#I must have gotten at least like 12 followers that I had to block because they were bots

[rydrake6]

So is Tumblr going to do anything about the influx of porn bots or is that just a thing that we have to deal with.

[mionemymind]

Chapter 3: The Harsh Treatment

Fake Memories

Series Summary: After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?

Chapter Summary: What will happen to Y/n as the team pushes her past her limits? 

A/n: I lied, I decided to be nice and post it now. Honestly, the amount of support that I’m receiving from this fanfic has literally made me smile so much. I really love all of you who read and/or comment. You mean the world to me. Let me know what you think. :) (Not my GIF)

Warnings: Starvation, harmful thoughts, curse words, self-doubt, mentions of blood, injuries, angst

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |

Y/n abruptly woke up at the feeling of pressurized gas coursing through her body. She quickly sat up, unable to see anything in the white fog. The cold feeling only lasted a couple seconds before F.R.I.D.A.Y stated, “Fire has been contained.” Y/n hugged herself for warmth as she waited for the fog to disappear. This was the 13th time this month that she was woken up with pressurized gas. At first, it was foam but someone in maintenance had changed the system after the 5th time she woke up. 

Y/n looked at her surroundings and sighed at the damages to her sheets. There were burn marks along with small amounts of frostbite from the gas. “At this rate, I won’t have money for food.” With a grim face, Y/n got up from her bed and proceeded with taking everything off her bed, a routine she unfortunately started to learn. 

Y/n didn’t know when things got worse. If she had to guess, maybe it was after the whole fiasco with Wanda. The team had been on edge ever since then. “They probably thought I hurt her,” Y/n thought at the time, but it was far from the truth. She had wanted to explain herself to the team but dismissed those thoughts with, “What’s the point in trying? I’ll always be guilty to them.” 

As for Wanda, the still heartbroken girl didn’t dare to speak to the team about that night. Even she didn’t quite know what happened. Since that night, she only lied to herself stating that maybe Y/n had done something. It would probably remove the guilt she had when she thought of the blood running down Y/n’s face. But even the lie couldn’t repress the truth from her thoughts. 

After she collected her bedding, she threw it away in the trash can along with the other damaged beddings. Y/n grabbed her wallet off her night stand and opened it. She couldn’t feel it, but her heart dropped at the sight of the lack of money she had. Only a $20 dollar bill as well as a couple ones were left. She closed her eyes and tried her best to keep herself calm, to try and act like the world wasn’t closing in on her. It was a couple minutes later when she opened her eyes and looked at her wallet again. “This was supposed to last me for the rest of the month.” Y/n rubbed her forehead, feeling the overwhelming stress from her lack of funds. 

One might ask, “Aren’t you an Avenger? Shouldn’t you make a shit ton of money.” And at one point, Y/n would say yes, she did. But it all came back to that night. A week after, she had overheard a conversation that went…

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this to her.” Y/n was about to go around the corner, but decided to wait at the sound of Steve’s voice. “It’s simple Rodgers - unless I have to remind you why we needed to redo the glass in the conference room.” Steve sighed at Tony’s simple minded actions. Y/n could practically feel him crossing his arms in a disapproving manner. 

“Well she did work fair and hard for her money Tony - this just feels wrong.” Y/n heard a couple clicks before Tony replied with, “This is for Wanda. Anything to get Y/n out of here by her own means is worth it. If you have a problem with this, you must not care as much for Wanda as I thought.” Steve sighed again seeing as he was morally put in an awkward position. It was either care for Y/n or care for Wanda. “That’s what I thought.” Tony left with a smug look on his face as he clicked more on the screen in front of him. 

It didn’t take long for Y/n to see the effects of Tony’s decision. Her pay day was the following day and the overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety rose up within her as she only had $400 to survive until the next pay day, which was a month later. Since then, her food portions have been small to say the least. Y/n learned that she only had enough money for the month to eat at least once a day and even that was cutting it. The dramatic changes to her diet had slowly affected her powers but it recently had an exponential increase. 

This was her fourth month of hardly eating when her powers started to flare at night. It has gotten to the point that Y/n couldn’t control them in her sleep leading to F.R.I.D.A.Y having to deal with her fireside. But her powers weren’t the only thing that has changed. If anyone were to actually look, they would see that Y/n had gotten skinnier. Her literal glow was getting duller and duller the more time passed.  

However, Y/n refused to feel sorry for herself. The sentence “I deserve this” was burned into her head. The brain tricks she puts herself through even allowed her to convince that Tony's decision was right. That Wanda didn’t need to tell the truth to the team. That Steve didn’t need to defend her. And that the team certainly was allowed to make her feel like nothing. Because to Y/n, if she didn’t deserve this, then why would you possibly treat a person like this? Just why? 

Of course, Wanda didn’t notice these changes at all. The girl was trying her best to avoid Y/n as much as possible. She always had exit strategies in place in case she were to be in the same vicinity as Y/n. However, Wanda also didn’t notice that lack of Y/n’s presence. Much to her dismay, Y/n’s efforts were the reason they didn’t see each other much. 

What Wanda did notice though was the slow and gradual decline of snacks in her cubby. It left her to question whether Natasha was done doing these small favors for her. But her reports were still getting done. 

The red head didn’t have much room to think though as she got slammed down on the mat from the other red head. “Take a ten - you’re distracted and we can’t keep going like this.” Wanda grumbled at another failed attempt to flip Natasha over. Hand to hand combat was one of the few subjects that Wanda hated the most. With the help of Natasha, Wanda got up and walked over to the waters on the other side of the room. She was gulping down the remaining when Natasha’s words caught her off guard. “What happened?” 

Wanda cocked an eyebrow while still drinking her bottle, needing more elaboration. Natasha faced Wanda while hundreds of thoughts racked her mind. Luckily for her, Wanda had trained her on how to make them quiet enough that Wanda wouldn’t be able to hear. When Natasha found the right words, she said, “I am not doubting you. I am doubting her…” Wanda closed the bottle and looked around the room to avoid Natasha’s eyes. This had been the first time that anyone from the team had remotely even asked her about that night. To be frank, she hadn’t expected Natasha to be the one to break the ice. Usually it was Steve that would act like the team’s counselor. Guess things change. 

Wanda sighed and recollected her memory for the night that continued to haunt her. “One minute, I left to get a drink from the bar. - she said that she needed to go to the bathroom. The next minute, I come back to see her all over blondie.” Wanda’s grip on the bottle tightened at the words she was going to say next. “I thought it was a mistake - that she could have been too drunk that night - b-but her thoughts were so - loud.” Wanda slammed her fist at the table in front of her, tears already falling down her cheeks. “A-a-and I saw everything-” 

The broken hearted girl didn’t have much energy left in her to continue. She dropped to her knees and sobbed into her hands. Natasha kneeled beside Wanda. She pulled the poor girl into her arms, trying her best to physically comfort her. But nothing could really make Wanda feel better. What could you say to a girl that saw every moment where her girlfriend has cheated on her? Nothing - you say nothing. 

“It’s quite pathetic actually,” Tony said as he spun the rod, causing his player to score in foosball. He was currently versing Steve as the two decided to quietly speak about Y/n’s actions for the past couple weeks. Going on the defense again, Steve shot back but Tony was quick to block. “She’s probably just trying to get her money back.” Steve huffed from the sudden slap shot as well as Tony’s rude words. 

For the past couple weeks, Y/n had gone from trying to win Wanda back to trying to win the whole team back. The first thing they noticed was all the completed mission reports and the continuation of it. Clint was the first to jokingly comment, “Bruce must really love mission reports.” But the genius bore a confused look before replying with, “It wasn’t me. Even I haven’t had anything to do in my stack for a couple days.” Bruce had a displeasured look on his face. Clint just assumed it was either he wanted to do his stack of reports or the comment was actually true...or maybe both. 

When it was time for the meeting, Clint had asked everyone in the room, minus Y/n, on who was completing the mission reports for everyone. “Well, I’m doing Wanda’s and mine,” Natasha claimed as she sat in her usual spot. No one was able to detect her lie, but then again, Natasha was always good at lying. 

Clint was quick to figure out that the only person remaining must have been the person responsible. With a straight forward voice, he explained to the team that Y/n had been completing everyones, besides Wanda’s and Natasha’s, reports. Still, Natasha sat there, copying the confused looks on everyone’s faces. She didn’t care to tell them the truth, it wasn’t worth it. However, the meeting proceeded with little comment on Y/n’s actions. She wasn’t worth the mention. 

“What if she actually is trying to say sorry to us?” Steve couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for Y/n, but Tony’s words made the guilt go all away. “Oh - so miss Hydra over here actually wants to apologize - hilarious Steve.” With that, Tony quickly spun the rod and scored the final point, making him win the game. What the two failed to realize was the fact that Y/n had overheard their conversation. She no longer felt hungry for the day and had retreated back to her room, feeling overwhelmingly numb from the confession she heard.

It was a new and different day for Wanda. She had managed to want to try and sit in the common room with her team seeing as sitting in her room no longer gave her the same satisfaction anymore. Scrolling through the tv, she was about to pull up Bewitched when the following words appeared on the screen:

Bewitched is longer provided on Netflix. Please see related tv shows. 

“What do you mean it’s no longer available?” Wanda frustratedly questioned. And here she was trying to have a good day. “Sorry kid, I guess Netflix took it off their streaming service,” Clint said as he leaned over the couch. “No why would they do that?!” Wanda said with an exasperated look. Clint simply shrugged, Netflix did have an awful reputation for getting favorites removed or canceled. “No clue, but you could try other shows.” Wanda crossed her arms and huffed at his suggestion. “I was really feeling Bewitched today.” Ruffling her hair, Clint left after saying, “Try to feel for something else.” 

However, Wanda had failed to feel anything but angry for the remaining of the day. It wasn’t until she sat in her room for the night, aimlessly finding shows in her room when she noticed Bewitched on her home screen. She quickly clicked on it noticing that all eight seasons are there for her own viewing. Her mood immensely increased for the night as she fell asleep in the middle of season two. 

Outside of her room, Y/n had been cleaning up the compound for the night. It was getting harder and harder to clean the kitchen when everything in her wanted to just take a couple of snacks for herself. Her hunger was constantly on her mind as well as the stupid flashes that have sporadically appeared more and more everyday. But she wanted more than anything to prove to the team that she is a good person. Stealing, no matter how minor, was probably the last thing she needed to be labeled as. 

When she completed for the night, she returned to her room but paused outside of her door when she heard the Bewitched theme song loudly play in Wanda’s room. A small smile appeared on her face as she walked back into her room and slept on the floor tonight.

“Did it ever occur to you that I love you - like a lot?” The couple were laying in Carol’s room decorated with punk rock posters and pictures of their team. Small plants were placed around the room while Malcolm in the Middle was used as background noise. 

“Nah. I haven’t heard you say it in approximately - 10 minutes?” Carol laughed as Y/n glanced at her watch. They laid on their sides as they faced each other, their faces being only inches away. “Well I do.” Carol cupped Y/n’s cheek as she soon grew mesmerized. 

There are words to always describe feelings with someone but they all felt overused or incomplete. Because everything felt like this daydream colored borders with warm tones and retro filters as she glanced at Y/n. She felt like she was watching a show that she would never get tired of. Even if the show was in color or black and white, new or old, slow or fast, she would watch just to see her. Just her. 

“You do what?” Carol flicked Y/n’s forehead at her response. “Kidding - kidding.” Y/n said as she rubbed her forehead. Carol rolled her eyes and kissed Y/n’s head as she cuddled into her arms, legs tangled within the sheets. “I do love you.” Y/n kissed her hair as she combed it with her hand. “I know,” she whispered, hoping Carol would pick up on the secret reference. Because to Y/n, yeah, she’s worth a whole galaxy. 

It was the middle of the night when Steve woke up from a nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Rather than staying in bed to force himself to sleep, he got up and headed to the kitchen for a late night snack. 

Heading into the pantry, Steve pursed his lips noticing that Y/n’s cubby had been empty for weeks it seems like. The guilt that was slowly forming inside him kept building and building. Although he knew he could try to do something about it, the loyalty he had to his family - to Wanda. That was something he didn’t want to break. 

The relationship with Wanda and Steve was something similar to a father and daughter relationship. Steve had always wanted a kid of his own and Wanda had lost her father. The irony of it all just happened to work for the two. Even though Wanda nor Steve would admit it out loud, they viewed each other as the roles that needed to be filled in their lives. They needed each other regardless of titles.

But then there was Y/n. The troubled girl that made Steve absolutely nervous with how quick her and Wanda seemed to like each other. It absolutely didn’t help Steve’s case when the whole team found out about Y/n’s past. His anxiety had practically skyrocketed. It eventually led to a one on one talk with Wanda about how sometimes we need to protect ourselves before letting people in. 

But Y/n was still there. Breaking down Wanda’s walls. So just like any Dad would, Steve watched over. Making sure his girl was always happy and safe. So while Natasha may have refilled Wanda’ cubby and did her reports, Steve had carried Wanda to bed during nights she couldn’t sleep. He made her tea for times that she didn’t want to talk, which was often. He tucked her in at night and cuddled with her when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was just there. 

But so was she. She was there whenever Wanda cried at night. She was there when Wanda would sometimes forget to eat after busying herself all day. She was there to take care of Wanda. She was there when Steve wasn’t. And that meant everything to Steve. So why couldn’t Steve be there for Y/n? 

There were a lot of unanswered questions roaming around Steve’s head. Rather than pondering more about them, he walked around the tower, eating a pack of cookies for himself. Just as he was turning the corner, he glanced towards the conference room to see Wanda asleep in front of her reports. However, the more alarming part was the girl that happened to be right in front of Wanda. Steve quickly grew on high alert and observed Y/n’s actions. However, after a couple minutes of harmless actions, Steve forced his shoulders to relax. “She’s just doing reports - calm down,” Steve thought. 

But he couldn’t calm down. The guilt had maneuvered it’s way back up to his throat as he actually noticed the pale state of the once bright girl. For someone that had literal fire abilities, she lacked the glow of any raging fire. Feeling nothing but guilt all over, Steve felt compelled to say something - anything. But he froze. He didn’t know what to say. 

However, the opportunity soon was lost as Y/n finished everyone’s stack of reports. Steve hid around the corner as Y/n passed him. Hearing a door close was when Steve stepped out of hiding. He glanced towards the direction of Y/n’s room, feeling every need to go to her. But his footsteps led him to Wanda. He picked her up and carried her to her room. Wanda will always be first in Steve’s heart. And nothing could change that. 

“We have to stop this treatment Tony.” Steve waltzed into Tony’s lab the very next day. For once, he couldn’t sleep for the remainder of the night. Y/n was all over his mind. The guilt was practically eating him alive. 

Tony rolled his eyes at Steve’s dramatic fashion for entrances. “Oh - good morning Tony - how are you - I’m actually pretty good.” Steve rolled his eyes as he stood in front of Tony, a hologram in between the two. 

“Cut the crap Tony - I’m being serious.” Steve crossed his arms. This needed to end. “And you think I’m not Rodgers?” Tony was quick to respond, already growing irritated by the conversation. 

“This isn’t right - none of this right.” Steve wiped the hologram to finally get a clear view of Tony as he grew frustrated by the second. Tony simply swiped it back, not wanting to deal with the issue. “Well maybe if she just quit - we wouldn’t need to worry about anything. It’s not my fault Fury hired Ms. Hydra - and if he finds out I fired her, he would not allow it at all.” 

“But can’t you see that your stupid plan isn’t working? All we’re doing is abusing the girl.” Steve wiped the hologram again but Tony simply walked to a different station and continued his work. Angry with his response, Steve walked around the table and stood beside Tony. 

“This needs to end Tony,” Steve said through his gritted teeth. The man was clenching his jaw so hard, it almost looked as if he was going to break his teeth. However, Tony quickly glared at Steve at the mention of his threat. 

“Don’t you fucking dare. Can’t you actually see that I’m trying to protect Wanda.” Steve tilted his head at the awful reasoning for his actions. “How is this protecting Wanda? Why are you even trying to protect her?” 

Tony slammed his fist into the table, feeling his anger rising by the second. “We - no - I need to protect her Steve!”

“Why Tony? Why?” 

“Because I’m the goddamn reason her parents and her country is dead. I’m the reason that everything she ever loved is gone. I’m the reason for her sadness. She, of all people, deserves happiness. And I sure as hell won’t let anyone else hurt her anymore - no more Steve.” Tony didn’t give Steve a chance as he walked out the facility needing a day drink more than ever. 

It was lunch time and all Wanda could think about was the need to cook paprikash. She didn’t know when the last time she had actually cooked. And seeing as the majority of the team was on missions, she could actually cook without interruptions or lingering eyes. 

Walking into the kitchen, Wanda tied her hair up and started to take out the necessary ingredients for the meal. It was when she was talking the spices out when Vision had appeared out of nowhere, nearly scaring the girl. “Vision!” 

Sensing a slight rise in her heart rate and anger, Vision had quickly apologized. “Sorry Wanda.” Wanda shook her head and quickly resumed prepping. “I will try to work on making my presence known. If I may ask, what is it that you’re doing?” 

“I’m making paprikash.” Vision’s mind grew curious at the word and quickly searched his database for it. “I see. A traditional Sokovian food.” Wanda didn’t realize it, but she had felt a little annoyed at the synthezoid’s presence. It wasn’t anything he did, but Wanda desperately wanted alone time for herself. 

Before she could ask, Vision had said, “Good morning Y/n.” Wanda’s quickly grew wide as she avoided glancing in Y/n’s direction. She hadn’t stayed in the tense position though as Vision announced, “Oh - it seems she had left before saying hi back.” 

Feeling ever more frustrated with people’s presence, Wanda was about to ask him to leave but noticed the confusion written all over his face and didn’t hesitate to ask, “What is it Vision?” Vision pursed his lips and contemplated his words. It was visibly obvious to see that he was trying to wrack up what to say. “I think...it’s just…” He sighed knowing that this was going to be a sensitive subject to the witch but knowing everything she's been through, lying was not the best option. “It’s just that Y/n-” Wanda quickly cut Vision off in desperation to know what Y/n had done to Vision. If the girl were to even lay a finger on him, she was sure to deal with it herself.  “What did she do? Did she hurt you? I swear-” Seeing her eyes turn red, Vision immediately explained himself. “-No no no. It’s not that, the complete opposite actually.” Wanda’s eyes slowly turned back to normal. When Vision saw that her heart rate was close to normal, he continued. “It’s just that...Y/n’s vitals have been decreasing in a fluctuating matter. Some days it would be a small decrease, but some days it would be a big decrease. Overall, her health has been poor.” Vision looked back at where Y/n once stood. If he hadn’t quickly analyzed her, he wouldn’t have noticed that today’s vitals was record worst. “Although she does have physical injuries, she seems to continue to radiate pain throughout her body even when those injuries have healed. It starts through her head and it spreads like a radio wave through her nervous system. I’ve done my calculations and the leading cause could be migraines...” Vision soon was in deep thought, trying to recalculate just to make sure what he was about to say was correct. “...but it doesn’t make sense.” 

Wanda tilted her head. Processing this information was hard seeing as at her darkest moments, she wanted nothing but Y/n to be hurt. She deserved it for all the pain she caused her to go through. But hearing it now? That was a different story. It was like an internal conflict was going through her. Should she even care about Y/n’s health? “What doesn’t make sense?” Vision looked hard into Wanda’s eyes as he said, “Migraines shouldn’t cause her heart to stop multiple times.” 

Wanda stared at Vision, processing the information that the love of her life is practically dying. “A-are you sure?” Vision slowly nodded. “However, after some calculations, I do believe she will be okay. She only needs a good source of food for her healing regeneration to fully heal this.” Wanda relaxed at Vision’s words. Although she has been through immense pain through these past couple months, having Y/n gone from her life like that would hurt more than anything. 

Before Vision could continue his explanation, F.R.I.D.A.Y stated, “Emergency alert. All available Avengers please head to the quinjet per the request of Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers.” Quickly, the two headed to the plane as the important part of Vision’s explanation was missed. Little did Wanda know, Y/n would not heal any time soon. 

The trio arrived on the quinjet and wasted no time trying to figure out the mission that was ahead of them. There was a serious feel in the atmosphere sensing that this had to be bad. There was no way that it couldn’t have been. Because if it wasn’t, they certainly wouldn’t have invited Y/n to this mission. 

Lately, the girl has been assigned to only solo missions. Y/n couldn’t quite remember the last time that she was on a mission with any team member nevermind the fact with the whole team. 

“Backup is needed immediately after touch down. Vision and Wanda, meet up with Steve and Sam at the Northeast corridor. Y/n, you are assigned to the entrance,” Tony stated through the intercom. 

The feeling in Y/n’s stomach worsened. Not only was she hungry and sleep deprived, she didn’t also have a partner with her. It also didn’t help the fact that the flashes have gotten worse. Y/n couldn’t help but pray for a miracle. After all, they were dealing with the very people Y/n hated - Hydra. 

Y/n couldn’t quite tell when things on the mission got to shit. Maybe it was the fact that as soon as they touched down and went to their assigned positions, Y/n received a massive swarm of Hydra agents. It didn’t help that her health regeneration was not at its peak or these agents actually were decently trained. Or was it during the third wave, that was currently happening, where Y/n tested the limits of her body. 

Seeing the onslaught of agents coming her way, Y/n decided it was time to test out her new ability. She rapidly swung her right arm, building momentum as the fire within her right side blazed. As soon as the enemies were close, she released a fire tornado in their path. It had managed to take out at least half of the wave, but more and more kept coming. 

Pressing her comms, Y/n said, “Can someone send back up my way?! There’s too many for me to handle.” Y/n kicked back the agent that was about to stab her in the back, but was too distracted to the point a different agent was able to cut her leg. “Fuck.” 

Y/n quickly released an ice wall that at first glance, appeared to be the same height as the Great Wall of China. She hoped the barrier would give her enough time for her backup to appear. Focusing all her energy on her fireside, Y/n aimed at any agent near her, using her arm as a flamethrower. 

However, worry immediately grew when no one had responded to her call within a couple minutes. Before she could request again, Nat had spoken bitterly in the comms, “On my way.” Sighing in relief, Y/n continued to fight off the agents the best she could. 

But no matter how hard she tried to buy herself time, it seemed that Natasha was taking forever to come. It had gotten to the point that multiple lashes already appeared. Her healing regeneration couldn’t keep up at all. Not only that, but her body was either giving up from exhaustion or blood loss. It was only during the last couple agents when Natasha had shown up and quickly killed the remainder. 

Y/n glanced at the assassin and noticed the lack of any injuries on her and it was as if she barely broke a sweat. “What happened? I almost got killed.” 

Natasha glared at Y/n as she responded with, “I helped Bucky and Rhodey on the way, they needed it.” Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat knowing the redhead in front of her had practically lied. If backup was needed, it was always voiced through comms. 

Even if Y/n had wanted to confront Natasha about it, she couldn’t. Natasha had already left to head to the quinjet. Y/n simply limped a couple feet from her. When Y/n arrived, it seemed that everyone else was already prepared for take off. Feeling ever more guilty, Y/n simply sat at the closet seat to the entrance that was away from the team. But something inside her broke even more noticing the lack of any questions or concerns from the team in regards to her injuries. 

Not even bothering to buckle up, Y/n sulked in her thoughts when she realized, “Why doesn’t anyone care about me?” 

Tag List: @halobaby​ @arelyitsherec8​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ @cristin-rjd​ @madamevirgo​ @trikruismybitch​ @paradiselost916​ @mmmmokdok​ @morbid-gaymer​ @dailyavengering​ @itsnottilly​ @helloalycia​ @randomshyperson​ @tomy5girls​ @daenerys713​ @ensorcellme​ @lezzzbehonesthere​ @imagine-reblog​ @sighsam​ 

[clonecaptains]

Get a Room

a santiago ‘pope’ garcia x reader fic

word count: 4.7k

rating: m - for smut, and semi-public sex (there’s others in the room - asleep)

summary: based on this ask from @woakiees​ - you’re on a trip with Santi, Frankie, Benny and Will - and you stop for the night at a motel. There’s only one room left, and you share a bed with Santi. 

a/n: i spent yesterday afternoon crying cuz of my writers block and then THIS HAPPENED????? feedback is much appreciated~!

tagging: @pascalispedro​, @tintinwrites​, @damndamer0n​, @huliabitch​, @mandoplease​, @darksideofclarke​, @yougottakeeponkeepinon​, @mylifeliterally​, @agentpike​, @pascalplease​

Get a Room

You’re not sure how you got into this position. It all happened so fast. One minute you’re at one of Benny’s fights with the boys and now Santi has you pinned to the mattress. His hand clapped over your mouth, his length ramming into your heat – all while the other boys sleep in the same shitty motel room.

How did this happen?

Maybe it was the sharp smell of Santi’s cologne in your nose for 6 hours in Frankie’s truck.

Maybe it was the way Santi’s denim covered knee grazed against yours all evening during the fight.

Maybe it was the way his hand was on your lower back guiding you out through the crowd when someone spilled their beer on you.

Or maybe, maybe it’s the way you’ve been in love with Santi for years and every time he’s near you, your heart threatens to burst right out of your chest.

When your friend Will sends you a text that morning about Benny’s fight, you almost don’t want to go. You’re not in any mood to see Benny get the shit beaten out of him again. But then that second text comes in, that Pope is going to come. Your heart leaps in your throat and you answer back immediately. Will is too kind to pester you about it, but he knows about your crush. He’s kept it secret.

You have about 15 minutes to calm yourself before the boys come to pick you up. You watch like a hawk out your window and feel your stomach lurch when you see Frankie’s truck pull into the driveway. You step outside in a hurry, your hand trembling a little as you lock your front door.

This fight is 6 hours away. That’s at least 12 hours with Pope in a confined space guaranteed. Not counting the time spent at the fight.

When you reach the truck, the front passenger door opens, and Santi pops out with a smile on his face.

“Hey honey,” he grins and greets you with a kiss to your cheek. He opens the back-seat door and climbs inside, letting you sit up front. You fight the heat crawling up your neck and hope no one notices. Frankie nods a hello, and he backs the truck out of the driveway. He sees your blush, but he doesn’t say a word. His sunglasses hide the glint in his eyes.

Upon Benny’s request his playlist plays over the truck stereo system. It’s to help get him in the zone. It’s a little too hard rock for your tastes, but the occasional classic rock song comes on that you hum a long to or at least recognize. Still, it’s not exactly the atmosphere you were hoping for.

It doesn’t give you much time to talk to Santi.

There is conversation, it’s light chit chat. Benny is in the backseat, getting in the zone so he refrains from the conversations. It’s left to the four of you, but really you just do a lot of listening.

Santi’s cologne is so sharp in your nose. The drive is long and after a while it’s all you can focus on. It’s like a drug, a toxin in the air. Your lungs felt tight and your heart beats just a little bit faster. You start to think about what it must be like to smell it on his skin, with your nose pressed to his neck.

You know he’s warm, his touch is warm. You’ve been friends with him for years. Run into him at weekend barbecues and even the grocery store from time to time. He’s come to your birthday party the last three years in a row. He’s on your Christmas card list. His number is in your phone, but you never call him.

But you’re familiar enough that he can greet you with an innocent kiss to your cheek. It only makes you ache more.

Feeling hot, you angle the AC vent on your right to blow on you. Heat is beginning to build up on your collarbone. You’re already wearing shorts and a t-shirt but it’s too much, the heat of Santi behind you is burning through the seat.

He grabs the back of your seat once so he can shift around, the long drive cramping his legs. When you feel the seat shift behind you, your body tenses a little. His touch so close.

It’s stifling even when you have the air blasting on your face.

It gets worse when he leans forward, his voice in your ear behind you.

“Hey honey, can you angle the air back here? It’s a little warm.”

You lean forward and angle it, he thanks you with a smile and for some reason you panic. As if he knows something.

What could he possibly know? Could he deduce that it’s him that’s got you all sweaty, so you angled the air towards you?

It only adds to your suspicion when Frankie turns to look at you for a beat.

Shit.

They know something you don’t.

Maybe you’re just paranoid.

What could be so bad though? If Santi found out about your crush? It’s not like he would make fun of you. The only person in that truck that would make fun would be Benny, but he’s too in the zone right now to notice or care.

Santi has been nothing but sweet to you ever since you’ve known him. And maybe you want a little more than sweet. Maybe you want him to dig his fingers in your hips and take you apart with his cock and put you back together again with his gentle touch.

Maybe if he finds out then it could end well for you? If he turns you down though, you don’t know if you could ever face him again. That’s why you have to keep it a secret.

The heat’s only gotten worse now that it’s not blowing directly on you. How can you clench your thighs together without Frankie seeing? How can you breathe when Santi’s cologne is still so strong even after a few hours?

Your relief comes when the MMA arena is a few minutes away. Your long drive finally ending.

You’re not interested in this fight in the least, but if you can find a way to sit by Santi then it’ll make it worth your while.

It’s a tournament, and you’ll have to watch several matches throughout the day.

When you walk in, Santi and Frankie are with you. Will and Benny separate to go to the locker room. Before he parts with you, Will hands Santi your ticket. Frankie is buying a beer, and Santi’s hand touches your shoulder, directing you through the rowdy crowd to the ticket booth.

Finally, you have your moment alone with Santi. You’re not about to tell him you’re in love with him HERE, but you like being near him.

You make friendly chit chat when you find your seats.

“End or middle?” Santi asks when you reach your spot.

“Middle,” you tell him, and he steps in first. You follow behind, and that leaves Frankie to sit on the very end.

Frankie joins you in a few moments, beer in hand. He takes a seat with a sigh, then takes a sip of his beer.

“Think Benny’ll win this thing?” Frankie asks.

“He could, if he moves his feet,” Santi observes.

You just shrug, you’re not here for Benny.

Santi’s denim clad knee brushing against your skin reminds you why you’re here. His presence is so loud. In a room full of screaming spectators, Santi is the loudest in your mind. In a room full of the stink of sweat, smell of popcorn and beer, and the rubber of a gym floor – that cologne is what’s filling your nose.

“You smell nice ,” you blurt out suddenly in the middle of a match. Frankie and Santi’s eyes both fixed on the fight both turn to look at you.

“Thank you,” Santi smiles.

“Who said she was talking to you?” Frankie scoffs.

“Because man, all you put on this morning was deodorant,” Santi snickers and you laugh too.

“Thank you,” Santi says again, “I put on a little extra because I don’t wanna smell Benny’s sweat all the way home tonight.”

That’s only a reminder that this day will end and who knows when you’ll see Santi again for this amount of time. You have him right here and you can’t think of a single word to say.

You watch the fights, but you’re not invested. It’s then you get a bright idea.

“Santi?”

“What’s up, honey?” he turns to face you. The crowd “OOO’s” at something that just happened on the floor, but Santi doesn’t turn his head from you.

“Can you explain some of the rules? I’m trying to follow.”

“Of course!” he leans towards you a little, his shoulder touching yours. He’s closer so you can hear him over the roar of the crowd.

He tells you what to watch for and different rules. He gives you technical terms but explains them. He never once treats you like you’re stupid, and when he forgets a rule, he asks Frankie. Frankie always knows and he never tears his eyes away from the fight, but he answers out of the side of his mouth.

That keeps the conversation going. By the end of the day you’re actually a little invested.

“I’m going to get some water; you want anything honey?” Santi starts to stand up.

“I’m good,” Frankie butts in.

“I’ll take a coke,” you tell Santi and he nods. You fish for your wallet, but he shakes his head ‘no.’

“I got it,” and he squeezes past you and Frankie.

The moment Santi is out of earshot, Frankie leans down to you.

“Why don’t you say something?”

You know what he means. His words hit right in your chest. And you feel dizzy.

“What would I say?”

Frankie shrugs, but you see a soft smile on his face. You sit in silence then. Your heart pounding in your chest. It’s as if you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether or not to jump.

“How long have you known?” you ask, breaking the silence. You feel horrified. He’ll be back in any moment.

“I had a guess, but today was it was confirmed.”  

“Does he know?” You feel sick.

That’s right about the time Santi shows back up with your coke and his bottled water. He sits down with a sigh and hands you your drink. You can’t help but notice the brush of his fingers against your own.

Frankie gives you a look and you elbow him in the ribs.

Santi almost chokes on his water with a laugh, “What was that for? I mean I always wanna elbow Fish.”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Mhmm,” Santi shakes his head with a laugh.

You’re glad you asked Santi for that coke, you need the caffeine because the fights are running later than expected. And the crowd is extra rowdy as it nears the end.

There’s a few left to go, and Benny is still in it.

It’s a crucial moment in the match, and the crowd jumps to their feet. When they do, the person behind you spills their beer all over your back. Your now soaked t-shirt clings to your skin and you gasp. The smell of it is all over you, even soaked into the back of your denim shorts.

You look horrified, and Santi is quick to get you out of there when he sees the look in your eyes.

You’re dripping with it, it’s even in your hair. But sweet Santi, he cautiously puts his hand on your lower back, not caring if his hand gets wet. You can feel the heat of his fingers through your shirt.

“Here,” Santi leads you to a merchandise booth. He fishes out his wallet and starts to buy you an MMA shirt.

“Santi, no. They’re like $45!”

“Honey, you can’t wear a beer-soaked shirt all night.”

He hands the vendor the cash and he hands Santi the shirt which he then hands to you.

“The bathrooms are this way,” he motions for you.

“Thank you,” you tell him and bravely lean up to kiss his stubbly cheek. You grasp the shirt in your hand, as if it’s a precious gift. It is though, it’s a token of care. Even if it’s only a kind gesture as a friend, you cherish it.

You can hear the noises from the match in the distance, the audience growing loud. It must be over.

You peel your soaked shirt from your skin and do your best to dry off your back before putting on the new shirt. It still sticks to you, and you grimace at the sensation.

Santi is waiting patiently for you outside; you spot him among the crowd pouring out of the arena. The fight is definitely over.

Frankie is close behind, your purse in his hands.

“I almost forgot that!” you gasp taking it from him. You thank him and his eyes are kind.

“Benny won!” Santi tells you. “He did what I told him to!”

“I don’t believe it!” you laugh. You’re glad he won; he’ll be in a better mood on the way home.

“Finally,” Frankie chuckles. “We’re gonna stay at a motel tonight though, I’m not driving six hours this late.” He could do it and he has before. But he’s not interested in doing it tonight.

It seems everyone else had this idea because motels in the area all have no vacancy.

It’s 1am when you see the motel with the flashing vacancy sign. Frankie parks and you all pile out of the truck.

“Only one room?” Frankie wipes his hand over his face.

“We’ll take it,” Will interjects. “It’ll be fine.” He shoots you a look and you want to shrink back into the ugly couch in the motel lobby office.

Santi swipes the room key while Will pays the fee.

The motel room is small, as expected. There are two queen beds, a table, and a small bathroom.

Benny calls dibs on first shower, and Frankie collapses on one of the beds. He falls asleep the instant his body hits the mattress. His baseball cap falls off his head onto the floor from the roughness of his fall.

Santi sits down on the other bed and starts to take off his shoes. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and tosses it and his keys and wallet to the small bedside table next to the old motel phone.

Will sits down at the table, doing the same thing Santi is doing.

And you, you stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do.

“Where am I going to sleep?” you ask, the elephant in the room.

“Wherever you want, honey,” Santi looks up with a soft smile. Damn him and that pet name. it gets you every time.

“I’ll go see if they have a cot,” Will volunteers and steps out.

“Thank you again for the shirt,” you tell Santi, tugging on it a little, it’s still sticking to your back.

He notices, and you see a small frown on his face. He makes a move you don’t expect, and he pulls off his dark blue t-shirt, leaving him shirtless. You can’t help the surprise that comes across your face. His tan chest glows in the dim motel light. There’s a chain around his neck and it glints in the light too. Your mouth waters and you have a need to touch him.

“Here,” he stands and hands you his shirt. “It’s better than a beer stained one for you to sleep in.”

“Thank you,” is all you can manage to say, and you know Santi can see the obvious flustered look on your face. His intention wasn’t to make you uncomfortable, and you know that.

“Whoa!” Benny shouts when he steps out of the bathroom. He’s the only one with a change of clothes, his gym bag draped over his shoulder. “What’s going on here?” he laughs seeing a shirtless Santi.

“Her shirt has beer on it,” Santi replies and he sits back down on the bed. Frankie wakes with a grunt and tells Benny to fuck off for being so loud.

You duck into the bathroom, taking your opportunity to get a moment to breathe from seeing a shirtless Santi.  

“Why do you call her that?” you can hear Benny muffled through the bathroom door.

“What?” Santi asks.

“You call her ‘honey’ all the fuckin’ time.”

You don’t hear Santi’s reply and it makes your head spin. What did he say??

You clutch onto his shirt in your hands and you bring it to your nose. The smell of his cologne is so strong in the soft fabric. You breathe deeply, the thrill running down to your toes.

You put it on the counter and turn on the shower. You drape your beer-soaked clothes over the edge of the tub.

Stepping inside, you feel another thrill at being so naked and Santi is right outside the door. If it was only him in the room, you wonder if you might be bold and drop your towel in front of him.

But then you scoff at yourself, you could barely handle hearing him speak in the car ride over.

The motel shower is shitty, like everything else in the room. But at least the water is hot. You use every ounce of the little shampoo and conditioner and body wash to get the smell of beer out of your hair and skin.

While you wash your hair, your mind wanders to Santi again. There’s an ache between your thighs that will never be satisfied. Not unless you get up the courage to tell him how you feel, see where that gets you.

You have a mind to get yourself off real quick, but the motel water runs cold. This place is terrible.

You step out to dry off when you run into your next problem. You reach for Santi’s shirt to put it on, and stop – how bold are you? Do you dare not wear a bra under his shirt? There’s no way you’ll sleep comfortably with your underwire digging into your skin.

You’re already going to be bare legged, your shorts are covered in beer and drying.

Your towel in hand, you ultimately decide no bra. You’ll just make a dash for whichever bed you’re sleeping in and hope no one sees.

When you open the bathroom door, the lights in the room are off. There’s at least two men snoring. As your eyes adjust you see Benny is on the roll out cot.

“Over here,” you hear Santi whisper. You find your way over to that bed and without thinking, you climb right in.

Panic floods your veins. You’re in the same bed as Santiago Fucking Garcia. You’re wearing his shirt, no bra, and no pants. If you move just a small fraction, your hips will collide with his.

You face away from him and your nerves has you clutching that scratchy motel towel to your chest.

“Hey,” he whispers, he’s so close. “It’s ok.” You visibly relax at his words, and he seems to be content with that. The bed shifts as he gets comfortable, and you lay there, eyes wide open.

You’re closest to the bedside table and you watch the glaring red digital clock for at least 30 minutes. Everyone is asleep but you can’t. Not when the man of your dreams is next to you and all you want to do is touch him. Tell him you love him.

Maybe he wouldn’t be opposed to you cuddling into him.

You roll over, slowly, and you come face to face with him. His eyes are very much open, and his smile is soft. It’s so dark in the room, but you can see enough.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispers.

You shake your head ‘no.’

“C’mere,” he whispers and puts his hand on your hip. He pulls you close, and you let him. You bury your nose into his chest and get a good strong whiff of that cologne. “I lied,” you hear him whisper.

“About what?” you whisper back.

“I said I wore this cologne to cover up Benny’s sweat. I wore it for you.”

“I lied too. I didn’t care about the matches; I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“So, what are we going to do about that huh?”

It takes a moment for your brain to come back online when he starts kissing you. The grit of his stubble scratches your chin. His soft lips brush against yours and his tongue finds its way into your mouth. Your body is putty in his hands, and you let him mold you how he wants.

Before you know it, you’re on your back. A wandering hand dips into your arousal-soaked panties and he toys with your clit. You whine once, and he claps his other hand over your mouth. It’s all you can do not to groan loudly. All of your senses are on fire.

You taste the salt of his skin on his palm over your lips. You hear your own heartbeat pounding at the thrill of it all. The man of your dreams is teasing your sex, all while you’re in a room full of sleeping friends. Your eyes are closed tight, just enjoying the feeling – you crack them open every once in a while, just to make sure what’s happening is real. You can barely make out Santi in the dark. His cologne and musk are strong in your nose. And you feel, oh do you feel. You feel it all. The pressure of his hand on your mouth keeping you quiet. His minty breath fanning against your face. His hard body on top of yours. The band of his watch digging into your skin. His fingers about to bring you to orgasm. His hardening length digging into your thigh.

His finger moves faster and faster, and you’re almost to the edge when one of the boy’s snores stop. Santi freezes, his finger pressed to your clit, you know he can feel your pulse there. But when whoever it was starts snoring again, Santi resumes at his rapid pace.

You shut your eyes and try your best not to whine when you come. You wish you were alone with him; you want him to hear how he makes you feel.

He pries his hand away from your mouth, so he can replace with his lips. You squeak in his mouth when you feel his hands pull your panties down.

“Do you want this?” he whispers on your lips.

You nod frantically YES. You could easily be caught, but you’d rather die then tell him no.

In a fraction of a second, his boxers are off and he’s slotting himself between your legs.

He claps his hand over your mouth again when you whine, the feeling of his tip against your entrance is too much. The blunt snag of him slowing pushing inside is more than you can take, and you arch your body up to meet his. He bites his own lip when he’s fully settled inside your welcome heat.

You can feel his heart beating against your chest, or is that yours?

Santi pulls out, and thrusts back in – it’s all you can do not to shout. The bed creaks, and you feel heat in your face. The reality of this is finally catching up with you.

Santi’s hips snap, and his thrusts are precise and unrelenting. The bed groans with his movement, and you wish you could groan. Instead you try and breathe through your nose and tears pour out of your eyes at how good he feels.

Your hands are everywhere, in his hair, on his back. You’re sure you’ve left marks on his skin from your nails scratching as he fills you up to the brim.

You can’t be bothered by the unforgiving squeak of the motel bed now. Not when you’re so close. His hand is in between your bodies toying with your clit again and that’s when you lose it. You pulse around him, hard. Your lungs are on fire and your heart is pounding so harshly against your ribcage.

It’s then his hand falls from your mouth. His face buries in the crook of your neck, his groans muffled as he spills inside of you.

He’s about to pull out when there’s a loud thump. Frankie throws a pillow at Santi, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Fuck’s sake, Pope,” Frankie mumbles.

“SSHH Fish!” Benny grunts.

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles and Santi snickers quietly. You’re feeling too good to be embarrassed.

“It’s gonna be an awkward six hours tomorrow,” Santi whispers with a laugh when he pulls away. He grabs the towel you’d had with you to clean up the slick between your thighs.

The next thing you remember is waking up hearing a loud whistle from Benny. You open your eyes to see Benny standing at the foot of the bed, your panties dangling from the tip of his finger. Your legs are intertwined with Santi’s, and you look around to see Frankie and Will looking at you with smirks. Thankfully, the sheets are covering your legs, and you still have on Santi’s shirt from last night.

“Pay up,” Will holds out his hand, and Frankie and Benny both sigh.

“Excuse me?” you laugh, very aware of Santi’s arms squeezing tightly around you. He’s promptly ignoring the boys and kissing your neck.

“They had a bet going,” he murmurs.

“You knew?” somehow this is more horrifying than being caught with your pants down, literally.

“Nah,” he shrugs, he nods his head toward Will pocketing the money. “If I knew then I’d be in on it.” He laughs and you shove his chest.

“Benny,” you stick out you hand, “if you would be so kind.”

He laughs and tosses you your underwear. You put them on under the covers, then head towards the bathroom. No sense in hiding now.

Santi is quick on your heels as he pulls on his boxers. His hand comes to stop the door from closing behind you, and he steps inside the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

You hear groans from the boys outside.

“No time for round two Pope, let’s go!” Benny bangs on the door with a laugh.

Santi only smiles and leans in for a kiss, which you gratefully accept.

“I need my shirt back,” he grins tugging on the hem of it. You let him peel it off of you, and his hands go right for your breasts. In the heat of the moment last night he didn’t get to explore this part of you. He didn’t get to do much exploring at all.

His big hands squeeze and bounce your breasts and his thumbs toy with your nipples a little.

“Tonight, honey,” he leans in to kiss your temple, “I wanna take you out for a real date yeah?”

You nod and giggle again when you hear Frankie shout in Spanish at Pope to get ready.

He puts on his shirt and he leaves you to finish getting dressed. Your shirt from last night is still damp. The new shirt you got is what you’ll wear. Your shorts are dry enough but it’s all you’ve got.

“I am never taking a trip with you two again,” Frankie smacks Pope on the back and he winces.

“Oh shit!” Benny laughs. “She scratched you, up didn’t she?!”

Santi only grins as he pulls on his jeans. He offers you his hand when you come out of the bathroom. He pulls you in for another kiss and you can’t help but smile.

Will gets the room key, and Frankie does a sweep to make sure no one forgot anything.

“You two,” Frankie motions at you and Santi as you walk out of the motel, “are sitting in the backseat. And if I hear one peep so help me…”

“You’ll what?” Santi laughs, “throw another pillow at me?”

Frankie mumbles something in Spanish and shoves Santi towards the truck. Santi opens the doors and lets you climb in first. He chases behind you, his hands tickling your sides as you sit down in the back.

You do kiss him a little on the way home, but it doesn’t take long before you fall asleep on Santi’s shoulder.

You didn’t get much sleep last night.

And you doubt you will tonight either.  

[senju-sekhmet]

The Leash (Part 12, Fin.)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death, angst with a happy ending ~8600 words (this chapter, finished work: 83.600) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7; Part 8; Part 9; Part 10; Part 11

Read on AO3!

Final chapter! To all the brave souls that kept up with this fic until now: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! <3 Disclaimer below, as always!

DISCLAIMER! My super self-indulgent work comes to an end! I hope this makes up a bit for all the angst that happened and - stick around until the end for more notes from silly me <3

_________

The burn had faded.

Abruptly as ever, and it was followed by nightmares that you knew well. Nightmares whose intensity paled in comparison to being burning alive, but nonetheless nightmares they were. They also passed, and back you were in nothingness. Drifting under the surface that you couldn’t break through.

You had not died, had you? They had kept you alive. They still were. It must’ve been Hashirama. Maybe Tobirama had been there, too. 

It was so tiring to think of all this.

The darkness began to stretch. You still were suspended in it, held down - bound somehow - but the nightmares didn’t return. Instead a different kind of sensation set in: itches. Everywhere. Inside, outside - wherever that was, anymore. A headache, maybe? You felt… warm. It became uncomfortable quickly, but nowhere near the sensation of withdrawal - which might be because alongside all this came numbness. As though someone had cut the chains of suspension, lowered you down and put a weighted blanket over you. It still was confining, but in a way also a shallow repose.

You were too frightful to trust it.

You didn’t know what was happening anymore.

You just wanted to rest, but the itch and the aches everywhere were keeping you from it. How annoying.

 ______

His heart beat achingly and there was a tightness in his chest that felt awfully familiar. The only reason he wasn't being crushed again by heartache again was his brother tending to you.

It had been twelve hours since Tobirama and his brother had literally pushed you off of the verge of death. Now, it was time to pay the price for keeping your heart beating and your lungs breathing.

Violent shivers ran through your body, the sheets were drenched from sweat. Hashirama was inspecting ink on the seals that kept supporting you - ensured your heart beat strongly, upped the blood pressure, sustained your organs more than your body would right now. Wordlessly, Tobirama handed him new drenched parchments to replace the dried up ones at the centers of the seals that released the medication they each had been soaked in.

His hand trembled slightly. "The severity-"

Hashirama cut him short firmly. "Her condition is critical, but stable. All she needs now is time." His brother gazed up at him. “You should rest more, Tobirama.”

His scarlet eyes glared at him, lifting from your pitiful form only momentarily. “I will once Y/n is better.”

It wasn't the first time Tobirama had spoken up. When the true brunt of the overload had started to hit you initially, he nearly panicked - what little peace of mind he had found combusted in an instant and his concern for had him back in a vice grip. His brother on the other hand had not been impressed; he had known it would come to this and his confidence alone had reassured him. Time and again he had told Tobirama it was going to be fine.

All it needed was time.

The man didn’t question his brother, of course - but it wouldn’t easily quench his worries, either. Not when you were lying here, trembling, feverish - whimpering. And he - helpless to do anything but watch. Like before.

He was tired of seeing you teetering on the edge of death with no means of pulling you back. He didn't want to wait anymore for your recovery, he wanted things to start becoming better now. He was tired of being helpless.

He'd spent every waking second by your side until he knew you were well again.

 ______

More time passed.

Possibly. The blanket didn’t lift. The nightmares - the nightmares didn’t return, either. That surprised you. The circle… the circle was broken, somehow.

Was this death then, after all?

The itch had faded too, slowly - the uncomfortably warm sensation, the aches - it all went away. You were your sweet nothingness, far away from all you had endured, your horrible memories.

No pain.

You could stay here comfortably. If this was death, then you were fine with it. Though you felt one ache still - Tobirama. 

He would never forgive himself. If only you could tell him, one last time - that you were alright, that he gave his all. That you loved him and would do so forever.

That sorrow haunted your bliss. And it wouldn’t fade. Quite the contrary - it became stronger and stronger. The stronger it became, the more sensations and thoughts broke through. At first, your mind began to shake off the dark stupor that held it captive until now. Your thoughts became clearer. The process of all you went through - the lack of nightmares now, the breaking of the agonizing routine that previously had governed your life cruelly - it could, should mean one thing. But you didn’t dare to delve into the thought more. Instead, you focused on the sensations that you picked up. Presences. You didn’t feel alone in your darkness anymore. Someone was watching you. You knew them well. Countless times, you’ve traced over his chakra network gently as an inward embrace too tender to put into words.

Tobirama.

He must be doing the same. Occasionally, there was another presence you could identify too, after your mind cleared up more: Hashirama’s. 

It made you reel - with excitement. It must mean one thing?

And yet no matter how much you wanted to reach out - you didn’t exactly know how. It wasn’t like you were asleep. Either they put you into this state - or maybe you were too weak? - but every time you tried to shake off the nothingness that had become your comfortable cocoon, you ended up exhausting yourself to a point your mind started to drift away again. Maybe not yet.

You kept on digging your way out bit by bit, every time you felt able to. Senses were returning. At first, there was touch. Perception of yourself - not in the abstract sense, but in an acute way. Your legs, your arms. Your chest. The beating of your heart. Your hand being touched, Tobirama’s chakra warmly hailing and covering your network. At first you simply basked in that sensation. You wanted to return the gesture, but it wasn’t possible - that frightened you, but you didn’t question it. Yet. You just continued to work your way out of this. Every now and then, someone would grasp your jaw to pour a liquid in - the leash, you realised. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t resist it. After touch came hearing. There wasn’t much, really. The birds chirping outside. Conversations between Tobirama and his brother, though you were too tired to follow them, really.

Finally - finally came your eyes. When you opened your eyes again for the first time in who knew how long, your lids felt as heavy as leaden blankets. You almost wanted to close them again directly, figuring the endeavour was just too tiresome.

If it wasn’t for the face by the side of your bed.

His scarlet eyes lit up in a rare streak of excitement. Excitement you could identify as such, at the very least. He suddenly was closer - you realised he must’ve gotten up from his chair to sit by your side - you felt a warm sensation on your hand. His was on it - and already, his chakra moved over your network. That you still had no access to. “Y/n?”, the jitter in his baritone voice was unlike him. Frightened, almost.

You forced yourself out of the proverbial swamp to give him a better look-over. As per usual, his facial markings were painted on perfectly, the black undergarment he wore when neither in battle nor in formal attire was spotless - and his white hair, spiky as per usual.

You realised then, you had thought you never would see his face again. 

His brows furrowed and his lips formed a thin, turned-down line. “Y/n?”, he inquired again, now growing more worried. Something wet rolled over your cheek. A sound - you were sobbing.

You really were here, again. With him. 

“T-Tobi…”, you croaked out, choking on your own voice. It didn’t sound like you. Raspy, blocked. Withered from not being used. More sobs followed that you had no control over.

Tobirama’s expression grew heartbreakingly sorrowful - his lower lip trembled. He nodded jerkily and extended a hand to cup your cheek gently; wipe at your tears tenderly. Carefully. As if too much pressure might harm you. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then finally - “I’m here.” The jitter was gone from his deep voice. It was reaffirming now.

“I-I t-thought…”, you took a deep breath, working through every word slowly. “... I d-d-died.” The tears continued to roll down your cheeks as Tobirama caressed you.

Now he sounded decidedly pained. Haunted. “You almost did.” In an ironic way, his brutal honesty was reassuring. This really was Tobirama in front of you. “But you’re safe now. You’ll make it, Y/n.” With the determination in his voice, there was no question about that bit.

Suddenly, you felt an urge quell within you so desperately you were overwhelmed to even get the words out properly. You’d have moved on your own to sit up, were it not for the fact just keeping your eyes open was tantamount to running uphill at full speed. But you needed this, now. Badly. Achingly. “H-hold m-me, please,” you stuttered with your rusty voice.

Tobirama hesitated momentarily and stopped his caressing motion on your cheek. He swallowed, indecision clear on his face, “I’m not sure if I should-”

“D-damn it,” you hissed, each second letting your ache for him to be nearer grow more painful. Your sobs came out as wheezing sounds now, increasingly frustrated by the moment that really just lasted so very shortly.

Suddenly his arms wrapped around your chest and his warm face buried itself in the cold crook of your neck, letting you tilt your head to smell his hair. The fresh scent of his - when was the last time you’d smelled it? Whether it was sheer force of will or actually more hidden strength, you willed one of your thin arms to rest on Tobirama’s back that was heaving intensely. He was careful to not put any weight on you except for the contact of your bodies, his chest covering yours - you knew it, but all that mattered was he was here. The sheer purity of the moment snuffing out the ache, the fear - all of the torment and agony of the past days, weeks, whatever it has been.

You simply basked in this as you closed your eyes to feel the connection not just physically, but also from his chakra.

Alive.

You made it.

Although - “My c-chakra,” you whispered questioningly, not bothering to form a full sentence nor break the silence - the serenity - longer than you had to.

Tobirama’s breath came warm against your skin. “Sealed, right now. I’ll open it up-”

He wanted to move. “No,” you replied swiftly, with as much firmness as your weak voice could muster since your body certainly wouldn’t hold anyone back. “Stay.”

Wordlessly, he settled back against you to let the moment continue. Your damn chakra could wait, it would be muted anyway, wouldn’t it?

No matter how long you wanted to stretch this all out, tiredness was beginning to grip you. And despite the fight you put up, you couldn’t help the hand slipping off of Tobirama’s back and your eyes involuntarily closing, every now and then. You hated it. You’ve been away for too long.

Tobirama felt it too, of course. Despite your protest, he pulled back slowly to resume holding your hand gingerly in his. His scarlet eyes had a reddish hue to them now, but his expression was mellow. “You should rest again, Y/n.”

You huffed. “I b-believe I r-rested enough.”

A fine smile formed on his slips and he shook his head. “Not nearly enough, I’m afraid.”

You rolled your eyes in response. “T-tell me f-first. What h-happened.” And your tone left no question about how much you wanted to know, now.

Which Tobirama recognized easily with a sigh. He took a deep breath and his gaze wandered to the ceiling, his deep voice neutral now. You knew what this meant. “We’ve almost run out of leash and it was just through a trick that I learned the final secret to this damn drug. Had it taken any longer, the withdrawal might have killed you. It is thanks to Hashirama’s expertise the chakra overload didn’t, actually.” His effort to keep his voice neutral was failing slightly as the tremble returned to it.

So that was the itch, the ache. Interesting, because for chakra overload - you really hadn’t felt much.

“We managed it the same way we did during the withdrawal,” Tobirama explained, “But the reaction became severe nonetheless. You ran an extremely high fever we had to cool down and it was only due to sedation you weren’t in pain,” his eyes had wandered back to your face, studying it cautiously now. Almost as if he was searching for evidence to the contrary.

You, on the other hand, had to muster all your left energy to process the information and most looked as though you were ready to crash at any given second.

Surprisingly, Tobirama continued his explanation, even though his gaze became more worried. “The seals stabilised you throughout the rest of the overload reaction, which was… intense.” He paused for a moment, his voice having become more quiet. Once more he had to clear his throat before he found his voice again, visibly struggling to find the words and yet speaking clearly nonetheless. “Your condition still became critical. Like said, had it been any other than Hashirama healing you during the last withdrawal, you might have died.”

You exhaled breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. Your gaze drifted over your blanketed self as the realisation hit you more and more. 

Might have died.

Close. Everything had been so close.

You’d been running from one danger into the next, life being threatened each lasting second, no break in sight.

“Y/n,” Tobirama’s firm voice became more distant as drawing breaths was becoming harder again and you forcefully swallowed down tears. “Y/n,” he called out again, less firm - a hand stroked up your forearm gently.

“I d-don’t,” you began, trying to wrenched the words out past your sobs, “It’s- d-damn it!”, either your voice got stuck or the wheezing breaths made it to hard, but you couldn’t articulate the overwhelming amount of shock that coursed through your veins. At least you thought it was that. More like a conglomerate of shock, existential pain, sorrow and ultimately, despair.

Tobirama watched helplessly as you fell apart more and more, his eyebrows furrowing in a most desperate way. Once more he reached for your face but this time, his palm stroked your hair gently as his lower lip quivered in search for better words. He didn’t have any - most likely because he felt much the same, if you were to guess. Finally though - “You’ll be fine,” his baritone voice but a whisper, “You’re safe now.” Over and over again.

“I’m here for you.”

Although the moment wasn’t filled with serenity, you needed it. You needed to hear it - over and over again, to feel him caressing you, his chakra like a warm blanket on your network. 

You survived, that was one thing.

But the danger - the danger was over.

Finally.

Exhale. Relax.

Eventually, the tears stilled and your breath evened out. Exhaustion claimed you fast now, but you wanted to keep gazing at his face. Tobirama’s expression had grown more mellow. He allowed it, for a bit longer. Eventually though - “Rest now, Y/n. I’m not - you’re not going anywhere. Allow me,” he pulled the blanket down your chest.

You still were littered with seals of course, but Tobirama’s fingers had already settled right in the middle of your chest in the center of the intricate chakra seal. A brief glow later, you could access your sluggish, muted chakra again. The comfort in that feeling alone sent you further down into drowsiness.

A pitiful sigh escaped your lips.

He covered you up with the blanket again. You thought you might have heard him again, but you couldn’t make out any words. Already, sleep had claimed you.

 ______

The next few times you woke didn’t differ much from one another; usually your strength lasted only long enough for you to open your eyes and stay awake for a short period of time before sleep claimed you again. Even so, the intervals began to increase and as they did, so did your strength to move your arms at least. It was frustrating nonetheless - lying flat on your back only was entertaining for so long. The spirit and mind weren’t as broken, worn out and torn as the rest of you, it seemed.

“I think I’ll go crazy at some point,” you huffed lowly. It was evening and the room was drenched in beautiful, reddish hues of the evening sun. “There really is nothing to do.”

Tobirama was sitting in the chair beside your bed, slowly raising up an eyebrow as his lips formed a fine smirk. “If you’re complaining again, then you must be recovering well,” he observed with dry irony, which you could only roll your eyes at. He had kept his promise - being there for you, any waking second. You suspected he knew since he administered the leash to you - and therefore he was well aware when you’d be awake again to talk to. Whenever you opened your eyes, he was there.

It was comforting. You weren’t doing well on your own, right now.

“Honestly Tobi, I want to see you bed-ridden for what -  weeks?  - you’re the one who quite literally has to be tied down before he’d actually rest, no matter what,” you scoffed back.

In ever so slight amusement, he pursed his lips more. “Don’t talk like you’re better at it, Y/n. I know for a fact were you able to, you’d be getting out and about even when you really, really should not.” The unspoken ‘like you had been’ hung in the air almost tangibly as you stared at him. You’d never hear the end of this.

“The ceiling, this room and its window can only entertain me for so long,” you pouted.

Tobirama’s smile grew more sympathetic. “It’s only going to get better now.”

You sighed. “I know,” you couldn’t prevent frustration leaking into your voice. Then, something occurred to you. “I noticed,” you began slowly, shifting ever so slightly to face him more. “I’m not… having these nightmares anymore, at all. After I’ve taken the leash. In fact…,” a frown formed on your face. “I do not dream at all. Did... did you do something to it?”, frankly you found the question pointless. You know he had to - you’d been getting the leash for an agonizingly long time now, and that definitely had changed.

His smile faded ever so slightly. “I did. During learning how to create the leash itself I realised it doesn’t require the exact psychotropic agents they tortured you with necessarily. Just something to latch onto, if you will. So right now, you’re just getting a light tranquilizer alongside the leash.”

You had to snort then. “I figured. Explains why I feel like crashing every time I’ve taken it.” He nodded solemnly in reply. Then, a smirk formed. “And why I feel so damn hazy all the time.”

Now, he rolled his eyes. “I’d consider it a positive side effect, to be honest.”

“To actually force me to rest?”

He sighed exasperatedly. “Certainly,” his tone was caustic. “Judging by how sharp your tongue has gotten again, I’m sure without the tranquilizing base solution of this leash, you’d be moving way too much right now.”

Your lips formed a kissing motion. “You love my sharp tongue, though.”

His eyebrows shot up instantly at the suggestiveness of the statement, but he couldn’t deny the chuckle that rumbled in his chest. He was too proud to answer verbally, though. Still, you were sure there was something of a reddish hue around his facial markings.

“Honestly, you should be glad I’m not making an offhanded comment about how my love keeps me tied to this ‘leash’, Tobi.”

“Y/n!”

That instantly let his deep voice rise in volume as it became quite stern. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest. Now, you were definitely sure he had gotten red.

You merely chuckled in reply that Tobirama found difficult to join in, but the proverbially ruffled feathers smoothed out again quickly. It was how you knew he was relieved - making fun at his expense without getting a smart remark in return. In a sense, you were quite glad you were able to again, really.

Besides, you didn’t exactly with the dead, dreamless sleep the tranquilising base of the leash provided. Your brain had been served excellent fodder for nightmares - drugs or no - and you didn’t want to revisit any. Was it an easy way out? Maybe, for a time.

Until you felt ready to tackle… everything again.

Fortunately though, recovery did speed up more and more. Each dose of the leash forced you to sleep it off for a handful of hours after which you felt rather groggy, and clouded of mind - under normal circumstances, you’d start to refuse to take medicine of this kind eventually, but this time you knew it truly must not be delayed. Not that Tobirama didn’t diligently make sure you always were right on time with it - at first he had to help you take it by supporting your chest, neck and head pretty much. By now, you managed to sit up straight already, which was a huge relief. A step closer to leaving this bed. Your muscles still groaned and ached from wounds you had suffered what seemed eons ago, on top of the general soreness you still felt due to damages you had taken during the withdrawal.

“Shouldn’t these have healed by now?”, you complained as you once more had settled against the headboard of the bed, letting out a low groan.

Tobirama withdrew after having helped you up there with his hands under your shoulders. He had refused to at first - you needed to  rest  still of course - but you threatened to just do it yourself if he wouldn’t. With gritted teeth he had pretty much hefted you up, under the premise you wouldn’t push yourself. The pain you felt now made him look like he was ready to yank you back down if you did so much as whimper again.

“Normally, they would have,” he explained sternly, his scarlet gaze inspecting you. “But without one’s own innate chakra reserves and your poor condition overall, it is unsurprising they did not heal well. Plus, you suffered again during the withdrawal.”

You sighed and opted to refrain from showing any more signs of pain or weakness. It made sense, of course. “Just my luck,” you muttered under your breath.

He had settled back into his chair and crossed his arms. “We will be able to start healing you again very soon, Y/n,” he supplied slowly. “We’ve already started to remove the seals that sustained you and increase your capacity to receive chakra again.”

That had been a relief - seeing the ink wiped off of your skin as a visual reminder things were, in fact, getting better. The biggest of them being the chakra seal on your chest. Not that you had been afraid of it - but as a person that naturally was very in tune with your own chakra as everyone in your clan was, it had felt… looming. The muting component of the leash was bad enough, but by now, you had gotten used to it. The fact you were in a safe environment helped a much greater deal, though. Still - “How… how’s work on the cure coming along, Tobi?”, you inquired suddenly, sheepishly, almost.

He leaned forward on the chair and exhaled a heavy breath. “Slow, but… steady.” He gazed up at your eyes with a solemn expression, neither sugarcoating the facts nor being overly harsh about it. “It’s possibly going to be as complex as the leash. But I’ll get there.” You wouldn’t question his determination. “We have time.” That probably was about the only advantage to all of this right now.

A smile formed on your lips. “Thank you.” 

You beckoned him closer with a wave of your hand which he followed hesitantly by settling down on the side of your bed and a questioning glance. Your hand snuck around the back of his neck to pull him closer to you, your fingers lacing into his short hair as his forehead rested against yours. You felt the tension in his shoulders as your free hand trailed up them to cup his face, but his eyes closed slowly and he exhaled a gruff breath. His chakra coated your network warmly already as you tried to return the notion as best you could, which wasn’t much. He simply sighed in return and allowed you to caress him for a silent moment.  

Offering a small bit of comfort when really, it was him who poured all his energy into aiding you.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips with such tenderness you felt his chakra flutter.

He swallowed before answering. “I love you too,” he coarsely answered, rough from emotion as one of his hands reached around your chest again to pull you even closer.

You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had shared an intimate moment like this - and you knew well how he felt about them in a semi public place like this one.

The fact he relatively willingly permitted it was quite saying something.

The fact he actively pulled you even closer did so even more.

Slowly your lips ghosted over his in the utmost tender motion, gasping slightly when he met them with equal softness of his own.

Just a few more moments you allowed yourself this, you wanted to keep him as close as possible right now - before pulling back ever so slightly. When he opened his eyes again, his scarlet gaze was on fire. You didn’t need words to know what he felt. Once more your thumb gently stroked his cheekbone before you leaned back against the headboard again and he withdrew, ending the chakra connection with a final warm caress over your network.

Another day later, you had shedded the last of the seals that had been sustaining you. Hashirama examined you after and was quite pleased, even. Finally, you were on your own again, in a sense. It was a freeing sensation albeit one that came with a tinge of fear. You still weren’t cured yet and had precious little time in which you didn’t sleep off Tobirama’s version of the leash. After you inquired exactly what kind of tranquilizing agent he had used, your considerations as to why your sleep was so dead and dreamless were confirmed: it didn’t just endorse rest, it muted all kinds of emotions, good and bad. It was numbing. 

You still weren’t sure how to feel about that - on the one hand, it felt too easy to escape from memories you did not want to deal with that definitely had been haunting you before the withdrawal cracked you. On the other hand, you just weren’t ready to deal with more, now. What you did know for certain was that Tobirama had put consideration in picking the tranquilizer as the base for the leash.

Like right now, when you were fighting against the haze in your mind and the heavy fog that tried to push you back into sleep. You had slept enough. You simply wanted to be awake for now. With a low groan you lifted yourself up to sit in the bed, ignoring the aches flaring in your arms, back and abdomen. Momentarily, your vision blackened, but you stabilised yourself swiftly with your arms on each side.

You must’ve pulled it off earlier, since Tobirama was not here yet - either that, or something happened. Your thoughts were too muddled to consider it more. Dazedly, you started at the window that let the morning sun in while trying to form another thought.

 _______

Tobirama’s days had settled into a routine that pretty much was dictated by your waking hours. Without death breathing down your neck and the constant feeling of a looming heart attack, there was little to put the man off, really. As expected, your recovery would be slow and arduous, but you’d make it. He’d be there for you throughout every bit of it as he promised, and he was very intent on keeping this promise. With the modification to the leash, you were resting a lot better too, which in turn improved Tobirama’s sleep. After he had administered the first dosage of the leash with the tranquilising base solution and you had drifted off, he himself had slept for a good fourteen hours.

It had been one of the hardest battles of his life.

Not that he allowed himself any complacency, though. In fact the word barely existed in his vocabulary, but especially so right now - you still needed the cure for this leash. 

Unfortunately, developing one proved to be a lot slower than copying the leash. And this was not because your life did not hang in the balance anymore - it was because Tobirama had no testing modality outside of the six prisoners whose lives, alas, still needed to be preserved carefully. And with your life saved, the necessary precautions for experimentation had risen an annoying lot. Except for Kimi, who had been tethered to Tobirama’s very own leash, he had put them all under Zenji’s leash and instructed the interrogation squad’s members on administration intervals and the likes of the drug. All he had to do was produce the thing in a large quantity, which by now had become a well-practiced process.

Zenji in particular had a slew of colorful insults ready for Tobirama, including himself, his brother, his family, his whole clan, Konoha - and yet it was with a sly smirk Tobirama’s iron grip on his jaw silenced him, wrestled his mouth open and poured the leash in.

“Now you can experience your own masterful work firsthand. It’s poetic, really,” he commented cynically, watching Zenji’s pupils dilate already.

“There’s no… cure… for the leash,” the man slurred hatefully, grunting in pain.

Tobirama’s smirk grew and he raised both eyebrows. “You made predictions about the possibility and impossibility of things before, and yet here we are Zenji,” he leaned in closer. “With your help, no less.”

The prisoner’s unfocused gaze looked for Tobirama’s arrogant face, but the psychotropic agents were overcoming him more and more. 

“Now you’ll be of equal use again.”

He didn’t stick around for the torture anymore; there was no need. What he needed were these six as outlets for his experiments on a cure. Since the muting component faded, it came down to breaking the seal of the disrupting component somehow. However there was no trace of the seal as such once the drug was ingested - only in the way the disruption was branding itself into the victim’s body. Of course Tobirama well understood how the seal as such worked, but that meant he also understood countering it was a difficult task exactly because of that. Quickly it became obvious he needed more than just to unravel the disruption’s brand; whatever achieved this needed to be woven into the cure much like the leash was created. It would need to be a key that would unlock the chains of the leash.

He was lucky to have such skill in the weaving process as such, by now.

His first experiments were rather edgy. The substances used were primitive in comparison to the leash and aggravated the prisoner’s health to such a degree in one case, Tobirama was forced to provide extended medical support. Ikuro was squinting a lot at the proceedings, although everyone understood there was no alternative.

What time he didn’t spend experimenting or in the laboratory was spent within your room - when you were awake, or at least trying to be awake. Exhaustion and the tranquilizer both sapped consciousness from you a fair deal, but as your strength returned to you slowly, so did your capacity to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a given time. It was the hugest relief - to see you becoming yourself again, truly. Your smile, your laugh, the quips you made - the smart glint in your eyes.

The way you started to refuse to rest.

Of course you had quickly guessed it was no coincidence he has used this particular tranquilizer as base for the leash. But the reason was not to keep you literally too knocked out to move about.

The scars you bore were not just physical, inward and outward. There was a lot of mental damage that Tobirama had gathered enough clues towards already before you had hatched your withdrawal plan. This substance - this substance might be an easy crutch for now, but he refused to let you carry more weight than you had to right now. It was a selfish decision he made for you, he knew that.

Since you never protested, he figured you were in silent agreement, for now.

After the last of the seals were removed from you, it was time for the next step in your recovery, which he had discussed with his brother at length already, before you’d wake regularly. Once you were stable - and had not received any chakra for quite some time - they could finally start healing you properly again. 

“It’ll be complicated,” Hashirama warned. “The withdrawal has damaged the functionality of her organs. The injuries she received during her imprisonment are not the ones I’m not worried about.”

Tobirama wasn’t, either. Those were simple in comparison. The withdrawal had wrecked you from the inside out - alongside your body’s reaction to it. He frowned. “You assume we may not heal everything?”

Hashirama clicked his tongue. “I’ve learned not to make any assumptions when it comes to this drug, to be quite honest,” he muttered in a rare streak of bleak irony.

Tobirama could only huff in response.

They’d have to give it their best. If there was anyone who could do it, it was his brother, after all.

Today was the day - after his brother’s evaluation of your state yesterday, they’d start to mend the real damage today. Both were on the way to your room. It was still early in the morning and Tobirama couldn’t deny having sound sleep at night was quite a blessing after the nightmare he and you had suffered. Even so, you should be asleep still at this time.

He opened the door to your room silently - only to find you sitting in bed already, staring out of the window. He spoke before his mind could even process the angered worry that filled him. “Y/n,” his tone firmly questioning - for now.

 _______

Your head snapped around to your new company, startled. The look on Tobirama’s face was one you knew well - he’d start scolding you any moment now with how deeply he was frowning already. Hashirama on the other hand, bright as ever - broadly smiling. How these two were brothers, you sometimes really had to wonder about.

“Tobirama, Hashirama,” you nodded, smirking. The urge to just sleep again had subsided somewhat, though your mind still was foggy. Sitting up was an exercise on its own, still, not to mention the pain you felt.

“Why are you awake already?”, Tobirama shot back instantly, rounding the bed swiftly. You’d like to think there was worry attached to the sternness of his tone. “Did something happen?”

You sighed softly and smiled. “No, don’t worry. I just didn’t want to sleep any more, that’s all. I’m much the same I was before.” You really refused to say you were fine. Someone who couldn’t sit up for longer periods of time without pain was not fine.

Tobirama stayed silent, but his scarlet gaze was inspecting you closely. You rolled your eyes and lowered yourself back onto the bed before he’d tell you to, unable to prevent a quiet groan from escaping you.

“Careful,” he stepped closer instantly as worry flashed in his eyes, but you waved him off quickly.

Hashirama cleared his throat then and stepped closer to the other side of the bed, practically beaming now. You raised an eyebrow. “We’ll start mending your injuries again today, Y/n,” he announced with no small amount of pleasure.

Your eyes widened. That would be a huge relief - literally and proverbially. However, you were hesitant to feel hopeful just yet. Frankly most of your mental power went towards processing the announcement still. “How much of them?”, you inquired, when you found you couldn’t come up with a smarter way to articulate your budding worry over the resilient hope that formed.

Tobirama answered solemnly. “You’ve not received chakra in quite a bit now, so there is some capacity to work with. But the damage you suffered was very extensive and will require multiple sessions, most likely.” His voice had become softer, though you focused on the information mostly.

“I will start with the most vital damages,” Hashirama continued, “Seeing how the wounds you received from the stone have begun healing on their own by now, albeit slow. I know they’re most painful, but we must ensure you first recover truly from inside out. Bones, muscles and skin come second.”

You had to give a snort at that, earning you a puzzled look from Hashirama and a raised eyebrow from his brother. “Apologies,” you amended quickly, “I understand. It’d just be nice to move without pain again. Or at all, and not just lie still.”

Tobirama cut in sternly, quickly. “You mustn’t, yet. Healing anything is only going to help if you don’t squander it by pushing yourself too much too fast, Y/n. You know that.” The warning in his tone was clear. And you knew he was right - one of the most basic principles of all medical jutsu - like surgical sutures, they needed time to kick in fully. 

Hashirama was more accommodating. “I can ease it somewhat, of course.”

Tobirama’s glance shot towards his brother. “It’s vital to focus on the most important injuries.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s get started.”

You couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up while you rolled up your gown. Hashirama’s warm hands gently placed themselves on your abdomen, and already you felt his chakra spreading in your network, his presence becoming more prominent. Your eyes locked with Tobirama’s who had crossed his arms again, giving you a tender smile that you returned; a different kind of warmth blossoming in your chest. Then, you let your head rest on the pillow and stared at the ceiling before closing your eyes as his brother’s work was unfolding.

Just like when Tobirama had healed you before, the procedure became something of an internal massage of all the parts of you that had been tortured, abused, beaten. Suffered under the withdrawal of the leash, withered and strained. Without your own chakra at your disposal, it was extremely difficult to trail alongside them, but frankly the thoroughly comfortable feeling that settled in was quick to make your eyelids leaden again. 

Very carefully, he first tended to your heart and lungs first - strengthening attacked tissue, mending microscopic damages and if needed, precisely cutting away whatever scars your body already had formed to let real organ matter regrow there. Whether it was your imagination or not you couldn't say, but you thought your breaths became deeper and your heartbeat slowed down into a more powerful rhythm. His attention shifted to other organs then: liver, kidney, the gut - and much in the same manner, they tended diligently to the damages. 

A stray tear of relief ran down your cheek as shivers ran up and down your spine. 

Finally came the injuries inflicted by the torture - process here was more difficult. The gentle, healing massage took on a more forceful note, as though he had to work out kinks in stiff muscle that had not been used much. Almost pinching here and there when even your tardish chakra felt the tear of inferior scar tissue that had formed due to a lack of attention and use. You felt the old wounds warm up ever so slightly, promoting blood flow as well as making the matter more receptive to his care, although the time he spent healing here was notably shorter compared to what they had done before.

It was uncomfortable - not the smooth procedure from before but the quite literal rebuild of what you knew was broken and had been healed broken. Every now and then you’d huff or grunt when the unpleasant sensation bordered pain, but you kept yourself in check - Tobirama was still watching, and you didn’t want him to worry again.

Eventually, Hashirama withdrew as quietly as he’d begun.

You had difficulty opening your eyes again. All of you felt warm now, refreshed - revitalised. The sleep that wanted to overcome you now wasn't the heavy exhaustion you permanently felt, it was pure comfort. It was the same feeling you had after visiting a hot spring after a day of training. The feeling of the sun on your skin on a rare lazy day, a peaceful day.

Peaceful. That was how you felt.

Hashirama was beaming at you, but Tobirama was wearing a slight frown again. “Are you alright?” - the discomfort hadn’t escaped his notice, of course.

You cleared your throat, swallowing down a hoarse lump. “Yeah,” nodding slowly. “Better than before,” you dared a brave smile.

His frown deepened, but he didn’t comment further. In the end, this was necessary - like many other things had been - and so, he’d accept it. He - you - had no other choice.

Hashirama cleared his throat. "I managed to heal quite a bit, more than I expected, in fact. Of course there still is work to be done, but the damages the withdrawal created I believe I will be able to manage with time and patience.” He gave you an appreciative nod. “You're a tough woman." He chuckled brightly.

Tobirama’s mien grew more tender as his frown smoothed out, a light smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

It was difficult not to get intoxicated by his optimism, especially when you felt the way you did now. "Thank you."

"The next session will have to wait since I used an extensive amount of chakra now. And as for the injuries you suffered…" Hashirama knit his brows. "... those will require more work. Your body started to mend those already. Unfortunately in inferior ways, due to your poor condition."

You gave an awkward shrug, as much as that was possible in bed. "I felt that, yeah." 

Tobirama's frown returned somewhat again, but he didn't comment. 

Before either of them spoke again, you did - with an idea that had hit you just this moment. Something that jolted through your system more uncomfortably than the hope had done before, despite being much the same feeling. "So, since I need to rest so much now…", you gave Tobirama a meaningful gaze he held entirely neutrally, "... couldn't I actually -" You paused. Suddenly, you felt silly, but with the expectant glances on you, you swallowed it down and continued. "Could I perhaps rest at home? I'm stable now, and this room is starting to drive me insane."

Tobirama sucked in a sharp breath through his nostrils, hands gripping the fabric of his black shirt more tightly as he spoke up promptly. "Y/n, as much as I'd like to grant you this, we must consider-"

"Absolutely. I'll stop by to help to heal you again." Hashirama cut in, grinning broadly.

Tobirama's mien turned positively furious at being blindsided by his sibling. "Anjia!"

Hashirama was unfazed. "Patients recover better in homely environments. Y/n is stable, like she said - you saw it yourself, Tobirama. Also, you can ensure even better that she rests well."

"That-", he clenched his teeth at having this argument used against him, but just a moment later, the heated fury had subsided to a smoldering kind of anger that gave his sternness a cutting edge. "She still is in poor condition and should be hospitalised. If anything changes, here is where the aid needed will be."

Hashirama held both palms up and tilted his head. You, on the other hand, were rolling your eyes and waiting for your moment to chime into this conversation. About your own damn self. "I don't see what should happen. So long as the leash is administered on time - which you have been doing - and she rests properly, she's going to get better now."

Tobirama was losing ground and worse yet, he realised this. To his own brother no less. He bared his teeth slightly. "I can't be there every moment in case she needs help. And I won't allow just anyone into our house."

Now was your chance. "Actually, you can." Tobirama's head snapped to you and the furious gaze bored through you. You didn't flinch though. "You can just leave a shadow clone with me. If I need help, you can teleport over. But as you know," now you raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "I'm mostly sleeping and resting."

Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose as he often would when frustrated. "Y/n…", he began slowly, but you didn't let him start.

"You're with me so much anyway. I'd feel a lot better at home. And you can work there, too. It's easier for everyone."

His expression grew more mellow and his hand dropped as his irritated mien fell. Your pleading glance did the rest. "Fine. But if anything - anything at all - happens, I'll get you back here right away. No discussion." Then he frowned again and any trace of mellowness was wiped off of his face. "The same goes for you not sticking to your bed rest."

You grinned brightly already. "Naturally." You'd find your way around once you could move more again, of course. 

Hashirama clapped his hands then cheerfully. "Right then!", he beamed at his brother who just gave a scowl in return. "I'll see you soon. Mito and I will visit, anyway. Until then," he waved, and already was on his way out before you could raise your hand to wave back.

Tobirama sighed. "Regular visits are just another downside," he stated perfectly blearily.

You chuckled. "Cheer up. We'll have a lot more privacy. And…" you paused for a moment, fumbling with the blanket draped over you. "Finally, no more lonely nights."

He turned around to you, eyebrows knitted in a sorrowful fashion that told of the shared statement more than words could. Still, "That… is correct." He stepped closer to the bedside, an utterly warm smile forming now. "It's been a forlorn and cold place without you, Y/n. I’m... beyond relieved that will change now."

With all of the comfortable peacefulness you felt from the healing procedure still, that statement alone made your eyes tear up already in a most soft way. "So am I, Tobirama."

He bent down then and reached under your haggard body with his arms; one gripping your chest tightly, the other wrapping under yours knees. Bridal-style he hefted you up easily - unsurprisingly. Even before your capture he could handle you well. Now your weight was a joke. Closely cradled against his chest, you let your head rest against him with a content sigh. His warm breath hit your face as he bent over briefly to kiss your forehead gently, making you shift your gaze to meet his. The scarlet irises were swimming with a kind of love that alone made your renewed heart pump vigorously. 

Already the world around you lurched and a moment later, you were in your bedroom. Your tired gaze found it to be exactly the same it had been before your departure on that fateful mission - one that most likely changed your life forever, you realised. Sparsely furnitured, but practical. A large bed in the middle of the room, adjourning the wall - and broad windows on two walls, overlooking your small garden. 

“Welcome home,” Tobirama whispered down to you, a slight tremor to his baritone voice. 

“I’m glad,” was all you managed before yet another pure tear rolled down your cheek.

Slowly, he walked to your side of the bed to settle you down as gently as possible. The softness of your own sheets, your own bed elicited a small groan from you and you couldn’t help but bask in the moment with a content mien. “At times, I thought I’d never be here again.”

Tobirama swallowed hard, and when you gazed up at him you saw his jaw working. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/n.” The sheer determination these words bore had the warm feeling blossoming in your chest again, but you could only nod in reply. And words might be a sob right now.

“I’ll get you different clothes.”

“No, wait,” you shook your head. He paused mid-walk, having already made for the wardrobe, to give you a questioning glance.

“Come here.” You patted his side of the bed, and nodded.

He quirked an eyebrow up. “Y/n, it’s morning.” Of course, only Tobirama Senju would object to getting into bed again just because of the time of day. 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to crash any minute now anyway, so you might as well come here now. I can change later.”

With a wondering glance still he slipped to his side of the bed, scooting closer to you as you wrestled yourself to lie on the side. Once he was close enough he assisted in pulling you over, but you weren’t done yet - your arms snuck around his chest and wordlessly, he drew you close to him in a tight embrace. You nestled your face into his chest again as he locked his arms around his, letting his head rest on yours and your legs intertwined. In this position, you could hear his slow, even heartbeat. The steady rhythm was enough to elicit a whole different kind of serenity from you that doubled the warm, comfortable tiredness you felt, but you weren’t quite done yet. Just a moment longer.

Tobirama’s hands ran soothing motions over your back. Yours did the same, feeling the tension ease out of his muscles with each passing second as your caresses drew a content rumble from him.

“Not such a bad idea, was it?”, you giggled quietly.

Tobirama huffed. “How will I get out once you’re asleep without waking you, Y/n?”, he accused playfully, but you could hear the smile from his tone alone.

“You’ll find a way. After all, it’s most important I  rest .” You jabbed playfully at his side - just about the only spot Tobirama might be the slightest bit ticklish.

He shrugged it off with a chuckle. “You are absolutely correct. I will.” He tightened the embrace somewhat more, a hand reaching up to the base of your neck to massage your scalp. “So, sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake.”

With your eyes closed now, it was a matter of seconds until sleep overtook you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

A wholesome kind of rest wrapped around you, drowning all sensations out in the comfort of Tobirama’s arms.

You were home. _________ AAAAAAND! That’s a wrap on the Leash. Let me know what you thought of it - and let me just say THANK YOU VERY VERY MUCH for reading it all! I definitely, really, REALLY loved seeing the returning likes/reblogs for all these parts - thanks a lot! That being said - IT WOULD SEEM... Tobirama hasn’t found the cure yet, has he?! Which means... yes! I’ll write a sequel - it won’t be as big as the Leash at all. Possibly an epilogue or a little miniseries dealing with the consequences of all this - but it’ll get a wrap, eventually!

But! Happy ending <33

[descendantofthesparrow]

I put a Spell on you - Harry Hook x Sanderson! Reader - Halloween special one-shot

Halloween Harry Hook x reader

basic version of outfit for reader, can be changed as wished

VVVV 

=

Halloween night, 2007, on the isle of the lost.

Young 6-year-old Harry Hook sat in the hull of the jolly roger, pouting to himself as he picked at his scarce stolen candy.

The isle never got much in the way of candy, the most they got was during the month of Halloween that the parents of Auradon threw away early for some odd reason.

Though what candy the isle got was little, and the “good stuff” was still on Auradon.

And Harry had unfortunately gotten a bad pick of candy this year, nasty fruit ropes that tasted like death, molding “coconut” chocolate candy that was too mushy to really enjoy, and watermelon looking hard candy.

The best he got was little wrapped hard pieces of candy that looked like brown barrels that had a slight spice to them.

Harry dropped the piece of candy he was holding and sighed, starting to stand and getting ready to turn in for the night after the disappointing Halloween. “jus’ like last year” Harry mumbled, brushing off his horrifically made copy of his father's jacket, he paused, something rang across his ears. “wha’ was-“

Come little children, I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come little children, the time's come to play

Here in my garden of magic.

“singing?” Harry quietly asked himself, turning towards where the voice was coming from. It seemed hypnotic or at least was supposed to be, but It had no grab to it as if it had lost its power.

But Harry's curious nature pushed him to seek the voice out. He snuck off his father's ship and followed the voice into the dark forest near pirates bay.

He ducked as he spotted an old slim woman, the one who was singing, waving her hands about and twirling.

“Winnie~” the woman stopped singing, spinning around and crossing her arms, and whining at a hidden figure “It's not working!”

“of course it's not you twit, the stupid barrier blocks our powers, we won't be getting any children tonight!” “wait!” a plump woman stepped into the mood light, her eyes glinting “I smell a child~”

“that’s just (y/n) you idiot!” the hidden figure scoffed, stepping next to the slim woman, and smacking her torso “keep your child inside sister, they will ruin our plans” “But we can use them to lure children! Maybe they can even lure a boy~”

“silence Sarah” the oldest woman scoffed, turning and walking back towards the rackety shack near a pond. “sistars!”

“coming Winnie!” the slim one called back, hiking up her dress and running after the oldest.

“But Winnie! The child!” the plump one moaned, turning her eyes right at Harry.

Harry held his breath and ducked behind a tree, freezing as he heard the woman sniff the air and continue to walk closer to his hiding spot. Wait…shit! he walked right into the Sander-

“Auntie! It's just me!” Harry's jaw dropped as a child, who seemed just around his age, popped up from behind the tree in front of him, a small smile on their face “sorry, but there's no other kids around”

The plump woman groaned and shook her head, stomping back into the shack. “little brat, fooling me”

The child watched until the door closed, slumping against the tree in relief as they looked at him “you shouldn't be here, you don’t wanna know what happens when my mom and aunts get their hands on kids” they walked over to him and pulled at the lapels of his jacket, the hood of their cloak falling as they did so.

They beamed at him “but im not gonna let anything happen to ya don’t worry……sorry I don’t know your name?” they tilted their head at him, their bright (e/c) eyes staring into his.

“H-Harry” Harry stuttered out, gasping as the child grabbed his hand and started pulling him the opposite way of the old shack the old woman were in.

“Nice ta meet ya Harry im (y/n)!” (y/n) chirped, flipping their hood back over their head and continuing to lead Harry out of the forest.

Moments later they reached the edge and (y/n) turned, grabbing Harry's arms, spinning around, and pushing him over the edge “now you have ta promise that you won't come back no matter what, and to never follow random singing” (y/n) pouted at harry, wiggling their finger in his face “it's too dangerous”

“I-um” Harry stuttered again, wringing his hands together before he stomped his foot “they aren’t even tha’ scary! I can take ‘em”

(y/n) just shook their head “doesn’t matter, they’ll eat you if they get the chance”

“e-eat me?!” Harry squeaked, taking a step back from (y/n) “wait aren’t yeh one of their kids- won't yeh eat me too?”

“no!” (y/n) shook their head defiantly, scowling at Harry “that’s just gross, eating kids, Id rather eat rotten candy” (y/n) crossed their arms and tilted their head at Harry “what you think all witches eat kids?”

“well, they-” Harry swallowed harshly “ur mums a Sanderson ain't she? She's known for tha’ “

(y/n)s shoulders dropped “well I’m not my mother” Harry felt slightly bad as (y/n) curled in on themselves, looking off.

“hey-i….thank yeh fer savin’ meh” (y/n) perked up, smiling at him.

“you’re welcome Harry, now DON’T got back into the forest on Halloween night ever again” (y/n) once more shook their finger in his face, pouting at him.

Harry nodded slowly, placing his hand on theirs and pushing their hand down “why Halloween night only?”

“because that’s when they think they are most powerful, and the only time they are brave enough to wander outside the shack….aunt Winnie makes me go out to get food and all that every other time” (y/n) explained, eyes turning to the sky and gasping.

“you have to get home! It won't be long before my aunt gets another idea to get kids, go go!” (y/n) pushed at Harry's shoulders, back towards pirate bay.

“Alright alright im goin’!” Harry yelled, shaking his head at the odd witch, he turned to start walking back towards his dad's ship when he stopped. He spun back around, watching (y/n) walk back into the forest. “wait!” (y/n) groaned and stopped, spinning around to look at him with raised brows.

“what” they snapped, glaring at him.

“will I ever see yeh again?” Harry asked, blinking in surprise as (y/n)s cheeks turned dark and they looked down at the forest floor.

“um-i-maybe…I have to go!” (y/n) turned and ran back into the forest to her home, leaving Harry at the forest edge.

=

12 years later, on Halloween night, Harry sat in his temporary room at Evie's castle, sitting on his bed while Gil and Uma sorted through their first real batch of Halloween candy.

Most of it had been leftovers from Evie's trick or treaters, but Evie had made them chaperone Dizzy, Celia, and the twins for their first Halloween.

And the younger VKs had somehow roped them into Trick or treating with them, which luckily the people of Auradon were nice enough to ignore that they were technically too old to trick or treat.

Harry could recount Evie scoffing at the “Age limit”, saying that no one is too old to trick or treat.

“Gil hand me that orange one” Uma muttered, chewing on a Butterfinger.

“The Reese's?” Gil asked, holding up the flat packaging and handing it to Uma.

“yep, thanks…Harry you good?” Uma asked, noticing Harry staring out the window.

“hm?” Harry turned back to her, his eyes drooping “ah, sorry Uma, zoned out”

“well, it has been a tiring night….I'mma head in for tonight, night boys”

“night Uma” Harry and Gil called back in chorus, Gil leaving after Uma a moment later, leaving Harry alone in his room.

Come little children, I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come little children, the time's come to play

Here in my garden of magic.

Harry perked up, he knew that song…..he definitely knew that song.

Though this time, the hypnotic power it had was present, taking hold of his mind and dragging him out of his room and out the door of Evie's castle.

Harry walked deeper into the forest surrounding Evie's castle, the voice becoming louder as he walked.

Suddenly he was grabbed, the cackling of three women echoing in his ears.

“oh, it’s a boy! Hes Handsome too~I want to play with him~!”

“later Sarah, first we must take him along with the others back to the cottage, he’ll be the first for your child, let them experience the dark art of Magic!”

“ohhh! Yes! Let em’ learn, let ‘em learn, let ‘em learn!”

Harry's vision went black, and he woke later in a chair, something invisible tying him down to it.

“wha’?” Harry muttered, pulling at his arm “where…shit” Harry tried to wriggle his wrist to draw the small switchblade in his jacket sleeve when the three Sanderson sisters walked in, holding two small children in their arms.

“ohhh hes awake!” the thin one, Sarah he guessed, gasped, clapping her hands together.

Harry let out a snarl and thrashed in his chair, the sisters gasped and reeled back. “nasty one isn’t he” the one with the odd lips, Winnie, muttered “perfect for our little imp isn’t he Mary”

“perfect Winnie” the plump one snickered, licking her lips as she separated from her sisters and dragged one of the children over a chair next to Harry, forcing the young girl down into it and snapping her fingers, silver rope wrapping around the girl's arms and legs and binding her to the chair “there we go!”

Sarah giggled and grabbed the boy she had by the scruff of his zombie costume and dragged him over to the chair on Harry's left, pushing him into the chair and binding him with the silver rope that turned invisible like Harrys.

“ohhhh (y/n)~” Harry perked up….he knew that name?

From the door on Harry's right, someone stepped out from the shadows, wearing a long dark pink jacket that tapered off at their waist, a corset type top with fishnet under top underneath it, ripped black jeans with scuffed brown boots, a belt with a pouch resting on their left hip that held two beakers resting on their left thigh.

“yes, aunt Winnie” the teen witch sighed, their hood hiding their face from Harry. Winnie grabbed an odd brown colored spell book with an eye on it and handed it to the hooded teen.

“here, finish the life potion while we go get more children, the…pirate boy is yours to do what you wish with” Winnie patted the teens head and turned “Sistars!” she stormed out of the cottage, the two witches running after their sister.

“coming Winnie!!”

The door slammed shut, the teen watching the door for a good minute before they sighed and dropped the book on the table to their right “thank hades” they tipped their head back, ruffling their (h/c) hair and blowing a raspberry “thought they’d never leave” they rushed over to a cabinet and ripped the doors open, rummaging through spices and herbs. “wormswart wormswart, where are you wormswart-ah-ha!”

They spun around, holding a jar of some sort of liquid and opening it, a hiss of silver mist rising from the bottle, they held the bottle delicately over the cauldron holding the boiling potion of life and poured a single drop of wormswart into the potion.

The potion turned a sickly brown, sputtering into the teen witches face. “ugh” they groaned, leaning back and wiping their face.

They grabbed a large spoon and mixed the potion, stirring until it turned back into a dark green. “there we go, now they can't use it” the teen muttered, looking up and locking eyes with Harry. “now to get you all out of here before they come back!”

With a wave of their hand, a silver pocket knife appeared, and they speed-walked over to Harry, cutting the invisible ropes at his hands. “im sorry about this, I tried to spell them to sleep until tomorrow at dawn but im not very good at potions other than ruining them”

“(y/n)?” Harry asked aloud, the teen stopped, slowly looking up at Harry, their still bright (e/c) eyes widening.

“Harry! What-“ they stood, leaning over Harry and shaking their finger in his face, “I told you not to follow the singing!”

Harry smirked at them and mocked bite their finger, (y/n) gasped and reeled back, pouting at him and smacking his chest. “jerk, im saving you from being eaten and yet you repay me like this?”

Harry chuckled and grabbed the knife from (y/n)s hand, cutting the rope from his legs “sorry love, couldn’t resist”

“l-love?” (y/n) stuttered, backing away from Harry and staring at him oddly.

Harry just looked at them, making their cheeks turn dark “you….you grew up” they muttered, looking away from Harry.

“heh” Harry chuckled, standing from the chair and looking to his right “we should probably get them outta here huh?”

“y-yeah” (y/n) stuttered, waving their hand and another silver knife appeared, walking over to the boy while Harry kneeled next to the girl and started to cut them free. “I’ll need to break the spell my mom put on them before we take them back, otherwise they’ll get their hands on them again.”

Harry nodded, picking up the girl dressed like a princess and setting her on his hip, her head resting in his neck.

(y/n) picked up the boy and walked over to harry, muttering a counterspell under their breath, and with a snap of their fingers, the two kids snapped out of their trance. The Girl leaning away from Harry and looking from him to (y/n), her eyes wide.

“where-whats” her lip wobbled, starting to cry a bit. the boy stared at Harry with wide eyes.

“you’re Harry Hook” the boy whispered in awe, squeaking a bit as (y/n) rearranged their grip on him.

“that's all dandy but we have to get you both back to your homes, the witches will be back soon and I need to be here when they are”

Harry nodded, pressing the girl's face back into his neck and following (y/n) out to the back door.

“come on, the main town is this way!”

=

Harry and (y/n) dropped the girl off, who told them her name of Sofia, and hurried her inside. “now don’t go after random singing on Halloween okay, it only leads to bad things” (y/n) warned them, handing the young girl a slip of paper with markings on it “as long as you have this, you will be protected from my mother's song” Sofia nodded, unsure but ran into her house, slamming the door behind her.

“alrigh’” Harry sighed, shifting Elijah in his arms and looked at the young boy “where do yeh live?”

Elijah pointed across the street and down a few houses “tha’ close huh?” Harry muttered, letting the boy down and watching him as he ran toward his home.

The boy stopped as (y/n) called his name, turning as they jogged over to him and handed him another piece of paper “thanks” Elijah squeaked, bolting into his house and slamming the door closed.

(y/n) sighed, rubbing their face in exhaustion “two down….however many kids to go” (y/n) rolled their neck and looked over at harry “now lets get you home too”

Harry stared at (y/n) as they walked up to him and held out their hands “I didn’t do this with the kids because I know they would freak but I can teleport us to where you live”

“yeh can teleport?” Harry asked, tilting his head as he stared at (y/n)s hands.

“yep, me, my mother, and my aunts each have a special power, my mom has a hypnotic singing voice, my aunt Mary can sniff out any kid from miles away, and my aunt Winnie can shoot lightning from her hands” Harry nodded slowly, grabbing onto (y/n)s hands.

“so what now?” Harry asked, watching as (f/c) smoke started to rise around him and (y/n)

“where do you live?” (y/n) chuckled, smiling at him.

“uh, im staying at Evie's castle right now”

“oh, I know where that is!” (y/n) cheered, the smoke swirling around them for a moment before it dissipated, revealing them now to be in front of Evie’s castle.

“cool” Harry muttered, not noticing (y/n) look down at their still intertwined hands and hurriedly ripped their hands away from him, Harry turned to (y/n), furrowing his brows as (y/n) looked around with wandering eyes “don’t go back” (y/n) whipped around to look at him with surprise.

“i-what?”

“don’t go back, stay here” Harry pleaded, grabbing onto (y/n)s shoulders “yer not happy there, and yer gonna waste away being their slave”

(y/n) just stared at him, sighing as they grabbed his hands and slowly took them off their shoulders “I…..I have to, to protect the kids”

Harry sighed, biting his lip in thought “okay….but!” (y/n) looked at harry, confusion swimming in their eyes “after tonight, come back here, im sure Evie would be happy to accommodate yeh, i’ll even ask for extra measure” (y/n) shook their head, looking over their shoulder back towards the witches cottage.

“…okay” (y/n) sighed, giggling as harry beamed at them and grabbed their shoulders in his excitement.

“Okay!?”

“okkayy! I'll come back tomorrow after my mom and aunts are asleep” Harry grinned at (y/n), chuckling as (y/n) smiled back.

“but….why do you want me to come back after tonight?” (y/n) asked, tilting their head at harry.

“because you saved meh from them 12 years ago…might as well return tha’ favor?” Harry smirked, snickering as (y/n)s cheeks darkened.

“well…I should get back now….see ya later?” (y/n) stepped away from Harry, (f/c) smoke rising around them. “see ya later” Harry confirmed, waving (y/n) goodbye as the smoke complexly enveloped them and they disappeared.

Harry sighed, cracking his neck and walking back inside Evie's castle, sneaking back up to his room and flopping on his bed, closing his eyes and falling asleep instantly from the crazy night.

=

Harry sighed in relief as the next morning, when Evie turned on the tv and the Auradon news came up, some breaking news came up about how the Sanderson sisters had been caught attempting their old antics with stealing the life force of children and had been arrested.

And the child of Sarah Sanderson had been confirmed secretly helping the children escaped, as claimed by the many children saved by the teen witch.

“aint (y/n) Sanderson that kid you met on the isle when you were like, 6? Harry?” Uma asked aloud, looking over her shoulder at Harry as he stuck another piece of pancakes in his mouth.

He swallowed and nodded, picking at his scrambled eggs “aye, and I….shoot, Evie I saw ‘em again last night, and might have told them if they wanted to they could come here?”

“that’s perfectly fine” Evie gushed, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron “I have plenty of room for them here, and-wait you saw them? How?”

“uhhh” Harry stalled, watching as Uma set her fork down and stared at him with raised brows.

“you did a stupid didn’t you?” Uma droned, leaning on her intertwined hands.

“uhhh, yes?” Harry winched, yelping as Uma sent a torrent of water at him “hey! I was bewitched! It wasn’t meh fault!” Harry pouted, crossing his arms.

Everyone went silent as Evie's front door got knocked on, Evie glanced at Harry and took off her apron, tossing it onto the counter and walking over to her door, slowly opening it and peeking around the door.

“oh! You must be (y/n)! Harry told us about you!”

“r-really? He did?” the teen muttered, gasping as Evie grabbed their wrist and dragged them in.

“yep! Now! Are you hungry?” Evie pushed them into the living room that doubled as a dining room that connected to the kitchen, (y/n) stared at all the vks, locking eyes with Harry.

“i-yes?”

“Great! I'll make you up a plate and you get acquainted with everyone!”

Evie clapped her hands and skipped back into the kitchen, giggling with Mal as (y/n) just stood awkwardly where Evie left her.

“yeh kept yer promise” Harry smiled, standing up and walking over to (y/n), putting his hands on his hips and leaning towards (y/n)

“uhh yep” (y/n) chuckled, rubbing their arm nervously “Im here?”

Harry chuckled at their awkwardness and grabbed their shoulder, shoving them into the middle of the room, in view of everyone “(y/n) this is everyone, everyone this is (y/n), they have saved my ass twice now”

“hi” (y/n) waved awkwardly, a small grin on their face. Uma stood from her seat at the island and walked over to (y/n), slowly circling her like a vulture. “ummm hi?”

Uma hummed, standing in front of (y/n), her eyes dark and revealing nothing….then she smiled, reaching out and patting (y/n)s shoulder “nice to meet you (y/n)”

(y/n) gave a small smile, “nice to meet you too….Uma? right?”

Uma nodded and nodded her head back at the island near the kitchen, where Evie was setting (y/n)s plate full of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. “yep that’s me, and your foods ready”

(y/n) slowly walked over to their food, taking off their bag that was slung over their shoulder and setting it on the floor, hesitantly starting to eat the food Evie had given them.

Almost comically, their eyes widened and they started to scarf down the breakfast. Evie giggled and tapped on the counter, grabbing (y/n)s attention “apple or orange juice?”

“apple please” (y/n) spoke with a mouth full of food, blushing as Evie giggled once more and walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle.

She poured the drink and set it in front of (y/n) who gently took the cup and started to drink, turning towards the tv as it went back to the Sanderson sister's arrest.

*they will be stripped of their magic and be sent to the new high-security prison implemented on the isle of the doomed.*

“how many kids did yeh save (y/n)?” Harry asked, turning to look at the teen witch. (y/n) swallowed her mouthful of bacon and shrugged.

“around 20, including you and those two kids, my aunts and mom didn’t get far before the Auradon guard was called on ‘em”

“hm” Uma nodded in approval, smirking at harry “good job”

Harry smirked back, standing and sitting next to (y/n), watching as Dizzy changed the channel to Sunday cartoons

“so do yeh think you’ll stick around?” Harry whispered, (y/n) turned to him, and smiled.

“yeah I think I will” they whispered back, leaning back in their chair and watching the show “Powerpuff girls” as it played.

Harry smiled, happy to have finally repaid his debt to the witch who had saved him all those years ago.

And it was going to be fun to tease them since they went all dark whenever he simply looked at them.

-end-

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[pascalscenarios]

HOW TO LOVE (Marcus Pike x Reader

HOW TO LOVE

Marcus Pike x Reader  

Summary: To say thank you for helping you out last night, you take Marcus out for Lunch

Warning: None

Words: 2016

Author's Note: Hello! It’s been a hot minute! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I’ve kinda been all over the place for the last two weeks. I finally had time to actually write! I’ll try my best to go back to posting on Saturdays/Sunday like I was. 

My Whiskey fic Common Ground, will be coming up soon pretty soon. Sorry for the wait! 

Hope you all are doing well! Enjoy! ( this chapters sorta boring sorry :( )

- K

CH 1| CH 2 | CH 3

Chapter 3

You sat at the information desk as you watched Marcus from across the lobby. The Art crime team came in early this morning. You were observing him, taking notice of how he interacts with others. He was talking to another agent. His hands were on his hips laughing about something. You wanted to say thank you again for last night, but you didn’t feel like bothering him.

You must have been staring for a while because the other agent took notice. They said something making Marcus look over his shoulder, locking eyes with you.

You were caught, but you tried to play it off as best you could. You quickly make yourself look busy, picking up a pen and writing random things down on a blank piece of paper.

Your eyes slowly glaze up seeing Marcus say something to the agent and walk towards your way. You continued writing on the paper making a fake to-do list, writing whatever popped into your mind.

“Hey” he smiled standing in front of the desk.

“Hi”

“How’s your day been for far?”

“Uh...busy!” you say, not daring to look up at him, embarrassed that he saw you staring at him. You didn’t know why you were still trying to pretend, you were caught.

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I saw you staring at me.” he joked at you, smiling.

You felt your cheeks burn. There was no doubt you were turning red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare...”

He chuckled. “It’s alright”

“It’s just...I.. uh...I wanted to say thank you again… you know for last night” you finally look at him, fiddling with your pen.

“Yeah, it was no problem. Did you make it home okay?”

“ I did, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“How about you? You made it home alright?”

“Yeah, just fine...If something like that happens again, just let me know...actually-” He leans in close, grabbing the yellow sticky note from off your desk, and takes the pen that you were holding from your hands.

“Here” He quickly scribbles something down, peeling it off and handing it with the pen back to you.

You take it as he places the sticky note pad back on your desk.

You look down at what he wrote.

Marcus: 202-555-4275

He gave you his number.

“My cell phone number in case you need anything...Is that okay?” He was hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

“Yeah, thank you” you smiled.

“Alright, well I just wanted to tell you hello real quick. I’ll see you around.” With that, he smiles and makes his way towards the elevators.

Without thinking you called out his name “Marcus!”

He turns around looking at you. “Yeah?”

“Do you wanna maybe get lunch later today? My treat. It’s the least I could do since you helped me out last night.” you offered. You felt bad for the way you treated him and then he was willing to help you. You wanted to return the kind gesture.

He smiled brightly at you.

“Sure, I’ll swing by your desk at 12?”

“Yeah” “Okay, I’ll see you then!” With that, he heads on his way.

“Lunch date with Marcus Pike?” Laurie chimes in, sitting in her seat next to yours and we both watch him wait for the elevators.

You spin your chair back facing towards, Laurie following. You take the sticky note, folding it up, and stuffing it in your pants pocket. “It’s not a lunch date...more of a thank-you lunch. I got caught up in the rain last night and my car got towed while I was printing the packets out.”

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I should have gotten those packets printed out earlier-”

“No! It’s not your fault. Everything worked out fine actually. Marcus was still around. He gave me a ride and helped me get my car back from the impound...It was really sweet honestly.”

“See he’s not so bad after all. Give him a chance dear, get to know him.”

Although you were still a little wary of him, part of you was curious to learn more about Marcus.

…

It was noon. Marcus should be coming around soon. You were working on brainstorming ideas

“You ready?” Marcus

“Sorry, just give a few minutes.”

“No worries take your time.” He says he patiently waits for you.

You head over to the office grabbing your wallet and phone from your bag. You walked back out into the desk area placing the lunch break sign out, then walking over to the short desk door, letting yourself out.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I know this good cafe that’s not far from here, it's down a block. Not too far, we can walk.”

“Okay.”

You two head over to the exit, Marcus opening the door for you. “Thanks”

He gives you a smile as you exit, following behind you. You both made your way down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Today was a nice day. It was sunny, a blue sky with patches of clouds, and a soft wind blew.

“So” Marcus begins to say.

“How are you liking D.C. so far?” he stuffs his hands in his pocket as he walks beside you.

“It’s great. I’m from Virginia actually. My family used to drive up to D.C. all the time when I was a kid.” You smile thinking about the fond memories you have.

“Ah, so you’re used to all the hustle and bustle around here…” He chuckles.

“Sorta, It's different living here than visiting. I’m from a small town so the rush 27/7 is something I need to get used to.”

“I know what you mean, I’m originally from Texas. I worked at the FBI headquarters in Austin. I’m used to the rush but D.C. is a whole different type of face pace”

“Texas? You’re pretty far from home. How come you’re out here on the east coast?” you asked.

“In Austin, I was working on local art crime cases. I got offered a promotion to run a task force here in D.C. dealing with international art crime.”

“Wow, that's great.”

“Thanks”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Couple years now.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, I do, some aspects of it, like my friends and family. I try to visit when I can, if not then phone calls and facetime are the next best thing.” He stayed silent for a few moments. “Do you miss home?” “Not really, other than my parents. I’m glad I got out of my hometown honestly. It’s like a breath of breath air.” you sighed in relief.

“Yeah, I’m kinda glad I got out of Austin. I had a fiance back home. We were supposed to start a life out here, but she ended up leaving me for another man.”

Maybe this was what Elliot meant when he said you might have something in common with Marcus… ex issues. You felt terrible that Marcus' fiance left him for another man. It reminded you of the countless times your ex cheated on you. You knew the feeling. The feeling of hurt and betrayal.

“Marcus, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright. It was a while ago. I’ve moved past it.” He shrugged.

“I know, but still that must have hurt.” You say sadly.

“It did, but what happened, happened. Life moves forwards. The person you’re meant to be with will come along eventually.”

Marcus was so optimistic and helpful when it came to love, unlike you. You on the other hand were fearful and scared of it.

“Here we are.”

He says stopping in front of an old brick building. You look up reading the sign outside.

Martells’

“It’s a family-owned cafe and has been here for years. They got the best sandwiches in D.C.”

…

You were slowly warming up to Marcus, starting to grow comfortable in his presence. You two sat at a table for the past hour eating lunch and talking about random things. He asked you questions about yourself. He was genuinely interested and cared about getting to know you, your hobbies, and your passions. It was strange for you, but it felt nice to be heard and even seen in a sense. Your ex never cared or seemed interested when it came to things you were interested in or liked.

Marcus told a story about his first case as an agent. He couldn’t help but laugh at his own story, poking fun of himself. A huge smile was smeared on his face, his eyes squinting as he laughed. You liked his laugh. It was that contagious.

“Oh no!” You gasped, laughing.

“They never let me hear the end of it. To this day, they still talk about it down in Austin. My old coworkers still give me shit for it when I talk to them.” He shakes his head.

“How did you even bounce back from that?”

“You didn’t…You wait until someone makes a bigger mistake, but mine was top tier. I don’t think anyone could outdo what I did, but I managed to figure out cases which took most of the attention away” He picks up his soda, taking a sip.

His phone began to ring. He pulls it out of his pocket looking at the caller ID.

“Sorry I gotta take this”

“No, of course”

“Hello?” he answers the call. “Yeah...Mhm...Shit. Okay, I’ll be there in a few.” He hands up, stuffing the phone back in his pocket.

“I’m sorry, something came up, I have to go to the FBI building.”

“I understand. I should be going back anyway.” You looked down at your watch. You lost track of time. You went over your lunch break.

The two of you stand up, throwing your trash away and exiting the cafe.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you,” You tell Marcus.

“I’m not going anywhere yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “But you have to go??? Aren't you gonna take a cab or is someone gonna pick you up”

“Yeah I gotta go, but I’m walking you back”

“Marcus, you seriously don’t need to” You were fine walking back on your own.

“No, I’m walking with you back” He insisted.

“But-” you tried to protest.

He cuts you off “-No buts, come on”

You gave up trying to argue about it and you let him walk back with him. When you reach the museum steps you both stop.

“Thank you for lunch.”

“You’re welcome. Martells was great. You weren’t kidding when you said the sandwiches were good.”

“I told you...I had a great time. Maybe we could do lunch again some other time?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great...I’ll see you later. I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“You too, Marcus”

You lightly wave. You make your way up the steps to the top. You look over your shoulder, seeing that Marcus was still standing. Once he sees that he reaches the top, he walks away down the sidewalk back in the direction you guys came from.

You open the entrance door walking through the lobby to the information desk. You see Elliot at the desk talking to Laurie.

“Well look you came back from her overextended lunch..” Elliot teases.

“I’m so sorry, I lost track of time-” You say as you make your way to your chair.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, especially if you were on a date with Marcus Pike!”

“How’d it go?’ Laurie asked.

“First off, It wasn't a date, it was a thank-you lunch” you addressed Elliot, “second, it was fine,” you tell Laurie.

“Fine? Just fine?” Elliot gives you a look.

“Yeah…”

“That’s it?” Elliot was expecting more.

“What do you want me to say, Elliot?”

“More than just that it was fine!”

“Elliot, Marcus, and I hardly know each other. All we did was talk. That was it.” You rolled your eyes.

“What do you think about him?” Laurie asked.

“He’s...different.”

“Different bad or Different good?” Elliot raised an eyebrow at you curious as to what your response will be.

“Good...Different good.” a smile slowly crept on your face. 

TAG // @alberta-sunrise​ @spacenerdpascal​ @ryleyrooroo​ @reader-s-cantina

MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi​ @sara-alonso​ @greeneyedblondie44

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 57]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

I’m going to do this and chill for a bit. Then maybe force myself to do my grading later.

Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

 Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

 Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

 He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

 Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

 Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

 Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

 Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

 By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

 It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

 She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

 Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

 “Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

 She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

  Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

 That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

 Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

 “And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

 “Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

 “Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

 “We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

 Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

 “Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

43410

“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

 “Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

 “You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

 “That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

 Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

 “I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

 Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

 “Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

 Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

 He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

 It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

 Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

 Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

 Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

 “Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

 “Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

 “Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

 “Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

 “Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

 “Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

 Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

 “I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

 Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

 “Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

 He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

  Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

 “I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

  Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

 The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

 “No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

 “How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

 She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

 “Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

[votederpycausemufins]

helleborusangel where hath your ramblings gone. your ramblings my beloved. Sorry for the late chapter today, had a dip in motivation and then tech issues, but it’s longer than last one so hopefully that makes up for it. also pinging @petrichormeraki like always.

(also slightly warning, uh... how do i say this? it’s not explicit or really sexual so... horniness warning? idk. it’s near the end)

They had done their best to help Grum out, but when they turned him back on, he still was out of it. At the very least, Fundy had been glad to see that a face that matched Jrum’s, but blue, replaced the smiley face. Well, that wasn’t all true. Sometimes it flickered back, but that was better than staying looking like Dream’s mask.

Speaking of the admin, he had sent a message to Fundy, leaving the fox looking around, trying to learn where Dream had been hiding, because he obviously saw or heard what had been going on. Fundy reluctantly said goodbye to the bots, leaving them alone with each other.

Jrum was happy to hug onto his brother. “I’m glad you’re doing better!”

Grum nodded before looking at the top of Jrum’s head. “May I have your shears? I assume you still have them with you.”

“Yeah! Sure!” Jrum pulled his favorite shears out and handed them to his brother. His smile turned to confusion as he was pushed down slightly to make him crouch. He could hear the shears being used, and then a sudden sharp pain before it disappeared. “Ow! Be careful!”

“Did I manage to cut your antenna as well?”

“Yeah! It hurt!”

“I apologize, but something was tied around it.” Grum replied, letting Jrum stand up again before holding out a small red vine.

“Oh! One of those pretty plants! It must have gotten up there when I was exploring that cave.” Jrum took the vine and looked it over. “I think I can still pot it with the other sprouts I have.”

“You… have more?”

“Yep!” Jrum replied before going over to a furnace and throwing his clay in to cook. “It kinda looks like nether plants, but at the same time not? It’s slightly more redstony colored!”

“I suppose that is why you would be a fan of it.”

Jrum paused. What did Grum mean by that? It… It almost sounded like an insult. “What?”

“Redstone isn’t very useful.”

“Not that- What are you talking about?! We’re made of redstone and it’s Daddy’s job to work with it! It’s very useful!”

“”It takes too much time and it’s easy to break. Besides, what are you going to do? Make a secret door with it? People can still break through it.”

Jrum frowned. “Don’t say that!”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No it’s not! Shut up! Or I could just make it so you can’t charge yourself!”

“Fine, live in an unfinished house by yourself. I’m sure you’ll be so safe with your diamonds. It’s not like anyone will want those for themselves.”

“I… They won’t be able to take them. I kept them when we respawned unlike most of my stuff. So even if they kill me, they can’t get them!”

“And so what? You’ll just keep them there? I thought you only had five slots in that chest of yours. What happens when you have something more important, or they’re out and you’re using them.” Grum asked, noticing how one of Jrum’s hands moved slightly. “Or are you fine losing that stupid toy of yours?”

“Don’t say that!” Jrum yelled and shoved his brother over. “It’s not stupid! Dad gave it to me and that makes it important!”

“If its connection to him is so important, he’s the one important. But let’s see, he’s not here. We’ve been here days and he hasn’t shown up. At this point, he probably won’t. And you know why?” Jrum refused to answer or guess, so Grum continued. “Because he doesn’t love us. He’s perfectly fine abandoning us. We’re not even the first one he’s done this too. He. Does. Not. Care.”

Jrum started tearing up before running off crying. Grum didn’t go after his brother and instead went back to work on the house, leaving Jrum on his own again. The younger robot was planning to go back to Puffy, but on the way there, he changed his mind. He changed his path and eventually ended up in the cave again. He nearly tripped over a large vine on the floor, but it was almost like it moved slightly so he didn’t. 

The robot went a bit deeper into the cave than he had when he first found it, following the vines on the ground until he reached the mass that the plants were coming from, the red, egg shaped plant towering over Jrum’s small size. It ever so slightly reminded Jrum of the heart of his daddy’s base. That thing was a sort of living machine as well, and he kept forgetting to feed it. He barely cared about it. And now that he and Grum were gone as far as their dads were concerned, it honestly made sense they wouldn’t come looking.

Jrum sat down next to the egg thing and curled up. He looked around and made sure no one was around before pulling out his special diamond block and hugging it. “I wanna go home…” and then he slowly went into sleep mode.

As Grum worked on building, he shut off a number of his functions, the most prominent one being his emotions. He had hurt his brother, but it was necessary. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know what. He didn’t want to hurt his brother, but he did so it couldn’t be worse. For all he knew, he could suddenly start attacking his brother. Even if this did lead to them on opposites sides of conflict, it would be for the better.

Grum paused in his building to check his battery. It was high, but not that close to full charge, which was odd. It currently felt like he was tired and needed to move to a reduced power mode, but also like he was fully charged and slightly buzzy with the energy.

Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: JoeHills. Assigned roles: Hermittown member, Acknowledged associate family, Operator, Higher Being of Unknown Origin. Banned roles: Hermittown member. Acknowledged associate family. Continue blacklist.

Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by 2%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 41.5% total.

Grum shook his head after realizing he was zoning out. Maybe he should go into sleep mode. The second floor was almost complete at this point. Once it was done, the place just needed to be decorated. The robot hopped down to the ground off the partially built roof, ignoring the damage he took, then went inside. He put the blocks away in a nearby chest, making sure it was organized and hopefully wouldn’t lead to a chest monster. Once everything was stored, Grum hopped onto his bed and started to shift to sleep mode.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in sleep mode exactly, but Grum knew it wasn’t long when something woke him up. Specifically from someone coming inside the house. “What, back so soon? Let me guess, you’re low on charge again.”

“I don't really have that.” A voice that wasn’t Jrum’s spoke up and Grum sat up to see Dream.

“I apologize. My brother and I got into a fight.” The robot said, flopping back down

There was a short moment of silence and Grum could imagine the admin shrugging. “It’s fine. Not many people get along all the time here.” Part of Grum wanted to doubt this guy. There was always something off about him, but at the same time… “I see your place is almost done.”

“Yes it is.”

Grum could imagine a nod. “It’s impressive. You only started two days ago and it’s already almost done even at this size.”

Two days ago? That didn’t sound right. He had started… today? But then how had he…? : ) No, that’s right, two days ago. “Can I ask why you’re visiting?”

“Well, you and your brother showing up is pretty interesting. And even though we have people of all kinds here, no one’s a robot.”

“Well now my brother and I are here and we are.” Grum replied, finally sitting back up, knowing the conversation wasn’t ending anytime soon.

“Yeah. Makes me wonder how much we can figure out from you two. Like there’s one thing I figured out which is pretty interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“Hmm… you know I think it’s actually two.”

Grum rolled his eyes. “Yes, and those would be?”

“The first is you can’t remember the last few minutes before you crashed.” Dream said, leaning in the doorway as if what he said was something simple like ‘I saw a cloud’ or ‘it’s almost night time’. It stunned Grum and made him take a moment in processing it. He had trouble remembering before crashes? How did the admin know that? Had he seen it happen? I mean, he would have-

“The second is for some reason you tend to crash when that one person Fundy knows gets mentioned. I think his name is… Iskall?”

For a moment, Grum could almost hear the grin of the admin, before everything went magenta, then black.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in sleep mode exactly, but Grum didn’t think it had been that long when something woke him back up. Specifically from someone coming inside the house. “What, back so soon? Let me guess, you’re low on charge again.”

“Uh, yeah he is.” An unfamiliar voice spoke.

Jrum was slightly jostled from sleep mode when something moved him. He wanted to get up and move to see what it was, but the 12% battery he had left didn’t really give him much cause to try. Instead he just shifted slightly to tell whatever was disturbing him that he had woken up.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not planning to hurt you.” A voice spoke, and they sounded really nice, so Jrum was pretty sure they were telling the truth. “You look a little tired. I don’t have a bed with me, but maybe some food will help?”

Jrum half comprehended the apple that was moved into his vision. He knew it was red and that it was supposed to feed him, so he weakly grabbed it and smacked it against his monitor screen. When he wasn’t able to eat it, Jrum whined, and a moment later the apple was taken back. “I guess no food then. Let’s find you a bed instead. My place is right nearby, so we can use that!”

“B-b-battery.” Jrum stuttered out, clinging to the fabric of whatever this person was wearing. His power conservation was making it hard to talk, but he was trying his best. “N-need ch-charge.”

“Argh! And it’s not a thunderstorm. What are we supposed to do instead?”

“H-house. Ch-charger.”

“Okay, where’s that?”

Jrum didn’t try answering verbally and just sort of tilted his head so the screen could be seen, displaying coordinates on it. He heard the person repeat it a few times before he darkened the screen again to conserve power.

He could feel the slight bounce from being in the person’s arms as they walked, and while at first it was a little jarring to him, it slowly felt more and more like it was being rocked. He kept expecting feathers to gently brush against him as his dad held him, but it didn’t come. He just fell back asleep.

His brother yelling at him unfortunately woke him back up and Jrum was clinging to his dad again. Grum was scolded, and Jrum realized it wasn’t his dad. He could feel himself being set on a bed and some fumbling around. “Where do I plug this thing in?” Jrum held out his hand and was given the charger cord before plugging it into his port, glad to be charging now that he was all the way down to 4%. 

“You should really build yourself one.”

Jrum didn’t respond, just charging, but the person replied for him. “Can’t you share? I mean you both live here.”

“I’d rather we not. He’ll just taint it with redstone everywhere or those little plants of his.”

That was enough for Jrum to respond. “Uggggh! Shut up and let me charge!”

“You’re the one in my house.”

“It’s our house!”

“Our house? I’m the one who built it. You didn’t even make that whole charger yourself, you got my help as well as Sam’s.”

“Well I need the charger just as much as you!” Jrum yelled, sitting up, and immediately regretting doing that as it felt like his head was spinning. “Stop being so selfish!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

“Hey! Language! And don’t talk to your brother like that!” The person said. Jrum was glad they said something, because Jrum just started crying again. Tommy… he cursed a lot. Doc also did plenty. Ren wasn’t quite as bad, but often you could catch him catching himself. Jrum had heard Xisuma throw a few curses out here and there, and even though his dads tried their best, because he was around them so much, Jrum had heard them curse. But this was different. 

He had never heard- okay that wasn’t true. Grum had cursed a few small times, but usually it was something small and when he was more upset at a mistake he made. But this? Grum yelling at him? That had never happened before. Plus, sure Grum tended to be the slightly more mature of them, trying to talk properly and ended up seeming much more robotic, but Jrum knew his brother could be playful and kind too. But recently he had seemed so cold and upset. It was like Jrum didn’t even know his brother.

As Jrum was hugged by the person who had been helping him, neither of them knew what was going on in Grum’s mind as he came to the same thought. It was if he didn’t even know himself.

“Oi! Stop being such a fucking bitch!” Tommy yelled as he flinched away from another piece of TNT Grifter had placed and Tommy had almost run into. “I still don’t know if I’ll fucking respawn!”

“I said you will!” Grifter said, holding back evil giggles.

Tommy grumbled before taking another stick from his inventory and chucking it at the explosive material after walking a few more blocks. The moment the stick touched it, the TNT exploded, leaving a hole behind. 

“I still don’t understand why the fuck we’re here and not back in Helscraft. I thought you wanted to see your boyfriend.”

“He's not my boyfriend, he’s my husband.” Grifter corrected. “And I said there’s something we need to pick up first.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, but continued to follow the hels avian since he didn’t want to get stranded here. “So, you’re also an avian like Grian.”

“Yes I am.” Grifter responded along with a flutter of his wings. “And?”

“Well it’s prettt fucking obvious Grian’s a parrot. I know my Phil’s a crow. The Phil here looked basically the same, but if it’s something else maybe a raven? I heard they have really similar wings. But what are yours?”

“Magpie. And yeah, dad’s a raven.”

“Cool, cool.” Tommy nodded, trying to think of something else to ask. “Uh, what exactly are we after?”

“Aww, don’t you want it to be a surprise?”

“Fuck no. For all I know it’s some trap to try and kill me.”

“I would never!” Grifter said sarcastically. “It’s just something I’m sure Sense wants to see just as much as me. I put them here just before getting trapped and made sure you couldn’t get them again without going to the right coordinations.”

“And how much further do we still need to go?”

“Not much. I could have been there ages ago if I wasn’t dragging you along.”

“You’re the one who kept putting down TNT!”

Grifter responded to that comment by placing down another piece of the explosive, Tommy running into it this time and it lighting, the teen desperately running away before it actually exploded.

“You bird bitch!”

“Oh shut up, we’re here.”

Tommy looked around and saw nothing. “And what’s here?”

Grifter didn’t answer, just smiled as the ground shifted and part of it started to rise from the ground, slowly shifting into an elongated spiral. Tommy watched as the material shifted into bedrock and then magic emanated from it with green particles. Grifter went over and reached a hand in, then a second, and the. He put his whole head in as he continued to look for whatever was on the other side of… Tommy was pretty sure it was a portal.

“THEY’RE AWAKE!” Grifter shouted at the top of his lungs when he pulled his head out again, scaring Tommy and making him fall over in panic.

“Man, what the fuck, don’t do shit like that!”

Grifter didn’t answer, just went back into the portal, this going through time all the way up to his hips. He was short enough his legs were just left flailing around as he tried to reach something on the other end. An arm started to come back and Tommy was surprised it was dragging something along. “What the fuck. Is that Jrumbot?!”

Grifter came back dragging along what looked to be Grumbot. “Oh? They exist in your world? That helps explain it. But no, these are Sefter and… did we ever give the second one a name?”

“You and your version of Mumbo built these?”

“No, not really.”

“Then did you find them somewhere or some shit.”

Tommy regretted asking when Grifter looked at him with a smirk. “You see, when two people love each other a lot, they end up taking all their clothes off and-”

“Don’t you fucking continue with that! And how do you even make something like that when you two are not that?! Wait, never mind. My brother had a fox with a fish.”

“Huh, not adopted then? Good to know. But yeah, I’m sure you’ve heard the parrots and the bats before. And these two came out of one very wonderful night-” “I said don’t talk about it!” “-though they didn’t seem right and so we tried checking them out, but nothing. Then I sort of got a bounty on my head and I hid them away here!”

“So you just had versions of Grum and Jrum before they were built?!”

“Uh, I suppose so. It’s a shame they had to build them and not-“

“Can you please fucking stop and just get us to Helscraft.”

“Of course! I’m sure the kids will love to see their papa.”

“I would ask another question, but I think I know the answer.”

“I can tell you’re right.” Grifter smirked before taking them to Helscraft. “Oh Evil X! Guess who’s back in town!” There was no answer and he pouted. “Hello? Where’s the fun of showing up if no one is here to freak out?”

“Uh, going to see the person you came to visit? Tommy suggested. 

“Well yeah, but I don’t know where he is while you do.” Grifter crossed his arms before looking up at the sky. A few moments later, the reddish purplish hue of the shy shifted into the same color of an ender pearl, maybe a bit brighter. “There, that should let people know I’m here. Now where’s Sense?”

“Uh… we go through the portal on the main island, follow a path with blue clouds until we get to NPG’s place. We pick up something to let us breathe, and then you go right.”

“You go… right? Like is that east? West? North or south?”

Tommy shrugged. “Dunno. It’s just right.”

“Alright fine, just show me where we’re going before everyone shows up to try and trap me again. Come on boys!” Grifter called to the two robots who had been running around who quickly came back over to him. “And maybe on the way I can think of a name for you.” Grifter booped where a nose would be on the hels version of Jrum.

As Tommy guided them, Grifter spent the time brainstorming ideas for names while ignoring all the mobs that were trying to kill them. Tommy did his best to fight off the monsters, but he still didn’t have much gear, still only having what was salvaged from the one room in the prison.

“So obviously my other side and I had the same idea with names, so something based on that, but I’m not sure what would fit there. Do I just use a d as well for defter?”

Tommy shot another of the living cloud things out of the sky, wishing the thing had infinity since he was down to seven arrows. “It was actually a J, but I guess it does sound like Drum instead of Jrum sometimes.”

“Hmm, you’re right, I can sort of hear a difference. Now, I could also do something else… Where did the J come from again?”

“It was from the word junior I think.” Tommy said before needing to dodge an attack, nearly being hit by a second in the process. “You think you want to help out at all?!”

“They’re aggroed on you, not us, so it’s fine. Hmm, maybe something that’s a synonym?”

“Well if I die to these things, then they’ll be after you!”

“Ugh, fine.” Grifter rolled his eyes and summoned some gear for Tommy. “Put on the armor and use that instead of a bow. It works better and is less affected by gravity.”

Tommy took the armor and put it on before looking at the tube he had been given along with a bunch of darts. He tried firing a few of them, but he just kept missing. “I’d prefer arrows over these things!” Tommy shouted back, making the Listener get closer and use some magic on the bow, giving it infinity.

“There? Happy? Now maybe Befter for Brother? Brefter? Hmm, younger Yefter? No, that sounds stupid. I could try another name mix? But already used Sefter and while Pergrift sounds nice, that’s supposed to be our name. Maybe Grifter then Sense? Grise? Grense? Or maybe use Perfect instead and get Grifect. Oh yes! Grifect! Sefter and his little brother Grifect! Oh it’s just right!”

“Great! Now that you figured it out can you please just fucking help out and shit?!”

Grifter rolled his eyes, but did start to help, but he also gave the two helsbots some weapons to see what they could do. Grifect did okay, but Sefter seemed to take to it like a fish to water. Tommy thought it was even a little scary how well the kid was doing. But at the very least it kept them safe while traveling and they were able to move faster, arriving at NPG’s base before too long. 

Grifter refused to take a single step into the place, claiming NPG was his mortal enemy or something, so Tommy was the one to go inside and find what they needed. Rifling through chests, Tommy found some wood called skyroot, and used that to make a chest and sign, dumping the stuff from the prison into it. He then put a sign on the front of the chest for NPG for whenever he got back. ‘Theseus replace me. needed gear. Srry about grifte. Tommy’.

It was a little hard to get the message out while fitting it on the sign, but Tommy hoped it would be enough. He then went over to the nearby armor stands and took armor from the stand that had a set of purple armor as well as an elytra. Based on what Tommy had seen people wearing the short time he had been there, he was pretty sure the pink armor was the equivalent to netherite here, but diamond equivalent would do fine and he didn’t want to steal good armor.

After that he went looking for tools and weapons and food. He grabbed a sword, pick, axe and the masks he came in here for in the first place. During his search, he also grabbed what seemed to be a special crossbow, some more arrows, fireworks, blocks for making bridges, and some food. Finally, just to be completely safe, not knowing how long he would be stuck with all this gear, Tommy also grabbed a wooden bucket filled with water in case of MLG jumps, and a shulker box that he emptied out into other nearby chests.

Out of all the things he was glad to grab, Tommy didn’t expect the water bucket to come in handy so soon, but when he left the base, he was greeted with Grifter putting TNT down to blow the place up. The teen rushed to each of the explosives and covered them with water before detonating them, which left Grifter upset, but at the very least he didn’t seem to try it again.

“Okay, now time to go find Sense.” Tommy spoke up, getting Grifter to stop being as angry as before. He led them on the same path NPG had taken them on the initial visit, eventually leading them to the bridge of purple clouds. Tommy showed the hels avian what he was supposed to do, but instead he just picked up one of the kids and flew them over before grabbing the other and doing the same, leaving Tommy wondering why he hadn’t just used his elytra.

From there, they walked further ahead until they saw a small house. The moment Tommy pointed at it, Grifter raced off towards it, yelling at the top of his lungs. “SEESEE!!! I’M BACK!!!” And just as he was reaching the building, Sense was coming through the door and got tackled by Grifter. Tommy was left to catch up, dragging the kids behind him, glad that this place seemed to be permanently devoid of mobs and he didn’t need to deal with any of them too.

The teen honestly didn’t know what he expected when he found the two helsmits still on the ground kissing each other. The only thing that Tommy didn’t expect at all was the green magic around them, and when Grifter finally pulled away, the teen was surprised to see the scar that had been on Sense’s neck was gone now. “Did… Did you just fucking kiss him to heal him?”

“I mean, I didn’t need to…” Grifter started.

“Oh but it was definitely the best way.” Sense finished for him, sitting up. “And are those who I think they are?”

Grifter jumped back up. “Yes! They were kept perfectly safe and now they’re even active!” He pulled the robot kids over to introduce them. “This one’s Sefter as I believe you probably remember, and now this one is named Grifect. Unless you think another name would do well.”

“No, it fits quite well.” Sense replied before pulling Grifter close to him again. “And you said they’re active? How did you manage that? Was it all those planning sessions?”

“Oh no, I’d never manage to pull off the things you could. It just seems that they showed up before they had counterparts, and now they’re working with them.”

“Ugh, must we be the alternates and not the originals?”

“For all you know, that could mean we end up like those prude mirror versions of ourselves.”

“Hmm, I would miss the mind blowing s-”

“O-Kay! Since you’re together, does this mean I can get back home now? I got you out of prison and now got you to your husband, so now it’s your turn!”

“Yeah yeah. You’re going to need to find EX because I can’t get you there without extra help.”

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock, then anger. “Are you telling me I did all of this shit for you and you can’t fucking do anything?!”

“Hey, I got you out of season four. You couldn’t have done that alone. But I’m just a Listener. If I had help from someone else like a Watcher, then maybe I could do something. EX is an admin, a hacker, is linked to Hermitcraft and that dimension from his brother and the fact that he’s not 100% biologically a hels being.”

Tommy grumbled. “Fine, but can you at least teleport me to him so I don’t have to try and find him myself?”

“No he can’t. He’s not around.” Sense spoke up. “Word went out that he’s off visiting Hermitcraft again.”

“Again? How long has he been going?”

“Since a few months ago when NPG pulled someone over. The message goes out every once and a while leaving someone else in charge. With the bastard that attacked me gone to visit family, Prof’s the one in charge.”

“He’s actually not gone for family. The bitch replaced me instead.”

Sense raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that so? My my, and that lead to Grifter getting out. Wouldn’t it be fun to him coming back and finding someone else in his place.”

“Look, I’m sure you two want plenty of time with each other to do evil and gross things, but unless you can figure something out, I’m gonna bother you two until you fucking do something!”

Grifter rolled his eyes before pulling away from Sense. “Alright fine you little shit. We’ll figure something out. And if we can’t, then we can kill you instead.”

Tommy started backing up. “Uh, did I say bother you two, I meant, I’ll ask politely every once and a while. I’m sure that sounds good, right?”

“No no, Gri’s got a point.” Sense smiled. “With you gone you’ll be gone from Hermitcraft for good, and when that happens, well, the same thing will happen to Theseus. Making sure he can’t try anything more.”

“Aww, c’mon. Maybe since he’s there and I’m here, it won’t work?” Tommy asked in a somewhat pleading tone. “Please don’t kill me.”

Grifter pulled out a piece of TNT, ready to use it on Tommy, when Grifect tugged on his tunic shirt. “Aww, what do you want sweetie? Do you want to have fun with him first?”

“Wouwdn’t uwu wanna huwt the pewson who huwt papa fiwst instead of him?”

Tommy was very conflicted by that. On one hand, it looked like this kid was going to save his life. On the other, did they really need to do it by dealing him who knows how many points of psychic damage? “Uh, yeah, listen to the kid.” ‘Either to make you change your mind or make your ears bleed.’ He continued in his mind.

“Aww, my little pumpkin is already talking!” Grifter cooed, and the second option went out the window. “Well do you have any ideas on what to do?”

“Maybe hacking awnd wistenew powews wowking togethew cawn wowk!” Grifect answered and now Tommy was wondering if maybe death wouldn’t be all that bad. 

“Oh my! Are you telling me you know how to hack! That is wonderful! Oh Sense it’s like the perfect family!”

“Well it’s my family, so of course it is.”

“Yes, everything with you is perfect. Perfect plans, perfect family, perfect-”

“Oh my god please just kill me so I don’t have to listen to this anymore.” Tommy groaned. Fortunately, that seemed to work because apparently he kept ‘killing the mood’ anyway. Within a few moments, Tommy felt like he was falling even though everything around his was a weird purple color. And then suddenly, his feet were on the ground and he was standing in what seemed to be a large empty building. And based on the noises coming outside, said building was in the nether.

“Ugh. Well, at least I still have the fucking gear.”

[panic-at-the-fiction]

Hello Darling pt3

Summary: (y/n) is the salvatores younger sister and she is low key in love with one of the originals. You know which one. The only problem is he is a low key psychopath and neither of them remember that this isn’t their first meeting.

Warnings: just harmless flirting

A/N: I’ve been in love with Kol Mikaelson for 3 days now. I’m being forced to watch vampire diaries with my mom and Kol and the rest of the original family are like the only reason I’m still watching it.

You hadn't gotten any sleep last night. You spent 3 hours in the emergency room with Matt because he wouldn't drink your blood. He didn't want to risk becoming a vampire. But you were trying to be a nice person nowadays so you respected his decision and waited with him at the ER. You didn't get home till 4 in the morning, and it took you at least an hour to get out of that stupid dress you had worn. You really wish you hadn't had gone to that stupid party. It had been filled with one disappointment after another, but now you were home in your apartment. With no annoying brothers, no doppelgänger sluts, and no originals. The sun was coming up and you were finally able to get some sleep for the day.

You didn't wake up till about 12 in the afternoon. By the time you showered and left your apartment it was already 1 o'clock so you were shocked when you arrived at your brothers house in time to see Rebekah Mikaelson leaving in the same dress she had worn to the party the night before. She only ignored you and walked out of the house. Not even making eye contact with you.

Damon walked down the stairs barely dressed after having obviously just taken a shower.

"What was Rebekah doing here?" You knew exactly what she had been doing, but you needed your brother to admit it.

"She was just leaving." He smiled and walked away trying to ignore your question. You followed him into the library.

"No Damon, I mean why was she here in the first place?"

"I may or may not have gotten drunk and brought her back here after Elena shut me down last night." He poured himself a drink.

You couldn't help but laugh at your ass of an older brother. It was only a couple hours ago that he accused you of sleeping with an original and here he is brushing off his one night stand like it didn't matter that he's a big fat hypocrite. "You know what? Eat Shit Damon."

"Aww come on (y/n) so what if I slept with Rebekah. Why do you care?"

"I care because last night when you weren't busy fawning over Elena you were slut shaming me for being around an original but today you're sleeping with one of them like it's no big deal. So yeah, Damon. eat shit and see if I care!" You stormed out of the house, not wanting to be around your brother any longer. He was a jerk and he never made an effort to apologize for it. Not like he did with Stefan at least.

You decide it was best if you went back to not caring and day drinking. So you headed back to the mystic grill and picked back up where you left off yesterday, half way through a bottle of whiskey.

By the time ten o'clock rolled around you were on your fourth bottle of whiskey and you were starting to crave something stronger, something that didn't come from a bottle. You looked around the room eyeing everyone in the bar. It was really packed since it was ten-o'clock on a Saturday. You were sizing everybody up to see who you could snatch away and take a bite out of. You notice some girl walking towards the bathroom. You quickly finished your drink and tried to go after the girl. But when you turned to leave your seat Kol was standing in front of you, blocking you from going after the girl.

"Hello Darling, I see your day drinking again. Whiskey of all things. Most girls are into champagne and fruity cocktails nowadays but you really aren't must girls are you." He set his coat on the back of the chair and set down next to you at the bar.

You really didn't want to see Kol right now or really ever. You saw another girl head to the bathroom so you gave up trying to feed from them and refilled your whiskey glass. "Not like most girls? Was that supposed to be a complement? You're gonna have to do better than that after what you did." You kept staring at the wall in front of you. You didn't want to look at him right now. Hell you didn't want him to be there right now.

"Oh yes how is the quarterback? All hyped on vampire juice and healed now?"

"No, he wouldn't take my blood. I had to sit in the ER with him all last night."

"Oh so is that why you're here drinking?"

"Why are you here Kol?" You turned to face him.

"Would you believe if I said that I care about your problems?" You rolled your eyes and you could tell he was just being sarcastic. "Yeah I wouldn't either. I'm not usually the one to care about other people and their problems. That was usually Elijah. Though I do feel different after having been daggered and living in a coffin for so long maybe I can give it go. So how about you tell me your problems and I'll tell you mine?"

You ignored him, just went back to staring at the wall and drinking your whiskey. "Well fine then I'll start first. Today my brother and my mother tried to kill me and all of my siblings, but then your brothers accidentally stopped them by killing my brother, permanently this time, before my mother could complete her spell. So now she's off in the wind trying to figure out how to finish us off."

He took the whiskey bottle from you and grabbed an empty glass to fill it up. You just stared at him, you felt bad about what had happened to him. You couldn't even imagine what he must be feeling right now. "I'm so sorry about what happened with your mother and for what my brothers did. I had no idea they were planning any of this. Which one of your brothers was it?"

"Finn." He downed what he could of the whiskey and refilled. He was obviously having a bad day.

"Were you two close?"

"No not really. He was a lot older and he spent the better half of the last millennium in a box for having a stick up his ass."

"Your family is something else."

He laughed a bit "You're telling me. So what happened to you today? Couldn't be any worse than my day."

"No but it wasn't any good." Kol just kept drinking and nodded along. "Went to my brother's house this afternoon to check in on them and make peace after last night. Turns out he and your sister hooked up last night. So I called him a hypocritical dick for yelling at me last night and for accusing me of sleeping with you then stormed out of the house and came here."

"So that's where Rebekah was last night. I'll have to remember to torment her later with that." He raised his glass and clinked it with yours, "Cheers."

"Cheers." You couldn't help but to stare at Kol. Despite everything he did last night you didn't hate him. He was different tonight, he wasn't cocky and confident he seemed genuine. About an hour and a bottle later. You were both pretty drunk, even for vampires. You found yourself once again wanting to spend more time with the jerk. After everything he did to your friend you still liked him, more than you probably should have. Everything about him just seemed so familiar and comfortable.

You decided it was best that you left before you tried to do anything you might regret. "I should probably get going, it's late."

"Do you need me to walk you home or get you a cab?" Kol started to laugh, "I'm trying to be nice here, I'm not sure it's working for me."

"No, I'll be okay. I don't live far from here." You got up and started to walk towards the door as Kol stopped you about half way.

"Hey (y/n) wait!" He grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him. "I'm sorry about what I did at the ball yesterday. I was mad at my sister and I took it out on your friend Matt and your brother."

It fell silent between you two for a moment. Kol was still holding your wrist in his hand. You started to laugh, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just, you're apologizing for trying to kill my only friend and my brother and I've just forgiven you. I'm not even upset about it, Because I've been there before, when you're so mad at someone that you take it out on someone else. It's just so weird I should be mad at you right now but I'm not. Part of me likes you even more now." You just kept laughing at yourself. You were totally drunk off your ass. You didn't even realize you said you liked him out loud.

"Wait did you just say you like me more now? So you actually did like me before?" Kol smiled at you. You were mad at yourself for saying that out loud but glad you got Kol to perk up a bit. You noticed him moving a bit closer to you.

"Maybe" the alcohol was really kicking in. You felt more confident than you had in a long while.

Kol leaned down a bit so you two were closer together "Does that mean I still have a chance?"

"Maybe." You saw him glance down a few times to stare at your lips too. You both were waiting for someone else to make the first move. You were as close as you two could get without touching.

Tired of the waiting, Kol closed the gap between you. He pulled you closer by your wrists before moving his hands to the side of your face. Your hands ran up through his short brown hair. You could already taste the whiskey on him. It didn't take you long before you both were gasping for air and had to pull apart slightly. Neither of you could seem to decide what to say next.

You broke the silence, "You know on second thought I might need a walk home. My place is just two blocks over."

Kol pulled away from you and laughed. He quickly grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. He smiled and held his hand out to you "Well then, lead the way."

I just want to say thanks again to @hellish-ramblings-of-an-emo for helping me edit these and get these first few chapters out here. You have been such an inspiration to me and you make me want to write more everyday!

Also thank you to all the people who have been liking this story and I’ll be posting new chapter from now on every week! I would also love to take request for fic ideas to help me fill up this blog with stories.

[emachinescat]

Wind + Water - Tree in the Road

A MacGyver Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 12 / alt. 5 - hostage situation

Summary: AU of 2x21.  The bank robbers make their escape with Mac, but this time there isn’t a tree in the road to slow them down.  The rest of the team arrive at the marina just in time to see the robbers procuring a boat - and they have every intention of taking their hostage with them.

Characters: Mac, Jack, Riley, Bozer, Matty, the robbers from 2x21 (apparently their names are Booth, Pike, Dean and Ash)

Words: 4,129

Note: The Spanish is a mixture of my own adventure learning the language (I’m getting there) and a more advanced translator than Google.  Hopefully there aren’t any mistakes, if so - I apologize to any Spanish speakers.

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

“So, for the record, this wasn’t part of the deal,” Angus MacGyver informed his captors testily as he carefully steered the stolen Chevrolet down the narrow, debris strewn backroad toward San Juan Marina and Boat Rentals.  Even though his eyes were on the road, he kept the gun pointed at him in his peripheral vision.  He felt the eyes of the four bank robbers on him, so he continued, very aware that no appeal to logic or conscience that he made at this point would have any effect, largely because these men had depleted stores of both.  Plus, they were desperate.  “I said I’d get you out with the money if you left all the hostages behind,” he continued, then added pointedly, “All including me.”  

One of the three robbers in the backseat, Pike, leaned forward to give their hostage a hearty slap on the back, which sent waves of agony shooting through his battered body.  Mac’s sides, stomach, and back felt every kick and weighted punch, and his mouth tasted like blood.  “Guess you shoulda been more specific,” he taunted, and Mac glanced back long enough to see the amusement on the man’s face.

“Honestly,” said the leader – his followers had called him Booth – “After giving us a glimpse of what you’re capable of, you really think we’d just let you go?”  His tone made it clear that it wouldn’t have mattered if Mac had drawn out and made them sign an extensive contract expressly stating that he was to be left behind with the other hostages, nothing about his predicament would have changed.  He’d gotten them out of a seemingly impossible situation, he’d made himself a valuable asset, and if there was one thing Mac understood about desperate people, it was that once they had something they saw as an advantage, they would never let it go.

The realization left a distinctly sour feeling in Mac’s stomach. He’d been seen and used as a tool before – in the army, he was a bomb defuser; for Phoenix, he was a kind of real-life troubleshooter.  But even in the army, he’d still been a person whose life mattered.  And now, he knew he was valued for so much more than just his skill set by his friends.  

Here, though, with these four men who looked at him with a kind of contemptuous greed in their eyes, he was nothing but a tool, something to be used to their advantage, over and over, until his usefulness had run out, and then he would be discarded like a broken drill bit.  To Booth, Pike, and the others, Mac was less than human, and it made him feel dirty and used and caused his chest to tighten anxiously despite his cool demeanor.  He knew he had to find a way to get away, and soon.  Otherwise, one of two equally unfortunate things was going to happen to him: Either he would be used to bargain their way off the island and then, as soon as they were safely away, he’d be shot and tossed overboard, or they would decide to keep and use him, and his life would become a living hell.  Neither option was a possibility that Mac was willing to entertain, so he would keep his eyes out for the first chance of escape.  

Noting once again the scattering of wreckage in and lining the road, Mac found himself hoping for a large piece of debris – perhaps a fallen tree or power line – would end up in their path.  If they ended up having to get out of the car for any reason, that might give him the chance to plan an escape.  Until then, with the five of them in such close quarters, with all but Mac armed, it was too risky to try anything.  He’d wait for his opportunity, and then make his move.

***

Mac’s opportunity for escape never came, and as he reluctantly directed the vehicle into the marina, the knot it his stomach had imploded into a cavernous pit.  Real tendrils of fear radiated through him, and a furious sense of injustice made his knuckles white and his fingers cramp from the grip he maintained on the steering wheel.  Normally when he was out in the field and in a risky situation, he’d end up finding what he needed to make an escape or at the very least to put a significant hitch in the bad guy’s plan.  It was something he’d come to take for granted, he realized, this bit of luck, that he always had something to work with.  This time, he hadn’t been asking for much – just a piece of debris, a block in the road, on an island ravaged by a natural disaster!  Something should have stood in their way.  The statistical probability of the road being blocked at some point in the twenty-minute drive – especially considering the situation in Puerto Rico – was incredibly high.  He’d counted on that blockage.

And while there had been a couple of branches scattered in their path, none were large enough to hold them up for long at all, and at no point had Mac been allowed out of the car.  In the back of his mind, he remembered what Matty had said to him when she had first taken over.  She didn’t want to be there when Mac’s luck ran out.  He’d been quick to assure her that it wasn’t luck, that he was good at what he did, but now he had his doubts.  If he wasn’t given anything to work with at all, how was he supposed to do what he was so good at?

Still, Angus MacGyver had never been one to give up, and he continued to keep his eyes peeled for anything at all he might be able to use to his advantage.  Even if he couldn’t escape here and now, he would find a way to survive and get back to his friends.  He always did.  

“Stop here.”

Mac did as he was told, putting the car in park and waiting for further instructions.  The gun was still trained on him, and he knew that none of his other captors would hesitate to put a bullet in him from behind if he made one move they didn’t like.  “Dean, grab the kid,” Booth snapped, and the youngest of the robbers, the one who had been gearing up to kill all of the hostages and who couldn’t be any older than Mac himself, got out of the car, went around to Mac’s door, pulled the hostage out of the seat and shoved him forward.  Mac forced himself not to fight back, because Dean’s gun was now pressed into the small of his back, and his voice was deadly as he ordered, “Move.”

The marina was fairly deserted, which would have been odd any other time, but it was midday and most people were either already out on the water or further inland, helping with cleanup and rebuilding.  The only person in sight was the young woman working boat rentals.  She had an open, kind face with eyes that had seen their fair share of suffering – it was a look Mac had seen in Carlos’s more vulnerable moments, and in the eyes of everyone he’d met while on the island.

“Hola,” she greeted, a bit flustered at the new arrivals.  “¿Te puedo ayudar?”  Mac thought that she probably didn’t see a lot of business nowadays.  Tourists were the ones who rented boats more often than not – the locals usually had their own – and tourism had plummeted since the hurricane.  Mac noticed that the bank robbers had hidden their weapons, other than the one at Mac’s back, and to the girl it must have looked like Mac and Dean were just walking close together, side by side.  Maybe she thought they were a couple.  Mac made sure his face was neutral, not wanting to give anything away and put this poor girl in danger.  If only the marina had been deserted, with no one else in the crosshairs!  

“Do I look like I speak Spanish?” Booth snapped impatiently.  

The girl blinked, eyes wide, taken aback by the rudeness.  “I – I’m sorry,” she stammered in heavily accented English.  Mac’s heart went out to her even as he felt his revulsion for his captors grow.  It literally would have expended the same amount of energy to treat the girl with an ounce of respect.  These men were assholes just because they could be. 

“We need a boat,” Booth ordered briskly.  “Now.”

“Bien – ah, okay.”  She looked scared that her accidental slip was going to get her yelled at again.  “Our skippers are not on site at the moment, and most of our boats are being repaired.  We do have one –”

“We’ll take it,” Booth growled, and the girl flinched back at the harshness of his tone.  Tears forming in her eyes, she glanced around briefly at the other men in the party, her eyes landing on Mac last.  He offered her a sympathetic half-smile, knowing that the girl – Mia, her name tag said – was probably having her worst day on the job yet.  At least she didn’t know the true colors of the difficult customers she was dealing with.  

As if worried Mac was trying to tip Mia off, Dean tightened his grip on Mac’s arm and rammed the barrel of the gun painfully into his back.  Mac didn’t react other than to break eye contact with their hostess, who abruptly got back to her task.  “Do you have a boating license that I can see?”  Her dark eyes plainly showed she was afraid of the answer – afraid of what would happen if they did not have the proper documentation and she had to tell them no.

“I don’t have a damn license,” Booth answered, impatience rising with his voice.  

“Lo siento – I’m sorry, you can’t rent a boat without a skipper if you don’t have a license.”  At the fury on her tormentors’ faces, her eyes darted desperately to Mac, as if she had sensed he wasn’t like the others and would step out and ask his friends to give it a rest.  Not wanting to risk her life, Mac felt guilt rise in him as he pointedly avoided her gaze.  Her voice thick with emotion, she regrouped and offered, “But I can call and have someone here within the hour to take you out.”

Booth lost his temper completely.  Slamming his fist down on the counter, he leaned over the cowering girl and hissed in a deadly tone that brooked no argument, “You will get us a boat now.”  Mia stood frozen in shock, and Booth glanced back over his shoulder at his three men and their hostage.  Collectively, they came to a silent agreement – obviously, the subtle approach wasn’t working, and they were running out of time.  With deft movement, so seamless it could have been rehearsed, Dean let go of Mac’s arm and shoved him into Booth, who twisted his greedy, filthy hand in Mac’s hair for the second time that day.  Mac grunted in pain as his head was yanked back and stilled his instinctive struggling as the sun-warmed barrel of Booth’s gun found the left carotid artery in Mac’s neck.  “If you don’t,” Booth added grimly, “I’m going to kill him right before your eyes.”  

Mia’s eyes darted to Mac’s once more and he saw the barely controlled terror just beneath the surface.  She hesitated, and the gun jabbed deeper into Mac’s neck as the safety clicked off, and Mac fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as his heart jumped into overdrive.  “You’ll be scrubbing his blood off this dock for the next year,” Booth promised, “and you’ll never get it off your pretty little hands.”

Mac thought for a terrifying moment that Mia was going to pass out or break down, as she swayed slightly on the spot, but then she steeled herself, an inner strength that Mac was proud to see flowing into her.  She straightened her spine, offered a small, scared smile that was probably meant to be reassuring at Mac, and nodded curtly.  “Okay,” she said in a thin voice, and it barely shook, though her hand did as she reached for a set of keys hanging on the wall behind her.  “Just… don’t hurt him, please.”

As she slowly moved away from the wooden counter and motioned for the men to follow her along the dock to their new vessel, Booth yanked Mac’s head back fiercely and whispered, “I knew you would come in handy in some way,” and then shoved Mac forward, finally releasing his hair – Mac’s scalp ached and his neck had already developed a painful stiffness from being twisted back in such an uncomfortable position. The gun moved to the back of Mac’s head.  The safety remained off.

Everything moved far too quickly after that.  It seemed that no time had passed until Mac was being forced onto the deck of a small craft barely big enough for the five of them.  Mac graciously offered to stay behind, and received a crack to the back of the head with the pistol butt in response.  At some point, one of the robbers – Ash, Mac thought his name was – had stepped in and tied Mac’s hands behind his back with sturdy nautical rope.  Mac hadn’t had a single opportunity to attempt escape throughout the whole process, as not only was Booth’s gun still at the base of his neck, but Pike’s own weapon was on the helpless Mia who stood on the dock, tears streaming down her face as she watched the men prepare to leave with their hostage.  Mac knew that if he even thought about doing something stupid, she would be killed without a second thought.

And then many things happened at once – a battered orange car swerved into the parking lot, the sound of screaming sirens not far behind.  Mac couldn’t help but grin when he saw who jumped out: his team, Riley, Bozer, and Jack – who had death in his eyes.  Mac had seen that look many times before.  Someone had threatened his partner.  Mac didn’t envy Booth and his goons once Jack Wyatt Dalton got his hands on them.

Jack already had his own gun drawn as he raced onto the dock.  His boots thunked hollowly against the boards as he sprinted for the boat, keen sights already on the bastard who had his paws on his kid.

But Booth had all the power here, with Mac in his clutches, and he knew it. And with the innocent civilian being held at gunpoint, he’d doubly covered his ass.  Mac’s hope at seeing his team faltered when he realized that Jack’s being here really didn’t change a thing.  It would just make this so much worse, because Jack would be forced to watch as Mac was taken, and when he could finally chase after them, it would probably be too late.  As if to solidify this knowledge, Mac felt Booth’s hand twine in his hair, again – what was it with this guy and Mac’s hair, anyway? – and the gun was back beneath his jaw, Mac could feel the artery rapidly pulsing against the unyielding metal.

“You make one more step, and Boy Wonder here dies,” Booth shouted right in Mac’s ear.  Mac locked eyes with Jack, who stuttered obediently to a stop, Riley and Bozer following suit.  Even now, Mac knew that his partner was desperately searching for any opening, any shot he could take to save his friend.

“I’d put that gun down, if I were you,” Ash called out.

Jack glared at him, unrelenting.  “Who invited Papa Smurf to the party?” he joked, but Mac clearly saw the anxiety in every line on his face.  

A shot rang out.  Mia screamed.  A smoking hole had appeared inches from her feet: The bullet had buried itself into the planks.  “He said,” Booth repeated, “put down your gun.”  He punctuated his words with a brutal yank of Mac’s hair.  “Next time, I put a bullet in your friend. No more warnings.”

Loathing poured off of Jack in waves, but he did as he was told and lowered the weapon, though he didn’t put it down.  The sirens drew nearer, and Mac knew his captors were going to have to make their move before the police arrived, or things would get even messier.  “Ash, start the damn boat,” Booth ordered.  

The man did as he was told, inserting the key, and the engine spluttered, coughed, and fell silent.  He tried again.  Nothing.

“What the hell, man?” Dean barked, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.  

“I’m trying!” Ash shot back, making another attempt to start the motor.  

For a split second, Mac felt Booth twist behind him, trying to get a look at what was going on, and in that moment, Pike was distracted as well.  Just one look away from their hostages was all that Mac and Jack needed – maybe the universe was looking out for them, after all.  While Booth was distracted, both his grip on Mac and on the gun momentarily slackened, and Mac inched over and made himself as small as possible to give Jack a better shot at the man behind him.  The gun was far too close to his face for Mac to lash out himself; now was a time to stand aside and let Jack do what he did best.

In the span of five seconds, Jack brought his gun back up and shot both Pike and Booth in quick succession.  He hit Pike first in the gun hand, and the man toppled over the side of the boat, howling in agony.  Booth’s bullet too had been perfectly timed and aimed – it hit him in the side of the head as he turned back around to deal with his hostage.  He dropped, the gun clattering from his hand, dead before he hit the ground.  It had been a tight shot, and quite the gamble considering the gun that had still been at Mac’s throat, but Jack had timed it perfectly, and Mac never doubted him once. 

***

The next half hour was a blur of police sirens – “‘Bout time you got here,” Jack griped testily – painful but welcome hugs from his friends, and a collective promise of painkillers, a four-way lecture, a hasty debrief, and much-needed rest, in that exact order, on their flight to their next op.  

Jack had been livid, insisting that Mac needed more than on-the-go treatment, but Matty was firm – this op couldn’t wait.  Her fierce eyes did soften when she got a good look at the state that her agent was in, though, and assured him that he was getting a thorough check by medical the second they got home.  Until then, she ordered, with no room for argument, he was to rest and recuperate, and so help her God, if he purposefully threw himself into this kind of mess again.... She didn’t actually finish her threat, which made it all the scarier, and Mac had promised to be good on the next mission.  (Nobody really believed him, though.)

Secretly, though, he was glad that he would get a chance to rest on the flight, because every single bruise, cut, ache, and pain called out, vying for his attention.  A cursory check by Jack and a frazzled EMT revealed that though no ribs were broken, he had severe bruising along his back, sides, and torso.  Booth had chipped a tooth when he’d kicked Mac in the mouth, and Mac did not look forward to spending some quality time with the dentist when he got home.  And there was a nasty, bloody welt on the back of his head from where he’d been pistol-whipped.  

Added to that, his entire body, from his scalp to the tips of his toes ached with a bone-deep weariness that came from the physical abuse and stress of his time as a hostage.  As Jack had reminded him on more than one occasion when Mac had tried to brush similar experiences off, just because it wasn’t his first rodeo, it didn’t make it any less traumatic for his mind or his body – he was still human, after all.  Now, Mac found himself reluctantly agreeing – emotionally, mentally, and physically, he felt in that moment every single thing that had been done to him from the second he’d snuck into that bank.

As usual, though, Mac filed away everything he was feeling to deal with – or even more appealingly, to not deal with – later.  

While Matty finalized the details of their flight, Mac tied up a few loose ends of his own.  First, he called Carlos and spoke to him for a few moments, reassuring his friend that he was really okay and getting the same reassurances in return.  Mac wanted to see Carlos and his family one more time before they took off, but Carlos was just now being released from the hospital, and the Phoenix team was on a very tight schedule.  He did promise to come back and visit soon, and was able to reveal the exciting news that Matty was sending another team in their place, to continue to help with rebuilding.

Next, Mac made his way over to Mia, who was sitting on the edge of an ambulance, her sandaled feet dangling off the side and a bottle of water cradled in her hands.  “Hola,” Mac greeted, and she offered him a small smile.  Mac realized that she was even younger than he’d thought – she couldn’t be more than eighteen or nineteen years old.  “I’m, uh, really sorry about everything,” he stammered, feeling that his words were thoroughly inadequate.

“You have nothing to apologize for!” she exclaimed, dark eyebrows furrowing over kind hazel eyes.  

Mac didn’t agree – as always, that incessant feeling that he could have done more reared its ugly head – but he changed the subject anyway, because Riley and Bozer were approaching, and he knew his time was running short.  “Quiero darte las gracias.” It was important to him that he thanked her in her own language, after the way Booth had treated it.  She deserved better.

She tilted her head, dark brown ponytail swinging with the motion, but a soft smile touched her lips at his fluent but accented Spanish.  “¿Para qué?”

Unable to call the exact words to mind in Spanish, courtesy, he knew, of the light concussion he almost certainly had, he switched back to English apologetically, but Mia didn’t seem to mind at all.  “That was a risky play,” he admitted, “giving them the keys to a boat that didn’t work.  But it was brilliant – and it bought my friend enough time to take control of the situation.  Great job thinking ahead.  You saved my life.”

A brilliant blush colored her cheeks at Mac’s praise.

***

Twenty minutes and a couple of painkillers later, Mac found himself curled up in his seat on the Phoenix jet waiting for the inevitable lecture to start.  He know it had been a stupid and dangerous risk, sneaking into the bank and making himself a hostage.  But he knew that his actions had saved lives, and he would make the same choice if anything like it happened again. 

Jack dropped down into the seat beside him.  “You look like hell, brother,” he observed.  Jack Dalton didn’t sugar coat anything.

“Yeah, well,” Mac admitted, too tired to put up his normal unaffected front.  “Feel like it too.”

The lines around Jack’s eyes deepened.  “The kids are already settling in for the flight,” he said.  “Get some sleep?”

“I thought you guys had a lecture all primed and ready,” Mac muttered, already feeling his eyelids dragging themselves down.  He was exhausted, from everything he’d been through, the pain, and the drugs.  

“Aaah,” Jack waved his hand dismissively.  “What’s the point of lecturin’ you if you’re too strung out to actually hear what we’re trying to drill into that big brain of yours?”

Mac quirked a half-smile.  “Or you could just skip the lecture all together.  You know that you would’ve done the exact same thing in my shoes.”

Jack shrugged.  “Maybe, but tryin’ to get you to look after yourself has become a kind of bonding thing for the rest of us.  And it’s fun seeing you squirm.”

Mac groaned.  “You know I never listen.”

A long-suffering sigh.  “And that’s why my hair’s going gray, hoss.”

Letting his eyes fall shut, Mac couldn’t help but squeeze in one last, murmured jab.  “No, it’s definitely an age thing.”

Mac didn’t hear Jack’s indigent retort, or the quiet cackling of Riley and Bozer from the seats behind.  

He was already asleep.

[shyrose57]

2: I will figure it out eventually and that's a promise.

3: Watson is aboustely heart broken and near tears multiple times as well hearing Ran in so much distress and actually crying. Jackie does cry, he attempts multiple times to hug Ran and make it known he's there to comfort him, but it only works sometimes, and when it doesn't work Ran gets scared and tries to get away believing an attacker has gotten him. Grievous is almost like silently grieving, knowing he can't do anything to help his close friend. Cletus feels bad, and since he isnt too good with emotions, focuses on instead attempting to cheer everyone else up. Isaac and Benjamin feel awful as they feel at fault for letting it happen, so to hopefully help they make plans on how to make Ran as comfortable and safe as can be while also getting him to a nearby town they heard about to hopefully reverse it. Charles is doing his damn best to comfort Ran while also distracting him from his own thoughts, which mostly means Charles (and Watson) play the role of story teller for a while. Ranbob is the hardest hit by it, he's suffering so much because he so badly just wants to go over and hug his little brother and comfort him, tell him that it'll all be ok and that Bobby would protect him. But also knows he can't because he knows that would most likely do nothing but make it worse. For a while he spends his time blocking his ears and wrapped in a comfort blanket trying to comfort himself, as everyone else tend to his suffering brother. One thing that makes it harder is that Ran begins to purr to himself in a vain attempt to comfort himself (cause I personally like to think Enderman hybrids are like cats and purr like them, when their happy, content, comfortable, but also to soothe themselves and heal wounds), when Ranbob knows Ran's never purred, so knowing he's so desperate to try it now hurts him. 

You will get some comfort, like Watson manages to convince Ranbob to at least hug Ran, and Ranbob manages to purr alongside Ran a bit, which does actually help to calm Ran down. Ran getting wrapped up with the fluffiest blanket they have and always having Watson, Jackie, or Grievous by his side. With Jackie tending to hold his hand. 

4: All of the above. Sudden touch can be overwhelming to Ranbob at times, especially when he's not doing well mentally. Also while in this state, touch reminds him of the desperate grabbing and touching of the people he killed that tried to escape or fend him off. And Dream was able to hurt Ranbob by starving and dehydrating him of course, but when Ranbob was being particularly disobedient and tried to fight back Dream would often take control and cut or stab Ranbob then gave back control as punishment. 

10: It does get better! Idk if I already said but Kelalen is actually where they get the antidote for Rans blindness potion! And when their given it for free and it works, they become very grateful to Adler and Lucia (the one who actually convinced Adler to give them the potion in the first place cause it was the only one left). And a few days after they arrive they actually decide to explore the town, where they meet Siren and get more information on Dream and who he was, they also get their weapons and armor repaired by them. But while talking with Siren, Cletus and Grievous sneak off and run into Atlas, then Cletus and Grievous agree to help Atlas with his prank. But by the end of their second week in Kelalen the group starts to truly enjoy their stay, Ranbob often saying how it kind of reminds him of Mizu before everything happened. 

12: Thats funny though and is exactly how I'd want to be seen.

13: *CLAPS HANDS* OH BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU. I RECENTLY TOLD MY FRIEND ABOUT RANBOB SEEING HIS DEAD FRIENDS AND FAMILY BUT FAILED TO TELL THEM IT WASNT ACTUALLY PART OF THE STORY. SO THEY TOOK IT LITTERALY AND THEY HAVE GIVEN ME IDEAS, WHILE ALSO HELPING ME REALIZE THAT THIS COULD ACTUALLY BE USED TO SET UP FOR RANBOB MOVING PAST HIS TRAUMAS AND CAN LEAD TO MORE FLUFF AND ANGST. SO NOW IT IS PART OF THE STORY, WITH CHANGES THAT IT HAPPENED DURING A DREAM AND HE DIDNT BELIEVE IT AND CONSIDERED IT A CRUEL JOKE BY FATE ITSELF AT FIRST. AND YES BY AT FIRST I MEAN THIS HAPPENS MANY MORE TIMES.

Also my friend has a message for you, "HahA THEY BETTER THANK ME I SET THEM UP FOR MORE MISERY 😈😈 /j" (I wanna be safe so if you don't know /j means that their joking)

14: Im not doing Foolish and Dream brothers because I personally don't like/get it. But I was thinking maybe they meet Foolish after Mripat tells them that there was a member of the SMP who was said to be a god and immortal. And after some long conversations they decide to go hunt for this apparently immortal god. Which takes a while since no one actually knows where he is, just that he likes deserts, and have to go off possible sightings or hints in history books. And when they finally meet him they manage to learn about totems (which they previously didn't know about) and even get some. They also learn that infact even during the SMP time no one quite knew what Dream was, and learns the ways the SMP tried to permanently get rid of him. Foolish is also devastated to know that Dream infact survived and becomes determined to help them. Even offering his help that if they ever go back to Mizu to face Dream, he'll come along and help in anyway he can. 

15: I like to imagine Edward remembers Ranboo as the young troubled enderman that he basically adopted and took care of. So Edward sees Ranboo in both Ran and Ranbob, so he offers his help and advice. Basically becoming their Grandad, telling stories about everything he's seen. Especially about Ranboo because Ranbob is so curious about his ancestor he just cant help but ask. One convo I've been particularly thinking about goes something like, "Edward: Older one, what do you think your brother thinks about you? Ranbob: I..I think he doesnt like me, and that he wants me gone. Edward: Hmm, your wrong. Ranbob: What? Edward: When I look at Ran, I see a child, not an adult yet, scarred, scared and traumatized. A child that wishes you two were closer, that he could forgive you and wants to believe you, just so you two could be family again. But is afraid too, for he already has a family, that he is terrified of losing, and is scared if he attempts to trust you again that they may leave him. But make no mistake, your brother wants to make amends, your brother cares about you and wants you happy. He knows deep down that he can trust you, and that you are innocent, but you all must help him acknowledge those parts, and stand by him, helping him walk when needed, as he traverses his own nightmares." AKA I really want Edward to be the reason Ranbob realizes that Ran does want to be family again but needs help. Cause if I had to describe the brothers current positions with their trauma it'll be, Ranbob-Knows he has trauma and is trying to get better and live with it, willingly getting help. Ran-Is fucking drowning in trauma cause he refuses to acknowledge he has it and hides it well most of the time, also doesn't ask for help. 

2: I fear the day.

3: Hahaha, ow, ow, ow. That, overall, is...heartbreaking. At the same time though, it’s sweet to see everyone pitching in to do their best and help him. We got it with Ranbob, now we get it with Ran.

I am curious, though. From what you’ve said, Blindness potions don’t wear off immediately? Why’s that?

4: *Chants* Please punch Dream. Please punch Dream. Please punch Dream. How do the fishermen deal with this, and help Ranbob?

10: Oh, god, Ran’s blind when they arrive in town. That’s definitely a high tension situation. Not only have you got him out of commission, but everyone else high strung from it, and probably having their protective instincts in overdrive when they randomly get treated hostilely. What exactly does an antidote for blindness consist of? Do most potions have antidotes, or counters? Is milk no longer used, or is that not a thing in the AU? It does sound nice that they all end up making friends later on though. How does Ran adjust to having his sight back? And, y’know, having everyone see him like that, and his brother comfort him(if they aren’t on good terms at this point, the timeline’s confusing me a bit)

12: Throughout this conversation, every time I read something sad, the image struck me, and honestly, it’s what you deserve. If these keeps up, I’m gonna start inserting these little 🏹s every time you hurt my heart. 

13: I’m being conspired against. Does everyone see this? Brothers Anon and their friend are conspiring to break my heart. Such gremlins. What did I ever do to you two?

Also, you can tell your friend that from this point on, I will closely associate them with a tiny, purple, cackling imp. 

14: Huh. Why do they want to find Foolish? Curiosity? To learn more about the Smp? About Dream? Sounds like it has a lot of potential to be quite the interesting encounter. And, since they didn’t previously know about the totems, they probably wouldn’t notice if one activated in a certain situation where it’s popped...do with that what you will.

15: Anon, I love all of this. Tell me more about Grandpa Edward. Does he fondly look back to Ranboo being polite and quiet while Ranbob and Ran cause havoc in the background? Does he bake them snacks and tell them about Ranboo’s adventures, and how much he loved to mine-which, in hindsight, is kind of funny, considering you just mentioned that so few people follow Skeppy because of the mining, but apparently their ancestor did that thing for fun.

[ddixons-angel]

Fated: Season 4

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: I’m gonna sound like such a broken record in my author notes for each chapter of at least half of Season 4, but I am really nervous about these next few chapters >~< I don’t know why, I just feel really insecure about the original idea that happens next.. sighhh please let me know what you think!!

Chapter 3

Letting the dagger fall out of her hands, Gloria runs over to Daryl as he falls from the gunshot. She kneels down next to him, letting him lean back against her. Daryl groans at the pain in his shoulder and Gloria grabs his bag with the bandages they had scavenged earlier. 

“Here, let me.” Gloria says, her voice soft.

She gently moves the collar of his shirt to the side to inspect the wound, relief flooding through her when she sees that it was only a graze to his shoulder. Gloria starts to patch up his wound when Glenn and Maggie run up to them, holding their rifles with worried expressions.

“Hey, you guys okay?” Maggie asks, a little out of breath.

Daryl nods as Gloria finishes up with his injury, “yeah, we’re okay.”

He gets up from the ground with Gloria holding his arm, she’d also picked up his crossbow, refusing to let him hold the weapon when he was hurt. Glenn picks up Gloria’s dagger she had dropped then looks at his pocket watch.

“It’s gonna be 12 soon, we should get going.” he calls out to the rest of them.

The others nod and pick up their bags and start heading back out to where they had parked the car. Glenn opens the trunk to the car and places his bag inside, waiting for the others to do the same with their bags. He slams the trunk closed then hands Gloria her dagger back but not without shooting her a scolding look. Gloria sighs, knowing exactly what this was about then goes to join Daryl in the back seat of the car. Glenn starts the car and the group is silent on the drive back to the prison. Throughout the ride, Glenn keeps glancing in the rearview mirror to Gloria when he isn’t able to hold it in any longer.

“What the hell was that?” Glenn blurts out in Korean, causing all three of the others to look at him, Maggie and Daryl’s faces full of confusion.

“What?” Gloria rolls her eyes as she replies in Korean, annoyed that he’s choosing to do this now.

“I saw you, you were going to stab yourself! What the hell was that?!” Glenn fumes, getting visibly more angry. 

“What choice did I have? They were going to kill him!” Gloria retorts, referring to Daryl.

Maggie looks back and gives Daryl a ‘what do we do’ look and Daryl shifts and shrugs at her as the siblings keep fighting. It didn’t help that they didn’t know what they were even saying so they couldn’t diffuse the situation either. 

“You were gonna kill yourself then, is that it? What if we didn’t come in time to save you, you could be seriously hurt right now!” Glenn yells as he drives. 

“I knew what I was doing!” Gloria yells back, done with this conversation.

“No you didn’t! You were going to kill yourself to save someone else!” he points out, his face turning red.

“And you would have done the exact same for her!” Gloria calls him out, referring to Maggie, knowing it’s true. 

Glenn grips tightly on the steering wheel, fuming from their argument but says nothing else. Sensing that it was the end of their heated discussion, Maggie reaches out and puts her hand on Glenn’s arm, a soft smile on her face wanting to somehow soothe him without words. Gloria turns her attention to Daryl, he’d been looking out the window while chewing on his thumbnail. She sighs at his habit, knowing he only did it when he felt really uncomfortable. She reaches out to him, taking the hand of the thumb he’d been chewing.

“You okay?” Gloria asks in a hushed whisper.

Daryl nods, looking at her, squeezing her hand in reassurance. Glenn waits for Carl to open the gate to the prison before driving onto the premises, towards the building. Once the car is parked, the four of them get out of the car, Glenn and Gloria glaring at each other. 

“You’re not going on anymore runs.” Glenn tells her in English before popping open the trunk and taking a few bags with him into the building.

Gloria, still annoyed and angry at him, rolls her eyes and grabs the remainder of the bags from the trunk, slamming it down to a hard close before following Glenn into the building. Maggie and Daryl share a look of not knowing what to do before they both follow the siblings into their home. 

Hershel greets Glenn with a smile when he sees him walk into the main area outside the cell block but his smile is replaced with a confused frown when he notices Glenn and now Gloria’s expressions. The two had put the bags on one of the tables, both crossing their arms and looking away from each other. Daryl and Maggie make their way into the room, everyone’s attention drawn to the four who had just walked in. 

“Maggie, what happened?” Hershel asks, turning to his daughter as he knows he wouldn’t be getting a proper answer from either sibling. 

“We ran into some thugs on our run and they tried to steal Gloria and Daryl’s things.” Maggie explains.

The story causes Carol to walk up to the group, “are you all okay?”

Daryl nods but Gloria looks at him, guilt written all over her face, “Daryl... got shot.” 

“What?!” Nina pipes up and rushes over to him, “oh my God, are you okay?”

“‘M fine.” Daryl says, backing away from Nina before she can touch him, “was jus’ a graze.”

“Hershel, can you check on him?” Gloria says and adds before Daryl can protest, “I was an emotional mess when I patched him up, I just want to make sure.” 

Daryl sighs at her words, and Hershel nods, both of them understanding, “come with me, Daryl.”

Hershel starts walking first and Daryl hesitates until he catches Gloria’s eyes, giving in when he sees her eyes welling with tears. He walks past her to follow Hershel, but not before giving her a small hug and a kiss on her forehead. The group had turned the infirmary into an actual doctor’s office rather than having Hershel, Gloria or Caleb, a doctor from Woodbury, check on people in their cells. Carol goes up to Gloria and puts a hand on her shoulder for comfort. Gloria forces a small smile for the older woman, nodding at her. 

“So, how did you guys get caught up with the thugs anyway?” Sasha asks, genuinely curious, leaning on the wall.

“We split up to cover more ground, and they ambushed me and Daryl when we were done raiding a pharmacy.” Gloria says, looking down feeling ashamed of being so careless. 

“Daryl wouldn’t get caught off guard like that, it must have been your fault.” Nina says, glaring and pointing at Gloria, “you distracted him.”

“That’s not how Daryl is!” Carol says, frowning at the other girl.

“Really? Then tell me how on every single run Daryl goes on, he comes back perfectly fine but the one time he goes with Gloria, he gets hurt?” Nina counters Carol’s defense. 

Sasha scoffs at her, crossing her arms, “you wanna know why? Because shit happens. It doesn’t matter if it’s his first time going on a run with or without Gloria.” 

“Why are you so adamant on blaming her, anyway?” Carol takes the chance to call Nina out on her actions.

“Because I know that Daryl isn’t careless or reckless, but I can’t say the same about her!” Nina shouts. 

Her words hit Gloria like a brick. She thinks back to when they were scavenging the pharmacy, Daryl had already tried to warn her about hearing something outside but she just brushed him off. If she had listened, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. 

“She’s right... it was my fault.” Gloria sighs, looking down, not able to face any one of them.

Carol’s eyes soften as she looks at Gloria, “no, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, Carol, it was.” Gloria finally looks up at her, “I... Daryl warned me that he heard something when we were in the pharmacy but I... I didn’t listen...”

Nina hides a smirk as she scoffs, “I don’t think you should go on any more runs, for everyone else’s safety.”

“That’s not for you to decide.” Carol says, eyeing Nina. 

“Glenn already decided that when we got back.” Gloria says in a small voice, making Carol turn her attention to Glenn, looking at him disapprovingly.

“I-I... that’s not what I meant!” Glenn stutters to defend himself. 

Gloria shrugs, trying to play it off, “it doesn’t matter... I should go tend to my shift.” 

Glenn watches helplessly and guiltily as Gloria walks out the building to go to her 'shift' on the fence. They all knew that she didn’t have a shift, when she agreed to go on the run, she’d passed them off to Tyreese. She just wanted to be alone, let out her emotions by killing some walkers. Gloria spends at least an hour killing walkers on the fence when Daryl approaches her. He doesn’t call out to her or anything, he watches for a moment then starts to help her clear out the walkers on the fence. She turns to him when she notices he’s out there with her.

“You shouldn’t be out here, you need to rest.” Gloria holds his forearm, stopping him from moving.

“Told ya, ‘m fine. It’s jus’ a graze anyway, ya saw it.” Daryl says, “‘nd ya shouldn’ be out here either, ya don’ have a shift.”

Gloria sighs and nods, “I know...” 

Daryl places his hand on the one that’s already on his forearm, he hesitates to speak then sighs, “Glenn’s right... I don’ want ya going on runs anymore either.”

There’s a tear at her heart at his words. The realization that Daryl had blamed her for getting hurt weighed heavily on her and there was only one thing she could really do about it. 

“Okay...” Gloria says, looking down and nodding.

Daryl furrows his brows in confusion; acceptance was not one of the reactions he’d expected from her. He expected her to get mad at him like she did with Glenn. He had been dreading an argument with her over the restriction. Her accepting it so easily was not like her, and even though they weren’t yelling at each other, Gloria being so quiet and compliant worried him even more.

“Ya sure you’re okay with not going on runs anymore?” Daryl asks, his thumb caressing her knuckles.

Of course she wasn’t, but she’d caused enough.

“Yeah...” Gloria sighs and forces a smile on her face as she looks up at Daryl, “it’s for the best, right?”

He gently grabs her arm and pulls her towards him, wrapping his arms around her, cradling the back of her head in his hand. Gloria snuggles into his embrace, snaking her arms around his torso. 

“I just want ya safe.” Daryl whispers in her ear.

Gloria just nods, accepting it although she knew he was using her safety as an excuse to comfort her. For the sake of everyone else who went on runs, she wouldn’t go on runs anymore. That’s how she would be able to protect her family, it was the only way she knew she wouldn’t cause any more damage. 

---

Next Chapter

As I said before, I don’t know whether this chapter or the future events will be liked by you guys, maybe it’s the fact that I made Nina such an annoying little shit... lol please let me know what you thought here, all the comments/critique you guys give me help a ton and motivate me to continue posting, so I really have to thank you guys for that! 

Also... should I add ‘annoying OC’ to the warnings for Nina? LOL 

I hope everyone stays safe and healthy, please don’t panic, we will get through this!

And as always, I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d list to be added/removed!):

@twdeadfanfic​ | @fandomfanatic97​ | @crossbowking​ | @watchmeaspire​ | @spidergirla5​ | @kamieshep​ | @letsstarsfalling​ | @molethemollie​ | @alicewinchester99​ | @neilox​ | @womanup22​ | @jodiereedus22​ | @theonlyone-meeeee​ | @theunofficialduke​ | @inlovewdxx​ | @delightfullykrispypeach​

[thepancakeboi]

53. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Divergence AU Part V

Previous | Next (coming...soon) | AU list | Prompt source

Fanfic under cut

12/10

“Do you really think the others will be okay on their own?”

My question, although probably unnecessary, is a valid one. Queen, Noir, Panther, and Fox are going to deal with the IT president, while Mona, Skull, Joker, and I are going to find the third Will Seed that Mona sensed was nearby. I know that we only have a week left to secure the infiltration route, but the idea of us splitting into two different groups is a little concerning.

“Don’t worry, Crow,” Skull replies. “They got this.”

“They aren’t weak,” Mona adds. “That letter is as good as ours!”

“My apologies,” I say, adjusting my white gloves out of habit. Even if they know who I am and what I’ve done, Joker is the only one who has seen my other outfit. I shouldn’t care what they think of me, but I’ve kept it a well-guarded secret for so long. Force of habit, I suppose. “Shall we continue?”

Joker nods, taking my hand in his as he leads the way. He’s been doing this ever since that night in Leblanc. I’ve stopped questioning it after the first fifty times. It’s...nice. The rest of the thieves haven’t commented on it yet, nor do they seem confused. Maybe they already knew of Joker’s feelings.

The fight to get into the room is all too simple, largely in part due to Joker’s damn Shiki-Ouji, a Persona that I have come to despise. It, alongside Arsène and Jack Frost, is one of his main Personas. Shiki-Ouji, though, nullifies nearly all of Robin Hood’s attacks...as I found out the hard way during our duel last month. Not even Loki would have been much more help against it. That thing has become the bane of my existence.

I’m just glad Joker doesn’t see me as an enemy.

He leads the way back to the large double doors, slashing the rose vines with unerring grace before pushing the doors open. With this task done, the four of us enter the room. We’re greeted by harsh, indeterminate whispers. Their content means nothing to me-

“I trust no one but myself.”

I recognize that voice. Shido. I grit my teeth as his voice rings and echoes off the walls. The others don’t seem to notice, but it’s as clear as day to me. I tune the others’ voices out as Joker takes the Will Seed from its pedestal, straining to hear the inner thoughts of that bastard. For a few seconds, it remains incoherent whispers, until...

“The enemy is coming...in more ways than one.”

It takes nearly all of my willpower to not react to this. These are his inner thoughts, aren’t they? If that’s the case...could he know? Is Shido starting to realize the suicide-murder shtick was faked, that Ren is still alive and currently traversing his Palace? And...oh no.

In more ways than one.

That can only mean one thing...

Shido knows.

He knows I’m not on his side.

Or maybe it’s his normal paranoia? I can’t be certain. It isn’t like I can ask Shido himself. He’d lie and say he trusts me, the action almost as natural to him as breathing. If he does know, what am I supposed to do...?

“Hey, you okay?”

Mona’s query snaps me out of my thoughts. “I’m fine,” I easily lie. “Just a little nervous, I suppose.”

Skull, the dense idiot that he is sometimes, buys it. “Man, you looked like you’d just seen a ghost! Warn us next time, will ya?”

“I will,” I respond, looking at the others to gauge their reactions. Mona doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to probe further. And Joker...I can’t read him. All I get is the feeling that he sees through my lie. “Anyway, we have the Will Seed. What’s our next move, Joker?”

Joker thinks for a few moments before answering, “There’s nothing else here. Let’s meet up with everyone in the safe room.”

His hand slips back into mine as we leave the room behind us. This close to him, I can finally see that he wasn’t convinced in the slightest. I know he’d try to get me to open up to him if it weren’t for Mona and Skull. Despite this, his eyes plead with me under his mask, trying to get me to tell him what’s wrong. I refuse to look at him as the last statement I hear from that cursed room echoes in my ears:

“The only thing you have to do is follow my order.”

We arrive at the safe room to find the others already there. “How did it go?” Queen asks as Skull and Mona sit down. I choose to stand a little way back from the group, side-eyeing Joker as he rests his head against my shoulder. What does he think he’s doing? Judging by the cheeky smirk on his face, he’s trying to be as distracting as possible.

“Joker got the last Will Seed!” Mona replies, simultaneously answering Queen’s question and taking my attention away from the menace next to me.

“Aw yeah, and we got the fourth letter!” Oracle says. She is beaming as she holds up the envelope for everyone to see, apparently proud of her group’s accomplishments.

“Sweet!” Skull exclaims. “All that’s left is the cleaner dude! Let’s go find him and kick his ass!”

“Wait!” Panther interjects. “We don’t even know where he’d be.”

“Who cares? Can’t we just cause some trouble again?”

“We could, but...”

“Then-”

“As much as I would like to take the cleaner down now, we should wait,” I say before Skull can get another word in edgewise. “He’s stronger than any of the VIP’s we have fought so far.”

“How about tomorrow?” Noir chimes in. “It’s Sunday, so we won’t have school.”

“I agree,” Queen adds before looking at me. “Will you be joining us?”

I wish I had more time to think things through. If only we could wait a few more days. Time, however, is in short supply. “I should be able to, though if anything comes up, I’ll let Joker know,” I say while gently pushing Joker’s face away.

That smirk from before fades away, replaced with a carefully crafted neutral expression. His voice rings with authority as he says, “Sounds like a plan. We’ll meet up tomorrow afternoon.”

Tomorrow afternoon. That’s when the deed will be done. If my revenge plan is going to work, I’m going to have to kill him, for real this time. There’s no going around it. My mind is so preoccupied with planning how to accomplish this that I don’t even notice everyone else has left until I’m startled out of my thoughts by the kiss Joker plants on my cheek. He looks concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“What makes you think it isn’t?” I ask back, dodging his question.

“You seemed tense earlier. And a little scared. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Soon, this will all be over.”

Over in ways neither of us would want, yet it’s the only way this could ever end. This is how it was meant to be from the beginning: with one of us dead.

12/11

I tap my fingers idly against my leg as I wait on one of the catwalks in the engine room. Earlier, I had texted Ren saying that I would be running late and to go on without me. He must have bought it because when I had entered Shido’s Palace, the Phantom Thieves were nowhere to be found. I had told them the cleaner would likely be in the engine room. They must be farther inside.

My suspicions are confirmed a moment later when the group comes walking out, celebrating their recent victory. How delighted they must be now that they have the final letter. That happiness is about to be destroyed. Joker is the one to notice me, of course. He halts, looking up at me. “Crow?” he asks. “What are you doing up there?”

I leap down, doing a flip before landing effortlessly in front of the thieves. Damn Joker’s habits rubbing off on me. I expect to feel some level of anticipation, or maybe regret, but I feel...nothing. I don’t see Ren or Joker in front of me. All I see is another obstacle, blocking my plans from coming to fruition. “Did you really think I would let you leave this place alive?”

“Huh?”

My gun is out, pointed at him in an instant. I won’t give Joker the chance to say another word. Time to pull the trigger.

...except I don’t.

What’s stopping me from firing, from killing this menace? My hesitation wastes valuable time, time that the rest of the thieves use to prepare themselves to fight if necessary. I no longer have the advantage of surprise. Why didn’t I just kill him first? “Keeping you alive was a terrible decision.”

“What’s gotten into you, Akechi?” Queen asks. I don’t miss the dropping of codenames. “You were the one who suggested this plan.”

She’s not wrong. I had been the one to plan most of this heist, due to my knowledge of Shido’s Palace. “Nothing has changed. This camaraderie between us has all been an act.” The lies slip so easily off my tongue, and I find that I’m starting to believe myself. “When Joker started to piece things together, I knew I would have to change my plans, and in order to do that, I had to make him aware of my original plan. I’ve been planning this from the start. You all were simply so foolish as to trust me.”

“All an act...?” Joker asks, hesitant. It’s as if he’s trying to deny the words I’m saying.

I refuse to answer his question, instead deciding to say, “I’ve never shown you my true power, have I? Here, I’ll show you...while you die. Persona!”

I can feel Loki’s presence as two Shadows materialize from thin air. A Cerberus and a Cu Chulainn. Perfect. I direct Loki to use his signature Call of Chaos on the two Shadows. Their complexion turns black and red as their true destructive potential is unleashed. I can hear Cerberus growl as it paws at the ground in anticipation, waiting for my command to kill these wretched thieves.

“What was that?” Oracle asks, voicing everyone’s surprise at Loki’s brief appearance. “That wasn’t Robin Hood.”

“You’re right,” I confirm with a grin, “but that’s the least of your concern. You better not underestimate these two.” I leap back, putting the berserk Shadows between me and the Phantom Thieves. In a mad rush, the two Shadows launch themselves at their foes. I don’t expect the Shadows to win; they’re just meant to wear the enemy down.

Mona’s voice rings over the din of the fight. “Go, Joker! If anyone has a chance of getting through to him, it’s you.”

I see Joker nod, and, before I can even react, he’s using his grappling hook, sailing over the Shadows and landing a few feet away from me. The absolute fool. “You just made a grievous mistake,” I snarl. “You’ll need your teammates if you have any hopes of defeating me.”

He shakes his head. Cocky little shit- “I don’t need to defeat you.”

That catches me off guard. Just what the hell is he planning? “Then what is it? Are you going to abandon your teammates, just like you wanted before when I suggested leaving them to work with me?”

“I’m not abandoning anyone.”

“Oh, is that so? Then maybe we should put an end to our duel, striking and striking again and again until one of us is dead! Unless you’re so spineless that you’ll run away with your tail between your legs. Is that your master plan?”

“No,” he replies, his voice firm. “I love you, and I’m not leaving you.”

I laugh. He’s more foolish than I gave him credit for. “Then tell me, Joker. Will you love me for this?” His eyes widen ever so slightly as I point my gun at his face, aiming right between his eyes. It’s a pale comparison to the terror Sae’s cognition of Ren expressed. He’s too naive to be afraid. “There’s no cognitive double to save you this time.”

Joker, the absolute idiot that he is, doesn’t have the common sense to back down. Why is he just standing there? Move, damnit! It’s as if he’s deaf to my silent pleas. He refuses to move. He even has the gall to smile a little as he replies, “Hey, I’ll always love you no matter what. I’ll take a bullet for you, even if you’re shooting.”

I could do it. I could shoot him right now. But now, in this critical moment, I find myself hesitating once again.

Do it.

But he’s the only good thing in my life-

Do it! Watch as the light leaves his eyes!

I don’t...I don’t know if I can do it again...

What about your revenge? He’s in the way!

I tighten my grip on the gun...but I still can’t pull the trigger. Why...why can’t I kill him!? “How stupid are you? Would you really let your irrational feelings get in the way of your goal?” I have no idea if I’m asking him the questions...or myself.

“It seems you let your ‘irrational’ feelings get in the way of your goal. Aren’t you going to shoot?” he adds, almost sounding a little cocky at the end.

How dare he...

“Don’t lecture me!” I yell, whipping the gun away from his face. It clangs against the floor, the sound echoing in my ears. It’s clear I’m not going to shoot him point-blank anyway. “You think you know me, that you’ve got me pinned down. You don’t know anything about me! All you are is some criminal trash living in an attic who thinks he’s in love with an ace detective, a celebrity! You’ve deluded yourself and refuse to see the truth. How foolish you were to think that you meant anything to me, Joker!”

“You’re wrong!” He grabs my hand, the same hand that a few moments prior had been pointing a gun at his face. “I love you, and I’ll always love you. And...I know you love me too. We don’t have to fight-”

“I will get my revenge,” I interrupt as I pull my hand out of his grasp, refusing to listen to another word of his, “against Masayoshi Shido...my father. And you’re in my way.”

That makes him stop. The shock on his face is undeniable. “Shido’s...your father? Were you ever going to tell me?”

“What would’ve been the point?”

“Goro,” he starts; he must be taking this seriously if he’s using my first name, “we can still change his heart. Just let me hel-”

“I’m warning you. Stand. Down.”

“Please. I love y-”

Something inside me snaps. “NO! Just shut up, and die, Joker!”

There is only one way I can think of that’ll make me able to kill Joker. I welcome it with open arms. Loki’s mad power washes over me, my outfit changing in an instant. The world is tinted red, though I’m not sure whether it’s from the intense desire to murder or the lenses in the black mask. Maybe both.

But that doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters.

The only thing I want is to kill!

Destroy!

Massacre anything that stands in my way!

...starting...with...Joker.

A lopsided grin creeps on my face. Oh, this will be fun! I wonder how far I can go with this...

Let’s find out.

With little abandon, I rush straight at Joker with my serrated blade. It’ll tear him into pieces!

My sword clashes against his signature dagger. Somehow, he stands firm. How? How can he...?

Oh, so what!? He can’t possibly last for long! I go for another slash, but he yet again blocks it with that damn dagger of his. Our blades continue to strike against each other, neither of us able to land a hit on the other.

Again.

And again.

And again!

But then, as I throw all my strength into another frenzied slash, he weaves out of the way, kicking the sword right out of my hand as I start to stumble.

No way. How could this attic trash possibly be stronger than me!?

Joker lunges at me, the dagger no longer in his hand. Somehow, he manages to knock me off balance. He tries to restrain me as I thrash while screaming insults at his face.

One of my hands reaches my mask. Perfect.

I don’t even think.

I just act.

Only one thought rages in my mind.

I will kill Joker!

I command Loki to use Maragion. He won’t be able to block this attack. Screw his Shiki-Ouji!

For a brief moment, the flames surround Joker...but suddenly, they turn on me. I grit my teeth at the searing agony radiating through my body. Damnit...of all the times he wasn’t using that Persona-

My mask reforms, but is quickly pulled away from my face. Joker tosses it to the side, once again trying to hold me down. He flinches as my claws rake across his face, but he doesn’t budge.

He’s saying something to me, but I can’t hear him.

I don’t care what he’s saying! He should be dead!

I almost manage to hit him a second time, but now he’s able to use his hands to pin mine down. I try desperately to claw at his hands, but they’re just out of reach.

Damnit!

Joker’s still talking. Now I can make out his words. “...love y...please...it’ll be...”

What is he thinking!?

Even now...

As the seconds slowly tick by, the psychotic rage that overtook me starts to dissipate. Joker keeps on saying the same thing over and over: “I love you, Goro. Please, calm down. It’ll be okay.”

Over.

And over.

He sounds so distraught as I continue to fight against him. Repeating those same words. It’s no use. Joker’s determined to stop me.

Eventually, I stop struggling, panting as I try to catch my breath. I finally manage to gasp out, “What are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I...I didn’t want this.”

“I know. You didn’t want to shoot me.”

“I-”

Our conversation is interrupted by a pained scream. We both look over as Cu Chulainn falls to the ground. Cerberus must have fallen earlier in the fight, as it’s nowhere to be seen. The rest of the thieves look a little tired but otherwise no worse for wear. I turn my attention back to Joker, frowning as I see blood dripping from the thin slashes marring his beautiful face. “It’s fine,” Joker says, noticing where my attention is. “It doesn’t hurt. But are you okay?”

My laughter is strained, forced. “That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“But you got hurt.” He moves his hand to gently caress my face. “If I had known you were going to use that move, I would’ve used a different Persona.”

“Why would you even care? I just tried to kill you, damnit!”

“Because I love you, Goro. And I always will. You could’ve shot me, and I still would have loved you just the same.” Is it just me, or did his voice crack just a little there? “Goro, no matter what happens, I just want you to know I love you dearly, and-”

“Ugh, can we save the cheesy romance for later?” Oracle butts in.

Oh. That’s right. We’re not alone here. And with how things currently look... “Joker?” I start.

“Yeah?”

“Get off me.”

“Aww, I was enjoying this,” he says with a chuckle. He waits a second before moving so that I can push myself into a sitting position. The sudden movement causes me to hiss in pain. “You didn’t answer me earlier. Are you okay?”

“I have been through worse.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’ll be alright. Any other questions before we leave this wretched place?”

“Just one. Why did you do this? Did something happen yesterday?”

I almost tell him. My lips part, about to answer, but I realize it might take too much time. “How about we save that question for Leblanc? It...might take some time to answer.”

“Okay. We should head back to the central hall,” he adds, addressing everyone with that. He then turns back to me and, with a smirk, kneels down and puts one arm behind my back and the other under my knees. I realize what he’s doing just as he proceeds to pick me up bridal style with little regard for if he gets jabbed by the pointy parts of my true outfit. The rest of the thieves seem just as surprised and shocked as I am. Meanwhile, Joker grins at me as he says, “Hi, Akeppi.”

“Joker, what are you doing?”

“Showing you how much I love you.”

“You stupid, insufferable-” The rest of what I was going to say is cut off by the soft little kiss Joker gives me. He looks like he would love to kiss me more, but he’s not about to test his luck when I have so many ways to potentially harm him right now. It takes me a few seconds of mulling my response in my head before I begrudgingly finish, “...lovable menace.”

“I know. But I’m your menace.”

That alone gets me to smile. He’s right. It only took me trying to kill him to see it. “Yes, you’re my menace, and nothing is going to ever change that.”

[tarithenurse]

Nightingale - 14

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: References to fighting, killing, non-con, and general trauma. Nothing graphic. A/N: Well...it’s gonna get dark for a while but at least it’s a longer than usual chapter. As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag!

Ch. 14

For once, Kakashi is at a loss on how to explain all of this to the Hokage but for the moment, the elderly man merely nods to Anko who leaves again and then he goes to sit down, facing the bound woman. He may look old with wrinkled skin and liver spots, white hair, and a gait that only hints as the strength he still possesses...but the eyes are clear and observant as they study Mei.

"You must truly be dangerous, miss," he concludes, "if Kakashi has decided to incapacitate you like this."

There's a question hidden in there, Kakashi knows, and he recognizes the slight tug of a smile on the girl's lips that proves she hears it too. "It was not my idea, to be honest." Now the questions aren't even given sound. "This is -... Certain -..." pausing again, he feels the pressure to formulate a coherent sentence. "The proper explanation is a bit convoluted but the gist of it is that M-this woman only is willing to reveal her identity under these conditions. I do not, at the present, have any reasons to suspect that she is or has been intending any harm."

Somewhere under the wide rim of the hat, the Hokage lifts an eyebrow in surprise. "You know each other?"

"...partially..."

More brows arch at the unsatisfying answer, forcing Kakashi to begin his version of the events preceding this odd presentation. He has to start over early on to accommodate the arrival of the two elders, Anko, and a few other jōnins (including some of his former ANBU colleagues) but at least no one interrupts or asks questions until he has finished and even then it's clear they are deferring to the Hokage to take the lead.

"Your name is Mei?"

"No, Hokage-sama." Knew it. "My name's Minami Uguisu...although, I've not been allowed to use my family's name for many years."

The sadness the white-haired jōnin has noticed before is present again even if she bows her head to hide most behind a waterfall of blue hair. He hates it. Hates that he's standing with a rope tied around her neck while she's passively kneeling. He has to suppress the urge to crouch next to the mysterious woman and protect her from whatever is haunting her...but he has already broken protocol by refraining from reporting it the moment he first realized something was going on.

"Not permitted...by whom?"

There's a breathless moment of anticipation in the room before she returns the Hokage's gaze calmly. "Orochimaru."

Yeah, I'm in trouble. Around them, people have drawn weapons and switched into battle stances as if the bound woman suddenly could break free of the bonds – the way she’s tied, she can’t use her hands to sign nor does she have wriggle room to get to her feet – but every ninja await the orders of the Hokage who hasn’t moved at all.

“You haven’t come here on his orders...?” the old man wonders rhetorically. “Perhaps this will all make more sense if you start at the beginning, Minami Uguisu.”

Any shinobi in the village is willing to lay down their lives if the Hokage sees it necessary to protect their home and the civilian citizens. This time, they only slowly disarm and sit in a circle around the stranger, and Kakashi who still is holding on to the noose.

“Mei...Uguisu...?” He knew she was hiding something but nothing has prepared him for this.

She doesn’t turn her face to look at him. “I grew up in a tiny village...a cluster of homes, really, at the end of a valley to the north somewhere. A handful or two of smaller families who would help each other out to the point where we were more or less self-providing. Some of the men worked further up the valley at the quarry, but in our end...it was quiet. I knew nothing but peace until I was...12...I think.” Uguisu’s voice is steady, void of intonations just like her body is unnaturally still. “I remember waking up in the night and the light coming from outside was red from fire -” she swallows -“the smoke itched my nose. The screams...the screams cutting off quicker than they were supposed to, and I rushed to find my parents and my mother...she grabbed me, dragged me to the kitchen where she shoved me into a cabinet and told me to stay hidden no matter what.”

Kakashi can feel his breath shortening at the anticipation of the horrors to come because what else could possibly await? He hates himself for holding the rope tied around this blue-haired girl’s throat even if he now understands why she had insisted he would find them necessary once she explained. Orochimaru...she joined him?

“I tried to block out the sound of my father yelling and my mother’s cry. Hands covering my ears, head between my knees. I had just started over again, whispering the lullaby my mother always sang, when I was found.” A shudder ripples through ex-Mei. “He was...kind. Caring. The man with the pale face explained...he and his people had chased away the bad guys and I was safe again. He’d take care of me.” Bitterness laces each word, encouraging Kakashi to cling to the hope that maybe his gut feeling hasn’t failed him. “Orochimaru. He took me away, promising that someone stayed behind to tend to the injured and bury the dead...and I believed him. All he wanted at first was for me to sing sometimes. We rarely stayed at the same place to begin with,” a dry laugh escapes her, “well, he would often not even be there at all...however when he was, he would spend time training me. Orochimaru Sensei...he even helped me develop my jutsu – a task that grew easier when we eventually settled down and the ranks of followers started to grow.”

Looking to the Hokage, there’s nothing Kakashi can see that betrays the leader’s thoughts. Does he already know? For his own sake, though, the jōnin needs a bit more information that just that.

“How old were you then?” he demands.

“I’m not certain but around 16.”

Maybe ten years ago. Relapsing into silence, the room awaits the continuation of the story.

“Eventually, my protector and teacher didn’t leave the new home as often. He would spar with me or have me train with other talented ninjas. Mostly, though...he kept me somewhat isolated. Not as if I was a prisoner, but rather...a prized possession. Someone or something important. Orochimaru had explained long ago that there was a hidden war brewing – one of the pieces of evidence was the attack on my childhood home – and so I was not surprised that he wanted to keep me safe from both physical danger as well as the tactical meetings. Still...sometimes he needed my kekkei genkai to get the truth from prisoners of war or to ensure the full co-operation of someone.”

“He was not capable of that himself?” the Hokage interrupts for the first time.

The slightest of shrugs unsettles the waterfall of hair. “Not the way I could. Any prisoner would wish to obey my demands as soon as I spoke to them.”

The noose! The rope prickles under Kakashi’s fingertips. If at any point she tries to do that... All it would take would be a sharp tug and no air would escape her lungs. Uguisu has, the jōnin realizes, truly given herself over to the mercy of Konohagakure by preparing the exploitation of her weaknesses. Glancing to his friends, he can see they have reached the same conclusion although he has no doubt they are considering it a bluff meant to lower their guards. This kekkei...is she using it? Unsure how it would work, Kakashi considers repelling it but sees others are already trying with no other result than confused glances towards the bound woman.

“One day, I overheard a conversation not meant for my ears...” Uguisu pauses to release the clench of her jaw. “Some of the men who had been with Orochi’ since before he found me were drinking and talking, boasting of past victories, bragging about people they had killed. In summary...that included the people in my home village. All of them.” This time, the careful inhalations and exhalations aren’t enough to stop the bound woman from clenching every muscle. “There had only been one force...Orochimaru had come, ordered the slaughter, and only demanded for me to survive. I didn’t want to believe what I heard...I tried to push it away even if later events suddenly made sense and that evening, at dinner, he must have sensed I was upset so he asked what bothered me...”

“You told him,” Anko guesses. Her eyes are big, betraying the ghosts haunting her own past.

“Yes. And he didn’t deny it.” For a moment, the girl leans her head back as if a weight has fallen from her and she finally can stretch. “Even told me it was because he’d heard of me and my skill...you don’t get to be the one negotiating at the bigger town’s market at a young age without rumours spreading.” Uguisu laughs dryly at the memory.

Sighing deeply, the Hokage asks that water is brought to the prisoner before returning his attention to her. “Intending to use you jutsu to establish his power and force his will upon anyone refusing to accept him as their leader.” He receives a nod. “If he had treated you as the prisoner you were, then he might not have ensured your co-operation...however, if he could form a bond with you, you would feel indebted to help him...and maybe even be his most devoted follower.”

“It might have worked if he had gotten to me at a younger age,” she agrees, “if I couldn’t remember much of my past. Instead, everything he had build crumbled at the revelation and I tried to leave.”

Anko growls. “You can’t make me believe he let you.”

“Of course not. I tried to fight my way out, unsuccessfully, while he idly toyed with me. Amused by my tries because I still had much to learn. He stopped playing when I tried to use my kekkei genkai...”

Years have passed since, but Kakashi can see the effect it has on Uguisu still: head low, body tensed in a futile attempt to become smaller than she is. The ropes strain around her limbs and prevent her from curling up with the knees to the chest, and he knows it must be painful but releasing her at this point in time is not an option. Instead, he has to watch in silence while she regains control of her breathing.

“He...he always experimented,” she resumes, “he had found a way to resist my voice so I couldn’t stop him when rage overtook him and he attacked. He...” her voice croaks, but she pushes on, “he sou-ought to break me. To -...he was vicious! Wanted -... Relentless, try-trying to destroy my...my...everything. Soul. M-mind. Body. And he bit me...”

The chill rolling down Kakashi’s spine settles in his guts as a roiling urge to vomit. A flashing memory of this girl sitting on his bed, hugging his pillow, smiling...until he joked that he wouldn’t bite. That’s why you ran. Glancing at Anko, he sees a similar, pained realization: Orochimaru’s bite leaves a Curse Mark.

“His...taint...” Uguisu’s voice is a broken whisper, “everywhere. He -...it -...what he did...” she has to pause to let out a quaking whimper, “the pain was o-one thing but he...” Everyone can hear the gulp of the dry swallow. “It took weeks to recover. Often he’d...refresh the wounds. But he was pleased because I did not fight anymore. He’d make me use my skill on larger groups of people and it would trigger...it’s like he’d be in my mind and body all over and it would burn.”

The silence is deafening. Listening to the foreigner’s tale, no one doubts a word she’s saying and many have lost the stoic faces of elite ninjas. Even the Hokage is averting his gaze, face hidden in the shadow of the hat.

“Hrm...” the old man clears his throat. “Perhaps we should continue this at a la-”

“No.” Finally lifting her face, Uguisu stares at him. “There’s not much left, Hokage-sama, allow me to finish.”

He nods slowly. However, as he returns to the passive position of someone who listens, he catches Kakashi’s eyes and within the gaze lies an unspoken message for the jōnin to decipher. One of pity for the girl, of a demand matching the instinctive urge the man who brought the stranger to this room already feels. I understand, the answering nod promises, her scars are deeper than even the Mark. Bile threatens to rise in his throat. Before him, kneeling on the floor, is a woman who has decided to trust in him and Konohagakure despite betrayal, violence, mind games, and rape.

“I began to test my limits despite the circumstances. I waited...played the role of the defeated.” The smile on Uguisu’s lips doesn’t reach her eyes. “Then finally he left on some mission and I grabbed my chance. I managed to get away and although I ran blindly at first, something eventually carried me to a valley I recognized and the ruins of my old home. No one had been buried...l-later, as I knelt by their graves, I swore an oath to oppose Orochimaru with all that I am. I remembered hearing the name of this place as the subject of his hate and my goal became clear.”

The white-haired jōnin is impressed by the woman’s tenacity to reach the end of the tale in her current condition: shaking, ropes digging into her flesh, tears dripping onto the floor and her lap. Somehow, though, she still manages to make her raw voice heard in the entire room.

[tsipasce]

Same Difference, ch.01

Summary: When Chronostasis is almost crushed by a falling beam, a passerby, Nanami, saves him. In an instant, she disassembles and reassembles it into harmless bits of metal. There are no other witnesses, but after she leaves, he makes an urgent call. "Overhaul, we need to talk. Now."

A/N: As you can see, I am terrible at summaries, but this is a multichapter fic that began as a plain reader insert but morphed into a beast all its own. Anybutts, I’ll be putting out chapters every week because Overhaul is a dick, but I just can’t help myself. Let me know what y’all think~

Chapter links:  02

AO3 | Fanfic

It was a picturesque late summer day, the sun was shining brighter than All Might’s smile and the clouds were fluffier than Fat Gum— Man I should really.. not get into poetry. That was terrible. Nanami thought to herself as she began daydreaming. She’d been cooped up in her office for what felt like ages and the temptation to escape from her office was palpable. She’d call it an escape, but in her defense, she’d chipped away rather efficiently at her mountain of paperwork and her last appointment of the day wasn’t for another couple hours. Before the mental argument for frolicking over to the nearby café could be made, she’d already grabbed her keys and purse and was out the door of her office. Walking down the hall, she made small talk and greeted her colleagues and coworkers in passing. It had only been a year and a half since graduating, but she was confident that hearing her name with Dr. in front of it would never get old.  

“Well look who decided to leave their cave today…” a distant voice called from behind. The figure coming towards her was waving a bit too enthusiastically for someone who’d just worked 12 hours straight.

“ Ha. Ha. How very original ~” she replied dryly.

He stopped at a comfortable distance in front of her and smiled. Forgetting how nice it was to see a friendly face after being cooped up in her office, she reflexively returned a tired smile of her own.

Dr. Tanaka was one of those colleagues who was just cool enough to be considered an actual friend outside of work and after her own, long shift she could use a casual chat with a friend.

“Headed out for a break?” He continued.

“Finally, yes. It’s just too nice outside and mama needs a sugar rush. Want to come with?”

“No thanks, I think I’m going to finish my rounds and head home, but if you’re looking for sugar, I’d avoid the usual spot. Some petty criminals were caught there earlier so it’s cordoned off for the rest of the day.”

“Really?” She sighed, annoyed at the inconvenience.

“Yes, really. But, there is a place I passed by this morning that had one of the best mochas I’ve had in a while, you should try it out and let me know what you think.” He replied seeing her perk up at the mention of anything related to chocolate.

“Well, I’m down to do a little coffee shop research,” she replied having already made her order in her head.” I’ll give it a try.”

“There’s a good sport. What’s the worst that could happen? Here’s the address” he texted her the location and an adorable café with way too many sweets popped up—Tanaka was definitely a good friend.

Mentally already at the café, she said her goodbyes and headed out the door, determined to seize what was left of the day and some pastries.

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 On her way, Nanami decided to take the scenic route. It was about the same distance as her usual spot, just in a different direction. Having already mentally noted the directions, she took the opportunity to really appreciate what she’d been missing. All the sounds and sights of a peaceful Friday afternoon. People walking about on errands, the sound of kids playing in the park nearby, and the smell of something amazing letting her know she was headed in the right direction. A creaking noise broke her out of her reverie and she looked up to see a load of large steel beams being moved by a crane. It seemed way too risky to be moving such large materials in a place that densely populated, but she figured they had to build it somehow and continued on her journey.

After another block she turned the corner, spotting her destination. Walking in, she was thankful the atmosphere matched the photos and had already planned on thanking Tanaka for such a solid recommendation. The barista actually looked like she was enjoying her job and cheerily informed her that the pastry she’d picked was baked fresh every day in-house to complement their homemade syrups. Could this day get any better?

While waiting for her order, Nanami got a text that her appointment needed to come in earlier, and she’d need to return to the office soon. Eh, that’s alright, I’ll still have 30 minutes to enjoy the food on the walk back. The barista called her name and she hurriedly picked up her order, assuring them she’d be back again.

One foot already in another daydream, she leisurely made the walk back to the hospital, taking in the sights. The people eating in the bistro, the smell of flowers in the local shop, the sound of the wires creaking and buckling above the strange man in the alley… Hold up.

Oh shit. Nanami thought to herself, already exasperated.

As much as people called doctors heroes, she wasn’t that type of hero. Her quirk just wasn’t meant for that kind of work. However, judging by how precariously the beam was dangling above his head, she thought she might need to reconsider. Before she could finish her internal conflict, her feet were moving. If I could just get in range to yell at him, he might be able to get out of the way in time. Maybe. Did she really want to take that gamble with a stranger’s life though? She knew the answer before it was asked, pressing forward towards the site.

He was across the street and she hopped over the guard rails, thanking her lucky stars she took a passing interest in parkour that one year in college. Just as she cleared the rail, the cord holding the beam snapped. Her heart sunk, knowing what she’d have to do. Unless he had a speed quirk, she was his only chance. She and her quirk...

Revamp? No, that sounds lame. Renovate? Okay well now I just sound like I have some weird home improvement power—but enough of that. Focus, girl.

He heard the beam falling and glanced upwards, his expression making it clear that he knew it was too late to use whatever quirk he had to get out of it. Right before the look of acceptance could settle onto his face, she jumped beside him, her hand stretched upwards towards the beam. Her fingertip and the metal made contact for a split second and then… “clink”. A thousand more tiny clinking noises followed soon after. She’d done it.

Though disassembling the beam into a thousand tiny nuts wasn’t amazing per se, it beat turning it into a plume of toxic dust for passerby’s to inhale or disassembling the beam into two and risking the halves falling onto another street or a nearby building. Judging by the very alive man next to her, she’d say she did a pretty good job for a not-hero.

It seemed as if the alley was closed off enough that thankfully no one else on the street had noticed the commotion, and the construction workers would take a few minutes to get down to where they assumed the beam would have landed. Now came the hard part: Making sure no one knew exactly what happened and that I was ever here.

Nanami was very secretive of her quirk. She used it sparingly to help people and perform everyday tasks with a bit of convenience, but deep down she knew it had the potential to be something else. She’d learned the hard way to keep it in check and avoided overindulging. Only her parents and her closest friends knew what it was and even then, she did her best to downplay it. Especially after the incident.

She snapped out of her inner monologue to see a very shocked man standing next to her, staring at her as if he’d seen something that was both extraordinary, yet familiar. He was a little taller than her but seemed close to her in age. He was wearing what appeared to be a stark white raincoat and had distinctive, pointy hair—not just pointy, she noted, there’s whole arrows at the end. Quirks really produce some interesting phenotypes…

Remembering that she needed to remedy the situation and get back to the office as soon as humanly possible, she broke the silence.

“Uhhhm, hi. Are you alright?” she began nervously.

“How did you ...” He still looked like he had seen a ghost, but she needed this interaction to end before the construction workers came and started asking questions.

“Look, I know this must be a bit jarring, but I really need to go. Will you be alright until someone else arrives?” She quickly realized being both direct and smooth was more difficult than she’d imagined.

An emotion she couldn’t put a name to flashed across his face and he recomposed himself.

“Could I at least know your name to thank you?” He asked innocently.

“Oh no, you don’t have to thank me. But if you really want to—just do me a solid and promise me you’ll keep this between the two of us, please?” She said antsy and almost pleading, knowing the workers and passerby’s curious about the missing giant beam and metal rain could come by at any second.

He paused and she could tell he wanted to say more but didn’t. “Of course, thank you for you hel—”

With the verbal confirmation that her secret was seemingly safe, she ran like the wind out of the vicinity and back to the safety of her office. After recollecting herself, she realized her treats had gotten lost in the melee and her pockets were now full of various nuts and bolts. No wonder why it was so hard to run... she thought to herself, emptying out 10-15lbs of bolts from her coat pockets.  Looks like I won’t need to go to the hardware store for a while…

She quickly shrugged it off and walked into her appointment, already plotting to do nothing but sip some wine at home and chastise herself for not being more discreet about using her quirk.

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 As Chronostasis was inspecting the sight of the Hassakai’s latest development, he had lost himself completely in thought. By the time he realized his error he was sure it was too late. He had never used his quirk on an object that large and in that moment of hesitation he feared the worst. Then in an instant, a woman stood beside him under the falling beam and did what he’d only seen one other person do before: Overhaul. With a single touch she disassembled the object and reformed it into something else. Perhaps it was a fluke, he considered, but if so, why did she seem so desperate to keep it a secret? As she bolted before he could finish his sentence, he followed her silently a few blocks before she entered a nearby hospital.

After reconfirming with himself what he’d seen, he made a prompt call, forgoing the usual formality in his calm urgency.

“We need to talk. Now.”

[bigenderbefriender]

It’s approaching midnight here in Oklahoma on November 2, 2020, and before election day begins in earnest, I wanted to write out a few of my thoughts.  I don’t know how much analysis I’ll actually do; this is mostly a record of how I feel, how the world is, and how I perceive it.  Maybe a year or two down the line, I’ll be able to look back on this and shore up some memories, though hopefully I won’t ever forget what I’ve seen over the past four years.

Let me start with this, then.  No one knows what’s going to happen.  The perennial discourse about the electoral college is in full swing, and as usual, Republicans are blocking it because they benefit massively from the rampant conservatism (racism) of rural states such as my own.  All the news talks about these days is the election cycle and COVID; I can hardly blame them.  It’s almost all I think about, too.  That said, half of Oklahomans went without power this week due to a massive ice storm, including most of my social circle, and it didn’t even make a blip in the national news.  Likewise, Hurricane Zeta tore a path through Louisiana then up the East Coast last week, and it only got a cursory mention, despite being the fifth such hurricane to make landfall in Louisiana this year.  The destruction there is nigh incalculable.

Texas governor Greg Abbott has been in a campaign to suppress voters in urban areas in this election cycle, his most egregious success being to limit the number of polling places per county to one, meaning large cities that fall under one county must all vote at the same place.  This will inevitably lead to a number of citizens being unable or unwilling to vote, predominantly in those large cities where lines will be several hours long, and the risk of COVID will be high.  Texan Republicans have also tried to throw out drive-thru ballots on the order of 120,000 votes, but this was blocked by Andrew Hanon.  The voter suppression is quite likely because for the first time in several elections, Texas is legitimately competitive this year.  I don’t think it will flip to the Democratic Party, but if it does I would be quite happy.

Other states have also been engaging in voter suppression, but there are people working against it.  Stacey Abrams, after her narrow defeat (1.4%) in the 2018 gubernatorial race in Georgia, has continued her commitment to ending voter suppression there, and she claims that she has done so quite successfully.  I suppose that remains to be seen, but I am hopeful.  Little news is coming out of places like North Carolina, though, and that’s scary, since voter suppression there is so prominent and so ugly.  In addition, Trump has been calling on militias, whom I will not name so as to keep them away from this post, to enact stochastic violence against voters whom they believe will vote Democratic.

In truth, that’s only the tip of the iceberg.  Since the summer, Trump has been questioning the legitimacy of mail-in ballots, certainly in an attempt to provide precedent for his contesting of the election results.  If they go in his favor, I’m sure he’ll love whatever the election says, but much like with Hillary Clinton, it looks like he’ll lose the popular election.  Experts are predicting a “blue shift” over the course of the election cycle.  That is, Republicans by and large are ignoring the threats of the coronavirus, which means they’re much more likely to vote in person on November 3.  This means it will appear that Trump has won the election on Novemeber 3, but as mail-in ballots get counted, the electorate will begin to sway towards Biden.  I may make a prediction here, though it is a grim one.  I believe that Trump will try to call the election on November 3 proper, and he will use his newfound influence on the Supreme Court (aka his nominee and now justice Amy Coney Barrett) to halt the count of mail-in ballots that might prove him wrong.  Many people say our democracy is in crisis, but quite honestly, I think this is a natural conclusion to the way that politics have been going since basically the Clinton era.

What I mean by that is to say that Trump’s presidency has done an excellent job of exposing long-lasting structural issues in American society, and Democrats have made #resist into an aesthetic to win their re-elections rather than actually leveraging the power they do have.  I’d say it must be hard, against someone who’s as much of a political opportunist as Sen Maj Ldr Mitch McConnell (R-KY), but the truth is that all of these people are perfectly content to campaign on decorum rather than on fixing any of the actual issues facing the US.

It’s not all bad; Biden has been pushed quite a bit to the left by the growing progressive wing of the Democratic Party, organized in part by the Justice Democrats and represented by Sen Bernie Sanders (Ind. VT), Rep Alexandria Ocasio Cortez (D NY), Rep Ilhan Omar (D MN), Rep Rashida Tlaib (D MI), and Rep Ayanna Pressley (D MA).  The latter four are colloquially referred to as “The Squad,” and they fight alongside others for progressive policies out of the House of Representatives.  I would hate to go through an entire post about my feelings on national politics without mentioning the few good things we do have going for us.  In addition, voters have come out in record numbers this year.  As of this morning NPR reported that four states have had more early voting than total voters in 2016.  In a democracy, one of the major challenges is to stimulate citizen participation in government; citizens are certainly participating this year.

Also, this year has been a year that will be remembered for its social movements.  The Black Lives Matter movement came back into full swing, and the role of the police is now a legitimate question in many people’s minds.  Of course, this is a frustrating thing to talk about, too.  The demands of Black Lives Matter as a movement are so simple, yet over and over again, police show that they are more dedicated to violence than to justice.  In addition, white people across the country have shown that they are more dedicated to law and order than to making a country in which everyone can live.  This seems odd to me, though I know that it is specifically racially motivated.  It’s not like I’m just having this realization now; my grandparents are Party Republicans, and I couldn’t convince them to vote to kick Walmart out of their town, even when they know exactly how it’s screwed them.  To ask them to empathize with a Black person, even a Black neighbor?  Believe me, I’ve tried.  Still, we did see (are seeing) a lot of good from the protests.  Colorado basically ended qualified immunity, which means that police should be a lot more accountable for their actions in the future.  We also saw several experiments in what a society could look like without policing.  The Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone in Seattle was the most famous of these, though it fell apart in part due to its popularity.  Others that did not have the spotlight on them did not fall apart so spectacularly (though I have to speculate that all of CHAZ’s sisters have been disbanded by now).

That said, there’s a lot to fear in the coming days.  The only thing we know about this election is that we won’t know the result for days or even weeks after polling closes.  Because of that, many fear that protests will break out across the country on election day.  The protests themselves aren’t the bad thing, I think.  What’s bad is that the protests will be the targets of white supremacist violence (if the protesters are pro-Biden) or the perpetrators thereof, especially now that Trump has condoned militia violence against citizens.  Over the summer, Trump also used a secret police force (under the Department of Homeland Security, specifically Customs and Border Patrol) against protesters in Portland, Oregon to quell unrest.  Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work, since the protests were against police brutality.  However, the system is now there for him to use, and CBP is only growing bigger by the day.  If protests do break out in the weeks following the election, I have no doubt that CBP will be there throwing people into unmarked vans and jailing them without due process.

I have so much more to say.  I haven’t even gotten into the border wall, or family separation, or the assassination of Iranian dignitaries, or attacks on abortion rights, or Mitch McConnell’s stalling of the Senate, or the individual stages of failure of the COVID-19 response and how I learned about them, or the use of said COVID-19 to grant ICE carte blanche to deport people without trial, or any of the myriad other political issues of which I’ve become aware over the past four years.  I also haven’t even begun to write out my thoughts on my local politics or Oklahoma politics specifically (quite honestly, I think local politics will forever stay offline, seeing as though I’d really rather not give out too much identifying information here).  But I think this post has gone on long enough.  Perhaps I will write more on those other topics in the future.  I am afraid for tomorrow, and I am afraid for the months and years to come.  I do not wish to live in interesting times, but it seems I am cursed to do so.  At least I can say I was a witness.  It is now 12:40 AM, November 3, 2020.  The election is in 6 hours, and I am scared.