more like stormcloud than I am like my videos."

"I'm Remus," xe stuck out xyr hand.

"Virgil," he snickered and pinched Remus' fingers with three of his own and gave a curt little shake. Xe laughed and sat down across the table, fidgeting with xyr hoodie strings. Virgil gave xem a long look over, "so your soulmate knows me?"

"Oh yeah, I kinda found out last night and asked him to ask you to meet me so if he brings that up, sorry. I just got really excited about it," Remus blushed in embarrassment, "hopefully Janus will be cool about it."

Virgil stopped mid-sip of a mocha latte, "Janus?"

"Yeah, our soulmate."

"You're his soulmate too? I don't believe you," Virgil shook his head.

"I saw both lines of writing on his arms last night, I'm sure of it!" Remus' grin began to falter, "but whatever, right? We're not here to talk about soulmates. I've been so excited to meet you."

"Hang on, how long?" Virgil demanded.

"How long what? My d-"

"How long have you been soulmates?" Virgil smacked the table.

"About 5 months," Remus looked down at the table. This was going terribly.

"Janus has been my soulmate for 2 years and he never brought up a second soulmate. I can't-" Virgil looked like something inside him was dying, "why wouldn't he mention you?"

"He- oh my god he doesn't want me around… and you probably hate me just for existing…" Remus looked up as Virgil laid a hand gently on xyrs.

"No. I don't hate you. We're going to get to the bottom of this." ---- Virgil sat in bed next to Janus who was preoccupied with a book. He didn't know how to bring up Remus and every moment he felt sicker and sicker in his stomach. The frequent fights, the talk at work about a girlfriend, the distance between them, when he thought about it he realized it had only really started 5 months ago.

Janus reached out to take his hand and Virgil instinctively pulled away.

"What's wrong, Virgil?" Janus asked sweetly.

"Don't touch me," he muttered just as the clock struck midnight. He glanced at the yellow text without bothering to read it, "I bet this one is a lie too."

"Virgil, what do you mean? You're acting suspicious," Janus’ mind was reeling. He'd forgotten what Virgil had said he was going to do that day and didn't expect him to be so hostile. He glanced down at the purple text on his arm and asked, "who's 'thoti', Virgil?"

Virgil started to reply when he saw a flash of green on his own arm. He looked and was surprised to find a second soul mark in a dark green scrawl. His phone was ringing and he didn't even need caller ID to know who it was, "are you seeing this too, Rem?" Virgil's eyes flicked over to Janus and narrowed, "a second soulmate, who could have guessed?" Janus kept his face impressively passive at the news and subtle accusation, "okay, see you soon."

Virgil hung up and glared at Janus who simply repeated, "who's 'thoti', Virgil?"

"You insufferable bastard! You know exactly who xe is, your 'girlfriend' our soulmate," Virgil scowled, ready to tear out a throat and leave the body for the wolves. He saw that Remus had texted him that xe was 10 minutes away. Janus had nowhere to run now.

"Her name is Remus. Why would I assume she was your soulmate or that you would give her such a disrespectful nickname?" Janus tried to steer the conversation in his favor.

"You're going to accuse me of disrespect? For the last five months, you have done nothing but lie to us and you're saying I'm the disrespectful one? You can't deflect your way out of this one, babe," Virgil felt his eye twitch. Remus better get there fast if he wanted both soulmates intact.

Virgil was screaming and beating Janus with a pillow when the doorbell rang.

"What the fuck? Is this a confrontation or a sleepover?" Remus burst in the door, finding it unlocked. He ran over and pulled Virgil off of Janus, getting a face full of feathers in the process.

"Oh just casual domestic abuse," Janus picked himself off the floor as Virgil struggled to get out of Remus' grasp.

"I'm going to make him pay, one way or another!" Virgil snarled.

"I don't know, Virgil, I think we can work this out," he blurted out.

Virgil stared at Remus dumbfounded, "you think what? Work this out? He's lied to you the whole time you've known him!"

"So did you," Remus looked down as if ashamed to say it out loud, "I thought you were stormcloud. I gushed about Virgil to you for hours and you never thought to tell me who you really were. I bet you even got content ideas from me and never had to credit them. So how is that different, if not worse, than Janus being scared of you doing exactly what you're doing right now?"

"You really think having an anonymous tumblr is worse than being manipulated for years? Is that what I'm hearing, Remus?"

"I think you're overreacting. I want to try and fix this relationship because we're soulmates and we should be able to make it work," Remus sighed, turning away from Virgil, "I'm not cutting anyone off."

"It's alright, Virgil. I forgive you. Let's figure this out together-"

"NO!" something snapped. Virgil squared up, facing the other two, "get out."

"Virgil," Janus took a step towards him.

"I said, Get Out."

"Oh, did you forget? The lease is in my name. I'm not leaving my fucking apartment. If you don't want to work with us then you can work on getting your own place to live," Janus’ look turned smug and cold as ice.

"Janus, don't kick him out," Remus looked as though he were about to spiral into a panic attack. If he'd just kept his mouth shut for once maybe-

"No, he's right. He holds shelter and food over my head to keep me in line so he can keep a secret fuck boy on the side and expects me to 'work it out' like I'm too scared to fend for myself. Fuck you," Virgil started to laugh with tears streaming down his cheeks. He turned and grabbed his backpack, walking to their room to grab as much of his stuff as he could. Remus followed him, holding Janus back from saying anything more.

"Virgil, please. I don't want to lose you," Remus pleaded softly.

"I thought you were pissed at me for being a liar on the internet," Virgil muttered.

"Maybe, but if I'm willing to forgive Janus don't you think I can forgive you too?" Remus held up his arm to block the door.

Virgil stopped with a heavy exhausted sigh, "I don't want your forgiveness. Remus, if you love me, let me go."

Virgil watched as a tear slipped down Remus' face and he lowered his arm. The rage that fueled him broke and he grabbed Remus in a hug. The other stiffened, uncertain, before relaxing and hugging Virgil back.

"I didn't want to leave you; I just can't stay with him," Virgil fought to keep his voice from trembling as much as his shoulders were shaking.

"I'll see if my landlord can add you on my lease… that way you don't have to leave?" Remus offered hopefully.

"That sounds like a thousand more nights spent screaming. Not a good idea," Virgil broke away from the hug, "thank you, Remus."

"You… you know how to find me if you need me," Remus laughed sullenly.

"Thanks. I'm sorry."

Remus only nodded as Virgil made for the front door.

"If you leave right now, you'll never see him again," Janus spoke from his place on the couch, wine glass in hand, and already half-empty in the short time Virgil spent packing.

"I know. Anything to keep me from fighting you, right? Just watch me find a way to be happy, asshole," Virgil spat before walking out without a second glance back. ---- "Virgil?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"No, you don't!" Virgil hissed, pushing himself away as hard as he could.

"Virgil, I know I'm not your soulmate but I am confident about my feelings for you," Logan looked confused and hurt but all Virgil could see was a cold, sly smile he'd tried so hard to forget. Reality started to blur and Virgil began to hyperventilate while the smirk leered closer, "Virgil, it's me, Logan. In for four."

Virgil focused on the calming voice and followed its instructions. After a few minutes, he could see Logan’s living room, feel the blanket tangled around their feet, the soft touch of his best friend pulling him back from the edge.

"Logan, I- I'm-"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for," Logan held him close, resting his chin in Virgil’s hair, "you were clearly triggered. I did not mean to hurt you and your lashing out wasn't directed at me."

"But I know you aren't him, it's not fair for me to treat you that way," Virgil shuddered, pushing in to be as close to Logan as possible.

"Perhaps not, but I'm choosing to forgive it because I know this isn't easy for you," Logan smiled rubbing small circles on his back, "I will learn one thousand different ways to show you my appreciation and care if those three little words are ineffective and harmful to you."

"I don't deserve you," Virgil's voice was muffled as he buried his face in Logan’s chest to hide the tears threatening to spill over.

"No, you deserve so much more than I can give you, and you didn't deserve what happened in the past," Logan kissed the top of his head sweetly.

Virgil choked back a sob, "don't your soulmates hate me?"

Logan sighed, "no. They are happy together and I am happy for them. It has been a while since I've talked to either Patton or Roman, but I think they're okay with me finding you. Not every breakup is toxic, nor are all soulbonds romantic."

They stayed curled together like that on the couch for quite a while, the movie they'd been watching left forgotten on pause.

"Are you happy, Logan?" Virgil whispered, breaking the easy silence.

"With you, yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise I won't lie to you. I am happy with you, Stormcloud," Logan squeezed him tighter, trying to impart every ounce of his love with the application of force. He never wanted to be the one hurting Virgil, and if he ever met Janus or Remus, there was a baseball bat with their names on it in the corner.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[greyykittyy]

[09/21/2021] 04:24 [Apawcawlypse]: :O 04:25 [Zadias]: Sup 04:25 [Apawcawlypse]: my fur 04:25 [Zadias]: Swiggity 04:25 [Apawcawlypse]: XD  what you up to 04:25 [Zadias]: Probably gonna do torghast 04:25 [Apawcawlypse]: ah ok 04:50 [Apawcawlypse]: no offense but you should leave that guild.. i ncant force you to but it might be wise you do before its too late 04:52 [Zadias]: Eh, I'm not worried about it 04:52 [Zadias]: I helped make it and I like the name 04:52 [Apawcawlypse]: i dont know why you even stay there 04:52 [Apawcawlypse]: like i feel sobad for you 04:52 [Zadias]: Well for one because guilds don't really matter to me, and beyond that Nev is in it so 04:52 [Apawcawlypse]: my guys had a convo earlier about this and its like... 04:52 [Apawcawlypse]: no i mean with nev 04:53 [Apawcawlypse]: in general 04:53 [Apawcawlypse]: we feel bad because you have no choice but to deal with ehr and kiera 04:53 [Apawcawlypse]: thats really sad 04:54 [Zadias]: Eh, don't worry about me 04:54 [Apawcawlypse]: i cant make your choices but i can sit here and tell you thats not a smart move being in a house where a female has control over you and who you talk to 04:54 [Apawcawlypse]: i do worry 04:54 [Apawcawlypse]: cant blame me for being a friend 04:55 [Zadias]: Technically I talk to who I want and I haven't spoken to Kiera in a couple days 04:55 [Zadias]: But I appreciate you worrying about me 04:55 [Apawcawlypse]: tbh if i was in your shoes id tell nev fuck off i will not talk to kiera and you cant force me to 04:55 [Apawcawlypse]: im sorry to be so harsh man 04:55 [Apawcawlypse]: i just feel really bad 04:55 [Apawcawlypse]: you dont need that shit in your life 04:56 [Apawcawlypse]: nev will find out how much of a bitch she is one day and drop her like a bad habbit 04:57 [Apawcawlypse]: me personally i dont have issues with nev.. but kiera is manipulating her 04:57 [Zadias]: Technically she'll probably stay with her - regardless of how much of a "bitch" she is until Kiera breaks up with her 04:57 [Zadias]: It was that way with Fallenstar too 04:57 [Apawcawlypse]: and nev needs to get tough and just boot kiera 04:57 [Apawcawlypse]: kiera knows shes using nev with healy 04:57 [Apawcawlypse]: ive seen it 04:57 [Apawcawlypse]: you have too 04:58 [Zadias]: Wait 04:58 [Apawcawlypse]: you cant sit here any deny that you know its happend 04:58 [Zadias]: I thought you said you didn't care about healy anymore 04:58 [Apawcawlypse]: i didnt say i didnt care, i know if i said anything nev wouldnt belive it anyways 04:58 [Apawcawlypse]: so i said idc she wont listen 04:59 [Zadias]: Eh, idk 04:59 [Apawcawlypse]: you told me neve didnt care anymore 04:59 [Apawcawlypse]: so that says enough 04:59 [Zadias]: Let's not talk about Nev it gets exhausting 04:59 [Apawcawlypse]: well im sorry but someone has to tell you this shit 04:59 [Apawcawlypse]: its obvious you know what i mean 05:00 [Apawcawlypse]: hell id straight up ignore kiera and not give a shit what nev says 05:00 [Zadias]: I've had plenty of people tell me these things 05:00 [Zadias]: I don't care really 05:00 [Apawcawlypse]: you are not her bf you dnt have to do what she says 05:00 [Zadias]: I'm going to be friends with Nev period 05:00 [Apawcawlypse]: im not saying nev im saying kiera 05:00 [Zadias]: If that means I also have to be neutral with Kiera - her mate - so be it 05:00 [Apawcawlypse]: dont let nev tell you its a choice you have to make 05:00 [Apawcawlypse]: thats where you ignore kiera 05:00 [Zadias]: I want Nev to be happy, she wants her best friend and mate to get along, I'm going to make the choice to do that 05:01 [Apawcawlypse]: so you let her control you 05:01 [Apawcawlypse]: you just said it 05:01 [Zadias]: I"m tired of every conversation we have end up having those two as a focus 05:01 [Zadias]: If that's going to continue I"m doing to remove and block you 05:01 [Apawcawlypse]: so you admit to letting her control you 05:02 [Zadias]: I admit to being done listening to you continously claim that 05:02 [Apawcawlypse]: i am not saying to leave nev im saying stop letting her tell you what to do 05:02 [Zadias]: I don't care 05:02 [Apawcawlypse]: -sigh- 05:03 [Apawcawlypse]: i just dont want to see you hurt again 05:03 [Zadias]: If you wanna be friends we can, but I"m not going to keep entertaining these talks and claims 05:03 [Apawcawlypse]: just know that is the only reason 05:03 [Zadias]: I will be hurt again, it's life, it's inevitable 05:03 [Zadias]: I don't care if I get hurt, I've been hurt a million times already 05:03 [Zadias]: I deal with it, I get over it, I move on 05:04 [Apawcawlypse]: well if kiera winds up fucking with you and you lose your home with nev i dont know what else to tell you 05:04 [Apawcawlypse]: thats a problem 05:04 [Zadias]: Bro\ 05:04 [Zadias]: I'm done 05:05 [Apawcawlypse]: im soryr to be point blank bud.. 05:05 [Apawcawlypse]: ill chill.. just dont ever feel like you did anything wrong 05:06 [Apawcawlypse]: where are you i will come sit with you alone and we will change the topic 05:06 [Zadias]: I'm gonna log, too stressed to deal with wow right now

Zaddy — Today at 5:24 AM Look, you don't know what's really going on, I've told you I'm tired of it and that I don't care, you obviously don't seem to listen, I gave you my warning and you failed to heed it. I'm sorry but I'm sticking to my best friend no matter how much I get annoyed with her, I will always stick with her. If you want to continue to talk bad about her and her mate, fine but I'm done. It was nice while it lasted but goodbye and I hope you have a good life.

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

Coder Boyfriends Quarantine Fic

-

I wrote this months ago and never finished it... so yeah take this somewhat complete work. Maybe if enough of y’all like it I’ll write more. Also I’m too lazy to come up with a real title :)

-

They were two weeks into quarantine, and Tobin was officially stuck with a ferret. And it wasn’t even his ferret.

“What are we going to do about this, dude?” He asked Leif one morning, flopping down at their kitchen table and staring at the stupid little creature in his cage across from them. 

“There’s nothing we can do. Colin is stuck with his family in New York, and we promised we would take care of him.” 

“Yeah, for a week! Not for six freaking months!”

“Tobes, you have a commitment to this thing. You have to watch out for it. So for now, you are officially a ferret daddy,” Leif said while holding back a smirk. 

Tobin just glared at his friend.

“I don’t think ferrets are supposed to live in bird cages for months on end.” Leif commented from his spot on the couch. Tobin was busy rearranging the ferret’s living space to accommodate for him being a long term resident. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t just have ferret cages laying around.” Tobin snapped. 

“Why do you have a bird cage laying around?!” 

“I-” Tobin started.

“Hold on.” Leif pulled out his phone. “I think I’m going to want this on tape.” 

“For your vlog?” Tobin asked mockingly.

“The viewers need to know.” Leif cleared his throat and put on a dramatic announcer voice. “So tell us, Tobin, why do you have a bird cage laying around?”

Tobin rolled his eyes. “A few years ago, I got a pet bird. After two weeks of having said bird, I decided I wasn’t cut out for bird ownership so I… I gave the bird away.” Tobin hoped his hesitation wasn’t visible on camera. He hadn’t actually given the bird away. He let it free, but moments after realized it was definitely not a native species. It’s haunted him ever since. 

Tobin snaps out of his bird-guilt to see Leif cackling on the couch. “I had forgotten about that! Dude, you were so bad at taking care of that stupid thing, I’m suprised it didn’t just die.” Leif glances over to where Greyskull the ferret was sitting. “Let’s hope the same thing won’t happen with the ferret.”

“It won’t.” He’s determined to make certain of that. 

“Good.” Leif turns off the camera and puts his phone away before leaning back and watching Tobin continue to move ferret equipment around. Tobin could feel his eyes tracking him, and he had to fight back a blush. He glanced over at his best friend, who was watching with a smile smile that Leif reserved only for Tobin. 

Tobin quickly turned around as he felt his cheeks warming. The beginning of months of quarantine probably wasn’t the greatest time for your best friend to find you’ve been in love with him for years. 

“Tobes hurry up!” Leif called. “The work call starts in five minutes!” 

“I still don’t see why we can’t do this from two different computers.” Tobin replied from his bedroom, rushing to make himself look presentable.

“Because it’s stupid, bro. Everyone knows we live together, and it’s going to get annoying if we’re just talking over each other from different rooms.”

“Okay, fair.” Tobin slides down the hallway and collapses on the couch. He very nearly crashes into Leif, but he manages to stop himself, luckily. 

They log on to the zoom meeting, and Tobin has to stop himself from thinking about how couple-y they look on the camera. Jesus christ dude, you need to stop pining, he tells himself. 

Joan lets them onto the call, and there’s an awkward minute where it’s just her and the two of them. Leif is staring at the ground and Joan staring at her wall. Against all better judgement, Tobin makes a sarcastic comments. 

“Lover’s quarrel, huh?” He regrets it as soon as Leif turns to look at him with hurt in his eyes. He’s about to apologize when Zoey and Max join the call. 

“Hey guys!” Zoey says, and suddenly Joan and Leif perk up.

“Hi Red, ‘sup Max!” Tobin says, ignoring Leif’s stiff body beside him.

“So Tobin, I hear you’re stuck with a ferret.” Max comments, holding back a laugh.

Tobin whips around, staring at Leif. “Max watches your vlog?!” 

Leif just shrugs. “I gave him the password a while back, figured it couldn’t hurt.” 

“Now the whole office gets a glimpse into my private life!” Tobin didn’t know why he was upset about this. He was a pretty open person, he barely shut up about his private life at work anyway.

“Hey, it’s my private life. You just happen to live with me. Why are mad about this?” Leif’s eyes flicked briefly to the computer screen, where it was still just Max, Zoey, and Joan, staring awkwardly at the interaction.

Just as the boys were staring daggers at each other, ready to keep fighting, Joan spoke up. 

“Lover’s quarrel, huh?” The sarcasm and pride in her voice was obvious.

“Wh- I- no!” Tobin stammered, not daring to look at Leif. He stared at the screen, where he saw Max mouth lovers? to Zoey, who promptly elbowed him in the ribs. 

Luckily, right then, a bunch of the other SPRQ point employees joined the call, and the five who were previously there ignored the argument from before as they talked about work things. 

Tobin payed no attention to what was happening, he was too busy staring at Leif from the corner of his eye. Leif didn’t seem mad anymore, just his normal awkward and nerdy self as he talked about the coding projects they were planning to start from home. He laughs at something Max says, and Tobin fights back a smile. Nothing makes him happier than hearing Leif laugh. He notices that his friend’s hair is already getting longer after three weeks stuck at home. It’s curlier, more floppy in the front. He also hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his mini-beard is adorable. Tobin briefly thinks about how much he wants to run his hands through that hair, but then remembers they’re on a work call and he should probably stop that train of thought right there. 

Before he knows it, the call is over. Hopefully he didn’t miss too much, but if he did, he can always ask Leif. 

Leif, however, gets up silently and moves toward the kitchen. Suddenly Tobin remembers the argument they were having. He shoots up from the couch and rushes towards the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry, bro.” 

“Sorry for what?” Leif asks, clearly playing dumb.

“For saying that thing about you and Joan. For getting upset about the vlog thing. For…” Tobin pauses before finishing, “... for what Joan said about us.”

“Ah,” Leif says, holding tight to the glass he’s grabbed from the counter. Neither of them say anything for a moment, and the silence is deafening to Tobin. 

“Look dude, I’m really sorry. I know I shouldn’t have brought up the thing with Joan, I know you’re still pining over her or whatever-”

“I’m not,” Leif interrupts. 

You’re not? There’s a flutter of hope in Tobin’s stomach, but he pushes it down. “Well, regardless, I shouldn’t have said that. And I don’t know why I got so upset about Max watching your vlog. I guess I’m just self-conscious sometimes, no matter how much I act the opposite. And I like having moments that are just between the two of us sometimes.” Tobin really hopes Leif didn’t read into that last part the way he just did as he said it. 

“That makes sense.” Leif bites his lower lip before adding, “what about the last part?”

“What?”

“The last part of your apology. About what Joan said.”

“Uh, I guess she just said it because she was mad at me for saying it about you guys? She saw an opportunity and she took it. She probably only said it because we were arguing like an old married couple. Not that we act like an old married couple. We don’t. It’s just, y’know, we live together, and we were arguing, so we’ve got those two key ‘old married couple’ traits down. But not any of the other ones, not like being in love or married or a couple-”

“Jesus, Tobes, take a breath.” Leif chuckled. “It’s totally fine that she said that, I just was wondering what you thought about it.”

“Oh?” Tobin fights the urge to melt into the floor as a way to forget everything he just said. 

“Yeah. Like you said, we live together, plus we’re both bi, so there’s not really any offense in the joke.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, totally.” Tobin still feels like melting into the floor. He’s saved from doing that, however, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“It’s from Zoey.” He says, mostly to himself. He’s a bit confused. Zoey doesn’t text him much, and when she does it definitely not to say We need to talk. “I think I should answer this.” Tobin walks into his room and locks the door, leaving a confused Leif behind him.

“Hey?” Tobin had barely begun to dial the phone when Zoey answered.

“Hi Tobin.”

“Hi?” Tobin’s even more confused than he was before.

“How are you doing?” Zoey’s voice is strained.

“I’m fine?” Tobin can deal with a few more polite greetings before he snaps and asks Zoey what the heck is up.

“How are things with Leif?” Zoey asks, sounding nervous, which makes Tobin nervous. What is she thinking about me and Leif?

“Good, good. Just chillin’ in quarantine, y’know.” Tobin’s started to pace around his room now. 

“Cool.” There’s a long silence from Zoey’s end.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, you know, sometimes when people, uh, spend a lot of time together…” Zoey trails off and Tobin can almost picture her gesturing vaguely.

“Yeah?” Tobin prompts.

“When people spend a lot of time together… sometimes feelings can develop.” Zoey finishes.

Tobin ignores the pit in his stomach and decides to play dumb. “I’m not going to murder Leif, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“What?! No! I mean…” He can hear Zoey take a deep breath. “Tobin are you in love with Leif?”

Tobin hangs up. 

She calls again. 

He declines.

She calls again.

He declines.

She texts him.

He blocks her number. 

Tobin collapses on his bed. How the hell did she know? It’s not like he and Zoey are best buds. There was that one time she helped him out with the Spelliversary drama, but that’s the extent of their close conversations. And now she hasn’t seen him in weeks, and it only takes one zoom call for her to figure out he’s been in love with Leif for fifteen years?! He screams into his pillow before flopping over and staring at his ceiling. His eyes trace the stars stuck to the wall, flitting over the sharpied-in constellations, and trying desperately not to think about Leif or Zoey.

There’s a knock on his door. “Tobes?” 

Tobin just groans.

The knocking intensifies. “Tobin, please open the door.” Tobin really doesn’t want to, but there’s a desperation in Leif’s voice that he can’t say no to.

He flops off the bed and unlocks the door. “What is it, bro?”

Leif hands his phone to Tobin. “Zoey ne-”

Tobin slams the door in his face.

Before he has time to lock it, however, Leif tries to open it again. Tobin makes a worthy fight against his weight and the door, but eventually his taller friend manages into the room. Leif closes and locks the door and hands the phone to Tobin. 

“Talk.” He says.

Tobin sighs. “Fine.” He gestures to the door. “Leave.” 

“What? No! Dude, you think I trust you to be alone with my phone? I don’t want you seeing everything that’s on there. Plus, you’ll just hang up again, and I for one don’t want my manager’s number blocked on my phone.”

Tobin tries desperately to think of something to say, any reason for Leif to leave other than the truth. But he can’t. And the longer he waits, the more suspicious he seems. So he puts the phone to his ear. 

“Oh hey Zoey, what’s up?” 

“Ok I really want to take the time to be mad at you for blocking my number, but I don’t have the time and Max is mouthing at me to get to the point.”

“Uh huh, okay.” Tobin is trying to act nonchalant. 

“So… are you in love with Leif?” She asks and Tobin prays to any and every existing deity that Leif can’t hear through the phone.

Tobin isn’t sure what to do. He’s strangely scared of Zoey, in all of her five foot tall, quarantined miles away from him, glory. Something about her is making him want to tell the truth. Time for Tobin to pull out those rusty acting skills from when Leif convinced him to do the high school play.

“Uh, yeah, I love watermelon. Why do you ask?” Tobin tries not to cringe as Leif looks at him confused. Watermelon?!

“Tobin, what the-”

He interrupts her. “Leif’s here too, do you wanna ask what he thinks?”

He hears Zoey gasp through the other line. “Ohhh. Um, so, you love Leif. Watermelon. Whatever. How long have you liked him? Are you gay? I didn’t know you were gay. I’m asking too many questions. Sorry. This is hard to do over the phone.”

Tobin sighs. “I’ve been a fan of watermelon since high school.”

“High school?! That’s a long time.” 

“It sure is.” Tobin tries not to stare at Leif, now distractedly fiddling with trinkets on Tobin’s cluttered desk. “Oh and since you asked, I don’t just… love watermelon. I’m also a fan of… grapes.” Tobin hopes this isn’t too confusing of a metaphor for bisexuality for Zoey to grasp.

“So you’re bi?” Zoey asks, catching on. Guess she’s smarter than Tobin thought, although considering she manages their company, he probably should have figured that out. 

“Yeah.” Tobin can’t believe he’s coming out to Zoey Clarke, of all people. And in the worst possible way, too. 

“Cool, cool. So are you planning on telling Leif?”

“No. Too much work, dude. Don’t want to fuck things up, y’know?”

“I know it’s not my place to say so-” Tobin scoffs. It wasn’t her place to ask about this in the first place. “- but I really think you should tell him. It might make things easier, you wouldn’t have to hide your feelings. Then you can… you can love him with no strings attached.”

Tobin freezes for a moment. That sounds familiar. But he can’t remember how right now, and he’s too concerned with other more pressing issues to think of it. 

“I’ll think about it.” He says, lying. He won’t even consider telling Leif. He’s gone on pining for fifteen years, where’s the fun in stopping now?

“Good. That’s good, Tobin. I’m glad you told me.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” He mumbles. Zoey chooses to ignore this. 

“Hey, how about you unblock my number and we can talk some more when Leif’s not there. Only if you want to, of course.” She adds the last part on as an afterthought, seeming to remember that forcing people to talk about their secret gay crushes probably isn’t the smartest idea.

“Sure. Thanks, Zoey. Bye.” He hangs up. Scared, he looks up at Leif, now sitting on Tobin’s desk (that gay disaster). 

“What the hell was that about, bro?” Leif asks.

“Oh, just… y’know… girl things.” And with that, Tobin leaves his room.

Leif doesn’t bring up the phone call again until after dinner, when Tobin is preparing popcorn for their movie night.

“So dude,” Leif calls from the couch. “What was that call with Zoey about?”

“I told you already.”

“No you did not! ‘Girl things’ is not a valid answer.”

Tobin brings himself and the popcorn to the couch, sitting down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Please…” Leif turns to Tobin and rests his head on his shoulder, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

Tobin shoves Leif off of him. “That’s not fair, man, you know I can’t resist you when you give me that face.”

Leif smiles. “Exactly. Come on, man, it can’t be that bad. And no matter how good of an actor you think you are, I know that it wasn’t about watermelon. There’s no way you blocked our boss’ number over watermelon.” 

Tobin tries desperately to think of something believable that’s not the truth. “She wanted help with relationship advice.”

Leif looks concerned. “Is everything ok with her and Max?”

“Oh yeah, they’re fine it was about… her brother.”

“I thought her brother was married?” 

Damn Leif for knowing so much about Zoey’s personal life. “He is! Her older brother, that is. Her younger brother is unmarried and struggling with dating.”

“And she asked you about this?”

“Don’t look so surprised, bro. There’s just something about me that makes people want to open up to me about romance.” Tobin waggles his eyebrows at his friend.

“I’ve known you since third grade and I’ve never once wanted to open up to you about romance.”

“That’s bullshit, man. I was the one who helped you realize you were bi. That’s helping you with romance if I ever saw it.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to. You were just my only friend, and therefore my only option. If I had a choice I would have chosen someone way cooler than you to open up to.”

Tobin glares at him. “Just shut up and watch this movie with me.”

***

Leif knew Tobin was lying. He knew Tobin, and he knew Zoey, and he knew that there was no way the two of them would join forces for relationship advice. But he also knew when Tobin was getting anxious, and he could tell his friend was not ready to tell Leif the truth. So he doesn’t press it.

Leif has an interesting relationship with movie night. On one hand, he loves it. Curling up on the couch with popcorn and his best friend to watch a cheesy movie? That’s basically heaven to Leif. Although heaven might have a few more sketchbooks, and Bob Ross videos, and cardigans, and pretty people complimenting his genius.

One the other hand, movie night was hell for Leif. Tobin always made obnoxious commentary, and threw popcorn at the screen, and laughed way too hard at funny scenes, and cried at emotional scenes. 

And it was simple things like this that made Leif fall more in love with Tobin. So movie night was basically a weekly reminder for Leif that he was absolutely whipped for his best friend and had done nothing about that fact for over ten years.

Halfway through the movie, Leif starts feeling tired. In all honesty, he’s only a little bit tired. But he always plays it up so that every movie night he’s overcome with exhaustion and has no choice but to fall asleep on Tobin’s lap or shoulder.

Okay, so maybe he has a bit of a problem. But hell, this is the only opportunity Leif has to cuddle with Tobin and he will exploit it to the best of his ability, damn it!

So Leif lays his head on his friend’s shoulder, smiling as he doses off, lost in the smell of Tobin’s hoodie.

 “Tobes, I’m going fucking insane.” Leif announces, collapsing on their kitchen table. 

“Ok. What else is new?” Tobin asks him from where he’s sitting eating cereal.

Leif lifts his head a bit. “I’m not kidding. It’s been six weeks of this shit and it’s still only the beginning. I’m way ahead in work so I have nothing to do, I’ve been drawing more than I ever have and my hand is cramping from filling two sketchbooks already, my hair is longer than I’ve ever wanted it to be, and this damn ferret is driving me crazy!”

Tobin nods. “I see. Well, this will take care of the hair problem for you.” He hands Leif what appears to be a hot pink sparkly scrunchie.

Leif takes it tentatively. “What on earth is this?”

“What does it look like? It’s a scrunchie. I’m already rocking one, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Only then does Leif look up fully and realize that Tobin is, in fact, ‘rocking’ a scrunchie. His long brown hair is half-tied up in a weird Sokka-from-Avatar-the-Last-Airbender type look. 

“You look absolutely ridiculous.” Leif says. And cute, he thinks, but would never admit out loud. Because it’s weirdly true- the neon green hair tie look somehow makes Tobin even cuter. 

“And you can too! Just wear it, at least your hair will stop falling in your eyes.”

“I’m not wearing it. Why do you even have these?” Leif hands the scrunchie back to Tobin, who puts it around his wrist.

“Believe me, bro. You do not want to know.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Leif stands to get himself a bagel.

“Oh and by the way, don’t you dare disrespect my son, Sir Greyskull the Brave.” Tobin stares lovingly at the ferret.

Leif rolls his eyes. “I miss start of quarantine Tobin, who wouldn’t shut up about how much he hated the ferret.”

“Leif, don’t be rude. He’s grown on me, and he should grow on you too.”

“I’m never going to let a ferret grow on me.” Leif remarks as he returns to the table with his bagel. “But seriously, dude, I need things to do.” 

“Okay…” Tobin looks contemplative. “How about after we both finish work for the day, we play some old-fashioned, kids-sleepover party games, just the two of us. You know, truth or dare, two truths and a lie, never have I ever, stuff like that. But since we’re not kids, we can play it the fun way: with booze.”

Leif realizes the endless ways this could go wrong- getting drunk with your crush and playing truth or dare? That’s a high-school level bad decision right there. But he’s too bored to say no.

“Sounds good to me.”

Leif, of course, finishes work around four in the afternoon. Tobin, on the other hand, has been procrastinating his work for weeks and still isn’t done by seven. So Leif decides to fix dinner. Might as well have a nice meal together before they get absolutely wasted and Leif admits things he doesn’t want to admit. 

Tobin finally comes out of his room a little before eight, just as Leif is setting the stirfry he made on the table.

“Oh, sweet, food!” Tobin sits down and starts eating.

“Yes, I figured I might at least do something with the hours I’ve spent waiting for you to finish.”

“Hey!” Tobin says with a mouth full of food. “At least I did the work!”

“That’s true, but if you had done any of the work throughout the week, you wouldn’t have to spend so long on it.”

“Yeah, well, where’s the fun in that?”

Leif sits down and takes a bite. “Oh, of course, how could I forget. Nothing screams fun like putting work off until the last possible minute.”

“See, this is why you went to some fancy college while I went to jail!” 

Leif stares at him. “One of those things is considerably better than the other, and I’ll tell you right now, it’s not jail.”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? We both have the same job, and you’re only a little bit higher ranking than me. But let’s be real, that’s probably only because you fucked the boss.”

“Shut up.” Leif says, and he means it. He hates when Tobin brings up his whole fling with Joan. It’s been over a year, and Leif has made it abundantly clear that he’s over it and doesn’t want to talk about it, but Tobin doesn’t listen. Nothing’s worse than the guy you love constantly bringing up your bad past relationships.

“I’m not wrong though-”

“Tobes.” Leif looks up from his plate. “Please just drop it.”

“Okay! I’m sorry I brought it up, I was just trying to make a joke.”

“Whatever. Just… don’t do it again.”

They eat in silence for a while, and Leif’s worried that he’s crushed the vibe of the evening.

“So, Tobes, how much are you planning to drink tonight?”

“All of it.” Tobin replies.

“All of our alcohol?” It’s not that it’s that much- they don’t keep a lot of drinks at home, since they usually just go out to bars. But they can’t do that anymore. 

“Yep. It’s been too long since I’ve been drunk.”

“Okay, you make a fair point, but I raise you this point: if you drink all we have right now, you have to suffer however many more months we’re stuck in here sober.” 

Tobin pauses for a minute- he clearly hadn’t thought of that. “Ah, fuck that. We can buy more online or something. Live in the moment, bro.”

Right. Live in the moment. Leif gulps. This isn’t going to end well. 

Well, Leif was definitely living in the moment. At least, that would explain why he’s opening his mouth and asking Tobin, “ok, ok. What’s… what’s a secret you’ve never told anyone before?”

Leif lifts his head from where it’s laying on the couch so he can judge Tobin’s reaction. It’s three hours after dinner and they’re both plastered.

“Uh…” Tobin takes a while to respond, and Leif can’t tell if he’s nervous about the question or just too drunk to think.

When Tobin still doesn’t respond, Leif starts to panic. He may be drunk but he can still remember how stupid a question that is to ask your crush. 

“Oh! I’ve got it!” Tobin finally answers. “So… y’know the bird I had? For two weeks?” His words are slurred.

“Yeah?” Leif is both relieved and disappointed that the answer is about a bird.

“I didn’t give it away.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t give it away like I said I did. I set it free.”

Leif pauses for a moment, then bursts into laughter. “You set it free?! Dude, that’s an exotic bird!”

“Well I realize that now!”

“Tobes, what if you accidentally created a mutant species of a tropical bird and a-whatever birds live in San Francisco! You could be famous but for, like, a really bad reason.” Leif can’t stop laughing.

“I know that! I’ve been haunted by my actions for years! That’s why I’ve never told anyone!”

“Bro, how are you sober enough to say haunted by my actions? That’s fancier than you usually talk, let alone after however many drinks you’ve had.”

“Maybe the alcohol powers me. I should have it more often.”

“Yes, do, maybe you’ll admit more bird-related crimes.” Leif says, still through fits of giggles. He slowly sits up and flops on the other side of the couch, his head almost touching Tobin’s legs.

“I really hope you don’t remember this tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh I will. Trust me, I will.”

“It’s my turn to ask a question, right?” Tobin asks.

“Yeah, though I doubt you can get me to admit something that will top your bird confession.”

“Well, what about you?” Tobin asks suddenly.

“What about me?”

“What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?”

And maybe it’s just for Leif, maybe the drink is going to his brain, but it seems to him that the whole mood shifts dramatically as Tobin says that.

He has an answer, of course. And the part of his brain that’s still sober knows he can’t say it out loud.

But a much larger part of his brain is drunk, and drunk Leif tends to speak impulsively. Drunk Leif tends to do things like sing an Air Supply song to his ex. 

Drunk Leif is opening his mouth. 

Drunk Leif is saying, “I’m in love with you.”

There’s a long pause, and the realization of what he just did is setting in. Leif sits up and turns so he’s face to face with Tobin, who has a blank expression.

Finally, he speaks. “... well that tops my bird confession.”

“Tobin, I-”

Leif doesn’t have time to finish before his friend is kissing him.

Sober Leif would pull away. Sober Leif would talk through his feelings, and ask Tobin how he felt, and take things slow.

But Sober Leif isn’t here.

Which possibly explains how the next thing he knows, it’s morning, and he’s still on the couch. And Tobin is sleeping on top of him. And neither of them are wearing a shirt.

Well, shit.

Leif tries to move out from under Tobin without waking him, because he’s currently far more concerned with his throbbing headache than the fact that he made out with his best friend last night.

Of course, Tobin wakes up anyway. He stares sleepy-eyed at Leif, who’s putting on his crumpled up shirt.

“Where- what-” Tobin looks around before running his hand through his bedhead. “Fuck, did we-”

“I’m going to get some food and water.” Leif says, not looking at Tobin. He goes to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water, but Tobin is still talking despite Leif’s obvious signs that he doesn’t want to talk.

“Dude, come back here, we should tal-”

“I’m going to check my email.” Leif says, rushing into his room and locking the door behind him.

Leif falls on the bed and screams into a pillow. 

Fuck!

He’s tempted to just close his eyes and fall back asleep, ignoring the pain and the consequences of his actions.

And he may have done just that, had it not been for the incessant knocking at his door. 

“Go away!” Leif shouts, still muffled by the pillow. 

“Dude, just open the door. You’re acting immature.” Had Leif not been so hungover, he would have laughed at that. He’s the immature one?!

He continues to ignore Tobin, and once again almost dozes off but then he hears the door swing open.

He sits up very slowly and turns around. “How did you get in here? I locked the door!”

Tobin holds up a paper clip and grins. “I hacked into the CIA, do you really think I wouldn’t know how to pick a lock?”

“Well, you’ve never done it before, how was I to know?”

“That’s because,” Tobin sits on the corner of Leif’s bed. “I usually try to give you your privacy. But I thought that this situation was more important than your privacy.”

“Gee, thanks.” Leif sits up a bit more, clutching to the bedsheets to avoid getting dizzy. “You seem surprisingly sober.” Leif remarks.

“Yeah well, I handle my alcohol better than you. Plus I’ve been hungover way more than you, so I’m more used to it. Plus-” Tobin stops talking abruptly and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Plus what?” Leif asks, suddenly also feeling a lot more sober. Tobin doesn’t respond, and the longer the silence between them grows, the more Leif remembers last night’s events. “Tobes, plus what?” He asks again, more desperate this time.

Tobin takes a deep breath. “Plus having the love of your life say he likes you too and kiss you back tends to clear your mind.” 

“The… I… what?” Leif can’t process anything that Tobin just said to him.

Tobin looks up at Leif with fear in his eyes. “Okay, well maybe love of my life is a bit dramatic, but it has been fifteen years, so it’s not that far off.”

Leif still doesn’t respond.

“...Oh.” Tobin says in a small voice. “Well, if you don’t actually- if you- if that was just a drunk Leif thing, if you… didn’t mean it… that’s fine.” The way his voice cracks shows that it’s clearly not fine. 

Leif thinks his brain is broken. 

Tobin stands from the bed and shakily moves towards the door, but luckily Leif’s mind and ability to move kick back in right then.

“Wait!” He tries to stand up but falls on the floor. So much for that ‘ability to move’ thing. 

Tobin turns around and despite the hurt expression he’s still wearing, he laughs a bit. “Bro, are you ok?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just hungover. And in shock.” Leif stands up again and rubs his head. “But please, wait. Sit back down.”

Tobin does so, even though he still looks like he desperately wants to leave.

“Tobes…” Leif starts. This would be a lot easier to do if he wasn’t in immense amounts of pain. “It wasn’t just a drunk Leif thing. I mean, sober Leif wouldn’t have done it, but that’s just because he’s a coward. It doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it.”

Tobin looks up, a small smile on his face. “Yeah?”

Leif smiles too. “Yeah.”

They both look down, smiles still on their faces, blushing.

“So…” Leif says after a while. “Fifteen years, huh?”

“I… uh, yep.” Tobin says. “Ever since eighth grade, when you showed up to that stupid school dance in that stupid baby blue suit, and tiny Tobin just went ‘shit, do I like guys?’ and then tiny Tobin grew into slightly larger Tobin and went ‘yep, I definitely like guys, specifically the guy who’s been my best friend since third grade’ and then slightly larger Tobin grew into an even bigger Tobin who decided that fact was very embarrassing and he should never tell it to anyone and then even bigger Tobin grew-”

Leif cut him off with a small kiss.  “I think I get the point, Even Bigger Tobin.” He says, laughing.

“Oh no, I’m not even bigger Tobin, I’m biggest Tobin. Even bigger Tobin was sometime around college.”

“Of course, my bad.” Leif laughs. He nudges Tobin with his knees. “You’re smitten, you loser.”

“Well you don’t seem very… whatever the opposite of smitten is yourself.”

Leif smiles at him. “I’m not. It’s been a bit over ten years on my end.”

Tobin does a double take. “Over ten years?!”

“Yes?” Leif answers, confused. 

“You’re telling me I could have been gettin’ some of this for over ten years?!” Tobin gestures to Leif’s whole body, and Leif tucks into himself, self-conscious. 

“I’m not quite sure I would word it like that, but… yeah? I guess?”

“Jesus.” Tobin shakes his head, looking disappointed. “I should have just said something.”

“I should have too.” Leif says quietly. “But hey, it only took me ten years, quarantine, and copious amounts of alcohol.”

“I should get you drunk more often.” 

“You don’t need to get me drunk anymore. You have me.”

Tobin smiles. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Tobes?” 

“What?”

Leif leans in and kisses him. “Let’s make up for lost time.”

***

“Hey,” Leif starts, sitting down at the table where Tobin is already eating. It’s the day after The Big Confession™, as Tobin has decided to call it.

“Hey?”

“Don’t think that just because we’re dating now it means I’ve forgotten about your secret life as a bird criminal.” Leif smirks at him. 

“Oh, geez.” Tobin forgot that he admitted that.

“And I will turn you into the authorities if need be.” Leif adds with a faux-serious face.

“Really? And betray your own boyfriend like that?!” Tobin doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to using that word.

“Sorry, babe. I care more about the good of bird-kind.” Leif stands to get food and stops to kiss Tobin’s forehead. It takes all of Tobin’s self control not to melt. 

“Hey, you know we have a work call in an hour, right?” Tobin asks, leaning his head back over his chair so he can see Leif.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Well, I was just wondering how we act. Y’know, now that… yeah.”

“You have such a way with words.” Leif says sarcastically, returning to the table. “But since you asked, I wasn’t planning on saying anything. They’re our coworkers, they don’t need to know about our dating lives.”

“I just thought I should tell Zoey.”

Leif raises an eyebrow. “Zoey? Out of all the people we work with, Zoey would be the last one I would think to tell.”

“It’s just, she…” Tobin pauses. “Remember the watermelon call?”

“Of course.”

“It wasn’t about watermelon. And it wasn’t about her brother’s dating life, or whatever bullshit excuse I came up with. It was about us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. Zoey asked if I liked you. I still have no idea how she knew, or why she thought it important enough to call me about, but she did. So I feel like I should tell her.”

Leif sighs. “If you want to tell her, go ahead. But I’m never sharing anything with Zoey Clarke unless I’m forced to.”

“Dude, she’s not really that bad, you know. When you and I were in that weird fight, she was actually pretty nice to me, in her own awkward way.”

Leif sighs again. “Yeah, but it’s been fun to have a workplace rivalry for as long as I have. I don’t want to give it up now.”

“Geez, babe, you’re petty.” 

“And you’re pretty.” Leif says, staring at him with fondness in his bright blue eyes. Tobin blushes.

“That was barely an opening.”

“And yet…” Leif grabs Tobin’s arm and pulls him in for a kiss. “I took it.”

Tobin doesn’t know why he’s nervous for the call. There’s nothing obviously different about the way he and Leif are sitting or how they look in the camera. It’s the same as last time, squished together awkwardly in front of the camera. Maybe that’s the difference. They don’t look awkward anymore. They look happy to be this close. Is it obvious to others or is Tobin just overanalyzing the situation?

“Tobes, chill out, I’m about to join the call.”

“I’m chill!”

Leif gives him a look. “No you’re not. You do realize it’s going to be way more obvious that something’s up with us if you’re visibly panicking.”

“Fine.” Tobin gestures at the computer. “Start the call.” 

Leif does, and this time the only people on are Zoey and Max, since Joan’s not involved with this particular meeting.

“Hi you two!” Zoey says, stopping whatever secret romantic conversation she was having with Max and paying attention to the new members of her call.

“Hi Zoey.” Tobin says tensely, and Leif nudges him subtly, another message for Tobin to chill.

“Hey.” Leif nods at them.

“Anything new with you guys?” Max asks, and Tobin mentally smacks his head, remembering that Max heard him and Zoey’s call, too. 

“Uhh…” Leif turns to Tobin and cocks his head. 

Tobin knows he said he wanted to tell Zoey about them, but he’s currently regretting saying that. 

He decides to go for a subtle approach.

“Not much.” Tobin says, winking, and taking Leif’s hand. He plops his head on Leif’s shoulder and feels his boyfriend relax. 

Zoey’s smile is wide. “Not much on our end either.” She says, although she presumably means it.

The rest of the call goes fine, Tobin lifts his head from Leif as soon as someone else joins, and although they keep holding hands under the view of the camera, no one seems to suspect anything.

“Hey,” Tobin says, once again putting his head on Leif’s shoulder as soon as the call is over.

“Hey what?” Leif asks.

“I just thought of a new way we can pass the time.” Tobin says with a smirk.

“Oh? What’s that?” 

“This.” Tobin says, moving so he’s sitting on Leif’s lap. 

“Oh?” Leif says again, blushing.

Tobin kisses him passionately. Like Leif said, they have a lot of time to make up for. And maybe, just maybe, they can make up fifteen years worth of missed kisses, and soft glances, and tender touches, and exploring each other’s bodies in the dark over the course of months stuck at home together.

***

“Two and a half months. Two and a half months!” Leif shouted to no one in particular. Tobin sticks his head out of their room- yes, their room. A week or so ago they decided it was pointless to have two rooms so Tobin’s room is more of a guest room/office now- and hollers to Leif. 

“I swear to god, if I come out there and you’re making more baked goods, I will throttle you!”

Leif smiles to himself. “Is that a threat or a promise?!” He calls back.

He can hear Tobin say. “There’s a time and place, dude.”

“Not in quarantine, there isn’t!”

“You are quite purposefully avoiding my baked goods accusation and I’m coming to the kitchen, so you better be hiding all evidence of cookies!”

Leif doesn’t bother trying to clean up the mess of a kitchen in front of him.

“I knew it!” Tobin shouts, startling Leif.

“I’m sorry, ok! It’s just, baking is fun, and very few things are fun anymore and I need something to do otherwise I’ll go crazy!” 

Tobin puts his hands over his ears. “I’m not listening! If I have to clean up flour from this kitchen one more time I’m going to lose it.”

Leif just crosses his arms. “What about that promised throttling?”

Tobin faux-lunges at him, and Leifs arms flash out and pull him in for a kiss.

Tobin pulls away after a moment. “You taste like cookie dough.” He kisses Leif again. “Could be worse, I guess.”

[anniebibananie]

Arya and Jon go back to Winterfell after they kill Dany to find Gendry and Sansa waiting for them. Please and thank you!

hi this turned into a weird brotp fic really but also there’s romance. also ghost is here because i said so. enjoy!!

Winterfell was quieter with the war on someone else’s doorstep. Sansa wasn’t sure how to fill all her time as she sat with the silence around her. She could continue making plans for repairs, but with the fighting men gone there was little they could do with those left behind. And her eyes could look at embroidery and needlepoint for only so many hours a day.

It was sort of empty—Winterfell without her family. Sansa could walk, though, and a week or so after Jon and Arya had left she found herself doing so past the forge. Maybe it was a longing, a sort of half-thought to Arya that pulled her in. Perhaps a sort of loneliness, really.

He was bent over something small, working with a concentration that Sansa found admirable. When he looked up and spotted her, he quickly stood to his feet.

“Lady Sansa.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Was there something I could do for you?”

She found a small smile playing at her lips, filled with amusement. He seemed sweet, and Sansa thought of Arya. Part of her wanted to know everything that had happened between them, not just the small bits of information Arya had been willing to share. Why was he here? she wondered. Where she is not.

“I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to dine with me tonight?” She held her hands in front of her. The forge was warm, and she already felt her palms grow slicker. “If you have other plans or lack the time, then don’t fret about it.”

I’m lonely, she thought but would never say. I miss my family.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s nonstop as of late,” he joked, but then he stood up straighter and cleared his throat as if he realized which Stark sister exactly he was speaking to. “I mean no offense, of course.”

She hummed. “I wouldn’t have asked you to sup if I wanted fake courtesies. I thought you might be missing my sister the same way I am. That is all.”

“I…” he trailed off, looking down at his shuffling feet and scratching at the back of his neck. He looked up again, and while Gendry wasn’t the sort of man Sansa could see herself falling for she saw the appeal. He was handsome—a durable, stable sort of man. “Yes. I’d like that.”

She nodded then, trying to hold back her smile. “I will see you tonight.”

__

“I might have…” Gendry paused, taking another sip from his cup as Sansa positioned her chair closer to the fire. “Well, I sort of proposed to her after that. I asked her to be the lady of Storm’s End.”

Sansa brought a hand to her mouth, covering it quickly as a laugh burst through. “I apologize. I don’t mean to laugh, I just—”

“Oh,” he near wailed in a way that made Sansa laugh again, “I was so stupid. I really got over excited because I was a lord and—”

“It’s sweet,” she said, leaning forward. “You love her.”

He shook his head as he looked down into his wine. “I should have known she wouldn’t want to marry. She’s got better things to do then sit around in some castle with the likes of me.”

“You love her,” Sansa repeated, articulating the words as they bounced off her tongue. “I know my sister. I have to admit there are things we’re still relearning about one another, but I know her. We spent a long time apart, but she’s my sister. She loves you, too.”

His eyebrows pushed together. “Then, why…”

“You asked her to be a lady,” Sansa said. “She wants you, not the titles or the castle or any of it. If you ask her better, she might say yes next time. Or perhaps not. She would say yes to you, though.”

She took a sip of her own wine, then, as she eyed out into the dark sky. It was getting late, and if she let Gendry stay for much longer she could only imagine the gossip that would rise around the castle. He was a lord now, after all, and people were expecting her to wed. Years ago, it had been another Baratheon she was promised to. It wouldn’t have seemed that far of a stretch to the imagination, she supposed.

“What about you, Lady Sansa?” he asked. “Have you been in love?”

The wine made her feel lighter. He was certainly feeling it himself with the way he had opened up about her sister.

“I think…” the words trailed off, and she thought about it then. Telling Gendry everything. Confiding in him. Perhaps it would feel as sweet as the wine they shared. She sighed. “It’s getting late,” she said instead.

The legs of his chair screeched against the stone of the floor as he stood. “Of course. Good night, Lady Sansa.”

“Gendry,” she said, waiting for him to turn. “You can call me Sansa. And I would like to do this again, if you can find the time.”

He smiled again. “My time is far less precious than yours. You can have however much of it you want, Sansa.”

She watched him exit with an inescapable smile on her lips.

__

It had become a sort of routine, the two of them. They didn’t eat together every night, but they saw each other often enough. Some days, Sansa would find him in the forge. Others, he joined her for a walk in the woods.

Nights together, though, remained Sansa’s favorite. It was when the loneliness crept in the most, and instead of having to deal with it alone she had Gendry by her side. The wine helped loosen their tongues, but these days there was an honesty that resided between them without it.

“This is Jon’s dog, right?” he asked one night from the floor as he was petting Ghost.

“Yes. Ghost,” Sansa said as she looked up from the shirt she was fixing the sleeve of for him. Ghost tilted his head, and Sansa smiled at him. “Jon almost let him leave with the wildlings.”

“But you didn’t let that happen?” Gendry asked, petting behind Ghost’s ears.

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think Jon was feeling quite himself.”

Gendry paused and sat up straighter. “How so?”

Sansa’s eyes were trained on the flames. “I’m quite certain he thought he was going to die. Or at least not return. Even if that’s the case, Ghost is part of the Stark family. He stays with me.”

As if sensing her words, Ghost stood to curl around Sansa’s feet. She bent forward and pet his head, feeling a familiar fondness swirl through her. 

“You love him,” Gendry said suddenly, the thought clearly striking him all at once.

“Ghost?” Sansa asked lightly as she dipped forward to pet at his fur. “Yes, obviously.”

“Jon,” Gendry corrected.

Sansa’s body froze. She looked at him slowly, as if with each movement she was trying to decide just how to respond. Then, because Gendry was looking at her without judgement and the softest bit of affection that went straight for her chest and throat, she nodded. “Yes.” It was barely a whisper.

“He’s your cousin now. You could marry him, couldn’t you? When he returns.”

“I fear that the Dragon Queen has her claws in him.” She dropped the shirt into her lap, giving up on finishing that fine stitching that required too much of her focus. “They might be too deep. He might not want them to stop being deep.”

“You think he loves her?” he asked. There was a shock in his voice that surprised her.

“I think he has done what he felt he needed to to keep us safe and alive. I think at some point, the lines of need versus want may have become blurred.”

“I think…” Gendry began, his mind seemingly working hard if his furrowed brow was anything to go by, “he would prefer to be here. Home. With you all.”

Sansa appreciated the thought. She imagined Jon sitting back beside her again. She pictured Arya on the floor with Bran wheeled in, too. She even kept Gendry there. All of them together. It would be sort of wonderful.

“Maybe in another world I could have married you, Gendry Baratheon,” she said with a sad sort of smile.

He reflected it right back to her. “I’ll always be Gendry Waters, though. Won’t I? Bastard boys like Jon and I. That’s who we’ll always be, really.” The silence sat for a minute—not unkind, not uncomfortable. “I think you and I were probably always destined to love difficult people.”

“Yes, I think so, too,” Sansa nearly whispered, for some reason feeling a tear drip down her cheek. Before she could reach for it, Gendry was in front of her and wiping it away with the rough pad of his thumb.

“It would be nice, though,” Gendry said with a soft smile. “A low-born bastard could do a lot worse than someone like you, Sansa.”

“A cold Northern lady could do worse than someone like you, Gendry.”

She reached out a hand. He clasped it in return.

__

The Dragon Queen was dead. The letter had said it, and that meant many things. There were politics to be figured out. There were people who now needed homes and supplies. There was a future. Jon and Arya were alive. Mostly, selfishly, she cared only that it meant they would be coming home.

Sansa ran with the scroll in one hand, her skirts in the other, and found Gendry where she found him most days. 

“They’re coming home,” she said breathlessly. She did not say they’ve won. She wasn’t sure any of them felt as if they actually had. What was winning when there was so much death? Destruction they wouldn’t be able to possibly all fix in their lifetimes?

“Arya, too?” he asked. 

Sansa nodded, and he reached forward to clasp her in a hug. She let him twirl her around, her feet lifted from the ground, and she laughed with true, boisterous joy for what felt like the first time in months. 

__

Sansa and Gendry stood side by side when they returned. He had wanted to hide away in the forge, sure Arya wanted nothing to do with him despite Sansa’s words to the contrary, but Sansa had put an end to that. 

“You must,” she had said with a raise of her brow. “Would you deny your Queen?” 

He lifted up his hammer, pointing it at her. “See. That’s just dirty. You’re playing dirty.” 

She sighed with a roll of her eyes. “How about for me, then? I could use your support.” 

“Fine.” He sighed, bent back over the sword. “For you, then.” 

Jon came toward her with slow steps. It seemed as if he had aged years since she last saw him, but there was something open as he got closer. With each step he seemed wearier, more tired, but it was as if he was opening that door to allow her to see it. 

“Sansa,” he said as he reached forward, cupping the back of her head and resting his own face into her neck. She could feel his breaths against her skin. 

“You’re home now,” she said, trying to hold him tighter into herself. Maybe if she could bring him closer, hold him together, then he would feel more whole. He could feel safe enough to finally rest. 

__

“What’s going on with you and Gendry?” Arya asked only a day later. 

Sansa had been looking over notes at her desk, and she hadn’t heard the intrusion. Her heart jolted, and she brought a hand to her chest. 

“I thought we agreed you would be more wary of frightening your dear sister.” 

“Sorry.” She did not sound that sorry. Arya sat on the edge of the desk, wrinkling a scroll and throwing an apple up and down in smooth swoops. She caught it with a crisp snap. “He keeps talking about you.”

“We spent a lot of time together without you here.” 

Arya raised a brow, and Sansa leaned back in her chair. 

“I didn’t steal him, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“He’s a person, not chattel. You couldn’t steal him.” 

“Of course I couldn’t,” Sansa agreed. “Especially because he’s yours. He loves you, you know. He told me all about his tragic proposal. You might try talking to him. Properly so.” 

Arya sighed, her gaze trailing away from her sister to the light from the window. “I know.” 

“He’d give you whatever version of a future you wanted,” Sansa advised, dipping closer to her sister. “He just wants you.”

Arya turned to look at her over her shoulder, and she looked young. Sometimes, Sansa forgot that they were all barely more than children really. They had picked up their parent’s wars and ran with them, never getting the time to figure out what any of them wanted. 

“Jon feels the same way about you,” Arya said. “He loves you, I’m pretty sure. I am usually quite good at picking up on those sorts of things these days.” 

Sansa tilted her head. She was sort of surprised Arya would talk about it so willingly, but she thought it might have been a sort of gift Arya offered her. Maybe after all the death of King’s Landing, Arya was simply happy to be home and love her sister, whatever the strangeness that surrounded her love life may be. Sansa hoped that was the case. 

“He loved her.” They had been beautiful together. Sansa still thought about them sitting side by side at her table, the way Jon and her used to before she came, and how powerful they had looked. “I don’t know if I could handle him loving me in halves because of what he still feels for her.” 

“You should try talking to him,” Arya said as she popped back up to her feet and took a bite from the apple. “Maybe we both should try talking to these stupid boys.” 

Sansa laughed. Months ago, she never would have imagined getting to this. “Maybe we should.” 

__

Despite her conversation with Arya, Sansa let Jon rest for a few days before seeking him out to speak. That was what she told herself, anyways. It had nothing to do with fear and the idea that she had no idea where to start. Nothing at all. 

She went to his chambers after supper, and she knocked. For a minute, she was sure he would not answer. Then he pulled open the door, and Sansa was shocked for a minute at the look of him. 

His beard was cleaned up, his face looked fresh, and his hair fell freely around his shoulders. It was the most put together she had seen him in some time. He looked well-slept, and when she walked past him into the room it felt like he was at least attempting to step into whatever the future would be. There wasn’t the familiar weight of the past or the unbearable urgency of the present hanging anywhere in sight. 

“Is this about Arya and Gendry?” he asked. “I already told them I wouldn’t say anything until—”

“Did you walk in on them?” Sansa asked with a bit of surprise. She laughed as his face turned sour, a true belly-full laugh. “No, I didn’t come here to talk about Arya and Gendry. Though, I’m glad they’ve worked it all out.” 

“And you’re not upset?” he asked. 

“Should I be?” she returned with a tilt of her head. 

“I heard you and Lord Baratheon have grown quite close in our absence.” His face didn’t look angry, though, just teasing. Maybe a little sad, if anything. 

“I’m sure you’ve learned at some point that we need friends outside of our family,” Sansa said. She smiled, feeling unable to carry any sort of heaviness tonight across from him. “No, my heart never could have belonged to him, anyways. I’d given it to someone a while ago, though I was certain they’d already given theirs to someone else.” 

Jon’s brows crashed together, and she wondered if she had perhaps been too vague or if he would catch her meaning. Maybe she had crossed a line.

“Sansa,” he began, soft and slow as he stepped nearer her, “are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

She shrugged. “You’d have to be a bit more specific on what you’re thinking. I’ve found I’m not always sure what that is.” 

He released a long breath. “I never loved her. I couldn’t, not when I’d chosen to love someone else already.” 

Sansa was afraid to hope, to dare it to be true. Maybe that was all they had for the future now, though, an opportunity to open themselves to the fear and joy of actual happiness. She held onto Jon’s face, and he didn’t pull back. 

“You love me?” she asked, feeling fragile and cracked open and a million other dangerous things. 

He nodded. “I do.” Then, he broke the space between them and kissed her soundly. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, she kissed him back with only love and joy. Only with peace. It felt like coming home. It felt like they already were home, and finally they knew it wasn’t going anywhere. She was surprised to find she could feel herself growing used to the feeling already. 

__

Gendry found her standing between the battlements, looking off at the rolling lands beyond the castle walls. It was a nice day, and Sansa thought she could perhaps feel the winds of spring already falling over the North. 

“You were right, you know,” Gendry said. “It really pains me to say it.” 

“You were right, too,” she said, turning toward him and giving a teasing smile. “Though, probably not as right as I was.” 

“Maybe we don’t love quite as difficult of people as we thought.” 

“No.” Sansa shook her head. Their eyes met, and Sansa knew the two of them understood each other in a way that would never disappear. He was part of her family now, too. “They’re difficult through and through. We’re simply stubborn in return.” 

He scoffed. “A bull loving a wolf, and a wolf loving a dragon. It sounds like a pitiful joke.” 

“No,” she repeated. Her smile was sort of mischievous, sort of powerful. Sansa felt happy, truly and fully. “It sounds like a story. A good one, if I do say so myself.” 

[softnaruto]

Can i request any scenario\drabble(no matter genre,time,18+ or not) with KibaXYuki clan fem SO who is Kiri ANBU. Like they met during mission & tried to kill him by mistake. And under the mask she acts cool and badass, but without depressed & shy bean who thinks that his feelings are either cruel joke or not good as they are from different villages.

Death’s A Charm

author: hi hi! sorry for the late response! I hope you like it! 

pairing: Kiba x fem! Kiri clan! reader

words: 1949

genre: fluff, action

warnings: blood, wounds, death, and... fighting

this was too long so I cut it! pls keep reading after the cut! 

Kiba’s eyes slowly opened as he looked around, the shade of the forest limiting the sun’s harsh rays. He began to smell something… someone, to be specific. He immediately stood up straight, looking around for Akamaru. His last memory was foggy, and his surroundings did not look like Konoha’s forests either. He looked off to the side, noticing a small creek before cupping a bit of water with his hands.

He needed to find Akamaru and get the hell out of there.

“You’re really going to drink that water?” A strange voice asked, causing him to tense up as he lifted his hands up to his mouth. He let go of the water, looking around him, but finding no one. “God, you really are a dog.”

Kiba’s eyebrows scrunched together as he stood up straight. He took a kunai out of his back pocket, ready to defend himself from any attack. As he stood looking out into the forest, glances of the past came to him.

He was… with Hinata and Shino, on their way to Sato, the Village Hidden In the Mist in order to track and deliver stolen information that had reached the Land of Fire. They had to part ways halfway through as Hinata and Shino finished tracking the culprits and Kiba was left to deliver a scroll that had been found. However, after coming across a certain area in the Land of Water, Kiba had been surrounded by the culprits’ puppets and was outnumbered.

All he could remember was Akamaru standing bravely by his side; nothing else. He could easily be outnumbered now, but his mind kept going back to Akamaru… and the stranger mentioning a dog clearly meant that they had him.

“Where’s Akamaru?!” Kiba yelled, his eyes trying to trace the different scent in the air. All of a sudden, he heard a bark coming in from his left, and a big shape running towards him. He instantly recognized the shape, and a small smile appeared on his face, before remembering that there was an enemy out there.

A shape appeared by Akamaru, hidden in the fog that had accumulated through the forest. Kiba scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to see if it was an illusion or not.

“He missed you,” The figure said, standing in front of Kiba. Akamaru ran towards Kiba, barking and happily wagging his tail as he nuzzled into Kiba’s hand. Kiba ruffled Akamaru’s fur, before looking up at the figure questionably.

“This is definitely Akamaru and he’s not hurt either. Who are you?” His eyes trailed down the mask, and he noticed that the figure was a woman. She carried a sword with her, but nothing else. He recognized the mask as an ANBU from the Hidden Mist and raised his eyebrows. “You’re an ANBU. Why are you here?”

“I saved you, idiot. A thanks would be great.” The figure didn’t say anything after that, but gave him a gesture for him to follow.

“I didn’t need you to save me, whatever that means.” Kiba muttered, rolling his eyes as he cautiously followed the figure down the forest. The ANBU led him to a small clearing, before sitting down on a fallen log.

“You were outnumbered, of course you did.” She said, setting her sword down. “My orders are to help you deliver that scroll. Usually I would just take it, but truthfully… the Hidden Mist wants to show our trust in the Hidden Leaf, whatever that means. We’re waiting until you’re ready to go, since you’re just too weak. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you’re from the Leaf. You’re all weak cowards.”

“A coward? Are you talking about me?” Kiba asked, becoming quite annoyed by the stranger. He huffed, sitting down across from her. He noticed the wounds on his body, from the raggedy shirt down to his bruised legs. As he took notice of the wounds, the pain came suddenly. He groaned, softly leaning on himself as he tried to hold it in. “Where did all of these come from? I don’t remember them.” 

“You should wear a dog collar. It would’ve let me know that you were not the enemy. I accidentally—” She was cut off by Kiba, who huffed in anger.

“Now I remember! You tried to kill me.” 

“Yeah,” The figure said, shrugging, “But I barely even sliced you and you passed out. You would’ve died if it hadn’t been for me. Anyway, I gave you some food pills before you passed out, so you should be good to go soon.” The figure answered, before standing up quickly. “There’s someone here.”

Kiba had already noticed it. The change in scent—someone had arrived to their location. He tried to stand, but his wounds began to create a throbbing sensation throughout his body. The newcomer had begun to make its offense as a series of kunai began to attack the land surrounding them, causing Akamaru to growl in a certain direction. The ANBU began to defend Kiba and herself with her a kunai, deflecting and hitting any coming in their way.

All of a sudden, a second offender came up from behind her, causing Kiba’s eyes to widen.

“Behind you!” He yelled, standing up to his feet, almost losing balance. He drew his kunai out, deflecting the incoming weapons.

The ANBU shinobi turned around, beating the other’s sword away. However, her actions were a bit too late as the attacker’s sword sliced through her mask, letting it fall onto the floor. The ANBU quickly sliced her sword through the man’s skin, letting the man fall to his death.

She then ran to the other attacker’s location, and Kiba wasn’t able to see much of anything, but a loud scream echoed from across the forest. A shinobi walked form a shadow across from him, and Kiba drew his kunai closer to himself.

“Don’t stress out, it’s me.” She said, wiping a few of blood drops off of her face. Kiba’s eyes stared in wonder as he took in the shinobi before him.

She was… the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. Sure, he had his fair number of crushes throughout his life… but this felt different.

She walked over to him, adjusting a bandage around Kiba’s torso that he had failed to notice was there. She straightened up, looking at him before looking away quickly, her strong presence suddenly becoming docile.

“Your… mask,” Kiba mentioned, noticing the distance between them. A small blush appeared on her face, and she quickly stepped back, walking over to her mask before picking it up.

“It’s completely ruined,” She mentioned, her voice much smaller than it was before. “Damn it. Anyway, we need to get out of here.”

It was her sense of self; her safety blanket. She was a completely different person with her mask. Her mask was a persona of herself, a cruel shinobi that was trained to kill without a second thought.

But without it? She was… just her; a kind, soft, and shy individual.

The pair walked down the forest, trying to get away from the battle scene. They were now walking towards the Hidden Mist; there were no other options left. The walk was silent, and Kiba found his eyes lingering to her figure more than usual.

“You know,” Kiba said, looking over her as he tried to walk beside her. His hands lingered on his wound, trying to keep it from bleeding too much. “At first you were kind of an asshole, but then your mask came off and… you’re like beautiful.”

The shinobi next to him froze and her eyes looked over at Kiba, showing this disbelief.

“I—” She started, but no words dared to come out of her mouth. She stared at Kiba for a few seconds before shaking her head and walking forward.

Kiba raised his eyebrows as he saw her walk forward, using the opportunity to look at her figure.

She really was… beautiful. And, well, nice. She had fixed and bandaged his wounds when he had passed out… she could’ve simply just left him there and reported his dead body with a scroll in her hand, but she didn’t. She stayed until he woke up.

The curiosity got the best of him, and he walked faster to catch up to her.

“What’s your name, anyway?” He asked, giving her a charming grin of his.

“I’m… I’m not supposed to answer that.” She replied, her voice wavering a bit. She gripped her sword closer to her, as if to create a barrier between her and the rest of the world. She wanted to leave at that moment—just disappear and go back home. She wanted to get a new mask and report to another mission where no one knew what she looked like.

The couple of hours quickly melted away as the couple continued walking, taking breaks in between walks due to Kiba’s wounds. In their breaks, the mysterious shinobi would fix Kiba’s wounds, dressing them in new bandages. Kiba would take the small opportunities and question her about her life—what is her talent? Was she a leader in the ANBU? How old was she? What was her name?

Every time he asked her something, she would freeze and not say anything. Her cheeks would flare up and she would quickly stand up before walking faster than before. At some point, Kiba found her to be quite cute. Her mannerisms, although done in confidence, were different from her past self, which Kiba found quite interesting.

-

They soon reached the Village Hidden in the Mist, and as soon as Kiba gave the scroll, he was free to go back home. As he had his wounds checked out in the local hospital, his mind went back to the shinobi that had helped him get to the village. He wondered if he would ever see her again—the cool demeanor under her mask, and the shy, soft side of her.

He walked throughout town one last time after being released from the hospital, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of the beautiful shinobi that wouldn’t leave his mind. However, he was quickly left with no trace of her whatsoever and decided that maybe she just wasn’t supposed to be in his life. As he walked towards the entrance to the village, he saw a figure standing in the middle of it. She wore a mask and was leaning against one of the doors to the entrance. Kiba looked at her as he began to get closer and recognized her clothing.

“It’s you.” He said, a small smile appearing on his face. “Missed me?”

“Please,” The figure said, almost sounding a little flustered. She quickly straightened up. “I was told to lead you out of the town. This is it. Now, leave.”

Kiba pursed his lips in surprise—what had happened to the soft girl he was talking to earlier? The shinobi that couldn’t even look at him without blushing?

“Actually,” Kiba said, stepping towards her, “I’d like to ask for your name. Yeah, yeah, the ANBU aren’t allowed to say anything about themselves, but I already know what you look like. I was thinking that if I were to ever find myself in the Village Hidden in The Mist… I would like to take you out.”

“You—what?” Her voice wavered and was completely taken aback by his confession. She crossed her arms, silently wishing she wasn’t there. She wished to run away and never talk to him again… but his presence was nice to have. “I—”

“C’mon, you can whisper your name to me. I promise to take you out next time.” Kiba whispered, leaning in towards her.

She leaned back, surprised by Kiba’s sudden movements.

“Uh—well, it’s… Y/N Kiri” She stuttered, trying to hide the surprise in her voice.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Kiba Inuzuka.” Kiba smirked, leaning back and looking at her with a smile. “I’ll take you out next time, Y/N, for sure. Without your mask though, you’re cute without it.”

That Inuzuka charm.

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Chapter Five - Origins

The Echo in the Mirror

Words: 2,503

Ship: None

Warnings: Alcohol mention, mentions of underage drinking (no-one gets drunk), Body mutation, panic attack, sex jokes

Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @jynxlovesluck @madly-handsome​ @strickenwithclairvoyance​ @limitededitionsanderssidesblog​ @ab-artist​ @sometimeswritingsometimesdying  @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2​ @because-were-fam-ily @gattonero17​ @analogical-mess​ @joaniejustwokeup​ @whycantihavemorethan32characters​

---

If there was one thing the Dormir cousins were famous for, it was parties. So, it was no surprise that Remy’s Halloween party was one of the biggest events of the year. It was also very exclusive, you had to know the right people to get in. Any regular student would have dropped everything for a chance to go. Anyone except for Logan Hamilton, who had barely spoken to Roman or Virgil in days.

It was Wednesday, October 30th and the lunch bell had just rung. “You can’t keep ignoring me forever, Logan,” Virgil said. Logan only walked away, giving him a silent message. “That’s a very rude hand gesture!” he yelled.

Virgil sighed, falling against the wall as Logan walked away. He felt a hand on his shoulder and didn’t even bother to look up. He already knew there was a fifty percent chance of it being Roman (and the other fifty percent chance of it being Remy). “He’ll be back eventually,” Roman said. “We just need to talk to him.”

“I’m trying but he’s impossible to talk to when he’s angry. We’ve really fucked up.”

“Maybe we can get Patton to talk to him.”

Virgil laughed. “You think he’d listen to Patton?”

“What’s wrong with Patton?”

“Nothing,” Virgil said. “To us.”

“To us?”

“You’re pretty oblivious, Princey.”

“Oblivious,” Roman repeated. “Are you saying Logan has a crush on me and therefore won’t talk to Patton?”

Virgil pulled himself from the wall and took Roman’s hand as they walked down the hall. “First of all, you wish Logan had a crush on you. I think you’re just looking for an excuse to change your name to Roman Hamilton.”

“Imagine marrying Logan Hamilton. I could never,” Roman teased.

“Shut up you’re getting off-topic.”

“Weirdly defensive about marrying Logan,” he teased, bumping into Virgil’s side with a laugh. He felt pain in his hand as Virgil’s fists grew tighter. “Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay, okay I take it back.”

“Even if I did have a crush on Logan, he’s straight,” Virgil said. “And you’re getting off-topic. He’s not listening to me, he’s obviously not going to listen to you, and Patton isn’t even in the same room as the table.”

“And, again, what’s wrong with Patton and why am I oblivious?”

“Logan doesn’t exactly, uh, like Patton. And if you haven’t been able to notice that, you certainly have your head in the clouds.”

“I’m king of the clouds.”

“You’re not even a prince, Duke.”

“Touché.”

“I’ll send him a text,” Virgil said. “I just... hope he’ll respond.”

“You guys have been best friends since- what? Seventh grade?” Roman squeezed Virgil’s hand and leaned into him. “He’ll come around.”

Virgil leaned into the touch, both their heads pressed together as they turned a corner towards the school cafeteria. “This is worse than any fight we’ve ever had. I don’t know what to do.”

Roman stopped dead in his tracks. He took Virgil by the shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. (He still had to grow used to the fact that Virgil was now taller than him. The growth spurt he had hit during his sophomore year was still a surprise.) “Everything is going to be fine,” he said. “You know how I know it will be? Because if Hamilton thinks he can hurt my second best friend then I’m going to kick his ass with my new weird crazy powers.”

“And what powers are those?”

“I’ll figure it out, okay? Now, c’mon, either Logan is going to come back and we can sort out this spirit situation. Or- Or- we forget about Logan for one night and I show you and Patton how to have a good time.”

“But what about-“

“Shhh.” Roman placed a finger over Virgil’s lips. “It’s a Remy Dormir party. We’re going to get drunk off our asses and have a great time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

It was Thursday, October 31, nearly 7:00 O’clock at night. When Roman had arrived Remy was busy locking the last of the bedroom and office doors, any room that would give him a death sentence if it were trashed.

“I brought drinks,” he announced, holding two plastic bags in his hands. Patton and Emile exchanged a glance, staring at Roman with quirked eyebrows. “Relax.” He pulled a bottle out from the bag. “It’s Sprite.”

“Ro, I’m glad you’re here,” Remy said, sliding three stacks of paper plates across the counter. “I need you guys to open these.”

“Great to see you too, Rem.”

“The pleasure is all yours I’m sure. Hey, hand me that pumpkin, will ya? Thanks, babe.”

“I’m pretty sure you call me that more than your own boyfriend.”

“Everyone else is ‘Babe’,” Remy explained, “Emile is ‘baby.’”

Emile blushed, his face redder than his Steven Universe shirt. “Reeeeemmmyyyy.”

“Save that for the bedroom, baby,” Remy teased.

Roman shoved a finger in his mouth and gagged. “You two are disgusting.”

Remy raised an eyebrow and threw a tape dispenser at Roman’s head. “Oh, please, like you haven’t jerked it to m-“

“OKAY! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he yelled, face bright red. He turned towards Patton and Emile. “Pro tip: Never fucking tell Remy about a crush.”

“I’d consider it a close matter,” he said, failing to hide a laugh. “Aww, c’mon it was years ago.”

“And yet, you’re still an asshole about it.”

“You act like you still have feelings.”

“You act like I won’t shake you off this damn ladder.”

“Ouch. Someone’s got a sore spot.”

“Ladder,” Roman warned. There was a knock on the door but it swung open before anyone could answer it.

“Sup, bitches! I brought beers!” Narcissa yelled. She wore all black with a leather jacket that could rival Remy’s own and a floppy witch hat that still had a price tag on the side. Her long black hair and choppy bangs framed her face nicely. She had a diamond stud in her nose and wore glittery purple eyeshadow.

“Eww.”

“Oh. Duke is here.”

“Ah. Draco can go fuck herself.”

The two stood silent, staring each other down for a total of five seconds before laughing and pulling each other into a hug. “Virgil pulled into the driveway a few seconds after me. He’ll be here in a few-“

“Sup, motherfuckers!”

“He’s here,” she deadpanned.

“Virgil! Virgil, look!” Roman said, smiling like a puppy. “It’s Narcissa.”

“Aww, it’s my chorus baby,” she cooed, ruffling Virgil’s hair. “We miss you.”

“Stop, stop, I spent an hour making this look perfect,” Virgil said. He was dressed head to toe in regal vampire gear with fake blood on his lips and chin.

“Lookin’ sharp, bloodsucker,” Roman complimented.

“Blood isn’t the only thing I suck,” he said with a wink. “Oh! Patton, you made it!”

“I did!” Patton said. “Any luck with, uh, you know who?”

Remy gasped as he jumped off the ladder. “Did someone take my title of You Know Who?!”

“That’s offensive to Lord Voldemort,” Narcissa said.

“Suck my dick, babe.”

“Only if you suck mine.”

“I haven’t had any luck,” Virgil said, taking a seat next to Patton. “I know he needs space, but I don’t know what to do. Our time is running out.”

“Emile,” Patton blurted out. “We could, uh, use Emile if Logan won’t agree.”

Virgil knitted his eyebrows together, glancing up and down at Patton as he wiggled in his seat. “You don’t sound too sure of yourself. Besides, replacing Logan would only make things worse.”

“You said yourself that we’re running out of time.”

“Patton, I-“

A voice escaped Patton’s throat, low and gravely, nothing like the young boy’s own. It said, “We only have tonight, Fear. What are you so afraid of?” Patton slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Your face is turning green.”

“Your arms are turning violet.”

“Princey,” Virgil called, “can we see you real quick?”

“Yeah, what’s- Oh fuck.”

“Oh fuck indeed,” Virgil growled. He grabbed Patton and Roman’s hands and pulled them into the bathroom.

It’s Thursday, October 31, nearly 7:45 at night when Logan finds himself pacing in his bedroom, his eyes going up and down trying to reread a text Virgil had sent hours ago. He couldn’t think of a response.

Logan, we need to talk.

I’m so sorry about what happened at Patton’s house and I’m worried that I'll never get to apologize enough. I know you and Roman don’t always get along, but he really does care about you. The two of us have been fighting trying to figure out what’s best for you but that’s a choice only you can make. We’ll be at Remy’s house tonight and I really hope I can see you there and properly make amends.

We found a way to summon the fourth spirit. His name is Knowledge and I can think of no one more deserving than you of that power. But above all, I want my best friend back. So, please, talk to me.

Logan practically had the message memorized by now. He paced back and forth watching time move forward as his battery drained. Should he stay angry at Virgil and Roman for trying to make this choice without him? Should he forgive them? Should he accept this power? “Feelings,” he mumbled, “the bane of my existence.

Then his phone rang. His texts disappeared as a picture of Roman in a prince costume from behind the scenes of his last play took their place. Why was Roman calling? His finger hovered over the answer button before he finally gave in and clicked it.

“You have three seconds to explai-“

“Logan! Logan, oh thank fairy godmother you answered! We need your help!”

“Is this some sort of trap?”

“No! No, seriously, Virgil and Patton are here with me! We- We don’t know what’s going on! Patton has like- like scales or something! And Virgil looks like he barely escaped the Wonka factory!”

“Roman, your eyes,” he could hear Patton saying. “They’re red.”

“Logan! Just, please, we’re at Remy’s house! Get here as fast as you ca-” The line went dead. The clocks around him slowed, time never fully halting. The room began to dim. 

“Roman?” Logan asked, frantically trying to call him back. Every attempt failed. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was having a panic attack but he didn’t even have the time to pull himself out of it. He ran for his bedroom door, trying to pull it open but the handle wouldn’t budge.

“You are not needed there. Not yet,” a voice spoke.

Logan’s eyes welled with tears as he frantically pulled at the door handle. “LET ME OUT!” he screamed. “ROMAN NEEDS ME! LET ME OUT OF HERE!”

“No one can hear you now, Logan Zander Hamilton,” the voice said. “We have temporarily pulled apart from the known universe. There is no one outside that door. It’s only you and me. I suggest we have a little chat.”

Logan pressed his back against the door and fell to the ground, hugging his knees. “My- My friends,” he choked out. “They need me. They need me!”

“We need you, Logan Zander Hamilton,” he said, almost perfectly mimicking Virgil’s voice. Almost, yet too robotic. He wasn’t as caring and compassionate as Virgil always was. He appeared as a reflection in the mirror, a perfect doppelgänger to Logan but with something cold and robotic in his eyes. He looked like a man but he could not pass as human. “My friends and yours are now one.” He pressed his hand against the glass and walked through as easily as someone would walk through a wall of gelatin. And with that, the mirror seemed to bounce back as easily as gelatin without so much as a crack to prove that he had broken through. As he stepped closer, Logan could see how inhuman his eyes were. He was the cosmos hidden inside of a human shell. “Join me- Join us- and learn the secrets of your existence.”

“If- If I do this,” he asked, trying to wipe away the last of his tears, “will I be able to save my friends?”

“With the power of knowledge, you can save humankind.”

“They aren’t human, are they? Not anymore, at least. They’ve been... infected.”

“How observant of you.”

“I don’t need to save humankind,” he said, “I just need to save them.”

“Any panic or pain they are experiencing now is only at the cost of summoning me,” Knowledge said. “Whether aware or not, they have brought me to you. Neither I nor them will be at rest until I have a vessel.”

“For Virgil,” Logan said, “and for Roman. And Patton.” He stuck out his hand towards Knowledge. “I’ll do it.”

Knowledge took Logan’s hand. His human shell melted away and Logan found himself being blinded by the pure light in front of him. He expected to choke and cry in pain as Virgil and Roman had done. Instead, he found warmth traveling from his fingertips through his veins and arteries. He found warmth traveling through him in all directions. His head felt light and his chest felt full of the purest air.

Logan woke up from his bed. He slid on his glasses and looked at his reflection in his phone’s camera. His eyes held pools of stars. He was the cosmos inside of a human shell. He felt enlightened.

Logan put his phone in the pocket of his jeans, grabbed a jacket, and ran out of his house as fast as his legs would take him. When he got to Remy’s house his heart was pounding in the best possible way. He walked in, dodging students as he made his way towards the bathroom.

“LOGAN!” Virgil yelled, smiling brightly as the lights around them flickered with electricity.

“Maybe don’t destroy the lights here,” Logan teased. “You guys summoned a spirit. How the hell did you do that?”

“I, uh, think that was my fault,” Patton said meekly.

“It was Morality who started it,” Virgil corrected. “Not Patton.”

“Is there any difference?” Patton asked.

“Yes,” Logan said. “And no matter what, we must remember that there are differences between us and the spirits using us for personal gain.”

“Woah,” Roman whispered, leaning close to Logan. “Your eyes look wicked right now.”

“You accepted his powers,” Virgil said in disbelief. He smiled brightly, pulling Logan into a hug. “We’re superheroes!”

“We haven’t done anything heroic,” Logan said. “Being superhuman does not automatically make one a hero.”

“Be gay, fight crime,” Roman announced. Virgil shot him a look. “That’s going to be my motto. I’m copyrighting it as we speak.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Logan said with a laugh.

“That’s Logan’s way of saying ‘I love you.’”

“No, it’s just my way of calling you a nerd.”

There was an annoyed knock at the door. “Can you guys have your orgy somewhere else? You’ve been in there for nearly an hour,” Remy yelled.

The three of them laughed, their skin and faces slowly returning to normal. “Well, my friends,” Roman said. “Welcome to the rest of our lives.”

[hunter-the-sad-skeleton]

Chapter Two Is DONE! AS AM I WITH THIS THING. IF Y’ALL DON’T LIKE THE ABRUBT ENDING, I DON’T CARE. I DON’T NORMALLY SAY THIS, BUT THIS MAY BE THE FIRST CHAPTER THAT I HATE. IT FEELS TOO DRAWN OUT AND IT GOT ME IRRITATED SO I MAY HATE THIS CHAPTER. NOBODY’S FAULT, JUST MINE. Tag List: @bccfggffbgv, @new-account-sam-christy-456(Feel free to ask to be removed or added.)

(Flashback.)

Hunter packed her backpack as she was asked in her last letter from Stanley, despite confusion as to why she was asked to do so. Hunter paused as she heard something hit the window. Hunter walked over to the windowsill, opening the window and looking around for the source of the sound and eventually spotting Stanley. “Stan…!” Hunter called quietly.

“Heya Tiny…! Ya did what I asked…?” Stan asked quietly. Hunter held her backpack up so he could see. “Great work, Tiny…!” Stan grinned. Hunter tossed the bag down, Stan catching the bag while Hunter climbed down. Hunter rolled down, landing on her feet in a clearing near Stan.

“So, what’d ya wanna meet up for…?!” Hunter asked, getting up.

“Well, I got kicked out yesterday, so I gotta find a place to live, and I wanted to see if ya wanted to join me…!” Stan grinned.

“But why…?!” Hunter asked.

“Hunter, you and I have known each other for a while now and I’ve gotten a glimpse at your uh...Home life.” Stan started. Hunter winced.

“I….I’m fine here, St-Stan….! I just...Keep getting on their bad side…!” Hunter excused. Stan was aghast at what Hunter was saying.

“What…?! How can you SAY that…?!?” Stan hissed. Hunter broke eye contact. “Hunter, they are NOT nice people…! You deserve better…!” Stan scolded.

“I...I-I-I-I-I….” Hunter stammered.

“How many times have they hurt ya and locked ya in the basement…?!” Stan asked, voice turning dead serious. Hunter fell silent. “Well…?! I’m listening…!” Stan chuffed.

“....Too many times to count…” Hunter whined.

“Exactly. That’s a problem.” Stan frowned.

“Where’ll we go…?!” Hunter asked, worried.

“Across the country…? I dunno yet…! We’ll just wing it…!” Stan smiled. Hunter felt a feeling of worry weigh her shoulders down. “Don’t worry…! We can get as far away from here as possible…!” Stan grinned.

“What about Fordy…? Is he gonna be coming…?” Hunter asked.

Stan froze, thinking for a moment. Does he say the truth about how Ford is gonna be going to college and leaving them behind, or tell a small lie that he’d be with them at some point in time? “St-Stan…?” Hunter peeped.

“Yeah, um, he’ll uh...Meet us there...We have a meetup place...It’s uh...Quite far away…” Stan lied for the safety of Hunter getting away from her family.

“O-Oh…! Okay…!” Hunter smiled, trusting Stan fully.

Stan winced, faking a smile that Hunter didn’t see as such. She saw it as his typical “Everything’s okay!” smile. “Yeah, we’ll...We’ll meet him at the meetup…!” Stan grinned weakly.

“Oki doki..!” Hunter beamed. “Where is it?” Hunter asked.

Stan thought on his feet, making up a name on the spot. “Uh...Gravity Falls…!” Stan said.

“Wait...If we’re going, what about Mo-” Hunter started.

“HUNTER MARY INKWELL, WHERE DID YOU GO, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!?” Chip yelled. Hunter yelped, shaking violently.

“Hunter, get in the car.” Stan said.

“What..?” Hunter peeped.

“GET IN THE CAR, I AM NOT GETTING ARRESTED ON BEHALF OF YOU RUNNING AWAY!” Stan snapped, shoving Hunter in the backseat of the car with her backpack. Hunter yelped, sitting upright and hurrying to put her seatbelt on. Stan hurried to turn the car on, failing a few times. “Come on…” Stan grumbled.

Chip ran out, looking around for Hunter and eventually spotting Stan. “HEY!!!” Chip snapped.

Stan slammed his foot on the gas, speeding off. “Hold on, Tiny!!” Stan called.

Hunter sat in the back, shaking violently as they drove off, panic attack in full force. “A-A-A-Are we gonna be okay…?!?” Hunter wheezed.

“Hold on, little buddy…!!” Stan called back.

“U-Um, St-St-St-St-St-Stan….?! I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I think we need to speed it up a bit…!” Hunter whined.

Stan turned around, seeing Hunter’s parents getting into their car, panic setting in.

“OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT!!!!!!” Stan panicked.

Stan drove through back alleys, hurrying to get onto the freeway and lose Hunter’s parents.

(Present day.)

Hunter sat down on the couch, talking with Stan, falling silent as Glitch walked in.

“Oh. ya have someone over.” Glitch said tiredly.

“Yeah, he’s an old friend!” Hunter explained.

“Why’s there a living corpse on our couch?” Glitch asked, Stan gasping in offense.

“This is Stan, he’s……...my brother, so please treat him with respect.” Hunter said.

“Whoa, who’s this?” Stan asked.

“Oh, this is Glitch, I adopted him. He’s my adopted son.” Hunter explained.

“You? Adopt a kid? Hah! Funny joke!” Stan laughed.

“Not a joke, bud.” Hunter said.

“Oh.” Stan said.

“Yeah, he’s a handful.” Hunter shrugged.

“Why doncha come over for dinner tomorrow? Meet up at the shack, catch up, ya know! Like friends do!” Stan suggested.

“Really?” Hunter asked, unsure.

“Yeah! You can come by about...5:00 and just chill out! You can bring Glitch if you want to!” Stan said.

“Well, okay! Sounds good!” Hunter grinned.

“Great! See ya then!” Stan said.

Hunter saw Stan out, closing and locking the door behind him.

“You’re heading out to the shack later tomorrow?” Glitch asked.

“Yeah, we haven’t seen each other in years, Glitch. We have stuff to catch up on!” Hunter said.

“Really?” Glitch asked, raising an eyebrow. “Y-Yeah…” Hunter stuttered.

“All of the stuff?” Glitch asked.

“W-Well, except for what I’ve been doing the past few days, we have a bunch to catch up on…!” Hunter stammered. “H-He doesn’t need to know that…! He doesn’t need more trouble in his life….!” Hunter stammered, breaking eye contact.

“He’ll find out someday.” Glitch said.

“When he does, I’m sure he’ll understand.” Hunter said shortly.

(Flashback.)

Hunter walked home from the store with a fresh batch of Ink, stopping when she heard sobbing, trying to ignore it, but the closer she got to home, the louder it got. The sobbing eventually starting to drive her crazy, she started looking around for the source, finding a young child in a cardboard box in the middle of the rain near Hunter’s apartment. Feeling bad, Hunter took him in, thinking it’d just be until the morning. Hunter put him in some of her spare clothes, looking at the kid, then at her phone which had 911 on speed dial, looking between the two before turning her phone off with a heavy sigh.

Hunter got down to his height. “Hey kid. You’re gonna stay here a while.” Hunter said.

“O-Okay…!” He nodded.

(Timeskip)

Hunter walked up to the Mystery Shack, taking a deep breath before walking up and knocking on the door. “No need to be nervous…It’s just Stan…” Hunter sighed.

“You’re not any good at this, are you?” Glitch sighed.

“Shut up, Glitch!” Hunter snapped, upset at being called out. Hunter fell silent as the door opened.

“Oh my gosh! It’s you!” Mabel beamed.

“Oh! It’s….Dabel!....Right?” Hunter asked.

Mabel laughed. “It’s Mabel, silly!” Mabel corrected.

“Right, sorry…” Hunter apologized sadly.

Before they walked in the door, Glitch grabbed Hunter by the shoulder. “Hold up, take a deep breath, your feelings are valid, but you need to breathe. Remember to breathe, and don’t panic.” Glitch said. Hunter nodded.

“Oh! Hunter! Ya made it!” Stan grinned.

“Yep…! Sup bro…?” Hunter asked nervously.

“Why so nervous, Tiny?” Stan asked, worried.

“Oh, no reason, Stan, just...Typical nerves, ya know…?” Hunter squeaked.

Stan noticed Glitch, thinking something over for a second. “Hey, kid; go over to the gift shop, pick something out!” Stan offered.

“Really?” Glitch asked.

“Yep! Go ahead, whatever ya like! A friend of Hunter’s is a friend of mine!” Stan smiled.

Glitch shrugged, heading off to go look around.

“So, Hunter, how’d you come across him? Ya have a one-night stand?” Stan asked quietly.

“What?!? No!! I ADOPTED him!!” Hunter retched.

“Ooooh! Oopsie!” Stan winced.

“Yeah, it’s okay though.” Hunter smiled weakly.

“Well, how’d ya find him? Adoption center?” Stan asked seriously.

“Rainy day. He was in a cardboard box.” Hunter frowned.

“Oof...That’s rough…” Stan chuffed.

“Surprise High Five Time!!” Mabel cheered. Hunter yelped in surprise at the sudden hand being raised in her direction, flinching away and dripping slightly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mabel, sweety, we don’t do that with Hunter here, okay?” Stan said gently.

“Why? Something wrong?” Mabel asked, confused.

“Well, Mabel, sweety, Hunter uh….Grew up around some...Not-so-good people and uh...She doesn’t like surprise contact, ya know..?” Stan asked.

“Why?” Mabel asked, still confused.

“Well...You know how some people are nice and others are not so nice..?” Stan asked.

“What?!?” Mabel gasped.

“I know, I know, but some people are just plain bad to be around, and Hunter was in that situation and I helped get her out.” Stan explained.

“Awww! How heroic!” Mabel cooed.

“With her parents on my tail, too.” Stan said.

“Ohmigosh!” Mabel gasped.

“I remember how angry her mom sounded. She sounded ready to commit WAR CRIMES.” Stan grimaced.

“Oh no…” Mabel frowned.

“Yeah…’oh no’ is right…” Stan grimaced.

“Did everything turn out okay?” Mabel asked.

“Sorta….” Stan winced.

“Look, Mabel, just...Please...No surprise High Fives for Hunter, alright?” Stan asked gently.

“Hmm...Okay!” Mabel nodded.

“Thanks, sweety…” Stan smiled softly.

“Sorry I scared you, Hunter, I had no idea…!” Mabel apologized.

“I-I-It’s fine…! You didn’t know..!” Hunter said, shaking it off.

“Okay!” Mabel smiled, skipping off to go find Glitch.

(With Glitch)

Glitch looked around, finding a Game Over beanie, putting it on. “This is mine now.” Glitch said.

“He seems really tall….Maybe I can just…” Mabel said, hugging Glitch’s leg.

“Oh! Hello…!” Glitch said awkwardly.

“Hello! I’m Mabel! I seem to have lost my name, can I have yours?” Mabel winked.

“You...Just said it.” Glitch chuckled. “If ya wanna do pickup lines correctly, ya gotta say this: Are your parents Bakers because they sure made you a cutie pie~" Glitch smiled.

Mabel’s eyes sparkled like diamonds in amazement. “Of course….I’ve been blind this whole time…!” Mabel gasped.

“Heh…” Glitch chuckled.

Dipper walked in, freezing at hearing the pickup lines.

“Dip-Dip! Glitch is teaching me pickup lines!” Mabel grinned.

“Oh really?” Dipper asked.

“Yeah, do you have 11 protons? Because you are sodium fine~!” Glitch winked. Dipper’s face went tomato red as he rushed off to the room with Stan and Hunter in it.

(With Stan and Hunter)

“Whoa, what’s with your face bein’ so red, sport?” Stan asked.

“Everything fine’s!” Dipper blurted. Hunter thought for a moment.

“Ah. Glitch.” Hunter said.

“Whozamawhanow?” Stan asked, confused.

“Glitch has a tendency to flirt with people.” Hunter explained.

“Oh.” Stan said.

“It like’s he wanted to mess with me..!” Dipper spluttered.

“He tends to do that.” Hunter shrugged.

“Oh, so he’s a casanova?” Stan asked.

“Basically, yeah.” Hunter said.

“Oh, okay!” Stan nodded.

“Yeah…” Hunter said, trailing off and dripping slightly.

“You alright man? You seem to be dripping a bit.” Dipper asked skeptically.

“Wait what?!” Hunter yelped, noticing she was dripping.

Glitch leaned in, noticing Hunter having a freakout. “Okay, we’re heading out for a walk.” Glitch said, putting Hunter’s hood up and taking her outside. Hunter went with Glitch, trying not to drip much.

“Thanks Glitch…” Hunter thanked, sighing in relief.

“No problem, are you okay?” Glitch asked.

“Yeah, I-I-I’m fine…!” Hunter said.

“Ya sure? You were REALLY freaking out in there.” Glitch said.

“I…...Just typical parental flashbacks, Glitch...Nothing out of the ordinary..” Hunter frowned.

“Hunter, it’s okay to move on.” Glitch said.

“I know, but…” Hunter trailed off.

“You’re too forgiving for your own good…” Glitch grimaced.

“I know, but Dad was never that bad…! It was mostly Mom…!” Hunter defended.

“Hunter, being indifferent is not any better!” Glitch objected.

“I-It’s fine, Glitch, I-I-I-I forgive him..!” Hunter said.

“Hunter…” Glitch winced.

“I’m fine now…!” Hunter said.

“Ya sure?” Glitch asked.

“.......Yeah.” Hunter nodded.

Hunter walked inside again, sitting back down where she was earlier. “Everything okay, Tiny?” Stan asked.

“Yeah, I-I-I-I-I’m fine, Stan, sorry I worried ya…” Hunter apologized.

“Ya sure, Tiny….?” Stan asked.

Hunter nodded, still dripping a little bit, worrying Stan slightly.

“Well...If ya say so…” Stan sighed.

Hunter sighed in relief, sinking down in her chair. Hunter jumped as she was pulled out of her thoughts by a dripping sound.

“Wait...Black dripping liquid….” Dipper hummed.

Hunter gulped nervously. “I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I gotta go…!” Hunter squeaked, hurrying up and running out the front door, leaving Inky footsteps behind her. Dipper crouched down, touching a footprint and realizing what it was.

“Grunkle Stan…?! What did the news report say was stolen…?!” Dipper asked, panic filling his voice.

“Uh...Ink and machine parts, why?” Stan asked, scratching his head in confusion.

“.......We’ve found our culprit.” Dipper said, getting up.

“What?!?” Stan gasped.

“Hunter?!” Mabel gasped.

“It all adds up; she shows up when the thefts start up, she gets nervous around people, her footsteps are Inky, the facts all add up!!” Dipper explained.

“No, nuh uh, I REFUSE to believe it’s true!!!” Stan objected.

“It only makes sense, Grunkle Stan!!” Dipper said.

“No, I KNOW Hunter, she would NEVER steal!!” Stan objected.

“How many years has it been since you last saw each other, Grunkle Stan?!” Dipper asked.

“That doesn’t matter!! I GREW UP with her, Dipper!! I THINK I know her!!” Stan defended.

“Stan, it’s been YEARS!!” Dipper objected.

“So what?!” Stan asked.

“LEMME GO, GLITCH!!!” Hunter yelped from outside, getting everyone to run outside to find Glitch holding Hunter back.

“Hunter, calm down.” Glitch sighed.

“NO, LEMME GO!!!!” Hunter whined, struggling to escape his grip.

“Hunter, please just calm down…!!” Glitch snapped.

“NO, I’M HAVING A MELTDOWN AND I NEED TO GET HOME, GLITCH!!!” Hunter begged.

“Why, is it because you’re DRIPPING INK EVERYWHERE AND YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT DRAWING SUSPICION TO YOUR CONDITION?!” Glitch snapped.

“What?!?” Everyone gasped in unison.

“Guys, you-you CAN’T believe him…!!!! He-He’s a-He’s a demon-he’s lying!!!!” Hunter squeaked.

“MOM!!!!” Glitch snapped.

“YOU LET SOMETHING OUT, I LET SOMETHING OUT!!” Hunter snapped.

“WHAT I SAID DIDN’T HAVE ANYTHING BAD OTHER THAN A MENTION OF YOUR MEDICAL CONDITION!!” Glitch piped up.

“Glitch is a demon...THAT’S what’s causing Hunter to steal the Ink and machine parts!” Dipper said, snapping his fingers in an ‘ah-ha’ moment.

“No!!! I don’t CARE about Ink!!” Glitch piped up. “Or machinery or any crap like that!! I’m a dimensional traveller!!” Glitch added.

“Yeah, right!!!” Dipper snapped.

“I don’t!!!” Glitch defended.

“He’s right, Hunter would NEVER steal ANYTHING.” Stan denied.

“Uh, g-guys…?” Hunter peeped quietly.

“What purpose would I have for Ink and crap like that?!?” Glitch snapped.

“I….I dunno! Somethin….malicious?” Dipper suggested.

“............Invalid hypothesis, Dip-Dip.” Glitch sighed.

“G-Guys, p-please calm down…!” Hunter whimpered.

“Hunter, get behind me.” Stan said, pulling Hunter behind him.

“Wait, Stan, no!” Hunter yelped, getting tugged behind him.

“Wait, let’s just calm down, I’m not gonna hurt you!” Glitch stammered.

“How do we know that, Wiseguy?” Stan asked, narrowing his eyes in skepticism.

“If I wanted to hurt you or Hunter, I woulda done so by now!” Glitch explained shakily.

“I don’t believe that.” Stan frowned.

“Hunter, come on-” Glitch started before Stan stepped back, pulling Hunter back with him.

“You stay the hell away from her.” Stan scowled. Glitch looked at Hunter, eyes begging for her to step in. Her face visibly darkened and she slowly shook her head no sadly. “Now get outta here before I throw ya out.” Stan threatened. Glitch opened his mouth to say something, but just as quickly closed it, leaving the shack’s area. Hunter dripped nervously, slouching slightly in worry and exhaustion.

“You okay, Tiny?” Stan asked, looking back at Hunter.

“Y……….Yeah, Stan-Stan, I’m……..I’ll be okay….” Hunter breathed. Stan felt worry for a second at Hunter’s sudden loss of energy, clapping a hand to her shoulder, ignoring that he squished it slightly.

“Ya sure?” Stan asked gently.

“I…...Yeah, just….Scared I hurt his feelings…” Hunter fretted.

“It’s alright, Tiny. Like ya said; he’s a demon. Demons don’t have any hearts.” Stan assured.

“I……….Yeah…..You’re…...Probably right…” Hunter conceded. Stan took the twins back inside while Hunter sat outside a little bit longer, eventually settling on a hill closeby to watch the sunset.

(Timeskip to sunset)

Hunter put her hands behind her back, palms facing down, propping herself up as she watched the sun set, washing the skies with beautiful shades of orange, yellow, pink, and purple. Hunter was startled out of her thoughts by footsteps on the grass behind her. “Wh-Who’s there?” Hunter demanded, turning around recognizing a familiar face.

“Heya, Tiny, did I spook ya?” Stan asked, gently padding over. Hunter breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar gruff voice.

“Stan...I...You scared me there…” Hunter sighed. Stan slowly made his way to Hunter’s side, sitting down next to her.

“You doin’ okay? Ya need to talk about anything?” Stan asked.

“Why would I…? I’m fine…” Hunter admitted, looking to the side and breaking eye contact.

Stan tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Hunter, you’re doin’ that thing ya do when somethin’s troublin’ ya. What happened? Was it because of earlier?” Stan asked, worried. Hunter didn’t answer, gently picking at the grass by her feet anxiously. “Was it that fight from earlier?” Stan repeated. Hunter still didn’t respond. Stan sighed, thinking of how to get Hunter to talk.

“Tiny….” Stan sighed. Hunter pulled her knees to her chest, mouth forming a frown of discomfort. “Tiny, look, I understand it’s hard to open up to others about some things, but I’m here to listen if ya need it.” Stan suggested.

Still dead silence from Hunter. “Well, I gave it my best….” Stan sighed, going to get up. “Guess that Demon made ya feel like ya can’t trust your own-” Stan started.

“He’s not a bad guy, ya know, Stanley…” Hunter mumbled. Stan perked up, looking down at Hunter.

“What was that? Ya know we’ve talked about your mumbling.” Stan asked gently.

“He’s not a bad guy, Stanley…! We have a symbiotic relationship…!” Hunter blurted out, eyes tearing up, shining like diamonds in the moonlight.

“Whoa...Tiny, are….Are you okay…?” Stan asked, worried. Hunter sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her hoodie sleeve.

“I just don’t know what to do….! I try my best, but I just never feel good enough…!” Hunter hiccuped, shoulders sagging, showing just how exhausted she was. Stan winced, slowly walking over to her, hands outstretched.

“Tiny, what happened to ya…? You were fine, back when we were kids, but now look at you….You look like a corpse shambling about town, trying to find a job…!” Stan worried. Hunter sniffled, trying to not break down into tears, worrying Stan to the point of no return. She’d NEVER shown her emotions THIS freely before.

“I’ve made so many mistakes, Stan-Stan…! I can’t ever take those mistakes back…!” Hunter shivered, starting to tremble slightly as emotions started to take hold of her reasoning, suffocating the reasoning part of her brain slowly but surely.

“We all have, Tiny…! I-I’m sure people have forgiven ya for those mistakes…!” Stan assured, grinning slightly. Stan was caught by surprise as Hunter fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands.

“They say they have, but I know they’re talking about me behind my back, Stan-Stan…!! Even when they assure me over and over, I still know I don’t deserve forgiveness…!” Hunter wept, choking on tears and air. Stan swiftly slid over, pulling Hunter into a tight hug.

“Hunter Mary Inkwell, you stop that nonsense talk this INSTANT. You are one of the most wonderful people I have EVER met! Don’t you EVER doubt that for ONE SECOND.” Stan scolded softly.

“But I-” Hunter started.

“No, you don’t get to say ‘but’ this time. You’re a FANTASTIC person who deserves the world and more! You are NOT a bad person! You are NOT stupid, worthless, inconsiderate, wasteful, or otherwise bad! You are a source of joy for me, the twins, even other people!” Stan said.

“But I don’t have any purpose…!” Hunter sobbed.

“So? Laze about! Do what you’ve always wanted to do! Go on an adventure, go around the world, go monster hunting, heck, you could even probably become an animator! I don’t care! You are FAR from worthless! You are WORTHWHILE! I don’t care what voice in your head says you’re not, or what some random Joe says you are, you are a WONDERFUL piece of work! Sure, ya have cracks, dents, and scratches, but guess what! That adds CHARACTER to ya!! Those who say otherwise? Answer to ME. Stanley Pines, High School Boxing champ of FOUR YEARS.” Stan announced.

Hunter fell silent, mouth agape in awe at the assurance from Stanley and face stained with tear streaks that glistened in the moonlight. “Stan-Stan…” Hunter gasped.

“We may not be family by blood, but I consider you my little sister. If anyone-and I mean ANYONE-gives you trouble, send em my way.” Stan said.

“I…..I don’t know what to say…” Hunter chuckled sadly, rubbing the tears away, despite more falling down.

“Tiny?” Stan asked, worried.

“I….Oof...Now ya have me feeling all sentimental…” Hunter chuckled sadly.

“And ya know the best part, Tiny?” Stan asked, crouching down to her height, sparking a feeling of familiarity deep within Hunter’s body.

“What?” Hunter asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“This time, out of all times, out of all times of my life,” Stan started, taking a deep breath and making eye contact with Hunter. “I’m not lying.” Stan finished, eyes glimmering with determination. Hunter gawked in awe, not having heard this tone of voice from the taller adult before. Stan’s eyebrows quirked in concern. “Uh, Tiny…?” Stan asked, getting Hunter to gwomp in confusion. Stan pointed at Hunter’s face, pointing out a bit of ink dripping. “Are ya supposed to do that?” Stan asked.

Hunter panicked. She pulled her hoodie hood up higher, hoping to hide her face better from the moonlight. “I-I gotta go, Stan, see ya tomorrow…!” Hunter blurted out, hurrying up and hurrying off.

“Tiny, wait!” Stan called, following her before losing her in the dark forest. “....Are you okay…?” Stan asked nobody as he stopped in the dark forest.

Stan grimaced, worry for his technical little sister now worsened. “What’s going on, Tiny…?” Stan muttered to himself, walking back to the shack.

(At the Mystery Shack.)

Stan walked in the door, closing and locking the door as he got inside, sighing as the events of the day stewed over in his head.

“Grunkle Stan?” Dipper asked, rubbing his eye as he walked downstairs. “Everything *yawwwn* Okay?” Dipper asked, yawning.

“Me? What about you? You should be asleep!” Stan scolded. Dipper shrugged tiredly.

“Couldn’t. What were you doing out so late?” Dipper asked, yawning tiredly.

“I...Went out to try to find Hunter...Make sure she’s okay, ya know?” Stan explained. Dipper nodded, giving a tired ‘mhm’ as he did so.

“Didja find her?” Dipper asked.

“Yeah…” Stan faltered.

“Why’d ya falter? Ya found her, didn’t ya?” Dipper asked.

Stan shook it off. Dipper doesn’t need to know yet. “Never mind, Sport. Ya need to be getting to bed; it’s past your bedtime, Kiddo.” Stan assured. Dipper frowned in disappointment before realizing he wouldn’t win if he fought it.

“But what about Hunter?” Dipper asked as the two walked upstairs.

“Let me worry about her, kiddo. Have a good night, alright?” Stan asked, walking to his door. Dipper nodded, going back to bed. Stan sighed, walking into his room and sitting down, looking at the photo from his pocket. “I’m sure she’s still there somewhere…” Stan sighed, putting the photo down and going to bed, opening his window slightly, just in case.

(With Hunter.)

Hunter ran through the empty streets of Gravity Falls, making sure she was being as careful as possible. No need to get caught. Hunter carefully slipped through a garage door, searching for the supplies she needed.

She snuck through a hanger full of beams, crosswires, gears, and other mechanical devices: perfect. Exactly what she needed. Hunter looked around, picking out five fifteen tooth gears, ten twenty tooth gears, a couple spokes, a couple tubes, a couple robotic arms, and four gearbox power connecters. Satisfied with her haul, Hunter put the items in her backpack, padding them so that they didn’t make any clattering noises. Hunter returned the items home before heading back out to a laboratory, stealing a couple barrels of the special Ink she always required. As a test, however, Hunter grabbed one barrel of a different kind of Ink that would, hopefully, help prevent her dripping so often.

Hunter hurried home, hiding everything from her outing in her basement, not daring to look at the now empty pit under her invention. She knew it was down there-it HAD to be, but she didn’t want to chance seeing it.

Just thinking about it made her stomach bubble with regret and guilt. She felt as though her legs and arms would give out on her, feeling as though they were weighed down by cinder blocks, gritting her teeth in a grimace.

It happened so quickly-it happened so swiftly-it happened because she lost her temper. She would never let Stan down in this place. She didn’t want the incident to repeat itself-she wouldn’t ALLOW the incident to repeat itself, even if it meant keeping visitors away.

Frowning, Hunter left her basement, closing and locking the door. Hunter retreated to her room, going into her bucket and going to sleep for the night. She thought over telling Stan about her plan, but ultimately decided against it; her relationship with him was already rocky due to the events thirty years ago, why make it worse? Hunter drifted off to sleep, humming an old lullaby to herself from her childhood.

“It’s okay, Tiny, you’re safe here with me. Here with us is your safe space, your parents can’t find you here. No need to cry, I’ll be right here. Right by your side, always staying near. There ain’t no call to worry, so please don’t cry or fret, a couple year’s difference won’t change you, no matter how long it is.” Hunter hummed to herself.

(Timeskip to the morning.)

Hunter got up, forming into a full human again and stepping out of her bucket, getting ready for the day. Hunter walked downstairs, confused when she didn’t see Glitch anywhere downstairs. Maybe he just needed some space after yesterday. That was fine, Hunter understood, sometimes, she needed space from herself too. Hunter winced, gently holding her wrist. She knew the scars had been healed for years now, but it still stung sometimes, usually when she thought bad things about herself. She shook it off.

Hunter got herself a granola bar for breakfast, as she hadn’t been feeling all that hungry that morning. She knew if she told Stanley, he’d flip, but that’s why she WOULDN’T tell him. She knew how he and….She knew how he was about self care and stuff like that. He got scary when he heard Hunter hadn’t self cared that day, so she’d resulted to either lying to him, or not telling him at all. Sure, both options were horrible, but telling him the truth would hurt her worse, as she felt she inconvenienced Stanley most of the time.

Hunter checked the clock, knowing that she had to return to the Shack at around noon-time, as she promised. Hunter went down to her basement, grabbing some of the new Ink and injecting some of it into her body, which had hurt as much as a pillow hitting her in the face, as she’d been used to needle pains due to having to give herself more stability. “It’s for the greater good, Hunter…” Hunter assured herself.

Hunter headed back upstairs, getting her bag and getting ready to head out. Taking a deep breath, she started her way back to the Mystery Shack, shaking off any and all worries she had: Stan was her technical brother, he wouldn’t judge her too harshly, that wasn’t how he worked!

He wouldn’t judge her. He wouldn’t judge her. He WOULDN’T. JUDGE. HER. So why was she hesitating? She found herself stopped just outside the entrance to the Mystery Shack’s area of land, breath caught in her throat. She was so shaky. She was so shaky, she was losing her sight, she was losing her sense of touch, what was going on?! Hunter eventually mustered up the strength to take one step back.

Then another.

Then another.

Suddenly, she was in a full-on sprint away, out of control of her legs. She tried to stop, by GOD she TRIED to stop, but she couldn’t.

She COULDN’T. STOP. RUNNING. Hunter started freaking out, losing grip on staying calm, eventually coming to a stop in a small cave just a while away from the Mystery Shack. She stayed inside the cave, collecting her thoughts.

“God, I thought I was over this...I thought I grew up...I thought I wasn’t a coward anymore…!” Hunter scolded herself. Hunter beat herself up, starting to space out as she did so.

Eventually, Hunter was snapped back to reality as she suddenly got a heat flash. Hunter swiftly panicked, checking her backpack, swearing under her breath as she noticed a lack of some form of sugar inside. “Damn...That’s not good…” Hunter swore. Hunter’s vision soon started blurring and eventually getting covered with black spots. Hunter slowly got up, collapsing against a wall soon after, panicking as she knew she had no way to contact anyone for help.

(Timeskip a few hours.)

“-un-er?” A voice called, barely discernible. Hunter didn’t move.

“H-n-er?!” They called again, panic lacing their voice.

“T-ny, co-e on!!!! W--e -p!!” A different voice, gruffer than the first, called. Hunter slowly stirred, barely able to open her eyes.

“Ow…” Hunter winced at the sudden light level shift.

“Is she gonna be okay, Grunkle Stan!?” Mabel asked, fear lacing her voice.

“Mabel, it’ll be okay, calm down.” Stan hushed. “Tiny, can ya move your hand for me? I need to gauge how bad the crash is.” Stan requested.

Hunter barely moved her hand half an inch, worrying Stan immensely.

“Okay, it’s bad.” Stan announced.

“What does she need?” Dipper asked.

“Something with sugar that’s not energy intensive to get into her system. Like...Liquid sugar, some form of Honey, I dunno-” Stan started.

“Sugar cubes!” Mabel grinned. Stan was starstruck.

“....Yes, actually.” Stan nodded. Mabel hopped over, giving the sugar cubes to Hunter. Hunter slowly downed the cubes one by one, slowly returning to normal.

“How long have I been out?” Hunter asked, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

“I dunno, when’d ya head out?” Stan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Around like...what, 11:30?” Hunter said, confused.

“You’ve been out for about four hours, maybe.” Stan said, wobbling a hand as he estimated the time.

“FOUR-” Hunter started.

“Calm down, preserve your energy.” Stan said.

“Four HOURS?” Hunter gasped.

“Yep. We came out lookin’ for ya because ya didn’t show up when ya said you would.” Dipper said.

“Oh my….I’m so sorry…” Hunter said, facepalming.

“What’d I tell ya?” Stan reminded, Hunter’s face heating up.

“Stan-Stan, not in front of the kids…!” Hunter groaned.

“What did I tell you?” He repeated.

“Keep something in my bag in case of a blood sugar crash…!” Hunter wheezed.

“And what DIDN’T ya do?” Stan asked.

“Keep something in my bag in case of a blood sugar crash…!” Hunter groaned.

“I know it seems like I narc on ya, but it’s because I care. You’re my favorite little sister in the world, I don’t wanna lose that.” Stan smiled.

“I know…!” Hunter smiled back shyly.

“It sure seems like ya keep forgetting that! I’ll keep remindin’ ya however I can!” Stan promised.

“But what if others are present…?” Hunter winced.

“So?! I’d announce to the world how much I love my little sister! I’d scream it as loud as I can!” Stan joked.

“Please...Don’t…” Hunter said, face getting more flustered, still visible despite her hoodie hood still being on.

“Come on, you’re blushing~!” Stan grinned, nudging Hunter gently.

“Because you’re embarrassing!” Hunter wheezed.

“Darn right I am! That’s sorta my right, as a big brother!” Stan said proudly.

“Oh my Jupiter, you’re SUCH a dork…!” Hunter groaned.

“Not just any dork~! I’m your dork!” Stan grinned.

“OH MY GOD, STAN, I AM GOING TO DIE OF OVERHEATING, SHUT UP!!” Hunter wheezed.

“Are ya gonna take better care of yourself?” Stan asked.

“Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine! If it gets ya to stop!” Hunter wheezed.

“Thank you! Little sissy~!” Stan teased.

“I AM GOING TO SMACK YOU.” Hunter growled.

“What~? Wouldja rather I say-” Stan started.

“DON’T YOU DARE.” Hunter threatened.

“Moist~?” Stan said, dragging out the word.

Hunter stood up swiftly, despite how bad of an idea it probably was, and started walking away. “NOPE. I AM NOT DEALING WITH THIS.” Hunter snapped.

“I….I don’t know that word, and I ALREADY HATE IT.” Dipper grimaced.

“She hates it! She and…” Stan trailed off, smile slowly fading.

“Grunkle Stan?” Dipper asked.

“...A good friend of ours!” Stan picked back up, smile returning.

“Really?” Dipper asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he beat me with a book for sayin’ it once!” Stan laughed.

“I may do the same.” Dipper frowned, nose wrinkling slightly in disgust.

“What? Moist?” Mabel asked.

“Don’t.” Dipper warned.

“What’s wrong, Dip-Dip? Don’t like moist~?” Mabel teased.

“We are siblings, I can LEGALLY throw you.” Dipper warned.

“Okay you two, calm down.” Stan laughed.

The group started heading back to the Mystery Shack, finding Hunter waiting on the front porch.

“Ya didn’t go inside?” Stan asked, confused.

“I found it rude to go inside without asking.” Hunter shrugged.

“Nonsense! Ya practically live here, even if ya don’t ACTUALLY!” Stan grinned.

“Yeah, I know, just typical manners I learned as a….Kid..” Hunter said, voice faltering slightly.

“You okay, man? Your voice faltered.” Dipper asked skeptically.

“Yeah, we don’t talk about that.” Stan said, stepping in before the twins asked too many questions.

“I-It’s fine, Stan, I-I don’t mind, they’re just c-curious..!” Hunter assured, waving her hands around.

“Hunter, no, you don’t seem comfortable with talking about it yet, so ya don’t HAVE to talk about it.” Stan assured.

“Stan, come on, bud, it-it’s fine..!” Hunter said, smiling shakily.

Stan quirked an eyebrow in concern. “I know that smile, Hunter. I know that means that you’re uncomfortable.” Stan said.

“It-It’s fine, Stan, I-I promise..!” Hunter said, shaking slightly.

“Hunter, ya need to work on your assertiveness. Ya can BARELY bring yourself to say no to people.” Stan sighed.

“I COULD say no to someone!” Hunter defended.

“Oh? Go ahead. Show me.” Stan said.

“W-Wait, what?” Hunter asked nervously.

“Tell me no.” Stan elaborated.

“I….You’re my brother, I can’t say that to you!” Hunter said.

“Pretend I’m someone ya hate. Pretend I’m your mom.” Stan said.

Hunter shrank down, backing against a wall, shielding her face.

“Wait, that was a poor choice…” Stan groaned, facepalming.

“I-I-I-I-I-I’m sorry…!” Hunter whimpered, shaking slightly.

“Hunter, calm down, it’s okay, you’re here, you’re alive, you’re safe, you’re with me, you’re not there anymore.” Stan assured, sitting next to Hunter, but not touching her until she gave him the go-ahead.

Hunter winced as Stan sat next to her, but regained comfort as she recognized him. As she looked to him on her left, she could have sworn she got thrown back into junior year of High School, but she shook herself back to current day, not willing to linger on the past.

“You okay, Tiny?” Stan asked. Hunter nodded, slowly leaning in to give Stan a hug, Stan hugging back only when she gave him the okay.

“.....Am I-” Hunter started.

“Do I need to give ya the same pep talk I did last night?” Stan asked.

“......Am I at fault for what happened back at home…?” Hunter asked.

“No. Your mom was like a Demon; no heart, all barbs.” Stan assured, not noticing the wince from Hunter.

“I...But I tended to be a bad kid...I-I snuck out…!” Hunter objected.

“Because she never let ya go outside.” Stan objected.

“But-” Hunter started.

“The only thing you’re at fault for, Tiny, is being a wonderful person. You’re such an innocent person, you’d never do ANYTHING wrong without reasoning.” Stan said. “You’re one of the most innocent people I’ve EVER known. If anyone’s at fault, it’s me for not doing something sooner.” Stan said.

“No!!” Hunter snapped, dripping slightly, surprising Stan.

“Whoa.” Stan winced.

“You’re not at fault, I am for not following and meeting their expectations! If I’d just tried harder, I woulda been fine most nights! If I just TRIED, I woulda been fine! If I’d just put in EFFORT, I woulda been okay!” Hunter freaked out.

“Tiny-” Stan started.

“If I’d JUST LISTENED, I woulda been fine! If I wasn’t such a DUMB, STUPID, SELFISH KID, I WOULDA BEEN-” Hunter started.

“HUNTER, CALM DOWN.” Stan said, gently grabbing Hunter to snap her out of it.

“But-” Hunter started.

“No buts. You. Are. A. GOOD. PERSON.” Stan stressed heavily. “JUST because that GLITCH Demon showed up and made ya doubt yourself doesn’t mean jack diddly SQUAT.” Stan frowned.

Hunter froze at the mention of Glitch being bad, defense mode activating. “H-He’s not bad…!” Hunter defended.

“Let’s think here; I see ya after thirty years after ya make a deal with a Demon and ya see to have a worse mental state than when we last met, he said something CLEARLY bad to upset you to tell everyone he’s a Demon, you two have an unHEALTHY connection as he calls it, but nah, he’s a pure, sweet, innocent Angel.” Stan grumbled.

“He’s only thirteen..!” Hunter whimpered.

“.................................Well hot belgian waffles.” Stan winced.

“Yeah.” Hunter frowned. “Then again, maybe he didn’t come home because he needs space...Maybe he doesn’t...Like me anymore...I don’t blame him…” Hunter whimpered, hugging her knees to her chest. Hunter winced slightly, trying to shake it off. “I’m fine, just….A headache…” Hunter assured, mostly to herself.

“Maybe ya need a break, take a day off of….Whatever job ya have…?” Stan guessed.

“I….Don’t HAVE a job.” Hunter winced. “......Not anymore, at least…” Hunter added quietly, hiding her hands in her pockets.

“Well, we could always use an extra employee here, if ya want!” Stan offered.

“I…..Maybe...I don’t wanna take up valuable space…” Hunter trailed off.

“Ya won’t, trust me!” Stan grinned.

“Ya sure…?” Hunter asked sheepishly.

“Come on, Tiny~! Would I lie to you~?” Stan grinned. Hunter grew an unamused look on her face.

“Ya don’t want me to answer that, Stanford.” Hunter frowned.

“....................Alright, fine, I get it, but I ain’t lying! My offer still stans this time!” Stan grinned.

“.....................Really?” Hunter asked.

“What? I thought the pun was charming!” Stan defended.

“Oh, you are SO lucky you are my brother…!” Hunter sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Ya thought it was PUNamusing?” Stan grinned.

“STOP.” Hunter warned.

“Come on, you’re smiling~!” Stan grinned, nudging Hunter’s side gently.

“Just because I AM, doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” Hunter said.

Stan laughed, Dipper and Mabel joining him soon after. “Okay, fine, they’re amusing.” Hunter sighed heavily.

“Awww~! I thought I’d get A LITTLE more than THAT~!” Stan teased.

“DO NOT PUSH YOUR LUCK, STANFORD FILBRICK PINES.” Hunter warned.

Stan fell silent immediately. “That’s what I thought.” Hunter smirked.

“........Yikes….” Dipper winced.

“............I must be in big trouble, if you’re using my full name.” Stan winced.

“Don’t test me.” Hunter teased.

Stan finally realized it was a joke, thinking his options over. “Hmm...How about this, ya get inside before I say ‘it’~!” Stan grinned.

“YOU WOULDN’T.” Hunter gasped, faking offense.

“What~? Mo-” Stan started. Hunter darted inside, door slamming shut behind her, causing everyone to break out laughing.

“Awww~! Ya didn’t give me a chance to say it~!” Stan teased.

“I WILL LOCK THIS DOOR.” Hunter warned.

“I will break down said door.” Stan added.

“I will go hide in the corner until needed.” Hunter said.

“No, you will not!” Stan said, going to stop Hunter.

(Timeskip to next day)

Hunter got up, wincing as she felt a slight stinging pain. She shook it off, working through the pain to start getting ready for the day.

Hunter got herself a granola bar, stuffing her backpack with the typical blood sugar control snacks, not wanting to have another crash later.

“Okay...It’ll be fine...Glitch, I’m leaving…!” Hunter called, only getting silence as a response. “R….Right...He’s….Not here…” Hunter frowned. Hunter grabbed her bag, starting to walk to the Shack.

As she started walking, she tried ignoring anything bad that came to mind. Already getting ONE lecture from Stan was enough for a week, let alone THREE in one day. “It’s okay...He’s family...He won’t bite…” Hunter reassured herself, falling onto her face.

“..............Son of a-” Hunter started.

(At the Mystery Shack.)

Stan jumped as his phone rang, answering. “Yello?” Stan said.

“So…..Stan-Stan…? Can ya….Sorta kinda come pick me up…? I….Sorta kinda maybe fell over from pain...I can’t walk….at least, long distances..” Hunter winced.

“I think so, yeah, where are ya?” Stan asked.

“On the sidewalk of Maple drive......” Hunter sighed, defeatedly.

“Really? Ya made it halfway! Congrats! That’s further than yesterday!” Stan grinned, only to gain defeated sobs in response. “Oh-kay, not good timing…” Stan winced. “Okay, I’ll come get ya, don’t move.” Stan said.

“NOT LIKE I CAN, YA LITTLE-” Hunter started.

“I mean stay where you are!” Stan said, quickly hanging up.

“Kids, I’m heading out to help Hunter get to work!” Stan called.

“Huh? What’s the matter?” Dipper asked, worried.

“Hunter’s havin’ a bit of pain-I’m assuming it’s a girl thing, so I’m just leavin’ it at that.” Stan said.

“Oh no!! I’ll get the ibuprofen and heat pads ready!! The hot coco too!” Mabel said.

“Don’t burn yourself! Wait...How did you know what I mean-” Stan started.

“I’m a girl and Mom deals with it all the time!” Mabel called from the kitchen. “So does Wendy!” Mabel added.

“Okay, well, I’m going, don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.” Stan said.

“I can’t promise anything~!” Mabel sang.

“I’ll make sure she won’t.” Dipper said.

“Thanks.” Stan said, heading out.

(With Hunter.)

Hunter sat upright, wincing as she did so, so that people were able to pass by without much trouble.

“Are...you okay…?” Candy asked.

“I’m fine...Just typical pains…” Hunter winced.

“Oof...I didn’t bring my Ibuprofen with me…” Candy apologized.

“It’s fine, I’ve been through worse…” Hunter assured.

“What, did you get into a car accident or something?” Candy asked.

“...I think...Maybe it was just a dream...Who knows…” Hunter shrugged.

“Well, I’m gonna go meet up with my friends, hope to see you later, and hope you feel better!” Candy smiled.

Hunter smiled back, perking up slightly as Stan pulled up. Candy waved, smiling. “Hi Stan!” Candy greeted. “Is Mabel still hanging out today?” Candy asked.

“I’m sure she will be, yeah.” Stan nodded. Hunter groaned, attempting to stand up. Stan hurried over, catching her as she was about to fall over. “Okay, you’re not allowed to move anywhere without someone with you today. If you try to do so, I will be very disappointed in you.” Stan said.

Hunter nodded, not having enough energy to fight him on the matter.

(In the car.)

“.....Stan-Stan…? Is it normal to hear static…?” Hunter asked.

“No….? I don’t think it is…!” Stan worried.

“Huh….I wonder what’s wrong…” Hunter frowned, worried.

“I-I’m sure you’re fine! It’s probably just….that, and Glitch’ll probably be back soon and he can tell us what’s going on!” Stan assured.

“......He’s normally never been gone this long...Was it something I said…? Was I too harsh…?” Hunter frowned, dripping slightly.

Stan winced, worrying slightly. “I…….I’m sure nothing’s wrong..! It probably just took a bit more time is all…!” Stan assured.

“But usually he’s back in an hour…! And usually static doesn’t sound this loud, usually it’s not this bad…! Usually it’s only when Glitch takes a shower…!” Hunter whimpered.

“What would happen if he touched water? Like, fully got into a pool or lake? Like, submerged in the water?” Stan asked.

“He would most likely be in pain...Why…?” Hunter asked.

“........Does said pain affect you too?” Stan asked.

“Not usually...But then again, he does dilute his water...I dunno what happens when he touches pure water…” Hunter shrugged tiredly. “Plus, I don’t think he can swim...So if he jumped into a lake of sorts, he wouldn’t be able to come up…” Hunter added.

“..............HECK.” Stan winced.

“Stan-Stan…? Is everything okay..?” Hunter asked, worried.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s okay, just...Tell me if the static gets worse, okay?” Stan asked. “Or, ya know, the pain, too.” Stan added. Hunter nodded.

“10-4, Bro-Bro…” Hunter nodded tiredly.

Stan thought over the potential places that Glitch could be, not being happy or satisfied with any of them.

“.......Wait, he headed towards the woods..” Hunter said. “So….” Hunter said. Stan pulled up to the Shack, helping Hunter get inside.

“I got some Ibuprofen and a heated blanket!” Mabel said, helping out however she could.

“I’ll be fine, so long as I don’t….Walk long distances…!” Hunter assured.

“Nonsense! Now, I have an important question: Shapes or Pillows?” Mabel asked.

“............Shapes…?” Hunter said, confused.

“Great! I can getcha that! Shapes it is!” Mabel said, skipping into the kitchen.

“Wait, why did you ask?” Hunter called.

“Hold on a sec!” Mabel called.

Stan backed out of the room before Hunter could say anything, washing his hands clean of the whole ordeal. “Whipped cream, yes or no?!” Mabel called.

“Uh….Yes?” Hunter called back.

“Sweet! My kinda gal!!” Mabel grinned, walking into the room with two mugs of hot cocoa.

(With Stan.)

Stan looked through the woods, looking all over for Glitch, hoping he was okay and just hanging out somewhere. As he started heading towards the lake, a loud splash caught his attention, heart dropping pretty much onto the ground.

“Oh, that better not be him…!” Stan worried.

(With Hunter.)

Hunter yelped, shoving her hands over her ears in an attempt to shut out the static, dropping the hot chocolate onto the ground in front of her. “Hunter? What’s wrong?!” Mabel worried.

Dipper rushed downstairs, holding the hat Glitch had, clearly worried. “Mabel, is everything okay?!” Dipper asked, clearly panicking.

“Something’s wrong with Hunter, I-I don’t know what’s going on…!” Mabel worried.

“Wait...Hunter said she had a connection with Glitch...Doesn’t that mean that she feels what Glitch is feeling…?!” Dipper worried.

Hunter whimpered as she heard Glitch’s thoughts, curling in on herself.

“Hunter, is everything okay…?!” Dipper asked.

“I shoulda gone after him…! I shoulda talked to him-I-I-I shouldn’t have said anything…!!” Hunter whimpered.

“Hunter, it’s okay, calm down…!” Mabel begged.

“I shoulda gone after him…!!” Hunter panicked, dripping slightly.

“Hunter, it’s-” Mabel started, putting a hand on her shoulder, feeling it sink in slightly. “O….kay…?” Mabel trailed off, pulling her hand back. “What in the world….?” Mabel gasped.

“Oh my….” Dipper said.

(With Stan.)

Stan looked around, noticing a pile of clothes. Well. THAT’S concerning.

“Oh no...Isn’t that….Glitch’s...Jacket…?” Stan winced, going to look down at the lake.

As panic took over, Stan went in after Glitch, pulling him up to the surface, struggling slightly due to the weight. Stan eventually made it back to the surface, setting Glitch down and laying on his backside.

“Oh, Hunter owes me for this.” Stan panted. Stan slowly got up, grabbing some spare clothes from the back of the car, getting Glitch out of his wet clothes and into some fresh ones, including the beanie he took back from him.

(With Hunter.)

Hunter started fidgeting, almost hurting herself half the time, as panic started settling in. “Is Glitch okay..?! What’s going on…?! Why’d the pain suddenly lessen…!?” Hunter panicked.

“I-It’s okay, Hunter, calm down…!” Mabel urged carefully.

“Nobody cares, nobody cares, nobody cares….!” Hunter panicked.

“What…?! That’s ridiculous! We c-” Mabel started.

“He thinks nobody cares…!! He’s in pain, I can’t do anything about it…! I can’t stop it…!” Hunter hiccuped.

“Wait, who…?!” Dipper asked, concerned.

“Who do you think….?! The ONE person I was supposed to keep safe…!! I put his life in danger…! I’m gonna lose ANOTHER family member….!!” Hunter whined.

“It-It’s okay, Hunter…!” Mabel assured.

“NO, IT’S NOT OKAY!!! I WAS SUPPOSED TO KEEP HIM SAFE!! HE WOULDA BEEN SAFE IF I DIDN’T BLOW UP AT HIM FOR DOING NOTHING WRONG!! IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU WHAT HE WAS, EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY!! BUT I DID BECAUSE I PANICKED BECAUSE I DIDN’T PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT HE SAID!!!” Hunter snapped, dripping worse.

The front door opened, Stan walking in holding Glitch. “I’m home, and VERY tired!” Stan called. Dipper quickly cleared off a space to put Glitch down on. “So...He needs medical help…” Stan said. Mabel nodded, running off to grab bandages.

“Can I do anything…?” Hunter asked.

“No, you, sit, now.” Stan said.

“But I-” Hunter started.

“SIT.” Stan growled.

“C-Can I at least sit by him…?” Hunter asked timidly.

Stan moved Glitch closer to Hunter. “If I see you move from this spot, I am grounding you so hard, it may stretch beyond the summer.” Stan warned. Hunter nodded, hugging Glitch gently.

Mabel rushed downstairs with the medical supplies, falling halfway down, rushing over. “I’m okay!” Mabel assured.

“Just hand me the bandages.” Dipper said. Mabel handed them over.

(Timeskip)

Glitch slowly woke up, noticing Hunter passed out nearby in a very familiar living room in the Pines family household. “Oh no…” Glitch panicked, falling off of where he was sitting.

Hunter slowly woke up, rubbing the leftover sleep from her eyes. Glitch hid behind a chair, shaking and trying not to cry. Hunter winced, not wanting to do anything. “St-Stan-Stan…?” Hunter called.

“What?” Stan called back.

“H-He’s up…!” Hunter called back.

“Is he okay?” Stan asked.

“He looks kinda traumatized…” Hunter whimpered. Stan walked in.

“Okay, where is he?” Stan asked, Dipper and Mabel close behind.

“Behind the chair…” Hunter said, pointing at the chair.

Stan walked closer, stopping when Glitch backed into a corner in a panic. “Hey, it’s okay, I ain’t gonna hurtcha, okay?” Stan said gently.

“But you said-” Glitch started.

“I know what I said, but I regret saying it. It was said in the heat of the moment. I wasn’t in the right for saying that. I had no right to say that about a thirteen year old.” Stan winced, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Glitch whimpered, clearly on the verge of a panic attack. Stan thought something over, settling on something. “Okay kid, lemme let ya in on a secret that I have with Hunter, when she gets like this, we do a little breathing exercise to calm down, would you wanna do that?” Stan asked gently.

Glitch whimpered, unsure of if he should trust him. “....I’m sorry I snapped at you. We haven’t had good encounters with other Demons-not saying that you’re like them! We’re just...Wary, nowadays.” Stan said.

“I’m not full demon…” Glitch said.

“I...I know, but there’s still that Demon part and...We just don’t wanna get hurt again, ya know…?” Stan smiled crookedly.

“I dunno…” Glitch said.

“It’s fine, it won’t hurt, I promise! Scout’s honor!” Stan promised, holding his hand over his heart.

“I don’t like promises…” Glitch said. “They usually end up broken..” Glitch added.

“Not mine, kiddo. My promises are the most genuine thing this side of Oregan!” Stan assured.

(Timeskip.)

After Glitch calmed down, Hunter snuck home, repairing the Ink Machine in the basement. As she wrapped up, she felt her phone vibrate and she went to answer it.

“Hello? Yeah, what’s up, Stan-Stan?” Hunter asked. Hunter nodded as he explained. “How much? Yeah, I can-no, I can help with that. No, ya don’t need to tell me. Midnight? Alright. See ya then, bye.” Hunter said, hanging up. Hunter took a deep breath, getting everything together and ready for midnight.

(Elsewhere.)

Agent Trigger checked a screen, jumping in surprise as he spotted something on it. “Agent Powers, sir, we have a sighting!!” Agent Trigger called. Agent Powers walked over, looking at the screen.

“What did you find, Agent Trigger?” Agent Powers asked.

“We found the culprits for the thefts, sir!!” Trigger said.

“Really? Who?” Powers asked. Trigger pointed at the screen, showing two people; Hunter and- “Stanford Pines. Bingo.” Powers smirked.

“What should we do, sir?” Trigger asked, awaiting orders.

“Well, Agent Trigger, we do the smart thing.” Powers said.

“What’s that?” Trigger asked, confused.

“We call in Special Ops.” Powers ordered.

“Sir, yes sir!!” Trigger said, standing up and saluting.