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thr-333 · 4 years

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Mismatch- Part 2

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Point? Plot? never heard of it! have some fluff instead!

First > Next

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First class was called for boarding, leaving the twins behind to wait for economy boarding. They could afford first class, but didn’t want to make a scene with the rest of the class. They are distracted from the window when Lila joins the first class line. When she reaches the desk the twins can’t hear her talking but can see her crocodile tears as she likely spins a tale of woe. There is a sense of satisfaction between them as after some back and forth Lila is sent away in a huff. She goes back to the class and starts complaining, causing them to miss the call for domestic boarding.

“Let’s go,” Marion shrugs his backpack on and they went to board before the rest of the class. He wasn't about to let Lila somehow steal their seats.

As they board the plane they walk past their friends in first class, some seats around them still having people late to board. With a wave they continue on reaching their seats and storing their backpacks under the seats.

“Marion, make sure your devices are in flight mode,” Marinette commands, as she pulls out her tablet.

“Sure thing,” Marion pulls out his laptop, making sure both that and his phone were on flight mode. Marinette double checking.

“It’s just not fair,” They hear Lila whine as she walks past them to her seat.

“I know girl, I know,” Alya is following, patting her back.

Marinette ignores them and pulls out the safety manual, studying the two pages with the same intensity she does as Ladybug. Marion turned to the built in seat screen and browsed through the movies. Marinette was likely the only one on the plane who paid attention during the safety demonstration. When the plane started moving Marinette grabbed onto Marion's hand. It was fine until the plane started to speed up, the grip getting tighter. When the plane lifted off Marion's hand was almost crushed with no magic ladybugs to save it.

“You know for a bug-”

“Nope, na-ah, not now,” Marinette grits through her teeth. Marion sighs and resigns to his hand being crushed.

Fine they had been in a bubble hundreds of meters above Paris looking straight down, but apparently that was nothing compared to a plane. When the seatbelt sign turned on Marion could swear in less than a minute Chloe magically appeared.

“Come on, there's spare seats near us, the people were a no show,” Chloe said, hands on hips.

“I don’t know Chloe, is that even allowed?” Marion asks, trying to pry his hand free.

“I’ll be fine,” Chloe waves him off, not answering the question. She looks at Marinette. “I’ll start jumping,”

“Let’s go!” She releases Marion’s hand and grabs her backpack. Marion shakes out his hand to get the blood flow back, then inspects the marked skin. He follows after them moving his fingers cautiously.

“Marion, your bag,” Chloe sighed, sending him running back to get it.

When Marion caught up they were already seated. Marinette, Kagami and Chloe were in a row of three by the window, while Adrien sat at the row in front. Marion climbed awkwardly over the person sitting at the aisle to reach the spare seat.

Adrien says a quick hello, not looking away from the window.

“It’s normal to be nervous on your first flight,” Kagami assures Marinette, not knowing wasn't her first flight. “Just breath, where would you prefer to sit?”

“Maybe somewhere out of reach of my hand,” Chloe speaks up, cradling her hand.

“It’s ok Marinette, I don’t really like planes either,” Adrien confesses, giving a weak smile over the seat.

“Well there we go you two should sit together,” Chloe dictates, “Come on Marion, up you get, you too Marinette,”

Chloe herds them out of their seats. Marion sheepishly apologises to the aisle person as they climb over them again. Marion sits at the Aisle now with Chloe at the window and Kagami in the middle. Marion peaks over the seats to see the two blushing messes. Marinette holding Adrien's hand, surely for no other reason than fear. It was effective either way as both seemed completely distracted by each other.

“Nice move,” Marion whispers to Chloe as he sits back down.

“I know, and as such I get to choose the movie,” Looking at the disposable headphones with disdain.

“We have our own screens,” Kagami points out.

“Then we’ll just have to start at the same time,” Chloe huffs, plugging the headphones in.

After a painful twenty minutes Chloe eventually settles on some romantic comedy Kagami and Marion had never seen which was ‘ridiculous’ and ‘unacceptable’.

“On my count, go,” Chloe presses play followed by Marion.

“That's not a count,” Kagami argues, the movie not playing.

“Of course it is,”

“You didn’t count,”

“That’s true,” Marion's screen lagging slightly behind Chloe.

“Fine,” Chloe rewinds back to the start, “One, two-”

“Wait I’m not ready!” Marion exclaims, struggling to rewind his. “Ok, now,”

“One, two, three” Chloe presses play, Kagami having pressed it a second before.

“Why?” Chloe hisses, as the screens play out of sync.

“You didn’t specify on or after three,” Kagami explains.

“After three!”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“Ugh, fine let's do it again, One, two-”

“Maybe we should do, ready, set go,” Marion interrupts, a grin on his face.

“No!” Chloe screeches.

“I think I should count,” Kagami interjects, straight faced. Marion isn't sure if she's serious or helping him mess with Chloe or not.

“No! I’m doing it and I’ll be counting,” Chloe seethes.

“Ok, ok,” Marion rewinds his screen,

“One, two-”

“So on or after three?”

“Ahhhhhh!”

After getting bored(being scared for his life) Marion finally lets them start the movie. That doesn't mean he’s done messing with Chloe, as he decides the comedy isn't comedic enough and has to make jokes throughout. Has to it is not his choice, the black cat beckons.

“Why would she not tell him that in the first place,” Kagami inquires.

“I don’t know, she just didn’t,” Chloe grumbles, keeping her eyes glued to the screen.

“It would have avoided a lot of problems,” Kagami decides.

“Well if you wanted needlessly complicated romance we’ve got front seats to the best one this century,” Marion smiles, adding, “And I’m not talking about the movie,”

At that they all stand to peek over seats at the two love birds leaning against each other asleep. Chloe snaps a photo leaning right over them to get the best angle. They all photobomb the background.

“We need to make a collage of all the times this has happened over the years,” Chloe sighs, showing them the photo.

“The piece of resistance will be them in their wedding outfits, sleeping after the reception,” Marion looks down at his phone to see Chloe had somehow sent him the picture, despite him looking at her phone the whole time, “Witchcraft,”

“They would, wouldn't they?” Chloe shakes her head.

“If they ever start dating,” Kagami mutters, also looking down to see Chloe had sent her the picture as well.

“Kags, the only ones that don’t know their dating is them,” Marion assures.

“Shush, this is the good part,” Chloe waves her hand at them, staring at the screen.

“It has a good part?” Marion asks, having to dodge the purse thrown at him.

They were halfway through the movie when Madame Bustier approached them, followed by Lila.

“Marion, what are you and Marinette doing up here?” She demands.

“The seats were spare so I told them too,” Chloe stops Marion before he can apologise.

“That doesn't mean you’re allowed to take them, you should have offered them to another student like Lila,” Madame Bustier reprimands, gesturing to Lila.

“If they can’t be here then neither can she,” Kagami grabs Lila’s wrist before she can shake Marinette awake.

“B-but my tinnitus!” Liela cries, Marion has to grab Kagami's other hand before she can place it over Lila’s mouth.

“Won’t be affected by where on the plane you sit,” Chloe glares.

“What do you know?” Lila sniffs, trying to shake Kagami's grip.

“Surprisingly, I actually researched it, unlike you,” Chloe spits out.

“How dare-”

“Excuse me,” A flight attendant approaches them, “is everything ok here?”

“No,” Liela turns on her crocodile tears pointing at the twins with her free hand. “These two are meant to be in economy, and I was told there were no spare seats in first class, they must of stolen someones seat!”

“Ridiculous,” Chloe huffs.

“Sir could I please see your ticket?” The flight attendant asks Marion. Marion freezes and stutters to explain, Lila looking smug.

“Right here,” Chloe fishes two boarding passes out of her purse and hands them over. The flight attendant inspects them, Marion giving them his passport before they ask.

“My apologies,” They tell Marion, handing back the passport and boarding pass, turning to Lila. “Miss these are their seats, I have to ask you to return to yours,”

“What!” Lila screeches.

“Miss I have to ask you to please be quiet, there are passengers sleeping,” The flight attendant is sterner now. Madame Bustier guides a complaining Liela away.

“Sorry for the confusion,” The flight attendant tells them.

“It’s fine,” Chloe has a vindictive smile on her face as she watches Lila storm off. When she turns around she sees Marion is smirking. “What?”

“You just happened to have two extra boarding passes, huh?”

“Of course, I wanted to have a row to myself, but you two looked so pouty when I left that I decided to give them to you,”

“Right, and they just happen to have our names on them?” Marion prodded, holding them out as proof.

“Uh, yeah? I couldn’t check in three times, I had to use your name,” Chloe snatches the boarding passes away.

“How did you even get our information to do that?” Marion asks, now genuinely confused.

“Anything is possible with money,”

“Foreboding… but true,” Marion considers, “Hey Chlo?”

“What?”

“Thanks,” Marion gives her the biggest smile possible.

“Whatever, you can thank me by letting me choose the next movie as well,” Chloe turns back to the screen.

“I’m not that grateful,” He has to doge her purse again.

Food comes part way through their second movie, that they let Chloe choose anyway. They gently shake Marinette and Adrien awake. Adrien groans at the thought of more food, but is too polite to turn it away.

“What is this slop?” Chloe asks, poking her fork at it like it might attack her.

“It's worse in economy,” Marion points out, eating his with only a small grimace.

“How is that meant to make me feel better?” Chloe sneeres.

“Because Lila and Sabrina are eating it now,” Marion smirks evilly, Chloe mirroring him.

“I’m still not eating it,” Chloe turns her nose up.

“You can have this,” Kagami hands over a container of assorted sushi. “I brought it, but it’s nothing compared to the sushi in Japan,”

“Thanks,” Chloe actually smiles, but would never admit to the slight blush dusting her cheeks. “Here Mari you can have this,” Chloe passes him the tray.

“Thanks Chlo, but I don’t like it either,” Marion pushes it back. Frustrating Kagami with all the reaching over her.

“At least take the cheese, I know you like that,” Chloe drops it on his tray.

“Wha- oh yeah, thanks,” Marion remembers Plagg, so he can't hand it back(not at all because he’s afraid of what Kagami will do if someone reaches across her again).

“You can have mine as well,” Kagami places the matching cheese neatly on top of Chloe’s.

“Do you want mine too?” Adrien asks reaching over the seat to hand it to him. “I don’t really like cheese,”

“Oh… thank you,” Marion says awkwardly, taking it.

“Here you can have mine as well,” Marinette reaches out, grinning over the seat. Marion glares at her, taking the cheese. She sticks out her tongue and sits back down.

When no one is looking Marion sneaks the cheese into his bag. He tries not to yelp as a few seconds later Plagg bites him. Marion excuses himself to the bathroom, taking his satchel.

“Plagg, what gives?” Marion asks, opening up his bag.

“What gives? you expect me to eat that trash? While Kaalki and Tikki eat a mountain of chocolate, are you so crule?” Plagg sticks his ‘nose’ up.

“It’s cheese,” Marion argues, picking up a piece.

“That is an insult to all of cheese,” Plagg points at the offending block.

“Too bad, it’s because of you everyone thinks I’m obsessed with cheese, so take some responsibility,”

“Never!”

“If you don’t eat it, I’m going to throw it out, so what's worse? Bad cheese, or wasted cheese?” Marion asks.

“Hmmmm…. Uhhhhhhh……. Ahhhhhh,” The Kwami looks like he’s in actual pain having to decide this, “.......... Fine!”

He stuffs the block into his mouth.

“Plagg you have to unwrap it first,” Plagg spends the rest of dinner pouting, as Tikki happily chomps on her Toblerone blocks with Kaalki.

After eating Marinette and Adrien decide to also try watching a movie together. They somehow take even longer to get it set up. Considering they can hardly use a full sentence around each other. Kagami eventually gets frustrated enough that she leans over and presses play for them. Marion, Chloe and Kagami finish watching their movie and decide to sleep the rest of the flight away. Chloe brings out her neck pillow and sleeping mask, seat reclined as far as it can go. Marion takes off the horse miraculous placing it carefully in the glasses case and then in his satchel. When he sits back up Chloe and Kagami are leaning against each other, apparently soundly asleep. Marion pretends he doesn't see both peeking at each other.

“Ah, to be the fifth wheel is a mighty achievement,” Marion whispers to himself, trying to disappear into his neck pillow.

Marion blearily wakes up to Kagami, Chloe and Adrien whispering. Marinette had fallen asleep again and was leaning against a blushing Adrien’s shoulder. He pretends he doesn't see this, reaching into his bag to grab the horse miraculous. He checks the flight path to see they only have two hours to go. Stretching as much as possible he chats with the others until Marinette wakes up over an hour later. They start talking about what they’ll do in Gotham, their excitement rising.

“There's an Akuma attack,” Chloe says looking down at her phone.

“What? how do you know?” Marinette shares a glance with Marion.

“Just got an alert,” Chloe gestures to her phone.

“It’s not in flight mode!” Marinette hisses.

“Of course not I-”

“Chloe put it in flight mode right now,” Marinette reprimands, as she climbs out of her seat with her bag, “I’m going to the bathroom,”

“... I’d better go check on her,” Marion declares, as Chloe turns her phone to flight mode, muttering that nothing happened.

He knocks on the bathroom door Marinette is in and is pulled in by Ladybug.

“Lets go, come on,” She says, bouncing in place.

“Plagg, Kaalki, Combine!” With a flash of light Marion is transformed, and with another they are off to Paris.

They have to be back in their seats for the descent that should be starting any minute now so they transport to the Akuma. Hoping they just run into Monsieur Rat. Instead they find a new Akuma, frustrating now having to find the akumatized object. They seemed to be a plant based, judging by the forest growing out of the sidewalk. Marion drops his transformation with the horse Miraculous, leaving regular Chat Noir. He passes a sugar cube to Kaalki telling the Kwami to stay put.

Ladybug charges in without him, trying to wrap her yo-yo around the Akumas tree like body. The Akuma breaks off the branches to get free, growing them back immediately. It sends out vines like whips, that the two dodge getting forced back. As Marion is forced back he trips over some moving roots getting sent sprawling back.

"Chat Noir," He hears a scared whisper to the side. Looking he sees a hand sticking out from under the roots and an eye peeking out from underneath.

"Don't worry," He gently takes the civilians hand, small enough to be a Childs, "me and Ladybug will save you,"

"Don't you mean Ladybug and I?"

"Never mind you can stay here," Chat teases, sticking his tongue out making the kid giggle.

He feels something wind around his leg. Looking down to see roots start to encircle it.

"Uh, Ladybug!" He tries to pull his legs free. Ladybug drops down next to him, helping him get free. He gives the kids hand one last squeeze before jumping to a roof with Ladybug.

"The civilians are trapped under the roots," Chat Noir reports.

"Inside as well," Marion looks out to see buildings cocooned in roots. "I freed some civilians, the Akuma went after them, you need to find it,"

Chat Noir nodded extending his baton to survey the surrounding area. He spots the Akuma from above, using his enhanced vision to study it.

"Chat!"

He looks down to see roots winding up his baton. He jumps off the top and is caught by Ladybug, as she swings them away. Marion looks back at his Baton to see roots circled around it like a tall tree without branches.

"Won't be using that for awhile," He muses, "Piggy back ride?"

"Yeah right," Ladybug snorts, "Wheres the Akuma?"

"That way," He points, "I noticed a poster hanging from one of the trees branches, it must be the akumatised object,"

"Alright lets go!" Ladybug drops down on a roof where the Akuma can't see them.

“Just stay calm, rushing isn’t going to help us here,” Chat Noir grabs her wrist pulling her back.

“You’re right Chat,” Ladybug takes a breath, “But that doesn't mean we can’t get a helping hand, lucky charm!”

"A ribbon? I think weed killer would have been more useful,"

"Very funny, I need you to tie this around the branch with the poster," Ladybug hands it to him.

"Got it,"

Marion jumps off the roof onto the trees branches. It screeches trying to grab him. Chat Noir summons his cataclysm destroying the branches that reach for him. While the tree is distracted severing the decaying branches Chat drops down to the branch with the poster, tying it around. The tree severs the branch as well, dropping it right into Ladybugs waiting arms. The trees branches wrap around Chat, giving Ladybug time to destroy the poster and purify the Akuma. Chat Noir is freed by the ladybugs, placing him back on the ground and returning his staff.

"Pound it,"

Kaalki comes out of hiding, Marion transforms before the press can delay them. He opens a portal right back into the stall. Detransforming and rushing back to their seats.

“Are you ok?” Kagami asked, as they buckle their seat belts.

“I will be once I get off this plane,” Marinette answers, Adrien offers his hand.

When they land they get to be the first ones off. They wait for the class. Madame Bustier does a headcount before they go through border security as a class, before moving on to pick up their bags. Alix and Kim ram their trolleys together as they wait for their bags to arrive. Madame Busier looked tired she didn't even try to stop them.

Chloe had to have her own trolley for her five bags, the rest managing to carry a single bag. The class headed for security separately. Marinette and Marion were stopped for a bag search because of a ‘concerned anonymous tip’ that they were bringing food in. No one else saw them get taken aside. The twins were thankful they left their vigilante costumes at home to be picked up later.

“And what's this?” The security guard asks, holding the polka dotted Miracle box.

“A jewellery box,” Marinette opens it up showing the miraculous. “Its a birthday present for our aunt who lives here,”

The guard nodded, not finding anything wrong. They sent them on their way, the rest of the class had made it through already. The twins walked outside, trying to spot their classmates or the bus.

‘Where are you?’ He texted Chloe

‘On the bus, you said you had another ride?’

‘No?!’

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years

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Can thy requesth a fic where the reader is sad and Sir Levi comforts them?😁

Hello my love and thank you for requesting this 👉🏻👈🏻 the format I chose was definitely inspired by @sasageyowrites and her amazingly heartbreaking story Crazier Things. This was quite the ride for me and I hope you like it, I intently made it open for interpretation so you can always ask for part two.

Summary: You, a former knight are helplessly in love with the Captain of the royal guard, Levi, who is about to go on a crusade and you write this cathartic letter to him to confess your love in case you never get to speak of your feelings in his presence.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: angst, fluff (depends on the way you interpret this)

Roses and Dragon embroidery

"My dearest Levi,

It's bold of me to ever call you that, my Captain, but this isn't any ordinary occasion, you can tell by reading everything I'm going to write below, by the way my writing isn't too formal.

I suppose I should start by mentioning fundamental things regarding this letter. I know it's going to be long and you don't have to read it's entirety if you don't feel up to it, but it'd be my honor if you did. There are things in here that come from my soul and they're meant to only be told to you. I couldn't force you into anything, but it'd be soul relieving if you spare a little time to know what I held in my chest for years.

It's a given. When you've received this letter, I'm most likely dead, or, rather exiled to the the underworld, slayed by the proud blade of a Marleyan knight, but you should know that in this war I've fought well. Or so I like to think. My injuries have caused my weakness and I loathe I couldn't follow you into this new crusade, but staying back has felt relieving and mending to my soul. Spare the Marleyan knight for killing me if you ever come across them; there's no wrong or right in this world, they only seeked justice for their nation by slaying innocent peasants, isn't that what we do on our crusades to their kingdom as well?

But my dearest captain, between everything that's right or wrong in this world I hate to say I don't know where I belong. You're an entirely different case, though. Bear with me as I'm saying those words, I know they're going to make you clutch the paper in your hands but please don't shatter it before I get to speak my mind. You are a bastard son to to a prostitute, an orphan, the former protegee of a man who worked against the knights of the round table and then single heartedly joined them. You were a thief. I know you were thief, I know as much as the next person but I don't think anyone ever understood what it's like to switch positions like that. In the span of a short period of time you were head of your own knights. Me, included.

You are probably wondering why I mentioned your past, it was only for me to highlight your current position as my Captain. And I'm sorry that with this letter I'm somewhat putting you into another position, one that may have you suffering.

Time to jump into the important thesis of this letter. I don't know where you are right now. I'm imagining though, you're sitting by your window, with your armor off of your angelic form, sighing at my words as the sun is setting for our kingdom. In this short life, sun has definitely set for me, for us. There are a thousand things I wanted to say, but never found the courage to. And I'm sad, Levi, I'm sad you have to know this way.

But today, today as in the day I write this letter, is a nice day. For me. (Y/n). We've just gotten back from washing our clothes by the riverside, I've just told you I'm mad that we don't spend much time together anymore now that I'm relieved of my duties as your knight and you hummed in response, greeting with my words with a soft expression on your face, and Levi, right now I think you're going to be the death of me. I can't help it. I keep imagining the way your lips shall taste upon mine and I'm hungry. I'm hungry like a wolf, captain, excuse my words, but it's the truth, I know I'm such a coward for not speaking them, but hiding behind death and my poor ability to write I've found some comfort as to sharing them with you.

Sir Levi, the most honorable knight, today I, while lathering your green undershirt in soap, almost told you I'm in love with you and that I want us to get married. Now that you know your surname, now that you officially belong in the Ackerman clan, now that you can legally marry someone, I'd like to consider getting married to me. Forgive me if I have mistaken what I have perceived as your affections. But you seem to look at me in a way that I haven't seen you look at anyone else. You spend your days with me when you're back from crusades, you write me letters to let me know about your well being.

Am I wrong for loving you? I'll never figure out. It's only that my heart pulls at its strings whenever I see you, my stomach turns and i feel as if I've been thrown from a catapult. I've never understood how you can do that to me. Can you? Have you felt this way about anyone? My mind will haunt me in my very last moments for not knowing an infinite answer. I don't think I'll ever feel released by this heartbreak, even after death. My only release is a fixation on the way you shiver your silvery orbs into mine.

And oh those eyes of yours. I wish you would look at me while holding my hands into yours under the moonlight, I wish you'd tell everything I've imagined you saying. I've never heard the word 'love' fall from your lips in such way so that I could know what it would sound like when you'd say it to me inside my head. But Levi, yes, once again it's a but, I wanted to spend a lifetime listening to it. I wanted for you to tell me how you love waking up next to me as we would hear the river flow beautifully in the distance. My heart is burning, Levi. I know, I'm sad and that I'm crying as I'm writing those words, but I've really dreamt of a future with you, have you felt that way about me?

Sir Levi, the knight who owns my hearth, I only set my pen down for an hour, to simply talk to you over a hot cup of tea, because you had just finished hanging out our clothes to dry and for the first time in my life I've felt as if my prayers have been heard.

You kissed me.

You put your lips against mine, suddenly, as I turned to you while the sun was setting and it was more than I could ever dream of Levi. And you comforted me in such ways I'll never do any justice to simply write into words. How can you be such a godsent angel? My lips are numb and fuzzy and my insides are fluttering, I still can't believe this happened. I can't believe you actually feel that way about me. Suddenly this letter isn't just the goodbye of an unrequited lover, it's so much more. Now I have a reason to fight my way back into the castle. Maybe, Historia would let me be a maiden, it'd be safer to live in the castle, rather on my own even if it means I'll serve as a slave to the queen. I couldn't care less about serving the crown in any way, but for you I'd do anything.

You promised me, with a rose you said you found by the riverside that you'll come back from the crusade, safe and sound and in return I promised I would stay safe as well. Maybe that's the way things should happen, right? I'll start embroidering you your green undershirt, excuse me for the time I'm going to keep it from you and pretend I don't know where it is.

I'll embroider your most favorite thing on it. A white dragon. Because you remind me of one. I'm biting my silly lips as I'm writing this, my Captain, but I can't wait for you to hold me in your arms. And I can't wait for you to slightly smile when you see what I'm going to make for you. I'm going to stop my mumbling now. I someday will give this to you, once you're back from the crusade in Marley.

Love, (y/n), the brat who doesn't know how to waste minimum soap while washing clothes effectively."

Taglist go off: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 @nobody-knows-anymore @berrijam @ackermans-freedom-inc @ladyofpandemonium @callmepromise @hawkssnugget @alrightberries am I forgetting anyone? Please inform if if you want to be tagged to my stories or if I have forgotten to tag you.

#levi x reader #levi Ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman #levi imagine #snk imagine #snk x reader #aot x reader #aot x you #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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petersasteria · 4 years

Text

Past is Past - Peter Parker AU

Pairing: Peter x Reader, Harry Osborn x Reader Requested? Nah. It based on one of @writing-prompt-s’ prompts. 2.5k words Warning/s: character death, confusion, a satisfied ending

PP Masterlist

Big thanks to my friend @croissantwriting for the help! She’s doing a little gift-giving this Christmas, so if you want a gift from a stranger who’s super nice and friendly, check it out!

* * * *

“She’s not getting any better, Mr. Parker. I’m afraid she’ll be going soon.” The doctor told Peter with no expression on their face. The doctor kept their face neutral, so that it wouldn’t be an issue for anyone. It was also protocol at the hospital.

The doctor excused themselves and left Peter standing alone in the cold hallway outside of his wife’s room. Peter couldn’t believe that he would lose the person he truly loved; he would lose her to cancer. ‘Fuck cancer.’ He thought. He wanted his wife to live long; to see their children grow up to be the people they’re meant to be. Alas, it was just wishful thinking.

You see, Peter was immortal. In a world where 2% of the population are born immortal, he was one of them. It could be anyone, really. One’s parents don’t have to be immortal for one to be immortal. They were just cursed that way. Being born immortal was God’s cruel way of letting people stay on Earth to be His stewards of creation for eternity. Whether they like it or not, if they were born immortal, they are immediately tied up and forced into the duty of being God’s steward.

The duty of being God’s steward felt wrong. It feels wrong to watch mortals move on with their lives while some get stuck, getting caught by the sorrow of this immortality that has been given upon them.

Peter had the saddest eyes for a long time, but it all changed when he met the love of his life. Peter has seen things; someone’s last breath, some more heart breaking scenarios, etc. But everything changed when she came into his life. She appeared as someone new... and well, unexpected. She was a great surprise, though. She gave Peter a brand new purpose, she gave him happiness. Every time Peter was with her, he would forget about his curse.

Peter’s eyes held sadness again and it broke his heart to know that he couldn’t do anything to save her; his one true love. His heart broke at the harsh reality that no matter what happens, he’ll eternally stay on Earth while he watches his loved ones pass on.

Gathering up his courage, Peter took a deep breath before entering her hospital room. He quietly entered her room and slowly shut the door behind him. He observed the sight in front of him: his wife slept peacefully with their youngest son next to her on the bed while their two older children were asleep on the couch.

He silently approached the bed and held his wife’s hand as he sat on the chair that was next to her bed. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. This caused her to stir awake and look at him with a small smile adoring her face.

“Peter.” She breathed.

“Hey there.” Peter said softly as tears clouded his vision. It pained him to see her like that; weak and fragile and ill. If only there was a cure for her cancer, he would’ve given it to her in a heartbeat.

“I love you, Peter. So much.” She whispered.

“I love you more than everything else.” Peter said as tears freely streamed down his rosy cheeks.

“Please remember that my love for you is eternal. I’ll look for you in the next life just so I can love you the way I love you now. I promise you that, Peter.” She smiled softly. Peter could only nod, not trusting his voice to speak.

That was their last moment together. She died in her sleep, her youngest cuddling up to her as Peter held her hand.

The moment life left her body, God took it and gave it to the baby girl of the woman giving birth at the same hospital on a different floor.

“Baby, wake up or you’ll be late on your first day.” The man’s voice whispered in her ear. “Y/N, seriously. It’s time to get up. I’ll have the car ready for you.”

Y/N groaned and rubbed the sleep off her eyes before stretching and sitting up. She slowly opened her eyes and the sight of her boyfriend of three years greeted her. She smiled at him and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning!” He smiled and leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead. “Breakfast is ready.” She hummed in response and got out of bed. Her boyfriend, Harry, led the way to the dining area and as soon as they arrived there, they sat down and ate their breakfast in peace.

Today was their first day in college and they decided it would be best to live together in an apartment near their university. Harry Osborn, Y/N’s boyfriend, was privileged and he was able to buy an apartment unit that suited his standards. After all, his girl deserved the best. Harry is kind and generous which surprised a lot of people considering his lifestyle. Y/N was truly lucky, but Harry claims that he’s the lucky one.

The couple parted their ways when they arrived at the university; both of them studying different courses. The rest of the day was alright. Nothing really significant happened and Y/N kept to herself most of the time. Only mingling when she’s supposed to. It wasn’t until her last subject when things started taking a turn.

Y/N sat at the back of the class and texted Harry as student after student came in the classroom. About ten minutes later, Y/N’s professor walked in.

Her professor was undeniably handsome. He had brown, curly hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short either. His height was just right. He looked like he was in his thirties and he had the brightest smile. Naturally, the girls in her class swooned over him which made her chuckle. While she would admit that her professor is handsome, her loyalty remained with Harry. He was her endgame and she was sure. They wouldn’t last long if he wasn’t.

“Hello, everyone! My name is Noah Parker and I’d let you guys call me by my nickname, but that would be unprofessional. So, Mr. Parker or sir would be really nice.” Noah smiled at everyone. He wasted no time in teaching.

“Welcome to history 101 and I’ll be your professor for the whole semester.” Noah smiled and grabbed a chalk to write something on the board. Seeing as the class is for three hours, Noah started with the first lesson.

It was obvious that Noah was passionate about history. Everyone listened and he made history fun. They did some ice breakers and a short group activity and a quick game before the class ended. Noah gave them their first assignment which was really easy and it would be passed two days from now.

The class was dismissed and everyone gathered their things and left. Y/N took her time and Noah was erasing the things he wrote on the board. Y/N approached him and cleared her throat, “Excuse me, Mr. Parker?”

Noah turned around with a smile, but it quickly faded when he saw her. He dropped the eraser as his jaw dropped, his gaze remaining on her. Y/N was confused, so she just picked up the eraser and put it on his desk to avoid Noah’s gaze.

Noah shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, it’s just- mom? Is that you?”

Now, it was definitely weird

“Excuse me?” Y/N chuckled awkwardly.

“I can’t believe it.” Noah said in amusement. “I thought dad was crazy, but he’s right! You’d be in the next life after all. Well, your next life. You and dad can be together again! This is so cool. Oh my god.” Noah rambled in excitement.

“I’m so confused right now.” Y/N confessed. “I’m no one else’s mom and I don’t know who your dad is and I’m definitely not getting back together with anyone because I have a boyfriend. You must be mistaken, sir.”

Noah cleared his throat and said, “Um, was there anything you needed before?”

“Oh, yes!” Y/N’s eyes lit up at the change of topic. It was her saving grace. “I have a question about the homework, actually.”

Y/N asked about the homework and Noah happily explained it to her once more. After that, she left Noah all alone in the classroom.

Since then, everything has been awkward between them. Noah informed his father, Peter Parker, about what happened and Peter wanted to see her; to see if it was true. Now, it was Noah’s mission to get you to meet Peter.

One day after class, Noah asked Y/N to stay behind. She awkwardly sat on the seat in front of his desk and Noah sat on his chair behind his desk.

“I would just like to apologize for my behavior last time.” Noah started. “Second of all, I must tell you that I have this weird connection to you. No matter how far I stay away from you, there’s a force pulling me closer to you. Lastly, if you won’t believe me before, you might believe me now.”

Noah took out his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He opened his gallery and clicked on the album full of photos from his childhood, most of them had his mom in it. He handed the phone to Y/N and she gasped at the sight of the photos.

It was like she was looking at a window to the past. The woman in the pictures looked similar to her; not completely alike. She returned the phone to her professor, Noah, and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Um, I don’t know what to say.” Y/N said.

“Could you maybe meet my dad? It would mean a lot to him. I told you about him and he wants to see you.” Noah pleaded.

“I find this really weird, to be honest.” Y/N said. “I don’t know anything you’re talking about and frankly, I’m not curious about my past life...sir.”

“I understand, but could you maybe reconsider? My dad would love it if you’d visit.” Noah pleaded. “If you meet my dad, I’ll give you extra credit. You kinda suck at this subject, no offense.”

“None taken.” She said as she thought about it. “What if someone becomes suspicious about my grades going up?”

“I’ll just say that it’s because of your extra work and just say that you’ve been studying a lot recently. So, does this mean that you’ll meet him?” Noah asked hopefully.

“Fine. Mainly because I need extra credit.” Y/N agreed. She wordlessly grabbed her things and left the room. Later that night, she received an email from Noah.

Noah Parker To Y/N Y/L/N

Good evening, Ms. Y/L/N!

My father would like to meet with you at my childhood home at 123 Hamilton Street, this Saturday at lunch time, 12 noon. Please confirm if you’re available at this time and if not, we can reschedule.

My personal phone number is: xxx-xxx-xxxxx. Please contact me there for more details.

All information will be kept between the two of us .

Thank you and stay safe!

Lo and behold, Y/N stood outside the Parker Residence. She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It didn’t take long for a young man to open the door. He looked similar to Noah, but he looked younger.

“Please come in.” The man said as he looked at her. She entered the home and the man led the way to the living room. Y/N made herself comfortable on the couch and the man who opened the door sat across from her.

“Um, I’m Y/N.” She smiled.

“I know.” The man said. “I’m Peter Parker and oh my god. It’s really you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relation to my professor, Noah Parker?” Y/N asked innocently.

“He’s my son.” Peter answered. “And you’re my wife.”

Y/N stared at him as Peter had happy tears streaming down his face, “We can finally be together again and we’ll be happier than ever! We could be a family.”

“I’m so confused. How can you be Mr. Parker father when you look like you’re twenty-three?!” Y/N shrieked.

“I’m immortal, honey. I stopped aging at twenty, but I’m still me! I love you and you love me. We can be together.”

“I’m so sorry, but I don’t know who you are and I can’t just start a life with someone I don’t know. If you think I can do that, then you’re sorely mistaken, sir.” Y/N said.

Peter shook his head, “But you said , on your deathbed, that you’d find me in another life. I’m here! We found each other. I don’t understand why you don’t want to stay. You said that your love for me is eternal and you’d love me the same way you did then. What happened? Why can’t we pick up where we left off?”

“With all due respect, if what you claim is right; if I’m your wife in the past, then I’m sorry I can’t be your wife in this life. I have my own things going on and I’m in a committed and happy relationship. I can’t leave him for you. Besides, you’re way older than I am despite your looks. I’m really sorry.” Y/N said softly.

“This is more heartbreaking than when we found out you had cancer.” Peter chuckled bitterly and nodded in understanding. “You may go now, Y/N. I’m sure your boyfriend would wonder where you are.”

Y/N stood up and walked to him to put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m really sorry, but I’d like to get to know you… as friends.”

Peter nodded, “Alright. That’s better than nothing.”

After that encounter with Peter, Y/N saw him a few times after that even after she graduated from college. She got a decent job and her friendship with Peter and the rest of the Parker family remained. Though they never saw each other after she got a job, they all remained in contact.

Y/N and Harry Osborn finally got married after being together for so long. The Parkers were invited to the wedding, but Peter never showed up. He was crestfallen upon finding out that the woman he loved was getting married to someone else.

A year later, Y/N and Harry welcomed their first born in the world. They have been graced with a son and the couple agreed that if they were going to have a son, Y/N would name him.

As she laid there with the newborn baby boy in her arms, she racked her brains for the perfect name. After thinking about it for a long time, a smile formed her mouth as she looked down at her son. They were alone in the room, her husband was buying some food outside. This moment was very soft and peaceful.

“I know what name to give you now.” Y/N whispered and kissed her son’s forehead. The door opened and revealed her husband with a paper bag with take-out in it.

“Have you thought of a name?” Harry asked quietly as he set the food down on the table.

“Yeah.” She nodded, sure of her decision.

“What’ll you name him?” Harry asked.

“Peter.” She smiled fondly at her son. “His name is Peter.”

* * * *

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @sandystoriess @heeeyitskay @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @yaya4302 @lil-mellow-bunbun @starlight-starks @swiftmind @alexx-stancati @sovereignparker @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @pearce14 @cherthegoddess @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerlovebot @supred12 @peterspidey @givebuckyhisplumsnow @beverlythrillz @slutforsr

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @allyz @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @fancyxparker @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @theonly1outof-a-billion @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess

#peter parker #peter parker one shots #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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robots-and-writing · 4 years

Text

The Road to Ruin (MTMTE Sunder part 3)

(TW: Needles, Surgery, blood, mind control, yandere, mentions of human experimentation)

Sunder left his beloved's room, human blood staining his hands. His room is directly beside it, and in the corner is a hole where he has a perfect, one way view of his dearest. Their set up is the same as last time, except this time a note is set on their chest. It's handwritten, in his scratchy yet legible handwriting.

"To my dearest most beloved little angel,

My dear, you've been out for a day after those nasty decepticons attacked us. I fended them off but they managed to injure you. I've dressed and bandaged your wounds and I will be back soon with some food and some clothes for you.

Your dearest Conjunx,

Sunder"

It was a messy letter, with a small bloodstain on the corner. But it would serve its purpose well. He checked his human supplies for anything he may be lacking. Blood transfusions ready to go in case of any injuries, water, food, and clothes. There was still more to get but the human would have to wait for them to arrive.

Sunder looked over to the altar dedicated to his beloved. Pictures of them adorned his walls, along with their name all over the walls written in energon. The altar had little keepsakes of them. One of their shirts he had stolen, a lock of their hair and a vial of their blood were his favorites. But his favorite thing of theirs? A recording. Taken without their knowledge back on earth, they had a lover there. They confessed under a tree to their old flame, and Sunder's spark broke in two at that moment. But one good thing came of that confession. A recording of his little angel, saying "I love you, more than anyone else. Despite your flaws and despite mine, we are meant to be."

Those words tasted like the most delicious memories, like the sweetest energon, and like the greatest victories. They repeated in his mind 24/7, and were what motivated him to continue on when it came to keeping as sane as he could be without them by his side.

But despite his best efforts, Sunder couldn't handle being without them. Seeing them with another person made his brain swim with thoughts of violence. He should use his powers to tear that wretched other human to shreds. But something made him stop himself.

What if my dear hates me?

Sunder wasn't exactly the friendliest looking cybertronian. Tall, broad and scary, with spikes and pointy bits sticking out of him, most humans would run away in terror. (Before being torn apart of course.) But after a few human experiments, his idea was made possible. Mnemosurgery works on humans. Not from a distance, that requires a brain module. But it could be done.

His first experiments were unsuccessful. Too many needles meant a full lobotomy and possibly making them brain dead. Too few needles and the results were more temporary and a much more thorough "coding" would be necessary. Some of them bleed out due to him accidentally hitting a major artery. Some starved as he didn't feed them right. And some couldn't handle being an experiment, so they threw themselves off the workbench onto the ground, committing suicide. It was a delicate balance.

At first he didn't want to alter his beloved too much. Just make them despise other humans. Then he realized that would just make them miserable. So then he wanted to make them like him. But that would be too easily undone. He had to go full in. Make him their guardian angel. Make him the only one they feel safe with. He is the only one they will ever love. He is what stops the universe from killing them.

Getting the human was a challenge. He could do it himself but that would run the risk of alerting the other Autobots to his presence and imprisoning him again. He could do something the humans called "Catfishing" but that requires patience. And that is not something he has ever had enough of. He finally settled on a bounty hunter. 10 million shanix, as long as not a hair on his precious human's head is harmed.

He got a ping from a famous bounty hunter. He had the human. "Rendezvous at the coordinates and bring the shanix." Sunder did, and the human was finally in his grasp. Kicking and scratching at his hand, they were a wild and untamed thing. Taking the human back to his ship he pet them gently on the head, far more gentle than he ever had been.

"Who are you? Why was I taken here? Are you going to kill me? I thought Autobots didn't harm us?" He only smiled.

"Are you even listening to me? I'd at least like to know if I'm going to die? Are you really just going to keep on petting me like some pet-"

"You're home now darling. And soon, you'll be whole. We're two sides of the same coin."

"Uh- WHAT? I have a partner, and I love them very much! Besides I don't even know who you are, now put me down before you break my arm or something?"

He deposited the human in a large glass enclosure, with a bed, sink and bathroom and a cup on the side of the sink.

"Is this... an enclosure? Am I a pet to you? Excuse me but I'm a person with a life to live, rent to pay, and a partner to love! I'm not for your sick entertainment!"

Sunder only looked at them with wonder and glee, like a kid on Christmas. He spoke in a spine-tingling, nerve-wracking voice, as if Satan himself was speaking through him.

"You my dear, are a unique creature. Small and insignificant in stature, yet bigger than anything in existence." His words did nothing to soothe them as he leaned in so close his eyes reflected their face like a mirror. "Humans are so short lived, yet manage to reek of sin. Even you! With your small head, and tiny little legs, you have managed to commit the worst atrocity of them all!"

"What did I do?"

"You promised yourself to someone other than me."

Sunder tilted his head in a way that was probably trying to get a better look at them but only brought tears of panic to their eyes.

"I don't- I don't understand! I don't think I deserve to die!"

"Kill you?" The confusion in his voice was true. Had his intent not come through clear with his words? "My dear! You are sorely mistaken. I am your Conjunx! Your other half! Or as humans put it, your husband?"

"HUSBAND!? Sir I hardly know you! And even if I did know you, I already have a boyfriend and I love him more than I will ever love you."

The hand Sunder had on the edge of the clear box the human turned to a fist, shards of glass bursting everywhere. It cut into the human and they hurriedly put their arms in front of themselves to protect their face.

"Now now. That walking pile of sin is far far away now. And there is nothing more you have to do with him."

"But-"

"You're bleeding darling. And while your blood would taste delicious, I can't afford to have you fall unconscious or worse."

Reaching for them with the hand that didn't have glass shards sticking out of it, he held them firmly in his hand and took them to a corner of the room that had medical supplies. Sunder pinned them to the table as they thrashed around with blood dripping everywhere. One limb at a time, he picked the pieces of glass out of them and dressed and bandaged the wounds. Judging by the screams of pain the human made, it stung terribly. Then Sunder moved them to the medical bed and strapped them to it and moved on to cleaning off their face. He patched them up with expert precision as they cried out hoping someone would rescue them.

"Hello? Anyone? Please, someone help me! This can't be happening to me!"

"You speak as if anyone will ever rescue you."

The human finally stopped moving and let Sunder work as his words set in. No one will ever come for them. No one will ever save them. Ever. Ever. Ever.

The human didn't even react anymore to the sting of the cleaning of their wounds. Nor when he set them in his hand, this time loosely and just sat there petting them with a look of wonder and some sick form of love. For once, his mouth was closed.

Sunder looked back on the next two days as a time where he had what he thought he always wanted, but had been in denial of one fundamental truth. Having his beloved is meaningless if he isn't their beloved. Sure they didn't resist his petting, or him telling them all about the last person he ate the memories of. But they never reacted. They only drank when he forced water in their mouth. His dearest didn't even eat and became lethargic and entirely nonresponsive. That's when he knew. It's time for you to be perfect.

That was also the day he realized he had been conned. He woke up and they were gone. All that was left of them was a fresh bloodstain where he had broken the glass a few days ago. The vent nearest to the glass box was open as well, meaning they had truly escaped. Sunder cursed himself and his oversight. But now he had a human to catch.

The first place he checked was his room. And sure enough, there was a stack of boxes the human must have climbed down and the door was open. They must be terrified. If they stayed with me they would be worry free. And they were terrified. Straining his audials, he heard a faint and distant whimpering from a hallway further down.

"Oh dear human, why do you feel the need to run?" He put his hand around the corner of the hallway, just to hear their muffled gasp. "With me, you will never feel any shame from your sinful memories, and you will have eternal happiness by my side."

Now backed into a corner, they stood strong and tall, looking him in the optics with nothing but pure revulsion at him.

"Sunder, eternal happiness by your side? How is that possible?" His hand dented the wall unconsciously. Their words hurt, but he was not surprised. "You tore my family to bits, kidnapped me and forgot to give me anything but water for 3 days! I could never be happy with you."

Yes. It's time now my dear. Now It's time for you to be perfect. He didn't bother trying to hide his smile as he reached his hand towards them. There was no trying to escape him now, they were cornered.

Back in the present, Sunder had been scrawling mortilus' name on the walls in the blood of his beloved. The walls had been written over multiple times, in both blood and energon which made his entire room smell of rust. He checked on the human one more time before going into recharge.

#heed the trigger warnings #mtmte #idw #mtmte sunder #maccadam #transformers #sunder #yandere #my writing

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years

Text

Quasi-Confession

Alastor visits @hiss-and-vinegar Sir Pentious in the boiler room and then shit hits the fans.

Listen. Some of y’all are following for the relationship drama, right? For the soap opera action? That good good telenovela shit? This is the thread you want to read. This is the thread you’ve been waiting for. It’s got what you want. It’s got what you crave. It’s got this:

Sir Pentious moves back, out of the way suddenly, staring at Alastor like he's a different person. Was this even possible? He.... "ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH ME, ALASSSTOR???"

Brace yourselves for an emotional roller coaster.

Sir Pentious

Local snake is waiting in the boiler room, which is still pretty difficult to navigate. Watch your head, you might bump it on a pipe or cable. Or some slab of metal. Sir Pentious has an easy time moving around in here, CLEARLY you are just clumsy. He's flicking about on his phone, sending another message to Alastor to let him know where he can be found.

He sends his usual tophat :3 emoji along with it.

Alastor

It’s mere seconds before Alastor replies with a “🎶 ✔️✔️✔️” and only a few more seconds after that before he’s arrived, knocking on the door before letting himself in with a cheery “Hello~!”

He COULD have just teleported straight into the room rather than in front of the door. But he remembers how that went for his double. He’s not risking it.

Sir Pentious

Ah! There's that familiar radio voice. Penny's head swivels towards the source and he leans back against a workbench, flicking his tongue as he waves to the deerman.

"GREETINGSSSS, ALASSSTOR! GIVE ME YOUR HAND! OH, AND, I WANT TO SSSSEEE THE MUG, AS WELL."

Alastor

"Of course!" He offers over the travel mug with stacked layers of unhappy sinners depicting the rings of hell printed around it. "All of Hell, just for you, as well deserved. And mercifully free of any sad excuses for watered-down tea."

Although he was briefly tempted to fill it with hot water and claim it was one-second tea.

“Left or right?” He holds out both hands anyway, Sir Pentious can take whichever one he wants. (Also check out that bling on his left wrist. He’s got that watch Sir Pentious stole for him.) “You know I’m always eager to lend a hand, but I didn’t think it was going to be so literal!”

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious reaches over to take the mug, purrrrring as he looks it over. It is absolutely just a travel mug, but it was an offering! He is going to put it on his workbench.

Oh, and he does notice that watch! A large toothy grin spreads upon his face, and he takes hold of Alastor's left hand. That's more common for rings, isn't it?

The ring from Valera is clearly visible on his own hand. It shines in the warmth of the boiler room's lights.

Sir Pentious adjusts those multiple lensed glasses of his to get more accurate measurements, careful yet at the same time, rough. He squeezed at finger joints and pinched skin... He could be taking measurements for all kinds of things at this rate.

"GOOD TO SSEE YOU'RE GETTING USE OUT OF THE WATCH, ALASSSTOR! HAS IT HELPED YOU?"

Alastor

He got a horrible rasping cobra purr! He'd steal every tacky gimmicky mug from every cheesy souvenir shop in Pentagram City if he thought they'd earn him more purrs. (He didn't *buy* the mug, obviously.)

“Yes indeed!” He’s enjoyed admiring it. And listening to it tick. Sometimes he even checks the time with it, although he’s generally got a razor sharp internal clock. A big help. “And quite a handsome accessory it’s made, too! But then I knew I could trust your sense of style.”

He tries not to get overly lost in the sensation of his hand being manipulated. Those were such PRECISE measurements... By this point he has no idea what in the world Sir Pentious needs these measurements for, but considering the quantity he’s taking... After a moment of hesitation, Alastor asks, “How precise do these measurements need to be? Would taking my glove off help?”

Sir Pentious

The question stirs him, and Pentious tilts his head in thought. "WELL, NO... I CAN BUILD ANYTHING *UPON* YOUR GLOVE." There's that grin again, "I'VE NEVER SEEN YOU WITHOUT THEM! IT WOULD BE *INVASIVE*, WOULD IT NOT?"

Alastor

What in the world is he building? Alastor’s current best guess is a weapon. Some kind of mechanical robot glove. Something that needs fairly precise but not skintight dimensions. “It would only be invasive if you *demanded.* I’m freely volunteering it! But, no, I wouldn’t take my gloves off around just anyone.”

Sir Pentious

Tongue flick. Once. Twice. Sir Pentious takes the other hand, checking for any inconsistencies.

"UNLESS YOUR HANDS ARE GROTESQUE IN SSSSOME WAY, I NEED NOT SSSEE THEM! MY CURIOUSSSITY ISS NOT PIQUED!"

Is it weird to offer that? He's going to think on it idly later.

Alastor

“They’re shockingly normal,” he reassures him. “So if your measurements don’t need to be that precise, there’s no need for it!”

He’s not quite sure if he’s disappointed or relieved. Relieved, probably. He said it wouldn’t be invasive, but in truth he would feel more than a little exposed with his ungloved hand in someone’s grip.

Sir Pentious

He finally seems to finish up, and Penny scribbles down all the measurements he'd taken, with a barely legible scrawl. This was not the writing he used for letters, this was definitely his engineering scrawl.

"THERE WE ARE!! ALL FINISHED!!" Prr prr prr prr, "WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO NOW?"

Alastor

He’s studying Sir Pentious’s handwriting off and on as he scribbles, until he stops writing and Alastor focuses directly on his face as he speaks.

Oh—happy sounds. Alastor automatically echoes them in pulses of static. “Well—a fine question! What’s there to do down here?” He glances around the boiler room... then settles his gaze on Sir Pentious’s throat. “How about you give me that bow tie you promised me weeks ago, hm?”

Sir Pentious

Oh the eyes on his neck get a squint out of him, but the words that follow are more reassuring.

"OH, THAT OLD THING? I'D NEARLY FORGOTTEN."

Luckily he kept a bunch of random things in his jacket, and he began to fish around for it, "YOU SURE ARE GOOD AT REMINDING ME ABOUT THINGSSSS THAT HAPPENED WEEKSSSS AGO, ALASSSTOR."

Alastor

He opens his mouth to snark back—something about *having a working memory*—before he realizes Sir Pentious is referring to Alastor’s referring to Broadway. His mouth shuts with a click of his teeth like a dial turning off. “Hm.”

Sir Pentious

He's right, Sir Pentious' working memory is generally tied to the immediacy and things that pissed him off. The serpent continues digging around before he retrieves his old bowtie, holding up the accessory and looking at the yellow pendent in the center. He holds it up as if he were dangling a piece of meat, "HERE YOU ARE, OLD CHAP. THISSS ISS WHAT YOU ARE SSSEEKING, ISS IT NOT?"

Alastor

He feels a little bit like a dog being prompted to beg for a morsel. “If that’s what you’re offering!” He holds out his hand, palm up, for Sir Pentious to drop the bow tie in. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that if he tries to grab it, Sir Pentious is going to jerk it back.

Sir Pentious

*He would be right because Penny is that bitch.* But instead he drops it down into Alastor's waiting hand, "I HAVEN'T WORN IT SINCE I REMOVED IT WHEN I PUT ON YOURS. BUT I HAVE KEPT IT WITH ME, SSO! SSTILL WARM. NYA HA!" That's a weird thing to say. He won't think on it anymore.

Alastor

Alastor won’t think on it either. Which is to say, he will think on it A WHOLE LOT, RIGHT NOW, just not on the implications of the fact that Sir Pentious felt the need to point it out.

He tugs off his current bow tie with a flourish and slides the new one in place. “I’ll have to start wearing a little yellow so it doesn’t look out of place.” As he ties the bow tie, he casts a critical gaze down at his red-on-red-with-red-trim outfit, looking for something he can switch out or somewhere he can accessorize.

Sir Pentious

He's wearing a lot of yellow and black himself, so the red bowtie does have a bit of an out of place look, but to Sir Pentious, it was the prize that mattered. He had something of Alastor's, and those who were in the know would be able to recognize that much. A symbol, a victory, perhaps. Spoils and all that.

"A LITTLE YELLOW WOULD SUIT NICELY! MIGHT I SUGGEST A BLACK COAT WITH YELLOW PINTRIPES? NOT THAT YOU COULD SSSTEAL MY LOOK IF YOU TRIED! YOU'D NEED MORE EYESSS FOR THAT."

Alastor

He’s not quite so bold to ask if Sir Pentious has any old coats he’s willing to hand off—although the thought crosses his mind. “Ha! And look like one of your minions? Not if you don’t plan on hiring me full time.” He finishes with the bow and drops his hands, tipping up his chin to show it off. “Am I straight?”

Sir Pentious

A SHARP laugh, and Sir Pentious gestures to Alastor fondly. "NOT AT *ALL.* BUT YES, YOU LOOK FINE!! VERY STRIKING."

Alastor

He blinks a moment as he tries to work out why he’s being laughed at; then huffs. All right, fair enough. “Good to hear!” He stows away his recently-removed bow tie in the collection he’s been carrying around in his pocket.

Sir Pentious

What a shit eating grin from Pentious, who leans in suddenly VERY close to Alastor, much larger than the twig of a man.

"YOU MAKE IT SSOUND LIKE YOU'D ENJOY WORKING FOR ME! BEING BOSSED BY BETTERSSS? NYA HAHA, I MEAN THAT *AFFECTIONATELY*, OF COURSE. YOU'RE NO SSSTRATEGIST."

Alastor

He doesn’t lean back an inch. He just tips his head back, smiling up at Sir Pentious. “I don’t have betters.” And for a moment, his smile is very menacing. There are ways of teasing he’s fine with. That’s not one of them.

But the moment passes. It was, after all, intended affectionately. “However, I also don’t have ambitions! Not any more glamorous than entertaining myself. And I won’t lie, I’ve never found better entertainment than assisting with someone else’s grand ambitions. The drama! The pathos! It’s why I’m here, after all!” He gestures vaguely above them, indicating the hotel.

Sir Pentious

While others might realize their teasing fell flat, Sir Pentious remained in that competitive space, looking over The Radio Demon's wide, dangerous grin. He was no stranger to danger, not at all. Though Alastor did not consider him a rival, Sir Pentious couldn't help the sheer thrill he felt from the possibility of the two at one another's throats. Part of being in Hell, you know.

He follows Alastor's vague gesturing and makes a face, "YES, WELL, EVERYBODY KNOWS YOU DON'T ACTUALLY *CARE* ABOUT THE BETTERMENT OF *SSS*SINNERS. YOU ARE ALWAYS IN IT FOR YOUR OWN ENTERTAINMENT. BUT IF YOU WORK FOR ME, A MAN OF YOUR POWER, I WOULD PREFER IT IF YOU *DID* CARE ABOUT WHAT I AM TRYING TO DO!" Though he doesn't get too uppity about it, preferring instead to adjust his bowtie, "YOU'VE PUT IN A LOT OF EFFORT TO HELP ME WITH MY AIRSHIP, SO, I SHOULD HOPE IT ISSSSN'T A LONG CONFUSING GAME."

Alastor

A game? At that, Alastor draws back a little. He still thinks—? Well, of course, still. Of course still. It’s only been a few months. He’s going to be proving himself for years. He’s going to be proving himself for DECADES. “Oh, I get most of my entertainment from schadenfreude, that much is true—but with the hotel, I’m hoping to get my schadenfreude by watching it crash and burn. Around YOU, I get my schadenfreude from all the people you’ll be crushing on the way up.” A dark smile—almost a conspiratorial one, as if they’re discussing secret plans rather than goals that Sir Pentious regularly announces at top volume. “There’s very little interesting about man challenging the devil and losing—it’s what everyone expects, isn’t it? It’s the inevitable, the status quo. I can watch an overlord fail at that any day of the week. But man OVERTHROWING the devil—a mere mortal, rising up from the mud, becoming something greater than one of the very celestial powers that govern the universe—now THAT, that IS a show worth seeing! I want to see hubris rewarded!”

His eyes are glowing brighter as he leans closer to Sir Pentious. “And all of us who are so strong because of our postmortem superpowers, we dealmakers and bargainers—I don’t think any of us stand a chance. We’re just borrowing a measure of the power of infernal demons and fallen angels. A moon can’t outshine the sun whose light it’s reflecting. The only one who can do it must be a master of the one completely human power of creation: invention. It’s you or nobody. And ‘nobody’ is a terribly boring story.”

Sir Pentious

Their faces are practically together, these weird old men. His hood floops outward, and he stares at Alastor with all of his glowing red eyes. Menacing man. Sir Pentious cannot hold back the shrill cackle of glee that escapes his throat. "OF COURSE, YOU ARE CORRECT, ALASSSTOR! I BROUGHT INNOVATION TO THIS INFERNAL CESSPOOL-- EVERYTHING THAT I HAVE, THAT I AM, I BUILT IT MYSSSSELF, I WORKED FOR IT!!! THEY WILL ALL REGRET LAUGHING AT ME ONCE MY FACE IS *EVERYWHERE.*"

He loved to be praised, so much. Look at him preening again, it gave color to his patterns and his ego hungered for more. Power coursed through his veins at the mere thought of being better than everyone else. His blood would taste sweet with ambition.

Alastor

“If one knows where to look, in one way or another your influence is visible in every building down here. You’ve already shaped Hell! Anyone who doesn’t recognize that is an idiot!” And that kind of technological prowess MATTERS to Alastor, whatever the TV/satellite/computer/Internet bozos think to the contrary. He lived a life on the technological cutting edge. “Once your face is everywhere, if you command it, they won’t be AROUND to regret it anymore.”

And oh, he can’t wait to see it.

In the meantime, seeing Sir Pentious with his ego freshly fluffed is nearly as good a sight. For a moment Alastor swears Sir Pentious looks more *vivid.* Alastor has to force himself to lean back before he does something stupid.

Sir Pentious

He's polishing his talons on his suit, then admiring them as if they were freshly painted. Sir Pentious *purrs*, looking over to Alastor without turning his head, and all of his eyes follow suit.

"MM. YOU KNOW JUSSST WHAT TO SSSAY. I'VE MISSED HAVING YOU AROUND, MY FRIEND."

Alastor

“I’ve missed *being* around.” There’s an edge of desperation to his tone before he reels it back in. Professional charismatic radio host voice. “Everyone else down here is so boring. You can’t imagine!”

Sir Pentious

"HA!" He wiggles his talons as he begins to slither around, over and under various pipes and cables, maneuvering his lengthy body with ease and fluidity. "OH, I ASSURE YOU, I CAN! I HAVE BEEN HERE MUCH LONGER THAN YOU, ALASSSTOR. THERE WAS A TIME I USED TO BE EAGER TO ENCOUNTER NEW ARRIVALS, TO SSSEE HOW THE WORLD HAD CHANGED AS TIME WENT ON, BUT THEY BECAME SSO MUCH MORE **BORING**. TRUE CLASS AND SSTYLE HASS BEEN LOSST TO THE LIVING WORLD, YOU UNDERSTAND."

Alastor

"True enough! Everything's so... *cheap* these days." He watches Sir Pentious slither around. "Somebody's got to show these sinners some proper class and style. And if you want something done right..."

Sir Pentious

Glowing eyes in shadows, anywhere that's not lit up by the extra lights Sir Pentious has added. It's a stark contrast from light to shadow, and he beams, coming up behind Alastor, though carefully. He doesn't touch him, "YOU NEED ONLY LOOK TO SSSIR PENTIOUS! HA!!"

Alastor

He glances back over his shoulder without turning, beaming back just as brightly. "And truer words were never said."

Sir Pentious

Just two guys being dudes.

"ALASSSTOR, IT REALLY IS INTERESTING THAT YOU DON'T WANT *MORE.* YOU REALLY COULD HAVE IT ALL... OH, BUT THEN WE REALLY WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO CHAT LIKE THIS, EH? WHAT A SHAME! CAN'T HAVE THAT."

Alastor

“Can’t have that!” He turns to lean back against a table so he can see Sir Pentious directly again. “I COULD, but I don’t WANT it all. I’m an entertainer, not a... a mad scientist warrior king. YOU could have a stupendous career as a circus contortionist, but I doubt you’d be any more content with that than I would be stuck on a throne making tedious decisions about infernal infrastructure and Hellish cabinet posts. I don’t want subjects—I want an audience.”

His smile twitches toward a grimace. He mutters, “I wouldn’t mind more of *that*—but I certainly wouldn’t get it as a conqueror.”

Sir Pentious

"WELL, I COULD GET YOU AN AUDIENCE! ONCE I'VE TAKEN THIS EMPIRE FOR MYSELF, THERE SHALL NOT BE ANY EMPTY SEATS TO WORRY ABOUT!" He beams, spreading out his arms, "AND THEN! OH, WELL, WE'D HAVE TO CHANGE THINGS UP EVERY FEW YEARS, SO IT DOESN'T BECOME BORING."

Alastor

"Would you?" Alastor brightens again. "I mean, I know you COULD do that, no doubt there—but would you really?"

Sir Pentious

Look at him smiling. He's smiling so much at Alastor. "WHY, OF COURSE! IF WE ARE WORKING *TOGETHER*, THEN I HAVE NO ISSUE WITH THAT. IT WILL BE *FUN* WATCHING WHATEVER YOU DO TO THEM!"

He flicks his talons this way and that, slithering through the pipe maze again. *Enrichment.*

Alastor

His eyes glitter at the thought of it. A captive audience, provided by no less a personage than the ruler of Hell. True, he’d rather his audience listen to him out of adoration rather than fear—he’s an entertainer, after all!—but they can work out the details later. He was adored before. All he needs is to be listened to again, to be given a chance to prove himself, and he’ll be adored again. He’s sure of it.

“I’m counting that as a promise!” Oh, he’s excited just as the THOUGHT of it. He taps a foot on the floor as some bouncy Harlem stride plays in the background under his words. “If you’re irritated now at me for remembering things you did weeks ago, you’re going to hate me when I remind you about this promise in a few years! Ha!”

Sir Pentious

A cackle from the rafters as Sir Pentious slithers around up there.. He finally hangs upside down in front of Alastor with that large familiar grin.

"OH, I AM CERTAIN I WON'T HEAR THE END OF IT! BUT I CANNOT IGNORE THAT YOU HAVE *HELPED* ME. I DISLIKE BEING INDEBTED TO ANYONE, BUT I CANNOT PRETEND OTHERWISE!"

He tips his hat, which is miraculously staying on his head.

"I DO NOT SHAKE HANDS WITH YOU, BUT I COULD PUT IT IN WRITING."

Alastor

“Oh, that’s entirely unnecessary!” Pause. “But I’d love it if you did!” He scoops up the nearest blank-looking piece of paper and a pen, steps sideways into an unexpectedly large shadow, and somehow emerges from it next to Sir Pentious, standing upside-down on the ceiling next to him. “So it’s to be a formal agreement, then, is it!”

He looks all dramatic standing there upside-down for a grand total of three seconds, before his clothing remembers gravity and the tail of his coat fwoofs down to dangle around his head.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious watches him standing upside down, and he smirks, waving a dismissive hand. "A *PROPER* CONTRACT, ALASSSTOR. I AM A BUSINESSMAN! NO BLANK PAPERSSS HERE. I DIDN'T RUN MY FACTORIESSSS ON BLANK PAPERSSS."

Alastor

“Well, you need a blank paper in order to write the contract on it, don’t you?” He offers over the paper and pen, go on.

Sir Pentious

"I CAN'T WRITE THAT *HERE*, AL! WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR??" He huffs, "I WON'T FORGET, AND IF I DO, YOU WILL REMIND ME!"

Alastor

"Not if you're going to get on my case about reminding you." He drops the pen and paper. The paper flutters slowly down to the ground. "It was a nice sentiment, all the same."

Sir Pentious

Oh look at Alastor getting huffy. Sir Pentious frowns, slithering down to retrieve the paper and pen, "DON'T THROW A *FIT*, I AM NOT GETTING ON YOUR *CASE.* I SAID WHAT I MEANT! YOU WILL REMIND ME, I AM COUNTING ON YOU."

Alastor

Only very lightly huffy; and more for the drama of it than anything else. Still, the idea of being *counted on* makes him perk up. Doesn't that sound all official.

He melts back into the shadows to reappear again next to Sir Pentious. "Then I guess I'll just have to pester you about it sometime!"

Sir Pentious

"YESSS, THAT ISS THE POINT. I HAVE A LOT OF THINGSS TO KEEP TRACK OF. ONCE I AM PROPERLY IN MY AIRSHIP, AND IT ISS OFF THE GROUND, I WILL SET UP THE CONTRACT AND TYPE IT UP ALL NICE. SCRIBBLING IT DOWN ON SSOME BLANK PAPER HARDLY BEFITSSS A HELLISH GENTLEMAN SSUCH AS MYSELF." He gestures to Alastor's suit, "YOU MIGHT ENJOY A PATCHWORK SSTYLE, BUT I DO NOT! NONE OF THAT 'MAKE DO' ATTITUDE, SSSIR."

Alastor

"I happen to like handwritten legal documents! It makes them feel important. Like the Declaration of Independence." He pauses and thinks that over. "That doesn't carry much weight with you, does it? All right, typewritten it is! But I expect to see a draft before you ask me to sign. I have to make sure the terms are equitable, after all."

Sir Pentious

He leans all close to Alastor again.

"OH? EQUITABLE HOW SSSSO? WORRIED I'LL SSSIGN YOU INTO FORCED LABOR, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

"Worried you'll let me off too easy," he says dryly. "What if you do something like say you're going to do this big favor for me on the basis of our current friendship and my prior services rendered? What about future services? What if I never do anything else for you ever again, but this contract still holds you to helping me out? No no no, I won't stand for it! You're offering me an enormous favor, my friend, and I intend to earn it properly!"

Sir Pentious

... Oh. Usually people were expecting Sir Pentious to be the one to pull the rug out from others--this was something he... Somehow didn't see coming at all! Alastor wanted to make sure that he was held to the right standards. Don't mind Sir Pentious, he's just going to be having Feelings over here, looking away. Friend...

"YES, WELL. GOOD! THEN. IT WOULD BE A BIG MISSSSTAKE TO TRY TO MAKE ME LOOK THE FOOL, ALASSSTOR!"

Alastor

"I wouldn't dream of it!" He hesitates; then decides, well, all right, as long as he's saying friendly things already—and knowing Sir Pentious keeps asking for directness—

"Truth be told," he says, casually examining his claws like he's only half paying attention to what he says, "if I ever offered to shake with you on something—and I know you've already said you'll never shake with me, that's fine, but IF I did—that's what would be on the line. No souls. Just an unbreakable guarantee that I can't—betray you." He leaves off the *again* and adds a shrug, like it's no big deal. "I don't think you'll ever want to shake even under those conditions. But, all the same, I thought I'd let you know! Since you keep bringing it up like you think I'm just waiting for some clever opportunity to trick you out of your soul!"

Sir Pentious

There's a sound in his ears, like *ringing.* Sir Pentious could swear he could feel his heart pounding in his ears but only briefly. What was *that* sensation? Generally, he felt aches in his chest like that with Valera when she said something *particularly* caring...but this was Alastor. This was probably just another example of a good friend, and what good friends do. Good friends don't betray one another! Yes, of course.

But he couldn't let it go that easily, his brow creased as he looked the deerman all over. "*WHY?*" It was extremely likely that this Alastor had betrayed the Pentious of his own Hell before. Penny was certain every Al was guilty of that at this point... But why try SO hard? Why be so afraid of angering him? Could guilt alone be such a driving force? It felt like there was a very obvious piece of a puzzle missing to him.

"WHY ARE YOU... WHY DO YOU CARE *SO* MUCH?"

Alastor

"Because you're thirty-three percent of my circle of friends—and the only one of them I viciously, violently backstabbed!" He laughs shortly, and his stomach twists and churns as they delve back into that topic that he always feels lurking just under everything they say.

"I don't know how bad things went in your universe, but here—I... it's no exaggeration to say you might well have been ruling Pentagram City by now—maybe more—if not for me. And if we're going to be friends again, we—I know you still don't trust me fully. You can't. You shouldn't! *I* know I'm not going to betray you again, but am I just supposed to say 'take my word for it'?

"On the other hand, a bargain that means I can't betray you is *cheap* for me—in fact, it's *absolutely free*—because all I'm doing is promising not to do something I wasn't going to do anyway! But for you, why—it would give you a little reassurance without your needing to trust me a lick more! And if it costs me nothing but gives you that much... Speaking as a professional dealmaker, that's a bargain if I've ever heard one."

Sir Pentious

Well, that settled that, didn't it! For friendship. Alastor said it himself! And he made quite a big deal (pardon the pun) of it too. He always talked so much, you'd hardly want for a conversation with him around.

.... Except. That feeling gave Sir Pentious some *concern*. It was still lingering, not as strongly but it was there. He's thinking over something the talkative deerman had said...

".... NOT *ME.* I WAS BETRAYED, YES, AN ALASTOR BETRAYED A SIR PENTIOUS, INDEED.... BUT IT WASN'T *ME*." That was something that had always stuck around, lingered in the pit of his own long intestines. The serpent wrung his hands together, unconscious of his own idle fidgeting.

"IF THE ONLY REASON WE ARE FRIENDSSSS ISSS BECAUSE OF *RESIDUAL* GUILT, ISSNT THAT BOUND TO FAIL, TOO?"

Alastor

He shrugs and nods, granted, yes; they’ve both been content to treat each other as substitutes, even though each knows the other is different. Haven’t they?

But he doesn’t get a chance to address that before a question demands his full attention. “*No!*” The question horrifies him enough that he takes a step closer to Sir Pentious, hands half raised, like he’s bracing to try to stop him from swinging around a knife. “No no no, I—w—if I was motivated by avoiding guilt, then I’d be avoiding *you!* I’ve felt more guilt in the last two months than I have in the last twenty years! No. We’re friends because I *want* your friendship.”

He lets out a rattled laugh. “And you can see how well I’m proving that! I try to reassure you, it makes you worry about something else, now I have to re-reassure you.” He gestures between the two of them. “*This* is why I’m trying so hard. Because I can’t quite get it right yet.” He holds up a finger. “*Yet.*”

Sir Pentious

He's startled by the other's sudden movement, and his hood opens up. Alastor's insistence, that earnest way of speaking. It made that feeling even *stronger.*

He almost expected Alastor to grab his hand, but that didn't happen. Sir Pentious rubbed at his arm.... He's feeling guilty, too. For being so paranoid, skeptical. *Afraid.* It was a lot to think about.

"YET..." He looks away. "... I. AM SORRY, THAT I AM. LIKE THIS."

Alastor

Alastor blinks, then leans back against a work table again. Taking in the apology, turning it over in his mind. It feels like needles lining the inside of his ribs, stabbing when he tries to inhale. “For—for what, a little healthy suspicion? I didn’t get you and you didn’t get got by me, but—your suspicion is more than justified. I don’t hold it against you.” The corner of his mouth twitches weakly. “I’m amazed you’re giving me a chance at all.”

Sir Pentious

A little healthy suspicion? Sir Pentious makes a face, digging his talons into his arm further, scratching now.

"IT *ISN'T* HEALTHY, THOUGH. IS IT." This was a.... Decidedly more vulnerable topic, but this was the boiler room. No one came down here anymore, not since Penny set up shop.

"I AM NOT HEALTHY, NOT IN THE LEAST."

Alastor

Alastor tenses as he sees Sir Pentious’s talons tighten on his arm. He wants to reach out. Instead he just grips the edge of the table with both hands, claws digging into the bottom of it.

“If I were the one in your sh...” No shoes. “... If I were standing where you are? I would never so much as *speak* to a Radio Demon again. No matter what dimension he’s from or what promises he makes. So... I know you've said your mind is unhealthy, but *that suspicion*, I don’t think *that's* unhealthy.” He leans a little closer, not quite getting off the table. “If *you* think it is, I won’t know how unless you tell me.”

(He’s dimly aware that the radio distortion modulating his voice has been ebbing and flowing like waves on a beach—but like the tide going out, steadily declining. He can’t remember the last time he spoke so plainly for more than a sentence or two.)

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious doesn't lean back this time, but he's scrunching up more. His skull is *abuzz* with activity, and what feels like pressure on his brain.

".... YOU WOULDN'T, AND YET, WHEN I BECOME SSSO SSSKEPTICAL, I CAN... *FEEL* LIKE I'VE FAILED. IT TURNSSS ME AGAINSSSST THE ONES I." Love. "THE ONES THAT ARE IMPORTANT TO ME. AND I." Lose them.

He can't even finish his sentence, dragging his talons down his arm, a grounding technique that was more self punishing than helpful.

Alastor

Alastor automatically guesses what the first word left unsaid is. His heart leaps into his throat. He swallows it back down; the word isn’t meant for him.

He can’t watch that clawing anymore. “Maybe I can’t help—I think I’d make a poor alienist—and I can’t speak for everyone else important to you” (he feels daring just including himself on that list) “but, for what it’s worth... I’m hard to break and harder to scare off.” He’s gonna. Just. Carefully reach out, and put a hand on Sir Pentious’s wrist. Hi, can he take that? He’ll even let Sir Pentious claw up his arm instead if he wants. It’s fine if not, he’ll just wait and see.

Sir Pentious

The second his wrist is taken, Sir Pentious' eyes widen *considerably.* There's that rush in his chest, a dull *aching.* The puzzle piece was just out of reach, he could *feel* it.

He doesn't even fight it, even as his mind screams at him, *you failure, you absolute failure, look at you! Might as well offer your neck for the chopping block, you miserable failure.* He *winces*, though it isn't at Alastor. Stressed out tongue flicks, he's having a hard time maintaining eye contact.

".... YOU. PROMISE. YOU HAVE TO *PROMISE* ME THAT YOU WILL NOT... LEAVE." With every second that passes, it is like an eternity of ache in his chest. Similar to when Valera held his hands, rubbed them and spoke to him so softly. Grounding him.

Alastor

Alastor flinches when Sir Pentious winces, but Sir Pentious isn't pulling back, so Alastor isn't either.

"I promise." His voice is so blatantly, embarrassingly human. "I promise that I won't leave." He'd seal it in magic if Sir Pentious would let him. Instead, he just squeezes a little more firmly. "I'm your friend and your ally. I promise."

Sir Pentious

*But why?*

Why did Valera have so much patience? Why did Alastor not hate him? By all rights, he should infuriate them, but instead, they always reached out to him...!

... His eyes snap open wider than ever, and he feels like the last puzzle piece slips into place.

"ALASSSTOR. ARE YOU...?" OH, boy. He wants to be wrong, right now, more than ever, he wants to be wrong. If he *isn't* wrong, then... All of those moments, all of those playful snuggles and schemes.... Well they weren't just friendly, were they?

He's looking very pale, suddenly, a grit teeth sort of look. He's realized it. The reason why he stuck around was the same as a Valera's.

*Love.*

Alastor

Something went wrong. He can see it. "What?" What did he do? What did he say? Was it—?

Is his hand too close to Sir Pentious's? He jerks his hand back. "Sorry! I'm sorry, that was—It's a unilateral promise, not a bargain, I wasn't trying to shake on it."

In his heart he knows that's not the problem. But he can't see what the problem is—unless it's the worst.

He hopes it's not the worst.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious moves back, out of the way suddenly, staring at Alastor like he's a different person.

Was this even *possible?* He.... "ARE YOU IN *LOVE* WITH ME, ALASSSTOR???" Even if the deer said no, Pentious wasn't sure he'd believe him this time. Everything they did together, the way Alastor had warmed up to him, sooner than most others ever would consider...!

He liked him *like that.* And Sir Pentious, lonely Sir Pentious, had never questioned it.

Alastor

His stomach lurches. What did he say wrong? What pushed it over the line? He tries to deny it but all that squeezes out of his throat is static. After months spent trying to reassure Sir Pentious that he DOES value him, that he IS his friend, that he would NEVER betray him again... denying the accusation now would be too much a rejection of everything he's tried to prove.

He sinks down on a bench. He didn't say anything wrong. He said what Sir Pentious needed to hear him say. This was unavoidable.

He tries to give the same response he did to Valera—*no, I'm not; just with someone who looks the same*—but words catch in his throat as he suddenly realizes they're not true anymore. He knows this Sir Pentious too well to still see him the same as his own; but that's done nothing to break his fever. *Damn it.* He twists his hands together and stares down at them, defeated.

Just a few minutes ago, they were...

But Sir Pentious is never going to touch his hands like that again.

Sir Pentious

Of all the things Sir Pentious had expected to come out of this meeting, he couldn't have predicted that Alastor, the Radio Demon, was in love with him. This explained *everything...* Eager for friendship? Wanting so desperately to be around him, to not anger him, to spend as much time as possible?

Love was the *only* answer that made sense. Friendship was difficult enough with the serpent, but love! Oh, this was so much to process. He could only stare down at the deerman. For once, for *once* in his entire unlife, he'd never seen the other so *silent.* Unable to speak, unable to say a thing. Static choking up from his throat, and Sir Pentious found his hands at his own, remembering how it felt to be unable to speak. What to even feel? What could he feel?

Shouldn't he be laughing right now? Feeling so *powerful* for being the object of *Alastor's* affections? This should be making him feel unstoppable, but instead it felt like daggers plunged into his back, dragging down. Every breath wrung with *pain.* Sir Pentious' teeth grit, and he glared, flexing his talons out toward Alastor.

"I LET YOU *TOUCH* ME, I THOUGHT WE WERE *FRIENDSSS*, BUT YOU WERE JUSSSST USING ME, WEREN'T YOU!?" There it was--that hatred for himself bubbling up, paranoia clawing its way out of his throat, "YOU SSSSAY YOU WANTED TO BE MY FRIEND, BUT YOU WERE TRYING TO-- YOU JUSSSssT WANTED--" Wanted what? Alastor hadn't *lied,* he just hadn't been forthcoming. But here, Sir Pentious felt wave after wave of feelings that he couldn't describe. Why did he feel so *betrayed?* "FROM WHENCE DID IT **BEGIN???** HAVE YOU ALWAYSSS BEEN LUSssssTING AFTER ME!? I AM *ENGAGED*, ALASSSTOR!"

He was starting to be so cruel, and he could taste his own venom on his tongue now. Why did it matter this much?

Alastor

He can already see how this is going to end: with Sir Pentious throwing Alastor out of his afterlife completely; with Alastor alone again; with Alastor having merely been taunted for two months with the hope of getting back the best friend he's ever had, before being rewarded for his audacity in daring to think he'd found a cross-dimensional loophole around his rightful punishment for his betrayal.

He can save them both time by apologizing for inconveniencing Sir Pentious, walking out the door, and never coming back.

"I'm sorry." Start there. But he can't let go. (Isn't that the whole problem?) And he can't be the one to turn his back on Sir Pentious. If Sir Pentious throws him out, so be it—but this time, at least, it's going to be for the truth, not for what Alastor leaves Sir Pentious to assume. "For—for what little it's worth—lust never factored into it. And I never—I do—we *are* friends. I've never thought otherwise. I'm not trying to come between you and your fiancée. I've always—I've tried to let you take the lead, to... to decide when and how to touch—*because* we're friends, I—it was your right to set the limits."

Sir Pentious

*For what little it’s worth … we are friends.*

These few words were enough to send stabs of agony through his chest, and Sir Pentious wasn’t much for subtlety. His eyes widened again, and he clutched at where his black heart ought to be. He shouldn’t be feeling enraged, betrayed at all! He shouldn’t be! *Penley, you idiot, what are you doing? So obsessed with yourself, you’re making this all about you, too. Looking for reasons to be alone again, aren’t you?*

But it DID hurt. It *did* hurt. There was something here, something that hurt beyond all measure–if Alastor truly wanted to be his friend, if Alastor, of all damned sinners in this inferno of suffering, truly loved him… wasn’t that a lie? It wasn’t him that he loved, it was… a different man. The same man, but different.

Rage wet his eyes, and he brought up a sleeve to wipe at them–*no*, do not *cry* in front of ~~*your enemies*~~ *anyone else* you damned old fool. Least of all The Radio Demon! Do you want to get laughed at???

*He wouldn’t laugh at me. He is my friend.*

*HE IS NOT* YOUR *FRIEND. YOU ARE A* SUBSTITUTE.

With that wicked quickness the King Cobra is known for, Sir Pentious closes the gap between them, his hood flared out as he bares those yellow fangs of his, “DON’T **FUCK** WITH ME, YOU BASTARD! HOW COULD I SET LIMITS WHEN I THOUGHT ALL IT WAS WAS SSOMETHING WITHOUT SSSUCH FEELINGSSS INVOLVED!? THOUGHT YOU COULD GET A LAUGH OUT OF ME, THE LONELY INVENTOR!!! I WAS JUSSST A SSSSSUBSSSTITUTE FOR YOUR SSSSERPENT. IF YOU HADN’T **FUCKED THINGSSS UP** BACK THEN, THEN WE’D NEVER HAVE BECOME FRIENDSS!!!!”

Oh, he was going for the jugular now. All of that pain was coming out now! And though he’d wiped his eyes, the tears brimming were unmistakable. Lonely Sir Pentious was crying.

Alastor

Alastor leans back when Sir Pentious looms over him, gripping the edge of the bench as he fights down the automatic instinct to defend himself.

*If you hadn't fucked things up*—He flinches like he was slapped. Sir Pentious is right. He's right, and Alastor knows it, and they're the same words he's told himself for the past fifty-four years; but they hurt so much more in that voice. They hurt so much more seeing the fury and pain and tears in Sir Pentious's eyes. The last time he saw Sir Pentious like that, it was among the ruins of his flagship, begging Alastor to explain why he'd just destroyed everything they'd worked for.

And yet, Sir Pentious is *wrong.* "You—think I've been laughing at you?!" He lets out a high, nervous, hysterical laugh—NO that is the EXACT WRONG PANIC REACTION for this situation—he claps a hand over his mouth with the sound of a radio dial firmly clicking off and just shakes his head *no* until he's sure he can control his voice.

"Maybe we wouldn't have met—and maybe you started out as a substitute for mine, but—you aren't now! I know you, not well enough, but well enough to see that the things I value in him *do* exist in you, and where you differ, I value you on your own merits! And if mine slithered in right this second, said all was forgiven, invited me onto his airship, and promised everything I've ever wanted—it would hurt to leave! I'd *miss* the picnics, sitting around watching ASMR videos, sparring with you, figuring out how to cook for you—even how you *breathe.*" He's digging himself the deepest grave Hell's ever seen. At least let Sir Pentious hate him for the right reasons.

Sir Pentious

That was most assuredly the worst possible panic reaction, and it would have ruined whatever it was Alastor was trying to do here–had he not continued. Sir Pentious stared, watching him explain himself, watching him dig a hole so deep he might as well have ended up in Heaven after all.

Perhaps that hole would have made Penny hate him more, but instead… he felt his chest ache further, and he grabbed at his hood, *pulling* it *harshly* to compensate for the pain, to try to keep himself grounded. Alastor was listing off things about him, things that he and Al had done together. Things that were somehow special between the two of them.

Picnics and silly little videos and making ridiculous jokes about things nobody else would care about nor have reference for. Alastor had been the closest in years for someone that Sir Pentious could have related to—he wanted so badly for that companionship, that *understanding* with another demon in Hell who *really understood him.* And now, more than ever, he really had it.

Valera would often list things that Penny did, talked about how much she loved him. The way he is always making some kind of sound, his mannerisms for talking, the way he cares so deeply for her… Every time she’d do so, he could feel his chest swell with such love and passion. It was always too much for him to handle in those moments… words always failed him, he could think of naught to say except “Thank you”, which scraped the bare minimum of how he felt about her.

And Alastor… he had begun to do it, too. It was obvious now, to Sir Pentious, that Alastor had since stopped talking about things that likely *any* Genius Inventor Supervillain had done, and rather had began to talk *specifically* about him. It made him feel seen in ways only Valera had made him feel before.

They *loved* him, and he *hated* himself.

One hundred and fifty years of self loathing

was having a difficult time combatting all of this **love.**

Sir Pentious leaned back, and attempted to speak–he pointed a finger at Alastor, fangs bared as he prepared to let loose into another barrage of insults, of *cutting* words… only to find himself *unable* to speak.

He tried again, and again, to no avail with each attempt. Here he was, forcibly speechless, as panic began to steal him away. His eyes widened further, and he began to scratch at his throat, *furiously ashamed* with this total failure he was showing himself to be. *How pitiful, Sir Pentious. And you wonder why █████ left you. You can never be counted on when you’re needed most.*

Alastor

It's a barbed wire-wrapped sword through his heart when Sir Pentious's expression of fury melts into panic and he starts clawing at his own throat.

"No, oh no." He automatically reaches up, grabs Sir Pentious's hands, and pulls them down. His hands feel like they're holding red hot irons.

"*I'm sorry.* I shouldn't touch you. But I'm not letting you hurt yourself on my account." It's the first time this whole conversation he's felt like he sounds like himself, albeit an unusually serious version of himself. "If you need someone to claw up, let it be me."

Acid blood, Sir Pentious had called it; brain-storms, they were called in Alastor's time—temporary bouts of madness brought on by distress too great for a rational human mind to endure. And Alastor is the one who pushed Sir Pentious into this one. His mind races as he tries to figure out how to fix his damage. (Stupid question. He doesn't fix it. He knows that. Didn't he himself tell Sir Pentious he's better at knocking things down than setting them back up? Didn't Sir Pentious call him a wrecking ball?)

Sir Pentious

They might as *well* have been red hot irons–Sir Pentious’ eyes were glowing brightly, wide as they were. At this proximity, Alastor would be able to feel the tremor running under that grip–He tried so hard to mask it, but he was trembling from the intensity of his emotions.

Still, that *smile.* It wasn’t quite as strong as he knew Alastor was capable of, but the fact he could see it at all cut him to ribbons on the inside. Sir Pentious, in his haze of self loathing and fear of being a joke, took that smile as confirmation despite Alastor only saying the opposite. How many times must he say it before you *believe* him, Penny?

So close now, and he could easily pull away–but instead, he sought to cause pain. This was his way of coping, and he always managed to hurt the ones he cared about. Why should now be any different? He had bitten Valera when he was like a feral beast, and here he would tear Alastor apart in just the way he wanted. After all, he *offered.*

His hood flaring out and a monstrous *hiss* escaping his throat, Sir Pentious lunged his head forward, burying his fangs into the base of Alastor’s neck, right where it met the shoulder. He easily penetrated the flesh, sinking in to the gums as his eyes carried *madness.* Not only had he bitten him, but it was the same place he’d bitten him before, two months ago.

Alastor

He gasps in with an awful feedback noise, pain shooting across his neck and over his shoulder. On some level, he isn't surprised. On some level, he realizes, he was hoping for this.

He doesn't know if Sir Pentious intends it as his forgiveness, his penance, or his punishment.

And between the pain and the uncertainty and the knowledge that even though it's agony he's still not worthy of it—he finally breaks. He bursts into noisy, crackling sobs, his voice hardly audible under the distortion, shaking so hard he might not be able to sit up if Sir Pentious himself wasn't inadvertently holding him up by the shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" He clings desperately to Sir Pentious, he can't stop himself. He's talking fast, words spilling out, trying to get it all out before Sir Pentious stops listening to him for good. "*I'm sorry.* I know you hate how I feel, I hate it too. I'd shut it off if I could! It's why I ruined everything and *ran*, because I'm a *coward* and I was *afraid* of what love would make me—I was afraid of being *this.* I'm sorry you have to put up with it too!"

One hand curls clawlike into Sir Pentious's lapels to pull him closer and his fangs deeper. This is going to be the last time. He has to make it hurt. "I wish it—I *wish* it could have been something good for you. I'd fantasized about confessing someday—when you needed proof of my loyalty, I could have made some—some grand gesture—"here, here's your proof, here's how you know I'll never betray you!" Even if you don't reciprocate, I'd hoped you could—could draw strength from it! Here's one more person who esteems you so highly! Here's one more more person who would give you Heaven and Hell! Here's one more person who would do anything to see you happy and triumphant! But I can't even do that much for you, I—I'm so *sorry*—"

He can't get any more out. His last few words break up like a signal in a tunnel, and all he's left with is wordless sobbing and shaking.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious had a chance now, to spill his venom into Alastor. He had a chance to watch him *writhe* in physical agony to match the swirling intensity that the serpent felt inside. But it was clear, from the way the deerman broke so suddenly in his jaws, that Penny realized there was no need.

Alastor was *shattered* in a way that Penny had never, ever seen him. Never heard him. This man, who carried himself with such superiority and class, now a broken, sobbing ruin of a demon clung to the hellish gentleman’s body. He wasn’t goading him, he wasn’t boasting. He wasn’t destroying everything he’d built only to run off or laugh in his face.

He was just… miserable. And it was misery that Sir Pentious could not enjoy… it reminded him of his own wretched wailing when Valera had been there to hold him, too. Suddenly, Alastor stopped being The Radio Demon to Sir Pentious, and had become something else.

*Al. My best friend. You’re not so bad, you old bastard.*

But he wasn’t in the right mind to forgive him, just yet. Forgiveness… what a laughable thing for a *demon* to consider. He pulled his teeth from Alastor’s neck, staring him hard in the face as tears of his own ran down his cheeks. That horrid smile of Alastor’s, twisted with intense sadness…

“Ssstop *sssmiling*, you imbecile.”

He brings his hands up, grabbing at Alastor’s face with both of them, and *forcing* the corners of that mad grin down, to the best of his ability, even if his talons pinched that face. Once he was done with that, he’d return the hug, tightly, his tail slowly wrapping up the other as the most grounding thing he could think of. Emotional intimacy was not his strong suit, but Valera had taught him some things, too.

“… JUSSST… BREATHE… AT THE SAME TIME AS ME. FOLLOW *MY* LEAD.”

Alastor

He can't meet Sir Pentious's gaze; he squeezes his eyes shut automatically. And immediately opens them again when Sir Pentious touches his face. He's distantly surprised to be told he *is* still smiling. He can't feel it at all. The crumbling remains of his smile collapse effortlessly under Sir Pentious's hands and he bites his lower lip, the corners of his mouth twitching like he doesn't know what to do with them when they aren't twisted up.

Why is he being *held*? He doesn't deserve this. But he leans into it, eyes shutting again, face pressed to Sir Pentious's shoulder, arms wrapped tight around his back. He can feel Sir Pentious's chest rising and falling with each breath—it's the most reassuring feeling, the most reassuring sound in the world. He can breathe. He can do that.

His shuddering reduces, his sobs slowly stop. He isn't sure if he's still crying or if it's just the old tears clinging to his face. But he's breathing. And he's—god, how did this happen?—he's exactly where he's wanted to be for the last fifty-four years.

He croaks, "If you're planning to exterminate me, please make it now." Cue the world's tinniest laugh track.

Sir Pentious

Satan himself, it actually worked. He managed to… calm Alastor down. He’d done exactly what Valera had done for him before, and… well, he sold himself short, now didn’t he? He’d calmed down Valera before, too. Maybe he didn’t destroy everything he touched. Maybe… he was good at maintaining his relationships, after all. Why, these two thought he was good enough to willingly be around, so… maybe he could give himself a chance, too.

The love aspect that was added on… Pentious still wasn’t sure what to do with that. Could he handle knowing that Alastor loved him? That every action between the two of them had this tension? Or would it only have tension if he allowed it to? Sir Pentious bumped his forehead to Alastor’s, a little rougher than usual to at least show he was irritated…

“YOU ARE OFF THE AIR. GIVE YOURSSSELF A BREAK.”

He adjusts the deerman’s monocle, and straightens up his suit, before he reaches into his own suit jacket and pulls out a handkerchief. Penny moves to undo the neck portion of Alastor’s suit, so that he could place the handkerchief inside and on his shoulder–but he stops himself, instead just handing him the cloth.

“…I AM ANGRY WITH YOU. I AM FRUSSSTRATED AND I DO NOT KNOW WHEN I WILL FEEL ABLE TO BE COMFORTABLE WITH YOU AGAIN. BUT I WILL WANT THISSSS HANDKERCHIEF BACK, DO YOU UNDERSSSTAND? SSSSO. DO NOT RUN AWAY FROM ME, ALASSSTOR. I WILL NEVER TALK TO YOU AGAIN IF YOU EVEN *THINK* ABOUT RUNNING AWAY FROM ME.”

His own voice was hoarse, despite how loud it was, and he was clearly tired from crying and shouting. Sir Pentious looked thoroughly tired, as if he had been drinking and yet he’d had not a drop. Emotionally drained, and all out of spoons.

Alastor

Alastor is more than capable of tidying himself up, and under any other circumstances he *would,* irritably pushing off whoever dared try to fuss over him—but it's such a shock that *Sir Pentious* is doing it, and it's so *nice*, he just stands there in stunned silence, letting him.

He numbly takes the handkerchief, and for a moment stares blankly at it before figuring out what it's for. He quickly undoes his bow tie—his fingers twitch when he remembers whose it is—and then hastily undoes his collar and slides the handkerchief under.

"I can send it back this evening after I launder it." His voice is filtered through a radio again—Sir Pentious is wrong, he's *always* on air—with the crackles and pops like an old phonogram record complimenting the hoarseness of his own voice. He looks down to avoid meeting Sir Pentious's gaze, realizes that doesn't solve the problem, and glances to the side. "If you're trying to use the handkerchief to say that you see this ending some way other than never wanting to speak to me again... then be more direct."

A few members of the invisible studio audience weakly chuckle. Alastor waves them off with his free hand, muttering, "Shut *up,* not the time," then winces as the gesture makes his shoulder sting.

Sir Pentious

Ah, he was called out. It gets a frustrated look out of him, but… you know. That’s exactly the kind of thing he’d have said to Alastor, before. Sir Pentious folds his arms, flinching a little as the pain from having scratched at himself reminds him that it is still present.

“… I DON’T WANT YOU TO RUN AWAY FROM ME, BECAUSE I WANT TO SSSEE YOU AGAIN, ON MY TERMSSS. BUT IF I SSEE YOU TOO SSOON… I MIGHT HATE YOU FOREVER.”

A deep inhale, and slow exhale. Sir Pentious slowly unravels his tail from around the other demon, though it remains behind him in case he cannot stand on his own, “… I REQUIRE TIME TO PROCESS THISS, ALASSSTOR. PERHAPSS YOU ARE RIGHT, THAT I SHOULD NEVER WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU EVER AGAIN. BY ALL ACCOUNTSS, I OUGHT TO AGREE WITH THAT AND NEVER SSSPEAK TO YOU AGAIN!”

His tail lashes with some irritability, and now it’s his turn to avoid any kind of eye contact. “… But. I sstill want to. I do not want you to leave. I have… *fun* when you are around. The kind of fun that I never had before… Because. I do not have friends. There are very few people who would want to be around me.” Blast it he was rambling on again. He covers his face with a hand, grimacing as all he can taste on his tongue is Alastor’s blood. It made him dizzy with misery. “I will be on Okkylk. When I am ready to take back the handkerchief, I will pick it up in *person.*”

Alastor

He listens to the half-threats as stoically as he can with his smile missing—he feels naked and raw and exposed—and he fears that with his face twitching after every sentence, it's not nearly as stoic as he'd like to think.

His heart nearly leaps into his throat when Sir Pentious says he wants Alastor to stay—then plummets back down. It's not because it's Alastor's friendship, specifically, that he values; it's because he needs anyone's friendship, and Alastor's the one offering it. Piss-poor and putrid though it is. He already knew that, didn't he? Hadn't he said to Valera that Sir Pentious doesn't like Alastor—he just likes that Alastor likes him? He wishes he could bring anything more to the table than this desperate last resort friendship—but he shot any chances of that in the head decades ago.

He nods wearily. "You know where to find me. You won't hear a peep out of me until you come calling, barring emergencies—overheard assassination plots or the like."

Sir Pentious

How they hated themselves. If he'd known that Alastor had come to that conclusion, well... maybe he'd have said something else. But as it stood, right now, Sir Pentious was beyond exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to wrap himself up in his fiancee, to breathe her in and feel some form of comfort after all of *this*...

It wasn't fair to think of it that way, he knew that Alastor was suffering, but what could he do? His cup was empty, and he could not pour from it. His eyes looked back up to see that pitiful expression, and... he gestured with his index talon--a smiley face. "... YOU CAN SSMILE AGAIN, ALASSTOR. YOU'RE NOT DRESSED WITHOUT IT." Ha...ha. Ha. He immediately looks like he regrets the sentence before he turns, and begins to slither back through the piping.

How he hated himself, but they loved him.

Alastor

He attempts a smile. He fails. He isn't surprised. He almost responds "*No, I can't,*" but Sir Pentious is dealing with enough of Alastor's personal problems. He doesn't need another.

He watches Sir Pentious go; pulls the bow tie out from around his collar, drops it on the workbench beside the travel mug; and then melts into the shadows.

#hissandvinegar #chat log

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ginger-bread-official · 4 years

Text

A ‘Girl Dad’

Cygnus Black was powerful, influential and a softy when it came to his girls.

Words: 6845

Ted made sure to keep his wand pointed at his father in law as he reached into his brief case and pulled out what he came all this way to show the old man. He slid the manila folder across the desk.

“Whats this?”

“Open it.” Ted ordered. The wizard did as he was told, finding several pictures in the folder. “Her name is Nymphadora Druella Tonks. Your granddaughter.”

Cygnus Black never found his passion at the ministry. He was a conservative member of the Wizengamot and served his constituents faithfully; upholding the rights of Purebloods. He hated the bureaucracy and the squabbling politicians, but he had purpose. A purpose that maintained the influence, power and safety of his family. Yes he hated his work, but who else was going to do it.

He was returning from a particularly productive committee meeting, feeling his mood improve, when he spotted a wizard waiting outside his offices. The man had sandy blonde hair that was styled up in a messy quiff, light skin that was adorned with a smattering of freckles, and a tall lean frame. He wore green professional robes and carried a small brief case that sat at his feet. Cygnus entered his offices and addressed his assistant,

“Any messages?” He asked.

“The Malfoy estate sent an owl, I assume about personal matters.” She handed him the unopened letter, “Your campaign manager sent a list of guests for your fundraiser to approve and the bloke out side is here for a meeting on behalf of the Potioneer’s Union.” Cygnus raised an eyebrow in questioning.

“The Potioneer’s Union?”

“I think it has to do with a campaign donation.” She replied.

“You think?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ask?” She shrugged in response. She really was useless, and if the councilman didn’t owe her father a favor she would be out on her ass last week. “Fine, well what’s his name?”

“Edward something.” He sighed in defeat, he was going to have to go into this meeting blind. Determined not to let her incompetence ruin his good mood he instructed for her to send him in. He entered one room deeper to his office. Settling just as the young man entered.

“Hello, I’m Cygnus Black.” The councilman gestured to the seat in front of his desk, “My assistant tells me you’re with the potioneer’s union.” The young man sat opposite and nodded in affirmation as the office door closed behind him. “Whats your name?”

“Edward Sir.” He responded.

“Any last name?”

“Thats a little more difficult Sir.” Edward said evasively

“Whats your business with me Edward?” Cygnus asked feeling his patience start to wear. There was a beat of silence where the young wizard took a deep breath.

“Well I’m actually here on more of a personal matter sir.” Cygnus narrowed his eyes at this statement. “I am with the Potioneer’s union, but they don’t have any business with you.” Cygnus felt a cold feeling crawl up his spine at Edward’s confession. Was the councilman in danger? “I used my position in the union to get a meeting with you.” There was another beat of silence. The older wizard looked to where his wand was sitting out of arms reach. He needed the wizard to keep talking so he could reach for it.

“So you used the union to get me alone.”

“Yes. I just needed a few minutes to show you—” Edward reached down to his briefcase allowing Cygnus to lunge for his wand and aim it at the boy, but his old age was no match for the agile young man’s reflexes.

“Sectum—” Cygnus didn’t finish the spell before the young man cried out

“Expelliarmus!” The councilman wand flew out of his hand. “I was hoping we could be civil about this.” Edward now held both their wands.

“Civil about you assassinating me?!” Cygnus roared.

“Assassin—NO! I just came here to talk.”

“Why would you lie to get a meeting with me only to talk?”

“Because it was the only way you would see me!” The both paused, looking at one another. Cygnus saw the desperation in the young man’s eyes.

“Whats your name boy?” He asked again, his question penetrating the heavy silence around them. Edward took a deep breath, gathering his courage,

“My name is Edward Tonks. My friends call me Ted. I’m a Muggle-born and married to your daughter Andro—”

“Don’t you say her name.” He spat out. As soon as he heard the boys full name he knew who he was. That name had been the one that tore his favorite daughter from him. It was the name she declared love for. Love over her own family. There was a silence a silence that seemed to bare the weight of all of Cygnus’ rage. This filth had taken away his baby girl, his beautiful, brilliant Andromeda. “Get out!” He snapped. But Ted remained. “Are you deaf?! I said GET OUT!!” He stepped towards the boy, but Ted raised his wand.

“No! I wanted to talk as adults, but I guess we’ll have to do it the hard way.” Cygnus was enraged that he raise a wand against him, but what could he do? “I only need a few minutes. I don’t need you to respect me, I don’t even need you to speak, but you’re damn well going to listen to what I have to say.”

“You think you can hold a member of he Wizengamot at wand point and not suffer consequences?!”

“I don’t care about the consequences, and I don’t give a shit how important you think you are. You’re going to sit and listen. You’ll have to excuse my rudeness, but you’ve put my wife through hell and I have no patience left for your bullshit!” There was a tense moment where Ted thought the older man might charge at him, but he sat; sending daggers with his stare. Ted made sure to keep his wand pointed at his father in law as he reached into his brief case and pulled out what he came all this way to show the old man. He slid the manila folder across the desk.

“Whats this?”

“Open it.” Ted ordered. The wizard did as he was told, finding several pictures in the folder. “Her name is Nymphadora Druella Tonks. Your granddaughter.” Cygnus’ eyes fell on the baby in the pictures. A feeling welled up in him, one that drove away every ounce of pain and rage he was feeling a moment ago. He was a grandfather. His Andromeda was a mother to a beautiful baby girl. His eyes were glued to a picture of the mother holding her new born. He remembered the day each of his girls was born and how elated he was at the sight of them. His focus moved to a picture of the infant sleeping peacefully, then to one of her first bath, then one of her smiling and wiggling in her onesie. In as his eyes traced over her pudgy baby features a strange thing happened. Her hair in the picture changed color. What was a replica of her mothers chestnut hair was now a light peach color.

“Her hair.” He commented not knowing how to put what he just saw into a question.

“She’s a metamorphmagus.” Ted explained. Cygnus looked up to make sure he heard right. “We took her to St. Mungo’s to be sure.” Ted confirmed. Merlin’s pants that was a rare ability. His granddaughter was a metamorphmagus! He could hardly contain his pride. Ted lowered his wand and continued, “I know you don’t approve of me, but she is your granddaughter, and if you’d like to meet her I can arrange it so I’m not there. It can just be you and Andie.” Cygnus was only half listening as he was too enchanted by a photo where every time she blinked her eyes changed color. “She doesn’t know I’m here, but I know it kills her that you haven’t met Dora.” She looked like Andromeda, he thought happily remembering how his daughter had the same pert nose. “If you wish to tell Durella too I’m sure Andie would—” He came to the final picture in the file. It was a group of people. He recognized His daughter, her husband and of course his granddaughter, but there were two older people. The man was clapping Ted on the shoulder with a sparkle of pride in his eye and the woman had her full attention on the baby in Andromeda’s arms.

“Who are they?” Cygnus Black asked holding the picture of the group.

“Those are my parents.” Ted explained. I all came crashing back down on the old wizard. These people were muggles. The filth in front of him was a mudblood and his daughter was defiling the Black bloodline with vile unpure blood. This baby was not a ‘Black’, but a halfblooded freak that would tarnish the family name. He closed the folder with the pictures and slid it back across the desk.

“She is no granddaughter of mine.” He said cooly. Ted’s hopeful expression faded and his shoulders fell.

“I know its not what you wanted for Andie, but she is your granddaughter. She’s half Black.” Ted pleaded.

“No.” Cygnus rose from his chair. “My daughter forfeited her heritage and the right to that family name when she chose to slum it with a mudblood.” He could feel the pain of losing Andromeda all over again, “She is not my daughter and this is not my granddaughter.” He waved the file in Teds face.

“Please. I know you burned her from the family tree, but she’s still your daughter, she still loves you and if you would just—”

“No! I’m through listening to a filthy mudblood. That blood traitor is not my daughter and this freak—this mutt is not my granddaughter.” He shoved the file back at Ted. The new father let the folder fall to the floor as he whipped his wand back out. With a fire that he’d never possessed before, he hurtled the desk between the men and pushed his father in law back into the chair. Ted’s wand was pressed into the old mans throat and could feel the tremor of fear and see the shock in Cygnus’ eyes.

“You want to call me a mudblood, fine. Call your daughter a blood traitor, she’s heard worse. But don’t you ever insult my baby girl.” Cygnus felt the end of the wand dig painfully into his skin, “She’s a blessing, a gift. And you’re not worthy to utter her name.” There was a moment, a dark moment, where Ted thought he might actually kill Cygnus. End the pain he’s caused his wife and all the bigoted bullshit he spreads. But he couldn’t be a good father from Azkaban. He settled for stunning him and leaving him to drool on his collar.

Tonks picked up the folder with the pictures of his daughter having to search on the floor for one or two that fell out. He found the last one under his chair and gazed onto the image of his Nymphadora. It was the picture of her smiling and changing her hair. Ted could have sworn he saw the old man soften when looking at this. He looked up to the unconscious wizard, and wished he could feel angry at him. But all he felt was pity. This bigoted old man was going to let his pride stop him from meeting his granddaughter. What kind of broken person lives like that? He placed the picture of his daughter in front of Cygnus and took his leave.

Cygnus Black woke hours later to find baby Nymphadora smiling back up at him. He saw her innocent smile and her beautiful brown eyes, and broke. Tears ran freely down his wrinkled cheeks at the sight of his first grandchild. He should have burned the picture, tore it up and arrested her father for attacking him, but he didn’t. He instead placed the picture carefully in the false bottom of a desk drawer and excused his absence that afternoon as old man’s poor memory.

In moments where he was alone he would steal glances at the picture. Sometimes finding the baby smiling back up at him, and others she would be sleeping soundly in the confines of the image. He never told Durella of Ted coming to see him about their granddaughter, but soon the news of Nymphadora reached her ears and Cygnus had to feign indifference to the child.

Years later Cygnus was still fighting for restrictive muggle born bills and ruffling liberal feathers on the Wizengamot. He was taking his lunch in his office and reading the Prophet when his heart nearly stopped.

‘The Transfiguration department at Hogwarts is expected to adjust courses and curriculum in the coming years due to the first Metamorphmagus to attend Hogwarts in over a century. Nymphadora Tonks has been stumping the previously unshakable Minerva McGonagall with her rare ability.’

The article went on to explain the special training Nymphadora would be receiving to refine her abilities and even had a quote from McGonagall herself sharing what a talented witch she was becoming. He read the article through, and then again, and then a third time soaking in every word of what a prodigy she was. How the mischievous Hufflepuff was an example to her classmates. He had become a grandfather again by this point to Draco Malfoy. The boy was a proper pureblood and made his grandfather proud, but Cygnus had always been a ‘girl dad’ and yearned for that again. The mention of her name brought all the mixed emotions back to the surface. He knew that he should have been disgusted and ashamed, but all he could feel was pride. He wasn’t even bothered by the information that she was a Hufflepuff, just to hear that she was excelling made him smile. He carefully cut out the article; searching through the paper for a picture, but not finding one. He placed a preservation charm on it and clipped it to the one picture he had of her as a baby. He traced the edge of the picture wondering what she looked like now. A melancholy smile crossed his face as he tried to imagine a smiling 11 year old Nymphadora. He then placed it carefully in the false bottom of his desk drawer and went back to work.

He survived the following years on snippets from the prophet and rumors. He saved anything he came across with her name in it. He found out she made her quidditch team her third year; over hearing some red headed fellow talking about his son’s game against Hufflepuff.

“The Tonks’ Girl sure gave my Charlie a hard time, during the match. But my boy pulled out a great catch at the end.” Cygnus couldn’t tell what position she was from that, but he locked the little information away loving any news he could get. She was mentioned multiple times in the prophet, usually at the end of the year for some academic achievement, but sometimes for less desirable reasons. In her third year she got caught up in the Cursed vault nonsense alongside that Carter Turner girl. While he gathered from the paper that she wasn’t harmed he was furious with her for being so reckless. All was forgive however in her forth year, when he got his first glimpse at her since Ted had left him that picture fourteen years ago. The article was really about the famous Curse Breaker Rakepick. She was hired to find and break the rest of the cursed vaults, and assembled a team of students to help. Front and center was Carter Turner, but two heads down was a young woman with spiky hair, a mischievous smile and freckles across her pert nose. He didn’t need to read the footer to know that was his Nymphadora. The article focused on Rakepick and Carter mostly, but mentioned Nymphadora as ‘a talented and capable friend.’ He stared at he picture for a few more moments trying with all his might to change the black and white photo into color. He wondered what shade her hair was.

Her fifth year she was mentioned as being one of only five students in her year to achieve all Outstanding in her O.W.Ls, and in her sixth year she was awarded the Falco Aesalon medal for transfiguration; an international award for of age students. In her seventh year she was noted as pursuing a career as an auror. By this time he had collected a dozen articles on his granddaughter and only three pictures. He was ashamed to admit it, but he loved her. Even with her mother’s betrayal and her father’s blood, he loved her, and wanted to see her happy. Word around the ministry was that she was arising star in the auror program and was under the tutelage of Alastor Moody himself. He only heard whispers and read mentions in the news letters. He was afraid to confront her, she was only two floors away, but he couldn’t convince himself to make the trip. He was too scared to find out what she actually thought of him. He’s sure her mother would have told her everything, and possibly her father would have told her how he called her ‘mutt’. It was the greatest regret of his life; not taking Ted’s offer.

In the last year of his life Cygnus Black became ill. He dutifully served on the Wizengamot until the end to many’s annoyance, but it was his last vote that perplexed nearly the entire wizarding world. Delores Umbridge was attempting to pass a strict ‘Mutant Bill’ essentially forbidding any ‘mutant’ from being hired without the Ministry’s approval. It was a shoe in to pass and would have been enacted by the fall of 1993. However, someone in their argument pointed out that this law would apply to more than werewolves and vampires. It could include animagi, merpeople, and even a Metamorphmagus. This brought Cygnus’ attention forward. He listened to the argument and agreed the law was flawed. He cared not for the werewolves or the merpoeple, but if Nymphadora’s dream job was decided by committee, well Delores would bar her from working purely because of her ripped jeans. They were given three days before the vote and Cygnus went to work. In one last ditch effort he ran a counter campaign to the bill, calling in favors and resorting to threats in some cases. Dumbledores caucus was a safe vote against the bill, but he needed fifteen additional votes to stop the bill. He couldn’t vote against it himself, knowing his constituents would tear him apart if he did. He had a partner in Ackley Dolohov, who needed to stop the bill for his animagus nephew.

“With Edgecombe that’s fourteen.”

“Damnit.” Cygnus cursed, “What about McLaggen?” He asked.

“Laughed at me for about a quarter hour before throwing me out her office. I don’t think I can pull any more strings.” He said defeated. Cygnus sighed heavily, which turned into a fit of coughs.

“Cyg—” Dolohov stood to help

“I’m fi—” another fit of coughing over took him. “fine.” He finished. The pair sat in silence for a moment allowing Cygnus to catch his breath.

“What if you vote for it?” Cygnus asked after a moment. “We’d be at fifteen and—”

“You know I can’t do that.” He threw down the paper. “I’ve got constituents just like you and I’m up for re-election next year.” Silence settled again. Dolohov was never told why stopping this bill meant so much to his mentor, but he had an idea. Anyone whose been around long enough remembers Andromeda running of with the Tonks boy. Those who really paid attention know that Andromeda had always been his favorite. And her halfblood daughter was a metamorphmagus. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Ackley stood and made his leave. Saying as he did, “Votes in two hours. See you then.” He closed the door behind him and left the old wizard to his thoughts. Cygnus opened his top drawer and removed the false bottom. He pulled out the articles and memos, the pictures and newsletters, and laid them out on his desk. He re-read through her life, trying to picture the transition from baby to teenager to adult. Imagining what color her hair is in the two pictures from the prophet. He liked to think it was brown like Andie’s. He found the newsletter that announced the first student admitted into auror training in almost a decade. He chuckled at the memo from Alastor Moody warning everyone that his mentee sabotaged the fairy cakes in the cafeteria (they were actually frosted with cottage cheese). His laughter turned to violent coughs, unstoppable and painful. He finally settled to see that he had coughed blood all over his clippings.

“Shit!” He exclaimed. He attempted to clear the blood away with his wand, but his hands were shaking and his magic failed him. “Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” He roared in frustration. He flung his wand across the room and stood abruptly from his desk, toppling over the chair.

“Sir?” A soft woman’s voice rang through the door. “Are you okay?” He grabbed his walking cane and hobbled over to the door to open it.

“I’m fine Claudia.” She had been a loyal and hard worker for nearly ten years now. “I’m going to grab some fresh air.” He stated grabbing his traveling cloak.

“Would you like someone with you?” She asked kindly, “No no, I’ll be fine.” He wrapped his cloak around him ad made for the door, but was stopped by something on her desk. “Are these files going to the auror office?” There was a stack of files in the outbox labeled for the second floor.

“Yes. A couple signatures were missing from the arrest report.” He picked up the file and opened to the first page. The secondary was Kingsley Shackelbolt, but the Primary was Alastor Moody. He closed the file and tucked it under his arm.

“I’ll take these up on my way out.” His assistant looked perplexed, he had never offered to do anything of the sort before, but she knew by now not to question certain things he did. Cygnus held on tight to the files as he rode the lift to the second floor. He didn’t allow his thoughts to wander to what he planned to do or what people might think. He only focused on getting himself to the auror office.

“Can I help you sir?” The receptionist at the office asked pleasantly. His mind went blank. Maybe he should have thought about what he was going to say.

“Uh yes. Well umm—you see I have these— I’m looking for.” The young man looked up confused at the stuttering old wizard.

“Are you lost Sir?” He asked

“No I —uh— I just need to find—”

“NYMPHADORAAAAA!!!!!!” A gravely voice roared through the office. Cygnus turned to look. A young pink haired witch was running from a raging one eyed wizard.

“They’re good for your eyesight!” she hollered over her shoulder as the peg legged man threw carrots at her.

“You’re good for testing my patience girl!” A carrot got Nymphadora in the temple as she hopped over and behind a desk to safety. “If one more of my quills turns into a carrot I’m sending you packing back you your mothers house.” He turned on his heel and march off to his office. Tonks peaked up from behind the desk with a wide smile on her face.

“Sorry about that Sir.” The receptionist drew back his attention after the interruption, “Who were you looking for?” Cygnus realized he had been watching the entire exchange with a smile on his face. He looked back to the young man,

“I’m actually looking for her.” He gestured to the pink haired witch.

“Tonks!” The receptionist called, “This gentleman needs to see you.” She looked up at the sound of her surname and strode over to the front desk. He was waiting for a sign of recognition from her, but it didn’t come. Her bright smile remained on her pale heart shaped face, matching her bright bubblegum pink hair. She had multiple piercings in her ears and one diamond stud on her nose. Her auror robes were buttoned from her collarbone to her hips, but flared out showing ripped jeans and black leather combat boots. Her foot caught on something and she stumbled the last few feet to meet him at the front desk. At first glance she wasn’t any thing like his refined daughters.

“Wotcher,” she greeted, “Names Tonks. How can I help you?” He was perplexed why she didn’t recognize him. They had never met, but she should make the connection in his Wizengamot robes. A quick mental check reminded him that he was actually wearing a traveling cloak. He didn’t look like a councilman, he looked like a page. There was a moment of silence where Nymphadora looked confused. “Sir?” She asked.

“Right, Sorry. I need help with these files.” He gestured to the stack in his arms, “There are some signatures missing.” He handed over the folder. She skimmed through the file and nodded in a few places.

“I was on this case, but I’m too junior to sign these.” She flipped through a few more pages, “I can go get King to finish these up for you.” She closed the file and met his eyes again. He noticed that they had changed from brown to blue.

“That would be great.” He responded.

“You can wait here, or at my desk.” She offered gesturing to a cubicle one row down. He nodded and sat in a chair set next to her desk. She smiled at him and rushed off to find Kingsley. He peered around her cubicle and felt the smile tug back at his lips. It wasn’t messy per say, but she had multiple toys and knick knacks on her desk accompanied by pinned photos and old concert tickets on her wall. Everything was brightly colored and clashed with the somber atmosphere of the office as a whole. The calendar on her wall was of the holyhead harpies and was filled out with appointments, shifts and training schedules. He noticed this Friday it said ‘Tea with mum!’ And he felt his heart ache. There was a post it note on a file that read in the same round handwriting as the calendar ‘Check brother’s alibi!’ He was taking it all in and painting a picture of her personality. He already learned more in 30 seconds than he had in 20 years. He knew she liked a band called ‘The Weird Sisters’, she had friend named Penny, her club quidditch team had a match next Tuesday, and she new a red headed man who worked on a dragon reserve. He wondered if that was her boyfriend. She returned with the file minutes later stumbling into the cubical with the same bright smile.

“All Signed.” She announced, “King just wants me to look it over once more before we send it back with you.” She sat down and began flipping through the pages, making an occasional check or note with a bright pink quill. Cygnus tried not to stare, it was rude and she didn’t know who he was. But it was surreal seeing her. He had only snippets and pieces of information to create this image of her and finally she was in front of him, and she was nothing like he had imagined. He thought she would be a copy of Andromeda; ambitious, graceful and witty. But she wasn’t that at all. She was playful, clumsy and vibrant. He loved her all the more for it.

“Been working here long?” He asked wanting to share some interaction with her to hold in his brain.

“I’m technically still in training. Spend half my time here on cases and half the time in Scotland doing boot camp type stuff.” Her eyes remained on the pages as she spoke, “But yeah It's been just over two years.”

“Do you like it?”

“Love it! It's what I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid.” He added that information to his mental log. “How about you? Been here long?” He chuckled, barely holding back a fit of coughs,

“Longer than you’ve been alive.” The coughing over took him and he pulled out his handkerchief to cover his mouth. She drew her focus from the report and conjured up a glass of water.

“Are you ok?” She asked laying a comforting hand on his arm while offering the glass of water with the other.

“Fine,” he lied, “Just getting over something.” He scrunched up the handkerchief with a shaking hand to hide the blood and took the glass gratefully. As he drank another auror peaked his head over into Tonks’ cubicle,

“Oi! Tonks.” She turned to the man addressing her, “What flavor do you want your cake for the bon voyage party? Remus told King your favorite was Chocolate.” Tonks rolled her eyes.

“His favorite is chocolate. Mine is carrot.” The man smirked at her response.

“Why do I feel like you're saying that to get one more over on ol’ Mad-eye.” He asked with an amused tone.

“‘Cuz you’re a smart bloke.” She winked and the man departed. She turned back to her grandfather refilling his water glass and smiling reassuringly at him.

“Why are they throwing you a bon voyage party?” He asked. Her smile faltered.

“Well they’re voting on this new bill today and it's going to make it really hard to keep me on for full time hire next year.

“How so?” He asked feigning ignorance.

“Well it’ll require wizengamot approval to hire any ‘mutant’, and I’m a metamorphmagus.” She paused and scrunched up her face like she was concentrating on something. The next moment her hair changed to baby blue.

“Thats amazing!” He exclaimed at seeing her use her gift. “Why wouldn’t they hire you back?”

“Well if it was up to Mad-eye I would be. But the way the bill is written I’d have to be vetted by the Wizengamot, and well.” She paused for a moment; possibly choosing her words, “My parents sort of pissed off a bunch of councilmen and they’ll take any excuse to keep me out of the ministry.” He let the truth in her words sink in. His fellow purebloods would see it as protecting his honor to bar her from employment.

“You never know. They could vote the bill down.” He offered, and she smiled.

“Doubtful, but I like your positive thinking.” She turned back to the report, and finished revising any incomplete information. “There.” She closed the folder with a flourish and rebound it for the old man. He began to stand from the chair, but found he was sitting too low for his old legs to handle. He reached for her desk and his walking stick to add leverage, but still struggled. Nymphadora stood and aided him, with her youth and strength.

“Thank you.” He muttered, “never get old.” He warned.

“Don’t know if I have a say on that one.” She quipped, handing him the report. “Oh also,” she pulled open her desk drawer and pulled out a small tin. “This is me mum’s special tea. It's really great for sore throats.” She placed it on top of the report, “Might help with that cough of yours.” He felt the threatening sting of tears forming behind his eyes.

“Thank you Nymphadora.” She cringed at the sound of her given name, but let it slide for the sick old man. She walked him to the receptionist giving him one last smile in farewell. Just before they parted ways,

“Tonks!” A sharp demanding tone rang through the office. Alastor Moody once again entered the bullpen from his office, “I need you and—” but he stopped short. His magical eye which had been wizzing around checking something through the back of his head came forward and focused on the man standing next to his protege. Cygnus of course knew Mad-eye on several levels. He was a frequent witness at trials, a colleague of sorts, and the man who arrested his daughter Bellatrix. A cold moment passed between them. He could see, even a room away, the same protective fire on his eyes that had been in Ted’s twenty years ago in his office. Cygnus stepped back and made to depart from the auror office. Nymphadora gave a little wave good bye and walked to her mentor unaware of what had passed between the two men. Cygnus returned to his office with just enough time to ready for the vote. He removed his traveling cloak and donned his official Wizengamot robes and tucked the baby picture of Nymphadora in his breast pocket for resolve.

Remus Lupin was struggling to keep the sweat out of his eyes as he labored in his back garden. Ted Tonks had been kind enough to send some work his way earlier this week in the form of editing some academic papers for the Potioneer’s magazine. But it really had only given him a day of work, and so he was back to working in the back yard. With income being irregular his entire adult life he had learned to eat what he could grown to save money. Especially now with the ‘Mutant Bill’ likely to pass he needed creative ways to stay afloat. He remembered hearing Nymphadora saying the vote was today; so to keep his mind off of it he began his gardening early in the morning. When it got voted in it would be frustrating for him, but not much more than what he had dealt with since he was a child. What really set his temper on edge was that it dragged down innocent people like Nymphadora. She had been working her whole life to be an auror and to have it stripped away when she was so close was cruel.

He was mending a hole in his wired garden fence when a small pop interrupted his focus. Programmed from years of war he turned immediately; wand at the ready.

“If you were to kill me now you’d be doing yourself a disservice.” The calm voice of Albus Dumbledore responded to the jumpy werewolf.

“Sorry Albus.” He lowered his wand and exited his garden. “Old habits.”

“They’re warranted.” He reassured.

“Can I offer you Ice tea?” He offered his old headmaster who nodded. Lupin entered the back of his small cottage, washing his hands and face before pouring two glasses, adding a lemon wedge to each. He returned out side to find Dumbledore admiring his tomatoes.

“Pamona always said you had a green thumb.” He commented accepting a glass from Remus and following him to a small table near the garden.

“Its relaxing and makes food shopping less of a burden.” He explained. The pair sat in silence letting the summers sun soak into their skin. He knew there was news coming; Dumbledore didn’t often make house calls. The question was if it was good or bad.

“Sir,” Dumbledore tilted his head to indicate he was listening, “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but why are you here?” A small smile rose to Dumbledores lips.

“I’m here to seize and opportunity.” He said airily, “Very slytherin of me, I know. But it's too good to let slip.” Remus raised an eye brow in questioning. “You see the Mutant Bill has just been voted down.”

“It has?!” Remus nearly spit cup his drink at the news.

“Yes, an unexpected ally was the deciding vote, and it's made me realize something.” Again Remus asked a silent question, “I’ve been struggling to find a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for years and if I had only broadened my view I could have seen that there was a perfect candidate right here all along.” His blue eyes found Remus’ hazel.

“Me?” He asked receiving a small nod from the old wizard, “But I’m—I can’t be around kids.”

“You were burdened with lycanthropy while at school, why is this any different?”

“Well I was smaller then, not full grown. And I missed a lot of school because of it. I can’t skip classes as a professor.”

“The answer to both is Severus Snape.” Dumbledore continued. “He’s agreed to brew Wolfsbane potion for you while you're employed at Hogwarts.” Remus couldn’t believe it. He had heard of wolfsbane and from what Ted told him it was like a miracle. It wouldn’t stop the transformation, but it eased your mind, and cut your recovery time in half. He had never been able to afford it before. “And should there be a class or two you had to miss he has free periods to cover for you.” He was speechless. He always wanted to be a teacher, even got a case from his friends with ‘Professor R.J. Lupin’ engraved on it.

“Sir—I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It seems too good to be true.” Dumbledore smiled at the old wolf.

“The safety of my students is the most important thing; second is their instruction.” His kind eyes bore into Lupin, “Your the best man for the job, and I wouldn’t offer this to you if I didn’t trust you 100%.” Warmth spread through his body, “With the Mutant Bill out of the way I can hire you without committee and prove to the wizarding world that our fears about ‘mutants’ are baseless.” He sat back needing a moment to take this all in. To go back to Hogwarts, to teach, it was everything he wanted. He let his mind turnout over a few times. He let the silence settle and the headmaster let him process cheerfully watching the bees hover around his garden and tend to his flowers. After sometime Remus did come up with one question.

“Who was the deciding vote on the bill?” Dumbledore looked back to him, “You said we had an ‘unexpected ally’. Who was it?” He asked

“Cygnus Black.” He stated simply.

“Andie’s father?” He asked bewildered, “But he—he’s the worst of them all. He leads the pureblood caucus.”

“I was as surprised as you are, but in the end his vote stoped the bill.”

“Why do you think he did it?”

“I have a theory, but If I ever asked him he’d deny it with a passion.” Dumbledore left the statement hanging forcing Lupin to question,

“Whats your theory?” Albus smirked

“The bill was worded in such a way that the category of ‘mutant’ could apply to more than one group. Merpeople, Centaurs, Animagi and—”

“Metamorphmagi.” Remus finished. Dumbledore tapped his nose. “But he’s never even met her. Ted told me went to his office and tried to extend an olive branch, but he refused. Called her a ‘mutt’.”

“Yes well, we’re weaker men when we’re younger. We allow our pride to cloud our better judgement. I have reason to believe he’s had a change of heart.” He continued, “After the vote, I received an owl form Alastor Moody saying that Cygnus had visited the auror office not an hour before.” Remus raised an eyebrow skeptically, “Additionally, I am on good terms with Cygnus’ assistant, and she shared that she had to clean his desk of article clippings and photos of a young girl named Tonks. Poor thing thought he was having an affair. She wasn’t around when Andromeda left for Ted.”

“So, he voted ‘no’ to protect his estranged granddaughter?”

“Makes the the more sense than him voting because he was concerned with your employment opportunities.” They chuckled.

“So what do you think did it then? What made him decide to do right by her after all this time?” Dumbledore shrugged,

“I don’t think even he could tell you. But as an old man myself I can say that my life regrets fuel my decisions today.” They let the quandary of Cygnus’ vote fall away and allowed the amicable silence settle back in. Finishing their iced teas as the sky began to dance with hues of orange and pink. When their glasses were emptied Albus took his leave, “I suppose I’ll be seeing you at the start of term; Professor Lupin.” Remus couldn’t stop the stupid smile from stretching across his face.

“Thank you, Headmaster.” And with that the old wizard disappeared with a low pop. Remus stood from the table and cleared the glasses. He hadn’t finished rinsing them out when an owl came swooping in through the open window. He recognized it as Tonks’ owl Artemis and detached the letter, filling a dish with water for the animal before opening it.

‘Moony, Boy do I have some fantastic news for you! Dinner tonight at my Parents, 7pm. Bring your party pants! x Tonks’

The smile on his face widened knowing how excited she must be over keeping her job. He checked his watch, confirming that he had half an hour to clean up for dinner. He wondered how she would react to his news in return. The newly appointed professor donned himself with his least shabbiest clothes and readied for a happy evening with friends.

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kpoptrashibnida · 4 years

Text

Enough Pt. 17

A/N: Hey everyone! New update is here! We are getting near the end and its getting intense y’all! Some of you might enjoy what happened at the end of this chapter hehehe. Anyway, as always, your feedback is always appreciated! Happy reading!

‘Please answer me. I can explain! Please, don’t end things like this, I can explain myself. I love you, please just call me back.’

There were about seventeen voicemails from Chanyeol and many texts that said essentially the same thing. He can explain, he loves me, please call me back…. Etc, etc.

You had obviously cancelled your trip to Japan upon hearing the news about Chanyeol and Arisa. You were angry at him for being weak and you were angry at yourself for believing a word that came out of his mouth. You wonder if you had slept with him before he went on the tour would have changed the fact that he cheated on you. Either way, the fact that he cheated has no excuse and he showed his true colors; he had not changed at all.

You ignored all his calls and messages because there was no point in speaking to him. There was nothing he could do or say that would rectify what he did. He couldn’t take it back and you would never take him back. If anything, you wanted nothing to do with him. He is a scumbag that does not deserve another chance.

It had been about three days since the incident and Chanyeol was calling you every single day, it seems like he did not understand what ‘leave me alone’ means. You were dreading him coming back to Seoul for the concert and you really hoped he did not try to look for you.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, not needing to think about Chanyeol. Since you cancelled your trip to Japan, you were able to start on other projects. You were working day in and day out, being the first one to get there and the last one to leave. People were still whispering but it had gotten better, especially since Jungkook was always around to ward them off and put them in their place. He was like your personal body guard and you were eternally grateful for it.

“Hey, can I come in?” Namjoon asks, tapping on your office door.

“Of course boss, my office is your office.” You smile, turning your attention from your computer to Namjoon.

“Hey, so I want to talk and see how you are doing.” He says, getting right to the point. Ah, Namjoon, always so direct.

“I’m fine.” You say, a little too quickly and that has Namjoon raising his eyebrow, not believing you at all.

“Come on. I know you, you don’t have to lie to me.” He insists gently, noticing the dark circles under your eyes.

“Look, I’m pretty sure you have heard about my break up. Well, the fact that Chanyeol cheated on me. I don’t want to talk about it, we are over and that is it. I thought he was a changed man, but he proved me wrong. That’s it, end of story.” You say, sighing from exhaustion at finally talking to someone about it.

“Yes, I have heard. But if you need some time off, please take it. I’m sure Jimin can finish the project you’re working on.” Namjoon offers but you shake your head.

“No. It’s fine, really. I’m fine.” You explain, actually meaning it. You were angry and annoyed, but you were not hurt by any means.

“You seem to be over it rather quickly. If I was you, I’d be devastated.” He points out.

“I think that I didn’t truly love him. And the time I was with him, I was anticipating the end.” You confess, expressing words that you couldn’t even express to yourself.

“Wow. Well, at least you are aware of those feelings. I’m glad you’re doing okay. But if you need some time off, please don’t hesitate to take it.” He offers, standing up to leave your office.

“Thanks Joon, I really appreciate it.” You smile, watching him leave.

_____________________

“Please answer me. I can explain! Please, don’t end things like this, I can explain myself. I love you, please just call me back.” Chanyeol says before he hangs up, leaving yet another voicemail. He could not believe what happened. He could not believe that he was stuid enough to cheat on you. After all this time trying to get you back, he ruins it for a night of passion.

The memories of that night come crashing down and he closes his eyes with a deep sigh.

After the concert there was an after party at a club in Kobe. Everyone was there celebrating another great performance and just letting loose and having fun. Everyone was drinking and dancing, all inhibitions were gone. Everyone was praising Chanyeol for his great work and he felt on top of the world at that moment. When Arisa was getting a little too friendly, he ignored it because all he could think about was you. He could not deny that she is a very beautiful girl but his heart was set on you. He kept drinking and partying, not keeping track of just how much alcohol he was consuming.

“Loey, can I ask you for a favor?” Yuta, Arisa’smanager asked as he came up to Chanyeol.

“Yeah, sure.” He answers, putting his drink away.

“Arisa is tired and wants to go to her Hotel. I need to stay to do some more networking. Would you mind taking her to her hotel on a taxi? I would greatly appreciate it.” Yuta explains.

“Oh sure. I’ll go ahead and take her to her hotel. I feel like I should call it a night too, so I’ll head to my hotel after dropping her off.” Chanyeol explains, texting Sehun to let him know he is heading to his hotel after dropping off Arisa. Chanyeol looks for Arisa and helps her outside where a cab was already waiting. He had a hard time helping her because she was extremely drunk and would not stay still. Thankfully, the cab had complimentary water bottles and he gave one to her in hopes of sobering her up.

“Okay, we are here.” Chanyeol gently nudges Arisa’s arm to get her attention. She has sobered up a bit but she is still too dizzy to move on her own.

“Channie, can you please help me to my room? I can’t walk straight.” Arisa slurs, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Oh, okay sure.” Chanyeol agrees and helps Arisa out of the cab.

“Thanks for being so nice.” She says, leaning her body up against Chanyeol.

“No, problem. Be careful.” He says, placing his hands on her shoulders in order to keep her balanced.

Arisa looks up at him and leans in, kissing Chanyeol on the lips. Chanyeol is surprised at the sudden movement and stays still, not reacting to her kiss.

“Arisa, stop.” Chanyeol says, pulling away from the kiss.

“Sorry, I just like you a lot and I got carried away.” She says, looking up into his eyes.

Chanyeol could feel his head spinning, throat closing up. The feeling of Arisa’s soft skin under his fingers was driving him crazy. Arisa took Chanyeol’s silence as agreement of her proposition and took his hand, making her way into the hotel and up to her room.

Chanyeol woke up in the morning with the sun shining on his eyes and the loud blaring of his phone next to his ear. Chanyeol groaned at the pain of his head, immobilized by the strong pounding and the shrill sound of his phone ringing was not making matters better.

Chanyeol groped around the night stand until he found the culprit of the offensive noise.

“Hello?” He says, voice dry and raspy.

“Chanyeol? Where the hell are you?” Sehun’s angry voice through the receiver made Chanyeol’s headache worse.

“What? I’m in my hotel room.” Chanyeol groaned, covering his eyes from the sunlight.

“No you’re not! I came to your room to wake you up and you’re not there.” Sehun grinds out, losing his patience with Chanyeol.

“What?!” Chanyeol sits up with a start, groaning when his head starts to pound. He looked around and felt the blood drain from his body when he saw the sleeping figure lying next to him in bed, the white sheet not doing much to conceal her bare body.

“Oh fuck.” Chanyeol whispers

“What?” Sehun asks alarmed, hoping Chanyeol wasn’t in danger or trouble.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I am at Arisa’s hotel! I stayed the night here.” Chanyeol says panicked, getting up from the bed and looking for his clothes.

“Shit!” Sehun yells, running out of the room and making his way to the lobby, hoping to catch a cab on time. “Please tell me that all you did was sleep there?” Sehun asks as he gets into the cab, followed by Chanyeol’s bodyguard.

“No, we had sex.” Chanyeol says, hastily putting on his clothes from the night before.

“Are you serious Chanyeol? Fuck. Okay, I’ll be there in five, be ready at the lobby.” Sehun instructs, hanging up the phone and closing his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

“Thanks for picking me up.” Chanyeol says as he enters the cab, followed by Sehun and his bodyguard.

“Really, Yeol? Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Sehun asks, glaring at Chanyeol.

“Look, things got carried away last night. It was all a mistake, I swear! It didn’t mean anything.” Chanyeol insisted, needing his best friend to believe him.

Sehun scoffed at Chanyeol’s pathetic attempt to excuse his behavior.

“Is that so? Do you think Noona will agree with that explanation?” Sehun hisses, wanting to throw in Chanyeol’s face the severity of his actions and what he is about to lose.

“She doesn’t need to know. This will never happen again.” Chanyeol argued, making Sehun lose his temper.

“Are you serious? You are such a motherfu-” Sehun started but was interrupted by Chanyeol’s bodyguard.

“Sir, I think you need to see this.” He said, handing over a tablet with the latest news. A photo of Chanyeol leaving Arisa’s hotel this morning followed by more incriminating photos of the pair from last night.

“Great job, really.” Sehun says, looking over at Chanyeol with so much anger that Chanyeol himself was feeling nervous. Sehun had never looked at him like that before.

Chanyeol closed his eyes and sighed in defeat, the gravity of his actions dawning on him finally. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he quickly took it out and he felt his heart drop to his stomach when he read your message.

Babe: We are done. Lose my number and get the fuck out of my life. I never want to see you again.

“You deserve it.” Sehun says, reading the message on Chanyeol’s phone.

Chanyeol cursed under his breath and closed his eyes, sighing in defeat. He knew he had messed up but he intended to make it right. He couldn’t lose you now that he’s had you.

Chanyeol was waiting to board the airplane that would take them to Sapporo for the last two shows of the Japan portion of the tour . He had called you multiple times and left many voicemails and sent many text messages but you were not answering any of them. He was desperate to talk to you before he boarded his airplane. Much to his dismay, his call went straight to voicemail, making him let out a growl of frustration.

“Please answer me. I can’t lose you, it’s all a misunderstanding. You have to believe me.” Chanyeol says into the receiver, sighing in defeat and turning his phone off, boarding the plane with Sehun and other members of his crew. Arisa was also there but she was staying away from Chanyeol and he had a feeling her manager was the cause of that.

Chanyeol closes his eyes and hopes he can get some sleep on the flight, already dreading the activities he has to do before the concert. The flight attendants have finished the safety demo and the lights have been turned off, ready for take off.

“Here.” Sehun interrupted Chanyeol’s attempt to nap.

Chanyeol opened his eyes and saw the folder Sehun was holding out to him.

“What’s this?” Chanyeol asks, opening the folder and reading the documents inside.

“As soon as we are done with this tour, I will no longer be your manager. Minseok agreed to take over as your manager. He already reviewed your contract and knows all about your upcoming schedules. It should be a smooth transition.” Sehun explains, eyeing Chanyeol for his reaction.

“What? What the hell? Why are you quitting?” Chanyeol asks, beyond confused and hurt.

“I warned you to not hurt noona. She is my friend as well. I cannot keep working for someone who does as he pleases and hurts the people that care for him. Minseok is more than capable of being your manager.” Sehun says, done with Chanyeol and his bullshit.

“Are you serious? All this because of one stupid mistake?” Chanyeol questions, not believing the lack of loyalty from his so-called best friend.

“Wow. You still fail to see the reality? This is not just a silly little mistake you can brush off and forget about. You hurt two people. You hurt noona, someone who believed you actually changed. And you also hurt Arisa because you don’t know what kind of feelings she has and you and I’m sure you’re not interested in pursuing something serious with her. I need some time away from you and I hope you can understand that.” Sehun says, finality to his tone.

Chanyeol closes his eyes and sighs once again, his life is fast going downhill.

____________________

You were sitting on your couch, staring at the blank screen of the tv. You were sitting in the dark and nursed a glass of wine. The burn of the liquid going down your throat was a great compliment to the hot tears rolling down your face. You sniffed the tears away, already tired of crying. You placed the wine glass on the coffee table and grab your blinking phone. You stared at the lit up screen and contemplated whether you should call or message the reason for your tears. You wanted to dial the number and hear his voice, but you were not ready. You knew you would lose it and break down the second you heard his voice and so you decided to not call. If you were not going to be able to be coherent and express yourself correctly, then you’d rather not call.

Getting up from the couch, you make your way to your bedroom and start to get ready for bed. You had a lot of work to do tomorrow and you did not want to be sleep deprived and tired. Closing your eyes you take a deep breath and try to relax in order to fall asleep, the wine coursing through your veins helping you.

“You seem to be in a better mood.” Jungkook points out, falling into step with you on your way to your office.

“Thanks. I feel a lot better.” You smile, actually meaning it.

“You were bummed out for a while, he doesn’t deserve it.” Jungkook nudges you and gives you his signature bunny smile.

“Thanks Kook. But I wasn’t bummed out because of Chanyeol.” You explain, entering your office and dropping your purse on your desk.

“Oh?” Jungkook lets out surprised. He closes the door behind him and makes himself comfortable on the chair across from you.

“So why were you bummed out then?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“Because I was stupid to let myself believe he changed. I ruined something precious and real for smoke and mirrors. I acted stupidly and I can never forgive myself for it. I hurt the person that means the world to me, and for what? To satisfy a man’s ego? I’ve been really stupid Jungkook. And there’s nothing I can do to fix it.” You sigh, giving your attention to your computer and trying with all your might to not cry. You did not want to do that in front of Jungkook.

“Are you talking about the guy from New York?” Jungkook asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” You whisper, holding back tears as you brought up your work email, getting ready to start working.

Jungkook was quiet for a few minutes and you forgot he was in your office until he let out a deep sigh and stood up from the chair. He made his way to you and gave you a big hug, his long arms wrapping around you and meeting right above your chest. He placed his head on the crook of your neck and squeezed you, shaking you a little.

“Noona, don’t give up. If you still love him, then reach out to him. If he loved you as much as I’m sure he did, you might still have a chance. Just make sure that it’s what you want.” He says, finally letting go of you.

You slowly turned to look at him and were oddly shy at the serious way he was looking at you.

“What makes you think he still loves me? Or that he will take me back?” You ask, voice quivering with emotion because you wanted it; you wanted it so badly that you were willing to risk it all for him. Your career, your life, your family, friends, everything. You just needed him back in your life.

“I can’t guarantee it noona. But if you still love him, it’s worth a try. If he rejects you, then you don’t have to live with the what-if’s. But if he takes you back, then you can have the thing you love the most back in your life and you win. But you won’t know unless you try.” He says with conviction, a big contrast to the silly and light-hearted Jungkook you know.

“Whoa! Since when are you so enlightened?” You tease.

“I have my moments.” He shrugs and smiles.

“Thank you Jungkook. Really, I mean it.” You give him a smile that he reciprocates before heading out, saying something about how Namjoon will beat his ass if he’s not at his post.

You laugh and shake your head, loving the silly actions of your dear friend.

You get up and head to the conference room where the manager’s meeting was going to take place. You had something very important to talk to Namjoon about.

“That about sums up the reports for this week. Everyone is doing a great job, just please remember to submit the new budget proposals by the end of the day. Anything else we need to add Mr. Kim?” Jung Hoseok, the VP, asks Namjoon as they’re wrapping up the meeting.

“Just one more announcement I forgot to mention earlier. Next week we will be having a new employee. He transferred from the Japan branch and he will be joining the PR team, he has a lot of experience and will be a great addition to our Seoul branch.” Namjoon said, everyone murmuring with curiosity.

You were not paying attention to what he just said because you were preoccupied rehearsing what you were going to tell him. You were brought to the present time when you heard the rustling of people picking up their folders and getting up. You quickly gather your belongings and follow Namjoon out of the conference room, hoping to get to him before someone else does.

“Hey Namjoon, can I speak to you for a minute?” You ask, falling into step with him.

“Hey, yeah of course. Is everything okay?” He asks, concerned about the serious look on your face.

“Yeah.” You say, not convincing him.

You enter his office and he closes the door behind you, pointing to the couch so you can take a seat.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” He asks again, hoping everything is okay.

“I would like to see if I can get next week off.” You blurt out, not wanting to chicken out.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting you to be asking for time off.

“You know how you offered me some time off if I needed it? Well, I need it. I hope the offer is still available.” You explain, hoping he would understand.

“Oh yes, of course. I’ll go ahead and submit the approval for your time off.” Namjoon said, giving you a small smile.

“Thank you Joon.” You were extremely thankful that he approved the time off. You knew he would, but the way life had been going for you lately, you had to be ready for the worst.

“You know I’m here if you ever need to talk, right?” He asks before you leave his office.

“I know,” You were so thankful he was a good friend and is always there for you. “I just have something really important I have to do.” You tell him, giving him a smile before you exit his office, more determined than ever to make things right.

______________________

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” Mina says, watching you from the kitchen as you finish packing up your suitcase.

“Why does this feel like deja vu? Don’t you have something better to do?” You ask her in mock annoyance, actually happy to have her by your side.

“Fine bitch, I’ll let you take an expensive cab to the airport.” She threatened, but you know she was bluffing.

“I’m joking. Thank you for being so willing to take me to the airport.” You say, zipping up your suitcase and placing it near your entrance.

“Of course.” Mina suddenly became serious, which wasn’t an often occurrence for her. “Are you nervous?” She asks, genuinely worried about you.

“A little. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” You confess, genuinely scared. Your stomach was in knots and you felt nauseous. But you were not going to back down, you had to do this.

“Well, let me know as soon as you land. We better get going though, you don’t want to miss your flight.” Mina says, helping you take your suitcase down to her car.

The whole ride to the airport was spent with Mina talking about all the new things Minjun had been learning to do. You were thankful for the distraction because the closer you got to the airport, the more nervous and nauseous you felt. You were not going to back down though; you were going to get on that airplane and fight for the love of your life.

Mina stopped at the drop off curb and gave you a hug before you grabbed your carry on bag and made your way into the airport. You went through the motions in auto pilot, not wanting to focus on the erratic beating of your heart. You knew that it was going to be worth it, whether it went well or not. You sat at the boarding area, waiting for boarding to start.Taking out your phone from your pocket, you debated whether you should call him or not. You wanted to, so badly, but you could not risk it. You did not want to be disappointed if he didn’t answer. The boarding had begun and you took one shaky breath, getting up from your seat and making your way to the boarding door. Thankfully, it was not a full flight and therefore you do not have anyone sitting next to you. It was going to be a very long flight and you needed all the time to rehearse what you were going to say the moment you saw the love of your life.

________________________

“Chanyeol, where the hell are you going? Stop!” Sehun screams behind Chanyeol, trying to catch up to him.

“I have to go find her. I need to speak to her.” Chanyeol yells back, determined to go straight to your work. It was Friday afternoon and he knew if he made his way straight to your job, he could still find you. He needed to speak to you and really hoped you would hear him out.

“Chanyeol, stop! You can’t do this to her! If she said she’s done with you, accept it and more on!” Sehun tried, running as fast as he could but he could not catch up to the determined Chanyeol.

Chanyeol ignored him and ran faster, finally reaching the curb. He saw a business man exiting a cab and chanyeol quickly shuffled past him and got in the cab.

“Hurry, please drive as fast as you can.” Chanyeol pleaded with the cab driver, locking the door instantly.

The driver pulled away from the curb and started the drive towards your work building, leaving an angry Sehun yelling at the retrieving cab. He could not believe how ridiculous and selfish Chanyeol can be, but he’s glad he will no longer have to deal with him after the tour is over.

Chanyeol ran out of the cab after paying and throwing a ‘thank you’ to the driver over his shoulder and sprinted into your building, hoping to catch you still at work.

He runs into the reception area and makes a beeline to the elevators; however, before he can go inside one, he is stopped by a muscular body.

“I’m sorry, you can’t go up without an appointment.” Jungkook says in a serious tone, blocking Chanyeol’s path.

“I don’t need an appointment.” Chanyeol grumbles, trying to push Jungkook out of his way.

“You do, actually. You don’t have clearance to go up to the main floor.” Juungkook tries again, slightly pushing Chanyeol back.

“What do you mean I don’t have clearance? I’ve been able to go up before without any problem.” Chanyeol insists, getting very irritated because he is not getting his way.

“Yes, well we have recently changed our security policy and you no longer have clearance.” Jungkook says with finality, really hoping that Chanyeol did not try to get in the elevator.

“Look, I am here to see-”

“I understand who you are trying to see.” Jungkook lets out aggravated, irritated by Chanyeol’s persistence. “But she is not here and she made it clear you no longer have clearance for this building. Please leave before I call security to have you escorted.”

Chanyeol stares down Jungkook, completely shocked that you went to such lengths.

“Where is she?” He asks, voice hoarse. He could not believe what he was hearing.

“I cannot disclose that information.” Jungkook scoffs, not believing that this man in front if him was asking such stupid questions.

Chanyeol scoffs and turns to leave the building, thinking of what to do next. He calls your phone and hopes you answer because he is slowly going insane. He has an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu and he does not like it one bit. He gets in another cab and tells him the address of the next place he intends to look for you.

Chanyeol walks up the walkway of the house he hopes you’re at. He wanted to go to your apartment but he wanted that to be his last option. He rang the doorbell and hoped you were here because he felt like he was on the brink of losing it.

“Oh. What are you doing here?” Suho asked surprised, keeping his voice down.

“Is she here?” Chanyeol asked, getting straight to the point.

“No she is not. Please leave.” Suho presses, lowering his voice even further.

“Are you sure? You’re not lying, are you?” Chanyeol insisted, not believing that his friend is being truthful.

“Yes I’m sure. Look, you can’t be-”

Chanyeol pushed past Suho and entered his home in a haste, ignoring the ‘come back’ he heard Suho yell.

He came into the living room expecting to see you with Mina, but much to his dismay, it was only Mina there.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mina asked with hostility, not liking the fact that Chanyeol was in her house.

“Where is she? I know she’s here.” Chanyeol said, looking around the house, expecting to see you emerge from the bathroom.

“You have no fucking right to ask about her. YOU cheated on HER, or do you not fucking remember that?!” Mina yelled, enraged that this giant idiot had the audacity to come into her home and demand your whereabouts.

“I need to speak to her, I need to explain what happened.” Chanyeol insisted, annoyed that he was getting backlash for trying to be a decent person.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Mina felt like she was going to rupture a blood vessel with the amount of anger she was feeling at that moment.

“I Have to speak to her!” Chanyeol lost it and raised his voice to Mina, which was a huge mistake.

He did not see it coming, but he should have because raising his voice was not the brightest choice. Mina slapped him across the face, stunning him in silence.

“That is for being a coward and cheating on my best friend.” Mina started before taking a deep breath and slapping Chanyeol again, feeling satisfaction when her hand connected with his face and he flinched away, still stunned in silence.

“And that is for coming to my house and disrespecting me.” Mina was breathing very hard and was trying to control her anger, so she wouldn’t hit him again no matter how much she wanted to.

Chanyeol was saved by the fact that you could hear the faint cries of Minjun coming from his bedroom; surely woken up from his nap due to the yelling and commotion coming from the living room.

“You better be gone by the time I’m back. If not, I fucking swear I’ll kill you Chanyeol. I’m not fucking joking. You better leave.” Mina threatened, actually scaring Chanyeol because he knew she was being serious.

Chanyeol still stood in stunned silence, eyes watering as his face was still stinging from the slaps he received.

“Hey, please leave.” Suho finally came over to him, slightly nudging him towards the entrance.

Suho was ready to step in when Chanyeol raised his voice at Mina, but decided against it when he saw her slap him. Truth be told, Suho wanted to punch Chanyeol too, for hurting you and for thinking he could invade their personal space. But he was glad his wife did it because he didn’t want to bruise his face during the middle of his tour, no matter how much he deserved it.

“Okay.” Chanyeol said in defeat, exiting his friend's house.

Suho did feel a little bad for him, but nothing can excuse his horrible behavior.

“Do you know where she is?” Chanyeol asks once outside Suho’s house.

Suho debated whether or not he should tell him, but he figured that he needed to know in order to get closure.

“Yeah. She is back in the states.” Suho tells him, watching his reaction.

“Oh.” Chanyeol’s shoulders slumped in defeat, already knowing the reason you were back in the states.

“Okay, well, I’m sorry you had to deal with me tonight.” Chanyeol says, already leaving his friend’s property and calling for a cab.

He feels a tear roll down his face as the cab passes the familiar streets on the way to Chanyeol’s apartment. He knows that you went to look for that Jaehyun guy. He always had a feeling that you were not completely over him and this just proves him right. He can’t believe he lost you because of his stupidity and carnal needs. Now you were gone and he most likely lost you forever.

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anastasiaenache003 · 4 years

Text

It’s all about the magic of the moment...

A/N: Hello there! This is my first post ever on Tumblr, and it’s also a fanfiction, more precisely an entry for #johnicaweek2021 , organised by the specatcular @eileen-crys :) I really hope that I managed to picture in the best way possible the tender relationship that John and Ronnie have. Enjoy!

My Instagram account: @anastasia.enake ( just in case)

Johnica Week day 5- “Memories” and “Nowadays”

Word count: 3087

It was the New Year’s Eve of 2021. The fireworks were now heard somewhere in the distance, with people rejoicing the last moments of a magical night. The whole house on an empty London street has gone quiet; it was dark, only the streetlights’ pale light making its way through the half-open curtains and the only sound that could be heard was the slight, almost intangible crinkling of the wood in the fireplace. On the second floor, behind the closed bedroom doors, the house’s habitants were seeing sweet dreams. Some of them were dreaming about the presents they would get in the morning; some were dreaming about the little holiday they were all going to go on for a couple of days.

The master bedroom, however, was empty. Or, to be more precise, it has been “relocated” into the living room. There were, sleeping on a comfy sofa beside the fireplace, covered in a huge and warm blanket, two old people, a man embracing his wife. On the coffee table in front of them was laying a very old and dusty photo album, which has been left open on a blank page, probably because someone had accidentally turned two pages at once. Or not?...

New Year’s Eve, 1971

“John, where’s the champagne? I thought you had bought it already?” questioned Mary as she greeted the young man in the doorway.

“I’m truly sorry, but I can’t believe that literally NO SHOP was open today in our area”, sighed John as he took off his coat. “It looks like there’s a conspiracy theory or whatsoever, I swear!”

From somewhere in the kitchen popped out a big black-haired head. “Don’t worry, darling, I made sure we would drink as much champagne as possible tonight!” Freddie gave his most flamboyant smile towards the guest. “Please, feel welcome! Mary, would you be so nice to introduce Deaky to our guests?” he added nonchalantly before disappearing in the kitchen.

As sweet and gentle as she was, Mary took his hand and led the way into the big living room where you could already hear the chattering. Freddie has always been keen on spending every holiday in the best way possible, be it Christmas, Easter or even his birthday (he was not modest at all). This year’s New Year celebration, as he and his other three friends formed the group “Queen” and already began on working for an eventual debut album, had to be very special. And extravagant nonetheless. Not that he gathered all London town’s population in his tiny apartment (although he would’ve loved to), but a close circle of good people who knew how to have fun was always welcomed.

When Mary and John entered the living room, John felt a little bit uncomfortable as all eyes were on him instantly. Truth be told, he didn’t enjoy that much big companies, but felt that this evening meant so much for the other three guys, especially for Fred, that he tried his best not to look or sound not at ease. People were approaching him and tried to engage him into different conversations, about music, books or whatever topic was popular at the moment and soon, John’s shyness melted away. As she made sure that everything was alright with the new guest, Mary glanced quickly over the people who were already in the room. She smiled to herself and then disappeared in the hallway.

The party was delightful, in every sense of the word. Soon arrived Brian and brought a whole packet of fortune cookies, “for entertaining purposes”, of course. “What is New Year’s Eve without fortune-telling?” he wondered surprised as Roger, who wasn’t into all kinds of “children games”, took the packet from his hand and gave it a discontent look. “Bri, I know you’re a very kind and wise man, but WHO ON EARTH reads fortune papers on New Year’s Eve? Be serious, no one’s interested in those and-!”. “Nice to meet you too, Rog”, smiled Brian as he shook the snow off his clothes and fluffy hair.” If you wanted us to play games, then we should’ve done “Truth or Dare”, complained Roger,” AND it’s far more interesting, at-”. He was suddenly cut off by Freddie’s yelling from the kitchen:” Not all of us are interested in THAT kind of games, Rog! Let the guy come in and enjoy the party! It’s all about magic tonight, and not about what you had in mind!”

The last phrase was said louder than the previous two, as a few people wandered curiously in the hallway to see what was happening, but soon got back to the rest of the party. Roger rolled his eyes and helped Brian to take his fur coat and scarf off, mumbling something to himself. “Don’t worry, Rog”, Brian teased him, “I guarantee that you’ll have great fun tonight!”. “Pinky promise!” he burst out laughing, not really trying to control himself. “Fuck off!” Roger shot him an annoyed look and punched him slightly in the ribs, but also couldn’t constrain a toothy smile. The two then hurried int the living room where they were welcomed by a burst of applauses and cheesy jokes. Now, the party must have truly begun.

It was already half past eleven when the doorbell rang, to a big surprise for some guests. As neither Freddie, nor Mary, were to be seen to be going to open the door, John has offered himself to do it.

When he opened the big wooden door, in front of him was standing a young woman, a very good-looking woman, dressed in a white fur coat and a white hat. Around her neck she was wearing a bright reddish scarf which was definitely pointing out her elegant look. In her hands, he noticed a few little present bags with lots of different velvet boxes inside, which he immediately offered to help with. But as she lifted her eyes to thank him and to meet his gaze, he stopped abruptly and stared in that astonishing sparkling pair of hazel eyes. His mouth fell open in awe as the mysterious guest slightly shook his shoulder. “Excuse me, sir, are you alright? You look… a bit lost” she spoke and John could swear that the tone of her voice was sending shivers down his spine. It was so soothing, calm and sweet at the same time that his heart began beating faster. He hardly found his words and whispered: “Um… no, thank you… In fact, … I… You… You should come inside, it’s already twenty minutes to midnight and it’s freezing here…” he finally found the force to speak properly as he welcomed the young lady inside.

As he helped her with her clothes and bags, Mary appeared in the long hallway. “Is everything alright with you two?” she wondered grinning at the couple. “Yes, Mary, thank you! This young man has come to help me, we shall come in about 5 minutes to you, guys! Open the champagne!” reassured her the new guest. Mary lifted her brow at what she was witnessing, but then decided not to disturb the two and quickly made her way in the main room.

When John carefully took the coat off the lady’s shoulders and helped her with unwinding the scarf, she stood in front of him in full height. John’s eyes were glued in the very next moment to her appearance. She seemed to be rather shorter than him, considering that she was wearing heels too. Underneath the coat was hiding a splendid tea-length long-sleeved silky dark-red dress with fine dark embroidery on the hem and on the collar. He took in every inch of her astonishing look, especially of what he later considered to be her most precious jewel- her bright hazel eyes, whose shade differed from caramel to apple-green in the light of the lamp.

“You look…” he began, unable to find the right words to describe her otherworldly beauty. “How do I look?” she questioned, smiling widely, which made it even more difficult for John to talk. “You… You look breathtaking!” he witnessed, more to himself, not completely trusting his voice and emotions. At his confession, a tint of blush covered her already rosy from cold cheeks. “I must be honored to receive a compliment from a gentleman like you, then” she bowed her head in response. The sound of her softly spoken voice made him smile in return. “The others are waiting for us; I think we shall go…” she whispered nodding towards the door leading to the living room. Without any further explanation, John offered his hand to the young woman. She accepted it gladly, putting her tiny hand in his and together they walked into the crowdy room. This wasn’t left unnoticed by Mary, who was sitting at the big table next to Freddie and Brian.

As the couple appeared in the doorway, someone poured them a glass of champagne for each, as Mary raised hers for a toast:” My dear friends! Here we are, 15 minutes before celebrating the New Year of 1972! This year has been a tough one, not gonna lie. It had a lot of difficult situations which we are bravely over now. Still, 1971 has brought some delights in our lives, which I will be eternally grateful for. This year has seen the beginning “, she then looked at Freddie and the rest of the band, “of a new musical group, “Queen”! These four guys, who were not afraid to start a band, made their first steps into the big music industry and I hope that, in a year or two, we shall all be hearing their brand-new album storming the charts! Cheers to that!” she cried happily as everybody stood up and clinked their glasses. “Let me have my little word here too, my dear!” exclaimed Freddie, hugging Mary from behind. “I just want to wish you, to all of you, that the new 1972 brings you what you desire the most in your lives, be it love, new friends, money or whatsoever! In other words, peace and love to all of you! Cheers!” he joked and raised his glass, much to the joyful laughs of their guests.

All this time, John couldn’t take his eyes of the mysterious lady who was, much to his pleasure, sitting on his right hand. As Freddie finished saying his toast, John raised his glass to her and whispered so quietly so that only she could hear him:” Happy New Year?”. “Happy New Year!” she responded, leaving a peck on his cheek. John felt vulnerable under her tender gaze. He must know what her name was. It was a matter of life and death. Maybe he wanted to ask her that question, but was interrupted by the joyful cries of the guests who were glued to the clock on the wall- 1 minute and 30 seconds until the new year of 1972. “Open the balcony! NOW!” shouted Roger, desperate to watch the fireworks invading the city’s night sky. Even at 22, he still remained that little child who loved the New Year’s Eve. Who didn’t, though?

The whole party started to crowd the small balcony of Fred’s apartment, waiting impatiently for the show to begin. “Follow me”, the lady leaned and whispered in John’s ear, “I know a better place to watch them.” Making their way through the crowd, the couple got dressed really fast and stormed out of the apartment, giggling. “We must use the fire escape, but quickly!” she added and started to climb it, careful not to slip on the icy stairs. John followed her immediately, paying attention to her movements.

As they got on top of the roof, the fireworks were already blasting in full force, coloring the sky in the colors of the rainbow. London town was glowing. It was a breathtaking view, perfect to spend the New Year’s Eve with someone special. “I’m Veronica Tetzlaff, by the way. But you can call me Ronnie…” she whispered as they were standing close to each other, still holding hands. “Happy New Year, Ronnie” he turned to face her beautiful eyes. “My name’s John Deacon, or Deaky, as the others call me” he smirked. “May I hug you, Ronnie Tetzlaff?”. “Please”, she smiled,” Happy New Year, John Deacon!” her voice now muffled in his shoulder. Behind them, the whole world was celebrating the new upcoming year of 1972. However, a new tiny world has been created, and it was now growing at the speed of light between the two young people.

“Can I ask you one more question, Ronnie?”.

“Yes, John. Ask me anything. I like the way your voice sounds when you talk, really…” she giggled, looking up to meet his gaze and his beautiful smile.

“It might sound too bold from me, and considering that we’ve only knew each other for less than half an hour…” he started, but she cut him off. “Really? I thought I have known you for a whole lifetime…”. At her words, John’s heart skipped a beat. Truth be told, he had heard talking about two people being soulmates. But he never thought he would be able to find his, and that fast, and on such a special night.

“Ronnie, I… May I kiss you?” he breathed out shakily, his face just a few inches away from hers. He could see the fireworks’ reflection in her eyes, which made them even more spectacular to look at. She didn’t say anything, just slowly nodded and smiled gently at him. The next moment he carefully took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. Her lips were as soft as a rose petal and felt perfectly matched for his. He moved his hands to her middle and hugged her tightly while she embraced his shoulders. If there was Heaven on Earth, that particular moment could represent it in the best way possible. However, not shortly after, he noticed that she was sobbing quietly in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Ronnie, I shouldn’t have gone that far- “he quickly started to apologize to her, but she gently stopped him. “Silly, I’m crying because I’m the happiest person in the world! Everything is perfect. You’re perfect” she kissed him back as a confirmation of her words. Freddie was right, the new 1972 has definitely brought something that they both desired in their lives- a true and profound love, which would last over the years, in happiness and grief…

When they returned back in the apartment, it seemed that, curiously, nobody has even noticed their absence. However, as soon as they stepped into the warm hall, they were greeted with a flash of a camera. “Roger! Maybe should’ve waited for us to look more presentable!” John half-shouted, half-laughed. “It’s all about the magic of the moment, so shut up! Plus, you look very presentable nonetheless. I’m talking about you, beautiful young lady. What about you, my fine friend…” teased Roger before receiving a punch in the shoulder from John. “Okay, problems aside, let’s celebrate! It’s the New Year!” giggled Veronica, taking both boys’ hands and running in the living room where the others were cheering and celebrating loudly. Happy New Year 1972…

Everything was just fine, exactly how it should be…

“Do you think it will work out for them?” Mary wondered as Freddie helped her washing the dishes. The apartment was now empty and only the confetti hanging from the chandeliers were bringing back the memories of an unforgettable night. “God knows… But I’m sure they found each other interesting, even at first sight. Do you agree, my dear?”. Mary just smiled to herself. “I hope so…” she added nonchalantly…

The first morning of the new year is always a special morning. The kids always hurry to get their presents under the decorated tree, whereas their parents and grandparents exchange secret knowing smiles and enjoy the happiness and the delight of the little ones.

The old couple sleeping on the sofa woke up before anyone else in the house. “Seems that we fell asleep here” the old woman yawned. “Good morning, beautiful” the old man turned to face her. Her hazel eyes were exactly the same as in that very morning, 50 years ago. Nothing had changed in their beauty. “Young man, you’re staring. How bold of you!” the woman added laughing. The man caressed her cheek, still admiring her eyes that caught his attention a long time ago and hadn’t let him go ever since. “You’re still as breathtaking as on that New Year’s Eve, my love. Happy New Year, Ronnie” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “Happy New Year, John!” she sighed, a feeling of perfect harmony growing in her chest. A couple of cheerful cries were approaching the living room. “Be prepared for the attack!” she laughed before sitting up and greeting her ten grand-children with a warm embrace. “Happy New Year, grandma and grandpa!” they cried in unison. “Happy New Year, our darlings, our sweet-hearts! Now go and open your presents. They’ve been waiting for you all the morning!” she advised them as she and John watched them go and rip off the packages impatiently and with stars in their eyes.

“Grandpa?” asked the youngest one, Mary, “shall we put another photo in your album? I’ll bring the camera, if you want to”. “Hurry up, then, my dear, and please wake up your parents and the rest” John told her warmly as the girl ran upstairs in her room. Soon, she returned with the whole bunch of parents and a camera in her hands. “Now”, she began enthusiastically, “everybody, gather round the tree and I’ll take a family photo. I said NOW, Richard!” she yelled at her older brother who seemed not to like the idea, but obeyed anyway. The whole family, still sleepy from the last night’s celebrations, came together smiling round the decorated tree, with the old couple being in the center of the group. “And now”, the girl warned as she fixed the camera on the tripod and quickly ran and stood at the side of the group so she would appear in the picture as well, “say CHEESE!” and pushed the camera button. The Polaroid came out instantly and showed a happy family on a New Year’s magical morning. A great picture for a photo-album. “It’s all about the magic of the moment” remembered Ronnie and saw John tearing up a little. “Yeah, it’s all about the magic of the moment…”

#johnicaweek2021 #john deacon #veronica tetzlaff #queen fluff #queen fanfiction #newyearseve

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only-here-for-jatp · 4 years

Text

Build-a-Band pt 7 The End

Just me tying up loose ends

Featuring: WILLEX <3, the boys playing with their bears like they’re seven, Juke, hotdogs

As always you can read on Ao3 here

But also below! ~2300 words

The boys poofed back to the studio hearts as full as their arms full of stuffed bears.

Luke and Alex were both jittery with anxiety. Luke hadn’t seen Julie hug her bear, but he also hadn’t seen her not hug her bear and he was growing very concerned at the prospect of when or if she’d hear the lyrics he’d poured into the heart. He hadn’t meant to offer a confession, hadn’t meant to reveal his feelings so blatantly.

What if she didn’t like the song? What if she didn’t like him? What if she didn’t get it and he was stuck in this nightmare limbo waiting for her to realize as she kept hugging and hugging the bear that they lyrics were about her???

Yup he was a ball of anxiety, but at least he wasn’t alone.

Every now and again Alex would shift onto the balls of his feet and then back down. His mind zipping down very similar avenues to Luke. He’d impulsively made a bear for Willie but what if Willie thought it was dorky and lame? Was it weird for a not-dating person to give another a teddy bear? What if he heard the message and didn’t feel the same way?

I mean. Alex was pretty sure Willie liked him? But the more and more it went around in his head the less sure he was that he was interpreting Willie’s actions correctly. I mean they could just be friends?

Reggie quietly noted his friends’ anxiety and while he had no idea why it was happening; he knew a surefire way to cheer them up. Luckily, it was also one of the things he was best at, distraction.

He held up Sir Reginald II, a name he loved and adored since it meant Julie remembered his story about Sir Reginald I, and in his best teddy bear voice ( which mostly turned out to be a weird falsetto) said “Hello there!”

Both anxiety ridden boys eyed him warily and Reggie took this as permission to move Sir Reginald II verrrryyy close to Luke’s face. “Have you seen my friend Lukas? He’s late for band practice.” Luke’s eyes widened and glanced between Reggie and Sir Reginald II as Alex let out a snicker. “Wellllll? Have you seen him?”

Luke let out a sigh, knowing Reggie wasn’t going to let him out of this. He pulled Lukas up in front of his face and mimicking Reggie’s voice as best he could responded. “Sorry Reginald. I didn’t mean to run late.” At this point Alex was nearly doubled over with silent laughter. The sight of Reggie’s face all lit up though made Luke warm inside and suddenly he knew their next move. He raised an eyebrow at Alex who discovered too late what Luke was planning.

Luke bounded over, put Lukas right into Alex’s face and asked “Have you seen my friend Alexander? I’ve been looking all over for him.”

Alex slowly backed away “I’m not doing this.”

A quick exchange of glances brought Reggie on board with Luke’s plan and soon Reginald and Lukas were chasing Alex around the study asking and asking about Alexander their best friend. It wasn’t until Alex tripped, falling onto the bed where Alexander lay (tucked in no less) that he gave in. He pulled Alexander out and in the same falsetto his bandmates used called “Who disturbed my nap!”

The three boys grinned and thus they were off. They spent the rest of the day pretending with their new stuffies, reliving favorite moments of their life or pretending to play major stages around the world. They even took turns pretending to be Julie and reenacting some of their favorite moments with her.

In fact, the trio was having so much fun that Alex had forgotten about promising to meet Willie, who after waiting and growing concerned came looking for him. Willie stayed out of sight for as long as he could, watching the blonde-haired boy who he wanted to be around every second of every day laughed and joked with his brothers. Willie could feel the smile growing on his face at the sight of these three rock band boys kneeling on the ground miming arms and leg movements of stuffed bears while playing out scenes in funny voices.

However, his spying was up after Reginald and Lukas ganged up on Alexander (he’d long since figured out the names) in a hug pile and he burst into laughter.

All three boys heads whipped around suddenly very shy and sheepish at the thought that someone had been watching their antics over the last couple of hours. Alex turned nearly bright red, stammering out excuse after excuse for missing their plans and finding Willie here.

Willie turned to Alex with a soft smile. “Oh hotdog. You missed our plans AND y’all made bears for everyone except me and are having all this fun? My feelings are hurt.” He couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Alex just a little. After all, he was incredibly adorable when flustered.

Luke and Reggie glanced at each other smiles growing wide as Alex grew even redder and began mumbling under his breath. In a move to both help and tease him, Luke and Reggie called out “Hey Alex, what is that you’re mumbling? Maybe you should say it louder.”

Willie tilted his head to the side in confusion as Alex took a deep breath and plucked up the courage to speak just a little louder. It was still barely audible, but Willie still caught it.

“I made you a bear”

Willie thought his heart was going to burst. He’d seen the bear-ified version of the band but as he glanced around the room he noticed a bear in a skater outfit off to the side. “You made me a bear?” Willie knew his voice was soft and he knew Alex liked him, but to include him in this little family of bears meant so much. He slowly moved toward the stuffie which had his signature tie dye and skateboard.

Alex began to ramble as Willie began a dedicated perusal of the bear. “I know it’s kind of lame, but I kept walking past it and it has two hearts sewn onto his chest and I don’t know something about its face reminded me of you and yeah it’s lame, you don’t have to keep it….”

Willie burst in. “No. I- I love it. Is it alright if he lives here though? I don’t want…”

“No, no, yeah totally.”

Willie’s head sprang up to look at Alex all of a sudden and a signature mischievous smirk filled his face. “Wait a second. You said there were two hearts sewn into the chest. Why would that remind you of me?”

Alex’s eyes widened as he shot looks to Reggie and Luke who had settled quite comfortably on the couch, bears in their laps to enjoy the show. They offered him an encouraging smile and a couple of nods. Alex gulped, took a deep breath and said as confidently as he could “It seemed kind of poetic. Since you.. uh… kind of… hold mine?” He hadn’t really managed for it to come out as a question, but he’d started to wince as if preparing for a negative reaction from Willie.

Instead, Willie wrapped himself around Alex in a fierce hug, never letting go of William. “You hold mine too Alex.”

Alex being too surprised, didn’t hug back right away, but with a squeaky “wait really??” he hugged on so tight that if either of them needed to breathe, they would probably be worrying about it. The two had started to jump around a little making happy noises while Reggie and Luke beamed.

The hug had barely broken apart when Julie joined them in the studio with a questioning look, but before anyone could say anything Alex burst out “I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!!” before shooting nervous glances at Willie “I mean, if you want.”

Willie chuckled, “Definitely”

Alex couldn’t stop smiling, but of course now was when he remembered “You should hug William. When I hugged Alexander I could hear the wish Reggie made for me and I uh, may have left you one too.”

Willie looked slightly confused, but sure enough when he squeezed William the Sk8 Bear tightly Alex’s voice whispered in his mind.

I wish for an eternity to hold your hand.

Willie seemed to melt a little, before he entwined his hands with Alex’s. “For eternity” he whispered just loud enough for Alex to hear. They both blushed, but everyone else mostly looked confused.

Luke was the first to speak up. “I also heard Reggie’s wish when I squeezed Lukas.”

Reggie looked entirely confused. “You could hear… my wishes? That’s awesome!!! But also, you couldn’t hear Julie’s?” Alex and Luke both shot a look at Reggie. “She made wishes on both your hearts also, but you didn’t hear hers?”

Julie’s face was growing slightly pale. She hadn’t realized they could hear those wishes. The thought of Luke hearing those lyrics was maybe making her panic a little, but maybe since he hadn’t heard them yet he wouldn’t. It helped her fear a little that there was some overwhelming curiosity about the wish Luke left for her.

Alex’s voice cut through her questioning. “You know, I only tried the one time.” Luke sounded an agreement before Reggie cut in.

“You know it’s kind of cool if you think about it, she ended up leaving a wish on all our bears. Maybe we should try together to hear it?” The boys nodded as Julie watched with concern.

Alex’s face changed first. A small gasp echoing out of him and his eyes pooling with tears as he rushed towards Julie to envelop her in a hug. She’d made him feel seen and valued and the reassurance that he had a special and unique existence to her was a security he hadn’t realized he needed.

Reggie hugged his bear two or three times just listening to the message she’d left him over and over again.

Sir Reginald II please take care of Reggie. Sometimes he doesn’t realize how important he is. He’s the glue that holds us all together and keeps us going when everything seems bleak. He is so loved and so valuable. Please remind him of that when everything seems hard.

Reggie glomped her next. Crying just a little at the words she left him which touched on his biggest and darkest insecurity. He could help but whisper his thanks and she pulled him tighter telling him that he was basically her brother. Reggie could no longer tell if he was laughing or sobbing everything was perfect.

Julie was having difficulty holding up the two emotional boys and she was filled with warmth at their love almost as much as she was filled with tension. She could barely see Luke which meant she couldn’t see his reaction.

Luke was having difficulty breathing and functioning. He didn’t need to breathe but now he couldn’t do it and he really felt like he needed to do it. He couldn’t-

He couldn’t believe it.

We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony

She’d poured the same song, the same words, the same wish into his bear as he had into hers. Julie Molina loved him. He had absolute verifiable proof and he didn’t want to waste another second without her. Without her knowing that she was the most precious, wonderful, thing about his life. So he did the only reasonable thing he could.

He yanked his crying brothers off of the girl they also loved more than anything, but not as much as him and worked on gaining her attention. He smiled. She looked slightly terrified, but she didn’t have to be. She just need to hug Jules.

“Julie. Julie. Julie. Julie! You need to hug Jules. Right now. You need to hug her right now. RIGHT NOW.”

His boys looked pissed, but slowly they could tell by the rush and joyous mania radiating from their friend that this was Important and begrudgingly stood out of the way.

Julie looked at Luke with big eyes as he insistently shoved Jules at her. He seemed excited and thrilled and flushed and by god if he didn’t stop rushing her she was going to-

We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony

The song filtered through her head as she hugged Jules and she felt her mouth drop as her eyes snapped to his. She watched his grin widen as he saw her figured it out. Her eyes met his and she was drowning. He was too far away and they both rushed into each other. They took another second to stare before wrapping each other in a tight hug.

Alex groaned a little, in a good-natured way, his hand once more linked with Willie’s. “Not that we’re not glad that you both finally got your lives together, but do either of you care to explain what exactly just happened?”

Slowly Luke and Julie moved out of hugging, but they still hovered around each other with their hands intertwined as they explained. They took turns explaining that somehow, someway, they’d left the same wish in each other’s bear. More than that, they were the same lyrics from the same love song they’d written without telling the other.

The shocked faces on all cause Luke and Julie to burst into laughter and soon all five of them were falling together into a hug. Julie carried one more surprise though in her back pocket. Slowly she pulled out three hotdog accessories for their new Build a Bears.

The boys looked at her with shock and horror as she grinned sheepishly at them.

“I couldn’t resist!”

They spent the afternoon playing with Jules, Lukas, Reginald, Alex and William. Then, when the time came for sleep, they couldn’t bear to leave each other so four ghosts, one human, and 5 teddy bear fell asleep in a pile of warmth and love.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #Build a band

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