#I’ve drawn it before but I normally erase it before I let anyone see those

[demonnstein]

Weeee

[dragonsareourfuture]

I Don’t Belong Here — L Lawliet/GN! Reader

Summary: What kind of a story begins with the main character dying? Well, this one. L Lawliet has lived out his days on earth and finds himself in the afterlife. The Good Place, he is told by a neighborhood architect named (Name). One who shows him around his own neighborhood and introduces him to new people. But something doesn’t add up, L notices. Does he really belong in the Good Place?

(I'd advise having knowledge on the TV show "The Good Place" if you wish to understand the majority of this clusterfuck. Although, if you wish to proceed regardless, go right ahead!)

Chapter One: L Lawliet, You Are Dead.

<>

Weclome! Everything Is Fine.

Everything is fine? Is that so?

The last thing L remembers is the ceiling. Just…the ceiling. The fans twirling on the ceiling of the headquarter building and the cross hatching of the tiles. It was peaceful. Was he sleeping? If he had been sleeping, then how did he end up here?

Now, instead of the ceiling, he stares at a wall. Big, green letters stare back at him. “Welcome! Everything Is Fine,” they say. Something inside L is prickling, like something he is forgetting struggling to find its way to his brain. He wants to ponder it, but something about the words splayed out on the wall in front of him is telling him that he doesn’t have to. Everything is fine, after all.

He only manages to tear his eyes away from the bold, sans serif font when the sound of a doorknob turning catches his attention. Huh. Has there always been a door there? If so he hadn’t noticed it, which L thinks is completely absurd as he usually takes mental notes of everything in a room before getting himself seated. But there it is, a door he missed while transfixed on the somehow calming message on the wall, now opening to reveal...a person.

You stand in the doorway, simply smiling.

Now that L’s attention has been drawn away from the mystifying message he can properly analyze his surroundings, and his new visitor. He’s in a rather simple room, nothing but a few plants dotting the perimeter and a couch in the middle, which he is currently sitting on. And he’s sitting normally. Hm. That feels…itchy. L inches a foot onto the couch in his discomfort of sitting with his bottom planted firmly on the cushions with both feet on the ground. Though he hesitates to bring both feet up and hug his knees to his chin as he normally would, because he senses that your sudden presence means he is about to be standing and following you into that mysterious room behind you. Like a doctor calling a patient into an appointment. Except in this case L has no idea what you are, and judging by your suit and comical, colorful bowtie, you are certainly not a doctor.

“L?” you ask, showing your teeth in a kind smile. “Come on in.”

And against his better judgement, he does. L was never the person to simply keep quiet and obey orders in a situation he does not understand. And there certainly is not a whole lot of understanding happening in his brain right now. He should be asking questions. He should be refusing you. He doesn’t know you, you could be leading him to his doom. All this is possible but something about the way you smile at him…like those big, green words, all he reads from you is “Everything Is Fine.”

The room that you lead him into doesn’t look all that much like a death trap, but you can never be sure. It’s a simple office, plants similar to the ones in the waiting room sit in pots in the corners and on the windowsill. The sun shines outside, seeping through the glass and illuminating the desk on the left as you walk in. On it are a few little trinkets, paperweights, and, right in the middle, a manila file folder.

You circle around the desk and settle yourself into the rollaway chair, gesturing to the sleek armchair across from you. “Why don’t you have a seat, hm?”

What is wrong with him right now? You ask him to do something and he just…does? What happened to his spine, other than it bending exponentially thanks to the way he sits?

No matter, there are more important things to think about right now. Like the fact that he might finally be getting some answers.

You open the file in front of you and skim whatever’s written, opening your mouth to say something when your eyes meet his. And then they drift down to his legs. You stare at him curiously with your mouth still agape for a few moments at how his knees are pulled up to his chin, eventually shaking your head and getting back on track.

“My name is (Name), and of course I already know yours.” you say, folding your hands in front of you. “So, how are you, L?”

How should L even answer that?

“I’m…confused, mostly. How are you?”

Your eyes light up, as if you haven’t been asked that in a while. “Oh, well I’m fine. Y’know, busy, but fine! And, yes, I’d assume you’d be confused, everyone in your situation usually is.”

“My situation? What exactly do you mean by that?” Now that L has finally asked one question he can’t seem to stop the ball from rolling “Speaking of you, who are you exactly? Actually, never mind who, but where—“

You hold up a hand. “All of your questions will be answered, I promise. There’s just one thing that you need to know before we tackle any of that.”

“And what is that?”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, elbows digging into the surface of your desk as you lean forward. You look like you’re about to tell him that he’s fired. That his dog died. That some kid took the last of the strawberry shortcake and he’s going to have to settle for carrot cake. What comes out of your mouth is much worse.

“L Lawliet, you are dead.”

…

He’s…?

Yes. Yes, he is. That’s why he doesn’t remember how he got here.

He’s dead. Huh.

L is perfectly content in not saying anything about this new little factoid, but you’re looking at him expectantly, and a little cautiously. Like you either expect him to punch you or burst into tears. L wonders if that fear is based on experience. How many other people have to told this to?

“…Am I, now? That’s a shame.”

You breathe out a sigh, which could be from relief. “Yes, it is. But, not to worry! Because you’ve ended up in the Good Place, L. You’re going to be okay.”

“So it’s called the Good Place?” L brings his thumb to his lips. “A rather simple thing to call it.”

You nod. “Pretty self-explanatory, right? We didn’t want anyone to get confused. There are just so many names for it on earth. Heaven, Valhalla, Nirvana…But it all translates to one place. Here. And you get to be a part of it.”

“That sounds…” Before he can articulate his thoughts, a dilemma from earlier brings itself to the forefront of L’s mind. “Wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My memories are all wrong. Before this, all I can remember is the ceiling and nothing else. If I were to have died, surely I would remember it, yes?”

You take a gulp of air and pull the manila file closer to you. “We take it upon ourselves to erase the memories of death if they are particularly traumatizing or embarrassing. Helps the residents adapt into a peaceful afterlife better, I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, that is perfectly sensible. Although I may ask, what is an example of a death that is not at all traumatizing?”

“Pfft, there hardly is one. You’d be surprised how many memories we have to erase.”

“On the contrary, I am hardly surprised. I’m sure there are plenty of people who cannot accept the nature of their death, let alone the fact that they have died in the first place.”

You sigh, “You’re tellin’ me. Most people come around once I tell them that they’re basically in paradise, but some won’t even listen to me once I break the news. One person tried to convince me I was the dead one! It’s just—oh, um, but that’s hardly the point.”

“Do you ever tell someone how they died if they ask?”

Your expression hardens. “I do, but I like to know that they’re certain before I tell them.”

“I am.”

Exhaling through your nose, you prop the manila folder up like a book, scanning the files inside. “Alright then. Let’s see here…ah, okay. So, unfortunately this one’s pretty traumatizing, it’s not really one of those embarrassing deaths that some people get a kick out of, so brace yourself.” You look over the top of the folder as if checking to see if he’s braced himself. His expression and stance is unwavering, large eyes merely staring back at you patiently. “You were betrayed by your colleague Yagami Light – also known as your adversary Kira – and killed by the Shinigami Rem at his request.”

Oh yeah. That.

The ceiling was not clear in view, no, there was something obstructing L’s view of it. A face, staring down at him as his heart gave out right on the floor. Brown eyes filled with such cocky maliciousness, the upward tilt of lips L only knew to spout lies. It all equated to a side of Yagami Light that L knew existed but had never seen up until his final moments. It all added up to one final conclusion -- Yagami Light was Kira all along. L had been right. But the price of knowing that for certain is that, now, there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I’m..I’m sorry. I never know what to do when I have to tell people…” you try, reaching across the table and planting a hand down in front of him. Not asking to hold his hand, not even expecting a reaction. Just showing that you’re there, and that you’re trying.

“It’s up to them now. I’ve done all that I could. I trust my successors.”

“In catching the murderer Kira, right?” you ask, to which L confirms with a polite utterance of ‘yes’. Obviously you know the answer. “I understand that is one of the many, many cases you’ve worked on during your lifetime.” you scan your eyes quickly down what appears to be a long list in your folder. Do you have every detail of his life in those files? Every case he ever took? Hell, every day in his life? You set the file down flat in front of you and look at him with something L determines is admiration. “You’ve done so much good in your lifetime, L. You’ve worked so hard over the entirety of your life to make sure you left the world a little better than you found it. Now…well, now you can rest.”

You can relax, you tell him. And it seems to simple coming out of your mouth yet somehow it still feels out of reach.

“I can…” Is all L manages to say, his preoccupation coming across as dreamy and wistful. His mind is busy running a mile a minute and his mouth just can’t keep up. L decides to test the words out on his own tongue to see if they still sound foreign, “I can rest now.”

Yeah, no, it still sounds like bullshit.

“Yes! Well, after the tour, of course.”

“Tour?”

You start to stand, straightening your colorful bowtie and circling around your desk to the door which you pull open. You don’t exit right away, though. You stand next to the exit, waiting for L to follow you. While he works on untangling himself from his current position you clarify, “A tour of the neighborhood! Where you’ll spend your afterlife.”

[lloydskywalkers]

any port in a storm

Pixal and Lloyd and the evolving nature of friendship, as highlighted by the regular burning down of your city. 

(desperately trying to break through writer’s block and classes again, this was supposed to be under 2k and it is...very much not hdfjkgh but! i’ve been meaning to write for Pixal and Lloyd for a while so here are a whole bunch of feelings about the two of them and s8)

Pixal meets — truly meets — Lloyd Garmadon shortly after his brother’s been blown to pieces.

She says truly, because if you ask her, Pixal will tell you she met Lloyd Garmadon at exactly 8:48 in the evening outside his father’s monastery, moments before a horde of nindroids led there by Pixal herself descended upon them.

But Lloyd argues that since they said about two words total to each other, it doesn’t really count as meeting, and by the time Pixal’s spending the better part of her day with him running high and low around Ninjago City, she’s learned that it’s easier not to press the point.

Lloyd can be stubborn, like that.

She’d first learned that when she’d met him, just after they’d lost Zane. That loss hadn’t lasted long, especially for Pixal, but the immediate aftermath of it had been devastating. She’d watched with blank eyes as the team had fractured, splitting at the seams as they all fled their separate ways, too heartsore and dizzy with grief to do much otherwise.

All of them had fled, save Lloyd. She hadn’t paid him much attention before that point, the surprisingly small bearer of the Golden Power. Of course, he wasn’t the bearer of that power anymore, but his eyes alone had shown the experience of it. There’d been a brief, lost look that had crossed his face as the others had mentioned leaving, before it had been swept under a mask of stubborn, determined blankness. He wouldn’t be leaving. Someone had to stay behind and watch out for things, he’d claimed, even as the loss had bled through his voice.

Pixal hadn’t quite grasped the concept of empathy at that point, but she’d felt something dangerously close to it.

At any rate, the only interaction they’d had alone was brief. In fact, the only one Pixal can truly remember — and her memory never fails — is the quick exchange they’d had in the hospital lobby directly after the battle. The hospital was for Mr. Borg, and for the ninja’s minor injuries.

There was nothing any hospital on earth could do for Zane.

Pixal had found herself next to Lloyd in the waiting room, trying to distract herself from those thoughts while Lloyd stared at the stark white tiling with dull eyes.

“They never mentioned what your power was,” she’d asked him, almost absently. Collecting data, processing information — anything she could do to distract from the crushing grief.

“Oh.” Lloyd had blinked, startling back into awareness. He’d suddenly looked painfully young. “It’s, ah, I guess it’s just green, now.”

It had been Pixal’s turn to blink. “Green.”

“Yeah.” Lloyd had bit his lip, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, two habits he’ll never quite lose. “I mean — it’s more than that, but it’s like — energy, I guess, is the best way to put it?”

“Interesting,” Pixal had remarked.

“Yeah.”

They’d stared at each other in silence after that, before they’d both been called off to other errands — and then they were having Zane’s funeral and then Pixal was making realizations she never got to tell anyone, and that had been that in her early introductions to Lloyd Garmadon. Quiet, awkward, and possessing an incredible power he hardly even knew the name of.

Looking back, Pixal figures her introduction hadn’t gone much better.

They’d continued as passing acquaintances as time went on, separated by danger and the confines of Zane’s head, and Pixal had figured that’s all they’d ever be. But then their Sensei goes missing and, despite Pixal’s increasing disappearances on Zane as she rebuilds her own body, she’s been given the role of watching out for Ninjago city along with Lloyd.

She quickly learns that quiet is not a term fit for Lloyd Garmadon when you’re trapped alone with him.

************

“How is there not a single station playing actual music?” Lloyd seethes, flicking through the channels almost manically. “It’s two am, who’s gonna be listening to your stupid commercial for toothpaste now, are you kidding me?”

“Statistically speaking, this is the prime time for long-distance driving near Ninjago City,” Pixal supplies, her voice a hint scratchy where it comes through the his car’s radio speakers. “Or, if you factor in the construction in the east district, there could still be traffic from late-night bars.”

Lloyd groans, thunking his head against the steering wheel as another ad screeches through the small space. “Wonderful.”

“Your vocal tones suggest you find it otherwise.”

“Dont trust ‘em, my vocal tones are traitors.” As if to solidify his point, Lloyd’s voice cracks in the middle of his sentence, shooting up an octave higher. Lloyd goes bright red, and thunks his head against the steering wheel again.

Taking pity on him, Pixal aims for reassurance. “It is normal for your voice to break, Lloyd. It shouldn’t last too long.” She pauses, momentarily scanning through another article. “On second thought, this one suggests it could also take two to three years for your voice to stabilize.”

Lloyd gives a strangled moan. “End me.”

“Unfortunately, that would defeat the purpose of why I’m here in the first place.”

Lloyd tilts his head, cracking an eye open as he glances at the camera feed he knows she’s watching him from. “Unfortunately, huh,” he muses. “So you’re saying if Zane hadn’t made you promise to look out for me, you would end me?”

“That — no, that is not — of course I wouldn’t end you,” Pixal backtracks. An odd feeling flickers through her, almost as if she’s lost her place, floundering.

Or embarrassed might be more accurate, she thinks wryly. She briefly considers projecting a a glaring face at Lloyd from the monitor. This is his fault. She rarely stuttered before Lloyd started teasing her at all hours of the morning.

“I mean, you wouldn’t be the first,” Lloyd continues, conversationally. “And if we’re being honest, I’d definitely rather you be the one to off me, instead of like, random bad guy number eighty-five—”

“I know you think you are funny,” Pixal cuts over him. “But casually planning for your death is something Kai listed I was not to let you do. Also, it is not nearly as funny as you think it is.”

“Ouch,” Lloyd mutters, though he looks chastised. “Never mind, you just took me out in one sentence.”

Chastised might be the wrong term.

Pixal studies him through the monitor, then sighs. “I am, however, honored you think highly enough of me to offer the right to murder you,” she gives in.

She’s rewarded as Lloyd breaks into a bright grin.

He still looks painfully young these days, but it’s less obvious. His voice is pitching lower and he wears his hair different, and he’s gained a whip-like tendency to quip at people, as Pixal’s experienced firsthand. Kai calls it sass in grumbling but fond tones, and Nya calls it snark somewhere between the fourth book series she’s sent for Pixal to try.

The ninja have been kind like that, sharing the interests they have in an attempt to make her feel…well, more human, she supposes. Less confined to a voice in a computer. Of course, Pixal isn’t confined to a voice in a computer anymore, but they don’t know that yet. She’ll tell them someday soon, she promises herself. Any day now.

In the meantime, it’s easy enough to keep up with Lloyd by lurking in his car radio, as he spends half his time in there anyways.

************

“You’d think we’d have found their hideout by now,” Lloyd notes, as they wait in a darkened alleyway again. It gives them an excellent view of the major highways, so if the rumored biker gang does show up, they won’t miss it.

If they show up being the key point.

“Whoever their leader is, they certainly know how to keep a low profile,” Pixal answers, closing out another dead end police report in frustration.

“It’s weird,” Lloyd says, propping the notebook he’s sketching in on his knee as he squints at the paper. “Normally the boss types aren’t this quiet. They like to show off, y’know? Make a big scene, dramatic speeches and all.”

“Are you referring to the villains, or yourselves?”

“Touché,” Lloyd snorts. “But still, you gotta admit it’s weird they haven’t even made any demands. What’s their end game here, elaborate advertising for motorcycle design?”

“I would hope not,” Pixal says. “Their color coordination is lacking.”

Lloyd fights back a smile, his pencil scratching as he shifts his notebook again. “I don’t know, I kinda like the punk look.”

“I noticed that, when you tried to redecorate the car.”

“Hey, skulls are cool.”

“They are also conspicuous, especially when they come in acid green colors.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” Lloyd sighs, making a face as he scrubs the eraser across the paper. Pixal tries to tilt the camera further, to see what he’s drawing tonight, but the angle he’s holding it at remains just out of sight.

She could probably guess what he’s drawing, if she tried. The notebook is one they’ve been steadily working their way through on these late-night patrols, the pages filled with little hangman games and Lloyd’s sketches of animals and his teammates. He’s drawn her a few times from memory, and she’s been tempted to ask him to draw her in the new Samurai X armor more than once.

Soon, she tells herself.

“What are you drawing?” she finally asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

Lloyd’s cheeks tinge pink, and he quickly plasters the notebook to his chest, hiding it entirely from view. “Nothing.”

Pixal waits, letting the silence fill with her judgement. “Lloyd, I have seen your drawings before.”

He doesn’t reply, and Pixal tries again. “It gets boring, being stuck with the car monitors for eyes.”

“I know you can hack other cameras,” Lloyd mutters, but he sighs, relenting as he turns the notebook over. Pixal’s eyes rake over the detailed sketch — it’s a comical little thing of her and Lloyd, jammed together on a tiny lifeboat in the middle of a darkening ocean. She can spot the smudges where he’s redrawn her head several times, and the numerous attempts he’s made at his own hair. Pixal studies Lloyd’s portrayal of himself, which is noticeably lacking in facial features. While Lloyd draws the others plenty, it’s a rare occasion that he draws himself, and she can’t help but be curious.

“I thought you were drawing the others again,” she admits.

“They’re on the ship,” Lloyd says, absently. “I’ll draw them when they remember to pull us back in.”

There’s nothing bitter in his tone to suggest it has any bearing on their actual lives, but the lost expressions Lloyd ends up giving their tiny caricatures feel familiar nonetheless.

“Zane has assured me they will be back as soon as they can,” Pixal speaks ups quietly.

Lloyd finally looks up fully, and flashes the monitor a smile. “I know,” he says. “So we better have this thing busted by the time they do, or they’ll never let us run a city on our own again.”

“If only we were truly running the city,” Pixal grumbles. “I could do a better job in two days than the current leaders could do in a year.”

“I’d vote for you,” Lloyd says, sincerely.

It’s a sweet gesture, but Pixal is unable to resist. “You don’t know how to vote.”

“Yes I do, it’s not hard!”

“Really? Then why are you not currently registered in the Ninjago voting system?”

Lloyd makes a strangled noise. “That’s a thing?”

She’s unable to keep the smugness from her voice. “I make my point.” Lloyd scowls, and scribbles a mustache on his drawing of her in revenge.

Pixal thinks it looks nice nonetheless.

************

She can’t really hold it against Lloyd for talking as much as he does, considering she does the same. It gets dull, sitting on patrol for hours on end, and there are only so many hours of light reading they can do before the silence begins to drive them both insane.

Pixal finds herself talking about more useless things with Lloyd than she has in her existence, pointless conversations in circles with each other. She also finds she doesn’t entirely mind. She’s become quite good at quipping back and forth with him, at least. It’s different than the kind of talk she has with Zane, lacking in the depth of feeling with the love they share. Her exchanges with Lloyd are lighter, though that’s not to say they’re less sincere.

For example, Zane hasn’t tried to teach her how to redesign a gi in poor lighting in the early hours of the morning because he’s bored out of his mind, that’s for sure.

“I’m teaching you how to sew,” Lloyd corrects, wincing as he accidentally stabs himself with the needle. “And I’m not redesigning the whole thing, I’m just adding some designs to spice it up.”

“I did not know you were allowed to wear colors other than green,” Pixal comments.

Lloyd pauses, squinting at the monitor. “You’re teasing me,” he finally says. “You’re making fun of how much green this gi has in it.”

“I would never,” Pixal replies, her tone flat and even. “The intricacies of your human humor evade me—”

“Human humor, nice—”

“—unlike the unusually bright shade of green you’ve chosen will fail to evade any eyes of your enemies.”

“I knew you were making fun of me!” Lloyd accuses, then flinches as he stabs his finger again trying to point at her. “And bright colors are our thing. Being subtle is, uh…not. Usually.”

Pixal is losing the battle to laugh at his expression by the minute. “I am shocked.”

Lloyd glares at the monitor, shifting his sewing to rest on his knees as he slouches in the car seat. “How’d you even get so good at sarcasm, anyways,” he mutters. “Zane still doesn’t get it half the time.”

“Perhaps it is part of my glowing personality,” Pixal says. Lloyd gives a huff of laughter, relenting.

“Fair enough,” he says, shifting in his seat again. “Fine, you win. The green is probably too bright, but that’s not the point. I’m gonna show you how to do a backstitch."

Pixal falls quiet, letting Lloyd gesture with the needle as he explains. There are a hundred, a thousand tutorials she could pull up online, digitized knowledge instantly learned on all the countless types of stitches she could use, sorted and categorized in neat columns of use and effectiveness. All of them more detailed, more easily understood than Lloyd’s absent rambling and unsteady hands as he struggles with the end of a knot.

Not one of them will care whether or not Pixal learns the odd way Zane likes to loop his stitches, or will quietly add which stitches knit skin back together quickest.

So Pixal ignores her programming, and does her best to follow Lloyd’s rambling instructions, watching as his scarred fingers tug another thread of dull gold through the green mess of fabric, the city quiet around them.

“You never did tell me where you learned how to sew,” Pixal says, as Lloyd starts up a new thread of black on the other side of the gi. “Was that something the others taught you in training?”

“They’d have to know how to be able to teach it,” Lloyd snickers. “And, uh, no. I taught myself to back at Darkley’s.”

“Oh,” Pixal falters. She’s heard about Darkley’s, both from Zane and the legal reports she’s read online. Neither gave a positive impression of the place. Her mind is suddenly filled with images of a younger Lloyd trying to give himself stitches, and her heart twists.

Lloyd starts, seemingly having picked up on her train of thought. “I mean, I did it for fun, mostly. I like sewing,” he explains. “It’s useful. You can pull things back together, and fix ‘em.”

Pixal is quiet, but she hopes Lloyd takes her silence as agreement with his motive. She likes to think he knows her well enough for that, by now.

************

Pixal finds, somewhere during their fourth month alone, that she’s glad the team elected to stick her and Lloyd together. Not because she doesn’t want to be with Zane — there’s never a moment she doesn’t miss him, and with every day that passes her resolve to keep her secret from him grows weaker, as the longing for actual connection grows stronger.

But there are conversations she can have with Lloyd that she can never have with Zane, and the dangerous thing about spending time with Lloyd, Pixal finds, is that they’re more similar than she’s realized.

“Sometimes I think I’m jealous,” Lloyd whispers to her one night. It’s one of the bad ones, the ones where their enemies struck too sudden to stop, and the mission ends in the hospital. “I think I’m jealous of Zane, and I hate myself for it.”

Pixal is quiet, trying to pick apart the tone of his voice in the words he’s just spoken, and factors in the victims they’ve just left behind at the hospital. She finds herself no closer to an answer.

“Is it the metal skin part?” she finally asks, though she knows that’s wrong. “The, what was it, technical immortality?”

“No,” Lloyd shakes his head. “I’m not afraid of dying,” he says emphatically, his fingers fluttering at over the steering wheel, tapping incessantly with unspent energy. “I don’t want to, but that’s — it’s not what I’m scared of. I’m more scared of how I go out.”

He swallows, and his fingers move to dance over the woven bracelet on his wrist instead, twisting at the tiny beads and tracing senseless designs in constant, steady movement. It’s a motion he does often, and it had puzzled Pixal at first. She’d decided to write it off as an odd tick, a way to spend excess energy.

Now, she recognizes the desperate kind of reassurance that movement gives. She understands too well the need to remind yourself that you can move — that your body will obey you and you alone.

Pixal thinks back to the other factors in tonight’s accident, of the way the drugged man’s eyes had cleared when they’d finally turned him over to the police, the way he’d sworn he’d never do such a thing in his right mind. She thinks of the way the first victim had thrown themselves over their companion.

That victim hadn’t made it to the hospital.

“Ah,” Pixal says, quietly.

She’s silent again, and she thinks back to when she’d met him, the very first time. She recalls the way her programming had rebelled against her in favor of the Overlord, corrupting her body and forcing it against her, twisting everything she was and wanted to be into something different.

She thinks back again, to the searing-hot anger, the terror, the despair as she was torn apart, piece by piece like a machine, burning out at the whims of another. Her end purposeless, her demise belonging to someone else, just like every other part of her.

She thinks of the last glimpse she’d caught of Zane, bright and beautiful as a supernova. Burning with the terrible brilliance of his own, determined choice. Terrible, because the death of something always is. Beautiful, because it was his own. Zane died, not a machine, not a weapon, not a tool of anyone or anything, but as himself. Zane died to save the ones he loves. Pixal could’ve died for spare parts.

Never again, she promises herself. If she goes out, she goes out on her own terms. This time, they choose the end of their own destiny themselves.

In hindsight, it’s the kind of promise they’re both too young to make, but neither of them have ever seen themselves as such, and promises like that are easy.

“Love can be terrible, sometimes,” Lloyd murmurs. Pixal watches him scrub at the blood on his uniform, and thinks how ironically well-timed it is that he finished the stitching on his new gi this morning. “Sometimes I forget how ugly it can be.”

************

The end of their nighttime stakeouts begins with a break-in at Mr. Borg’s tower. Lloyd argues that she should get to call it her father’s tower, if she wants, but the ninja aren’t the only ones Pixal’s hiding herself from.

And then Lloyd gets very tense at the thought of fathers very fast, and they never finish the conversation.

They stay at the edge of the bridge long after the parachute, emblazoned with the unmistakable visage of Lloyd’s father, disappears from sight. Pixal wonders if it’s burned into Lloyd’s eyes, like the way she’s read black spots linger in humans’ vision after they’ve looked at something too bright. The way Lloyd stares at the river, his shoulders tense and his teeth worrying at his lip, she thinks she might be right.

They’re waiting on the report from the commissioner —they’re waiting for anything, anyone who can offer them any explanation of what’s going on. Pixal’s reminded of how much she loathes this kind of waiting.

“It could be—” Lloyd begins, then breaks off, his voice wavering. He swallows, and Pixal can see the way his fists clench tightly from the cameras they’ve put in his car. There’s a fierce part of her that longs to reveal herself, to meet his eyes herself and offer some semblance of comfort. But there’s a time and place for things, and Pixal isn’t ready.

“It could be anything,” Lloyd finally continues, his voice small. “It could — it doesn’t mean anything. It could mean nothing, right?”

Pixal is silent, her mind racing. She’s run the calculations over and over in her head already, scouring the internet for anything related to the bikers. She’s been foolish, she realizes — they both have. Letting the gang go unnamed for so long, thinking nothing of it. Now, with the name flashing vibrant across Pixal’s vision, a part of her wants to let them go nameless just a bit longer.

Before she can answer, Lloyds phone goes off with a sharp ping, just as Pixal’s sensors alert her to the message from the commissioner. Lloyd snatches for his phone like it’s on fire, and Pixal’s already scanning the message frantically, as if she can salvage this if she’s fast enough, save Lloyd from this one pain.

Lloyd’s gotten much better at reading quickly though, these days.

She can pinpoint the moment he reaches the last paragraph, because his breath hitches. There’s a long, pressing pause of silence, Lloyd’s hands trembling as they clutch weakly at his phone. Then it’s punctured by a reedy, wheezing gasp, and Pixal’s suddenly wishing she’d revealed herself after all.

Instead, all she has is her voice as Lloyd crumples, crouching over in visible distress. Pixal’s mind races, recalling everything Zane’s ever told her about his team, the way their panic manifests in different shades. Lloyd’s is quiet but desperate, rapid breathes that stutter as his eyes slide more and more into a frightening kind of blankness.

“Lloyd, please, listen to my voice,” she begs, trying to reach him in the only way she can. “Please, you have to breathe—”

“He’s gone,” Lloyd rasps, unhearing of her words. “He’s s’posed to be gone, it’s supposed to be over, I’m supposed to be done—”

Pixal fights back the sense of overwhelming helplessness. She knows loss. She knows how to finish his sentence. He’s supposed to be done grieving, done mourning, done clinging to false scraps of hope that his father isn’t lost forever only to be met with heartbreak.

And now, to be met with the possibility of something so much worse.

“We’ll stop them,” she tells him, unflinching. “We won’t let it happen.”

Lloyd’s eyes are a vivid green where they stare at her through the monitor, almost ghostly in the misting light reflecting from the river.

He’s silent, but Pixal is, too.

Pixal remembers the way her head had spun when she’d first picked up the traces of Zane in the system, how the world had rushed then steadied, flooding with color as she’d realized he might not be lost after all. She remembers the surging, overwhelming flood of joy, that someone she’d thought she lost might live after all. She remembers being so happy, at even the smallest chance to get him back, because the voice was Zane’s, without a doubt.

She watches the color seep from Lloyd’s expression as his shoulders shudder, the words from the commissioner’s message almost echoing through the air. Watches the terror as the both of them fill the silence.

Will we?  

The radio scratches, as if echoing Pixal’s anxiety. Love can be terrible, sometimes. She’s underestimated how it also be so cruel.

************

She’s also, apparently, underestimated how the universe on the whole could be so cruel.

She should’ve revealed herself to them from day one. That way, when Harumi’s corrupted programming suddenly ravages through her like an electric shock, she could be reassured they’d at least be familiar with the person they were fighting.

Instead, she doesn’t even get to scream. Pixal’s only able to force out a desperate, broken warning before she’s lost again, drowning in her own body as she’s forced under. Furious panic grips her as she screams without lungs, bashing herself against the overwhelming helplessness that’s taken over her.

Not again, not again, not again—

Her limbs creak and jolt against her will, lashing out at the people she cares most about, and Pixal can’t even rage back in her own voice. She’s sworn, she’s promised herself she’d never let anyone do this to her again — she’s sworn she’d die before she let someone reach into her head and snatch control away, and yet here she is, frozen as her body’s used to target her friends.

If she could cry, she might.

There’s not much more to say than that. She breaks free, her body her own once again, but by then it’s too late.

************

If Pixal had the same gift of foresight that Zane did, maybe she would have seen it coming. Maybe she’d have remembered how similar her and Lloyd are, and that this kind of pained desperation always yields impulsiveness and mistakes.

She doesn’t, though. She barely even manages to do what she’s trying to, which is convincing Lloyd to join the others while they celebrate their victory. Their off-key singing is something he normally wouldn’t hesitate to join in on, she thinks, and she hates Harumi a little more.

Maybe she’ll try his mother next. The expression on Lloyd’s face screams unapproachable, and remains fixedly sullen.

Almost to her surprise, he meets her eyes as she draws near— it’s odd, being able to meet his back — and his own eyes are dark, from despair over Harumi or despair over his father, Pixal isn’t sure. She’s thinking it might be both, when his eyebrows crease, and a flicker of concern cuts through them instead.

“You good?”

It takes her a moment to realize why he’s asking, but the answer is obvious. Her head tilts downward, and she watches as her fingers curl and uncurl. Her movements, her choices. She lets out an even breath.

“As I can be,” she replies. Lloyd nods, and his eyes are understanding. His lips twist in a scowl.

“She shouldn’t have done that to you. That was a low blow.”

Pixal’s mouth curves into a humorless smile. “That it was. She’s rather good at those, isn’t she.”

Lloyd’s eyes shadow again, and he looks away, crossing his arms. “This isn’t supposed to be about me,” he mutters.

“Yes, it is,” Pixal counters. “It is why I came over here, in the first place. She hurt—”

“All of us, and who’s fault is that,” Lloyd snaps, his arms crossing tighter.

“I would hope you know it’s hers,” she says, holding firm.

Lloyd looks away again, biting his lip, and Pixal shifts anxiously, rolling her wrists. The sensation of control sliding away still haunts her, worse than it had the first time. She should be better than this, she tells herself hotly. She’s lived without a body long enough that losing it so briefly shouldn’t effect her this much.

Curse her programming, she thinks, tapping agitatedly at the banister. She knew she should have reinforce it sooner.

“Hey, um.” Lloyd is looking at her again, hesitant. He twists at his bracelet, and his eyes lose a fraction of that darkness. “Kai made this for me, after Morro,” he says. “I kept shredding the sleeves of my uniform, so he told me to mess with this instead, when I needed to remember that…that I was in control.”

He shrugs, hesitant. “We could make you one too, if you wanted. It helps, having something.”

Pixal lets out a steady breath, despite not actually needing to. The action is grounding, she’s found. “I would like that.”

Lloyd gives her a ghost of a smile in return. “Soon as this is over, then.”

There’s a heavy weight to his words, and Pixal’s eyes narrow.

“Lloyd,” she says. He looks at her, his eyes dark. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

He’s quiet, not meeting her eyes, and this is where Pixal should stop him. This is when she should see the end of the road they’ve been on since they started this, and force him to turn before it’s too late.

“I know what I’m doing.”

She doesn’t.

************

Lloyd is battered and bleeding by the time they drag him onto the ship, a gruesome portrait of cruelty. Pixal is frozen as she watches him writhe in Kai’s hold, his screams cracked and wet as he thrashes erratically like a broken thing.

Nya is already barking orders before they’ve even gotten Lloyd fully on the ship, and Zane is running scans with a horrified, wavering focus. Pixal follows Cole as he carries Lloyd to the medbay with a blank numbness, the rush of wind streaming past the Bounty sails thunderously loud in her ears.

This isn’t Lloyd, she thinks, staring at his crumpled form. Lloyd isn’t this battered, broken shell of a person. Lloyd isn’t hazy eyes that fail to recognize them and frantic murmuring through bloody lips. Lloyd is bright-eyed and gentle and would rather die before he screams the way he does when Cole moves him to the table.

Lloyd is her friend, and this is where that promise they made has led them. She knows why Lloyd set out for the prison, hot on the collapse of his own star. She also knows he wouldn’t have chosen to burn out like this.

Cole calls out for Zane, his voice ringing in panic as Lloyd screeches in pain again. Pixal thinks of quiet words in the safety of his car, and she feels sick. This is the ugliness of love, the terrible, hideous side of it.

And Lloyd would hate it, if he could see himself, if he were any semblance of lucid. He’d hate to know just how much better he was at breaking himself than Morro ever was.

Zane is gentle as he pushes past her, but Pixal can feel the tremble in his hands. He’s every bit as rattled as she is, if not more so — Zane’s heart is larger and softer than hers has ever been, and he cares about each and every one of them with a painful intensity. It’s a cruel thing, to have to pull those same people back together with your own hands.

Kai’s eyes are streaming as he clutches at Lloyd’s wrists, pinning him in place. Zane’s hands waver again over one of the jagged wounds near Lloyd’s ribcage, the green of his uniform already dyed dark in blood, soaking over the careful stitches Pixal watched him put in himself.

Pixal finally finds her footing, reminding herself of the solid wood beneath her feet. She recalls the steady, smooth stitch Lloyd’s scarred fingers traced out for her.

“Here.” She takes the needle from Zane’s hands, squeezing his briefly before letting go. “I can do it.”

She sets the needle against Lloyd’s skin and wonders what kind of stitch it’d take to pull your heart back together.  

************

Pixal cannot cry. It’s one of the features Mr. Borg spent hours debating, weighing the pros and cons of giving her the ability before he was truly sure how rust-proof she was. He’d never gotten the chance to, as the Overlord had interrupted him, then Pixal had lost any body to give the ability to cry to, which had eliminated the need entirely.

She cannot cry, but she can hurt, and the rain that streams through her hair, dripping down her forehead spotting raindrops on her cheeks, could be tears if she pretended.

She doesn’t, though, because tears are a waste of water and overall useless in the grand scheme of things. She doubts they’d have helped her fare any better in the battle with Colossi, either.

Tears won’t bring anyone back.

Lloyd cries anyways. She can’t see him, but she can hear it in his voice, the way it wavers and breaks over the radio, nasally tones pronounced.

He’s barely able to gasp a few coordinates to her before he cuts the radio off abruptly. Pixal’s spent enough time with him to envision his scarred fingers snapping it off with a particular desperation, green sparking from his hands in distress.

She reminds herself those sparks are gone, now, bled away into nothing like the vivid green of Lloyd’s eyes had. The thought makes her sadder than she’d expected. She had a joke, about his eyes, she had wanted to make. Now that she has a body, and her own set of glowing green eyes, she’d — there was something he would’ve laughed at, she thought —

It doesn’t matter, now. Neither of them are likely to laugh anytime soon.

The coordinates blink brightly in her vision, and she’s almost surprised she managed to key them in. She’s running on autopilot, she supposes. It could be ironic — she’s been so desperate for control, it’s been so important that she’s the one feeling. Now, she’d give anything not to feel at all.

She lets out a shaky breath, dispelling the mist in her vision left from the rain. She leans forward, just over the edge of the building she’s crouched on, and her loose hair falls forward, silvery and synthetic and horribly tangled. Irritated, she reaches for another hair tie, and her hands falter around her wrist.

Lloyd had promised her a bracelet there. But he’d promised Kai would make the bracelet, hadn’t he, and Kai couldn’t make the bracelet if he was dead, could he.

Pixal blinks, her breath hitching. She’s been so numb to the pain of Zane’s loss, it hasn’t yet occurred to her that she’s losing Kai, too. And Jay, and Cole, and—

She sucks in the same shuddery kind of breath she’s seen Lloyd do, and carefully fists her hand in the area of her uniform above her chest. Her fingers dig in tightly, clutching in a hopeless attempt to feel some sort of comfort she knows she’ll never find.

But perhaps, for these few seconds, she can pretend the action is holding her together.

************

“It was inevitable,” Pixal tells Lloyd blankly, as he rasps out his third apology in the dark cover of their small hideout. “That one of us would fall, eventually. It had nothing to do with you.”

Lloyd swallows thickly. “It could’ve — it should’ve been—”

He doesn’t finish, but he doesn���t need to. Pixal’s hand shoots out, clamping tightly around his wrist, and there’s a beat of gratitude that she doesn’t need to rely on her voice alone anymore.

“Don’t.” Her voice is strung tighter than the tension in their shoulders. “You cannot change anything. You can’t, Lloyd, and you should not wish to — to change it that way.”

Lloyd jerks his hand free, wiping miserably at his eyes. He sets it back down within her reach, though, and if Pixal were any different, she’d take it.

But Pixal isn’t that different from Lloyd at all in the end, and neither of them reach for the other’s hand, no matter how desperately they crave the contact. Fear is more familiar, and it’s easier to give into it than it is the clawing need for comfort in your chest, after all.

“Still,” Lloyd finally whispers. “Still.”

Pixal swallows. She doesn’t disagree. If one of them had to fall, she knows she gladly would have taken it upon herself. She knows the others care for her, certainly, but she also knows her place in the grand scheme of things. They were six before she came along, and even now she’s kept far too many secrets to be fully counted among them.

She listens to Lloyd’s quiet, cracked voice, and she wonders if he’s thinking that they were five before he came along, younger than Pixal got to know him as.

Now they’re three, hollow and heartbroken. Though counting herself as one whole feels like cheating, right now.

Pixal squeezes her eyes shut, and wonders what it’s like to cry. Perhaps it helps, though Lloyd doesn’t look any less miserable.

************

“I was thinking,” Lloyd tells her, during one of the precious few quiet moments they have while trying to overthrow Garmadon and Harumi. Pixal’s turning the tiny tea flower he’d given her over in her hands, a part of her mind already marking articles about flower-pressing, another part wondering if it’s already too late to save the blossom. “About that promise we made, before all this.”

Pixal finally tucks the flower into the pocket of her uniform, pressed close to her chest. If anything, it can be a reminder of the lives that are safe — the life that’s coming back to her, if she has to drag him back from another realm herself. “And?”

Lloyd’s hands twist together. “Maybe we should focus more on staying alive.”

Pixal coughs out a laugh, breathless and startled. Lloyd wrinkles his nose at her, but his eyes are amused, even with their light lost. “I mean, the emphasis would be on keeping everyone else alive, but it’s kinda hard to do that if we’re dead, so…yeah. Priorities.”

“Staying alive should always be a priority,” Pixal corrects him, but she tugs the edge of his armor out of place with a smile.

“Why didn’t you teach me how to graffiti?” she nods at the designs on the green leather. “Or was this another Darkley’s tradition.”

“This is a refined art, called whatever I had on me that showed up on dark green,” Lloyd grumbles, fixing his armor. “I’ll teach it to you when we get out of this.”

“Another reason why staying alive would be a more productive focus,” Pixal points out. “I’ve heard teaching is easier when you’re alive.”

“And I’ve heard you’re a real riot,” Lloyd mutters. “It’s a promise, okay? I promise to teach you how to do cool armor design if you promise not to disappear into another realm on me.”

Pixal nods, adjusting her own armor tighter as screams ring out from a street nearby. “A promise, then.”

She keeps both the promise and the flower, the tiny blossom dried and faded by the time she’s escaped from the prison, heart racing with leftover adrenaline as Zane sweeps her into his arms. She clutches back every bit as tight, listening to his breathless laughter as cheers rise from the streets behind them, the smoke drifting across the early morning sky above them pale against the lightening blue. Pixal buries her face in his shoulder and breathes, tucking the moment away in her heart where it won’t fade. There’s a future stretching out before her, and she’s got the limbs to walk her path on her own, but all she wants right now is the steady ground beneath her feet and the bright laughter of what she’s managed to keep.  

Lloyd meets them shortly after, his own promise kept as he tears his gaze from his father, handing him off to the authorities before sprinting for the others. Pixal barely snags a moment alone with him, and even then no one’s particularly keen on letting him out of their sights.

He meets her eyes as they pick their way through the wrecked streets, the city more alive around them than it’s been in weeks. In the dark of the early morning, Pixal’s eyes glow a bright green, reflecting oddly in the windows they pass. It’s always been her preferred color, in contrast to Zane’s bright blue. Lloyd glances at her, his own eerily green eyes glowing back. He bites his lip, but it’s to hold back real laughter this time.

“My eyes were green first,” she tells him.

“Sue me,” he shoots back, before Kai’s throwing an arm over his shoulders again, tucking Lloyd neatly in between him and Nya. Pixal smothers a laugh at the look on his face, and tightens her own arm further where it’s linked firmly in Zane’s.  

It’s going to be an easy promise to keep, she thinks.  

[birds-punch]

The Three - Way Scandal

Summary: When Mickey Mouse accidentally stumbles upon his best friend, Donald Duck kissing two certain Caballeros; the mouse quickly takes it upon himself to investigate if the duck is cheating on Daisy or not.

Characters: Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Goofy, Daisy Duck, Panchito Pistoles, José Carioca, Several other Disney Characters.

Pairing: Donald x Panchito x José (Three Gay Caballeros), Donald x Daisy (past!)

Notes:

This is literally the first OT3 fanfic I’ve written in a long time and not to mention the very first time I actually written Mickey, Goofy and Minnie so I apologize if I made anyone OOC in this.

I also used Google Translate for the Spanish and Portuguese words that Panchito and José speaks in this fic, so feel free to tell me if I got anything wrong and I’ll quickly fix it.

“Hey Minnie, have you seen Donald? He wasn’t at the door earlier.” Mickey asked, getting off the stage after he introduced himself to the crowd.

Minnie looked up from her schedule, tapping her chin with her pen. “Sorry Mickey, I didn’t see him either. But Panchito and José are here tonight, why don’t you go ask them?”

Mickey’s expression lit up at the suggestion, “That’s a great idea! Thanks, Minnie!” He said giving her a wave, before walking off to find the two birds.

Surely finding two colourful looking birds would be easy right? Well apparently not, because after going through the entire theatre and checking every single table along with the foyer, (where he got the same answer from Daisy) the mouse still couldn’t find the duck. Letting out a tired sigh, Mickey went back to sit on the red couch that’s near the dressing rooms and the back entrance to the stage.

‘Where could Donald have gone off to?’ The mouse thought to himself, trying to come up with some ideas on where his best friend might’ve gone to.

As if the universe finally got tired of him trying to figure out, the sound of three muffled voices came into ears. Turning his head into the direction of the noise, Mickey found himself face to face with Donald’s dressing room door. Quickly getting off the couch, he walked over to the door about to knock when he noticed that it wasn’t even locked or closed properly, showing a gap large enough for anyone to peek through.

Despite knowing that’s incredibly rude to listening in on other people’s conversations and spying on them at the same time. Mickey couldn’t control his curiosity or his impatience from peeking through the gap, tuning his round ears towards the conversation.

The white duck fiddled with his work jacket, looking quite uneasy towards two familiar birds.

“Ooohh... I’m so nervous guys. I’m not sure if this is gonna go well for us in front of everyone.”

José immediately stepped in, a calm supportive smile on his beak, “It’ll be alright, meu patinho. Don’t forget that this not only you’ve been waiting for a há muito tempo, but also Panchito and I as well. We’ll be here by your side, up on that stage tonight.”

Panchito also stepped in, placing a hand on the duck”s shoulder. “Being nervioso for this big confession is normal, Mi Patito. But I promise everything will be alright in the end and if no one accepts us for what we have together,” the rooster then shook a fist in the air. “Iré a ellos y los haré comer mi puño!”

Mickey felt a rush of confusion go through his body. He doesn’t remember asking the Three Caballeros to perform for tonight or Minnie changing the schedule a little. They’re probably just here to visit their friend.

A smile finally forms on the mallard’s face, before wrapping his arms around the two Caballeros in a two way embrace.

“Thanks guys, I really needed that.”

“You do not need us to thank us, meu amor,” José replied, returning the hug. “Panchi and I tell you these things because we love you very much and are proud of how far you have come and how brave you are.” The parrot finished, taking Donald’s cheek into his hand.

“I love you guys too.”

Hearing those words was still as powerful as the very first time he told the pair his feelings of love a long time ago. Taking the initiative, José gently placed his beak over Donald’s before letting Panchito do the same.

Mickey’s mouth dropped open in shock at the scene that was happening right in front of his eyes. A million questions ran through his short circuited head. ‘When did this happened?!’, ‘Why didn’t Donald tell him and Goofy?’, ‘How long have they all been together?’

The mouse rubbed the back of his head, still trying to process what the Three Caballeros just did in Donald’s dressing room. He couldn’t believe that Donald had kept this secret relationship to himself for a very long time and so well that no one had even suspected that anything had changed about the white Pekin. But... if Donald didn’t tell anyone other than the fact that he either bi or gay (not saying that the mouse has anything against it.), does that mean it’s because he’s cheating on Daisy?

He immediately shook his head, trying to erase that last thought.

‘No way! Donald may cheat at anything, cheating in a relationship just isn’t like him!’ The star thought to himself furiously. A second thought then invaded his mind, ‘Then again... Whenever Donald and Daisy are together and Minnie and I go on double dates with them, he never really smiled on any of them.’

Mickey started to walk away from Donald’s dressing room towards the stage. But if that was the case, why would Donald even be cheating on her? Well, he’ll get some help trying to figure this out later. He must go and introduce the first cartoon to the guests.

“Hey Goofy!”

Said Goof looked up from the table he was serving.

“A-hyuck! Hi Mickey, what’s up?” He greeted, placing the ordered dish on the table.

The mouse looked around, before gesturing to his best friend to come down so he could whisper in his ear.

“There’s something I need your help with at the moment. It might have to do with Donald and Daisy.”

Goofy turned to look at his friend with surprise, already forgetting that he’s supposed to head back to the kitchen.

“Gawsh Mick. Is there something going on between Donald and Daisy?”

Mickey opened his mouth but then closed again, pursing his lips. Is this really a good idea? Getting Goofy involved in all this? Getting Donald to stop cheating on his girlfriend is one thing but he also doesn’t want to ruin Goofy’s friendship with the duck as well!

“Mickey, what wrong?” The dog asked, looking at how worried his best friend looked.

Drawn out of his thoughts by the waiter, Mickey looked up for several seconds then looked back at the table where Panchito and José were seated at, the two birds speaking to each other before getting off their seats and heading straight for the foyer, the parrot taking with him a glass of water. The mouse then turned back to look at his friend, still looking concerned as ever.

“Okay, Goofy I’ll tell ya. But not where everyone can see us.”

“WHAAAAAATTTTT?!!!!” Goofy’s voice echoed through the entire building.

“Shh!!” Mickey quickly shushed his best friend, looking around to see if Goofy’s outburst attracted any attention.

Goofy covered his mouth to prevent himself from yelling again.

“Are you sure, Mick? Is our pal Donald really cheating on Daisy with Panchito and José?” The black dog asked, still shocked by what his best friend told him.

Mickey scratched his chin, “Well I’m not really sure, until we get all the facts. It all might just be an inside thing they do together. But I did saw them heading for the foyer, so they be looking for Donald right now and we have to go see what they’re up to!”

With that, the two best friends quickly headed into the foyer before hiding themselves behind a pillar. There was Donald at the door greeting Pogo, Perdita and their one hundred and one children. After finishing with the last puppy, the duck wiped the sweat off his forehead in a show of exhaustion, before slowly looking up to see his fellow Caballeros coming up to see him again, a smile growing on his beak once José handed him the glass of water.

“Gawsh Mickey, I’ve never seen Donald look so happy to see someone like that before.” Goofy whispered, peeking out from behind the pillar with said mouse.

“Yeah...” the mouse couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealously at how happy the duck looked with his two fellow Caballeros. Not even he saw Donald this happy through all the past years they’ve spent together.

Panchito then said something that made Donald shook his head, smile still attached on his beak. Mickey believed he heard the duck saying he can’t take a break because he’s still quite busy tonight and that he wants to go over what he plans to say in front of the guests. José then placed a hand on the duck’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear that made the white mallard turned red before trying to cover his face, feigning annoyance as his two best friends (unknowingly) watched in surprise.

Before Mickey and Goofy could even try to process Donald’s extremely flushed face, Panchito then gently grabbed the duck’s head, pressing a soft kiss on the top of the duck’s beak before allowing the Brazilian Parrot have his share of kisses with the duck.

Goofy’s eyes bugged out and his mouth went slack jawed at the sight. He couldn’t believe his eyes! Panchito and José are smooching their best friend Donald and he seems to be enjoying it.

“I-It really is true... Our pal Donald is a cheating heart...” The dog muttered, still watching the three birds shower each other with loving affection.

“Yeah I... I guess there’s no point denying it anymore.” Mickey sighed, sounding quite sad that there’s a chance both his and Goofy’s friendship with Donald is ruined.

“What are we gonna do, Mick? Donald can’t keep cheating on Daisy like this!” Goofy whispered.

The mouse rubbed his chin in thought. “I’m not sure Goofy, but I remember the three of them discussing something about announcing to the guests up on stage tonight. Maybe if I can stop Donald and the other Caballeros from getting up on the stage, we might just be able to get this all sorted out.”

“Okay, but how’s that gonna work?”

“First; you go find Daisy while I’ll stall for time and once she’s here; Donald, Panchito and José will have to explain themselves to her, making them run out of time to get on stage and announce what they’re gonna say.”

Goofy saluted, “Got it Mick!” He than ran off to go find Daisy, leaving Mickey to continue watching the three birds talk to each other a little longer before making their way to the backstage, unaware of the spying mouse.

Donald wheezed from nervousness, going through some breathing exercises with Panchito and José, the two of them gently holding his shoulders.

“That’s it, Donal’. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out.” José spoke softly, helping the white duck.

The rooster gently shushed in his ear, “It’s alright, mi Patito. We’re right here besides you and we’ll be together on that stage.” He then nuzzled the duck’s head feathers in a comforting manner.

A tiny smile grew on the duck’s beak, from his lovers’ support and the slow nuzzling on his head. The smile slowly changed to a determined expression as confidence slowly began to surge within in, his chest starting to puff out.

“Alright, I can do this! Panchito, José, come on! Let’s get on that stage!!” The duck spoke with much spirit and energy, immediately marching for the stage in a straight line. The two Latin birds shared a look of surprise before breaking into a small run to keep up with the confident Pekin.

“Pato, wait!” José called out, stopping just behind Donald who was an inch near the curtain. “Shouldn’t we wait for senhor Mickey first?”

“Aw, phooey!” Donald scoffed. “We don’t have time to wait for Mickey to introduce us, I’ll do it myself!”

“Whatever you say, mi amigo.” Panchito shrugged, unable to stop a proud smile from growing on his beak at how brave and confident his American boyfriend is.

“Donald, wait!” Mickey panted, stopping just front of the three birds as he tries to catch his breath.

The three birds watched the exhausted mouse with bemusement before the white duck turned back towards the curtain, not listening to his best friend due to being too focused on his current goal.

“Sorry Mickey, but We gotta go up on stage now.” The duck then hooked arms with Panchito and José, all three of them heading onto the stage as Mickey watches helplessly.

Upon seeing the crowd of Disney Characters sitting at the tables with all eyes on them, the duck chuckled nervously as he pulls his shirt collar. The two Latin birds gave their American lover’s arms a supportive squeeze, still holding onto to him. Letting himself take a very deep breath, he managed to regain the strength to speak.

“H-Hi everybody. Unfortunately we’re not here to perform tonight,” Several disappointed groans echoed through the auditorium, the crowd obviously wanted to watch the trio sing, like the previous times they were here at the house. “But we got something incredibly important to tell all of you.” Unhooking his arms, Donald took his two lovers’ hands in his’.  Here we go, it’s the moment of truth.

“Panchito, José and I. We’re a-“

“Donald, stop! You can’t do this!!” A certain mouse exclaimed, quickly running up on the stage.

The American Pekin looked incredibly outraged, temper rapidly starting to rise. “WHAT?! WHY NOT?!”

Panchito and José quickly took hold off the angry duck’s arms to stop him from beating up the mouse, but they each still looked just as vexed as their boyfriend.

“Isn’t it obvious, Donald?” Mickey asked, trying his best to keep his cool and guard in case the duck goes after him.

“NO MICKEY, IT’S NOT IF YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT IN THE NAME OF DISNEY YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!” The duck responded, struggling to put up his fists.

“STOP CHEATING ON DAISY, DONALD!” Mickey finally yelled.

Every guest in the auditorium gasped in shock from what their favourite mouse just yelled at the duck. Whispers started to fly around the tables between each Disney Character, everyone wanted to know what’s going on.

Donald’s expression turn from anger to utter confusion, loosing the adrenaline from wanting to punch the mouse as Panchito and José looked at each other, just as equally confused.

“Say that again, Mick?” The white mallard said, having trouble trying to process what he was just accused of.

Mickey’s expression also melted in bemusement. “Stop cheating on Daisy, Donald...” he repeated, also sounding confused.

“What’s going on here, boys?” Said female duck asked, walking onto the stage with Goofy and Minnie following behind.

Every single eye in the building landed on Daisy, as Donald facepalmed himself, silently asking himself why is this happening to him.

Thankfully José spoke up for him, “Nossas desculpas senhorita Daisy. It seems our amigo, senhor Mickey is accusing our Patinho of cheating on you.”

Daisy’s eyes widen slightly, looking at Mickey then at Donald and the two birds before sighing to herself, shaking her head. “Mickey, you’ve got it all wrong. Donald isn’t cheating on me; we broke up a long time ago.”

Another loud gasp went through the audience who were watching everything that unfolded right in front of their eyes. Mickey open and closed his mouth, unable to find the words to say when Donald chimed in, fiddling with the rim of his uniform jacket.

“Mickey, I broke up with Daisy so I wouldn’t cheat on her with the two guys before I started dating them. She knew the whole time because I had to tell her I love Panchito and José, I didn’t want to lie to her.”

The mouse took a while to process what the two duck’s just told him. Another question however, was on his mind. “But if you told Daisy a long time ago, why didn’t you tell me or Goofy until now?”

Donald slumped slightly, still fiddling with his jacket. “Because it wasn’t safe for all three of us at the time.”

Everyone in the audience immediately went quiet as they watched, Panchito and José gently placed their hand on the duck’s shoulder with sadness in their usually bright and energetic eyes.

A sigh passed the duck’s beak. “When all three of us started dating two years after our movie came out in 1945, we couldn’t have an open relationship because of society at that time and aside from Daisy and my three nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie. no one would’ve understand what we have together. So all three of us with Daisy’s help, kept it a secret from everyone else.” Donald then let out a short laugh, “We’ve almost been caught a few times before, but somehow we still kept it under wraps.”

Shortly after the white mallard spoke his word, Panchito quickly took over.

“But you see Señor Mickey, now that sociedad has become more open minded and free, the Three Caballeros talked about finally coming out and we all agreed to tell everyone tonight at the House of Mouse.”

José then noticed that Mickey looked rather downcast, covering his face with his hands.

“Você está bem, Mickey?” The parrot asked just after Donald and Panchito noticed that something was wrong with the host.

“No.” The mouse replied, lifting his head up to look at his best friend, “I’m so sorry Donald. I should’ve asked you what’s going on between you and the other Caballeros instead of just assuming you’re cheating on Daisy and ruining your confession to everyone.” Mickey then turned to look at Goofy, “I’m really sorry I got you involved in this too, Goofy.”

The waiter simply brushed it off, “Aww, Mick. It’s fine. You were worried for both Donald and Daisy, I was too.”

Donald placed a hand on Mickey’s shoulder. “Well, the whole coming out wasn’t really how me and the boys expected it and I was pretty mad when you tried to stop us, but in the end we managed to do it and it seems everyone here, is okay with it too.”

As if on cue, everyone in the crowd started clapping and cheering as a show of support as Mickey pulled his best friend in a hug, saying his own words of support.

“What a night this turned out to be, huh?” Donald asked his best friend before saying a goodbye to Winnie the Pooh and Piglet.

“Ha ha, it sure has.” Mickey’s smile weaken a little. “I still can’t believe how much of a jerk and an idiot, I acted towards you and your boyfriends though.”

Donald sighed, “Mickey I already told you, it’s alright. It was kind of my fault as well since I didn’t tell before the show started.”

“You wanted it to be a surprise and I kind of ruined it.” The mouse rubbed the back of his head. “But it still turned into a surprise somewhat.” He remarked, laughing a little.

“Yeah, did you see the look on everyone’s faces when you accuse me of going behind Daisy’s back? That was priceless!”

The two best friends fell into a small fit of laughter when José rushed back inside the club, just stopping at their feet.

“Meu bem, it’s an emergência!” The green parrot said in between pants.

Donald quickly rushed to his Brazilian lover’s side. “What’s wrong, Joe? Are you hurt?!”

José shook his head, smoothing out his cream coloured jacket. “Não it’s not me. Do you remember, what you Americans called him...uh what’s the termo?” He snapped his fingers, trying to think. “Ah! That air headed dog called Gaston? He just said some really palavras horríveis about the three of us and Panchito just challenged him to a gunfight!”

The duck wakked in shock before grabbing a chair and running outside.  “Panchito! Hang on, I’m coming!” He then ran off onto the street.

“Donal’ wait, you’re going the wrong direção!” The Parrot turned to the mouse and shook his hand in a way that would’ve made the rooster proud. “Sinto muito Mickey, but I must go and help my namorados now. Obrigado pelo seu gentil apoio, despedida!”

With that, José ran into the direction of the duck, swinging his black umbrella around like a sword as Mickey watched on from the inside of the House of Mouse.

[vidcund4ever]

I decided to answer these questions about my Sim related ships. NOTE: These are just my preferences for my gameplay! I don’t dislike or judge other people’s ships in their games! In fact, I think a lot of them are neat. x3

01. Vidcund x Cassandra <3

02. Vidcund or Cassandra x anyone else. I don’t know. I don’t see anyone else being a good match for either of them.

03. I’m going to keep this Q&A to The Sims franchise. My first ship was Chris x Melissa Roomies in TS1.

04. I ship Vidcund x Cassandra because they’re both shy nerds who have a lot in common, and I picture them both having a love for plants. I don’t think any other girl would see past Vidcund’s demeanor. As for the usual pairing of Cassandra x Don or Darren... Don is a himbo, and I don’t think Cassandra would be into a guy like that. (In my headcanon, she’s only with him to find more information about her mother’s disappearance.) As for Darren, I think his last name says it all: Dreamer. He’s out of touch with reality and would never actually pursue Cassandra. Even if he did and they became more than friends, I don’t think she’d ever live up to his fantasies.

05. I could never figure out who would be a good match for Vidcund until I started sharing headcanons with @nanominyo, and they shared theirs about Viddie and Cassie, and I couldn’t believe I’d never thought of it before! They’re perfect together! ^^

06. For a (very) short while, I had paired Dominic Newlow with Circe to try and make what happened between them in the PSP storyline less heartbreaking, trying to make what happened consensual, but you can’t erase what actually happened, which the sims community reminded me of. :( Poor Circe... Please keep him away from her...

07. I don’t think I ship a couple that most people don’t like (minus the mistake I mentioned above). I think, at worst, my ships are considered lukewarm. If I happen to have one you don’t like, you can comment it. I’m fine with that. XD It could be interesting!

08. Hmm. A ship most people like that I hate? Honestly, I don’t hate any ships (minus, you guessed it: the one I came up with between Dominic x Circe), but there are a few I wouldn’t do, like Pascal and Nervous. I do think it’s a cute pairing, but I also think Pascal is more of a parent figure in Nervous’ life rather than a romantic one. He has a maternal instinct, as we can tell from how he fathers Tycho. Also, I’m not entirely sure he’s over his crush on Circe?

09. Besides Vidcund x Cassandra? XD Buzz x Bella. It’s not a lasting relationship, but it’s one I think makes sense since Bella doesn’t actually like Strangetown. She thinks it’s, well, strange, and Buzz is the most “normal” person she’s met there.

10. Mortimer x Bella. I know they gave off Gomez and Morticia vibes in TS1, but Mortimer remarried very quickly after her disappearance in TS2, and Bella confirmed in the PSP game that she’d only married him for his money.

11. Are we still talking about my favorite ship, or...? I’m going to assume another pairing because I’ve already talked about my favorite one too much. XD Let’s talk about Tank x Johnny, because they’re another ship of mine. OTP, all the way!

12. JRO is popular, and I can see why. They’re all misfits one way or another, and seem very explorative like most sims their age are. It is kind of funny how majority of simmers give them this alternative style because I picture them more awkward than anything. XD I’m unsure whether or not I ship them as a poly relationship. I do see both Johnny and Ripp liking Ophelia, but not necessarily dating her at the same time. Maybe I’ll come around to it...

13. Kristen x Erin. I think they make a cute pairing, but I’ve only seen a couple other simmers ship them. Maybe they come off as straight? I mostly see them end up with male sims, but Kristen x Erin have great compatibility. (Taurus x Aries.) I also think the differences they have, like Kristen being ambitious and Erin being more carefree, maintains balance. Kristen learns to loosen up and accept her true self (like stop straightening her curly hair and start dressing more masculine), and Erin tries to take things more seriously (like pursuing an actual career).

14. I don’t know if I’m doing this right. I’m rating any couple? Because if I am, I’m rating Johnny x Ophelia a 6/10, maybe? They enjoy their teen years together, but as they get older they realize that they’re better off as friends. They have different priorities, as well as viewpoints on life. Ophelia is nervous and paranoid, and Johnny wants someone he can go on adventures with.

15. The way Tank and Johnny tease and fight one another until they admit their real feelings. Even after they do, Johnny keeps up the teasing. He loves the way he makes Tank blush. x3

16. My favorite canon moment of Annie Howell x Nervous is when she brings him back from the dead. He dies in the PSP game, but I don’t want him dead (and neither does Annie), so Annie pleas with Death who, obviously, is willing to make an exception for his son... although he resurrects Nervous as a Zombie. Even so, I think it’s sweet that she brings him back to get married and have a kid and try to live a (somewhat) normal life.

17. AU? As in Alternative Universe? I don’t have one of those. XD

18. I don’t know why, but I have to rant about Dina x Michael. Well, rant more about how they’re typically seen. It’s true that Dina cheated on Michael by kissing Don, but I don’t think the kiss was mutual. (Don isn’t afraid to “take charge” of a situation.) Looking at her memories, her love for Michael is deeper than most think — or that’s my opinion, anyway. After Michael died, Dina gave up on love and decided money would fill the hole in her heart.

19. If you go through my Tumblr, you’ll find plenty of memes that remind me of a lot of different pairings. XD

20. “Today” by Jefferson Airplane is one of the songs I can hear Vidcund play when he sits alone in the dark, thinking about Circe. I don’t pair them together, but for a long while Vidcund thought they’d make the perfect pair.

21. Everyday is a date for Circe and Loki, like conducting experiments on Nervous and eventually Gimi Branko at home, and making evil plans over dinner at a fancy restaurant.

22. I don’t think any of my non-canon pairings would ever become canon. I think the one that’d have the best chance is Johnny x Tank because GAY <3

23. No, I haven’t written fan fiction or drawn my ships. I keep my fiction in game, and I’d love to draw something, but I suck at drawing. XD

24. That’s all for now.

[bloodfromthethorn]

Broken Trust

Even now, hours later, he couldn’t shake the memory of Jack’s shoulder driving into his sternum, a too-tight grip on his bicep forcing him sideways as the man he trusted more than anyone else in the world physically moved through him rather than listen to what he had to say.

Tag to 2x02. Mac didn't walk away from his encounter with Jack as unscathed as he might wish to appear.

Also on AO3

..

Mac knew he was being stupid.

Yes, Jack threatening him with violence was no small matter and he was certainly justified in his surprise and betrayal, but he knew that he shouldn’t read any further into it. Jack had just been worried about Riley and hadn’t been thinking straight and in all likelihood, that was absolutely all it was. There was no deeper meaning, no hidden message. He shouldn’t be dwelling on it. He definitely shouldn’t be sitting on his deck at 3:30 in the morning contemplating all the times Jack had promised to have his back, to keep him safe, only to immediately turn on him when Mac put himself between his Overwatch and someone Jack cared about more.

It wasn’t like he didn’t get it: Jack had technically known Riley for far longer than he’d known Mac and he’d cared for her when she’d been a child – of course he was going to feel paternal. Mac had never been under any illusion that the relationship he had with Jack would outweigh that and he wouldn’t want it to, but he’d kind of thought that he still at least ranked somewhere near the top. Was that being presumptuous? A few days ago he wouldn’t have doubted it for a second, but now he couldn’t help but think maybe he’d been projecting his own feelings onto Jack and the reality of the situation was actually nothing like he’d thought it was.

But, then again, that was just a little overly dramatic, no? Jack had proven willing to go to the mat for Mac time and again, and this was the first time since their ill-fated meeting that the man had ever seemed willing to come to blows with him. They’d rib and tease each other, but he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times there’d been true animosity between them. Mac’s quiet crisis of faith was surely nothing more than an overactive imagination and a history of being second choice to the people he loved.

And even if he wasn’t imagining anything, Jack had apologised for all of it – or at least he’d tried to. In the end, despite having waited to hear it, Mac had found that he just couldn’t stomach the thought of listening to Jack try to justify himself, to directly tell him that his loyalty to the woman who was basically his daughter was more important to him than his loyalty to Mac. Instead he’d shut down the apology before it could reach the light of day, brushing off Jack’s concern with a shrug and an easy smile. Better to let everyone think that it really was no big deal and was easily put behind them, no matter how far that might be from the truth. If Jack had had any notion of how badly Mac had been flying to pieces inside his own head, he hadn’t shown it.

So far as Mac could tell, everyone had mutually agreed that the whole thing had been a bizarre incident of heightened emotions with no deeper meaning and they could all quite happily sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. If only things were so simple for him.

Even now, hours later, he couldn’t shake the memory of Jack’s shoulder driving into his sternum, a too-tight grip on his bicep forcing him sideways as the man he trusted more than anyone else in the world physically moved through him rather than listen to what he had to say. Bruises he’d been very careful to hide pulsed quietly beneath his skin.

It shouldn’t matter, he knew that. Jack had been going out of his mind with worry and Mac knew better than anyone how much he could overreact if someone he cared about was in trouble but at the same time… He’d put Mac in trouble. Mac wasn't in any doubt that if Riley hadn’t chosen that particular moment to convince Bedlam to trust her, he would be nursing a black eye – or worse – by now.

Worse still was that Bozer had also been in the unfortunate position of having to get between Jack and Riley that very same day and he’d managed to walk away entirely clean. Mac was unendingly grateful for that of course and he’d never wish any harm on his friend, but he couldn’t deny that it stung to know Jack wouldn’t raise a hand against Boze when he’d been perfectly happy to against Mac barely an hour earlier.

He ran a shaking hand through his hair for the hundredth time, huffing out a heavy breath as he battled to get his thoughts under control. This was normally what Jack was good at, helping him to get out of his own head and see the truth of things so he could work through the problem, but even if it hadn’t been the early hours, Mac wasn’t about to disturb him with this. Either he was wrong and being paranoid and there really wasn’t anything to worry about, or he was right and asking about it would mean having to hear one of his worst fears realised.

He wasn’t really up to confronting either outcome tonight.

Instead he was stuck out here, unable to sleep but too tied up in knots to try doing anything productive. The best he could manage was sitting beside the unlit firepit with a beer he hadn’t touched once. Letting himself go and getting drunk was distantly tempting, but work tomorrow was going to be tough enough as it was without throwing a hangover into the mix. Besides, if he did that, then people were going to ask questions and there really was no unembarrassing way of saying ‘I’ve been having a bit of a breakdown because a man I considered a brother nearly punched me in the face and I’m having to rethink a decade-long relationship.’

Mac’s usual approach to emotional problems had always been resorting to logic – with mixed results. It was all well and good to explain his childhood dog’s perpetual escape attempts as animal instinct rather than personal dislike, but it became a lot more complicated when he tried to pinpoint the reason a man would abandon his only son and never look back. Unfortunately, this problem looked like it was going to fall into the latter category.

The facts were thus: Jack loved Riley like a daughter; Riley had been in imminent, but not certain, danger; Mac had put himself between the two; Jack had chosen to disregard what Mac was saying in favour of physically moving him aside so he could reach Riley.

There was no logic in the world that could explain that away without demeaning Mac’s relationship with Jack in a way that was deeply hurtful.

It wasn’t a competition and even thinking of it in those terms left Mac swallowing down guilt and disgust at his own neediness. Jack cared loudly and widely; he was in possession of a heart so large, Mac was quite certain he could love a hundred people equally without breaking a sweat. It was no great stretch or challenge to accept that Jack was capable of loving both Riley and Mac, and that those two things had absolutely nothing to do with each other. There was nothing unreasonable about that. 

So it wasn’t a competition, but if it had been then Mac had very definitely lost.

God, he needed to get it together. He was self-aware enough to realise that the only real path forward here was to forgive Jack the minor transgression and move on, accepting it for what it had been without trying to place any excess baggage onto it. If he really couldn’t manage that alone, Jack would no doubt be willing to offer the apology he’d tried to give earlier, should Mac reveal his concerns. Nothing anyone said or did would take back what had happened, and wishing otherwise was childish. He just needed to put it behind him.

Then again, that evidently wasn’t going to happen tonight.

He’d ended up out on the deck sometime around midnight, waiting sleeplessly in his bed until Bozer was well and truly unconscious before sneaking out, driven by a vague desire for air and a need to see the stars. He was only one for two on that – a heavy blanket of cloud had managed to erase the few bright night sparks that usually managed to make it past the light pollution – but that wasn’t such a bad score. At the very least, the still quiet made a nice contrasting balm to his inner turmoil.

The quiet didn’t last however – the hour hand on Mac’s watch had just started creeping past 4 when he heard the purr of a familiar engine pulling up outside and he breathed a long sigh. He had no idea what had drawn Jack there – he’d often joked about having a sixth sense when Mac was in trouble, but he couldn’t possibly have known about this – and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out. He toyed with the idea of slipping back into his bedroom before Jack had a chance to make it into the house, but he was sufficiently torn that he was still contemplating that course of action when he heard the door unlatch.

There were a few moments of quiet footsteps tracing through the house, first checking on the bedrooms and then, after presumably finding Mac’s empty, more hurried movement until the door to the deck squeaked open and Jack’s boots appeared in the corner of Mac’s vision. Exhausted and frankly too tired to even try to pretend otherwise, Mac didn’t look up.

“What are you doing here?” He asked quietly. His whole evening had felt fragile and a superstitious part of him he’d never been able to ditch warned that it was in danger of shattering if he didn’t speak softly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” was the equally gentle reply. “You?”

“It’s been a long few days.” The words sounded heavy, containing too much meaning. He took an unenthusiastic swig of beer to cover it. “There’s more in the fridge if you want one,” he added, shaking the bottle a little.

“Little early to start drinking, isn't it?”

“To be fair, it was late when I started.”

“…I think that might make it worse hoss.”

He snorted indelicately and took another pull. Now that he’d started drinking it, he found himself vaguely comforted by the familiar flavour. There wasn’t enough alcohol in it to do more than warm him, but the sensation wasn’t unwelcome.

Jack seemed to sigh, then his boots disappeared as he worked his way around behind Mac to sit beside him on the lip of the firepit. Now on the same level, Mac couldn’t avoid meeting his gaze. He looked as tired as Mac felt, so he said as much.

His Overwatch offered an unconvincing smile. “I’ll have you know that I look good no matter what,” he replied, but it was clear his heart wasn’t in it. “Truth be told, I feel like I’ve been kicked by a horse.”

That raised concern. “Are you getting ill? I think I’ve still got some of those antipyretics in the cupboard-”

He made a jerking motion to get to his feet, but Jack waved him back down before he could go anywhere. “Nah, it’s nothing man, don’t worry about it. It’s just like you said – been a long few days. Think I’m still working through it all.”

Mac felt his heart sink in his chest. Of all the conversations he didn’t want to have right that second. “I know how much you didn’t want Riley out there. I can’t imagine how stressful this has all been,” he said, aiming for compassionate and just barely hitting the mark. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

Jack, weirdly, looked sheepish. “You and me both kid, but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

There was a pause as Mac processed that and came up empty. “Oh?”

Despite the fact that whatever was going on in Jack’s head had been fierce enough to drive him all the way to Mac’s house in the middle of the night, he suddenly looked tremendously uncertain. One hand snaked up to rub at the back of his neck, dragging his head down so that he didn’t have to maintain eye contact. Mac half expected him to start shifting in his seat.

“Jack? What’s going on?”

He sighed gustily, apparently rooting around for his courage, and met Mac’s gaze again. “Look, I know you brushed it off before and I appreciate your understanding and all that but-” He hesitated ever so briefly, then the rest came pouring out of him like he couldn’t stop it. “Man, I was way out of line yesterday. Like so far past the line I couldn’t even see it any more. Yeah I was stressed about Riley and I ain’t ever going to be sorry for looking out for her, but that doesn’t change the fact that for a split second I was willing to go through you to do it. There’s nothing that could ever make that right and I need you to know how fucking sorry I am.”

He broke his gaze away again, bringing up his other hand to bury his face in his palms in pained desperation. Mac blinked at him in surprise, utterly stunned.

“And it’s stupid anyway because I know how much you care about Riley and me, and I know that you were trying to stop me to protect us both – I should have just seen-” He bit himself off, grumbled, pressed on more calmly: “I was so focused on my own inability to see what Riley could do that I lost sight of her, the mission, and you. It’s my job to keep you safe – that’s my only job – and I was so far out of my own head that I put you in danger because of my own stupidity. There is nothing about that that’s okay and even if you don’t need me to say it, I had to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m not expecting forgiveness because shit, I really messed it up this time, but for whatever it’s worth, I swear I’ll never do that again.”

Mac forced himself to swallow, desperately willing his exhausted brain to kick itself into gear and process everything Jack had just dumped on him. When he’d considered asking for an apology after all, this hadn’t been quite what he had in mind. In response to it, all he could manage was a sort of stunned silence.

Jack rubbed at his face one last time, then pulled himself upright again and forcefully met Mac’s eyes. He looked as though he was bracing for a hit, but he didn’t flinch. Mac, for his part, had absolutely no idea what he was possibly supposed to say.

A part of him desperately wanted to grasp the lifeline he was being offered, accept the explanation as the reassurance it was evidently meant to be, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. After a lifetime of those he cared about proving that Mac was a very easy person to leave, some self-preservation instinct was finally picking up its head and warning him not to trust so blindly. A few days ago he had been utterly certain that Jack would never willingly hurt him – now, he knew what it was to hear his Overwatch’s voice dip low and threatening, warning him that if he didn’t step aside, he was going to get hurt. He knew what it was to go cold at the humiliation he’d felt when faced with a thoroughly dismissive, ‘Boy, get out of my face.’ He knew what it was to have Jack look at him and see nothing but an obstacle in his way.

Hours too late and in the worst possible moment, Mac suddenly realised that the anger he’d been quietly cultivating wasn’t really anger at all.

As he always seemingly managed to do, Jack chose that same moment to pick up on the fact that something had gone wrong with his partner, because his earnestness immediately dropped away behind guilty concern. He hesitated for several heartbeats, absorbing whatever was going on in Mac’s expression, then tilted his head consideringly. “When you stopped me apologising earlier,” he said very slowly, “You didn’t mean it when you said it was fine, did you?”

Mac forced himself to shrug, trying to shake looseness into limbs that had frozen in place. “Like I said, Riley’s lucky to have you. You were just watching out for her.”

“Yeah, and throwing you under the bus in the process. God, I almost- I could have hurt you Mac.”

Now was probably a very bad time to reveal that he had hurt him. At least the bruises were in places easy to hide.

“You didn’t,” he lied instead, running his eyes over the skyline rather than let Jack see the mistruth in them. “I appreciate the apology, I really do, but I understand. Riley’s family, Jack, of course you’re going to do everything you can to defend her.”

Jack let out a humourless snort. “You say that like you’re not every bit as much my family as she is.”

There was a sudden, telling silence. Jack blinked. Mac’s gaze stayed fixed on the horizon.

“You- You do know that… right?” Jack said haltingly, his voice so quiet as to be almost unheard even in the silence. When there was no immediate response, it turned more forceful. “Mac, tell me you know that.”

He swallowed hard. In the face of such honest concern, Mac couldn’t bring himself to lie or to brush it off, but at the same time he had no idea how to explain the tangle of thorns in his head without sounding as stupid as he was afraid he was being.

“Jack,” he started carefully, weighing up the words as he went, “We’ve been partners for years now. I know how important that is and I’m grateful for it every day, but… But you knew Riley when she was just a kid.” He twitched his hands in a vague attempt at encompassing the sheer scale of their relationship. “I get that things have been kind of weird between the two of you, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s basically your daughter. I should never have tried to get in the middle of that.”

“If you hadn’t gotten in the middle of it, I would have gotten her killed,” Jack shot back immediately. “You did everything right Mac. I’m the one who fucked up here.”

There wasn’t a lot Mac could really say to that since it was technically accurate, but he was spared the effort by Jack refusing to take the bait of his deflection.

“And besides,” he continued firmly, “That’s not even slightly the point here. You- You really don’t think that I see you as family?”

Goddamn it he sounded hurt and that was so not what Mac had been going for. He sucked in a breath and cursed himself when it shook. “That’s not- That wasn’t what I was trying to say,” he managed lamely, wanting to reassure but deeply unwilling to make any presumptions. That was precisely what had gotten him into this mess.

Jack’s eyes were dark and sad and knowing. Mac could scarcely stand to look at them. “Maybe not, but it’s what you’re thinking, right? You’ve got it in your head that everything that happened was because Riley’s more important to me than you?”

Hearing the words said aloud in such a level, careful tone sent a rush of blazing shame right through him. It sounded so pathetic when put so simply. This time the anger that burned hot on its heels was genuine, though aimed more at himself than anyone else. He shook his head sharply as though to rid himself of the feeling but he still couldn’t quite meet Jack’s eyes when he said, “No. I know it doesn’t work like that. I’m not some kid in need of coddling Jack. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“You’re tired because you’re sitting on your deck at four in the morning instead of sleeping, and I’ve known you long enough to know that happens when you can’t get something out of your head. So, if I’m wrong, what is it? Because it has been a shitty few days but somehow I get the feeling this isn’t about a missing EMP or you having to figure us a way out of a crashing plane with no chutes.” His expression was complicated; some combination of worried and open, like he was pleading with Mac to just speak with him. “C’mon Mac. Talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Mac shook his head slowly, too many thoughts crowding in at once to make sense of anything. “Jack-”

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing. Mac-” Jack bit off whatever he was about to say in frustration, shaking himself. “God I really fucked up. Should’ve known you’d come to the worst possible conclusion. Never did know your own worth.” He ran a tired hand over his face, then drew himself upright and faced Mac head on, a rare seriousness shining in his eyes. “Okay, this is something I clearly should be saying more often since you still don’t seem to believe it but, you’re my brother Mac. You’re every bit as much my family as Ri is and I know that I made you doubt that, but it never for one second stopped being true. You hear me? I’m so sorry for what I did outside that warehouse – you didn’t deserve it one bit and I should never have done it. But it didn’t mean what you’re thinking it did.”

“I’m not thinking anything Jack,” he said quietly, even while his brain raced away from him. He wanted so, so badly to believe what he was hearing and Jack had sworn long ago to always be honest with him. To Mac’s knowledge he’d never once broken that promise…

But it was also exactly what Mac wanted to hear. Of course he was going to be inclined to believe it.

“That’s never once been true and you know it,” Jack shot back, not losing an ounce of his seriousness. 

Mac didn’t rise to the implied joke. A sudden swell of frustration at Jack’s presumption climbed his throat and he was scoffing before he could help himself. “Tell me then,” he said sharply. “What exactly is it I’m thinking?”

Jack flinched lightly at the acid in his tone, but he held Mac’s gaze steadily like he was prepared to take any blow he threw his way. “I’ve never tried to pretend I can follow everything that goes through your head hoss. I don’t have near the IQ for that. But I think even you’d agree that I’ve gotten pretty good at following you.”

Mac’s face tried to twitch into a scowl but he forced it down with a will of iron. 

His partner continued without interruption. “Now maybe I’m overstepping here, but I’m gonna bet that right now you’re feeling angry and hurt because you trusted me and I let you down. I let you down real bad.” There, he did hesitate very slightly, before deciding to voice what they both already knew. “I know I’m not the first person to do that, not by a long shot. You’ve had to deal with all kinds of shit you never deserved, but betrayal isn’t something anyone gets used to.”

Burgeoning anger aside, that felt like a step too far. Mac shook his head sharply. “You didn’t betray anyone-”

“Yes, I did,” he cut in firmly. “I betrayed your trust. I promised to protect you, but I got so caught up in my own bullshit hang-ups that I broke that promise. You’ve got every reason to be pissed as all hell about that Mac, don’t let anyone tell you you don’t.”

“You were just trying to help Riley,” Mac said again, sounding weak to his own ears. Everything Jack was saying was everything he’d thought he’d needed to hear, but now that it was all laid out so plainly before him, the only sensation he could summon was bittersweet resignation. Jack wasn’t wrong - he felt betrayed. 

“Yeah, maybe. That’s not an excuse.”

There was a long, still pause. “No,” he finally admitted quietly. “It isn’t.”

The corners of Jack’s eyes were damp when he nodded, accepting and agreeing with that in equal measure. He looked crushed. “And you deserve every apology I can give you for that. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to take a swing at me.”

Mac shot him a dark look, irritated by the joke, but he found only seriousness in Jack’s face; he’d meant it. “I’m not going to hit you,” he said, offended at the implication. 

“I know you won’t,” Jack soothed carefully. “I’m just trying to say - very badly - that I do know how badly I’ve fucked this up. I broke a promise to you that I swore my life on and you know I don’t take that sort of thing lightly. I can’t ever explain how sorry I am for it, but I can spend every moment you let me trying to make up for it.”

They let that sit between them for a long few minutes. Mac felt torn; even with the anger and hurt and fucking devastation rocking around in his chest he could admit that Jack was saying everything right. The real question then was whether or not Mac could trust it when Jack had already blindsided him once. 

His Overwatch’s smile was bleak and pained. “I can see that brain of yours whirring away,” he said at length. “Trying to work out if I’m telling the truth, huh?”

As he said it, his façade crumbled ever so slightly and for just a moment, he looked deeply, unbearably sad. Like he knew he’d earned every inch of that mistrust and was regretting it with every fibre of his being. In all their time together, Mac had seen Jack wear that expression exactly once: a thousand years ago in an Italian hospital room as he told a barely conscious Mac that Nikki hadn’t made it. The context might have been different, but those eyes- their grief was the same.

That- that Mac could believe. No one who looked like Jack did in that moment could be insincere. Jack was a hell of a good liar when he needed to be – requirement of the job, really – but the raw, honest heartbreak in that expression was not something even he could fake. For the first time since Jack walked towards him with violence in his eyes, Mac found that he could trust this, if nothing else.

No matter what had happened between them, how readily Jack had been willing to throw away every promise he’d ever made to Mac, he could see the evidence of his regret right in front of him. It didn’t undo what he’d done, not by a long shot, but it was… something. 

Something important. 

Maybe something so important it was really the only thing that actually mattered. 

There was no amount of words that could entirely mend the hurt that Jack had wrought that day, but perhaps they were enough to start the process. Jack was right here, swearing to do better, and despite a lifetime of reasons not to trust an offer like that, Mac couldn’t help but hear the ring of truth. For now, perhaps that had to be enough. Healing always came with time and with Jack willing to make amends, Mac had a feeling that they’d get there together in the end. 

He sucked in a hard breath, and finally, finally forced himself to let his anger and hurt go. They would do nothing for him now.

“I believe you,” he said, and meant it. He caught Jack’s eye. “And I accept your apology. My own messed up head aside, I do know that you were only trying to protect Riley.”

“Hey now, your head’s doing just fine. I’m the one tying it up in knots, even when I should know better. You’ve been given plenty of reason to think the worst of people in your life Mac. That it’s not your first response is- well. Incredible, I guess. I don’t blame you a bit for not trusting me after… Everything.”

Mac’s eyes dropped to the floor again, feeling oddly self-conscious about how easily Jack was able to see through him. It was always easy to forget how little time they had really known each other when Jack could look at him and immediately see the heart of whatever was bothering him. Bozer might have known him for longer, but Jack had still been the one who got to see the darker sides of him born in desert heat and sandy plains. That was exactly why this whole mess had hurt as much as it had.

“I always trust you Jack,” he said honestly. “You caught me off guard, but nothing is about to change that.”

Jack blinked hard, swallowing as he processed that. “After everything that happened this week, I know that I don’t deserve that but you don’t know how good that is to hear, man.” He rubbed at his face, pulling his emotions back in line. “And just so you know, while I appreciate you accepting my apology and all, I know I’m nowhere near done earning your forgiveness. What I did was-”

His eyes suddenly turned distant, and whatever strength had bled back into his frame drained in a rush. He looked… fragile.

“Jack, you don’t need to earn anything,” Mac said, suddenly feeling vaguely guilty for taking it all so badly while at the same time desperately trying to throttle that sensation. He wanted to forgive Jack – already had, if he was honest with himself – but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been right to be upset in the first place. “I’m glad you apologised, no matter what I told you before. That’s all I needed.” He shrugged self-deprecatingly. “Well, that and for you to talk some sense into me, maybe.”

“That’s my job, remember?” Jack said with a shrug of his own. “Keeping your head on straight is half the battle.” He winced in the same instant as he said it, apparently realising the irony in him being the one to throw Mac off this time. He visibly forced himself to straighten out, trying to accept the truth of Mac’s forgiveness. “Well, lesson learned, I guess. Just wish I didn’t do it by hurting you.”

Mac snorted softly, even though his heart wasn’t really it in. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“That is one hundred percent true,” Jack agreed without hesitation, “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was a dick and you caught the worst of it. Which would be bad enough at the best of times, but in this case you were only doing what you could to protect me and Riley, which is like, I don’t know, a double dick move on my part?” He broke off momentarily with a frown as if trying to work out the maths of that specific scenario, then shook himself like a dog shaking off water. “Whatever, the point is-” A pause. “What was my point again?”

Despite himself, Mac snickered. “I think it was something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry I was an ass, I won’t do it again’. That about sum it up?”

Jack grinned in that knowing way he did when he’d succeeded in pulling Mac out of his own head without him realising. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.” He sobered, catching Mac’s gaze. “And I mean it. I’m not ever going to take a swing at you man, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you never have to feel like I might again.”

 Mac’s first instinct was to brush the reassurance off once more, remind Jack that he already had his trust, but he caught himself before he could. He was determined not to punish himself for reacting badly to something he had every reason to react badly to, and besides, it seemed like Jack needed to say it just as much as Mac needed to hear it. After everything that had happened that day, it felt good to hear that promise put into words. “Thank you,” he said at length, letting truth settle into his tone. 

He went to say more, but the words were lost as a jaw-cracking yawn forced its way up his throat. Jack chuckled quietly at him. 

“Yeah, I feel that,” he said, dispensing with his heavy tone for something lighter, something healing. “Think it might be past time we got you to bed, man. You look knackered.”

“I am,” he admitted. There was very little point pretending otherwise; he knew what he looked like. “You’ve got to be exhausted too.”

Jack shrugged easily. “Yeah, but I’ll get out of your hair. I knew you weren’t exactly expecting visitors when I decided to turn up unannounced at four in the morning.”

“That’s literally never stopped you,” he said, rolling his eyes. Truthfully, he was glad Jack had shown up when he did - it was only thanks to it that he thought he might actually be able to get some honest to god sleep before he had to show up at work tomorrow- or, well, later today. “You’re not driving home this late. Just sleep here.”

“I didn’t exactly bring a go-bag with me.”

“Unless you’ve changed dramatically in size in the last two months, I’m pretty sure the clothes you left in my dresser are still going to fit you.”

Jack looked like he was bending, wanting to give in to the comfort readily being offered, but something dark and wary in his eyes was holding him back. That line of guilt that ran rigid along the back of his shoulders had eased slightly during the course of their conversation, but it still lingered on even now. Mac had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t going to lose it for a long time. 

“I don’t want to impose,” he said after a strained moment of silence. His gaze dropped to his lap. “I think I’ve disturbed your sleep enough tonight to last a lifetime, bud.”

“In case it wasn’t abundantly obvious, you weren’t disturbing anything.”

“Just ‘cause I wasn’t here, doesn’t mean it wasn’t my fault.”

Mac couldn’t help but roll his eyes again. “C’mon man, it’s done. We’re all good, remember? But if you keep arguing about driving home at four AM when you look like you’re going to fall asleep at the wheel, then you are going to keep me up when I would much rather be sleeping. Matty’s already going to be mad as it is; we don’t need to pile sleep deprivation on top.”

His Overwatched hissed, pulling on a peeved frown. “You’re too sneaky for your own good, you know that?”

Mac released what felt like his first genuine laugh in days and drained the rest of his beer, easing himself carefully to his feet. “Someone might have mentioned it in the past. Come on, big guy. I’m not carrying you inside if you pass out here.”

“You could just wake me up.”

“And give up the opportunity to listen to you griping about that bad back you pretend you don’t have? Ooh, that’s a tough call.”

“You’re an ass.”

Mac’s laugh chased them into the darkened house.

[frenchlangdon]

what is it you truly want

Gif creds to @michaelsapostle

Haven’t written for this lil story in a couple of months so thought I’d try and revive it. I have a few ideas but truly don’t know where this’ll go, which usually makes for a great story right? 🤣🤣

You held his hand as he looked into your eyes, “Do you trust me?” His gaze fixated on you. “Not fully but I will, as long as you don’t hurt me in any way.” He pulled away and scoffed. “What Michael?”

“You do know that's inevitable, right.”

“I mean intentionally. I know that.” You sat back down on the couch, he watched your every move. Michael only watched you like hawk because his mind had convinced him you would flee, that you would soon leave him and never come back and it terrified him. He just wanted love and he knew you were the only one who could give it to him. He trusted you wholeheartedly, he loved you with every fibre of his being. That's why the war going on in his mind was draining him mentally. He thought about what you said to him earlier, about ditching his father’s plans and living a normal life with you. He wanted it so bad, to just focus on you, build a beautiful and strong relationship with you. But how is it possible to drop everything, he thought. “I’m in too deep.” He muttered out as he paced in front of you. He looked at you when you didn’t respond, he saw the confused expression drawn on your face. “My fathers plan, it’s too late to stop. I’ve already made plans with people. I’ve had meetings with the cooperative.”

“You can just say you need more time, to make sure everything is perfect. Or just kill them. Everyone who has power in this thing. Erase their minds or something. Anything, Michael.” Your mind couldn’t figure out a solution to his problem mostly because it could barely wrap around the idea of everything that Michael. “As dumb and idiotic as they are they would notice, they’d catch on.” He sat next to you and let out a loud sigh as he rubbed his face.

“What if you told them it wasn’t time yet? That your father told you to wait a little while longer.”

“I could do that...” His arms were crossed as she stared at the wall adjacent to him, deep in thought. You smiled as you grabbed his face to make him look at you, “You can do this, we both can. I’ll help you in any way I can.” you leaned in to kiss him. His arms snaked around your waist pulling you into him. You were mesmerized by his lips, how they fit so perfectly against yours. His touch felt like heaven even though they were designed in hell. You so desperately hoped you could pull this off, drop the devil completely and live out the rest of your life without the world ending. Now that you were aging again you had to make the most of your life, peacefully at least. You were over the mourning and being miserable, you realized you were focusing your time on something you couldn’t fix and deep down you knew you couldn’t ever see him again. So you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind because Michael was here and he loved you, you knew that of course but before you didn’t care. “I need you. I’ll always need you by my side. I can never let you go.” He pushed a strand out of your face, his touch tender and sweet. “I’ll never hurt you again, y/n. I promise to never let anyone else hurt you either. I’ll keep you safe. You’re my everything. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in life.” A tear rolls down his cheek as he confesses.

His one wish finally came true. He found that thing people rarely come across, the thing people hope and wish for and never receive. Something he will be forever grateful for. “Don’t cry.” You smile sweetly at him as you brush away the other tears that followed. “You have nothing to cry about, Michael.” You kissed his both cheeks. His eyes closed as he savored each kiss. Your lips against his cheek made his heart flutter. He was never showered in love or affection, which he so desperately craved. Every child needs love and attention and he never got any of it. “I um, when I was a kid, my grandmother never showed me any love. She never really cared for me. I’ve never felt love or adoration or even wanted.” His voice was low and soft as he told you, you could feel the hurt in his voice. “T-Thank you” his voice almost sounded relieved at the feeling of your touch

The look in his eyes broke your heart, he looked at you like a broken little boy. “You deserve it, you know?” You said. “You deserve love. You deserve everything. You don’t have to thank me for that. You know, it’s not like you chose the path you’re on. You were just thrown into it. You're not a bad person. I’ll never believe you are. You’re good, I see good in you. You helped me cope with my death when I was trapped in redwood. You listened to me when I needed to talk. You’ve done so much for me Michael. So much that I’ll never be able to repay you and a thank you would simply never be enough for that. You are such an amazing person and you don’t even know it and I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted so horrible towards you. It wasn’t right of me.” You kissed him slowly, your hands still cupping his face. “If you let your father go you could be so much happier. Without all of this stress. You can live such a simple life. We’d be together, we could live in Oregon, surrounded by trees. We can go to Colorado and live in the mountains. Or somewhere by the beach. I don’t care where we are as long as it’s just us. Just the two of us.”

“They’d come for me. They’d kill us both, there’s no way out.” Michael’s heart longed for the two of you to just be together. “If circumstances were different-.”

“If the circumstances were different I’d still be dead. I’d still be at redwood and you wouldn’t know I even existed.”

“Can we just try please?” Your voice cracked as you were losing hope as quick as you gained it. You were on the verge of crying as your mind swarmed with thoughts of having to witness the world burn to the ground. “Listen Michael, it’s gonna be hard but you can do it. If you can end the world, then you have the power to not let it happen. You have an opportunity to stop this, to not go through with it. Take it. Please, just take this chance, for us.”

He exhaled softly as he stared at you for a moment, scrambling his thoughts together. For a moment he thought about the future you could possibly have with him if he quit what he was doing with the cooperative. How beautiful life could be with you.

Within seconds he stood up and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” You got up as you watched him. He stopped and turned towards you, “I’ve got to start somewhere don’t I?” He gave you a smirk before leaving. He left you with your heart racing and your mind running a million miles.

Was he really gonna stop this whole production of ending the fucking world? Was it actually gonna happen?

[badassbeifong]

The Chief’s Lover (Pt. 4)

! Gif not mine !

Word Count: 1865

Warnings: Mild swearing

Author’s Note: I know! Not enough Lin in this one! Don’t worry! Next chapter will have more Lin!

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“Are you ready?”

You blinked and looked to your left. Tarrlok was sitting beside you in his car, ready to drive off but apparently waiting for your approval. You nodded, seeing as you had no other option.

“Good.”  He drove off and you held back your tears.

“Did I do something to upset you?”  Tarrlok asked suddenly and you stared at him in disbelief.

“Really? You have the audacity to ask me that?”  You crossed your arms.

“Personally, I think I’m doing you a favour.”  He smirked and you had the urge to hit him over the head.

“How so?”

“Huh?”

“How are you doing me a favour?”  You narrowed your eyes at him and he sighed.

“All in good time my dear.”

You frowned and looked out the window. You knew that you were doing the right thing but it just hurt so much. You really cared about Lin but you couldn’t keep putting her in compromising positions. It wasn’t fair to her.

“Doing some deep thinking over there?”  Tarrlok asked you and you lost it.

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“You heard me. First you threaten Lin and make her resign, then you practically kidnap me, what are you planning?”  You said and he pulled over to the side of the road.

“You intrigue me.”

“If it were coming from anyone else, I would take it as a compliment.”

“I was going to wait until we got back to my office but you’re really putting pressure on me so we’ll do this now.”  Tarrlok pulled out the papers that he was holding earlier and handed them to you.

“What do you want me to do with this?”  You asked him and when he didn’t reply, you decided to read it and figure it out yourself.

“I need you to sign at the bottom.”  He said casually which irritated you, considering what was on the paper.

“You want me to marry you? Have you lost your damn mind?!”  You shouted and he sighed deeply.

“If you’d let me explain-”

“Explain what? How insane you are so I can be prepared for the future? What the hell is wrong with you?”  You tried to open the door but he had locked it.

“You see, I’ve had my eye on you for a while now. For about...two years, I’ve been watching you. And about a year ago, I decided that I wanted to marry you.”  He said all of this as if it was normal.

“Great story. Really emphasizes how messed up you are. Listen carefully ok? I am not going to marry you.”  You handed the paper back to him but he didn’t seem phased.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“Of course I do. And I choose no. Now let me out.”  You tugged at the door again but he didn’t unlock it.

“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear me out.”  He smirked again and you had to hold yourself back from punching him in the face.

“What?”

“If you choose to leave now and not marry me, I will personally make sure that Lin is fired and I can’t guarantee whether she’ll be safe. If you marry me, I will never contact her again unless it’s permitted by the council.”  He smiled at you and you sighed as you realized what you had to do.

“Fine. I’ll...I’ll marry you.”  You whispered and he nodded.

“I knew you were smart.”  He said as he merged back onto the road and continued driving.

You signed the papers quietly, trying not to cry as you did so. You felt as though you were practically signing your whole life away.

“I think I’ll take you back to my house instead of my office. We should celebrate our marriage, don’t you think?”  He smiled and you could feel your anger rising.

“You’re sick.”

“Ah well, no one would believe that my own wife would say that.” 

You closed your eyes and tried to think of a way out of this. Maybe you could burn the papers and run away? No, Lin would be in danger. Maybe you could run away with her? Also no, she would want to stay and fight.

“We’re here. Oh, I hope you’re not thinking of running away. You’ll only be making the situation worse.”  Tarrlok said as he parked the car and unlocked the doors.

“I wasn’t.”  You mumbled back as you opened the car door and stepped outside.

You might hate the man but you couldn’t deny the fact that his house looked amazing. It was huge, way too much space for one person but then you considered that maybe he was holding other people hostage here too. But there was no way that he was that insane, right?

“Congratulations. You’re the first person, other than myself, to have entered my house.”  Tarrlok said to you as he opened the door and ushered you inside.

The inside of his house was just as magnificent as the outside. The decor was beautiful, the walls were painted so that they blended well with the flooring and the whole house smelled...pretty. If pretty could be a scent. You weren’t surprised about the scent though, seeing as Tarrlok himself smelled like a woman. Which did bother you.

“Lovely isn’t it?”  Tarrlok asked you as he noticed your look of awe.

“It’s alright.”  You shrugged and looked up at him.

“You’re probably wondering what to do now, aren’t you?”

“Um, no. I was thinking of ways to knock you out.”  You smiled innocently at him and he frowned.

“Now dear, you really shouldn’t try. It’ll-”

“Only make things worse, yes I know. You’ve only said it a billion times.”

“I do believe I said it once.”

“That’s already too many.”  You rolled your eyes.

Tarrlok turned to you and pinned you to the wall. It wasn’t as comfortable as you had imagined it, seeing as though he was doing this more out of anger than lust. Plus, you had never imagined it with him. 

“Do you think I’m joking?”  You could tell that he was angry but you didn’t care.

“No because kidnapping is not a joke.”  You replied and he tightened his grip causing you to wince slightly in pain.

“I didn’t kidnap you. You chose to come with me, remember?” 

“Yeah, only after you threatened the woman I care about!”  You kicked his knee and he let go of you.

“You’ve got one hell of a kick.”  He stated as he winced whilst trying to stand straight.

“The next one is coming for your face. Now here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to let me go, you’re going to leave Lin alone and you’re never going to mention any of this to anyone.”  You were trying to threaten him but Tarrlok saw right through you.

“You’re in pain, aren't you? The toxin is still in your body. Any minute now, you’ll pass out. That’s why you put so much power into that kick.”  He walked towards you and just as he said it, you passed out.

“I’ll take care of you my love. Don’t you worry.”  He carried you upstairs as you went in and out of consciousness. 

You had to admit, if Tarrlok wasn’t so insane, he could actually be a nice guy. He seemed nice enough...and he was actually kind of amusing. And he smelled nice?

“What did you do to me?”  You mumbled as you realized that your thoughts were now very different from before.

“I didn’t do anything. Why? Are you starting to fall in love with me?”  He smiled down at you and for the first time, you noticed how nice his eyes were.

You blinked and shook your head, trying to erase those thoughts but they wouldn’t leave. Tarrlok must have done something to you but when? When he pushed you against the wall maybe? Or when he caught you?

“It was when I caught you, if you were wondering.”  Tarrlok said as he gently placed you onto his bed.

“So you did do something to me!”  You shouted but he only laughed.

“I did. But that doesn’t matter to you, does it?”  He stroked your hair softly and you suddenly felt calm.

“No...I guess it doesn’t.”  You mumbled as you started to fall asleep.

“Good.”  He gently kissed your forehead and then left the room as you slept.

Tarrlok went downstairs and picked up the paper that you dropped on the floor when you passed out. He smiled when he saw your signature and the little frowning face drawn beside it. It was these little childish things that made him like you. You were a free spirit. And now, you were his. And there was no one who could get in the way of your love.

“Tarrlok, are you home? I need to talk to you.”  Tarrlok froze as he heard Tenzin’s voice come from outside of his door.

“Tenzin! What could be so important that you had to make a house call?”  Tarrlok smiled at Tenzin but he did not smile back.

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“No. Not since I went to introduce myself at the hospital. Why?”

“She passed out again at the police station so Lin took her back to her place but when I went there, Lin told me that she was gone. She didn’t say anything else though.”  Tenzin searched for any slip up in Tarrlok’s facial expressions but found nothing. He was too good at hiding his emotions.

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. I haven’t seen her. I’ll let you know if I do come across her.”  Tarrlok didn’t wait for the airbender’s response as he closed the door.

“God damnit Y/N, why do you have so many people who care about you?”  Tarrlok mumbled out of frustration as he went back upstairs to check on you.

Little did he know, Tenzin hadn’t left just yet and heard Tarrlok. He now knew that Tarrlok had you somewhere in his house. But without solid evidence, he couldn’t bring the police here. The only person who could help him was Lin.

Tenzin made his way back to Lin’s house as fast as could and knocked on her door. She opened the door but didn’t say anything.

“Lin, I need your help.”

“What do you want?”

“I think Tarrlok has Y/N-”

“I can’t help you Tenzin.”

“I- what? Why not?”  Tenzin frowned. 

“If it involves Tarrlok or Y/N...I can’t do anything.”  Lin closed the door.

“Lin! I don’t understand! Why can’t you help me?”  Tenzin shouted but got no response.

The only way he could save you was with Lin. Which meant that he had to figure out a way to get Lin to help him. But he couldn’t figure out why Lin was refusing to help, especially since she seemed to care so much about you. If Tenzin wanted her help, he was going to have to start from the beginning and figure out why Lin was so afraid of anything related to you and Tarrlok. Unbeknownst to him, Tarrlok had plans for you.

And if Tenzin didn’t hurry, it would be too late.

[johannas-motivational-insults]

I’ve seen a lot of people saying things along the lines of ”portal!Catra just wants to be with Adora and doesn’t resent her so obviously Catra is uwu soft baby who just wants to be loved and doesn’t actually want power” and implying that all Catra needs to find happiness and fulfillment is to give up the power-hungry charade and go be with her girlfriend. As an abuse survivor myself, I find this troubling on a number of levels, and I have a few things to say to this:

1) Portal!Catra is not real Catra.

Portal!Catra is something straight out of a really ooc high school au. She is very different from real Catra, and the contrast is meant to be shocking (much like the asshole au version of Buffy in BtVS 3x09 “The Wish”). It’s a reflection of how people are shaped by their circumstances, it’s not a character study of Catra’s actual wants and needs.

The Catra we saw in the portal, before she remembered her real history, was not dealing with the fallout of a lifetime of abuse. She did not know to be afraid of Shadow Weaver. In fact, she rolled her eyes and groaned when Shadow Weaver scolded her and Adora for goofing off and said she had high hopes for both of them. Real Catra would have killed to hear Shadow Weaver say she had high hopes for her, and here she was acting like it was an annoying lecture she heard all the time. The Catra of this “perfect world” has not spent her whole life being tortured and degraded and humiliated and told that she would never amount to anything.

So yeah, it makes sense that this version of Catra is happy for her friend who got promoted, in contrast to real Catra’s reaction. In this reality it’s good for the whole squad, and they all got the chance to prove themselves in Thaymor. In this reality it’s not a reminder that no matter what she does, she’ll never be as good as Adora, always be seen as useless and never get a chance to prove her worth. This Catra knows maybe she could become a Force Captain one day too. And if she didn’t, maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world; she hasn’t been told time and time again how incapable she is, so she doesn’t have her canon self’s all-encompassing urge to prove people wrong about her.

In the portal reality, Catra wasn’t blamed for Adora’s failings or treated like a nuisance - a sidekick at best, a liability at worst. She wasn’t pushed down so Adora could be lifted up, they were lifted up together. Of course this Catra doesn’t resent Adora the same way she does in canon or have the same obsession with proving herself.

2) “Just being with Adora” is what caused this problem in the first place.

Catra spent her childhood finding solace in Adora while battling a growing resentment towards her. We’ve all seen “Promise,” this fact is right there in canon. Just being with Adora was Catra’s strategy to try to stay happy throughout her childhood, but it wasn’t working.

Adora was the only good thing in Catra’s life, but this relationship brought her pain as well, and not just from Shadow Weaver. She felt like Adora didn’t respect her, didn’t believe in her. And it’s hard to blame her when you see some of Adora’s cocky posturing, like the “sure you did” and “riiiiight” comments. Adora’s just teasing and playfully asserting dominance (perhaps even trying to flirt a little), but to Catra it doesn’t feel playful, it feels malicious and disrespectful. The one person who makes her feel like she’s worth anything at all so casually dismissing her abilities is devastating.

Sacrificing her need for respect and validation to go be with Adora is not going to fix Catra’s problems. It is not progress, for Catra or Catradora. It’s regression into the unhealthy dynamic that caused much of the conflict between them in the first place.

3) There is no reclaiming this “ideal Catra.”

This may seem like a callous thing to say, but it doesn’t matter what Catra could have been under better circumstances. We are all shaped by our experiences, and no amount of love or therapy will undo what we have already gone through and how it shaped our psychology. All we can do is learn how best to live with who we are now. I’ve had to learn this the hard way, as someone with an acquired disability and a boatload of trauma. There is no ideal version of yourself to get back to, only future versions of yourself to work towards.

This is as true for Catra as it is for anyone irl. It’s not fair to say that Catra “at her core” just wants to be safe and loved and with Adora and therefore all her other needs borne of her abuse and neglect are meaningless. That’s extremely negligent, actually. That attitude minimizes Catra’s trauma, implies that she just needs to learn to get over it and then she won’t have these “impurities” in her personality anymore.

Catra has been abused, and she will always be hypersensitive to indicators of abuse. She’ll get triggered and riled up by seemingly innocuous things when it feels like someone is trying to dominate or subjugate her, take away her agency. She is always going to need to feel a certain sense of power and control just to feel safe and comfortable. In certain situations and around certain people she may feel safe enough to let that guard down and just relax and trust, but that’s a privilege, not a right. On that note...

4) Catra does not need to chase this ideal for anyone’s comfort.

Yes, Catra needs to change. She needs to stop pushing away everyone who loves her, she needs to curb her self-destructive impulses. She needs to take steps toward not just redemption, but healing. This will only be possible once people finally start to acknowledge her trauma, but that’s a whole other story.

However, Catra does not need to change the ways her abuse has shaped her. That’s impossible, and an unfair expectation. Healing from trauma is not the same as erasing it, and this is a very common misconception in the real world as well as in fandom. It’s also an extremely harmful misconception.

Now, this idea in particular is a popular theme in discussions of Catradora’s relationship dynamics, the implication being that Catra will only be happy/healed if she can get to the point where she not only can, but wants to yield control to Adora and that if she can’t/won’t then she doesn’t really trust her and their relationship is broken. The yikes level of this argument, especially in NSFW contexts (which is where you will often see it), is off the charts. It is not fair to expect an abuse survivor to put herself in uncomfortable and potentially triggering situations just to prove she trusts her partner or to demonstrate personal growth. Period.

Now, that’s not to say expressions of trust on Catra’s part wouldn’t be good for the relationship. Adora wants to take care of Catra as much as Catra wants to take care of her, and feeling like Catra trusts her (in those contexts or in others) would certainly stroke Adora’s ego. The problem lies in it being an expectation or us treating it like a milestone, something to celebrate. If Adora is a good partner she will work with Catra as she is and let her express trust in ways she feels comfortable with, rather than pressuring her to do things she’s not comfortable with to prove her feelings for Adora or illustrate her progress.

In short, erasing her history and ignoring her abuse is harmful.

Like I said, portal!Catra is not real Catra, and we can’t treat her like she is. It makes zero sense to ignore or villainize her perfectly legitimate need to feel powerful and in control over her own life just because someone who lived a totally different life didn’t have that same need to the same degree.

And I know I will get comments that canon Catra doesn’t really want power either, but I disagree. Catra doesn’t really want to rule the world, it’s true, but she wants to prove that she can. We’ve seen her enjoy being in a leadership position because she’s good at it and it reminds her of her own competence and worth. Just because she found no satisfaction in losing her soul to take over the world does not mean she finds no genuine fulfillment in being in a position of influence.

Even regardless of how much she enjoys it, Catra is still drawn to power because she has grown to associate it with positive outcomes like safety, agency, and self-actualization. Yes, power may not be Catra’s ultimate goal, but that doesn’t make it meaningless to her. And I really wish people would stop acting like a perfectly normal response to abuse is a character flaw that needs to be fixed.

It seems a lot of people are quick to forget Catradora’s real history as depicted in “Promise” because they like the “Remember” version of their relationship better. Because they like this version of Catra better. It’s understandable - who doesn’t want to see Catra happy, right? But like Adora so devastatingly told Catra (and all of us), it’s not real.

We need to stop pretending it’s real.

[hela-avenger]

poison & wine- part 16

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1591

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N:  If you’ll like to be tagged please reach out to me!  

poison & wine masterlist

Your eyes flutter open just to find the stars on the ceiling long gone. The light of the Asgardian sunrise had cast the darkness of the room away and you wonder how early you have to wake in order to witness it in person. You make a mental note to ask the girls but are disrupted by the sound of your stomach growling. 

Loki and you had unknowingly gone to bed early and had skipped dinner. It hadn’t been your intention but you were starving now and hoped the girls would be coming by soon with breakfast. 

Recalling Loki, you look over at his side of the bed to surprisingly find him still there. He seemed to still be asleep so you try to be as quiet as can be as you start to step out of the bed.

You manage to pull the bed cover away on your own making you suspicious of foul play the night prior. As you turn back to fix it, you find yourself staring at Loki’s bare back. You dropped the cover where it was and couldn’t help but stare. 

The entirety of his back was mangled with an array of scars. Some long and jagged, others short and straight. There was a variety and you wondered how he could have survived any of them. 

You had your history of scars. 

None on you but to the people around you. 

You recall your time as an army nurse. The mangled bodies you saw on a daily basis. New and old scars that scattered around the men fighting for their loved ones back at home. You knew what could cause them and how they could heal. You knew which ones would fade away with time and which ones would remain a reminder forever. 

Loki’s back was scattered with the worst ones you’ve ever seen. Especially as you recalled that his body was meant to be able to withstand much more than a mortal body ever could. Whoever did this to him must have been very strong and the pain… You can’t even imagine the level of pain he must have felt. 

None of the scars look like they healed with care. The way his skin was discolored beyond the wound made you aware that he must have been left to deal with them on his own. Wounded, tortured, perhaps left to die. 

Someone hurt him. Someone hurt him very badly. 

Your hand itches to run your hand across his back. An ill attempt to heal something just by the pure will of it. You know it’s impossible but you wish to at least try. 

So you do... or at least you try to before you’re interrupted by Loki’s groan. He hums as he turns onto his back to stretch, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

“What are you doing?” Loki asks. 

You pull your hand back and try to erase the last minute away from your mind. 

“Trying to see if you were alive,” you manage to lie. “You are awfully still when asleep. It looks like you’re dead.” 

Loki stares in response. His eyes narrow down at you trying to gauge if your words were true or not. Though in the end, it didn’t matter as he shook his head and sat up. His back faces you again but the scars you had seen had disappeared. His back was bare from any of it. 

You blink and then you blink again but Loki’s back remains scar-free.

Part of you wonders if it had all been a figment of your imagination, but like the bed cover and the stars glowing in the ceiling, you knew this cover up had something to do with the use of seidr. You just didn’t know why. 

A timid knock on the door disrupts your thoughts and you are quick to shift your attention elsewhere. You reach for your robe and tug it on just as Loki stands up from the bed and reaches your side. 

“Come in,” he bellows as he swings an arm around your waist and pulls you to him. You catch yourself on his chest and you have to refrain from following your instincts which were telling you to push him away. Instead, you let your hands remain where they are as the doors begin to open. “Good morning, girls.” 

“Good morning, your majesty.” 

“Start on breakfast without me,” Loki states as he pulls away from you. “I’ll be in the library doing some light reading.” 

He winks at you and turns to your handmaidens who are trying their hardest to stare at his face. Loki only grins and snaps his fingers to dress himself alleviating the tension in the room. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and eat?” you ask, capturing his attention once more. 

He turns to look at you in question and you don’t understand why you’re even offering to spend more time with him. The silence stretches out a second too long but Loki immediately fixes it by simply smiling down at you. 

“Missing me already, pet?” he asks. 

You couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at the question. 

“You know I always do,” you manage to respond sweetly. “It’s why I keep coming back to you.” 

Loki's smile manages to grow wider before he presses a kiss on your forehead. You let out your breath when the touch of his lips on your skin disappears. His hold on your face doesn’t leave as he tilts your head up so that you may look at him. 

His eyes flutter to your lips and a spike of anxiety runs through your spine at the thought of him kissing you again. 

He doesn’t. 

“I won’t be away for too long,” Loki states as he releases you. “I’ll be back to share lunch with you.”

Without another word, Loki makes his way out of your room leaving you at the care of your handmaidens.  

Loki flipped through the travel archives with exasperated boredom. He hadn’t realized how many outings were cataloged from the past century. He knew that Thor and he had taken advantage of traveling to other realms with any excuse at all. Loki was growing to regret it as each visit was written down. 

There were pages upon pages concerning Thor and his travels that Loki was having a hard time trying to narrow down other royal members who had left Asgard for whatever purpose necessary. It became more complicated as visits to Midgard were non-existent. 

It was like looking for a needle in a haystack except Loki didn’t know what the needle looked like. 

“Trouble?” 

Loki looks up from the catalog to find his mother staring down at him with an amused smile. He glances around momentarily to make sure they were alone and nods. 

“I can’t seem to find any trace of recent travel to Midgard,” Loki sighs out. “There’s too many transcriptions that it’s taking longer for me to get through them all.” 

“Hmm,” Frigga hums as she takes the book from Loki and looks through it. “Well, perhaps you should be looking through something more recent. The girl is a bit younger than this, isn’t she?” 

“I’ve started around the year of her birth but nothing appears,” Loki sighs out as he pulls the first book he started with from the stack. “So I assumed that perhaps her father arrived earlier.” 

“And you found nothing?” 

“Nothing,” Loki sighs out. “And I doubt anyone could have traveled down and stayed for longer than a century. Odin would never allow such a long visit.” 

Frigga scowls and sets the book down. 

“Well then that’s quite a problem, isn’t it?” 

Loki watches as her mother begins to pace.

“What’s wrong?” he asks her. 

“Either her father traveled through other means...” Frigga states.

“That’s impossible seeing as Midgard has travel records that indicate the Bifrost was used.”  

“Which then leaves us with another troublesome predicament,” Frigga sighs out unhappily. 

“Which is?” 

“That your father sent him down secretly.” 

“Why would Odin do such a thing?” Loki asks confused. 

“I don’t know,” Frigga shrugs. “It could have been a short banishment like your brother or perhaps another reason altogether. Either way, those records would be sealed with your father having sole access.” 

Loki lets out a heavy sigh unsure of what he was meant to do now. 

“This has become too complicated.” 

“It sure has,” Frigga agrees as she takes the seat next to him. “But for her sake, we must continue our search.” 

“How?” Loki asks. “By asking Odin?” 

“Yes, that’s…”

“No,” Loki interrupts her. “He’ll immediately want an explanation and what am I to tell him?”

“The truth, Loki.” 

“Absolutely not,” Loki exclaims. 

“Why not?” Frigga asks him. “For her safety? Or because you abhor the idea of telling the truth to your father?” 

“He’s not my father!” 

Frigga remains silent, her lips pressed together tightly. She waits for Loki to calm down watching his deep breaths return to a normal pace. He realizes his overreaction and turns to face her apologetically.

“I do not need to rely on that man more than I already have to,” Loki states. “I will find Y/N’s father and keep her safe on my own.” 

Frigga lets out a sigh knowing there was no way to convince him otherwise. 

“Then so be it,” Frigga resigns. “But whatever shall you do now?” 

Loki didn’t have an answer to her question. His only hope relied on you and so that was the only path he could take at the moment.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer​ @just-the-hiddles​ @jessiejunebug​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @smollest-soybean​ @assassinoftheworld​ @readerbandit​ @doyoufeelikeayounggod​ @strangemcuvlogs​ @ha-tep​ @i-dont-know-eiither​ @gene-king​ @day-dreaming-fox​ @bn-studies​ @is-it-madness​ @sigyn-njorddottir​ @devilbat​ @victor-criss-bish​ @skinny-macncheese​ @musicconversedance​ @baby-bunnyxn​ @fandoms-allovertheplace​ @marvelloonie​ @jinxjinxednova​ @queenmuahaha​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas​ @thesilentbluesparrow​ @oddly-drawn-muse​ @josiehosiedaninja​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @sadwaywardkid​ @wolf-lover74​

All Works Tag: @jmb959​ @astudyoftimeywimeystuff​ @hellocookiecutter​ @steve-rogers-personal-hell​ @buckybarnesyard​ @not-zari-tak

[pretend-writer]

Never Gonna Be Alone (Bellamy Blake x reader)

Requested

Summary: Being stuck in solitary before sent down from the Ark, Y/N finds a hard time fitting in with the other delinquents. 

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Title Reference: Never Gonna Be Alone x Nickelback

Word Count: 1636 words

Warning: fluff, angst, swearing, violence

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

I was a freak

They all looked at me the same way they looked at the people from the ground. Ever since we've landed on Earth, no one has said a word to me.

It's not their fault, if I saw someone from solitary too I'd judge them as well. Especially after what I've done, there was no excuse.

A guy with shoulder-length hair approached me, 'So you're Y/N? Was wondering what you look like.'

'I've heard about Y/N too. Holy shit, I got to see her in the flesh!' The goggle boy beamed.

'What are you talking about?' I crossed my arms, confused to why suddenly I was a celebrity to these people.

'Heard you did some crazy shit back up in the Ark but it's so scary, no one would even talk about it.'

The blonde girl walked in on the conversation. 'Jasper, cut it out. We don't know what she did up there and it doesn't matter anymore.'

'Well, Clarke if she did do scary shit I'd want to know!' Jasper looked next to him, 'Right Finn?'

'For all we know the Grounders might not be the only people we have to worry about.' Finn agreed with Jasper.

Their logic made sense; If I was stuck with some strange person from solitary that was stuck in there for a reason no one knew, I'd be fearful too. That didn't mean that I was going to blab around the truth to everyone.

How can I ever tell anyone? The guards, Kane, Jaha, no one believed me anyways.

'Okay, guys let's leave her alone.' Murphy came in with Atom, 'Don't you guys have chores to do?'

'You and Bellamy are not the boss of us.' Clarke huffed.

'Sure.' He then turned to me and smiled. 'Hey, come with us.'

It wasn't like I was dying to go with Murphy and Bellamy, they've basically tried to take over these people and I hated how they've been acting towards them.

For some reason, Murphy saved me from that awkward interrogation and I didn't really have a reason to say no to following him. Besides, I didn't want to be alone.

'Thank you, Murphy.' I looked over at him and Atom and gave a soft smile.

'You know my name?' He slightly smirked, 'Flattering.'

'Well, you and Bellamy are pretty known in camp considering you want to control everyone.'

Murphy curled his lips, 'Fair point but I don't see it as controlling. I'd like for you to see it more as managing.'

I shrugged, 'Whatever helps you sleep at night. I still thank you for helping me back there, doesn't change that.'

'Are you kidding me? Having you on our side would mean the others will definitely listen to us. You know people are so intimidated by you!? That's so dope.' Atom praised.

Of course, no one would let go of the fact that I was trapped in solitary for years. I thought that finally being free from the Ark would mean I can start over. I guess erasing the past was too good to be true.

A let out a fake smile, not saying another word as I walked into the dropship. All I've ever wanted was a normal life and no one allowed it. At first, all this attention made me upset but now I was more angry. Angry at myself for letting this happen.

Bellamy's head shot up as I walked up the ladder, 'You scared me. It'll be nice to not sneak up on people considering the fact that we have Grounders trying to kill us.'

'Uh, yeah. Sorry.'

'No worries, just messing with you.' Bellamy kept searching to see if he was able to find useful tools. 'What brings you up here?'

I sat down on the cold floor, watching Bellamy. 'Just wanted to be away from people.'

'Haven't you been away from people long enough up at the Ark?' He let out a light chuckle, perhaps trying to lighten my mood.

'Yeah, you make a good point there.' I laughed with him, it's been a while since I've genuinely smiled. 'It's just hard when people label you as some dangerous person.'

'Well, are you dangerous?'

Our eyes locked, he was serious yet curious about my answer. Even with all of the attitude he has been pulling since we landed on Earth, something about him made me comfortable and safe.

'I just had to do what I had to do.'

'Which was?'

'Killing my mother after she shot my father right in front of me.' I didn't know why I was confiding in Bellamy but somehow I felt like I could trust him.

He bit his lip, 'I'm sorry that happened. That sounds awful.'

'My dad and I were really close and my mom hated that. She was just ill, I know that but-' The flashbacks of those days haunted me everyday but I never knew the time that I talked about it would ever come. 'My mom tried to hurt me and I'm the reason my dad's dead.'

'No, it's not your fault. Don't blame yourself. Like you said Y/N, your mother was just ill and she needed help.'

'If my dad wouldn't have tried to rescue me, he wouldn't be dead. I wouldn't had to kill my mom for attacking the both of us.'

Bellamy scooted closer, holding onto my hand as he comforted me. 'Your mom wasn't in the right state of mind. Something bad whether if it was someone dying or getting hurt would've happened eventually down the line, it's not your fault.'

'Then why didn't Kane or Jaha believe me?' I started tearing up, thinking about the times where I felt alone in the world being trapped in those four walls that I thought I'd be in forever.

'I-I don't know. But it's done okay? Jaha and Kane, the whole thing doesn't matter anymore. You're down here and now I'm here with you.' Bellamy gripped my hand tighter as he smiled. 'Don't worry about a thing.'

Lightly nodding, I gave him a hug. 'Thank you.'

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

We all gathered around the fire as we ate the food that Clarke and her friends hunted for tonight. Of course, Murphy and Bellamy were the ones rationing them.

Everyone practically had their own group, they all separated themselves from each other and it felt like we were back at school again. Of course, I was alone in my own bubble.

Two of the delinquents that I've probably seen once or twice surrounded me as I tried to finish my last bite of dinner. Both crossing their arms, they glared at me as if I had taken something important from them.

'Uh, can I help you?' I said in a curious tone.

'You can do us all a favor and leave camp.' One of them shouted.

Standing up from my seat, I stood in front of them. 'You guys might want to quiet down a bit. Wouldn't want the Grounders to hunt you down, do you?'

The other dude rolled his eyes, 'Alright that's it.'

Both of them grabbed me at the same time, not giving me the chance to defend myself. I tried kicking but one of them gripped onto my ankles tightly before I can fight them off.

Next thing I knew, a whole bunch of other delinquents joined them, torturing me by throwing dirt and sticks at me. It was either them grabbing me hard everywhere around my body or hitting me with something. Either way, it was painful.

'Hey! What the fuck?!' Bellamy yelled as he squeezed through the crowd. I heard his voice but I didn't see him anywhere with all of these people around me. 'What's going on?'

'Y/N! Bellamy, don't you want her out of here too? We can feed her to the Grounders. Probably trade her for a deal to keep us safe.' Another delinquent shouted.

'Why in the hell would we do that? What are you doing to Y/N?' He eventually reached me, hovering over me as he screamed at everyone to back off.

Someone in the back snickered, 'You're defending this asshole?'

Bellamy picked me up, walking towards the dropship as he ignored everyone's murmuring and gossiping. 'Are you okay?'

'Yeah, yeah. I'm okay.' I tried giving him a smile to somehow make him feel less worried but with all the bruises forming on my face, it hurt too much.

Hearing me wince from pain, he nodded. 'Just a little bruise, I'm sorry they did that to you.'

'Why are you being so nice to me? Even yesterday at the dropship, you barely even knew me. Still really don't know me to be fair.'

'Y/N-' He paused as he put me down after making it into the dropship. 'I know how it's like to feel alone and I've always hated that feeling. After Kane and Jaha took Octavia away from me, I was a wreck. So, I just want you to know that you don't have to feel that pain with me.'

It was something about him that I was so drawn to. It was more than comfort and safety, I didn't quite know how to explain but it felt so right.

Bellamy gently rubbed the blood off my face as he looked into my eyes. I could see it in his face that he felt sorry for me. He tucked my hair behind my ears, trying to avoid them from sticking on my bruises. 'I'll get some first aid for you.'

'Thank you. Not for just fixing me up but for being here for me. I don't deserve any of this.'

'Yes, you do. It's about time someone stood by your side and I'll be that person.' Bellamy smiled, 'You won't ever have to be alone.'

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- NUMBER TWELVE, GRIMMAULD PLACE

"I'm sorry," Harry said at once, dying to know the name of this brother as he felt entirely sure he'd heard of for some strange reason. It was odd though, as he was confident he'd never even met another Black besides his godfather, but there was something he was missing in that connection-

This was clearly the wrong response though, as Sirius snorted softly and shook his head, waving the apology off and muttering, "nah, just surprised me a bit. We were only close before I started school, then I think we never had more than one proper conversation." His face twitched for a moment as 'conversation' was not the right word to describe his last real meeting with his brother.

Quickly forcing himself to stay on track he smirked, "Thinking about making a toast my deranged parents have finally gone beyond the veil though. Just, you know, thought my brother really was smarter than what I knew he was going to do." Really, the blow wasn't hitting anywhere close to him finding out he was going to lose James. It wasn't even that hard to imagine, as Sirius had told Regulus this was his fate when he went to join Voldemort's crew. Still, the thought wouldn't quite hit the smug feeling he thought he'd have at being right. He'd said a lot of harsh things to Regulus during their last meeting, and he had in return. Now there was a highly likely chance they'd never even make up for it.

What he was really left wondering was how soon until it happened? Had someone in the Order already done him in without even realizing it? They didn't always take off those Death Eater masks when they did a body count as more often than not they were in a hurry after those kinds of fights happened.

Remus wouldn't let him linger on the thought long though, an odd twisted smile in place as he said, "I'm trying to figure out how this even came about? The last place on earth you'd have a poke around after you got out was this place to even realize you were now the only heir.”

  Sirius could only shrug for that, almost wishing Remus was joking, but even now he couldn't imagine the point in looking up where his Death Eater of a brother was staying, Sirius couldn't imagine he'd have bothered looking him up after twelve years in Azkaban.

James was watching Sirius' face become steadily more drawn with confusion as he kept thinking about this, so he butted in saying, "no offense Sirius, but I still can't imagine why the Order wound up there. Last I heard, you weren't even in line to posses such a treasured object as the Black house." The way he said treasured object made it sound like a bomb about to go off.

"I've no clue," Sirius shrugged. "She may have disowned me and blasted me from that stupid wall, but maybe the blood magic binding that house never left, or she couldn't figure out how to erase me from it." Then his eyes brightened as he truly grasped what he was saying, and he full out laughed. "Merlin's Holy Socks, that place is the Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters! Oh this is brilliant! That woman's surely having fits in her grave!" He dissolved into insane giggling that James quickly joined in on.

Remus passed Lily the book and Lily quickly gave her child to James as she went to start, trying to ignore the boys while Remus still had an unfocused gaze. Sirius may enjoy the irony for now, but he'd seen his friend the last time he'd been at that place, and he wasn't looking forward to hearing how Sirius was going to be acting inside that house. He found it funny from the outside, where the description had fallen so far none of them would have even guessed it as the same grandeur place of Sirius' childhood home, but even knowing what it's usages were, he was sure old Padfoot was trying to spend more time out of that place than in it. He probably wasn't even there now when Harry arrived, or maybe he would brave those dank walls again to see his Godson. It was an honest coin toss.

Harry began to ask what the Order was, but Moody cut him off to wait till he was inside.

"Which reminds me," Lily butted in before they could go too far into the story and she could question this now after Sirius had gotten over his shock. "What even was the point of Dumbledore writing you that note just as you were outside the house? Surely if he wanted you to know the address they'd have just given it to you at the Dursleys. What's the point of the note at all?"

"Hope I ask Dumbledore," was all Harry could say.

Moody took the parchment back and set it on fire while Harry reexamined the houses. There was an eleven to his left, and a thirteen on his right, but no twelve in sight.

Sirius blinked in confusion as he again recalled such a disgusting neighborhood that seemed to have fallen well out of shape from his time there. Surely that had all happened after everyone was dead, but what on earth was happening to make the house completely not there? There was already a ton of enchantments set in place so that no one could enter unless they were invited in, how much more had Dumbledore done to the place to make it safe?

Harry again began to ask where this place was, but Lupin whispered for Harry to think of the note he'd just read.

Just as he finished, a battered door appeared from nowhere right in between the two existing places.

"What in the world?" Remus demanded as he studied the book like it too would suddenly grow its own house.

"That sounds like the Fidelius Charm,"* Lily wrinkled up her own brow as she tried to understand this magic she'd never seen used. Her hand automatically sought out her husbands and they held tight to each other for a moment as they remembered all that spell would lead to for them.

Sirius' face had screwed up with the force of his trying not to automatically start screaming and shouting at the mention of that Charm again, what he'd lead his best friend into all because of his mistake. He couldn't fathom a second how he'd ever worked out that rat was in any way a better option than Remus or even himself, this is what he got for trying to be clever with some decoy, his friends death. Merlin they should have just used Harry since he couldn't have given the location to anyone!

Remus gave Sirius' shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, whispering some words of comfort, but still waiting for Sirius' terse nod before waving Lily to continue.

Like someone was inflating a house, walls and struts began spanning into sight, pushing the other two houses away to make room, but the stereo in elven kept thumping on, not a light flickered anywhere, no one seemed to notice such a thing but him.

Then Moody was prodding Harry in the back to get him moving again.

Sirius was now in far less of a good mood as he imagined going back into that house for even a second, not even the thought of his old hag of a mother's angry face could make this amusing anymore and now he hoped he'd just spot Harry coming in and drag him right back out for some quality time.

Harry uneasily followed up the crumbling steps to the shabby black door that only had a serpent doorknocker with no other decoration.

Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped it to enter, and then Harry was pushed inside while being whispered at not to touch anything.

"You guys were starting to freak me out." Harry hadn't meant that to come out as a whisper, but the mention of that charm had seemed to sap all life from the room and he couldn't think of anything better to say.

"That's sound advice though," Sirius ground out for Remus. "That place is a walking death trap if you don't know what you're doing." It wasn't even entirely the house's previous occupants, there were a lot of objects in that place even Sirius had never fiddled with too much after he'd once seen Regulus stick his nose into a box and come back out with it almost scale covered. His mother had fixed him right and then scolded Sirius for letting his brother play in that room.

Sirius couldn't help it, his original good mood on the subject had vanished, and the more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't care of how much good use it was being used for, he really didn't think it was worth it just for all the memories that were sweeping him he'd thought he'd repressed because of this place.

Harry stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hall. He could smell damp, dust and a sweetish, rotting smell; the place had the feeling of a derelict building.

Harry was watching Sirius growing more and more agitated as this carried on, and Harry was starting to feel the same way. Harry could just feel the emptiness and hatred pouring out of the walls of that house and something of thinking about Sirius in there cut him deep, which was odd when he blinked again and felt like he'd grown used to the old building...

The rest of his guard piled in behind him, though none moved past towards the stairs or the entrance to a lower set of stairs. Instead they waited for Moody to release all of the lights back to the street, and come back inside to break his Disillusionment charm. Then they all still remained quiet and still while Moody got some light going.

"Why are they still whispering when they're inside?" Lily asked in confusion, her own voice sounding a little loud in the suddenly eerie quiet of this room, but she wanted to at least try and keep some level of normal about them.

Sirius wasn't helping, for once he seemed to have no need to voice his opinion about anything as he just shrugged and kept his eyes on the fireplace instead of that book.

The others hushed voices were giving Harry a feeling of foreboding as he kept trying to pick out details in the gloom, from the dusty creaking floorboards do the dust covered chandelier above and the multiple picture frames that hung crooked on the wall.

James watched a smile creep back across Padfoot's face, but it was a twisted looking thing full of mocking hatred that his mother's precious house had clearly fallen into such disrepair.

He could also detect soft scuttling of little feet just out of sight and more serpents shaped into legs of tables.

Then he heard distinct footsteps, and Molly Weasley arrived from the bottom hallway.

Harry at first felt a smile flash across him at her reappearance again, then he blinked and all of those feelings he'd felt over that summer began simmering just under the surface as he muttered, "so Ron's really there, right at Headquarters."

Remus gave Harry an uneasy look for that tone, but had no real response for him. He wanted to say more than likely that their kids were all old enough to be home alone at the Burrow, but even that wouldn't have felt like much comfort to Harry as he could have just as easily been there with them as well.

She beamed at the sight of him, though Harry noticed she looked much more pale than the last time he'd seen her.

Lily sighed in sympathy, she knew she often looked just as strained after Order meetings.

She greeted him at once with familiar kindness, already saying he looked too peaky,

"He always looks peaky after he leaves that place," James grumbled.

after releasing him from a forceful hug, but he'd have to wait for dinner. Then she turned to the others and said that he'd arrived, the meeting had started.

"Finally," Sirius muttered, "I'll consider this whole place worth a visit if you go give Dumbledore a good telling off for your summer."

Harry made some frustrated little noise both in agreement, and depressed that he wasn't even a little convinced this happened.

The trope began heading down the hallway, but when Harry tried to follow Lupin Mrs. Weasley caught him.

"Hey," they all suddenly pouted. Harry'd been left with nothing for a month, how long was he going to keep being held back?

She told this was for Order members only.

"You mean Harry isn't automatically one?" Sirius began glaring at once. "I mean, he's kind of the whole reason the Order exists again, I think that automatically qualifies you."

Lily watched the boys around her automatically agree, but suddenly some of her protesting dimmed as she glanced down at her infant. She of course would be going crazy not knowing what was going on, she certainly was during school with no way to help. That didn't mean she wanted to toss her son into this though, she was fighting now so her little infant never would have to. She couldn't claim she was really against him sitting in on this either, but she just wished he didn't have to.

Ron and Hermione were upstairs and he would wait with them. She'd show him the way, and insisted he keep his voice down.

Harry asked why, and she said she didn't want to wake anything up.

"I meant why can't I come, but that's odd too," Harry rolled his eyes.

He tried to ask what, but Mrs. Weasley said she'd explain later, she was in a hurry, she'd just show him to the rooms.

"So he's going to stay there the rest of the summer?" Lily blinked in confusion, not really wanting to imagine her son sleeping in that place, couldn't he just Floo to the Burrow from there?

Her question was drowned out by Sirius' louder one though.

"Why is Molly even the one doing this at all?" If Sirius' face got out any more sour, he'd have that puckered expression made permanent. "I should be the one up there greeting my godson, and I'd let him down there. What's she think she's doing?" No meeting should be important enough it would stop him seeing Harry again.

Remus could only offer his original idea, "Maybe you're not even there, even now imagining trying to get you inside there would be a living nightmare. It would be easier to train a niffler."

Sirius just huffed and grumbled something as he didn't find this a better answer.

Pressing her finger to her lips, she led him on tiptoe past a pair of long, moth-eaten curtains, behind which Harry supposed there must be another door,

James blinked in confusion at that as he told, "I don't remember that." True he'd only been over once, but it had been vivid enough the place had lingered and that object hadn't.

Again, Sirius only shrugged without a trace of care.

and after skirting a large umbrella stand that looked as though it had been made from a severed troll's leg they started up the dark staircase, passing a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. A closer look showed Harry that the heads belonged to house-elves.

Lily's face squished up in disgust as she glared at the book, trying to resist the impulse to turn the same look on Sirius as it's not like he'd been the one to do this, but suddenly she realized that Sirius may have taken something from his parents though he'd never claim to. If this was how they treated their old servants, than she suddenly wasn't as surprised if Sirius learned to treat them that same way.

All resembled each other through the same nose.

Harry's confusion for the place grew, what were they doing in a place that look as if it belonged to the darkest of wizard dwellings?

"Well you've got that one right Harry," Sirius huffed.

Harry tried to ask another question, but again Mrs. Weasley cut him off saying Ron and Hermione would explain. She left him at a door on the second landing, and he'd only just turned the doorknob, again a snake heads, and got a glance and more dim walls two twin beds and two owls fluttering overhead before a mound of bushy brown hair tackled him.

"I missed hearing about this," Remus managed to find a smile again at the mention of Harry's friends.

"About time," Sirius seemed to be refusing any good mood right now.

Hermione was squealing in delight, shouting at Ron that Harry was here! Already babbling on about how furious he was with them? She knew he would be, there letters had been useless,

"Well at least she admits it," James actually did get in a grin for this.

but they'd sworn they wouldn't tell him anything because of Dumbledore, and oh those dementor attacks and the Ministry hearing! She'd done her reading on it, and they just couldn't expel him, he was allowed to use magic under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction-

"I've missed hearing about Hermione like this," Lily grinned again for that little first year who'd babbled herself silly about books on their first train ride.

Ron cut in to let him breath. Harry at once noticed he'd gained a few more inches in their month apart.

Hedwig landed softly on his shoulders from the wardrobe above.

"And just where has she been?" James demanded with an eyeroll.

Sirius though narrowed his eyes as he insisted, "no, that's a good question, did someone there really lock up your owl and not let her back? Why! It wouldn't be that big of a difference just to allow Hedwig to come back so at least Harry-"

"Sirius," Lily cut in.

"What?" He barked back.

She met his scowl with a sad little frown before telling him, "it was wrong of them to keep Hedwig away, but I don't know what you're yelling at us for." She thought she did though, when she noticed his eyes tighten at the 'them.' He was clearly wanting to strangle someone for whoever kept messing with his godson, even himself as he clearly wasn't doing any good.

Ron watched the snowy owl with unease as he told his best friend she'd been in a state since she'd been here, pecking their fingers off.

Harry was ashamed to see a deep cut on his index finger.

"Ouch," Lily winced in sympathy. She hadn't actually expected Hedwig to follow through on Harry's threat, but at least was relieved to see Harry looking just as repentant.

Harry began to apologize for that, explaining he just wanted some answers.

Ron agreed at once they wanted to give them, Hermione had been going spare saying Harry would do something drastic if they held back news,

"She was almost right," Harry sighed, knowing if those dementors hadn't attacked he still wouldn't have lasted there much longer.

but Dumbledore had-

made them swear not to say, Harry finished coldly. Suddenly the happy warmth at seeing his friends again had been dumped right out again.

"So I'm guessing this won't be your next Patronus memory about them," Remus muttered uneasily as Lily flipped the page.

All of a sudden - after yearning to see them for a solid month - he felt he would rather Ron and Hermione left him alone.

"Well I get that you're pissed at them," James cocked his head to the side, "but that was just a little cold. They explained themselves in the only way they could."

"Yeah," Harry grumbled, "that didn't make me feel better."

There were all starting to watch him in a way they hadn't before, but they'd never seen this bubbling anger before either. They'd only gotten a hint of it when he was arguing with Dudley, now they were all getting a bad feeling it might make a reappearance, maybe worse if that look on Harry's face was any indication...

There was a heavy silence before Hermione kept trying to say Dumbledore was doing what he thought best.

"And everyone always does what Dumbledore thinks is best," Remus murmured as he watched Sirius already growing as angry as Harry, though still at himself for not having disobeyed Dumbledore already and thinking his pup deserved far more than the Headmaster seemed to think.

Harry gave a snappy agreement as he kept petting his owl and now looking anywhere but at them. Suddenly he looked at the marks on both their fingers again and didn't feel as sorry.

"Harry!" Lily snapped at once.

Harry felt like he'd just been snapped between two worlds, the anger he remembered feeling so vividly at his friends suddenly drowned out by the sound of Lily's voice and now replaced with plenty of real shame for that nasty little comment.

"I really am sorry," he whispered, but it seemed more to himself than her as an aching stronger than ever reared up in him and he wished he had his friends here with him now instead of having no clue where, or even when, they were.

Ron began to say Dumbledore had told them he was safer with the Muggles, but Harry snapped back didn't do him much good when the dementors had showed up.

Ron agreed that's what the Order following you had been trying to stop,

"They knew I was being followed!" Harry suddenly barked, then he groaned in misery as his emotions were leaving him feeling torn in half. At fifteen and angrier than he ever had been in his life at them, and now with a longing so deep it hurt more than he ever would have believed.

"Harry," Sirius sighed at his side. He forced himself to concentrate on his godson rather than his own equally foul mood and instructed, "take a deep breath pup, and just remember it all does work out for you. You'll get your grievances with Ron and Hermione out and then everything will be fine."

Harry struggled for a moment to get his lungs working normally again, but the confident tone to Sirius' voice truly did ease him back and he forced himself to concentrate on one mindset only, this time here and now, and push down the anger for his now absent friends. Then he gave Sirius a winning smile for the reminder.

Sirius returned the grin at once and waited until Harry looked away to throw a guilty look at James, knowing the father would have much preferred to have been able to do this, but then James surprised him by smiling right back with only the smallest bit of tightening around his eyes for having to watch. James had forced himself to come to terms at watching this for some time, and it honestly warmed him seeing Sirius was good at it.

Harry felt a jolt shock him as he realized everyone knew he'd been followed! He had to fight every bit of him to stop from yelling the words that it hadn't done any good, he'd still had to look after himself.

Hermione whispered how angry she'd seen Dumbledore when he heard, it was scary.

Harry blinked in confusion as he remembered back to how Dumbledore had looked at the end of last year, both at the realization of what had been done to his friend and when he'd defended Harry from Fudge. At the time he'd been warmed beyond belief to see his headmaster come to his defense, now it wasn't computing with the same cold man who'd abandoned Harry all summer. What had he done so wrong to change his headmaster's opinion of him?

The others didn't notice Harry's burning silent questions, they were too busy shivering as they easily pictured their anger quantified to Dumbledore's levels over that instance.

Harry snapped back he was happy Mundungus had left, otherwise he'd have probably been left there all summer!

"He, he wouldn't really," Remus tried to protest, as Dumbledore must know how miserable Harry was at that place, surely Sirius would have been vocally against that enough...but there just wasn't anything in him to say any of that was true. He could easily picture Dumbledore doing this if he thought that was what was safest, and if he was using that argument to keep Sirius quiet, well that could actually have worked.

"That's not what happened though," Lily tried to pacify for everyone around her, even herself all going grim at the statement.

"Only because I did what I wasn't supposed to," Harry raised a brow at her, "that hardly makes it any better."

Lily made a disgruntled face at him for the tone but couldn't argue that point.

Hermione's voice lowered significantly as she asked if he was worried about that Ministry hearing?

"Was that an attempt to change the subject?" James cocked his head to the side as he gazed at the book. "Hermione truly needs to read a book on how to do that."

Harry instantly lied no, as talk of that would not put him in a better mood.

He began examining the rest of the room, but the only stand out was an apparently empty painting that Harry swore he heard snickering as he walked past.

Sirius made a noise of disgust, so quickly trying to find any excuse to put off what Harry could just feel pounding through him Harry asked, "what's that?"

"His name's Phineas Nigellus," Sirius rolled his eyes, "you might have spotted him in Dumbledore's office at some point, cause he was once a Headmaster of Hogwarts. There's also a portrait up of him in that house in one of the guest rooms."

Topic of the inside of that house hadn't seemed to make Sirius feel a lick better so Harry let it go, but he still wondered why he felt something significant about a painting of all things.

Harry demanded why Dumbledore had thought he should be kept in the dark? Did they bother to ask?

He glanced over at them just in time to see them exchange a look.

"Wouldn't make anyone feel better to feel looks behind your back," Lily sighed even as she was gazing wearily at the next page where she saw a lot of capitalized letters. She forced her eyes not to skip ahead and tried to pretend like she didn't know where this was going.

Ron insisted they'd told Dumbledore they wanted to tell him, but he's been busy and made them swear not to write anything important in letters because the owls could be intercepted.

"A very real threat," Remus tried to say in hopes to keep the logic up front for them all, but clearly no one agreed as it shouldn't have even been needed.

Harry snapped back owls were the only way to talk to people now?

Sirius wanted to snark that had been his point all along, or even messages shouldn't have been needed and Harry should have properly been with him, but further grumbling of that just wasn't going to do anyone any good.

Then Harry decided no one had trusted him,

"Now you know that's not it," Lily said at once.

"Sure felt like it," he grumbled back.

or that he couldn't take care of himself.

"I still don't see what that has to do with anything," James sighed. "He won't be sending you out on any missions that you're thinking of while you're still in school."

Harry sighed with frustration as his school was mentioned again, so many feelings for that place all jumbled into one a migraine was already threatening to break again.

Hermione tried to interrupt no one thought that, but then Harry blasted then how come he'd been left at the Dursleys while they'd been here all along?

Ron insisted they didn't know much of anything, his mum kept them out because they were too young.

Ironically they might have agreed, fifteen was too young to be dealing with anything involving Voldemort. They hadn't really even known there was anything to do against him until they'd left school, and hadn't started questioning it until their sixth year. Problem was, Harry would be involved, and so would his friends by default. It was just sad all around to realize both how young they were, and how it couldn't be avoided.

But before he knew it, Harry was shouting.

Lily sighed as she looked at what Harry was fixing to belt out, but she just couldn't bring herself to shout that all out. She couldn't even bring herself to raise her voice that much, she knew the others already grasped what level Harry was at by the boys sheepish look at all the feelings pouring out of him at once on his friends.

Every last thing he'd ever been thinking over the past month about how much he'd handled, like the Philosopher's stone, and the basilisk, and the dementors!

"Harry," Lily groaned as she rubbed at her temple, letting the book dip slightly so she could eye him better.

"I know," Harry mumbled without being able to meet her eyes. First his dad, now his mum, he just kept disappointing everyone lately.

She kept staring at him though until he looked up and met her eyes while she told, "it's not as if I can blame you for your temper snapping, no one can control that, I just wish you weren't taking it out on the ones who don't deserve it."

Harry gave her a bleak smile as he still forced himself to concentrate on his every breath, on Sirius at his side shaking his head at Harry's display even while he wanted to do a bit of shouting of his own, to absolutely not think about how angry he'd been at the time so he wouldn't get lost in his mind again.

Every bitter thought that had lingered in him came pouring out now at his loudest volume, causing Hedwig to take flight in shock and Pig to begin zooming around the room even faster.

"You have a knack for scaring your owl away, don't you?" James muttered like he hoped that would stop Lily from continuing for a moment, but it didn't.

He'd been the one to get past every foul thing in that tournament last year, he'd escaped from Voldemort with his life!

Lily's voice hitched as she once again was forced to remember all that Harry had been through, all on his own, always with no one there to help him. It really was no wonder he lashed out because of the summer he'd had to suffer after all that.

Ron was standing there with his mouth half-open, clearly stunned and at a loss for anything to say, whilst Hermione looked on the verge of tears.

Harry kept sinking farther and farther into his cushion as shame managed to burn out any ill will he'd once held towards his friends, for now at least keeping his mind level in the here and now. His mum was right, this really had come out on the wrong people, he couldn't believe he'd done this to his friends.

But why should he be told what was happening!?

Hermione tried to cut in she'd wanted to tell him,

"Brave little one," Lily murmured, it took a lot for someone to interrupt someone else's shouting.

but Harry wasn't done as she howled back that Dumbledore had made them swear! Four weeks he'd been on his own trying to find out anything, and they'd been having a laugh without him!

Hermione tried one last time to cut in how sorry they were, she understood he was furious and she'd be as well if it were her.

"I think I'd fear for my life to hear of her in a furious state," Lily sighed in relief before telling them, "least you seem to be done shouting for now."

Harry hardly looked over at her as he kept flattening his hair and trying to vanish from sight, or more preferably go hunt down his friends and properly apologize to them.

Harry continued glaring furiously, his chest heaving while Hedwig hooted glumly down at him.

When the silence rung though, he demanded what this place was?

"A torture chamber," Sirius grumbled, which seemed to be true even for Harry. He hadn't been inside there five minutes when he was already showing his worst. Sirius had often wondered if that place was enchanted to bring out the worst of people, and this wasn't disproving his theory.

Ron instantly answered Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry began tartly that no one was going to bother explaining to him what the Order of the Phoenix was.

"Well you've hardly given them the chance to do that," Lily couldn't completely stop her rebuke. "You did just walk in there and start this up."

Hermione cut off his sarcasm by explaining it was a group founded by Dumbledore to fight back against You-Know-Who.

Harry demanded who was in it, and she returned a lot of people, probably even more than they'd seen around here.

Then Harry just stood there glaring at them, demanding 'well?'

Ron hesitated before asking hesitantly, well what?

"You really can't start so open ended Harry," James at least tried for a smile while he corrected Harry in a less harsh tone than Lily had managed. "Even I'm not sure what you're asking for and I'm following your head."

"Thought it was obvious," he rolled his eyes at James, honestly wanting to make the father laugh for a moment as just days ago Harry had seemed too afraid to speak to him, now he was literally mouthing off. It was quite a turn to see such a change coming through him so quickly, though it just made him all the more sad this was the closest he'd ever seem to get to watching his son grow up, years taking place over days.

Harry shouted Voldemort at once! What was he doing, what had he been up to?

Hermione reminded they didn't know, the Order was keeping them out, but she had some ideas she finished quickly at the look on Harry's face.

"You weren't really going to start shouting at them for that?" Lily couldn't stop a frown at him now. "It's not their fault they aren't allowed in."

"They certainly made their letters feel a lot more obnoxious than for 'we don't know.'" Harry grumbled back, still not entirely able to replace the bad mood this book was reminding him of it seemed.

Fred and George had invented some Extendable Ears,

At the word invented, everyone finally felt their spirits lifting again. The twins had always been a foolproof way to make them feel better, and their adventures in inventing was the most entertaining thing going on in the background of Harry's life.

and they could be used to eavesdrop on conversations. Only problem was their mum had found out about them and went berserk on her twins, tried to bin the lot of them.

"Really?" Lily demanded, finally turning her sharp eyes off of Harry and onto the book in disapproval. "She's still doing that to them? Mother yes, but I can't really say she has a right to be trashing their things like that."

"I can't believe she's still trying to," James sighed. "At some point it really does boggle the mind how she's still fighting them on something they so clearly want to do, I'd like to think she'd start encouraging them when she realized how badly they want this."

Harry had to resist the temptation to tell them both to knock off Mrs. Weasley, instead he put as much conviction into his voice as he could, "I'm convinced she'll ease up on them in no time." He truly felt it in him the mother would be proud of her boys, but he was weary of saying that in case it caused another spur of pain. He'd managed to keep anyone else from continuing on this for now though.

But they'd gotten some usefulness out of them before they'd been found out, like how the Order was following some known Death Eaters keeping tabs on them, some were trying to recruit more members to the Order, and they talked a lot about guard duty, though they weren't sure what exactly.

"I guess I should be flattered I get discussed at these meetings," Harry scowled, even as deep down he could feel something about that was off...

Harry snidely said that last one couldn't be about him?

Ron agreed that made sense with a look of dawning comprehension.

Sirius couldn't help a mean little laugh Ron really hadn't put that together? What exactly had he really been thinking about all summer for not having realized that? Had he and Hermione been that cozy?

Harry gave him a hard nudge to get him to stop, he already felt bad enough for how he'd reacted to seeing his friends, he didn't want to hear the others picking on them now.

Harry just snorted at him as he resumed his pace, still demanding answers that if that's all they knew, what had those letters been about with them being so busy?

Lily was still frowning at him, wishing he'd drop the tone already.

Hermione insisted they had, they were trying to make this place livable again. It had been empty for ages and now they were trying to decontaminate all the things that had been breeding in here.

Sirius snorted in surprise before starting to giggle like a maniac as he imagined the look on his mother's face if she heard that. It seemed Kreacher had passed away, a blessing he was more than happy to hear as well.

They should be starting on the drawing room tomo- she cut off with a squeal of surprise.

Lily hadn't meant to shout that so loud, but she'd yelped it more in surprise than anything causing the others to jump as well.

With two loud cracks, Fred and George materialized out of thin air in the middle of the room.

Harry just couldn't shut off his spikes of annoyance lately as he grumbled, "is it just me, or is the system really unfair towards Muggleborns? Just because you've got magical parents they can't tell you're doing magic during your summer holidays, but when I do it," he finished with an obvious enough look.

"To be fair," Lily tried, "it is intentionally biased. There's just no way possible to detect a single person's magical energy, though studies have tried. The trace is only set to detect that of magic for underage people, not even individuals. So instead they have to do it by location, and just trust that parents aren't allowing their kids to do so during holidays."

Something of what his mother said tickled in Harry's mind, and suddenly he snapped his fingers and said, "that's it, that's why Tonks and Moody could use magic at my place. Lupin was talking about that to Kingsley when I was coming back into the kitchen, but it didn't make any sense at the time. He said something about how because Mr. Weasley had been using magic before at my place it was going to be overlooked. I didn't know what he meant because Mr. Weasley wasn't even there."

Remus blanched and avoided all eyes for a moment to pretend he hadn't just heard Harry automatically slip back into calling him by his last name again, now right in this room.

"That, kind of makes sense," James frowned in thought, "he was there to pick you up last time, and so long as he forewarned the Ministry again he was going to pick you up, they'd just ignore magical energy at your house for that time period because they'd just assume it was Arthur doing it."

"I wonder why Arthur wasn't there?" Sirius frowned, "he couldn't have been at work, otherwise that wouldn't have worked."

Harry just shrugged for answer, though something of what Ron said tried to bubble to the surface. Guard duty? Had Harry been watched even more closely after the dementor attack? No, that didn't make sense, there wouldn't be a guard on the house while he was being picked up, so what-

"Well I'm just happy you won't be in even more trouble for that," Lily sighed in relief as she went back to the book.

Hermione clutched at her chest in surprise as she snapped at them to stop doing that!

She was ignored as George grinned at Harry, saying he'd thought he'd heard familiar dulcet tones.

"I'm sure it was hard to miss," Sirius grinned.

Fred agreed it wasn't good to have all that bottled up, and be sure to let the rest out. There might be people fifty miles away who hadn't heard him.

Harry gave a sheepish smile while everyone around him laughed, though it did make Sirius wonder if the Order had heard this and no one had come up to check? They might have blocked out the noise outside of the room though in an effort to keep the kids out.

Harry just grumpily surmised they'd passed their Apparition tests then.

"You've been saying everything grumpily lately," James told him pleasantly.

"Can't seem to shake it off when I keep getting annoyed," he snipped.

Fred agreed with chipper, while Ron grumbled at them it only would have taken them thirty extra seconds to walk down the stairs.

"I would just like to take this moment to remind that they were complaining of Percy doing this last summer," Sirius grinned.

"I'm positive the twins have flamboyant answers for that," Remus snorted.

James suddenly blinked as he eyed his two friends, before cracking up laughing.

"You going to share the joke?" Sirius demanded when he'd subsided enough but the baby was still giggling in his arms.

"I'm honestly just picturing their reactions when they realize who they're in the same house with," James stated with a stupid smirk in place.

It only took them a minute before they exchanged impish grins with each other, but Harry shot down the idea at once as he said, "well I never told them that I knew who the Marauders were, so unless Ron did, I don't think they even know."

Sirius was suddenly pouting at him as he demanded to know why.

Harry answered simply, "when would it have come up?" The only scenario he could see was if Sirius or Remus had referred to the other as their nicknames, and while they swapped between the two often enough in here, Harry hadn't once heard Sirius or Professor Lupin do the same in his time.

Sirius and Remus were starting to look disappointed now, after the twins had gone on about them when the Map had first been introduced they'd love to think they got a chance with a real chat to their follow up pranksters.

Harry grimaced as he realized he was just killing everyone's mood of late, and insisted to his brain to cut it out already at least in here. What was it about this year that was putting him in such a foul mood no matter what?

Fred waved that off as he turned to Harry and scolded he was interfering with their reception.

"Harry, how dare you!" James mock outraged as he wagged his finger at him.

Harry forced a smile he didn't really feel at the picking, now struggling with himself to understand why he couldn't just laugh along like he had in the past. This couldn't all be because of his rotten summer and lingering shame for what he'd done to his friends. What on earth was happening to him this year to cause such a resurgence of these bad feelings he was having so many problems shaking?

He showed Harry a long, flesh colored string and better described their new Extendable Ears, that they were trying to use to hear what was going on downstairs.

Ron warned they should be more careful with those, if Mum caught sight of them again-

Fred waved his brother off, saying it was worth the risk as they were having a major meeting.

Sirius sighed in disappointment Fred had skipped a perfectly good opportunity to use his name. Harry clearly needed the laugh he was sure it would have given.

The door opened and a long mane of red hair appeared.

Harry suddenly smiled for what felt like the first time in hours as he chuckled at his own description for seemingly no reason, and the others didn't even care enough to question it, they were just happy to see him fighting to get past whatever mood he was in.

She greeted him casually enough, saying she'd thought she'd heard his voice.

"Apparently everyone could." At least this time his voice had come out more self deprecating than angry. Then his face managed to brighten even more as he said, "I think that's the first time she's outright said hello to me like that."

"Only took her three years to do so," Sirius grinned, "maybe by next summer she'll carry on a conversation."

Then she turned to Fred and George and told it was pointless with the Ears, Mum had put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door.

"Darn mothers who think ahead," Remus pouted.

George pouted as he asked how his sister knew that.

Ginny explained Tonks had told her how to tell,

"Tonks keeps getting better and better though," Sirius smirked at the idea of that little kid growing up to teach kids such valuable things.

just throw stuff at the door and if it bounces off the Charm's in place. She'd flicked a few Dungbombs around but it was a no go.

Fred gave a disappointed sigh as he said he'd wanted to know what old Snape was up to.

"Snape?" They all chorused in disgust. Lily broke free of that first though as she thought back to wondering just what Snape did for the Order, and Dumbledore's rather interesting instructions to him at the end of last year. She remembered distinctly Dumbledore's words in saying Snape had turned spy for them and that's what had kept him out of Azkaban, and while the boys had initially dissed the idea as they refused to trust anything by him, Lily could almost feel hopeful for it even if it didn't make sense. What reason did he have to do this that hadn't been there when he joined in the first place?

Harry yelped his surprised while George agreed that he was downstairs giving a report now, while Fred added on he was a git.

Hermione reproved them, saying he was on their side.

"Doesn't make him not a git," James scowled.

Ron snorted that didn't stop him being a git.

"Here I was wishing Ron would appear here," Sirius smirked, "now I don't have to miss him."

James just chuckled as he agreed, but also said, "honestly though, any sane person but Hermione would say the same."

Ginny agreed Bill still didn't like him like that settled the matter.

"I wonder which brother Ginny looks up to the most," Remus snorted.

Harry wasn't sure if he was still angry or not, but the thirst for information was keeping his continued shouting held back.

"Whatever works love," Lily sighed, still wishing he'd apologize rather than just deciding to blow the matter over.

Harry asked if Bill was around, and Fred agreed he'd officially moved back from Egypt to get a desk job, with benefits.

The grin on his face made Harry question what that meant, and Fred asked if he still remembered Fleur Delacour?

"Oh?" They all muttered with intrigue, having thought nothing of the casual flirt mentioned in Harry's last year.

Well she'd gotten a job at Gringotts to eemprove er Eenglish, George mocked in a fake French accent, while Fred snickered along that Bill had been giving her private lessons.

"Well congratulations to the two, I hope they enjoy those lessons," Lily smirked while the boys outright began giggling as well at the news, or at least the way the twins had delivered it.

Charlie was technically in the Order to, George added on, but he was still in Romania as Dumbledore still wanted some foreign wizards out there and Charlie was making contacts when he could.

"I don't see why Bill couldn't have done that?" Remus said innocently enough, "I don't see how he needed to come back for just a little desk job."

"I'll explain it to you later Moony," Sirius smirked as he patted his friend's shoulder.

Harry asked wouldn't Percy be better for that job.

"Oh yeah," the three Marauders muttered, seeming to forget about him more often than not.

Harry though tensed all over again, a sudden blackening trying to shroud all memories he had of Percy.

Harry had last heard of that Weasley working for the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry.

"Well I'm happy you brought him up," Lily smiled, "I was curious if he got to keep his job in the department, I'd be really happy for him if he got something so young."

Harry just gave her a sad little frown as he resisted the impulse to start bracing himself for some very bad news.

At Harry's question though, all the Weasleys and Hermione exchanged darkly significant looks.

"Uhoh," James frowned in confusion as he tried to lean around Lily and see what that reaction was. He was no fan of Percy's but that hadn't been a pleasant start.

Ron at once told Harry not to mention him around his parents, while Fred told it was because Dad broke whatever he was holding and Mum started crying.

"What did he do?" Remus struggled to get out in a non-accusing voice, but it was hard to imagine him doing something to cause that reaction in his parents that wasn't terrible.

Ginny sadly agreed it's been awful to watch.

"Look Sirius, she is technically having a conversation with me," Harry muttered just to try and keep that bad feeling from washing over him any second.

"One on one then," Sirius corrected, his eyes still trained menacingly on the book and not to be distracted, even by this.

George agreed they were all shot of him now.

Harry insisted what had happened? Fred explained that his brother and Dad had a row, it was pretty out there, since Mum was usually the one who shouted.

Lily's eyes flipped wide in shock, she couldn't imagine having such a terrible fight with her child it caused that kind of reaction.

Ron went back a bit and said this was during the first week of their vacation, and they'd just been fixing to head over here. Percy had come home all smug because he'd been promoted.

"Wouldn't that be a good thing though?" Sirius' tone was still more icy than confusion, he'd never liked hearing about Percy and he wasn't at all liking how this was starting considering the last thing he'd heard about the Ministry hadn't been a good thing.

Harry was stunned at the news, since Percy's first job hadn't gone over well since he'd managed to neglect the fact that his boss was slowly going insane. (Though the Ministry and Harry differed on why that was.)

"No one noticed, I'd hardly think Percy had been blamed for that," Remus huffed.

George agreed they'd all been surprised since Percy had gotten in trouble for not reporting what was going on with Crouch, he'd gotten a hearing saying he should have told a superior.

"I guess I can kind of see that," James sighed, though he still didn't see how this had to do with having such a terrible fight with his parents.

Harry was still confused why he'd been promoted now, and Ron was almost eagerly explaining this to Harry just to stop him continuing shouting it seemed.

Harry winced with renewed chagrin at what he'd done to his friends, now realizing how his friends had felt all the more because of how his dad had shouted at him this morning.

Explaining he'd been all pleased that Percy was now working right in Fudge's office,

"Oh bollocks," Sirius groaned as he ran a hand miserably down his face. "Fudge didn't really try to do this did he?"

"Percy didn't really fall for this," Remus countered with a calculating look. "It's been made obvious Harry favors the Weasley's, and if Fudge really hates Harry now, then doing something like this for a Weasley doesn't make any sense."

Lily was fidgeting uneasily with the pages before she pressed herself to go on, now sincerely hoping this fight hadn't really been about what she was thinking.

as Fudge's Jr. Assistant.

"Really?" James demanded. "That, that's just so-" he cut himself off as he seemed to run out of words for how idiotic that felt. What was Fudge's game here?

He'd thought his parents would be proud.

"Well yes, if he'd earned it," Lily sighed.

"I don't get it," Harry frowned at them. "Yeah it's weird, but what's so bad?"

"If Fudge's attitude is anything like we last saw," Lily patiently explained, "than Percy getting something at a time like this should raise a red flag for him and his family that the Minister's up to something, putting someone so close to Harry Potter in his office."

"What?" Harry wanted to laugh, though his sinking gut was confirming she was right on point. "You think Fudge wants Percy to spy on me and report my favorite dessert?"

"Not in so light of questions though," Remus agreed grimly while Harry looked back to the book with worry.

They weren't, because Fudge had already been going around the Ministry telling anyone who was in league with Dumbledore to clear out their desk.

"Oh, and now Dumbledore's involved to," James groaned, this going from bad to worse.

Dumbledore's name had been tarnished in the Ministry lately because he kept trying to convince people that You-Know-Who was back.

"I can not believe any sane person would think like that," Sirius sneered.

"I don't understand why they wouldn't believe this," Harry ground out, trying his best not to shout another grievance that had been plaguing him that summer. "Ron said they were all ready to believe it when the Philosopher's Stone was nearly taken from Gringotts."

Lily looked at him sadly as she explained, "The concept is a bit skewed. There's a difference between people speculating and fearing, and outright saying it. I'm sure that if Dumbledore had declared that yes, Voldemort had been the one to do this, then people would have reacted the same then."

Harry still didn't think that made any sense, but stopped arguing the point.

George told how their dad explained Fudge was making it clear Dumbledore was just trying to destabilize their life, and anyone who was in league with Dumbledore could join him in not being welcome here.

"In league with him?" Lily demanded. "He's not the one trying to destabilize life!"

Fudge suspected Arthur of being close to Dumbledore, he always had been friendly, and that dad was a weirdo because of his obsession with Muggles.

"Which really shows more about Fudge than anything," James snapped in outrage, he found Arthur's fascination perfectly understandable and honestly compelling when Lily and Sirius treated him to Muggle education. It really showed how a person thought though when they'd hear the same things and look down on the whole civilization for not being as good as theirs.

Harry still didn't understand what this had to do with Percy, and so they told that their dad thinks Percy was only promoted to spy on the family and Dumbledore.

Harry gave a low whistle as he muttered about how much Percy would love that.

"But, Percy should know that?" Sirius forced himself to phrase it as a question. "He's smart enough to know when he's being played."

"The twins would have done it to him enough," James agreed.

Lily was just blinking slowly down at the pages now, she didn't even want to continue to what she now truly knew the fight had been about, she didn't want to hear about Percy fighting with his parents about this because she knew without a doubt Percy was wrong. The saddest part was though, some part of her still pitied the poor boy. She'd long since noticed he'd always felt ostracized from his family, and earning a promotion like this and going off his past experiences should have taught him his parents would praise him for this like always. Then they went and dismissed him, and Percy would feel shunned. It didn't excuse such a fight it left his parents in the mess they were at all though.

Ron gave a hollow laugh as he agreed, that Percy had started shouting at their dad all sorts of terrible things like how his dad had been holding him back in the Ministry.

"That sounds like completely the opposite though!" Sirius snapped. "Every time we've heard of Arthur he's out there helping someone out and on first name terms with a lot more people than Percy when his own boss didn't even know his name!" Sirius was breathing rather hard at the end, but he couldn't help it. Percy wasn't his family, but he could still feel the reminding sting of betrayal that rat had caused him as he heard of this. It was a different kind of betrayal, but choosing that Ministry over his family could not be worked out in his mind!

Harry was having trouble picturing Percy shouting such a thing when he could far more easily recall Percy splashing into the water just last year in concern for his brothers welfare. What had changed in that time to make Percy like this?

That Arthur was going to go down with Dumbledore's bad name and Percy was going to make it known he was no longer associated with that disloyalty to the Ministry.

Harry wasn't the only one scowling by the end of all that, no one could believe what they were watching Lily spit out in frustration. Of all the times they'd been agitated of hearing about Percy, they still would never have called this!

So now he'd made it clear he no longer belonged to their family.

"It's a good thing they don't know your real last name then, Weatherby," Remus sneered in disgust.

He'd packed his bags and left that night.

Harry swore under his breath at the end. He'd always liked Percy the least of the Weasley's, but even he wouldn't have called this.

"I still can't picture it," James whispered. He'd never imagined that Voldemort's return could manage to pull yet more families apart like it had his own. His eyes flickered to Remus briefly, unable to think yet again what it had implied they'd all be thinking about him in the coming year, and forced himself to listen to Lily go on.

Ron sighed as he explained their mother had been crying so much lately because of it, she'd tried going up to his place but all he'd done was slam the door in her face.

Lily couldn't stop a little hitch in her throat, even with Ron describing it she couldn't force the image into her head of any child turning on their mother like that. Molly did not deserve that for anything, especially as she was most likely only there to let him know she still loved him despite this decision.

Harry still couldn't understand why Percy would do this, he must know Voldemort was back and his dad wouldn't talk like this without proof.

"You would think," Sirius agreed nastily, "but I've never met someone so ignorantly stupid they wouldn't understand the word's Voldemort's back either."

Ron winced as he said Harry's name had been dragged in, that all the real evidence was what Percy had said, and that just wasn't good enough.

Harry watched those around him yelp furiously on his behalf again, making him smile just slightly at the defense.

Hermione sniffed Percy took the Daily Prophet seriously.

Before Sirius could even open his mouth to make his recurring joke, James suddenly half screamed, "how much was Percy told!?"

The baby in his lap let out a wail of protest at something so loud, but even while James began soothing him he had worried eyes on his best friend.

It only took but a moment for the others to realize what that implied, and Sirius lost a shade of color before he got out, "I'm sure if Percy knew anything new about me he'd have gone badgering that right to his new master."

Harry was saddened to see them all so easily flip on Percy, Sirius instantly resorting to those kinds of insults, and then confused at his own confusion as Harry was very sure Percy deserved it for the rest of his life. He was still trying to recall the time Percy had weaved himself through an angry crowd to fight back against those Death Eaters last year as the same guy who'd done this to his family. Something in him was trying to insist Percy must regret this...

"No, most likely it would have been an introduction type thing like what happened with Molly, so if I hadn't been around to their place yet, I'm sure he knows nothing about me."

It was comforting at least for the moment that Percy hadn't gone so far into the Order he would likely know more current whereabouts on Sirius at least. Did he know anything about the Order? Ron had said this had happened right before they'd been going to Grimmauld place, so surely Percy knew his family was fixing to relocate out of the Burrow and where they were headed? Maybe it had been like Harry though, and they'd only been told of the location right before they'd entered, so Percy had no clue of anything.

Harry asked what she meant by that?

Lily had to go back and reread what Hermione had actually said to set her husband into a panic, and then they were all just as baffled as Harry by the comment enough no one interrupted her in hopes Hermione would just explain.

Hermione's anxiety grew as she kept watching Harry, asking how thoroughly he'd been reading the paper?

"Why would he?" Remus began with his eyes narrowed.

Harry defended not cover to cover, just the front cover where any good news would be.

Hermione flushed as she tried to say that once a week they slipped in his name.

"Mention him how?" The others could already hear a growl beginning in Sirius' throat.

Harry tried to protest he'd have seen that, but Hermione corrected not if he'd just been glancing at the front page. They weren't big articles, just little things they'd slip in like he was a standing joke.

"A standing joke about what?" Lily began nastily, but forced herself to continue as she didn't even want to imagine what all was being said about her baby, what was being said would be bad enough.

They were all building on what Rita had said.

"Oh no," James began furiously ruffling up his hair at once. "Please don't tell me-"

Lily cut him off as her voice continued rising in sharpness.

Harry was confused, as he'd thought she wasn't writing anymore.

Hermione had a satisfied smirk in place for that, saying she was keeping to herself for now, not that she had a choice.

"I want to know if she's mentioned that to the twins, earn her a lot of respect in their book," Remus muttered bleakly, looking for anything good for just a moment.

But Skeeter's work was the foundation for what the Prophet was doing, which was how his scar had been hurting and he'd been collapsing last year.

"Could hardly forget," Harry muttered as those articles still stung him now thinking about.

She began saying all of this very fast, like hearing this quickly would hurt less,

Harry felt some distant part of him want to laugh for his friend which was not coming to him now at all of the grim, wide eyed faces.

that the Prophet was taking those old stories, and now every time someone got hurt, they'd make the snippy comment they hoped he didn't have a scar so they'd have to worship him next.

Harry really had been trying to keep himself under control, so it surprised him when his Mum didn't and she exploded a mountain of diatribe on that Prophet and what they were doing to her Hare Bare. The boys watched her vent like they just had about Percy, agreeing with every word she said so much they were just a bit disappointed when Harry gently cleared his throat and tried to cut her off.

"Really Mum, it ticked me off too, but-"

"It's disgusting," she insisted like she thought Harry was trying to argue that point. "The Ministry I work for would never force the Prophet into pulling these stunts, but clearly the editor's right in Fudge's back pocket and I can't believe anyone would do this to you!" She wanted to keep pressing her point right up into Fudge's face, but as Harry continued to look sadly at her she instead turned burning eyes back on the pages.

Harry half began shouting at once he didn't want anyone doing that!

Hermione quickly cut him off, saying they knew that, but the Ministry was telling the Prophet to say all that to keep Harry as a discredited little boy who just wants to keep being famous.

"Has he completely lost whatever a mind he had!" James gaped. "He's only famous because of what Voldemort did to him," clearly the act of saying his own murder still couldn't really get through his mouth, "what possible reason could Fudge think Harry would make that up for!?"

"If I find out, I'll be sure to let you know," Harry sighed, now feeling even more guilty for his earlier anger as he kept trying to curb theirs without success.

Harry spluttered with pure indignity that Voldemort had killed his parents!

Lily too couldn't manage to quite get that out in her tempered voice, but it hardly cooled her either as she kept going venomously.

Ginny cut in saying they knew that, and Hermione flipped to mentioning she was surprised they hadn't mentioned that dementor attack yet.

Remus' brows shot up in surprise at this turn of circumstances.

Some thought they would, because not only were out of control dementors a big deal, but Harry's doing magic would tie in perfectly with this whole image they were painting of him being so above it all. They were probably just waiting until after the trial though so they could really go to town with the scene.

"But he's not going to be expelled," Sirius snarled at once. "So apparently they're just going to sit on that story forever, poor them."

Harry managed a smile for his godfather's utter confidence in that, managing to increase his own in that outcome and increasingly improving his mood about that at least.

Then she corrected herself that's what would happen if he was expelled, but he wouldn't be, the law was on his side.

"If they abide by their own laws half the things I've heard them doing lately wouldn't be done," Lily snapped.

Before Harry had to think of a response to that, conversation was cut short by soft steps on the stairs, and the twins instantly vanished with another crack, their Extendable Ears in hand.

"Because Molly wouldn't be at all suspicious why the twins would choose to vanish as someone approached," James sighed as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose, wishing he could put more energy into the comment but already feeling strained from so many stressful chapters in a row now. How was this one already worse than the last?

A second later and Mrs. Wesley poked her head in, saying dinner was almost ready and the meeting was over.

Harry still huffed with one last tick of annoyance he'd been left out of that.

They could come downstairs now, though she did ask why there were Dungbombs all across the door?

Ginny said Crookshanks at once.

"I'm so proud," Sirius blinked more in confusion than actual pride though. "She's come so far already."

"Ginny's getting more interesting as time goes by as well," James agreed at once, hoping to stay on a pleasant topic for just five minutes now felt like a miracle.

Mrs. Weasley instantly bought it, though she at first thought it had been Kreacher,

"No!"

The sudden outburst from Sirius had Harry and Remus nearly leaping from their seats in shock, which he clearly took no notice of as he kept going hatefully.

"Of all the rotten luck! My parents kicked the bucket but that nasty little blighter couldn't have gone with them! Just what did I do to deserve having that thing in my sole care!"

"I'd think you'd find it a good thing," James tried to offer up some happy suggestion for this. "Now you can clothe him and just have him out of your life for good." The odd part was though, if Sirius was going to do that he'd have done it already.

Sirius didn't offer up any more suggestions though as he huffed and grumbled a bit more under his breath while Lily tried to ignore the outburst she found uncalled for.

he kept doing odd things like that. Then she reminded they all keep their voices down in the hall.

"Still haven't explained why they have to do that," Remus grumbled as he massaged his ear and glared at Sirius, at least he understood his friends consternation a little better, but now his ear felt like it was starting to ring from all the shouting going on so recently.

Then she spotted Ginny's hands and how dirty they were, and commanded she go wash up before eating.

She made a face at them as she left behind her mother, and then Ron and Hermione exchanged an uneasy look, as if fearing Harry was going to start shouting again now that they were alone.

Harry's mouth went dry as he ducked his head all over again for causing his friends to ever look at him like that, now wishing he could give himself a good kick in the rear.

"At least you clearly regret it," James tried to pacify him, Harry had suffered enough guilt it was time he be comforted at least a bit. "I've only ever had one really bad row with Sirius, and we didn't exactly hug it out when all was said and done. You apologize to them, I'm sure they won't think on it any more."

Harry looked up towards the book hopefully.

The sight of their unease left him feeling ashamed, and he tried to begin saying something, but Hermione cut him off saying she'd expected him to be angry, but they'd only been doing what Dumbledore had thought was best, even though they did try to tell their headmaster-

Harry cut her off shortly.

"Well that could have gone better," Remus chuckled.

"But at least you seem on equal ground again," Sirius sighed as he tried to get that old problem out of his head.

He looked around for something else to say, as talking of the headmaster only made Harry want to shout some more.

"Not a good thing to be lingering on for now then," Lily muttered as she knew that if Harry's temper did break again, it really should be on him.

Then asked who Kreacher was?

"Well that's not helping," Sirius grumbled, wondering what he'd done to have so much of his family being pushed back into his mind all of a sudden.

Ron explained he was the house-elf of the place, a nutter.

Hermione tried to correct he wasn't one, but Ron said back that his life's ambition was to have his head on a plaque with the others.

"At least Walburga taught him something then," Sirius' teeth flashed with that grin in an almost predatory way, "I'm sure I can help with that."

"Sirius, you're disgusting me," Lily snapped at him before reading loudly in hopes he was kidding.

She tried to defend if he was a bit strange it wasn't entirely his fault.

Ron rolled his eyes and told Harry she still hadn't given up on her SPEW stuff.

"I think I'd be worried for her if she had though," Remus chuckled. "Little fighter that she is, I can't imagine she will until she gets what she wants."

"Least she could do is leave that elf out," Sirius huffed.

Hermione at once began defending her Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Even Dumbledore said they should be more kind to Kreacher.

Harry suddenly felt an alarm bell going off in the back of his head, leaning just that little bit closer to Sirius and suddenly very worried for his godfather's behavior towards his house-elf...

Ron brushed her off and lead the way downstairs.

Then he held out a hand on the landing, stopping them all in place as they spotted the crowded hallway below, they might be able to hear something.

Finally they all felt themselves focusing on something they all wanted to hear about again, even the current Order members were insanely curious what was going on in this future.

The three peeked over the banister to see Snape leading towards the door.

James suddenly realized at the beginning that it had in fact ben Snape Molly must have been referring to as having arrived, and his agitation only increased as he realized Dumbledore really wasn't there to give some kind of explanation to Harry for leaving him like that for so long?

Harry leant further over the banisters. He was very interested in what Snape was doing for the Order of the Phoenix . . .

"Well all are," Sirius begrudgingly agreed, his mind still trying to work out just what exactly that was and when it would start taking place. If he started seeing Snivellus at his meetings, Sirius wasn't going to be a happy camper with his Order much longer.

Trickling down in front of their face was a flesh-colored bit of string, and Harry glanced up to see the twins had the same idea and were trying to listen on the whispers.

"Have I mentioned how brilliant those two are?" James' eyes brightened with excitement as he fully appreciated this fascinating device. "As if I needed any more proof they're set for life with all we've heard so far, this is such a cool idea I'd buy a dozen!"

It did not work though, as just as they were in range Snape and most of the others exited out the door.

Ron muttered that at least Snape didn't eat here as he grudgingly took to the stairs.

"As if there isn't enough filth in that house," Sirius sneered even as his mind tried to boggle Snivellus in his childhood home. Well the two did go hand in hand with how filthy they were.

Hermione hissed another reminder at Harry to keep himself quiet as they reached the landing where the drapes were.

"Is anyone going to explain that?" Lily grumped as it just kept being mentioned.

Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, and Tonks were bolting the door shut after the left members and were turning to head towards the kitchen with the younger ones, when CRASH.

"So that quiet thing didn't seem to work out," Remus blinked in confusion.

It was Tonks, who instantly started apologizing she kept tripping over that umbrella stand from the ground.

"She really is a clumsy little one," James chuckled at the thought.

"Best use that troll's foot ever came to, getting knocked over by that girl," Sirius smirked.

The rest of her words were drowned by a horrible, ear-splitting, blood-curdling screech.

Lily suddenly recoiled into the cushions in shock, and some honest fear as she glanced at her boy and back to the pages with concern. Before anyone could demand, she kept reading anyways.

The curtains behind them had flown open, and the noise was coming from a life size portrait of a horrifying looking woman.

"Oh she didn't," Sirius began, looking almost faint from the overwhelming disgust he could feel at such a thing existing.

Her skin was yellow and stretched tight, with rolling eyes and flyaway black hair, and all along the hall beside her more drapes were flying open to reveal other portraits that began shouting just as loudly.

Mrs. Weasley and Lupin jumped forward at once to try and close the curtains back around the screeching noises and multiple insults.

Remus was almost concerned this didn't seem to be new to him, how many times had this happened? He had a horrible idea who this vile woman was actually a portrait of, as he kept watching Sirius' face as he seemed to be in a living nightmare.

Such things as scum, half-breeds, mutants befouling her father's house!

Tonks was apologizing incessantly behind them, while Mrs. abandoned the large one and began trying to stun the smaller ones instead, while a dark haired man came charging up the stairs behind Harry.

"I think I found Sirius," James whispered to no one as Sirius' mouth was starting to drop open with horror.

He began howling right back at the portrait to shut UP!

The woman's face blanched when she saw him, doubling up her insults to blood traitor, and abomination of her flesh!

Sirius began opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, apparently too appalled for words back, for now.

He roared again for her to shut up, as he and Lupin finally managed to get the curtains closed. Now that her noise had been cut off, the others began silencing as well, as Harry's godfather turned back to face him as greeted him grimly, saying at least now he'd met his mother.

"Chapter's done," Lily sighed as she passed the book to James and took her baby back, all of them still braced for Sirius to crack and some kind of reaction to burst out.

HPHPHPHP

I did not mean to dramatically end with Sirius twice in a row, but I can't resist cutting these chapters off either because I'm a terrible person like that.

*I've had a few people ask me to explain why Lily and James weren't their own Secret Keeper, and I promise I'll bring that up in book seven when Bill mentions he's his own, but for now I couldn't think to make the same rules apply to an empty house that didn't belong to Dumbledore in any way.

[ghosttotheparty]

cotton candy skies always look better in person

8. also on AO3 chapter seven

The way he said it in the text, you’d think Lucas has only drawn Jens once, but the truth is, he’s drawn him several times. Not that he’d tell him that, of course.

There’s a doodle from the cafe, and the one he did before he tossed the napkin, which was too wrinkled for his liking. There’s also the sketches of Jens copied from photos Lucas has of him, one of Jens’s silhouette against the sky, one of Jens smiling bashfully, one of Jens pretending to pose like a model. (Lucas had said, “Oh, perfect, you should try for Vogue.”) He’s also added some of his own touches to some of them, colouring Jens with abstract colours, lightly tracing music notes around his head like a crown, drawing sunflowers and daisies and roses around him.

Again, not that he’s ever planning on Jens, or anyone for that matter, ever seeing them.

Every sheet that he draws Jens on, every sheet that ends up covered in little sketches of him, is ripped out of his sketchbook and folded before being placed between the pages of his dictionary on his desk (which he really doesn’t even know why he has; he’s never used it for anything except storing secret drawing).

As he places the dictionary back on his desk, his door swings open and a head pops in, scanning the room until his cousin’s eyes land on him.

“Milan!” Lucas says, exasperated. “What did we say about knocking?”

“Sorry,” Milan says, clearly not. “Uh, I have some friends coming by. They should be here in a bit if you want to meet them before your daily jaunt.”

“Jaunt…” Lucas whispers to himself as he slides the book in all the way. “Yeah, sure.” He turns to face Milan and sees that he’s holding himself up as he leans into the room, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the knob.

“Cool! I’ve got one friend, I think you’ll like him, he’s an artist too.” He’s speaking rapidly, visibly excited. “He did the uh… You know what, I’ll let him tell you.” Before Lucas can respond, Milan is gone, the door shut behind him.

“Okay,” Lucas says after staring at the door for a second. He jumps on his bed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and throwing himself onto his back, the thud loud around the room. The room is quieter than usual, his window closed to keep the cold out, but keeping the city sounds out as well. He can only faintly hear cars outside, covered by the window and walls, and the hum of his heater. (And Milan singing loudly in the kitchen but Lucas ignores that.)

Bored, he opens his chat with Jens and scrolls up to read their past messages.

A message from Jens reads:

My grandpa’s visiting so I’ve locked myself in my room

When he first read it, Lucas had considered asking why he didn’t want to be with his grandpa, but decided against it, replying Sounds lonely. What are you doing? to which Jens responded with a photo. The picture is of his leg, wrapped in dark fabric and his foot covered with a canvas ballet shoe, propped up on a wooden bar attached to the wall. The message under it read This, homework, and playing guitar for my sister. At the time, Lucas had smiled, typing Nice, lame, sweet. But now he opens the picture, raising the brightness of the screen and zooming in to see how the muscles of Jens’s leg twist, to see the contours of his leg as Jens points his foot. He wonders if Jens would ever let him take a photo of him doing ballet. It would make a great anatomy study. But it might sound like… something else, Lucas realises, clicking out of the picture and dropping his phone as his face flushes.

He pushes himself up, grabbing his satchel from the floor next to his bed, and stands, putting his phone in his pocket again, making his way to his desk and grabbing a thick sketchbook and several pencils and small brushes, tucking them into the bag with a small watercolour palette. He stands back and scans his desk, scouring it for anything else he might need. He tosses in an eraser before closing the bag.

He hears the front door open and a boy’s voice call, “Hello?”

Milan yells back, “Robbe!” loudly, and Lucas opens his door, looking down the hall to see a brown-haired boy wearing a beanie greeting Milan, smiling as Milan pecks his cheeks. The boy, Robbe, Lucas assumes, steps through the threshold as Milan hugs the boy behind him, a tall boy with white hair. He steps past and follows Robbe to the living room, Robbe reaching behind himself to hold the boy’s hand. Another boy steps in, a boy with curly hair and a big smile, and hugs Milan before he’s pushed out of the way by another, a boy with brown skin and short hair. He’s pretending to cry as he and Milan embrace each other.

“I missed you so much,” the boy sobs and Milan laughs as the curly-haired boy shakes his head and follows Robbe to the living room.

“You know you can come to see me whenever right?”

“Oh, be careful with that,” the boy states, dropping the act, and he pulls back, pausing so Milan can kiss his cheek. “I might just move into Robbe’s room.”

“You’re too late, it’s taken.” Milan looks back, seeing Lucas, and nods, gesturing for him to come forward. “My cousin’s moved in.”

Lucas grabs his bag before moving into the hall, dropping it to the floor by the front door.

“Moyo,” the boy says, and Lucas shakes his hand.

“Lucas.”

“What are you doing outside? Come in,” Milan says, leaning out the door, speaking to someone Lucas can’t see, and Moyo steps to the side to watch Milan.

“Sorry, I’m texting my mom,” a familiar voice says, and somehow Lucas’s heart drops and flies at the same time. “How are you?”

Jens steps through the door, a hand on Milan’s shoulder, and kisses Milan’s cheek as Milan kisses his.

“I’m alright, sweetie.”

Jens tucks his phone into his pocket as Milan shuts the door behind him and looks at Lucas, his eyes widening as he does a short double-take, but before Lucas can greet him or smile, Jens is holding his hand out.

“I’m Jens.”

Lucas shakes his hand hesitantly and furrows his brow at him. Jens doesn’t respond, his face blank.

“Lucas.” He gives Jens a tight smile as Milan turns to them, and Jens smiles back, the look on his face, his demeanour, unfamiliar, and kind of unnerving. Jens lets go of his hand and steps past him, following Moyo.

“Cutie, isn’t he?” Milan asks, seeing Lucas’s eyes follow Jens.

“I— Yeah. Yeah, he’s pretty.”

“Sander, Lucas is an artist,” Milan says as they enter the living room, and the white-haired boy looks at him, smiling and raising his eyebrows. Robbe’s leg is strewn across his lap, and Sander’s hands run up and down it as Robbe tosses his arm around his shoulders, running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah?”

Lucas nods, glancing at Jens, who is sitting on the floor, and smiles.

“What do you do?” Sander asks.

“Uhm…”Lucas sits across from them on the floor. “Portraits, mostly.”

“Aren’t those really hard?” Moyo asks from his spot on the sofa.

“Eh, depends.” Lucas shrugs. “I also do some landscapes and stuff.”

“Have you ever done any live studies?” Sander asks.

“I’ve done, like, drawing people in front of me,” Lucas says. He can feel Jens watching him speak, and the air feels tight, tense, but none of the other guys seems to notice. “I’ve never done a nude study. I’d like to, though.”

“We do those at school sometimes, they’re fun.”

Lucas nods.

“You’ve probably seen one of Sander’s pieces, Lucas,” Milan says, and Lucas looks at Sander, confused. Sander is laughing softly, looking away, and Robbe pokes his cheek. The others are laughing, looking like they’re teasing Sander. Lucas can see Jens’s smile in his peripheral vision. “Sander, tell him!”

“Ahh…” Sander shakes his head, adjusting his seat on the sofa. “You’ve been down by the canal right?” Lucas nods. “You know that...giant mural of a face—” Robbe snickers next to him, “—it kinda looks like it’s coming out of the wall?”

Lucas thinks for a second before he remembers it, a mural of a boy’s face, breaking through the brick wall, the break shaped like a heart. He remembers staring at it for a while, wondering about the story behind it.

“No fucking way.” Lucas’s jaw drops as he smiles, and Sander nods, grinning bashfully. “That was you?”

“That was him,” Robbe says fondly, leaning over and kissing Sander’s pink cheek.

“Oh!” Lucas looks at Robbe’s face, really looking at him for the first time. “Oh, shit!” He points at him, realisation dawning on his face. “It’s you! I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Sander says as the boys all laugh. “My model.” He pats Robbe’s leg and Robbe gives him a look.

Lucas catches Jens glancing in his direction at the words, but ignores him. He zones out for a second, his eyes trained on the coffee table in front of him, the awkwardness between him and Jens becoming overwhelming.

“Do you guys want anything?” he says, accidentally interrupting Moyo. “Water, beer? I think we have cola?” He looks at Milan for confirmation and Milan nods.

“Can I have a cola?” Sander asks, and Lucas sees that his and Robbe’s legs are now tangled, Sander’s arm around Robbe’s waist nearly pulling him into his lap.

“Beer,” Robbe says, looking at Lucas as he stands, looking ta Moyo.

“Same.”

“Aaron?” Milan asks, and the curly-haired boy looks up from his phone.

“Uh, beer. Thanks.” He shoots Lucas a smile, and Lucas looks to Jens, trying to act normal.

“Oh, I can help you carry everything.” Jens uses the coffee table to push himself up and Lucas nods, turning to the kitchen.

“What about me?” Milan says behind him.

“You live here, I’m not hosting you.”

The door shuts behind him and Jens, drowning out the boys’ snickering and Lucas can feel Jens’s eyes on him. He ignores him, going to the fridge and pulling out a soda can and a beer, setting them on the counter before reaching in again. He doesn’t plan on talking to Jens. After all, they’re strangers now.

“Lucas.” Jens’s voice is low and rough.

And just like that, Lucas’s vow snaps like a taut rubber band.

“Is there a reason we suddenly don’t know each other?” he says, his back to Jens as he pulls out another beer.

“Look, I don’t…” Jens trails off and sighs. Lucas pulls out two more beers and slams the fridge shut, turning around. His lips press together as he looks at Jens, raising his eyebrows and tilting his chin slightly. They stare at each other for a second and Jens’s shoulders drop, looking across the room at Lucas but looking like he’s looking up at him.

“Why don’t I know you?’ Lucas asks, and Jens doesn’t answer.

Sudden anger flares in Lucas and he looks away, tossing his hands.

“Whatever, Jens,” he says, resigned, and he turns to pick up the can and bottles on the counter, managing to pick up the bottle opener next to them, before turning back to Jens and stepping forward. He shoves a bottle into Jens’s hand, and apparently, no matter how angry Lucas is, Jens’s touch still brings sparks, because their fingers brush and Lucas nearly jerks his hand away, feeling like he’s been electrocuted.

“Lu, just—”

Lucas’s heart flutters at the nickname, and he pulls the kitchen door open, stepping into the living room.

“—to Noor?” Aaron’s voice says.

“We’re friends.” Moyo sounds exasperated, and all the guys hum, cocking their heads at him.

“Are you dure?” Milan says as Lucas leans in front of him, handing Sander the can and Robbe a bottle.

“I’m out,” Lucas says, nodding as Moyo says “Thanks,” after taking a bottle and the opener from Lucas’s hand. “I’m gonna try and paint before it rains.”

Jens takes his place on the floor, reaching up as Moyo passes him the bottle opener.

“Ooh, have fun,” Sander says, wincing as the can cracks open.

Lucas forces a smile and waves to them, leaving the room, not looking back. He snatches his bag from the ground and his jacket from the hook on the wall, and then swings the door open, calling “It was nice meeting you!” He gets a small round of “Bye!” in response.

If he had looked back while leaving the room, he would have seen Jens’s eyes following him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 50: The Heart of the Matter

Honesty was the cricket's suggestion. Be truthful, be honest, be blunt, and he'd "know what to do"? He had opinions about "honesty" and his ability to "know what to do." Strong opinions. But before he could open his mouth to give them to the cricket, he heard his cell phone chime in his pocket. The only people who ever called him on his cell phone were Dove or his cousins, and even then, only if something was wrong. He didn't say a word to excuse his behavior to Archie, Mr. Gold wouldn't, instead he just pulled out the phone, looked at the little screen to identify the caller, and furrowed his brow. That was odd…

"I thought I told you to take some time for vacation," he commented to Dove.

"Yeah, thanks for that, I'm grateful," Dove answered, sounding uncertain. He let out a long sigh. "It's just…do you have anyone else staying up here at the cabins? Besides me?"

"No. Is there a reason you asked that?"

"Yeah…just happened to look out the window across the lake. There's a guy on your property, over by your private cabin."

His chest felt tight, and his mouth went dry. "A man?"

"Yes. Tall, black clothes-"

"Dark hair?"

"Yes."

He swallowed, trying hard not to glance at Archie lest he give something too important away. "The stranger in town?"

Dove groaned as if he was looking out the window, trying to identify who he was seeing. "Could be," was his answer. "Little too far to see, but it could be him. I don't see a motorcycle, but I don't see a car either. He had to get up here somehow. No one could walk from town."

And from the angle of Dove's cabin to his own, it was unlikely he'd see the long driveway. That wasn't helpful. He wanted something more substantial than that to base his suspicions on, even if he felt like he already knew what was going on.

"What's he doing?" he asked quietly.

"Just…walking. Not pacing, but definitely walking back and forth on the lake. It's like he's…I don't know…searching for something."

Fuck. That couldn't be permitted because the honest truth was that whether this was Booth or Baelfire or some random stranger who'd gotten lost in the woods, he'd hidden the dagger up near the cabin after Emma came to town. Whoever was out there was searching for something, and the most precious thing in the world was within their grasp. He couldn't just sit here and do nothing about it. But if it was Baelfire…

"You need me to get him to go, boss?"

"No, I'm on my way. I'll handle it," he muttered before closing the phone and gathering his cane. "Thank you for your help doctor, I'm afraid I have to cut this short," he explained, getting to his feet and turning toward the door. "Feel free to take an hour of your time out of next month's rent."

On the drive up to the cabin, he made sure to keep himself calm; eyes on the road and two hands on the wheel at all times. He figured that he managed to do a good job at looking calm, even if he felt anything but calm on the inside. Booth, potentially Baelfire, potentially a stranger up at the cabin. He didn't know which one he wanted it to be. One second he found himself hoping it would be a stranger, that he could scream and yell and wave his cane in the air before calling Emma to arrest him for trespassing. The next moment he hoped it was Booth, that he could finally have a chance to get some answers from him. And in the next moment, he hoped those answers would be the end to a centuries-long mission to find his son. He hoped they might reconcile. He hoped…

It wasn't a stranger wandering around his cabin. It was the stranger.

Booth was there, just like Dove said he would be. He'd driven up to the cabin with the car lights off to catch him unaware, and as he crept closer to the man, he noted the way that he was kicking at some of the loose dirt and larger rocks around the property, just like he was looking for something, as Dove had said. Looking for something…the dagger? That was the only thought that forced him to accept he couldn't stay in his car forever or drive away and pretend like he hadn't seen it. He was going to have to confront the man. His son?

Finally, he worked up the nerve to get out of the car and paced to the other side of the cabin. He hadn't meant to be seen, not yet, but…his son always had been a sharp one. He noticed him immediately. He'd been caught. Now what? Booth? Or Baelfire? He swallowed hard. There was a way to test his theory.

"I know who you are," he lied, searching his face for any hint of recognition. It was there. The boy moved closer to him as he pressed, "And I know what you're looking for."

"Well, then…I guess all the lying can stop…Papa."

His heart stopped. And then it swelled. It drummed back to life with an ominous boom he felt in every nook and cranny of his body. He began to sweat as the world around him tunneled, the edges of his vision blurred until the only crystal clear image in front of him was...

Papa.

Only one person had ever called him that in all his life.

Baelfire.

His Baelfire.

Here now, before him! After everything he'd done to get to him, he had come to him. He should want to run to him, to fall into his arms, to beg forgiveness. So why did he want to run away?

Archie had said that when they met, he'd know what to say. But as he stared at him in utter disbelief, he wasn't sure he knew what he was supposed to say. To his son?! It would have been easier if the ghost of Belle suddenly snuck up on him! Except…what was it that Archie had said? Tell him what he'd told him. What was it he'd told him? That he was sorry? That he missed him. No.

He knew what he'd said. He knew what to say. He knew what he needed to say. He'd come all this way to see him again. He'd come all this way to deliver a message and tell him one essential thing. He was sorry. It wasn't Baelfire who needed forgiveness. It was him. Maybe…without being too complicated, without making excuses, without holding back…he might get it out. So he took a breath and dared to step closer.

"You were right, Bae," he choked out.

Bae turned his head away to look out over the lake. Looking away, how many times had he seen him do that in his youth when he wasn't ready to hear what he had to say? But he had to hear it. Because his father had to say it, or else his heart would hurt like this for the rest of his life.

"You were always right. I was a coward, and I never should've let you go. I know it's little consolation, but…I just want you to know that ever since you left, ever since you crossed the barriers of time and space, in every waking moment…I've been looking for you."

His voice cracked. The back of his throat swelled with the tears he'd been holding back. Especially when he saw Bae's face begin to twist up as well. Tears. Tears could be good. For them both. He took a timid step forward. Baelfire didn't come closer, but he didn't back away as he moved toward him either.

"And now that I've finally found you… I know I can't make up for the past, for the lost time. All I can do is to ask you to do what you've always done. And that's to be the bigger man…and forgive me. I'm so sorry, son. I'm so sorry, Bae."

It was a surprise, a true shock to him when Bae's face contorted beyond recognition. He launched himself at him, and in the time it took him to consider what was about to happen, he felt arms around him, pressure pushing around his body. He hardly recognized what it was to be embraced as Baelfire cried onto his shoulder, and he wept. "Oh, my boy. My beautiful boy!"

His heart…oh, his heart felt like it might shatter. Belle had the ability to break his Curse, and in this moment, he wished he had magic because he knew that if he dared to kiss his son's cheek or his forehead that Curse would leave him again, and he wouldn't fight it off this time. This feeling inside of him, warmth and happiness and excitement…it would overpower any instinct to claw into him that the Dark Curse had ever had, and he'd be just a normal, ordinary man again. He'd be just a father. A father to his son. They could erase the years apart. They could break the Curse together and leave or stay here in Storybrooke; Curse be damned. So long as all was well. Was all well, wasn't it?

"Can you truly, truly forgive me?"

"I forgive you, Papa," he muttered into his ear.

He squeezed tighter at the words. Forgiveness. Reconciliation. Completion. He'd done it. He'd done what he'd set out to do. He'd crossed into a Land Without Magic, and his son had found him. He told him he was sorry, and now all was well. Truly, truly well. Except…the picture he'd drawn of the dagger, the one in his room at Granny's flashed in front of his eyes. Why? Why that dagger?

"You were looking for the knife."

"I thought that if you still had it, it would mean that you hadn't changed."

Was that all? He wanted to know if he'd changed? He had. Or at least he could! If that dagger was what he needed to prove it, then he could take it, and they'd cast it into the bottom of the ocean. What did he care?! In the Land Without Magic, it was useless anyway; just a pointy scrap of metal. The world would be better off without it, without his Curse. He had Baelfire. He had what he'd come for, the most important thing to him left on this earth. If getting rid of it was the key…well then…

"Well, let's go and find it and see."

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #340

“wash the poison from off my skin  /  show me how to be whole again”

What is one thing that you took to show and tell as a kid? I have this oddly specific memory of bringing my little Snorlax plushie for one in pre-k. I remember thinking everyone thought I was weird for liking Pokemon as a girl. Do you remember losing your first tooth? I don't. Have you ever been addicted to a game? What game? I think I was addicted to World of Warcraft at a point, but it's honestly hard to tell. My depression was just so abysmal that it was the one thing I got even a smidge of not even joy, but active distraction out of because the options of what you can do in the game are essentially limitless. Are you afraid to pop a balloon? Not really, but it does make me jump because I don't like loud noises. Name one person you’d like to see this month. Bitch we fighting Covid, stay away from me. When was the last time you laughed when you shouldn’t have? I don’t know. Which was better: the first The Lion King or the second? They're nearly tied, honestly, but I prefer the original. Do any of your grandparents have a tattoo? I KNOW my maternal grandmother didn't, and I don't believe any other grandparent did, either. When was the last time you had a bubble bath? Not since I was a kid. What do you usually buy when you go to the corner store? You mean like, a gas station or dollar store? Something small like that? In that case, I'll usually look for a Mountain Dew Voltage sometimes along with something Reese's-related. Do you believe that your pets feel love towards you? My cat, absofuckinglutely. He so obviously loves me. I know my snake doesn't though, considering reptilian brains just physically aren't capable of creating that emotion. She does, however, obviously trust me and definitely seems to enjoy coming out of her terrarium and thus hanging out by me. Bubbles or sidewalk chalk? I loved drawing with chalk, but I like bubbles more. I just love how they catch light and have such beautiful colors to share. What do you use to tell time when your gone out somewhere? My phone. Are you proud of your body? FUCK no. I wish I still was, goddammit. I used to be so fit, and it's funny, because even back then at like, 118 lbs at 5'4'', I thought I was kinda chubby. Like bitch shut the fuck up. Watermelon or cherries? I honestly don't like either, but I'll definitely pick watermelon over cherries. They're disgusting. What is your all-time favourite song? "False Flags" by Massive Attack. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? Biiiiiitch guess lmao. I think everyone has, though. What is the band you’ve listened to most lately? Definitely 3TEETH. Love 'em. Favourite brand of cookies? Hm, good question. They've gotta be good at making SOFT chocolate chip cookies, though. I don't enjoy crunchy cookies nearly as much. If you could meet anyone who lived before your time, who would it be? I don't really know. Oh, y'know, chatting with Edgar Allan Poe would probably be cool. Do you pay for your own things? I literally can't. It's embarrassing. Have you ever been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance? No. What is one thing you’d never want your parents to find out? Certain sexual things I've done, probably. When you were little, did you like Dr. Suess books? Of course. Have you ever felt trapped in a relationship? I felt that way in my friendship with Colleen, but no romantic relationships. What would you consider unforgivable? Rape. Like no, go to hell. Do you like eating out at restaurants? Pre-Covid, yeah. What do you dislike the most about being the gender that you are? Probably how heavily judged women are for having ANYTHING "wrong" with their appearance. You could be five pounds over what is "normal" for your height and you're seen as fat. One strand of body hair, and you're disgusting. Bushy eyebrows, you're now manly. I could go on and on. Do you think that weed/marijuana should be legalized? Yes. Rate your typing speed on a scale from 1 - 10? 10. Do you enjoy tanning? Ugh, no. Just sitting there doing nothing but sweating. Have you ever written anybody an anonymous note? I have not. What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Ketchup. Have you ever laid in a hammock? Yeah; we used to have one. It was the best when we lived in the woods. Do you blow dry your hair or do you let it air out? I just let it air dry. Candles or incense? I prefer incense. Can you juggle? No. Your favorite vegetable? Broccoli. Do you catch lizards? No; I don't like terrifying wildlife. I'd much rather just take pictures of the little guys and let them go about their business. If we returned to a world without internet, what aspect of online life would you miss the most? YouTube, haha. It's more unique and personal entertainment than television, imo. Are you craving anything aside from food, and if so, what? I want a new piercinggggg. What was the last change you made to your lifestyle? I'm *trying* to get back into regularly making art, along with reading. I'm also really trying to implement drinking more water into my day. What was the last thing you gave up doing? *shrug* What was the last thing to boost your self-esteem? What sort of things typically make you feel good about yourself? It really, really helped to hear my PHP group enjoy my poem about gay rights so much. I was so terrified and did NOT want my therapist to share it, but it turned out being very beneficial. To answer the second question, it's pretty much stuff like I just mentioned: positive reactions to things I create. When it comes to food, do you prefer crunchy or softer textures? Definitely softer. Do you prefer savory or sweet things for breakfast? Hm. Depends on the day, ig. What is something small that you take extremely personally? I'm blanking. What was going on the last time you couldn’t sleep? I just... couldn't sleep. That's not rare for me. Have you drawn anything recently? I recently drew a picture of a still from Rammstein's "Mutter" music video, and I'm now working on Sara's 'kat Alucard. If you're going somewhere close by, do you walk? No. One simply does not walk in this town and not fear being shot. Do you prefer colorful notebooks over plain ones? I like colorful ones, particularly those with a nice pattern or something on it. What's your most ambitious goal? I'd consider wanting to be a successful freelance photographer to be rather ambitious. Do you know anyone named Alex? Well, knew, by this point. One of my closest online friends that just got a boyfriend and fell off the face of the planet when we used to talk every day. I'm still hurt about it, honestly. What's your favorite kind of pie? I don't like pie because of the crust being so, well... crusty and crumbly. Have you ever chatted someone up and scored a date? No. How far would you go with someone you just met? Not very far at all. All you're getting is a hug, if even that. What's your favorite meal to have for dinner? I mean, it depends on what I feel like having. I don't have a set favorite meal. What do you daydream about? The future, mostly. People I miss. Have you ever known someone online and then met them in person? If so, which website did you meet on? Yes, Sara. <3 We met via YouTube back when it had much more social connection. Have you ever been to the beach? Yeah, a good number of times. When was the last time you were sick and what illness did you have? I don't believe I've been ill in any sort of way since I had that ungodly ear infection a few years ago. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? Yeah, Colleen's house. Mom once tried kicking me out of the car one night otw home, but I didn't listen. Have you ever intentionally trolled? No. How many siblings do your parents have? Mom has two brothers and I think one sister, and Dad has one sister. Who last held your hand? My niece or nephew, dragging me somewhere, haha. Have you seen all the Lord of the Rings movies? No, not interested. What was the last thing you watched on YouTube? I'm watching John Wolfe's playthrough of Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs. It's so funny how like... every let's player I watch doesn't enjoy the game, like they miss the incredible symbolism and shy away from the advanced language, and sometimes it's just frustrating to watch them; I only do because I enjoy the game and want to see more people experience it and relive it vicariously. It's very high on my list of favorite games. What sport do you find yourself best at? I wouldn't know; I haven't played any sports in years. I was pretty good at softball as a kid, though. Do you think makeup on guys is freaky or sexy? My opinion shouldn't matter; a man can wear makeup whenever he damn well pleases without worrying what others think. But anyway, I tend to find it attractive, especially if it's goth makeup. Have you ever been accused of a crime you did not commit? No. Do you like pickles? I love dill pickles. What was the craziest moment of your life? Probably just lying in that hospital bed following my OD, my mom and two best friends just sitting there with me. It was such a weird, weird feeling. Like I was just so done, frustrated beyond what I can say. I remember thinking it was almost funny, just how it all built up and went wrong. Where do you spend most of your time? In my room on my bed. What is your favorite muffin? Chocolate chip. Would you ever get a boob job? I already know when/if I lose the weight I want to, it will be kind of a big deal to me and my atrocious body image to get a breast lift. Being overweight ~does things~ you know, and god knows I want every trace of it that can be erased gone. Would you ever go on a reality TV dating show? That's a massive "no" from me, buddy. Would you rather be inside or outside? It depends on where I am and the temperature outside, but generally, inside. Do you like the current president? Well, I voted for him, so I can't shit-talk much. I don't know the true depths of him as a person and all he stands for, though; when I decided I needed to vote, I just did some research on his core values. I don't have any complaints yet, from what I've seen at least, which isn't a lot. Do you whiten your teeth? I've used whitening strips before, but I don't now because they're not that effective. If it's financially plausible at some point in my life, teeth whitening is another thing I want to have medically done because of my previous horrible self-care. My teeth have a clear yellow tint and I hate it. Do you get cold easily? No; it's actually the opposite: I get hot easily. What was the worst sickness you ever had? Probably this one stomach bug I had where I just threw up relentlessly. Like eventually barely even bile would come up; it was just dry heaving. My stomach muscles were in agony. Was your childhood wasted by something? No, thankfully. Would you rather die during an adventure or die like a normal person? A normal person. The idea of having such a sudden death stresses me out for multiple reasons; I mostly don't want my family to just be suddenly devastated, and I honestly want to come to peace with the fact I was dying. Like, find my life's own closure instead of just having it ripped away. Have your parents ever tried to commit suicide? Jesus, I sure hope not. Do you have a gag reflex? A very strong one. Do you ever fantasize about trying drugs? I've wondered before what the effects of weed would be like for me, but "fantasize" is definitely the wrong word. Would you rather have sex before you’re married or wait till marriage? It'd be up to my partner, honestly, because I'm fine with either. What is the nastiest dare you have ever committed? I never did dares because I thought they were stupid. Like I'm not gonna do dumb shit just to show you I can. Do you know anyone who has been raped? I think I might? Have you ever asked someone for a tampon? Yeah. Do you have any exes you can’t stand anymore? No. Are you more of a phone or a computer person? Computer. Do you prefer headphones or earbuds? Earbuds. Headphones are just big and clunky and in the way when you use a laptop in bed, plus they irritate my skin. I like how earbuds actually go in your ears for more direct hearing. Would you ever consider adopting a child with a severe mental illness? If I wanted children, no, because I don't think I'm capable to give a child like that adequate care, being so mentally ill myself. I wouldn't want to risk worsening their condition. Favorite thing to do with a significant other? Play games together, particularly cute multiplayer ones that are more about the experience of playing together versus getting past difficult obstacles and such. Like for example, one of my favorite memories with Jason is simply playing Little Big Planet together. Favorite ice cream topping? I don't like many toppings on my ice cream, but I do love melted hot fudge. First boyfriend/girlfriend’s name? Aaron. Do you support PETA? Considering they are incredibly self-righteous extremists, no. Do you believe in the Big Bang Theory? Well, I believe in some sort of "god" figure that created the universe, so I don't think so. A condensed ball of nothing exploding to create something so extravagant? It sounds pretty far-fetched to me. But then again, maybe that semblance of a "god" I believe in created the universe through that, idk. It doesn't really matter now, though, does it. What happened happened, I'm not very concerned with it. What insect can you not stand the site of? It's more so larvae that I can't stand the sight of, like maggots and stuff. They make me squirm. Do you like Doctor Who? I've only seen one or two episodes, so I can't say. Do you approve of gay marriage? Of course I do. I'm bisexual and would like to get married, so I might marry a woman. Are you into politics? I'm really not. Do you think the world is ending soon? Nah, even though it sure does feel like it sometimes. Ever been to a mosh pit? No, they don't seem very fun at all. Do you like to debate? NO. NO NO NO. Do you like the band System of a Down? Yeah, I do. Are you German? It's a big part of my heritage. Do your parents like your best friend? Yes. Who’s someone you can act your complete self around? Sara, 100%. She's the only person I feel entirely comfortable around when it comes to being myself. Do you believe in Friday the 13th? I don't believe in there being any supernatural power to it, no. Who is your favorite rapper? Eminem. What age is your youngest aunt? Uhhhh I have no idea. Do you like bowling? Sure, it's fun. Do you like roasting marshmallows on a bonfire? I do. What shows or characters scared you as a child? Ghostface from the Scream series was my worst fucking nightmare. I couldn't even see pictures of him without crying. The King Ramses guy from Courage the Cowardly Dog also gave me a number of nightmares. Something about the way he was animated was very unnatural and unnerving to me.

[dstudiouk]

Weekly Studio Spotlight - Sara Haslam

A fresh week means a fresh feature! Get those fanfares going... it’s Artist of The Week time. This week, we’re featuring Sara Haslam. A traditional artist based in the UK with a distinctively unique style that really separates her work from the rest. We loved getting to know Sara and her work this week, definitely one of our favourites! 

As you know by now, we interview our chosen artists each week with a fun Q&A about them and their work. If you’ve ever wondered what TV series our artists like to binge watch... carry on reading! 

What inspired you when growing up?

My Dad's cousin was an author/illustrator, and there was a book she illustrated that I really loved. So when I was little I always said that I wanted to be an author/illustrator too. I became less interested in the writing part as I got older, but stayed interested in illustration and art. I think I was also inspired by various cartoons and anime that I watched on TV, and I used to enjoy drawing some of those characters.

How did you start your art career? 

I studied art at A level, and then went on to study Computer Animation at university. After I graduated, I went back to a style of art that I first did at school – portraits drawn over torn brown paper. I put a few up for sale on eBay, in the hopes of making a bit of money whilst I looked for a “proper” job. To my surprise, people actually wanted to buy them! From there I did a few commissions, and then decided to start selling prints, so I set up shops on Etsy and a few other online retailers. It took a while to build up a momentum of sales, but it’s now reached a stage where I can make a consistent income from my art, which is amazing really. I never would have expected other people to want my artwork in their homes.

What’s your favourite piece you have created so far? 

I find it difficult to judge my own work, but there are a couple that come to mind. I think my John Lennon portrait might be the piece which is technically my best. I believe I managed to reach a decent level of realism, whilst not getting too carried away making sure every single hair was in the right place. I was particularly pleased with how the highlights on his hair turned out, and the level of detail around his eyes.

Another favourite is my “I May Destroy You” piece. It was quite a challenge for me because it was the first picture I’d drawn in colour marker pens rather than greyscale, and it was much smaller than I had worked previously. I surprised myself by drawing it in just a few days, and managing to get in all the tiny details on her face and clothing. It was really fun to draw something a bit different for a change.

What art tools could you not live without? 

A pencil! I use Copic marker pens for most of my work, so I could say those, but I think I could switch to another medium like acrylic paints or watercolour, and it wouldn't affect me too much. However without a simple pencil, I'm not sure if I would be able to create anything very good. I have to spend a long time sketching everything out before I go over it in pen. For what it's worth my preferred pencils to use are the cheap mechanical ones. Mechanical because they create a thin line which is easier to hide, and cheap because the fancy ones over-complicate things and always end up breaking.

What is your biggest challenge with your work? 

My biggest challenge is just getting into the right frame of mind to draw. I often have issues concentrating and can get quite restless, so I almost need to be exhausted before I can be productive. Consequently I get most of my work done in the early hours of the morning, once I eventually get into the zone. I’m also a bit of a perfectionist, which can make it difficult to actually put pen to paper incase I mess it up - you can't erase pen ink.

Who are your favourite musical artists?

This is tricky because it changes almost every week and I have so many favourites from different genres. Right now I would say Frank Ocean, The Beach Boys and Tame Impala are some of my favourites. I've only drawn Frank Ocean out of these 3 so far, so I should get working on the others!

If you could trade lives with someone for a day, who would you pick?

If I'm honest I wouldn’t like to be anyone famous, as I hate being in the spotlight. I think perhaps I would quite like to be either a professional snowboarder or a buddhist monk for the day. Or even just a normal person with a nice peaceful life on a mountain somewhere.

Other than art, what do you do to relax and unwind?

I do a quick yoga session every morning, which definitely helps me to relax. I try to meditate too, but it doesn’t happen very often and I’m not very good at it. I also love skating and snowboarding, and I go on a lot of long walks whilst listening to podcasts.

What was the last thing you watched or listened to on repeat?

I’m currently re-watching all 121 episodes of LOST, for what is I think the 5th time through.. A couple of those times have been because someone I lived with was watching it, but this time it’s only me watching so I have no excuses, I just really wanted to watch it again.

If you could give one piece of advice to another artist, what would you say to them?

The best advice I can give is to create as much art as often as you can, and not to worry about everything being perfect. (I need to take this advice too)

A massive thank-you to Sara for participating in this, we really loved her answers to these. Sooo much fun and such a fascinating look into turning a hobby into a full time career path. As always, thank-you to you, too, for reading and supporting! We’ve loved working on Artists of The Week, so do make sure to let us know you’re enjoying them too by sharing the love on our social platforms @dStudioUK and make sure you’ve checked out Sara on her platforms to see more of her incredible work! 

Sara Haslam - Instagram

Sara Haslam - Etsy