#also this my dearest friend go follow them or I will blow up the building 🤗

[nyaitsu-writes]

✧ koga, rei, shu | halloween part 2! ✧

and here we are on part 2 of my extremely self indulgent halloween hcs series! this time it goes over 1.6k words because i got a little too motivated oops also happy late birthday shu! i featured some mika here too because,, valkyrie is a family, okay?  (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

REI SAKUMA;

✦ once again, rei’s connections blow your mind as you find out his “halloween date” for this year: he’s taking you to a haunted manor. no, not one of those haunted house attractions, i mean he somehow managed to find an old victorian mansion that is most definitely haunted for you to spend your halloween night. together. just the two of you. romantic, isn’t it?（￣︶￣） 

✦ for it is all hallow’s eve! the one and only night in the year where monsters such as himself are allowed to roam freely outside of their world, trying to charm innocent little humans like you. fufufu it’ll be especially bad if you fall for his vampiric charm today but… can you even resist him? worry not, he will be especially charming just for you~

✦ the old part of the house definitely adds a bit to the fun! you’ll have to go upstairs to explore the building, chandelier on hand and. wait. what was that? it’s probably just the wind but… rei starts remembering an old story the owner of the house told him, an old family friend. see, there used to be a couple that lived in this house, just about your age. rumour says he was a vampire and he convinced his lover to join him in the afterlife by turning them into a vampire…. ah, what do you mean he got closer? no he didn’t, dearest, that’s just you~

✦ following that, rei can see surprisingly well in the darkness and he is going to take that to his own personal advantage. just as he keeps telling his story, his hands are quick to get you pinned against the wall. wouldn’t you want to do that? to become one of his own? to spend eternity and beyond by his side? his voice is soft and alluring, red eyes sparkling under the moonlight with a hint of mischief just so you know he’s teasing… maybe (*/ω＼*) or maybe he’s saying the truth, only rei will know!

✦ worry not! it will probably just end in a soft kiss on your neck, seeing as your legs have gotten weaker and your face is all red. just a soft, innocent little kiss in your neck, nothing else... he will complain in a whisper about how you’re the one teasing him here, looking always so cute and tempting… he really really wants to take a bite after all…~ but he’ll do his best to be a nice gentleman just for you, okay?

✦ ignoring that little scare, rei’s teasing for the rest of the night is really nice and soft. after exploring the mansion from top to bottom, you end up crashing on the huge and fluffy bed of the main room, with a very happy rei cuddling you. i’m afraid that’s payback for having to be a good boy for so long, he’ll need some midnight cuddles (*´꒳`*) after all, he’s more active at night and doesn’t want to go to bed so soon… 

✦ just holding you between his arms is enough, whispering sweet secrets into your ear about just how much he loves you. about how happy he is that you decided to accompany him to this little improvised trip. when you get married, should you buy this house together~? teasing, teasing, there’s a long while until that! but you’ll stay by his side forever, vampire or not, right? yeah. even with your eyes closed, you can feel his smile as you nod against his chest. he is just so genuinely happy to have you next to him <3

KOGA OOGAMI;

✦ surprise surprise: koga does enjoy halloween quite a bit! yeah the kids running around asking for sweets every so often can get a bit annoying sometimes but it’s actually kiiiind of fun, not like he’ll admit it. it’s more about the vibes, you know?

✦ i can see you two walking leon together! since koga didn’t want to wear a costume because “he’s not a kid!” you went all out and made some cute devil horns for leon,, he looks so cute. it’s not your fault if you can’t help but pamper such a good boy? give him lots and lots of smooches!

✦ aaaand it took koga a few 15 seconds to accept the costume thing. a brand new record! we’ll see about a full costume but for now he’ll accept some cool wolf ears. wolf ears. don’t you mistake them with a dog’s or he’ll get offended. may i suggest matching wolf/cats ears for you two? while walking devil!Leon? absolutely adorable! ( ⁎ᵕᴗᵕ⁎）

✦ we all know that koga is extremely popular with puppies but believe me when i say that he is with kids too. all these cute little devils, witches and vampires  surrounding him, asking to pat leon and him. those ears you made looked so soft that the kids thought it was the real thing,, you’ll have to hold your laughter as koga grumbles and pulls down, letting them pat his head and leon’s.

✦ “mr werewolf is so cool!” it takes koga some seconds to realize what they said. they called him cool. not cute, not adorable, not a dog. they called him a werewolf. well, it’s close enough to a wolf! it works good enough for him! watch him boast around, a proud smirk on his face. maybe the whole dressing up thing is more fun than he thought! be prepared to get koga grinning for the rest of the night~

✦ after some time walking around you ended up giving in and buying some candy to share with koga. picture this! the park at night, you two snacking together while you play with leon, who is having the time of his life. koga won’t really say that he likes candy but… he does. especially if you bought it for him and you get to eat it next to each other while making some small talk. be careful with the food though! there will come a time where there will be one single piece left… and koga ain’t giving up so easily. survival of the fittest! or how you and your werewolf boyfriend ended up rolling around the grass past 12 am on halloween night, play fighting over a candy. ahhh such a sweet love isn’t it? ╰(*°▽°*)╯

SHU ITSUKI;

✦ halloween is right after his birthday so it is some sort of special date for shu. if you let him, he’ll probably go on a rant about how people nowadays don’t even know what halloween originally stood for and how the fashion is utterly devastating. where are the handmade pieces? the love, the care? shu has some beef with the fast fashion industry but that’s an entirely different issue.

✦ if you ask him, he will sew the most wonderful outfit you’ve seen in your entire life. nope, i’m not calling that costume: it’s so delicate and so detailed you might even get second thoughts about whether it’s a good idea to wear it outside, afraid that something will break. but you only need to look at shu’s slight but proud smile as he sees you wearing one of his creations. now is when you need to ask him to keep you company for the day, because you’d be in trouble if, say, one of the buttons were to fall, right? you only need to ask, shu won’t be able to resist your cute plead ╰(￣ω￣ｏ)

✦ back to halloween! shu will suggest a soft afternoon together, inviting you to stay at his house for the day. warm drinks, tea and a good book as you sit in front of the fireplace? autumn is definitely shu’s season: he knows exactly what to do to make you feel cozy and comfortable. if he’s feeling especially adventurous he’ll let you rest against his shoulder and will even offer to read to you. the fact that he’s willing to show you that gentle softness says so much about how he cares about you… he could say so much but never says enough, i’m afraid!

✦ anyways, halloween in the itsuki household means shu tries to enjoy a quiet day and mika is extremely excited about everything so he tags along… in his own personal way. you’ll probably end up dragged into an extreme sweet making afternoon because no, shu refuses to accept that those things they sell at stores are proper sweets. no, he’s making them himself. and mika and you are helping him out,, you’ll end the day with some extremely pretty cupcakes, the kind that looks too pretty to eat. believe me, shu is crazyfully talented at everything he does and that includes baking too!

✦ pspsps as soon as mika turns around to do something i say you should let shu try his cute little creations. just pick up one of the cupcakes and feed it to him? i promise his reaction will be worth it (●ˇ∀ˇ●) his eyes widen slightly and there’s a pink shade all over his cheeks. you are feeding him? u-utterly foolish, by all means it should be the other way around!

✦ and yet you won’t hear a single complaint from his lips. talking about lips, cream is kind of messy! so you are definitely allowed to wipe the corner of his mouth with your finger. extra kudos if you decide to lick your finger afterwards. shu.exe stopped working. by the time mika comes back, shu is extremely flushed, his heart beating fast as he tries to hide his own lips under his hand. that. t-that was! ohhhh his poor heart can’t take this. he’ll be thinking of this pseudo kiss for weeks, i assure you! but all in all, i say it’s a win-win situation for both of you~

[dp-marvel94]

Below the Greenhouse

For Phic Phight 2021. Prompt by @ave-aria: Maddie discovers the depths of Vlad's obsessions when she stumbles upon his secret lab. Despite the shock, part of her almost isn't surprised by the stolen Fenton Tech, the ripoff ghost portal, or the eerie Holo-Maddie—but the clone she finds floating in the pod at the back of the room? That's another matter entirely.

Word Count: 7,951

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note:

Me: *sees a prompt with the word clone*

Me: Oh no.

We all know why this happened.

 Maddie knew Vlad Masters was a creep. She did. And she’d known this for a while, even when she, Jack, and Vlad were in college. Before his accident, she had known he'd been preparing to profess his “love” and ask her out, even though he’d known full-well she and Jack were dating. And while, that might have been forgivable back then, when all of them were young and naive and Vlad didn’t hold such bitterness towards her husband, it wasn't now.

Now, Maddie knew Vlad was hopelessly bitter. After his accident, he’d refused to talk to them. He’d shut them out of his room when they visited the hospital and after he’d been released, he’d refused their phone calls and ignored their letters. Eventually, she and Jack gave up and they moved on with their lives.

That was, until Vlad chose to reconnect. And unfortunately, Vlad was worse than ever. More smug. More arrogant. More creepy. He ignored the fact that Maddie was happily married with children and he still insisted that she should leave the love of her life for him. 

Maddie really only tolerated him for Jack’s sake. Her husband still enthusiastically loved the man who’d been his best friend in college and she couldn’t bear to crush his spirit, though the woman was increasingly doubting her choice to stay silent now.

And now, Maddie realized that Vlad was much more despicable than she thought.

It started with a series of strange phone calls. The voice was robotic, yet strangely familiar sounding. It reminded her of her mother or maybe her sister? Either way, the sound somehow tugged at her heartstrings just as much as it made her shiver anxiously.

“Please save him.” The woman’s voice asked, an oddly flat plea.

“Tell me who you are.” Maddie demanded, not for the first time.

The speaker ignored the question, continuing. “I cannot get Number 6 out myself. Please save him.”

“You keep saying that, every time you call this number.” The woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was the fifth time she had gotten a call like this. All from an almost emotionless, staticky voice. All begging her to save someone or something called Number 6. Something she couldn’t seem to get anymore information about. “But who is number six?” Maddie asked, trying, probably futilely to learn more.

The answer surprised her. “Number 6 is just a boy. He should be free. He does not belong in a laboratory.”

Maddie frowned, brows furrowed in confusion “A laboratory?”

“That is correct.” The robotic voice answered.

“I’m sorry, are you talking about an actual child? What is a child doing in a laboratory?” The woman wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Number 6 is physically younger than the age of majority and therefore meets the definition of a child.”

“Okay?” Maddie furrowed her brow and repeated herself more severely. “Why are you keeping a child in your laboratory?”

There was a pause. “I am not permitted to share that information.”

That made the woman’s stomach flop. “And why not?”

“My dearest has forbidden me from discussing the details of his experiments with outsiders.”

Maddie frowned again. “Then why are you talking to me?”

“You are a loophole.” The speaker said without hesitation.

That gave the ghost hunter pause. She opened her mouth to ask more when there was a mechanical whirl across the line.

The fast, choppy words cut through. “Dearest will be leaving on a trip tonight and be away for the next three days.” 

“Wait, what are you-” Maddie started.

“The address is 600 North Maple Drive. Enter through the trapdoor in the greenhouse. I will be waiting.”

Across the line, a male voice called from far away. “Pull up the data from the last test, dear. And prepare the subject for sample collection.”

Maddie shivered; there was something familiar-

“Please hurry. Save him.” The robotic female voice whispered before the line cut off.

Maddie sighed, dropping the phone. She put her head in her hands. She didn’t know what to make of that. At first, she had thought these mysterious calls were pranks. Maybe even a ghost trying to trick her. Except…. That didn’t feel right. It had been a week and no ghost had acted against her or her family. No ghost would wait this long to act and no human prankster would continue this charade for this long either.

So who had been calling her and what do they really want? Could the speaker really be asking for her help? The idea made dread pool in her stomach, especially now. Now that she had more information. Now she had a location. And that was Vlad’s address. And that other voice...it had sounded like… Vlad, as if the speaker was in fact in Vlad’s mansion. Her stomach flopped. He’d been talking about data from a test and preparing a subject for sample collection. That in and of itself wasn’t necessarily that alarming. Vlad had a background in science. He could be conducting research, just like she and Jack did out of their own basement. Except…

Number 6 is just a boy. He should be free. He does not belong in a laboratory. The words rang in her head, making her feel sick.

Maddie sat for a long while, staring at the phone. So many questions clashed in her mind and she wanted answers. What was really happening here? And how would she learn the truth?

An idea started forming in her mind. A surely bad, horrible idea. She still had no idea who had been calling her. It probably was a trap. So why did she want to follow the instructions? And the prospect of sneaking onto Vlad Master’s property? She could get in serious trouble. And for what? Vlad would never do anything as immoral as what the speaker hinted at. Except...what if? Doubt grew in her mind. What if?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was how Maddie found herself pulling up to Vlad’s mansion in Amity Park. The woman sighed, putting the car into park and taking the key out of the ignition. She was really doing this, wasn’t she? The scientist could hardly believe her own actions. But it was the middle of the night and she was alone, in the small forest behind the mansion. 

Silently, Maddie got out of the car and started sneaking across the yard. She hadn’t told Jack where she was going. Maybe that was a mistake but the woman somehow knew he’d try to talk her out of this. And he would have a point. Yet the woman was still driven forward despite her better judgement. 

Arriving in front of the greenhouse, the ghost hunter stopped. She looked side to side, checking to see if anyone was watching. The yard was quiet and bare, only the sound of night insects cutting through the air. Maddie looked back into the building. To the left of the door was a blinking red light but other than that, inside was dark. Tentatively, Maddie jiggled the greenhouse’s door handle. It didn’t budge at first but then there was a buzz and a click. The door unlocked and the woman frowned, watching the blinking light turn from red to white. Was that a security system? And...had the door just unlocked for her?

Maddie bit her lip. She considered turning back but...she wanted answers. Instead, she pulled her ectostaff out of her belt. A blow to the head from it would be just as effective on a human attacker as it would be on a ghost.

The woman opened the door, quickly stepping though. She closed it and cautiously crossed the room. From what she could tell in the dark, this was a normal greenhouse. She breathed deeply, taking in the wet earthy smell of dirt, the soft perfume of flowers, and… She sniffed. That scent, old batteries, ozone, and citrus. That was familiar. Was that ectoplasm? 

Maddie turned, eyes searching for the tell-tell glow of a ghost. Her gaze fixed on something a few rows over. The huntress continued forward, brow wrinkling at the sight. Unsurprisingly, these were plants but….a faint glow enveloped the snow white leaves, the orange and black fruits. Tentatively, she reached forward and cupped one of the fruits. Even through her gloves, she could feel the ghostly chill. 

Maddie’s frown deepened. She’d never seen anything like this before. Was this some kind of ghostly plant? And in Vlad’s greenhouse of all places? Where did it come from? How did the billionaire procure it? And why hadn’t he said anything to her and Jack?

With that thought, the ghost hunters’ stomach flopped with nerves. There was actually something here, something out of the ordinary. Her mind turned back to those phone calls, the reason she was here in the first place. The speaker had said something about a trapdoor.

With that, Maddie pulled a flashlight out of her belt and flicked it on. She looked down, searching, and her eyes widened. Oh….well then. There, not three feet in front of her, was the door. The woman approached. Crouching down, she put down her staff and grasped the flashlight between her teeth. With both hands, she pulled the door up, revealing a short ladder leading to a narrow passageway.

The ghost hunter furrowed her brow, hesitating for a moment. She braced herself, forcing her shoulders to relax to dislodge some of the anxiety. Maddie stood up straight. She grabbed her staff and started lowering herself down the ladder. Once she was at the bottom, the woman turned and pointed the flashlight down the passageway. There, maybe ten feet in front of her was a metal blast door.

Dread rose in Maddie at the sight but she tried to push it down. This was probably an old cellar, or maybe even a bomb shelter. Rich people tended to have those, didn’t they? It could be…..

The woman stepped forward. Tentatively, she placed a hand on the opening mechanism. It looked like a wheel that she’d need both hands to open. She moved to return her staff to her belt but before she could, a mechanical whirl sounded. The wheel started turning. Paling Maddie rapidly stepped back. Her heart pounded in fear of being caught.

Then the door swung open with a groan. The ghost hunter registered bright light pouring through the opening. She blinked for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the change. Then she registered the translucent figure floating across the doorway. 

Maddie scowled, acting on instinct. “Take that ghost.” She swung her staff but the blow never connected, instead sailing through the blue clad figure without resistance.

“I am not a ghost.” A familiar, robotic voice responded.

It was then that Maddie finally registered what she was seeing. She gasped in shock. It was herself, except floating, translucent, and...glitching around the edges? “What are you?” She breathed.

“I am the MADDIE program, an artificial intelligence meant to emulate Dr. Madeline Fenton.”

The ghost hunter stared for a long moment in confusion. She hadn’t expected a response and now her mind couldn’t catch up, barely processing what she was seeing.

The hologram floated backward, motioning into the door. “Come inside.”

Maddie blinked, registering the words. Her eyes flitted from her strange double to the interior of the room. Concrete floor, metallic walls, sturdy work tables, and….a soft green light. It looked familiar, very much like the Fentonworks lab. The woman’s heart skipped a beat. She’d already come this far….

The huntress took a few steps forward and crossed the threshold, all the while keeping her eyes on the hologram. The other figure was unmoving and silent, not even blinking. After another long moment staring, Maddie warily looked around. As she’d glimpsed, there were shiny metal work tables and shelves. A station with a microscope, centrifuge, and table top incubator. She frowned, eyes falling on glowing vials of ectoplasm. 

This was a lab, obviously. A ghost research lab, based on the ectoplasm. But below Vlad’s greenhouse? Her eyes flickered to another table, this one holding familiar looking devices. Ectoguns, slim and silvery with a design Maddie knew intimately, despite the unfamiliar logo and red accents.

The woman walked forward, tentatively hefting the gun. “This looks like our model 35.” She stated seriously.

Maddie then turned, facing the source of the soft green light. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the swirling green. “That’s a portal. A ghost portal.” She muttered. 

The scientist took in the design of the frame, of the ecto-filtrater and the control panel. That was her and Jack’s design as well. Her mind swam, information bouncing around senselessly as she tried to make sense of all this. This was a lab. A ghost research lab. A hidden, secret research lab in Vlad Master’s backyard, below his greenhouse. Vlad’s secret lab. But...why?

She bit her lip, her eyes falling on the Fenton Works designed weapons and the portal. Their stolen designs. Maddie could barely believe it, yet she wasn’t as surprised as she should be. Vlad still having an interest in ghosts? The creepy billionaire stealing their blueprints? Why did that seem all too plausible?

“Dr. Fenton?” A staticy voice asked behind her.

Maddie turned, frown deepening as she took in the hologram again. Her mouth felt dry. “He….Vlad...made a hologram that looks and sounds like me.” She felt sickened at the thought, at the evidence in front of her. 

“Yes. I was modeled after Dr. Madeline Fenton.” The hologram replied.

The ghost hunter put a hand on her head, feeling a headache grow. It made sense, in a sick kind of way. Vlad had a fascination with her. He was not exactly subtle in his ‘affections.’ Of course he would create this creepy copy. “Why?” She groaned, in rising anger.

“I was created to serve as a digital assistance and security system.”

Maddie looked up, blinking in confusion. She hadn’t been expecting an answer. The woman then frowned, realizing something. A security system? Did that mean… “You unlocked the greenhouse door for me...and turned off the security system.”

“That is correct.” The hologram replied.

The ghost hunter wrinkled her brow. “Why?”

Somehow, almost imperceptibly, the figure’s expression softened. “You came to take Number 6 away from here.”

That gave Maddie pause, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the AI with new eyes. “You were the one calling me.” 

It finally hit her. The voice on the phone, the monotone one that reminded her of her mother and sister. It was this AI, this AI which sounded very much like Maddie herself. Of course she hadn’t recognized that. Most people don’t know what they really sound like outside of their own head and Maddie herself was no exception.

“Yes, I did.” The AI confirmed. “Please save him.”

“Him?” Maddie bit her lip, feeling that familiar dread again. “Number 6? Who is this person?”

The hologram floated toward the other side of the room, towards a tall cylindrical metal tube that Maddie hadn’t noticed yet. “Come.” She motioned the ghost hunter to approach.

The huntress did so, fixing a studious gaze on the tube.

“Viewing panel opening.” The AI announced as the whirl of gears sounded throughout the room.

In front of the cylinder, metal paneling slid apart. Slowly a gap opened, making the inside of the pod visible. Maddie first registered neon green ectoplasm swirling in some kind of solution. Then her jaw dropped. There, suspended in the chamber was a lithe figure. It looked male, the form of a young teenager. For a moment, the ghost hunter registered white hair and a black and white garment. Phantom? Had Vlad managed to capture Phantom? No...that….

Her brow furrowed, stepping closer. She examined the glowing body. The figure’s appearance was shifting. Its skin was a mosaic of ghostly blue and a pale, more human color in ever changing, shifting patches. The black and white garment also shifted, seeming to grow and spread over the body before retreating, leaving bare skin. On the head was a mop of black and white hair, the patches rapidly changing color and appearing to move across the skull.

Maddie frowned. There was a resemblance to Phantom. (How? How in the world?) But this wasn’t the same being. “This is a ghost.” Her brow wrinkled in confusion, despite her confidence of the fact.

“Yes.” The MADDIE program answered plainly. 

The scientist turned. “I am not letting a ghost out of here.”

The hologram frowned. “Number Six is a boy. He deserves to be free.”

Maddie pointed. “But….that is a ghost.”

“Yes.” The AI confirmed again. “But he is also a boy. Observe.” The translucent figure waved a hand over one of the computers. “Display subject’s vials.”

Instantly, readings appeared on the screen, a rhythmic beeping commencing. The ghost hunter studied the words and numbers. “Oxygen saturation, Blood Glucose, Blood pressure, Heart Rate.” Her brow furrowed. “These are vials for a human.”

“Yes. These are Number six’s vials.” 

Maddie scrunched her nose in disbelief. “But...this is a ghost.” 

But the sound of the heart monitor pounded in her head. She turned, facing the figure in the tube again. The readings could be fake. But why? And why did Vlad have a ghost captured in his lab? And why did it resemble Phantom? Or at least, it seemed to. Not that she’d ever been this close to Phantom before but the white hair, suit, and lithe figure were the same. She took in the shifting appearance. And what was that? An attempt at shapeshifting?

Maddie turned back to the screen, reading again. At the top, it read Clone Six, 100% stability. “Clone?” The woman questioned. “Clone of who? Of Phantom?”

“Yes.” The AI answered. In response, the ghost hunter turned sharply. The hologram continued. “Subject Six has completed the gestation period and is now viable and capable of living outside the artificial womb.”

Maddie blinked rapidly. There was a lot of information there. “Clone? Vlad cloned Phantom and...it’s ready?”

“Yes. He is stable.” The hologram turned. “Please save him. Take him away from dearest.”

“Look.” The scientist pinched the bridge of her nose. “I am not letting this ghost go.”

“He is a boy.” The AI insisted.

“You say that but-”

“And a ghost.” The hologram continued. “He is a living boy and a ghost.”

Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. “Living?”

She turned back to the chamber, something in her resonating at the word. The strands of black hair, the human colored skin, the patches that did not glow. She looked up into the face and something itched in the back of her mind. It looked familiar, not just because the ghost looked like Phantom.

Maddie took another step. She reached forward until she was touching the glass. The heart monitor steadily beeped as the figure in the chamber twitched.

The huntress shook her head, denying. “That’s just...not possible. Someone can’t be a ghost and a human.” What the AI was saying was nonsensical, completely impossible. So why did Maddie not feel certain?

“Initiate wake up sequence.” The AI declared.

Startled, Maddie’s head whipped to the side. “What are you-”

In the chamber, something thumped. The woman’s head turned to see flailing limbs. The figure’s eyes suddenly popped open, one blue and one green panickedly flickering around the room. The rate of the heart monitor increased. The being thrashed, chest spasming. A hand pounded against the glass. 

“What did you do?” Maddie demanded of the AI.

There was no answer, just fearful flailing within the tube. The ghostly figure’s gaze shifted down and fell on Maddie. The eyes widened, silently begging. More pounding of hands on the inside of the glass. The beeping increased, pounding into the woman’s head. The ghost boy blinked and the eyes were blue, icy blue. The gaze, the familiar gaze stabbed Maddie in the heart.

The woman panicked, her own heart race. Her eyes ripped away from the boy. What do I do? What do I do? Her mind raced. Her gaze fell on a large button marked, Emergency release. She acted without thinking, slamming her hand down on the button.

There was hiss and a beep from the chamber. In the blink of an eye, the glass wall of the chamber parted. Maddie yelped, jumping back as water and ectoplasm poured out. The liquid soaked her anyway. Then, the boy inside the tub was falling. He tipped forward and the woman reached out to catch him on instinct.

A surprisingly heavy body fell onto the ghost hunter. Her knees threatened to buckle under the sudden impact. Instead she wobbled and wrapped one arm around the lithe body. Shakily, Maddie lowered herself to her knees, taking the ghostly figure with her.

Numbly, hardly believing what she’d just done, the woman huddled on the floor. She tensed at the being reached towards her. A part of her brain screamed that it was unsafe to be so near to a ghost, yet she didn’t move as ungloved hands weakly grabbed onto her jumpsuit and the ghost pressed into her chest, as if it was hugging her. 

Maddie looked down at the being, marveling at the sight. Its appearance was still shifting. Black and white hair. Black jumpsuit and bare skin. Patches of ghostly blue and pale human skin. The woman could feel the ectoplasmic energy, the ghostly chill radiating off the being as well but..... Its glow...there was something off. The glow was dimming. It flickered like a light bulb before cutting off.

In front of her came a whine as the ghost buried its head into her shoulder. Soft cold breath caressed her check. Breathe? Maddie’s heart skipped a breath. She could feel the chest rising and falling with fast breaths, pressed against her as it was. And that beeping. Maddie glanced up at the display. The heart monitor was still keeping pace with a rapidly fluttering heart.

The scientists breath lodged in her throat. No this was...ghosts didn’t breath. They didn’t have heart beats. They didn’t…. She looked down at the shaking figure again and her world turned upside down. The black suit was receding, evaporating. It disappeared off the arms and chest, every part of the body she could see, leaving bare skin below. And that skin, it was changing. Pale peach-tinted skin was rapidly replacing the inhuman blue. A warm breath blew over her check, the ghostly chill quickly vanishing. The weight pressed into her increased, the fingers holding onto her becoming warm and solid. And on the head, black overtook white until she was staring down at the full black head of hair.

Maddie’s mind stopped unable to process. This was...she was...in front...of her...this was... She blinked rapidly, as if the sign would change but...the lack of glow, the human skin tone, the warmth, the breathing, the black hair. That..that damn heart monitor. This...this was...no...no way. The ghost hunter shakily, wrapped her arms around the now hyperventilating figure. She winced feeling the warm, solid skin under her gloves. This was impossible but….

This...this was a human. No ghost...no ghost could fake this. No shapeshifting would give a ghost human warmth and a heartbeat. And she could feel it, the rapidly fluttering heart pressed against her own. 

The ghost whined again. No. no. The boy. The boy who had just been a ghost but had changed. The boy who’d just been inside that pod. Who was shaking and hyperventilating in front of her. Another whine. A tear fell onto her shoulder.

Maddie’s mind finally caught up. Her arms shifted into a more proper hug, hands reaching up to run through the black hair. “Shhh. Shh. It’s okay.” The woman whispered. “Breath with me. In.” She breathed in deliberately. “And out.” She pushed the air out of her lungs. “In and Out.”

The boy copied, his breaths following hers. In and out. In and out. His breathing slowed as did the beeping of the heart monitor. Slowly, so slowly, his shaking subsided but the boy didn’t let go of her suit.

Maddie stayed still, questions bombarding her now that the boy was calmed. This boy, who was he? Where had he come from? Why...why did Vlad have a teenager in his lab? And why did he have a ghost that could change into a human? Or was this a human who could turn into a ghost? Her mind raced, her own heart rate increasing with overwhelming confusion. How was this possible? What was this kid?

She looked down, an idea sparking. That ghost disease that all the teenagers supposedly got. The disease that gave them ghost powers. She and Jack had never seen any of the supposedly infected students. They’d dismissed the claims as absurd. Humans could not have ghost powers. Yet Jazz and Danny’s friend, Sam, had both insisted that they’d gotten sick and both had displayed a ghostly ability. And if...if that was true….. She paled, the overheard words from the last phone call hitting her. Tests, sample collection, subject, experiment. If Vlad was experimenting with that disease, experimenting with ectoplasm on...on….

“Where...where am I?” A quiet male voice asked, directly in front of her. Maddie stiffened at the words, roughly pulled out of her thoughts. “What’s happening?”

The woman’s heart stopped. That voice. That voice. Oh god. Suddenly shaking, she unwrapped her arms from the boy. Gently, so gently, she grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands off of her. The boy seemed to shrink in on himself at that, shoulders falling. 

He sniffled but Maddie shushed it. “Look...look up at me.” She quietly asked. Slowly, the teenager obeyed and again, the mother felt like her world was turned on its head. Familiar, icy blue eyes met hers. The curve of that nose, the round chin, the slightly chubby cheeks. Oh god, she knew...she knew this face intimately. A trembling hand reached out to touch, cupping the boy’s cheek. “Danny?” Maddie asked, before she could really think.

The blue eyes widened, looking at her with the most pure and innocent hope she’d even seen. “Danny? Is that...is that my name?”

The woman’s expression fell, her mind catching up to the question, to what she was seeing. No, this couldn't be Danny. She had just seen him earlier that night. And on the face in front of her….The freckles….the freckles were wrong, laid out in a different pattern. And the scar above his lips, where was it? The mother glanced down, at his collar bone. The birthmark wasn’t there. And...her heart skipped a beat. No, he was too young, maybe two years younger than her son’s current age of 16.

The woman removed her hand. “No. I’m sorry. You’re not….you look like him, like Danny. So I thought….But you’re not...you’re not him.”

The boy’s shoulders fell and his eyes fixed down. The suddenly heartbroken, lonely look broke Maddie’s heart. “Oh. Then...who am I?”

The ghost hunter frowned at the question, her mind trying to form an answer. Who was this boy who looked like her Danny? Wait…. The words on his vitals display flashed in her mind. Clone number 6. Clone. “You’re a clone.” She blinked, mouth falling open. “You’re a clone of my son.”

The boy looked up, raising a brow. “What’s a clone?”

Maddie flushed at the question. It was so innocent. And his eyes, staring up at her like she had the answer to every question in the universe. “That’s...that’s complicated.” She glanced down, cheeks reddening in a sudden realization. “Let’s umm...let’s get you some clothes first.” The mother blushed for a moment. He’d been naked this whole time, while they’d been hugging and she had been comforting him.

“Clothes?” The boy tilted his head and the innocent confusion, the lack of embarrassment, just about killed Maddie. This looked like a teenager but obviously he wasn’t actually one.

The mother pushed the thought away, head surveying the room for something to cover the child with. She gaze fixed on something white hanging on one of the walls. Lab coats. Maddie started pushing herself to her feet.

The boy whimpered, grabbing her hand. “Don’t leave me.”

Maddie’s expression softened. “I’m not. I’m just going to get you something to wear.”

Shakily, she stood and walked across the lab. All the while, the woman could feel the eyes on the back of her head. But she ignored it, focusing on grabbing a coat. She pulled the white garment off the peg and quickly returned. Maddie then knelt down and held out the coat. The boy looked at it with no recognition as if he had no idea what to do with it. He probably didn’t.

“I can put it on you then. Hold out your arms.” Maddie instructed.

The boy, the clone, (this was a clone, a clone of her son. Her son. How? Why? What?). The clone did as she said and the woman dressed him as if he was a little child. (He probably was). The woman tried to smile comfortingly as she fastened the buttons. “There you go. All covered up.”

The boy looked at the sleeves curiously. They hung past his hands as the garment swallowed him. He waved his arms, watching the ends flap. The child laughed at the sight.

Maddie’s heart clenched at the child-like display. But then she turned her attention to the AI that had been silently watching the entire time. Standing, she scowled. “Is he a clone of my son?”

“Yes.” The MADDIE program replied. “Subject Number 6 is a clone of Daniel James Fenton.”

Maddie looked down again. Somehow, despite how impossible this was, that made perfect sense. The appearance was nearly identical, to perfect for strangers. And….she swallowed. Vlad had a sick fascination with her children, with Danny in particular. She knew the man fancied himself something of a godfather, with his pet names, presents, and advice. And Danny despised it, much more than any teenage boy should even if said godfather had a tendency to flirt with his mother.

The woman paled, all sorts of horrible idea coming into her head. What Vlad must want from Danny, what he must really want from her son. And to do the scientifically impossible? She shivered. Tests, experiments. She remembered the hybrid ghostly appearance, the ectoenergy flowing off of him. From some the ghostly disease? But… “Wait...you said that he was clone of Phantom earlier?”

The hologram’s response was cut off by a scream from the floor. Maddie’s eyes flicked down panickedly as the clone looked up at her. “My...my arm...it’s gone.”

The woman’s eyes just about popped out of her skull. His left sleeve with the hand and arm inside of it were gone. Maddie knelt down, reaching towards where the limb should be. Her hand hit something solid and chilly. She rapidly blinked. “It’s invisible. Your arm is invisible.” Panic rose in her. Ghostly abilities. There were ghostly abilities. He had ghost powers.

“Invisible?!” The boy shrieked. 

Maddie’s heart clenched. That sounded just like Danny, her son when he was scared. The boy’s mouth was open with panic, his breath increasing. And all the woman could see was her son. Her son’s face, screwed up with panic and fear. It made her soul ache. She gently wrapped her hand around his invisible one. “It’s still there but you need to calm down. Breath with me. Like before. Okay. In and out.”

The boy copied her action once and his hand returned to visibility. He threw himself forward into her arms. Maddie returned the hug without hesitation. Then a breath later, cold swept over her. The body in her arms disappeared, turning into cold mist. Both the woman and the boy screamed as he turned intangible and fell through her.

Maddie rapidly stood, stepping back. What was happening?! On the floor, the boy returned to solidity, the slightly translucent appearance disappearing. He rolled onto his back, panting. The beeping of the monitor increased with his breathing as his face scrunched up fearfully. 

Then a heartbeat later, just when Maddie thought she was done with surprises for tonight, something else stole the breath from her lungs. A white ring of light formed around the boy’s waist. It spread up and down his body and everything the light touched changed. The scientist blinked away the spots in her vision. And there, writhing on the floor with a panicked expression, was Phantom. Or...he looked like Phantom. White hair, black and white jumpsuit, panic filled green eyes.

It suddenly all hit Maddie like a tractor-trailer. He was a clone of Danny.. .and he was a clone of Phantom. Of Phantom. Danny...it clicked into place. Oh god, Danny’s accident with the portal. Him setting off all their equipment. His badly hidden injuries. Falling grades, skipping class, not sleeping. Oh god. Danny was Phantom. Danny Fenton was Danny Phantom. That...that was a pun, damnit. Of course her son would name himself after a pun. And… her eyes fixed on the boy on the floor. His face even stayed the same! No wonder Phantom avoided getting close to them!

In front of her, the clone was hyperventilating again. “What’s happening to me?!” He cried, tears welling in his eyes. His legs were fused into a ghostly tail which lashed in front of him.

The mother’s brain kicked into gear, her motherly instincts taking over again. She knelt down. “Sweetie. Sweetie. Calm down. I’m here.” 

She grabbed his arm, intending to pull him into a sitting position but he was so light, as light as a balloon. With the slightest tug, he was pulled into the air, floated. Maddie pulled the ghost boy into her arms. She cupped the back of his head.

“What’s...what’s happening to me?” He cried again.

“I don’t know.” Maddie answered honestly. She had only the barest idea of what all was going on. But still... “I’ll figure it out. I’ll help you. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

The boy wiggled in her hold, crying into her shoulders. “I...I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Who...who am I? Who are you? Where are we?”

Maddie didn’t know. Or rather she didn't know how to answer those questions without making him more scared. She desperately wished she did know. She’d have to have a long conversation with Danny about him being Phantom and about what is actually going on between him and Vlad but for now...she hugged the boy tighter.

A long minute later, light passed over the clone again. He became heavy and warm in Maddie’s arms. His knees wobbled for a moment before steadying as Maddie held him up. “There, you’re doing it. You can stand.” His posture strengthened and the shaking stopped. Finally, the mother asked. “Do you think you can stand on your own?”

“I...I think so?” The boy said, uncertainly.

“Alright. I’m going to step away slowly. I’ll catch you if you start to fall.” Maddie reassured.

The child nodded as the woman backed away. He wobbled, tipping forward but the ghost hunter gently grabbed him. They stood, hands on each other's forearm for a long pause, until the boy steadied himself. He looked down at his feet, lifting one before putting it down and then doing the same with the opposite. Finally, he let go of Maddie’s arms. After hesitating, the mother did the same.

The boy studied her compassionate face, brow furrowed with deep thought. “Who are you...to me?”

Maddie considered, studying his face in kind. Her son’s face. A face so like her Danny’s. He was a clone, a clone of her son. Meaning...he was her own flesh and blood. Her lips pursed in thought. More importantly...he was a child. A confused, scared child who needed her help. And before she was a ghost hunter and scientist, Maddie was and would always be a mother.

“I’m your mother.” She said without hesitation, smiling. “Your mom.”

“Mom?” The boy asked, testing out the word. 

Maddie nodded, reaching forward and gently whipping one of his tears away with her thumb. “I’m your mom.”

The child smiled, his eyes lighting up like that was the most wonderful thing he had ever heard. It very well could be. “Mom.” The word rang out with so many emotions, with some much love that Maddie’s heart swelled. The boy stepped forward hugging her again.

The mother ran her finger through his hair. “Yes baby. I’m here to take you home."

“You will take him away from here, then?” A staticy voice asked, beside the pair.

Maddie turned, pulling away to look at the AI. Beside her, the clone tilted his head as he looked between the two but didn’t ask.

The scientist nodded. “Yes. I think I understand why you called me now.” Of course she did. This was an AI made to copy her, something of a digital clone. If Maddie was in her place, she would not so easily agree to whatever Vlad had planned. She would not leave a child here to be experimented on. And as the MADDIE programs 'original’, for lack of a better word, she wasn’t exactly an outsider and therefore a loophole.

The hologram nodded. “I will disable the microchip then.” A light on the monitor blinked out and the beeping of the heart monitor stopped. The AI then turned to the computer. She pointed to a flash drive plugged into one of the ports. “That contains all research data. Take it with you.” 

Maddie obeyed, taking the drive. The AI winked. “Excellent. Delete all research data. Command alpha-06-gamma-58-epsilon.”

There was a loud dial tone and the computer fritzed, the monitor wavering until a blue screen reading ‘System Deletion’ in large print was displayed.

Maddie raised a brow, impressed at the AI. 

Then the clone asked. “What about you? Are you coming with us?”

The program shook her head. “No dear. I am not like you. My purpose is served.” The AI turned to deliberately look at Maddie. “Number 6 has been saved.”

The boy frowned at the statement as did the mother, considering the statement and the depth of it. She didn’t know what to make of it except...it almost felt like one mother was handing off her son to another.

“Go on.” The MADDIE program encouraged. "You may go out the way you came and I will lock the doors behind you." She frowned. "I will distract dearest for as long as I can."

Maddie wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I suppose you can't just call him Vlad?"

"No." The AI almost sounded annoyed. "My programming is most inconvenient."

The ghost hunter nodded in understanding. Then she turned to face the clone. "Come on then sweetie." She wrapped one arm around the boy and started leading him towards the door. Before passing through, the women turned back to face the hologram. "Thank you."

The corner of MADDIE program's lip turned up as she offered an accepting nod. The pair then turned back towards the still open door. The clone wobbled slightly, progressing slowly as he gained more confidence. Maddie carefully stepped across the threshold with the boy still at her side. Once they were in the tunnel, a gap sounded from beside her.

"What is it?" The mother glanced to the side, eyes wide with concern.

"The ground's cold." The boy muttered.

"Oh." Maddie looked down. "You're not wearing any shoes." She'd have to get him some once they got home and some proper clothes. "Just step carefully, okay? Actually…." With her free hand, she pulled out her flashlight and shone it on the bare ground in front of them. "There." 

The pair advanced carefully, Maddie helping the boy to clumsily climb up the ladder. They crossed the greenhouse and the mother pulled the boy along as he eagerly studied their surroundings. 

"It smells nice in here." The clone commented, sniffing the air.

"It does." Maddie agreed. 

Arriving at the door, she finally opened it and the two found themselves in the open air. The boy suddenly stopped, looking down. 

He hummed in the back of his throat, pleased. "I like the grass under my feet." Maddie looked down to find the kid wiggling his toes. Then there was an awed whisper. "Wow. Are those the stars?"

The mother looked up again to find him staring up at the sky in wonder. Maddie smiled. "Yes, they are. Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yeah." He breathed.

Maddie let him look up in awe, as she herself marveled. She couldn't help but be reminded of Danny's love of the stars. But even with the resemblance, he was a different person from her Danny, wasn't he? She could already see little difference. This child-like wonder was something she hadn’t seen in her son very often now. But still she wondered. This clone seemed to know the words for things. He could speak clearly and had good coordination all things considered. How was that even remotely possible? And yet he still had the air of someone who had never seen the world before, like every was new. Because it likely was.

With that, Maddie cut off her musing. "Come on sweetie. We need to keep going."

The mother hated cutting off his exploration, especially as his expression fell. But the boy nodded anyway, taking a step forward. The pair continued, cutting across the yard, into the trees, and to the car. Maddie clicked the fob to unlock the vehicle. She guided the boy to the car, opened the passenger's side door, and helped him sit. The mother then walked around and opened the driver's side door and sat down herself.

Maddie turned to find the clone looking at his seat belt curiously. She reached over. "Here let me help you." She buckled him in.

The boy hummed, fidgeting in his seat while Maddie buckled herself in. She put the key in the ignition and started the engine. Instantly, the radio started, a song from their local eighties station broadcasting through. The clone flinched at the sudden sound before relaxing. 

He turned, looking at the woman with wide eyes. "What's that?"

Maddie smiled. "It's music."

"Right. Music." The boy nodded. He tilted his head, listening to the song. After a moment, his head bobbed in time. "I think I like music." He hummed along, wiggling in his seat.

It made Maddie want to laugh so she did. She chuckled as she put the car into drive and pulled away. She turned into the road and started driving back towards Fentonworks. The song ended just as they pulled up at a red light.

The clone turned to face her. "Where are we going?"

She looked at him out the corner of her eye. "We're going home, like I said earlier."

He nodded. "Right yeah. I remember that." He hummed. "What will we do when we get there?"

Maddie paused, considering the question. "Well...we’ll talk to your dad and your….Danny and Jazz….and we’ll figure all of this out.” 

She’d hesitated for a moment, thinking to refer to Danny and Jazz as his brother and sister. But Maddie had no idea how they’d take this. Hopefully well. Those two were good kids but living with a clone of yourself….Maddie could hardly imagine. At least Jack would be eager and welcoming. She knew her husband well enough to be sure….Oh boy, she really should have told him something about all of this before she’d left.

"All of this….you mean the….clone thing and…" He bit his lip. "The flashing light and the floating and disappearing and falling through things?"

"Ghost powers." Maddie said, brow furrowing. "You have ghost powers. As far as I can tell, you're some kind of ghost human hybrid? Not that I knew that was possible until less than an hour ago…." She frowned. "Nor did I know you existed."

The boy frowned, looking worried. His lips pursed. "So...you don't know what my name is then, do you?”

Maddie's heart fell. In front of them, the light turned green. The woman turned back, removing her foot off the gas. The car pulled away before the mother pulled into a parking lot. 

She took a deep breath, the impossibleness of the situation hitting her. She was sitting in her car with a clone of her son. A clone that she’d found in the secret laboratory below Vlad Master’s greenhouse. A human-ghost hybrid clone of her son who was also a hybrid. She had another son now. A son who she now had to tell that she didn't know his name, because he likely didn't have one yet.

Maddie put a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.” She gently apologized. “You’re right. I don’t know. And sadly….” She took a deep breath. “And I know this will be hard to hear but...all I know is that hologram called you Number 6 and...that’s not exactly a name, is it? ” 

His lip quivered, eyes starting to water. “But….that’s….”

The mother took his hands and squeezed it. “That will change. Your father and I can pick out a name for you; that’s what parents normally do for their children. Or….if you have something in mind, we’ll happily call you that.”

The clone looked down, biting his lip in consideration. “I’ll...I’ll think about it.”

Maddie’s face softened. “Alright sweetie.”

He turned his head up, blinking at her. “Sweetie? Can that be my name?”

The question was asked so innocently that Maddie couldn’t help but laugh. “No. That’s a pet name. I call all my kids that.”

“Oh.” He blushed in embarrassment. “Well that’s...at least, that means I’m one of your kids.”

The mother nodded her head. “Yes, of course. You’re my son.” It should have been surprising how much her heart swelled with love at the statement but well….Maddie had made up her mind. This was her son. Not Vlad Masters’ experiment. Not just Danny’s clone. Her son and Vlad was not taking him away from her.

They would have a lot to figure out. A name for this boy. His complete origin as a clone. How to deal with having a third child, one who’d just appeared overnight. They’d have to deal with the implications of her revelation that Danny was Phantom. And Vlad...what he’d done was horrible. He’d stolen blueprints and her son’s DNA. He’d experimented on a human or...humans. She internally frowned; he was clone number 6. Did that mean that there had been five others? 

Either way, Vlad was deplorable. There, in the depth of his lab, below something as innocuous and normal as his greenhouse, Maddie had discovered that and the true depth of his obsession with her and her family. And now she knew, Vlad needed to be stopped. He needed to be punished. But what exactly to do with him, considering how taking him down would likely expose Danny’s identity as Phantom? Yes, they had a lot to deal with but….

Maddie leaned forward to kiss her new son’s forehead. “You have a family now. And a home. And everything else we’ll figure out together.”

A soft smile crept across his face. “I like how that sounds.”

“Good.” Maddie smiled. “Now...are you ready to go meet the rest of your family?”

“Yeah.” He squeezed the hand still holding hers. “I’m ready Mom.”

[jaskierswolf]

Hello dearest Overlord!! May we please have a continuation of that brilliant Chicago fic you gifted us? It was SO GOOD I can't stop thinking about it lol

Maya! I meant to have this done for your birthday but life... sorry! Either way! Happy belated birthday! I shall upload to AO3 tomorrow!

Previous

Rated: E

Ship: Geraskier

Summary: After a night of sweat and sex and sin, Geralt knows it's time to apologise for the harsh words. If only he could find the words to say (Yes i'm abusing TAD lyrics... oops)

CW: weapons kink, shaving kink, minor injury, talks of rimming, and general hoeyness.

______

Geralt stared up at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the wall. The room stank of sweat and sex, and a warm spicy scent that wafted from the bard that was curled up on his chest. The night before had been possibly some of the best sex in his long life, but it had been tainted with the worry that it was the only chance he would get. Jaskier was still angry, and rightfully so, but it meant that Geralt wasn’t sure if this was the last time he would ever see his most loyal friend and companion. His fingers were softly trailing down Jaskier’s spine, painting flowers into the bard’s bare skin. Geralt couldn’t bear to watch Jaskier sleep. He was too beautiful, even covered in sweat, drooling over Geralt’s chest. Geralt just knew that if he looked then he would never be able to let Jaskier go.

And he couldn’t keep the bard if he didn’t want to stay.

“I can hear you thinking,” Jaskier mumbled, shifting on Geralt’s chest to press a kiss to the exposed skin. “It’s very distracting.”

Geralt huffed a laugh despite his growing anxiety. “Distracting you from sleep?”

“Mhmm.”

They laid like that for a few more moments, neither quite ready to face the day yet. Jaskier seemed to be trying to fall back asleep but after a couple of minutes he groaned and rolled onto his back. He pouted as he looked up at the ceiling, his hair a ruffled mess from where Geralt’s hands had run through it the night before, and there were dark bruises littered all over his neck, creeping down his chest where thick hair covered the pale skin. A stark reminder of Jaskier’s masculinity despite the way he preferred to present to the world.

Geralt swallowed as his cock began to make itself known. It could easily be excused as morning wood if Jaskier had decided that Geralt’s crimes were too dire to forgive, but he couldn’t help but hope.

“It appears that despite my best attempts, I am awake,” Jaskier grumbled, pushing his hands through his hair.

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed, waiting for Jaskier to pass judgement before he really spoke.

“So… witcher,” Jaskier breathed, his voice guarded and cool, making Geralt stiffen as he prepared for the worst. “I think we can both agree, that was a rather fantastic evening of carnal delights.”

“Hmm.”

“But not even sex with dear Melitele herself would make up for, well, you know,” Jaskier rolled onto his side and peered down at Geralt with icy fire in those pretty blue eyes, “the whole ‘if life could give me one blessing’ thing.” Jaskier’s voice deepened in his impersonation of Geralt and his words were accentuated with a flourish.

“Jaskier-”

“I meant it, Geralt. I want an apology, a real one, or forget it. I can find inspiration elsewhere, and well.. I- you probably weren’t my friend at all if you can’t see that what you did was wrong. I may be a bit of a prick sometimes, but I deserve better, Geralt.”

“I know,” Geralt whispered, wondering when the lost puppy that had followed him for so many years had grown up.

How had he never noticed?

“I’m sorry, Jaskier,” he breathed, struggling to find the words to explain just how sorry he was, but hoping that the bard would understand. “I- I was… I,” Geralt growled and covered his face with both hands, his beard scratching at his calloused skin.

The world felt like it was against him as he tried to gather his thoughts, but before he could, Jaskier’s hands were covering his, gently pulling them off his face. “Breathe, darling.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t have the words to put this right.”

“Then show me, dear heart.”

Geralt’s brow furrowed as he gazed up at the bard, shining cornflower blue eyes shimmering in the morning light, his fringe falling down to cover them. He looked beautiful. Geralt reached up to brushed the hair from Jaskier’s eyes but it didn’t work and they both chuckled as Jaskier huffed a breath to try and blow it out of the way. “How?”

“You can start by getting rid of that beard. You look very handsome but my arse itches like a bitch this morning,” Jaskier grumbled.

“You weren’t complaining last night,” Geralt teased.

“Well, I was hardly going to whine about it when you had your tongue up my arse!”

Just like that the ice seemed to have broken and Geralt smirked as he pulled Jaskier into a kiss; the taste was stale and unpleasant on Geralt’s tongue but he didn’t care, he was kissing Jaskier., The bard moaned softly into the kiss, shifting on the bed so that he was straddling Geralt’s hips. Jaskier’s fingers were splayed on Geralt's chest as he rolled his hips against Geralt’s erection, making them both gasp into the kiss. The heat from the night before was back, not blistering and blinding but a slow build of embers as they were once again lost in the taste of each other.

And Geralt felt… happy?

He couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to be happy. Perhaps at Kaer Morhen before he set out onto the path for the first time. Before he learned that witchers were no better than the monsters they hunted in the eyes of humanity. There had been some brief moments of happiness when he’d been beside Jaskier on the path, the quiet moments before they went to sleep but Geralt had always been plagued with guilt, worried that he would destroy the fragile being that trusted him.

Of course, his fears had become reality, but in spite of everything Jaskier was still here with him, his lips pressed against Geralt’s neck, hands carding through his hair. So, because of the unfamiliar lightness in his heart, Geralt decided to tease his friend, his love, his bard. He grinned as he captured Jaskier’s lips once more in a bruising kiss, fingers digging into the bard’s hips to hold him close, and then he rubbed his cheek against Jaskier’s.

“Oi!” Jaskier grumbled, sitting back on his heels and glaring down at Geralt.

“What?”

“That beard has got to go,” Jaskier muttered, rubbing at his cheek. “If you really want to do the whole ruggedly handsome thing, which by the way, I don’t hate, then I am showing you how to look after a beard. It’ll be as soft as a baby’s bottom.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll shave.” Jaskier just grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What?”

“Or…”

“Jaskier…”

The bard winked, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips in a way that really should be illegal. “If you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Then you’ll let me shave it off. I don’t have a razor but my daggers are plenty sharp enough?”

Geralt blinked, staring up at Jaskier as every single thought he’d ever had left his head. He was suddenly thrown back to the bard’s performance the night before. The way he’d moved, the touches to his skin, the frankly sinful way his body had looked in the corset and tights, an outfit better suited to a whore than a Viscount.

And his voice.

Dark, dangerous, calculating.

The same voice that usually held the warmth of the sun, turned to bitter poison as cold steel flashed in the candle light.

Geralt groaned, pressing his head into Jaskier’s shoulder, as the memory of the bard flipping the daggers in his hands with deadly precision, the edge of the blade glinting as he brushed it against his own neck. It was almost too much to handle, especially now that he’d had a taste of Jaskier, knew the filth the bard’s lips sang in the throes of passion.

“Oh, ho, ho!” Jaskier giggled, his fingers stroking through Geralt’s hair, sending a shiver down his spine. “You like that, don’t you witcher?”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

“Oh no. No, no, no, I am loving this. I mean, I knew you enjoyed the show but I thought it was just the whole-” Jaskier cut himself off with a wave of his hands. “But it was more than that, wasn’t it, Geralt?”

Geralt was in no place to argue. His cock was impossibly hard and aching, trapped underneath his bard as he continued to roll his hips at a torturously slow pace. Jaskier’s cock was also hard as it moved against Geralt’s stomach, leaving a mess of precum on his skin. The sight made Geralt’s mouth water, and he was tempted to forget the whole beard thing, if it just meant that he could get his lips around Jaskier’s cock. Make his bard sing just like he had the night before, but before Geralt could think about manhandling Jaskier into the right position, the bard had leapt to his feet, leaving Geralt weak and wanting alone on the bed.

“Jask,” he breathed, watching the curve of Jaskier’s bare arse as he danced across the room.

“Be with you in a moment, darling,” the bard sang, sweeter than a nightingale.

And Geralt could do nothing but watch helplessly as Jaskier unsheathed the daggers from their holsters. The steel looked sharp and deadly. They were clearly very real weapons, not props, and Geralt felt his head begin to spin with lust. He had to remind himself to breathe, lest he pass out. Jaskier was too busy inspecting the blades to notice Geralt’s predicament, and he ran a long lutist's finger along the sharp edge of the dagger, hissing slightly as it cut into the skin.

“Sharp enough?” he turned to face Geralt, winking as he licked his lips.

Geralt nodded, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. It was a miracle that Jaskier managed to still speak so eloquently even in the height of arousal, when Geralt could barely remember his own name.

“Brilliant!” Jaskier beamed, hopping back across the room without a care for the weapon in his hand.

He was a disaster.

Geralt honestly wasn’t sure how Jaskier hadn’t cut his own dick off. He clearly had no sense of self preservation, and yet Geralt was going to let him press that dagger to his throat.

Perhaps he was the idiot after all.

“Come now, Geralt, off the bed, I don’t want to get hair on the sheets,” Jaskier waved him over, flipping the dagger absentmindedly in one hand.

Geralt just scoffed. “I think there’s worse things on those sheets, Jaskier.”

“Sit!” Jaskier insisted indignantly pointing at the stool by the basin in the corner of the room.

There was no arguing with that, although Geralt did wonder if Jaskier would turn the blade against him, even in jest, and that thought had his cock throbbing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so desperate, probably watching Jaskier perform, the searing jealousy as the fake Geralt and Yennefer lay their hands on Jaskier’s body.

Jaskier took no notice of his inner turmoil, of the raging fire burning inside him. Instead, he hummed an unfamiliar tune under his breath as he readied the dagger for its job. After the passion of the night before, the quiet intimacy was almost too much. Geralt just hummed as he settled into an almost meditative state, letting Jaskier move his head around as he needed to without resistance. The bard pressed his leg between Geralt's, staying still but keeping a gentle pressure on Geralt's cock whilst the blade moved methodically across Geralt's skin.

Every stroke of Jaskier's blade against Geralt's skin sent a wave of arousal through his body. He'd never seen Jaskier as anything more than an annoyance on the battlefield, and the calm stillness of the moment made him see his bard in a new light. He wondered whether Jaskier had been holding back on him this whole time or whether this skill with a blade was something he’d learned in their time apart. Without a witcher to protect him, Jasker had no doubt encountered no end of trouble. He’d ended up in the brothel after all… although it was like no brothel that Geralt had ever been to.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Jaskier breathed almost silently, his lilting voice cutting through the cloud of meditation. Even in his meditation, his senses were locked onto Jaskier, ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. It was an instinct he’d never realised he’d trained into being, it happened so slowly. One day he was wishing that Jaskier would finally get bored and leave, and the next, Geralt knew he would defend the idiot with his life.

But now it seemed Jaskier could hold his own, and that was just fucking hot.

Geralt didn’t know what was happening to himself. Everything he thought he knew was turning on his head, and he was somewhat irrevocably in love with the bard, he’d barely admitted was his friend.

By the time Jaskier was done, the blade smoothly gliding across Geralt’s skin, a finer shave than any barber he’d been to in all his years.

“Geralt, dear heart?”

“Hmm…”

“There you are,” Jaskier cooed, cupping Geralt’s cheek in his hands until Geralt let his eyes flutter open.

Jaskier was gazing back at him, his eyes blown wide and his cheeks flushed. The scent of arousal in the air made Geralt’s head hazy with lust. Before he could even think about what he was doing, Geralt knocked the dagger from Jaskier’s hand, the steel clattering as it flew across the room and bounced on the floor. The bard opened his mouth to protest but Geralt had been aching and hard for too long, and he was desperate to get his mouth back on Jaskier’s skin.

With a yelp, Jaskier was pushed back onto the bed, whining as Geralt teased the tight rim of muscle. Despite their long night of sex, Geralt would need to stretch him again, and he couldn’t wait. He’d found great pleasure in taking apart his cocky arrogant bard with both his tongue and fingers the night before, and he knew he would quite happily spend a whole lifetime doing it again and again. There was no better music than the noises Jaskier made when Geralt had his tongue lapping at the bard’s hole.

Without warning, Jaskier lunged to the edge of the bed, distracting Geralt with the curve of his arse so he didn’t notice what Jaskier was grabbing at until it was too late. The dagger was at his throat forcing him back onto the mattress, the tip of the blade hooking underneath that wolf medallion.

“Gotcha,” Jaskier winked, knocking all the air from Geralt’s lungs in less than a heartbeat.

“Jask,” he breathed, his words slurred as he struggled to see through the fog of lust.

“If I forgive you, witcher, do you promise not to throw me away like that again?” the bard’s eyes burned, but Jaskier saw through the mask to the scared little boy, one so frightened of being abandoned.

“Never again,” he vowed. “I swear.”

Jaskier let out a soft sigh and the tension visibly melted away from his body. “Good enough for me.”

And then he pressed their bodies together once more in a burning kiss that would stay with Geralt for the rest of his life.

[sunset-curve-fantom]

Em Em EM! My friend, my pal, my dear. I could easily have sent you a text over this but it's fine everything's fine. Could I possibly request a Luke x grad student!Reader. I just really need that in my life, and don't currently have the time, energy or focus to write one and also know you'll blow it out of the park if you choose to write it. thank u love u xoxo

SCHOOL OR MUSIC - ALIVE!LUKE X GRAD STUDENT!READER

WARNING; SMUT 18+, UNPROTECTED SEX (ALWAYS WRAP IT KIDS)

A/N: And my dearest Meg- I truly hope you enjoy every aspect of this.

Being a part of Sunset Curve was the biggest highlight of your life, but the moment school became a priority you began to miss band practice more. As grad school was in high gear once again, the band was on the back burner which was never fair. You wanted nothing more than to be there for Luke and the boys but right now your priority had shifted.

“Luke…. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t go between band practice and my grad assignments.” You said, petrified of what he was going to say. You knew he was going to be disappointed and there was nothing you could do about that. Grad School was the greater priority and you hated that you had to leave Luke hanging.

“I know baby, I am so proud of you for being able to figure out what you want. I know school has always been your priority, music has always been mine. You have to do what you feel is right for you… okay?” He said, caressing your cheek which only made the blush on your cheeks intensify.

The tears welled in your eyes as he spoke, he was always so sweet when it came to you. He always tried to make you feel that you were doing the right thing in everything you do.

You just looked deep into his eyes, seeing the love that so clearly overtook his expression. Placing a soft hand to his face, you watched as he melted into your touch. It had always been a world just between the two of you, a world full of perfect harmony.

“Baby… thank you. I know it’s been crazy, and I had to take a break from the music. But this is going to be so worth it. I am trying to get through school and be apart of your world at the same time.” Was all you could find the words to say.

Luke has been your world for so long and you wanted nothing more than to be with him in the present. For 3 years you had been by his side through every act, every lyric, and now it was his turn to be by your side.

“Don’t you worry about it, this band will be here whenever you want to return but right now, school is your focus period.” Luke knew the right words, no matter what needed to be said. He led you over to the couch before taking his guitar in his grasp.

“I wrote you a song… it is how I feel about you in every aspect of my life. You are my greatest adventure, and I could not be more thankful for you and what you bring into my world.” He said, as he began to strum his guitar.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I'll hold your music here inside my hands

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

 Tears rushed to your eyes as you listened to the soft words fall off his lips, you knew every word was meant for you. He was sharing his heart in the only way he knew how- through his music. He never knew how to open his heart until he met you. You opened him to new perspectives, and he was so grateful.

“I didn’t know how to tell you how I was feeling unless it was through my music. You are my whole world Y/N, and I had to tell you that. I love you more than music could ever explain to you.” He said, a faint blush was on his cheeks as put his feelings into words.

A vibrant blush spread onto your cheeks as you placed a soft kiss to his lips. The only way to confirm your feelings for him as well, it was as clear as music was to Luke.

“In case you missed it, I love you too” You said, the vibrant blush still presence as you hid your face in his shoulder. It was the greatest moment of clarity between the both of you as a couple… until the next few weeks.

They were filled with stress and an overwhelming amount of homework. The stress was clearly getting to you as you barely had any time to see Luke and the guys, even though you had basically moved yourself into the practice garage to study. As paper were thrown around the room as the band was trying to write, it was like both of you were distracted with the idea of each other.

As the final’s papers scattered around the room, as well as on your desk. You barely heard Luke come up behind you as you scribbled down some notes. He was peaking over your shoulder trying to understand the synopsis of Hamlet as you quickly wrote about it.

As you felt Luke’s hot breath on your neck, you turned to face this intrigued man who was trying to comprehend something that he did not remotely understand. A giggle erupted from your lips as his brow was scrunched from confusion.

As your rose from your seat to reach his height, the confusion seemed to fade. As a small smile played on his lips.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked as you pushed his hair out his eyes, as it peaked out from under his orange beanie.

His smile deepened at the gesture, as he pecked a small kiss to your forehead as he moved to the desk behind you. The confusion was now etched on your face instead of his as he was admiring all your work. You followed him with your eyes as he rounded the back of the desk facing you once again.

His arms leaned against the desk as he stared at you with this intensity. You began to wipe your cheeks as if something were there and he just chuckled, biting his lip.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You said, brushing your cheeks again as a vibrant blush became more prominent on your face.

A smile appeared on his features as his eyes lit up, a small blush appearing. As he leaned across the table, almost to tease you with his expression. As you leaned across the table to catch his lips in yours. He hesitantly pulled back, biting his lip once again.

As you drew back from the table, giving him a look of utter confusion. He got this mischievous smile on his features as he cleared the table sending the papers flying around the room. As he crawled over the table to reach the front of you, taking your lips in his.

You melted into his touch, as butterflies overtook your body. He never failed to make you fall deeper in love with each touch. He laced his arm around your waist, tugging you against his chest. Making the blush on your face grow more vibrant with each passing moment.

A giggle erupted from your lips as he held you tight, he leaned down a little before picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. In doing so, he placed you down on the table as he began to nip as your neck.

 IF YOU YOUNG, IT IS TIME TO GO AWAY NOW 18+

 A soft moan escaped your lips as he found your sensitive spot. You could feel his smile grow as his hands began to roam your body more, he carefully took off your band tee. Underneath was your white lace bralette, Luke couldn’t help but bite his lip as he took in your appearance. He carefully reached behind you, unhooking your bralette with one hand. He was too smooth for his own good.

“Can I help you?” you said seductively as his hands continued to run over your exposed flesh. You carefully tugged at the bottom of his tee, exposing his toned chest with his necklaces hitting against his collarbone.

He growled as he gripped your hips tightly, “You have no idea what you are doing to me”

“Well then show me” was all you had to say before you were laid out on your back on your work desk. Luke was on top of you, roaming your exposed skin. He began to kiss down your collarbone and onto your breasts, creating small love bites as he made his way down your body.

Small groans began to escape your mouth as you tugged on the back of his hair. A small growl came from Luke as he made his way to the waist band of your leggings, slowly lowering them exposing your lace white thong.

All he could think about was your matching set, and how incredibly attracted he was to you in this moment.

He continued to trail kisses down to the hem of your thong, slowly lowering it down your pleasure ridden body. He continued to press kisses to the inside of your thighs, his hot breath meeting your heat as he got closer to you.

You began to wiggle under his grasp, as he began to lick up and down your slit. Carefully sucking on your clit, causing a loud moan to escape your throat. You could feel him laugh softly as he went back to pleasuring you. You could feel your orgasm beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.

Soon your orgasm began to wash over you, all you could do was buck your lips as his name fell continuously from your mouth. As he lapped up your orgasm, he was staring deep into your eyes with this hunger evident.

As you caught your breath, you sat up on the edge of the table, pulling him close to you. You leaned into him, and began talking in just above a whisper, “And how is it that I am wearing less clothes than you Luke?”

A smirk fell onto his lips, as he popped the top button of his jeans. Slowly lowering them down his legs, his orange boxers coming into view as he exposed his hard cock. You couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip as you watched him in front of you.

“Like what you see” the smirk evident still as he began to lower his boxers, as his cock sprang free. A small moan escaped your throat as you watched him in front of you. You hooked him with your legs, pulling him close to your heat.

You began to lay back onto the desk, as he crawled on top of you. You could feel his cock brushing up against you heat, he slowly began to lower himself into you. A moan escaped you as you felt yourself being stretched out by his cock.

He looked deep into your eyes, making sure he was okay to move before he did so. Slowly his pace began to speed up, causing the desk to shift underneath the both of you. Small growls began to escape his mouth as his brow began to furrow. The pleasure was overwhelming for the both of you.

He pinned your hands above your head with one of his large hands as he reached down to rub your clit. You could feel your eyes rolling back into your head as an orgasm was on the brink of exploding.

“i-uh-I-I I am gonna-” you began as he pressed a hard kiss to your lips as you scratched as his back. You could feel yourself beginning to pulse around his cock, as his thrusts began to become sloppy.

He growled under his breath as you pulsed around him, you could feel his throbbing as he began to shoot his load deep inside of you. Feeling the warmth spread in the pit of your stomach, you both just stayed in this position for some time. As you both were trying to catch your breath.

You quickly pressed a soft kiss to his lips, as a smile erupted from him. The happiness was evident in his voice, “I thought you needed a good distraction”

You laughed at his remark, “Well it was a pretty decent distraction”

His smile got bigger, he opened his mouth to say something before you both heard Alex and Reggie outside the garage doors. Quickly you picked up your clothes, running into the bathroom and leaving Luke to fend for himself.

You were almost done getting dressed before you realized that you grabbed Luke’s tee instead of your own band tee. So now the interaction you just have was going to be clear to the guys.

With a blush coating your face, you made your way back to your work desk as Luke’s blush was growing. Reggie was clearly oblivious to the situation, but Alex- Alex knew something was up.

“Oh my god- you guys fucked! Ew on the desk… seriously?” Alex said, doing a little dance while Reggie was just a confused as before.

Alex was running around with Lysol, spraying every area that you both could have touched. Luke began to laugh and gave you one last remark, “At least I was a good distraction for you, Ms. Grad School.”

TAGLIST:

@notasofti @julies-molina @parkeret @calamitykaty @kcd15 @crybabyddl @all-in-fangirl @gia-kerks @morganayennefertyrell @dancethroughthethunder @imsydneywalker @thee-ava-mariee

[protosspals]

The ABCs of Starcraft: A is for Alarak and Artanis

((My friend and I have come up with a prompt list for the full alphabet and will be writing one shots for each letter. Today’s prompt is for the letter A and I chose the dearest Highlord Alarak and Hierarch Artanis together.)) 

The night was dark and stormy which was the type of night Alarak preferred. The flashes of lighting through the purple mist of Terrazine that covered his planet at this time was soothing to him. This was where he had been born and where he had fought his way up using wits and claw to claim his right to rule. It was all his now, yet... 

“When is Artanis supposed to arrive Martal? Should he not have been here by now? Perhaps I should devise a punishment for his lateness. It’s not proper to keep your Highlord waiting after all.” He grumbled, his mood as volatile as the storm raging around them. 

“Hierarch Artanis and his fleet have arrived Highlord. They are orbiting the planet now and waiting for the storm to pass so they might have a safer landing.” Martal chirped in his robotic tone as he hovered nearby his leader prepared to do any task demanded of him.  “Of course he would fear the storm, the Khalai are a bunch of cowards. By this point, he might as well just tuck tail and return home to Aiur.” He said returning from where he had been pacing in the middle of his room to look out the window again. 

“Shall I send word to them to leave? Or would you rather I go and retrieve the Hierarch for you personally my Highlord?” Martal asked hs sensor seeming to shine more brightly with the idea of kidnapping the Hierarch from under the watch his guards surely had in him. Alarak had to admit, the thought of Artanis’ look of outrage in such an event and the chaos it would cause was tempting. 

“No. Not this time. Send Ji’nara to... politely escort the Hierarch to our meeting place. Specify to her to let Artanis know that if a bit of thunder is going to keep him away, he might as well leave for there will be nothing here for him any longer. The festival ends with daybreak anyway.” He finally said and with his mind made up, he left the room to make his way to the designated location they had discussed for this event. 

The Festival of the Blood Rose was an annual event for the Tal’darim. Once per Slayn’s solar orbit (a time which took half of what it would be an Earth year) there would be a break in the Chain of Ascension. For that one night, movement up and down the chain was untethered by your current position. It allowed those who were young and strong to gain positions as Ascendants without wanton murder of all those above them. It also was the night of marriages. 

In Tal’darim tradition, they did not ask for marriage, they took the right. In the past that had lead to positions of unhappiness, one Alarak knew well as his own mother had been claimed by a cruel man she did not love due to her beauty. Alarak had changed things. Now the claim could be challenged, by both the one being claimed or one that agreed to fight in their stead. This allowed the tradition to continue in a way his people were used to, but gave those without as much power the opportunity to protect themselves through appointing someone stronger to fight the claim for them. It wasn’t perfect, but he had more plans to implement in the future to further protect those who didn’t want the marriage from being forced into it. 

However, tonight, that was not what was important to him. Tonight, the most important thing was that Artanis was going to be participating in the celebrations. He might have been a bit vague about things, but he knew Artanis would forgive him or it... eventually. Alarak was going to take what he wanted just as he always had. Khalai customs of giving gifts and going on silly dates was just so tedious and boring. 

Of course, if Artanis didn’t even bother to show up in time then Alarak couldn’t claim him since he wasn’t part of the chain. It would ruin everything. So of course he was upset. 

Artanis was nervous the lightning could affect the warp beam, but at the second and third messages, he rolled his eyes and acquiesced.

Landing at the approved location in his full ceremonial armor, he looked around just as Alarak's second approached, his head bow to her answered in kind before she started walking away, an obvious silent request to follow her which he took, his required guards the council had sent with him like he was a child following along obediently. He huffed in mild annoyance at the whole situation, they swiftly migrated through the city to the edge of the arena. His name was submitted to the lists before he emerged, bright and visible in his white and gold among the crowds of black.

Alarak had been sitting sideways in his throne which was placed in a box above the arena where he could watch everything easily but he perked up and sat forward when he finally saw Artanis step onto the field. The Hierarch looked glorious as ever in his polished armor but Alarak knew Artanis wouldn't mind staining the set with a little extra blue from battle. He was excited to watch.

There were many warriors eager to challenge not just a Khalai, but the Hierarch himself and Artanis had countless battles to wade through, the healers endlessly busy thanks to him. When he was finally allowed a break, he sat to clean some of the blood off, his muscles warmed albeit covered in sweat as lightning crashed in both the atmosphere and his eyes when he began again. He would prove his place amongst these people and earn the unity he so desperately wanted with them. Not just due to their Highlord either. 

After Artanis had proven himself enough to the Tal'darim people and earned himself a rank amongst the Ascendants, Alarak finally lost his patience. He waited for the current battle to finish before standing up and demanding the attention of his people.

"You have seen the grace and power of the Hierarch of the Daelaam, many of you now have felt the sting of his blades. He has earned his place as a warrior of our highest rankings. So now, before you all, before any others dare to cast their gaze on what's mine, I claim Hierarch Artanis as my own. Let any who oppose my claim speak their challenge now!" He said, his eyes and voice echoing with power as he stepped from his box into the air, a red cloud of power forming at his feet to carry him carefully to the ground in front of Artanis.

Blue eyes narrowed as Artanis glared at him, blades fizzling out so he could cross his arms. "So... this is why you invited me. I challenge you then, Highlord. For my own hand."

Alarak eyes squinted with joy and approval. "I would expect nothing else Hierarch." He said back as he stepped back into the starting position on his side of the field adrenaline already rushing through his veins. He had longed for this fight since they first met, now he would not lose.

Psionic plate and pauldrons shifting around for a power boost, he took his place and lit one blade, holding it up to his face in a silent challenge to Alarak before they ran at one another, their weapons meeting with a thud of psionics.

It was like watching two copies of one being, one dark and one light, just smashing into one another like titans, Artanis even tossing his opponent a good distance before chasing after him. He couldn't afford to lose or the Daelaam would be seen as weaker, his claws digging into dark armor.

The Arena seemed to be getting damaged more than either opponent, walls getting cracked as they threw each other into them, dirt ground beneath them being torn up by their claws. Their armor suffered as well, one of Alarak's large energy gathering shoulder plates getting broken off.

The battle was long and fierce, both Tal'darim and Khalai cheering for their leaders and watching on the edge of their seats at near misses. But finally, it was Alarak who stumbled. If it had been a fight to the death, he could of won. He had a perfect shot to take Artanis' head from his shoulders and almost acted on it in the heat of the battle. Only to have the thought freeze his muscles and it gave Artanis the opening he needed to take him down and pin him to the ground.

The lightning above illuminated Artanis as he slammed Alarak down so hard the jutting daggers in his armor embedded into the dirt, the wide grey chest heaving within the metallic confines while his knees pinned the black claws, blue power building in one hand. "Yield, Highlord."

Alarak looked into his eyes feeling the crushing blow of defeat weigh heavily in his hearts but knew he had failed. "I yield!" He yelled out so it could be heard clearly and closed his eyes feeling anger roll under his skin before he let it pass knowing he wasn't actually angry as much as disappointed in himself.

The Templar let go of his power just as a bolt struck, banishing it into the earth around them before he stood to pry Alarak from his entrapment.

Helping him stabilize, he kept a hand on the Tal'darim as he yelled for all their people to hear too. "I claim Highlord Alarak as my own! Let any who oppose my claim speak their challenge now!"

Alarak blinked, not having expected that. But the surprise only lasted a moment before it was covered with a cocky and well-worn expression. "Awww you were playing hard to get. I knew there was a reason I chose you." He said flicking Artanis' crest.

"I accept your claim through my defeat. I am yours." He said to finish the claim since he couldn't deny Artanis' right to it after being defeated.

Artanis relaxed as they started to walk off the field together so the festivities could continue. "Stubborn Tal'darim. You could have just asked."

"That is not the Tal'darim way and to do so would be a dishonor to you Artanis. I treated you as I would have any Tal'darim. I could have won but I didn't want to hurt your pride. This way will let my people respect you and the Daelaam more anyway. It was all part of my plan." Alarak said, no longer any doubt or sign of weakness to be seen. In fact, he looked even more cocky than usual. 

Artanis rolled his eyes knowing the truth but letting Alarak say what he wanted. They both had won in the end and that was what mattered. 

[thepixelmoon]

Perseus - The beginning of the end

Another Andromeda Six drabble featuring one of my travellers, Perseus Peg’asi, the day everything changed. 

Disclaimer: The A6 crew, Vexx, Nerissa and the rest of the Peg’asi royal family all belong to @andromeda-six and Perseus is an original character created by me.

Warning: angst, guns, violence, gunshot wounds (not graphic), mentions of death. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

With a frown, Perseus looks in the mirror and adjusts his ceremony attire, smoothing down any visible wrinkles in the dark blue fabric. His scarred face stares back at him in silent reproach, and he does his best to ignore it as he steps away.

Sorenn is getting married today. It is supposed to be a day full of happiness and cheer, bright smiles and nice food. Perseus is expected to be there for a change, but he’s decided he has other plans.

Vexx has been gone for a while, and nobody’s bothered to give Perseus a plausible reason for his disappearance. Perhaps he’s been transferred, they said. Maybe he got fired, others commented. But none of that feels right; he’s the closest thing Perseus has to a friend, and he refuses to believe Vexx would just leave without a word. He’s determined to find him, and this is probably the only chance he’s going to get in god knows how long.

As he determinedly makes his way towards one of the many passages that lead out of the palace, he checks that the hallways are empty before venturing further. So far he’s been lucky, but as far as luck is concerned, he knows it isn’t bound to last long.

“Perseus?” Nerissa’s voice snaps him out of his calculations as he’s getting ready to cross the corridor towards the big portrait of one of their ancestors.

He calmly stops in his tracks, his jaw tightening.

“Sister,” he turns to her, offering a small nod.

“What are you doing over here? The ceremony is about to start,” she asks, then glances over at the portrait painting. “Oh.”

She knows.

He follows her glance, then looks back at her to hold her gaze.

“I have to find him.” He straightens up, squaring his shoulders. “He can’t have just vanished. He has to be somewhere.”

Nerissa’s frown softens into a sad smile that almost makes Perseus recoil in anger.

It’s full of pity.

“Does it have to be today?” she simply asks, making no attempt at stopping him. “Sorenn is excited to have you there. You’re his little brother.”

“Funny how I’m his little brother today, and not for the past twenty-three years of my life.” He gives a bitter laugh, the repressed anger slowly bubbling up inside him. “Where was he the day our dearest father almost cut my bloody face in half? Where were Auberon and Ecko, Noa, or Elettra? Apart from you, where was everybody?” his voice keeps rising with each question, echoing off the walls.

Nerissa doesn’t flinch, though. She’s practically raised Perseus, since their parents seemed to often forget he even existed, as did most of their siblings. She knows him too well to be scared in the face of one of his outbursts, and it’s also because of it that she knows it’s pointless to try to convince him to stay.

“Perseus, I—”

“Save it. Don’t try to excuse them. Don’t excuse him,” he snarls through clenched teeth. It’s pretty obvious who he’s referring to.

With a tentative hand, Nerissa reaches into her pocket and produces a small, shiny silver ball that she places on Perseus’ hand before he has a chance to withdraw it. He eyes it with a frown.

“Why are you giving me the music box?”

“I know it was my gift for your eighteenth birthday, but if you’re doing to leave, I want you to have it. I want you to remember this, remember me, in case something happens.”

Perseus’ frown deepens.

“Why would anything happen? I’m just going to find Vexx, and then I’ll return.”

Nerissa smiles and shakes her head, closing his hand around the kitalphanite music box.

“Just keep it, will you?” she insists. “Please.”

There’s something in her eyes he cannot quite place, something that hadn’t been there before. A shadow, a sort of dread and sadness that make his skin crawl. Unwilling to give it any more thought, he slips the music box into his pocket and gives his sister a firm nod.

“I’ll… see you soon.” His voice almost breaks. Almost. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”

She just nods in reply and places her hand on his cheek, gently swiping her thumb across it. The touch is gone in an instant, though, as Perseus quickly steps away and covers his head with a hood. He disappears into the shadows of the passage behind the portrait without a last glance or word, his scar throbbing with pain.

He’s about to reach the bridge that separates the Gold and Silver Districts when it happens.

The ground shakes and rumbles beneath his feet, the sudden echo of an explosion resounding through the city. When Perseus whips around to locate the source of the noise, his breath dies in his throat.

Half of the palace has been blown up and the other half is almost completely engulfed in flames; the windows shattered, the walls collapsed, the trees in the gardens uprooted.

A string of ear-splitting screams reaches Perseus’ ears as the people around him realise what just happened. Some run past screaming, dragging little children behind them, while others stand and stare in horror at the enormous chaos unfurling before their very eyes.

The sound of gunshots is what snaps Perseus out of his shocked trance. Masked strangers in all-black uniforms are opening fire against all the Orsanna Guard officers they come across, as well as any civilians nearby. Bodies fall limp to the ground and Perseus doesn’t think twice before making a run for it—he can’t go back to the palace, so he rushes to the bridge, dodging a few bullets as he goes.

Grenades fly into the buildings and houses, many of them blowing up at the same time. Perseus’ ears are ringing heavily as he tries to find some cover to avoid getting crushed by the debris. He jumps over a fallen tree trunk and sprints towards the bridge, breath coming out in short gasps, until something makes him stop.

In the midst of all the chaos, a child is crying helplessly, clutching her mother’s dead body. She can’t be older than four or five.

“Mum! Mummy, wake up!” she calls, gently shaking her mother.

Those who are still alive or not badly injured are heading for the bridge, paying no mind to the poor child. Perseus’ heart seizes in his chest as he spots one of the masked attackers pointing their gun at the little girl from the other side of the street, and before he knows it he’s grabbing a brick and tossing it at their head. It smacks them right in the face and they fall backwards, their gun slipping from their hands.

Perseus wastes no time. He crosses the street, scoops the little girl up into his arms and takes the attacker’s gun.

“No! No! Mummy!” she screams, tears sliding down her face as they leave the body behind. “Let me go!”

“We have to go!” Perseus replies, running as fast as his legs can manage.

He doesn’t recognise his own voice. He hasn’t sounded so terrified before.

The bridge eventually comes into view. By the time they reach it, the little girl is clinging to his neck like a lifeline, but Perseus manages to set her down on the ground.

“You have to run now, as fast as you can, and don’t look back,” he tells her, breathless. “No matter what, don’t look back, understood? Go somewhere safe, and—agh!”

A searing pain cuts through his left calf, the sound of a gunshot echoing around them. Some stray bullet must have finally hit him. Groaning, he’s forced onto his hands and knees as little spots of light dance in the corners of his eyes.

“Go now!” he screams, reaching out and pushing the little girl into the crowd. “GO!”

Sobbing, the little girl hesitates for a moment, but later does as told and takes off, disappearing into the mass of people crossing the bridge. Perseus focuses on breathing deeply through clenched teeth, gripping the gun tightly in his left hand. If only he could lean on something to get back on his feet…

His vision is starting to become blurry as he drags himself towards the bridge, the concrete burning hot under his fingertips and the smell of dust and gunpowder flooding his senses.

His whole family is dead. Nerissa, his brothers and sisters, the King and Queens. All the officers in Orsanna’s Guard. Vexx, too, probably, if he was still in Silta Vie.

He has nothing left. Literally everything and everyone he thought he had is gone, and he’s lying face down in the concrete with a (probably nasty) bullet wound in his leg.

He’d laugh at the irony of it if he had the strength to do so.

He cries instead. The pain, the loss, the loneliness suddenly weighing down on him are unbearable.

He can’t move; the pain running up his leg is too much. It’s starting to become limp, so he refuses to take a look at it because he knows it’s not looking good.

He remembers the sorrow in Nerissa’s eyes just a few moments prior, the warmth of her hand against his cheek when she stroked it. The fact that that’s the last memory he’ll ever have of his sister is enough to make him scream in agony.

There’s another explosion, a much bigger one, and a lot closer to him. Perseus’ ears start ringing again as pieces of concrete and rubble fly in every direction, barely missing him. The shock wave that comes after is huge, so much that he has to cover his head with his arms to prevent any further damage as his body is rolled backwards against the ruins of a nearby building.

Still unable to hear a thing, Perseus forces his eyes open to see what’s going on.

The bridge has collapsed. The explosion must have been what destroyed it.

Smoke and dust fill his lungs as Perseus tries to draw a breath, causing him to cough and retch. Black spots start to dance in his vision as he leans back against the concrete, his body going limp.

Who would do this?

It’s suddenly really hard to keep his eyes open.

Who would think they have the right to decide who lives and dies?

Darkness envelops him. He feels like he’s a sinking ship in the middle of the sea. He wants to speak, scream, yell. But nothing comes out.

Is this how I’m going to die?

I don’t want to die.

A beat.

“Here! There’s someone here!” a voice calls, far away. “He’s alive!”

[orenmin]

Massage (haechan x reader)

Pairing: Haechan x fem! reader

Warnings: SMUT!! Swearing!!

Summary: Another casual day with your bff haechan leads to him giving you a back massage... but what happens when the noises you make get haechan’s imagination going?

You threw yourself onto Donghyuck’s bed, not really caring that you messed up the previously perfectly folded sheets.

“Y/nnnnn, I literally just made my bed,” he whined as he closed the door to his room, clearly frustrated about the mess you were already making. A sigh left his lips as he ruffled his chestnut coloured hair, plopping himself down next to you.

“What you wanna watch?” You said as you rolled around his bed, remote in hand, randomly switching through channels.

“Literally anything,” Haechan groaned, boredom evident in his voice.

Usually, the two of you would be doing god knows what, probably making noise and annoying the hell out of his roommates. But it was already past nine and the rest of them told you off for almost blowing up the kitchen, so now you were stuck in his room, aimlessly switching channels.

“Ughhh. Why can’t you just tell the rest of the dreamies to fuck off? There’s nothing to do here!” You whined as you wiggled your way over to him, laying on your back and resting your head in his lap.

“Because they pay as much of the rent as I do, and I can’t afford to get kicked out,” he replied and looked down at your unamused face, trying to move some misplaced hair strands back where they belonged. Your eyes met, and you stayed like that for a while, both failing to break away from the other.

He liked you. it was obvious.

What he didn’t know was that you felt the same way about him.

Once you were sure that your cheeks were a shade redder than they were supposed to be, you briskly turned away, almost falling off the bed in the process.

“My back hurts,” was the first thing that you thought off to break the slowly awkward turning silence.

“What?” Haechan chuckled at your randomness, hoping you would expand on your sudden exclamation. You panicked. and when you panicked, your brain worked in mysterious ways, letting you come up with a sentence that made more sense.

“What I meant to say was; Hyuck, my dearest and bestest friend, please give me a back massage,” You finally managed to say, giving him a pleading look. He rolled his eyes and sat facing the TV, patting the space between his legs for you to join him. Crawling over to him, you sat between his legs, your back inches away from his chest.

“Gosh you’re so annoying, you know that right?” Hyuck spoke as he began to work his magic on your back, slowly getting you to relax.

“Only for you,” You answered, pretending to pay attention to the random show playing on the screen in front of you. In all honesty, all your thoughts were actually focused on the boy behind you, and just how perfect he was. How perfectly his hair framed his face, and how soothing his honey-like voice was when he spoke to you.

Haechan continued to apply pressure to your shoulder blades, hitting just the right spots. His fingers perfectly kneaded against the knots in your muscles, giving you the right amounts of pleasure. The way his hands felt through the thin fabric of your shirt clouded your mind, and soon, your thoughts were going in all sorts of wrong directions.

Suddenly, you were more aware of his every touch, of his every warm breath, which gently fanned the nape of your neck. The sensation of his fingers was enhanced, and the fact that your butt was gently pressed up against his crotch didn’t help.

“Ahh, Hyuck,” a satisfied whimper escaped your lips, and you felt Haechan’s voice hitch against your skin.The way his hands were working their way around your shoulders triggered reactions you didn’t even know you could muster up. You played it off as nothing, both of you trying to focus on the actors on TV.

But, it was hard. Especially since your butt was pressed up against his now slowly growing bulge.

His hands moved down your body, now massaging your lower back, and you didn’t know how sensitive that area was until another moan escaped your lips. Now not only were you worried that Hyuck would notice how turned on you were, but you were also worried of what this sounded like to the rest of his roommates.

On the other hand, Haechan was trying to hold back from breaking out into a sweating mess. He couldn’t take his mind off of how perfect your figure looked in front of him, how perfectly your waist fit in his hands. Not to talk about the slight friction you created against his crotch every time you shifted.

You were slowly loosing your mind, your senses clouded by the thoughts of your best friend. His cologne was evident in the air, and his hot breath was now hitting your earlobe, making all your hairs stand on end. His grip on your waist tightened, pressing a sensitive spot, and you unintentionally arched your back, accidentally rubbing your ass against his bulge.

“Y/n...” a breathy moan rolled off his tongue and you both froze in your position, neither willing to move a muscle.

Fuck it

You knew what you were about to do could ruin your friendship, and frankly, you were too horny to care.

You pressed yourself against him and rolled your head back, letting it rest on his shoulder.

“Just fuck me already, Donghyuck,” what left your mouth sounded a tad bit needier than you hoped, but you honestly weren’t bothered.

At first he seemed confused, but it didn’t take long for him to lift you up, turning you around to straddle him. The look in his eyes was something of a mix between lust and relief.

“Y/n...” he whispered against your lips, your foreheads touching. You gave him a reassuring nod, and that was all it took for him to bring you closer by your hips, smashing his soft lips against yours.

Fireworks exploded in your mind as you grabbed onto his shoulders, letting your lips dance to an unknown rhythm. Even though your eyes were closed, you could tell Hyuck was smiling by the way his lips curled against yours. If it was any other day, you would have melted into the moment, but right now you were needy.

So you gripped his shoulders tighter, lightly grinding down on his bulge, desperate for some sort of friction. He moaned into the kiss and bucked his hips towards you, gripping your hips and pushing you down onto him. The moment was so heated you almost forgot to open your mouth, finally letting Haechan deepen the kiss. Your tongues played around as you both continued to enjoy the friction between your legs, Hyuck getting harder by the second.

He separated his lips from yours, only to trail a soft line of kisses from your jaw and down to your neck. He began to suck on the soft skin of your collarbones, drawing sweet mewls to roll off your tounge, like little pleas for him to do something other than tease.

“Someone’s impatient,” Hyuck whispered with a rather smug smile lacing his features.

“Shut up,” you whined in return, playfully hitting him on the chest. Your actions were quickly halted when he grabbed your wrists and flipped you around, pinning you to the soft covers of his bed. His lips found their way back to your own, starting a rather passionate kiss this time as his hands slowly traveled down your body. You moaned into the kiss when his hands stayed on your ass, lightly kneading the flesh.

“Hyuck stop- ahh” your words were interrupted by Haechan pressing two fingers against your clothed core.

“What’s that sunshine? Want me to stop?” He cooed in your ear as his fingers continued to make circular motions between your legs, stimulating a string of moans to escape your mouth. The sensation was overwhelming itself, and you were already nearing your finish.

And that’s why, when the presence of his fingers suddenly left you, you let out a disappointed whine, almost bucking your hips to follow his hand.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet from now on, or else I might have to stop,” he whispered in your ear and came back to kiss you one more time, before he lowered his way to your collarbones. Soon after, his hands tugged at the hem of your shirt, skillfully removing it from your body. You shivered once the cool air made contact with your skin, but heat quickly took over you when Hyuck’s gaze met yours, lust evident behind his eyes.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” he muttered as he let his hands roam around your body, his head lowering to kiss the valey between your breasts. He continued to trail his kisses down your torso, stopping at your shorts and looking up at you. Biting your lip in anticipation, you tightened your grip on the now completely crumbled sheets underneath you.

The gaze in his eyes was coated with layers of love and lust as the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. Hyuck pulled down your shorts with one hand as his other rested on your hip, keeping you in place. You whimpered when his teeth grazed your skin as he bit your panty line, bringing your underwear down with his teeth.

Your cheeks turned crimson once you were completely exposed to him and you tried closing your legs, but Donghyuck had his hands on your thighs, his grip preventing you from doing anything.

“Hyuck stop making me wait,” you whined once more, tugging on the fabric of his shirt.

And in seconds he was on it, first lightly applying pressure to your folds, and then slowly inserting a digit. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from morning out loud and bringing attention to the activities you and Haechan were doing. He slowly moved his finger, enjoying the way your face looked while he pleasured you.

After he saw fit, he added another finger, and ohjesusfuckingchrist did you see stars. He started thrusting his fingers in and out of you, latching his lips onto your neck and creating pretty little marks all over the flesh. The only thing keeping you from moaning out his name out loud was the fact that you were now biting on your finger, your eyes hooded from the pleasure you were getting. The knot in your abdomen was clearly building up, and you could almost feel your finish.

But as soon as the sensation was there, it was gone. Hyuck has removed his fingers from you, teasingly licking your juices off his digits before climbing back over you.

“Please, Hyuck..” a breathy plead left your lips as your chest heaved up and down from your rapid breathing.

“Please what, sunshine?” He gave you another smirk, teasingly tracing circles on your inner thigh, awfully close to your throbbing core.

“Please just fuck me,” again sounding more desperate than you wanted to, you innocently looked at Haechan, making him want to take you right there and then.

He stood up to remove his pants, his painfull erection clearly visible through his boxers. He took those off too, climbing back over you and positioning himself in front of your entrance. But despite the heat of the moment, he still looked at you with soft eyes, making sure one more time that you were ok with this.

You gave him a reassuring smile and he smiled back, the teeth showing grin that made you fall in love with him lacing his cute features. Though the softness of the moment quickly disappeared, the lustful weather from before falling upon the room again. The tip of his member teased your entrance, making you grip his shoulders, leaving marks with your fingernails. And then, without a warning, he slammed his full length inside you, the delicious stretch evoking a moan you couldn’t hold back.

Hyuck gave you a stern look, gripping your hips harder in a way that would surely leave marks later. But currently that’s not what mattered.

He slowly started thrusting into you, moving his whole dick out before slamming back in. Though the movements were slow and sensual, they were still hard, leaving you quitting underneath you best friend. Hyuck quickened his pace, fueled by the fucked out expression on your face. His thrusts were getting irregular and you could tell he was close by the way he sloppily kissed you, not caring how messy it was.

The room was now filled with panting at the sound of skin slapping against skin, the temperature of your bodies radiating around you.

“Ah.. H-Hyuck.. I’m close,” you managed to whine between your not so quiet moans. Your walls tightened around his quickly moving member, both of you nearing your orgasm.

“Shit...” Haechan groaned in your ear as he released his cum inside you, continuing to move his hips until you spill your juices all over him. He helped you ride out your finish, lazily thrusting into you a few more times before collapsing next to you.

You were both still panting, but his hand never left yours, your fingers intertwined. He rolled over on his side, resting his head in his hand so that he was looking at you. He admired your features, his eyes taking in everything from your half closed eyes to your parted, swollen lips. To him, you were beautiful, even in a situation like this.

You visibly shivered and he brought the covers over you both, covering your sweaty forms. Finally, you looked over at him, slightly blushing once the acts of before dawned on you.

“You know I like you right?” Hyuck suddenly whispered, moving the strands of hair that were stuck to your cheek away.

“I’ve liked you for a long time now, and I know this is so sudden and you probably don’t wanna damage our friendship but-“ you cut off his rambling by pressing your lips to his, this time in a way gentler manner.

“I like you too you fool,” you whispered against his lips, looking at him as lovingly as you possibly could. And just as you were about to kiss again, the door of the room was burst open, a clapping and whistling group of boys entering. The room erupted into laughs as both you and Haechan hid underneath the pillows, hoping to avoid this embarrassing moment.

The boys continued screaming and hyping you up as they left, one of them shouting before closing the door.

“Took you guys long enough!”

And with that you sheepishly smiled, hiding your bright red face in the crook of Hyuck’s neck as he hugged you close.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, KAT! You’ve been accepted for the role of OTHELLO. Admin Rosey: So, one thing that’s really difficult to highlight without overemphasizing is Othello’s dichotomy and his constant conflict. Sometimes you can focus so wholly on one aspect of a character that it’s overwhelming. But Kat, you write Odin so effortlessly, so FREAKING effortlessly that you capture it throughout the application as an integral part of his character -- interweaving it into the plot, the sample, even the “what drew you to this character” section. I am completely blown away and utterly terrified of what havoc you’re going to wreak on the dash. I am screaming over this application and I always will, time and time again. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Kat Age | 25 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | OK so my classes went online and my job has cut staff in half so I have so much free time and so much muse. Listen…. LISTEN I know I’m not always reliable but it’s game time lemme say like at least twice a week, I’m here for the haul let’s write baby!!!!!!!!!!! Timezone | EST How did you find the rp? | I originally came across it in the lsrpg tag, also my girl Taryn recommended it and also I miss y’all :( Current/Past RP Accounts | These are links to inactive past accounts:

https://neosy.tumblr.com/ https://grchcmisms.tumblr.com/ https://99gael.tumblr.com/ https://halogenq.tumblr.com/ https://odinbellc.tumblr.com/ ;) https://pavellam.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Othello, Odin Bello – requesting faceclaim change to Trevante Rhodes :^) What drew you to this character? |

Through my first experience writing Odin I learned a lot about both him and myself as a writer. He was initially a challenge for me because at my roots I was never someone successful in writing characters with good intent, the easier side of him being the one of violence and chaos, something that was difficult considering more often than not… that isn’t who Odin is, or more fittingly, who he wants to be. I struggled with his daily life, the man he tries so hard to be and who he’s used to becoming over the years and I realized that was the key in; the struggle. I’ve teetered around writing for a while recently, the desire and the muse not being there for me when I remembered my dear, dear, Odin and for a split second I wondered about him. Such an interesting thing, to wonder about a character, to dive deep into your mind’s eye and ask, “How is he doing, I wonder? The man of gold and copper, the being of olympus and hades? How is my boy?” And realizing the responsibility of creating and finding that out is all mine. It felt like seeing a past lover in the check out line, wide eyes as you remember the missed calls and blocked number, and realize how fuckin’ good they look today and, damn, were stupid for leaving them.

Dearest Odin, please take me back. I miss you so dearly. I’ll try hard not to leave you so suddenly this time, that was my bad.

Who am I to fool myself? My heart always brings me back to him. Feed me an optimist with nothing but a history of failure, rocks beating down on a pristine marble surface til the cracks spell misery. It’s all his fault, the pain, suffering, and failure… but he tries so hard. It’s as if he’s doomed from the beginning, the first cries from his mouth as a child, a bad omen, the first steps he takes, the small tottering of a baby, were faced in the wrong direction. Some people are born bad, some people are cultivated as such, and Odin, at his root, is a demon in disguise even despite his most valiant efforts; it’s a nature he fights everyday and, oh, the battle grows bloodier and bloodier.

The rest may look familiar to you:

I’ve always been a sucker for a good heart and bruised knuckles.

Such beauty and chaos, such destruction and uncertainty, an aching heart that slips through your fingers as you struggle to grasp it, begging it to hold still. He shakes and struggles with nature and nurture, who he should be and who he wants to be, and more importantly, what he’s become. He feels the remorse and pain of it everyday when he wakes and each night he goes to sleep – for a time he managed to be the person he worked so hard to be. It crumbled under his feet and his developing insanity, the rumble of his father’s ways breaking the ground under his skin and causing something of a snap, a moment of true obscurity. He hates himself for it, but he cannot yet again break his mold, he cannot become someone else. His will is cracking, his heart breaking.

Give me his nuance, give me his pain, give me his turmoil, and oh, please, give me his struggle; the desperate gasp of collapsed lungs and a tattered chest. I cannot stress how beautiful I find him, the feeling in my ribcage so solemn at his childhood and forthcoming, his painful attributes and breaking spirit. A man who shows his kindness through terror and bloodshed, so intent on being a good person that he’d tear the throat of a thief with his teeth.

Yes, I’ve found love.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.

(I have new ideas but lord, do I struggle with formulating plot ideas in this format so I’m just gunna keep the same ones because of such and because I DO in fact still want to play them out.)

MEN SHOULD BE WHAT THEY SEEM //

Oh, can the flash of his teeth brighten a room. His smile is bright but, these days, so rarely genuine. He no longer knows who he is truly fighting for, what side of the coin he lays on with his copper spinning on its side in a never ending spiral. He does not know where he belongs, nor, who he truly is and it plagues him in a way that’s all too familiar, a way that feels like his mother’s comfort and his father’s recklessness, the smell of alcohol on someone’s tongue when they speak and the feeling of a caress on skin. He needs to make a choice, a permanent decision for once in his life, pick his path and follow it to the end instead of cutting through the woods once more. Who are you, Odin? His own face in the mirror becoming more unfamiliar in each passing day, a building anxiety and insanity, a hurricane creating a disaster inside him. Who are you?

His reflection tired, tainting his handsome face and false expressions, a hunger growing just under the surface, a desperation so hot; who will you be?

FOR SHE HAD EYES AND CHOSE ME //

Delilah, oh, how she filled something inside of him, and oh, how he tore into the filled space as if rabid, as if being whole was too much to bear, the filled space too heavy, and the paranoia of losing it all creasing his forehead and melting in his palms.

So he did what he does best, and he ripped through the plaster and insulation like a hammer, shattered the glass and caused the empty space to bleed. It hasn’t stopped aching, despite his insistence that it has healed, sometimes he still wakes with his shirt soaked in blood, drenched in suffering. How can he learn to forgive? He learned his lessons but the morals cannot seem to stick, the weakness he caused in his own self and the horror he caused for the woman he loved – loves, still finding its way through his mind and heart. He seeks self forgiveness just as much if not more than he seeks hers. He cannot move on without finding solace or closure but those are two things so hard to capture and accept. Sometimes, he feels so much like his father with his past misgivings it stirs disgust.

It’s time to repent.

THE GREEN EYED MONSTER //

Ivan is a scab, an infection that Odin refuses to treat. He’s become cautious, wearily aware of betrayal in the past and more on the horizon. He has a feeling, a ponderance that keeps him up at night, the sends shocks through his veins. He hates to think of his friend, his family, as a traitor, as a monster in disguise seeking to antagonize the worst parts of Odin himself, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore. It scrapes the back of his mind, creates an itch that he cannot scratch no matter how deep he digs, no matter if the skin starts bleeding, it won’t go away. How does he cut out another piece of his life, another piece of himself so vital? It feels like he is losing those most important to him, that they’re all turning on him and it creates nothing but fear, more paranoia and uncertainty.

He wants so desperately to be wrong, but knows what will happen if he is not.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If anyone deserves to die at some point in this rp I feel like Odin’s a good contender to get fuckin’ GANKED

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Para Sample:

Act I

The sun beats down on darkened skin, wind blowing through open cruiser windows, sunglasses adorned on his face and a holder keeps track of coffees. In the daylight he glistens – not in a literal sense of glowing skin and eyes, he does not hover over the earth as if ethereal, not a streak against the sky that blinds any human eyes that dare linger, but instead in the sense that no one could ever find the man to be anything but happy. His teeth, those straight, white, teeth that come alive in a smile and clear rooms with a sneer peek from behind pulled lips in a grin. He walks with a swagger, bearing gifts in coffee for other officers and sharp humor and barked laughs for poor moods. He so easily falls into the facade of being created from nothing but light and the body of Christ, a saint in all regards except moral, light jests greeting all who perceive him and all who engage.

Well groomed, upkept and clean, there was no reason to suspect anything was amiss in the crook of his grins, the sharp of his wit, the movements of his muscles under skin. He even makes arrests like a holy man, like someone with something to lose to violence. His hands rest on the steering wheel, music plays from the stereo and he nods his head, every other line finding its way out of his lips even in no one’s presence but his own. He isn’t playing a character in the moment, enjoying the everydayness of the outside world, the warmth of the air touching his limbs and being sucked into his lungs. He feels joy, he embodies it, he hovers with it. His foot eases off the gas at the turn of a light and one hand finds itself resting outside the drivers window, head cocked to the side, heart beating steadily in his chest – firm and ever present in the strength of his pulse.

A human being in all forms; a person, a person, a person, and his phone rings.

Pulling in the parking lot he answers the call, the perspective outside leaves the voice on the other end muffled as it’s pressed to his ear, his face falling ever so slightly, car pushed into park. He nods even though the speaker cannot see him, he makes a sound of understanding as they continue and suddenly something is more solid inside of him. The fluidity, the liquid that flowed between sunlight and good music steels itself against the reality of his life, of who he is and what he is to do, the lake jostled and good-feelings distorted. It’s not for the faint of heart, not created for those with poor constitution, and he is a police officer until ten tonight; that’s what he says to the voice on the other end so they tell him to have it done by eleven. He does not hesitate until he hangs up, a sigh of the last good breath leaving his lungs. A moment of silence for what he lost.

He grabs the coffees and heads inside.

Act II

The headlights send streaks through the night, the yellow color sending shadows running rampant across the near empty field – long and sickly. The air is not still but choked, a vice grip stealing the oxygen away from those who dared attempt breathing. There stood a figure in the darkness, large shoulders over a larger frame, muscles tightened as he digs and digs, the shovel breaking the earth harshly with each bend of his arms. His breathing is rough, like a rubber band pulled to full capacity trying to bend and break to fit the expansion of his lungs. The shovel carries on.

The silence that hung heavy around the lone sound of crumbling dirt could kill in its own regard; ringing in his ears as he ignores the shower curtain wrapped in duct tape buried in the back corners of his trunk. Odin’s mind is empty to everything but the task, split skin and dried blood from his face and knuckles, the bruises adorning his ribcage. Perhaps it was self defense for the sake of defense, he threw the first punch but it was returned just as well and by then, truly, the control was lost. It was what they had wanted to happen, and he was nothing if not complicit. He supposed that was what they liked about him, another body, a bloodhound. Caving for the sake of therapy, sober by daylight and drenched in sweat and blood by nighttime –  if only to keep his sanity. He was nothing if not built of power and control in both physical and mental regards over everyone but himself.

Try to carve a better god out of wood, put him on a pedestal and pray all you’d like, the real sacrifice will come in blood much later – but this flesh and bone, that which has created the man who finds himself up to his chest in dirt standing at over six feet, he is paid now and up front. He is solid, and real.

He straightens up, dirt caked to his jeans and soiled t-shirt, sweat broken across his skin making him shine under the glare of the headlight, the sheen making him appear as if glowing under the half exposed moon. He plants his hands on the outside on the deepened earth and pulls himself out, breathing hard through his nose, a noise like a grunt, face twisted, teeth appearing behind pulled lips. He stares at the dip of the trunk, chest moving, knuckles tightening, shovel thrown to the side. He isn’t even halfway done yet; he gathers himself, and pulls the latch free.

Act III

(TW: self harm kind of)

The neighborhood is still and quiet, blackness behind every window and curtain at such an ungodly hour, the only sounds being the low rumble of the occasional car passing on the main road nearby. In the stillness there begins a movement, the shape of a tall man shaking open the gate leading to the back of a house, his clothes defiled and leaving trails. He strips in the backyard of the home; shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans forming a pile of mud and dirt by the sliding glass doors until he stands in his boxers, fingers unlocking the back door, the cold of the night wetting trails down his back and sides, whispering to his skin. He walks slowly to avoid making any noise, the sound of keys hitting the granite of a kitchen countertop. Even despite how delicately he walks, the mass of his body makes the stairs protest lowly when his feet find them.

The man first goes to the bathroom, the light flicked on as he tries to avoid his face in the mirror. He is not the same creature that caused the blood to pool in his wounds, not the same monster with dirt caked under his nails – not here, he can’t be; not in front of her. He turns on the shower, body directed towards a corner of the bathroom while he waits for the water to heat, staring blankly at the space where the two walls meet, hands twitching, brain fighting not to think, the sound of static until smoke fills the room. The adrenaline still pumps through his veins, the wild-eyed insanity created by anger and a lack of self control, the rush of the final blow still stinging in the shaking of his muscles. The water turns first brown from the dirt adorning his limbs, then becoming a far more sinister red when he submerges his face and hands, he washes himself slowly, rubbing at his back and shoulders, the sweat off of his skin, the searing pain of smoking water near boiling scalding the back of his neck. He doesn’t allow himself to think, not now, not yet. He doesn’t hum or sing, doesn’t talk to himself, but instead thinks only of his actions as they happen or nothing at all.

He doesn’t know how long he stands under the water, so hot it scalds, burns off the sin and the disgust, scrubbing and scrubbing until he could feel himself beginning to cause harm, wounding, convincing himself he’s becoming clean until he forces his hand, stopping the running water. He stands even longer still, his wet skin freezing over in the silence of the steamed room. Finally when he finds himself ready, he dries off until he feels pristine, the wash of the shower head like a baptism into the form of a different man, a new mold built into his model. Only then does he look in the mirror, eyes meeting the reflection of a handsome man, a cursed man, a martyr only in the sense of self respect and fear. His eyes are tired, his face adorning new cuts and scratches, bruises blooming his sides under skin and over muscle. He aches all over. He bares his teeth at the reflection and it does it right back, a snarl of bright white, the bones straight and sharp, and his eyes so quickly become frightening. He turns away.

Odin’s face peers around the door of a new room, hands finding covers and the soft sound of a woman waking. She turns to him, her face telling of sleep and her lips turned slightly down in a frown, her hands finding his chest, wrapping around his torso, her face in his neck, breath fanning over that damn skin of his and she says, “Long night?”

His fingers trail down the back of her shirt, fingertips pressing to the small of her exposed back stretched between her clothes and he hums quietly, face buried in her hair, body melting and moving to fit hers more comfortably, grip tight to squeeze her form, to hold onto something solid, to find his anchor. “Always, baby. Go back to sleep.” He says in a low voice, something comfortable, something familiar there, as if he’s smiling. She makes a noise of acceptance, curling even further towards him, as if a safety, sinking even further as his fingers trail up and down her back, soothing, as to not allow her to be distraught. Delilah was always the one he worried about, not concerning himself with the rotting inside his own chest, the ache of something breaking within him. He fights with the inability to sleep while the rush of the night still feeds inside of him. He does not concern himself with what little is left of him because while he is with her he is safe from the part of himself that only consumes, he is not concerned with the fragility of his own being, not while he breathes in the heat radiating off of l'amore della sua vita.

Meanwhile, miles and miles away, something begins to rot under the cover of freshly turned Earth.

Extras: I made a tag for him a long time ago and haven’t touched it much since tbh but like I'ma probably add stuff the next few days so this 4 u: https://hypnosreigns.tumblr.com/tagged/character:%20odin%20bello

[spideychelleforever]

When Spider-MJ Survived the Snap But Peter Didn’t: Epilogue

It had been five years since she and Tony had held Peter as he sobbed and cried and begged for help as he faded away. Five years since MJ had desperately, weakly pleaded with the universe, “no, please, no, not my baby, please not my baby,” as if it cared that she was in love with him and he was dying before her eyes. He wasn’t even hers, anyway, because she’d been so stupid and blind to the precious time they did have together, and how she’d taken it for granted.

It had been five years since MJ’s life was destroyed in the span of a minute as she watched those sweet, sweet eyes of Peter’s fade away as he seemed to watch himself die in despair.

Five years later, MJ knew she would never forget the day her life ended. That she would likely never completely move on from what had happened. She couldn’t erase five years of crying, aching, and heartbreak.

But what she could do now, however, was lean on her boyfriend Peter Parker for support as much as he needed to lean on her.

[[MORE]]

****

Peter and MJ returned to Midtown, and cried again as they desperately hugged Ned. Peter was the one who learned his other best friend was another victim, upon seeing he hadn’t aged a day since he last saw him. But finally, the trio was reunited again.

They had to repeat the school year over again, so that fucking blowed, but they reasoned if it meant more time together, they could take it.

Time.

Time was something so precious, so pure, so priceless. Even after all she’d gone through, MJ wondered if she really understood how much time meant. She figured she should by now, given she was one of the pioneers of time travel. But she was admittedly kind of afraid she didn’t properly understand how precious it was. Sometimes she worried she was taking it for granted.

She’d been given a second chance just as much as Peter, Ned, May, and the other victims had been given. Only Stephen had given her five years back so she could return to being Peter’s age - with a time-displaced Time Stone, meaning that this freebie could never, ever happen again.

Or could it? After all she’d seen, after befriending people like Rocket and Carol and time travel and the Snap, was anything really impossible? She had to keep that in mind, but nonetheless, the gravity of what Stephen had given her was never lost on her.

Besides, she thought. She was in a relationship with Peter Parker, the boy she thought was too good and pure to ever notice how weird and dark and lonely she was; the boy who died a horrible death but came back smiling like nothing had happened. The boy she’d pined after for five years, then grieved another five years. Thinking back, she knew that if Peter had stayed dead, she would’ve never dated or married anyone. As silly as it was, Peter was her person, and even if she died remembering Peter’s death 80 years before, she knew he was the only one for her.

Now he was holding her hand when they walked, buying her her favorite tea, giving her kisses and Goodnight texts. Now he was telling her how much he cared about her and wanted to make her happy.

Thinking all of that made her laugh, too. The universe had been torn asunder, she’d lost all her friends and family, the universe had been saved, and of course, MJ was thinking about how in love she was with Peter. Priorities, Jones.

Their relationship bloomed over the school year. May heartily approved, and so did her parents. Oh dear god, her reunion with her parents was something else. In her grief she’d forgotten a lot of people, and it was certainly weird to explain to them that no, she wasn’t also a victim of the Snap, and what Stephen had done. But they accepted it, saying that if that meant they got five years back with their baby, they were nothing but happy.

A class trip to Europe took place the following summer, and MJ helped Peter defeat disgruntled former Stark employee #35729, Quentin Beck. On a bridge in London, she showed Peter the broken black dahlia necklace, and when she said she preferred it broken, Peter finally told her what he had planned to tell her atop the Eiffel Tower.

“I’m in love with you, Michelle,” he said with a starstruck, awed smile.

MJ’s face nearly broke from smiling so hard. “I’m in love with you, too, Peter.” And they shared a series of progressively better kisses to seal it off.

****

Years passed.

Graduation happened. College acceptance letters happened. College happened. Failing classes happened. MJ’s thighs getting thick and fat happened. The Dean’s list happened. Peter briefly growing facial hair then shaving it off happened. Their first time happened. More threats happened, city level and Avengers level. Graduation from college happened. Masters degree, then a PHD happened. Dr. Michelle Jones happened.

Ten years after Peter had returned from beyond the veil, he had suggested they take a walk through a park that was conveniently close to the middle school they’d met at. Where MJ first laid eyes on the little nerd with mousy hair and a high, squeaky voice, and though she didn’t know it at the time, her heart had gone that day, never to be reclaimed again.

The sun was setting, and they walked from the park to outskirts of the school grounds, and eventually took a seat on a bench, enjoying the comfortable silence as they felt a cool breeze make its way past them to the rolling hills of the park.

“MJ? Are you happy?” Peter suddenly asked.

MJ laughed. “Quite the conversation starter.”

“But yes. Yes, I am.” MJ squeezed his hand in hers. “With you.”

That seemed to pump something into Peter. He let go of her hand and stood up over her. “Then MJ, I want to say this before anything else.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you. However I need to put it, MJ, I’m yours. You are the most important person in my life and I could not live without you. You’re the most incredible, breathtaking, wonderful person there is and I wish I had noticed you sooner so we could have had even more time together. But that’s alright, because I want to spend all my time with you. I want to build my life with you. So MJ-“

“Let me stop you right there,” MJ said suddenly, before Peter could move again. Now she had gotten up, and Peter nearly fainted as he watched his girlfriend take his hands and get down on one knee in front of him.

“MJ, what are you doing-“ Peter gasped desperately.

“You died fifteen years ago,” MJ started, a lump in her throat, “and like I’ve told you, I spent every day for the next five years a shell of a person because I was already in fucking love with you, and I wanted to see you again. Even if you never noticed me, I wanted you alive again because you are the kind of person, Peter, who makes everyone’s lives better because you’re in them. There is no way to scientifically measure just how good you are. That’s why I fell in love with you the day we met at this school. That’s why I knew those five years that I would never find anyone else. Because you’re the one for me, Peter Benjamin Parker, and I never want to let you go, either.” MJ sucked in a sharp breath because now, she couldn’t help it, a few tears were steaming down her face.

“But I’ve known for a while you were planning this so.. so get on your knee and pull it out, Peter.”

Peter looked at her in confusion, interrupting his pure smile, but he realized what she was saying, and did as she suggested. He got down on one knee right in front of MJ, and pulled the ring from his pocket.

Before he could say it, MJ beat him. “Let’s ask at the same time?”

“Okay,” Peter nodded, in awe of what was happening.

“Peter, will you marry me?” “Michelle, will you marry me?”

Both were crying by now.

“Yes.” “Yes.”

And they kissed slowly, deliberately, trying to get all of their emotions into it, knowing that this was one of the most important moments of their lives and still being in awe of it.

And as MJ grinned through her tears, Peter put the ring on her finger. “You know,” Peter said, “Dr. Jones-Parker is such a badass name and you’re gonna rock it.”

MJ laughed. “You never know, I might just take Dr. Parker. I like that name. A certain loser has it as his last name and I like that loser a lot, so..”

Peter grinned. “I can’t believe I’m your fiancé.”

MJ sniffled. “I’m very observant, so I saw it coming a while ago. But this is-this is perfect.”

“It is,” Peter agreed. And they stayed there facing each other on one knee each until their legs hurt.

****

Despite the utter exhaustion she was feeling, MJ couldn’t stop crying, feeling the extra heat of the tiny body bundled in white that she was holding to her. Peter was sitting right next to her in a chair, his face nuzzled against her and their daughter.

It had been seventeen years since Peter had died in MJ’s arms. Despite all the happiness that had taken place in their lives in the intervening years, seventeen years later, as they both held their baby girl, both of them felt like their lives had started anew again.

And they were ready to enjoy it together.

****

This has been a mammoth undertaking that I never knew I had in me. I want to thank my crush @you-guys--are-losers and my dear @spiderman-homecomeme , you two lovelies always inspire me so. I want to thank dearest @theslytherinterran for their constant, unyielding feedback and support. I want to thank @parallelmarvel , one of the Tumblr loves of my life. To @peterjonesparker , who started it all with her amazing series that got me into this fandom in the first place. To @sodafizzyart for always taking my illustration requests and KILLING it each time.

And to the rest of my regular tag-list, all of you being sweet, sweet dears who make me feel special and loved. @spideychelle @spideyxchelle @spideychelle-romanogers @lovely-iris-west-allen @wandrlust-stark @acastleintheair @miranduh1 @seek-rest @tare8chan and allllll the rest.

Thank you all. Spideychelle Forever.

[singledarkshade]

Settling In

Chapter Thirty – One Year Author’s Note: This is the final chapter of this story. Hope you enjoyed.                                 ********************************************* “So,” Sara said as she, Rip, Ray and Mick looked at the large building the signal they’d picked up earlier that morning was coming from, “Where are we?”

“It’s the testing centre,” Rip said before explaining at the confused looks, “This is where they brought the children recruited so it could be determined whether they should be trained as Time Masters or something else.” He grimaced, “Medical checks were also done here.”

“Rip…” Sara said softly as he looked around.

“I spent about three months here when I was first picked up,” he mused, seeing they were all looking at him confused Rip explained, “Scarring on my lungs from pneumonia plus I was practically starving to death.”

At his dismissive reply the three of them looked at one another worriedly.

“Okay,” Rip broke out of his reverie, “We should split up and see if we can find the location of the SOS signal.”

Sara nodded in agreement.

“You and Mr Rory take the north wing,” Rip said to Sara, before noting to Mick, “You know what to look for. Ray and I will take the south.”

He started walking but before Ray could follow, Mick grabbed his arm.

“Keep an eye on the Englishman, Haircut,” Mick told him, “This place will not be good for him.”

Ray nodded and headed after Rip.

 “This is strange,” Rip mused as they moved through the corridors, “I don’t know where this signal could be coming from or who could possibly be sending it.”

Ray nodded, “Maybe Sara and Mick will be having better luck than we are.”

Rip stopped and tilted his head in thought, “Hold on. We’re in the south wing…I wonder…”

“What?” Ray demanded when Rip trailed off and just stood silently for several minutes.

Finally Rip turned to him, “That signal was sent directly to us, to me. Bringing me to somewhere I haven’t been since I was a child.”

“And?”

Rip took a breath, “My room, the one I was in for the three months I was here, is at the end of this corridor. I wonder…”

Ray shook his head annoyed as Rip trailed off again before walking deliberately along the corridor. Rip pulled his gun before opening the door. Green light spilled out and Ray watched Rip step inside. He ran in when he heard Rip’s gun thud on the floor and a cry of shock emanate from the other man.

“Rip?” he cried finding the former Time Master gasping for air, his back against the wall staring at the bed where, held in a stasis field, lay a little boy. Ray stared at the child asking, “Who is he?”

Rip looked up at Ray, his face ashen with tears filling his eyes, managing to whisper, “Jonas.”

  Sara and Mick charged through the corridors. Ray had called them simply saying they needed to get there now. Reaching the room, they skidded to a halt finding Ray holding onto Rip who appeared to be having a panic attack.

“Rip?” Sara asked gently.

Ray shook his head and motioned her to look at the bed. Confused she stepped closer with Mick and stared at the child on the bed.

“Jonas,” Mick said, his voice soft.

Sara swallowed and let out a short breath before moving over to Rip resting her hand on his cheek making him look at her, “Hey, we’re going take him back to the ship and get him checked out. Okay?” Not waiting for him to reply Sara turned back, “Gideon, please connect to the test centre.”

“I already have, Captain Lance,” Gideon replied, “I have downloaded the information and will remove the stasis field as soon as you are ready.”

Sara turned to check on Rip once more, relieved that he seemed to be calming slightly, “Mick is going to take him back to the ship. Okay?”

“I won’t let anything happen to him,” Mick promised.

Ray nodded letting them know that he’d take care of Rip as long as they took care of Rip’s son.

“Okay, Gideon,” Sara said, “Drop the stasis field.”

The green light disappeared, and Mick slid his arms beneath the unconscious child lifting him gently, holding him securely against his chest before he started back to the ship.

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

  Rip opened his eyes and grabbed his tablet sitting on the bedside cabinet, “Gideon, show me Jonas.”

Instantly the screen lit up and the live feed of his son fast asleep, cuddled up with his teddy bear completely peaceful under his covers a slight smile on his sweet face appeared before him.

“He’s safe,” Gideon assured him, “And dreaming happily.”

Letting out a sigh, Rip placed the tablet down before dropping his head onto the pillow in relief.

“What were you dreaming about?” Gideon asked.

Rip curled around his pillow, “The day we found him, this time last year.”

“A wonderful day, Captain,” Gideon said, a smile in her voice, “And it has been a good year. You have been a good father to our wonderful little boy. And he’s happy.”

“I know,” he breathed, closing his eyes “But I remember the days without him.”

“Days that are long gone,” she reminded him.

With her comfort, and the knowledge Jonas was safe in the next room, Rip let himself drift off to sleep once more.

  Jonas, completely ignorant of the significance of the day, bounced downstairs to watch his morning cartoons. Rip smiled to see his son, happy and waiting for his breakfast.

“Okay,” Rip placed the bowl of cereal in front of Jonas, “Since I offered to help Adam’s mum and dad get things ready for the party, it means we’re going to go early.”

Jonas grinned.

“So, you get to play with Adam before his party,” Rip continued, “But you also have to make sure you don’t get in the way.”

“I promise I’ll be good, Daddy,” Jonas said solemnly.

With a smile Rip leaned over and kissed the top of his son’s head, “I know you will be.”

They finished breakfast with Jonas and Gideon playing one of the matching games she liked to do with him. They were memory games similar to ones Miranda would play every morning, to keep Jonas’ mind stimulated. Rip knew it allowed Gideon her own time to bond with his son.

Rip tidied up watching Jonas constantly. For some reason the fact that exactly one year before he had found his son again was on his mind and Rip couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. Finding Jonas on the bed in stasis, getting back the most precious part of his life had saved Rip and he knew it. Without Jonas, Rip was well-aware he would still be running about the timeline putting himself in situations that would one day have got him killed.

  Evelyn and Kevin had hired the same soft play centre for Adam’s birthday party that Rip had for Jonas’ birthday. The moment they walked in Adam ran over to them, and Rip let his son take off with his best friend.

“Hi,” Evelyn appeared, “Thank you for coming to help.”

Rip smiled, “Happy to. It also means I don’t have to listen to Jonas ask me continuously when we were coming to the party.”

She chuckled, “Well, I am grateful you’re here. Kevin took Ruth for a drive to get her to go to sleep.”

“And to avoid the hard work?” Rip asked amused,

“Exactly.”

Laughing Rip followed her to the table where all the decorations sat. He watched Jonas run around with Adam as he helped Evelyn blow up balloons and sort party bags.

“Are you okay?” Evelyn asked suddenly.

“Fine,” Rip said quickly turning to look at her, “Why do you ask?”

She frowned slightly, “Because the way you’re watching Jonas. Like you’re afraid he won’t be there the next time you look up.”

Rip sighed softly, “I can’t stop thinking that I lost him.”

“Captain,” Gideon said warningly in his ear, making him realise what he’d said.

“I was working when…” Rip trailed off and took a breath trying to remember for a moment the story they’d given for losing Miranda, “When I got the call about the accident. I thought I’d lost them both. This time last year I found I was wrong.”

Evelyn squeezed his arm, “He’s safe but I understand why you’re a little anxious today.”

“Thank you, Evelyn,” Rip said sincerely, “I can’t tell you how much your friendship has meant to me this past year.”

“Well, you and Jonas are family now,” Evelyn replied, she looked over as the door opened and the party guests arrived, “And the hordes have arrived.”

  Rip sat hidden in the corner with Ruth asleep in his arms while the kids ran around, and the adults chatted. Knowing his aversion to ‘chatting’ with the parents of Jonas’ classmates Evelyn simply handed him Ruth and let him hide in the corner where he could watch over his son.

Jonas and Adam were charging around, laughing and shouting while leading several others in a game.

“You’re troubled, Captain,” Gideon said softly in his ear.

“No,” he breathed, “Just reflecting.”

“About?”

Rip sighed, gently rocking the little girl as she began to fuss in his arms, “Just life in general.”

“Remaining in one place for an entire year is something you have not done in a long time,” Gideon deduced, “Not since your final year in the Academy.”

“Even with Miranda I could only stay for a few days at a time,” Rip murmured sadly, “I never thought I would ever put down roots, other than on the Waverider.”

He sat in silence for several moments watching Jonas.

“Do you miss it, Captain?” Gideon asked, breaking the silence.

“I do,” he said instantly, “My ship, our ship. That was my home and refuge for all those years. The only consolation I have is that you’re still with me.”

Rip could feel her smile at her words, “Always, my dearest Captain.”

  Jonas was fast asleep on the bed beside Adam, who was also out for the count, when Rip stepped into the room. Toy Story, the boys’ favourite film, was playing to itself. After the party Evelyn and Kevin invited them over for dinner, allowing the boys could continue to play. Rip was more than happy to, as he enjoyed their company and was always happy to have Jonas spend time with his best friend.

“Both asleep?” Kevin chuckled as he looked down at their sons, “Well, they spent most of the day bouncing about. I’m surprised they lasted so long.”

Rip smiled, before he lifted Jonas up into his arms. Jonas cuddled into Rip’s shoulder arms and legs automatically wrapping around his daddy. Kevin fixed his son under the covers, who sighed as he cuddled his bear.

Carrying Jonas down to the car Rip turned to his friends, “Tomorrow will be a year since Jonas and I moved here. The others are insisting on throwing a party to celebrate. I know it’s short notice but would you all like to join us.”

“Are you sure?” Evelyn asked, “If it’s a family get together.”

“Family and friends,” Rip said softly, “I’d like you to join us. And Jonas will love having Adam there to play with.”

Evelyn glanced at her husband before nodding, “We’ll be there. What time?”

“After three,” Rip smiled relieved they’d agreed to come, he still found it hard to reach out to people.

Evelyn nodded, “We’ll be there.

“See you tomorrow,” Rip nodded before he carried his unconscious son to the car and heading home.

Carrying Jonas upstairs, Rip quickly changed his son into his pyjamas and eased the pliant little boy under the covers. Kissing Jonas forehead, Rip left him to sleep.

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

  Rip stood in the kitchen looking out across the garden which was filled with friends and family. Barry, Cisco, Caitlin, Iris, Wally, Jessie, Harry, Lisa, Joe and Cecile, Tina McGee, Evelyn, Kevin, Adam and Ruth, Clarissa and Lily were there as well as Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, Lyla along with Captain Singh and his husband had accepted the invitation to join the party.

“Your family, Captain,” Gideon said softly in his ear, “You should be out there enjoying the celebration with them.”

Rip smiled, “I’m just fixing drinks, Gideon. And I am enjoying my day. It’s gratifying that so many people joined us.”

“Of course they came, Captain,” Gideon told him, amusement in her voice, “Despite yourself sometimes, you have made good friends here.”

Rolling his eyes at her reply, Rip picked up the cups of juice for Adam and Jonas returning to the garden. Once he’d given the boys their drink, he took a seat beside Clarissa and rejoined the conversation.

“Okay, can I have your attention,” Joe spoke up suddenly, standing with his glass in his hand managing to get everyone’s attention, “A year ago today, Rip and Jonas arrived in Central City becoming a part of our already odd extended family.”

Rip lifted Jonas onto his lap hugging him close.

“Although shy and timid around us at first,” Joe continued, “Rip soon came to trust us.”

Laughter filled the garden and Rip tried to frown but couldn’t stop his smile at the good-natured teasing.

“With Rip came Jonas who has become a beloved cousin, nephew and grandson to us all,” Joe said once the laughter died down, “And has brought new friends into our group. I remember standing here several months ago and welcoming you both to our family. Now, I get to stand here when you have become an integral part of this family. As well as tell you how grateful we are to have you with us.”

“Seconded,” Cisco called, hugging Lisa close who smiled up at him.

Hugging Jonas, Rip looked at garden filled with people.

“And I…we are grateful that you took us in,” Rip paused before continuing with a smile, “An extended family was something neither Jonas nor I ever had until we came here,” Rip raised his glass to them all, “To our family.”

As everyone toasted, Rip kissed his son’s head hugging him for a moment before he let the little boy down to run around with his best friend again.

  Looking at the people filling his garden, Rip thought back to the year before when he’d made the decision to stay in this time and place. He remembered deciding logically that staying near the Star Labs team would be a good idea, considering his own unique circumstances if anything happened that would require medical assistance then he would have people who could help him.

It had been a pleasant surprise when Cisco offered his spare room to them, and then how they were adopted by the team. Rip could never have imagined that these people, strangers only twelve months before, becoming his family.

“Hey,” Cisco’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “Are you with us?”

Rip smiled and turned back to the party, “I’m with you.”

                                  ********************************************* Author’s Final Note: I will continue this universe in Family Moments.

[fizzyxcustard]

Dead End

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and contemplation, bullying, fluff

Comments/Notes: This imagine was originally posted on my old account and on my Instagram account. I then wrote a short piece, but was quite nervous about posting it because of the themes. If you would like to be added to any of the tag lists, or even removed, message me or send an ask. 

Follow Forever tag list: @shikin83 @deepestfirefun @houseofrahl @nowiloveandwilllove @mynameisnoneya1991 @blankdblank @captainrainbowpanda @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass @patanghill17 @trees-and-ink @inumorph @leah-halliwell92 @greendragonette @msjava1972 @thequeenoferebor @bespectacled-bunny @ghostlyandee @raindancer2004 @dottiechan @captain-almighty

Hobbit tag list: @fentah @hails270105

Dead End tag list: @inhabitant-of-the-void @sunnysidesidra

Since you had come to Erebor and been formally welcomed by Thorin, you had never felt a part of the people who occupied the mountain. Whispers echoed around the halls as you walked past, going about your daily duties which you had signed up for. Women whispered and nudged each other, their eyes following you around rooms. One woman in particular, the head chef, named Neldra, had made it clear to you that you didn’t belong in Erebor.

Every day and you held the tears at bay, constantly reminded that you would never belong anywhere. Even in your home world, the place you had been so quickly and violently pulled away from, and others your own age scoffed you. You were unmarried, had no children and enjoyed the solace in travelling to foreign shores. Was there anywhere in this universe that you actually fit?

It seemed as though no one cared enough about you to stop you leaving. The pain was becoming tighter in your chest and to the point that you wanted to be free of it.

Each evening and you dashed into the kitchen, grabbed your food and disappeared to your room. The anxiety was balled in your chest and stomach and you shook the closer you got to the kitchen door, knowing that Neldra was behind it. She hated you, despised you, and would no doubt spit on you if she had half the chance.

***

Thorin paced his main study, his mind in knots. Not even Dwalin and Balin, his closest friends and advisors could settle this uprising.

On Thorin’s desk was a piece of parchment, the ink only just dried. It was asking you to accompany him for dinner that evening. He had a question to ask you. A very important question. The answer he both dreaded and anticipated. If your answer was no, could he face that soul crushing rejection?

To steady himself, Thorin sat down at his desk. Even out on the battlefield, facing possible death, and he had never felt this vulnerable. And he knew that this decision could cause many rifts within the community of the Dwarves of Erebor, who were already suspicious enough as outsiders. But to entertain the idea of one of them being Erebor’s new Queen? Disgusting. Such an inconceivable thought.

Thorin’s letter was shortly afterward sent to your bed chamber, via one of the hall guards. However, waiting proved painful for the King.

He sat in the main dinner hall, anticipating your prescence. You never arrived.

Thorin asked after you. However, he asked one of his trusted guards, not always believing the spiteful comments of the kitchen women.

“I have not seen her all day, my King,”the guard replied. “She is normally early for duty, but she did not report today. I thought Neldra had informed you. Maybe she is ill.”

“No, she did not inform me of it,”Thorin growled.

“Is something wrong?” Neldra asked, stepping out of the kitchen and into the hall, holding a tray of piping hot, fresh food to replace that which had not yet been eaten.

Thorin narrowed his eyes at Neldra. “I shall see to you later,” Thorin spat.

The King went to your bed chamber first, knocking. When you didn’t answer, he opened the door. Thorin stepped inside, seeing your bed tidy and all the pillows neatly stacked in place. Something was wrong with this. When Thorin had been to your bed chamber previously, making sure you had settled in, he noticed that your bed was always unmade and your table was full of books from the library. However, your room looked now as if no one occupied it. The only piece of evidence that you had ever resided there was your folded night dress on the end of your bed.

Thorin picked up your white nightdress and held it to his nose, inhaling your scent. It stirred so many emotions; love, joy, sadness and fear. Had you left him? Of course you hadn’t left him. Thorin was nothing to you. He was a King of Dwarves, not of you. You had your own ruler in your home world. Thorin had merely been the leader of a group of Dwarves whom had found you on the road, and they had protected you along the way. The bottom line was Thorin was nothing to you, despite him always hoping that you held him in your heart somewhere, even if just in friendship.

***

There were no tears, just a broken heart. It had been shattered by missing your home world, feeling isolated and being bullied by those that should have accepted you. Your breaths became pants as you looked over the stone balcony, seeing staircases beneath you. It would be quick, hopefully no pain. From such a height you had no chance of survival once you had hit the bottom.

When had your world changed to become this? A black hole of nothing but pain. Nothing was keeping you holding on to life anymore. You were merely existing and not thriving as you should have been. Everything was taunts, off-handed comments, feeling out of place, sadness, memory…

More than that and you were holding an incredibly fragile secret at the centre of your heart, and the weight of it, was keeping you awake at night. Every day and it meant you were plodding through life, nothing making sense anymore, not even your secret. You dared tell no one, not even Fili, who had become your best friend. Not even Fili could advocate such a thing as you loving his uncle.

Slowly and carefully you got up on the balcony, climbing up the cold stone. Your heart was hammering, counting at a faster pace than the tools which you could hear in the distance, assisting in the re-building of the kingdom. For a second you looked around, imagining the wind blowing through your hair. You missed the breeze of nature around you as you had become closed in under the mountain. It was beautiful. Your heart may have always been with nature, clinging to the sight, sound and smell of trees, flowers, streams, but you couldn’t deny that Erebor was magnificent in a whole different way. Nature showed the talent of Middle-earth’s gods; the colours like the palette of a painter. This kingdom showcased the talent of a race of people, mortal. They were not divine. For a split second, you felt awe.

Then the last few months of your life played. You had woken up in this foreign world, terrified and alone, taken in by a group of travelling Dwarves. They, at least, had made you feel welcome for that short stint of time. At the centre of it all, hiding beneath the surface, you knew that you were different, and always would be. Their customs were not yours.

Your whole body felt weak and a holt bolt of fright shot through you. You wept, clinging to a stone pillar, your feet only an inch from the edge.

“What are you doing?” a voice came, stung by shock and terror. “Come down from there.”

Thorin watched the shudder of your shoulders as you cried, your arms wrapped around your head. “No,” you sobbed. “No one wants me here.”

“Who has made you think such a thing?” Thorin hissed in frustration, not quite sure how to handle this situation “I came looking for you, wanting you to join me for dinner tonight.”

You raised your head from your arms, catching sight of him out of the corner of your eye. He was mesmerising, beautiful, strong; a man who constantly haunted your thoughts as you clung to an impossible dream. In the dream you were his wife, his lover, his Queen, mother of his children. Your love was fierce, unbreakable. How stupid to dream.

“Dinner?” you whispered, your gaze turning towards him. Your eyes focused through the tears and you saw the fright in his face. Was it the fright of potentially losing you? Did the mere thought of being without you scare him? Fear was an emotion you believed that Thorin never felt, but in those seconds, you could recognise it. His eyes were wide, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips just slightly apart. Words were failing him. “Why would you ask me to dinner?”

Frustration hit Thorin as he listened to your words. Why on earth would he ask you to dinner? “Are my intentions and wishes not obvious enough?” He shifted forwards slowly, and with a trembling hand, reached up. “Come down from there, my dearest.”

Breath hitched sharp in your throat. There was nothing but sheer sincerity in the King’s eyes. Never had you known a lie to pass his lips. Honesty was an integral part of Thorin, and your trust in him had never faulted. Even in the midst of Dragon Sickness, you had understood that the real Thorin was buried, pulled down and weighed heavily on by a mental state that was not his own.

Tears began to fill Thorin’s blue eyes. The silver drops fell down his cheeks. “You cannot leave me,” Thorin said, his voice quiet and stricken with grief at the thought.

Your hands touched and all you could focus on was Thorin. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore as his fingers laced in yours. The warmth radiated through your hand and on instinct, you began to descend from the balcony.

As your feet hit the stone floor, Thorin pulled you towards him, holding you tight. His shoulders racked whilst he sobbed against you. “Why? Why ever would you consider ending your life?”

To hear his pain broke you and you wept also, gripping him tight.

“No one wants me here, Thorin,” you told him, pulling away from your embrace and rubbing your red and swollen eyes.

“I DO!” Thorin boomed. “I want you to take the place beside me; to rule, to wed, bear our children. That was why I wanted to ask for you to join me tonight for dinner. I wished to…” His voice trailed off. “This should not be about my wishes. You are my concern and I want you to be happy, content and feel loved by all of us.”

The ache of loving Thorin grew tenfold and you gasped, stepping backwards. You backed into the balcony, jumping as you felt nudge into your lower back.

Thorin dashed forward on instinct, terrified of you having the urge once more to throw yourself from the balcony. His hands caught your hips and you looked up at him. “People have made me feel like I don’t belong here, and it’s because I’m different. I’m not a Dwarf. It doesn’t matter how I behave, how I dress…I will never be one of you.”

“What are you saying?” Thorin asked, his voice on the edge of breaking. “You do not wish to stay here?”

“If it were completely up to me and there would be no consequences, I’d stay with you always. I���d be your wife, and live to love, serve and honour you until the day I die. But it’s not up to me. Your people don’t want someone who isn’t Dwarf ruling as Queen. They need someone like Neldra…”

Thorin growled as he heard her name. “She is behind a lot of your bad feelings. I am not blind to the behaviours that have been going on around me, but I had no idea that her words had cut you as deep as this, my love. And for that, I should have intervened sooner. After the events of this evening, she will no longer have a place within the kitchens, and will never speak to you in such a manner again. Should she dare, she will be cast out.”

“She always made me feel different and as though I don’t belong here,” you began, ruminating on the abrupt Dwarf woman’s words. Those words had caused you intense fear and pain, and so often that many mornings you vomited before going for your duties. The thought of her made you begin to shake and Thorin noticed.

Thorin’s hands were still cupping your hips and slowly he pulled you closer. “You belong with me,” he whispered, your body touching his. He tilted his head whilst his eyes studied you.

A tear of joy fell down your cheek, hearing Thorin’s words. All the sorrow was temporarily pushed aside for those seconds whilst you shared your first kiss with the King. As your lips met, you felt his tongue begin searching for yours. Your heart was racing, pleasurable shivers shot through you and without evening realising it, you groaned. The dream was coming true.

“You belong with me,” Thorin whispered again as he drew away and your gazes met. “Believe in that.”

Rationality seeped in once more and you pulled away from Thorin reluctantly, sighing and hanging your head. “I don’t. I’ll never belong here because I’m not one of you. Your people honour their race, and I can’t be the one to blow that apart. I should leave here and…”

“Go where? Do what?” Thorin snapped. His blue eyes were wide in anger and frustration. “I have done nothing but treat you well, give you your comfort…” His words trailed off, and he looked down at the stone floor, closing his eyes.

“That is you. That is the rest of the Company, not the kingdom. The people who have come here from the Blue Mountains and Iron Hills won’t allow me to be Queen.”

“That is not their decision!” Thorin hissed again. This time he looked at you and you saw tears welling in his eyes. Rejection, fear, anger.

You sighed again and approached Thorin slowly, reaching out and brushing his arm. “You have to let me go because it’s the best thing for your people. You’re a King, Thorin, and you need to do what’s right by them.”

“And that means forfeiting my own future and happiness?” Thorin’s voice was on the verge of breaking, but he held onto his strength and composure just a while longer. “You came to us in fear, with nowhere to go, in a foreign place, and we made you a part of our group. We trusted you, have loved you, protected you. Who is to say that when you leave here, you will find others who will also accept you? I do not know how to see you back to your own world, but I want to make this home for you. Even if you do not accept my proposal and we do not wed, my love, you will always have a home here. I cannot see you leave and go into the wild alone. I cannot protect you out there.”

Suddenly you heard voices echoing in the corridor leading off behind you to your left. Thorin looked around suspiciously, and then gently took your hand in his, guiding you away with no more words spoken.

Both of you walked in silence, hand in hand, descending two sets of stairwells and walking down a long corridor to the largest bed chamber of all: Thorin’s. He opened the wooden door and released your hand, brushing your back and allowing you to walk inside first. “I shall have food sent to us. Give me a moment,” he told you, and disappeared back down the corridor, in search of a guard.

You walked into Thorin’s bed chamber and looked around it, seeing the enormous bed with its head against the back wall. It was covered in furs and pillows. Behind the headboard were tapestries and mounted swords and axes. On the right hand side of the room was a large desk, full of pieces of parchment, quills, inks and a single, empty glass. Candles were burning in various places around the room, causing shadows to dance on the stone walls. Beneath your feet was an intricately woven rug. Then you looked to your left, seeing a large leather seat and a small table on which a stack of books stood.

The man you so dearly loved was opening his heart to you, offering everything he had, but were you prepared to accept that love?

(To Be Continued....? You decide)

[beerecordings]

7 whump with Marvin if you please :)

Kenzie!! Je t’aime!! Thanks for requesting! Sorry this one got a little out of hand length-wise and also it turned out… pretty dark. Hope you enjoy it anyway :)

7. “Friends? You think they’d be proud to see what you’ve become?”

Hedid it. He did it. He did it.

Heset him free. He set Jack free. The poison is gone from him. Thecorruption is gone from him. Anti is gone from him.

Hishands are still up in front of him, shaking from the exertion of thepower he used to drive the demon out. Jameson is holding him, theirheads close together and their hands clenched, though Marvin has lostmost of the feeling throughout his body. All that remains is heat,and sweat on his face, and the painfully violent beating of hisheart.

Anda darkness in his vision. A darkness in his chest. A darkness in hispower.

“Whatis this?” he whispers, his eyes sliding shut. Pain grits his teethand he groans.

Aroundhim, he hears his family gasping and reassuring and rejoicing. Theysurround him like stars the moon, and there, in the center of it all,is Jack himself.

Heopens his eyes and they are no longer black.

“Reallygone?” Marvin hears Henrik ask, in a whisper.

“R-really– ” Jack coughs and swallows and tries again, his face white andhis throat red. “Really gone. I – you did it.”

“Marv,”says Chase, his voice flooded with admiration.

“ThankGod,” laughs Jackie, happier than he’s been in a long, long time.

AndJameson is pressed warmly against his head, stiff with relief,breathing slow and steady.

They’reproud of him. He hears it as music. Feels it as cold holy water onhis fingers. But he feels also the darkness.

“Whatis this?” Marvin repeats, struggling to swallow. “What is this?”

Thispain? This shadow? This strangeness, like when you wake up in themiddle of the night and know, without knowing how you know, thatthere is someone standing, still and silent, at the foot of your bed,and all you can do is lie there, breathing as quiet as you can,praying, praying, praying that it isn’t real?

Poorkitty cat, says Anti, sweetly,from inside his head, alive in the lower portion of his left frontallobe, and fear makes Marvin’s blood burn in waves across his heart.You really thought you could get rid of me.

Inthe initial storm of cold panic and a desperate need to regain somecontrol, Marvin decides to isolate himself completely.

Hedoesn’t know how he’s going to save himself, but he’ll be damned ifhe takes anyone else down with him. He runs.

Cutsoff contact with his brothers and leaves his cats at home, evenHabakkuk. Calls up a friend who’s out of town and asks to stay at herplace, and then stops talking to any of his other acquaintances –friends from football, friends from the bookstore, the handsomeviolinist he’d been flirting with for weeks. He even stops takingcalls from his human, watching with dull eyes as Jack’s name appearsand reappears, appears and reappears, appears and reappears on thescreen of his phone, followed every time by an increasingly concernedvoicemail.

“Marvin!Man, where did you go? You can’t just disappear like this. Did youuse too much power? Are you hurt? Or sick? I need you to come back.I’m – Marv, I’m scared.”

Noneof it matters. None of it matters until he can get rid of Anti. He’sno longer safe for his family. For his friends. For his Jack.

He’dthought it was scary to see Jack slowly collapse beneath the weightof Anti’s possession. But this – having him in his head – fuck,he didn’t know what fear was. He didn’t have the first idea.

Existencebecomes a survival struggle. Ghost pains echo through his whole body,leaving him exhausted and dismayed. Glimpses of the demon haunt theedges of his visions and his paranoia heightens to a virtually endlessstate of terror. He wakes up almost hourly from his nightmaredattempts to sleep and often finds himself staggering to the bathroomto vomit blood until his teeth are stained red.

He’snever felt so out of control. His emotions are untetherable and hisbody is failing him. His level-headedness has become a wild andendless desperation and sometimes he feels the demon moving hislimbs, his eyes, his mouth, without his consent or even awareness.

He’sscared. He’s scared.

“I’mlosing my mind,” he says three days in, when he wakes up to findhimself standing in Cassie’s kitchen, holding a knife.

There’sblood running down his left cheek. He’s cut himself, hard, a freshred scar perpetually sliced across his white face. He doesn’tremember doing it.

He’ssmart. He’s always been smart. Proud, too. Dignified, he likes tothink, with his fine hair tied back and his blue eyes flashing, hisbody fit for fighting and his clothes neat and suave. He has a quicktemper but rarely lets it drive him wild for more than a moment.

“I’mlosing my mind,” he says again, and tries not to cry.

Antiis quiet. Anti is waiting.

“I’mlosing my mind. I’m losing my… I’m losing.”

Hewants Jamie, or Jackie, or Henrik, or Chase. He wants Cassie, orDominic, or Hesed, or any of his friends. He wants Jack.

Buthe doesn’t want to put them in danger.

Hetrembles his way to the bathroom and presses a hopeless bandage overhis fat new scar. Blood drips off his chin. His eyes are red andswollen with exhaustion. There’s an unrooted dandelion curling likean earring on the side of his head, and he tears it off with oneweary motion of his shaking hands.

Hedoesn’t want them to see him like this anyway.

Thethought makes Anti laugh.

Onday four, he tries his best option. His only option, by now. His onlyconceivable option, now that so many others have failed him, and hisresolve is crumbling. Trembling with fervor and fear, he takes atrain to the country and returns to his favorite woods, wanderingdeep, deep into the forest, where the wind blows in cold ribbons pastthe ancient trunks of the trees and his magic curls like somethingvisceral and blue in his mouth.

Theundead thing in his body shrivels beneath the taste of his power,still weak from his attempt to overtake Jack, but does not die.

“Leaveme, leave me, leave me alone,” Marvin says.

Marvinscreams. Marvin sings, Marvin whispers, Marvin cries.

“Leaveme, leave me, leave me alone.”

Hekneels against the cold pure earth, his arms wrapped around himselfand his head to the ground, and he begs everything good andworthwhile within him to reject the horrible hot presence of thedemon, and the strong old forest to take Anti away, and return him tothe nothing he came from.

ButAnti does not go.

You’repathetic, says Anti’s voice,still soft inside his brain. My darling, my kitten, mydearest friend – don’t you know you can’t be rid of me?

“Iwill be rid of you,” Marvin hisses. “I will.”

Thepurification you gave to Jack was your last hope. You exhausted ahundred other options. Nothing gets rid of me. Purify again andyou’ll just give me up to another host, faekid. In any body, I willdestroy my oh-so-generous soul-keep, track down and slaughtereveryone you love, and tear my way back into Sean’s body to make himmy own again.

“Howdare you speak his name?” Marvin howled, and clover and moss burstup in the place where his fists struck the ground.

Faceit, says Anti, and, for just amoment, he actually sounds like he pities him. You’ve lost.And you always will.

Marvin leaves saplings in his footsteps and blue orchids for everypatch of earth dampened by his crying, but he cannot leave the demonbehind. As he walks away, he muses that even the forest no longerwants him.

Corrupt,says Anti, and then nothing more for the rest of the day.

Hegoes to Hesed a week in.

He’sfully weeping his way down the pavement and he’s incredibly cognizantof everyone turning to look at him, frowning as he passes, murmuringto each other as he goes. It makes his blood burn and his face hotwith shame and anger. There’s two more bandages across his face andone is still welling blood from where Anti tried to carve his ownname into Marvin’s cheek. There are flowers in his arms. They lookenough like a bouquet, but they sprouted in his arms and they won’tstop growing – roses, red carnations, poppies, and a spattering ofwhat he thinks are freesia dancing happily in his arms and tumblingonto the pavement behind him.

Atleast his hair looks nice. He managed to shower, to braid it and pinit up into a neat bun. It smells like coconut and there’s one wavingstrand untucked from his ear.

Heknocks frailly on the door of his friend – your friend!Anti laughs at him and Marvin considers turning back, white withfear, but Hesed is already opening the door.

“Oh,”he says, softly, sweetly, worried. “Hi, baby.”

Marvinnearly chokes on relief. In a second, he is shoving forward with hisroses and carnations and poppies and freesia, and there’s brightviolet heliotropium too now, and Hesed reaches out as if on instinctand pulls Marvin right to his chest, wrapping his arms around him andholding him close, close, close. His violinist’s fingers are cool andunscarred.

“Oh,baby, where were you? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Even sick you lookgorgeous, do you know that? What happened to your face, huh? Fuck, Ineed to call Jackie, he’s been so stressed looking for you – ”

“No,”cries Marvin, burying his face in Hesed’s shoulder. “No, don’t callhim. He can’t help, Hesed.”

“Whatare you talking about? Marvin, look at me. Look at me. What’s wrong?”

Hiseyes are deep and brown. He is beautiful the way old buildings andoverfull gardens and love are beautiful. His mouth is very gentle.He’s only ever shown Marvin kindness and he laughs often, but now hejust looks scared. Marvin wishes he could –

“Youdisgust me,” says Anti, and for a second, Marvin assumes it’s justinside his head, but then he realizes his mouth has moved, and Hesedfrowns.

Hedoesn’t shout or reject him, though. He just repeats: “Marvin.What’s wrong?”

Marvinshoves away from him, spilling his flowers onto the floor, and hedarts past him to the bathroom. He can’t tell if it’s him or Antimoving.

Andthen he is in front of the mirror.

AndAnti looks back.

“I’mgoing to kill your little darling,” Anti sings, opening the firstdrawer of the shelves beneath Hesed’s sink. There’s a toothbrush anda first aid kit inside.

“No,”Marvin whispers. Tries to whisper. There’s no movement on his tongue,on his mouth, on his face.

“No?You don’t want me to? You can’t see him again.”

“Iwon’t see him again. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I was justlonely. I’m sorry.”

“Ringaround the rosie,” Anti sings, opening the second drawer, whereHesed’s medicines are arranged in neat categories. Anti’s fingersmuse over a powerful antihistamine near the back, but then he moveson. Marvin hears Hesed swear and mess with his phone.

“Pocketfull of posies…”

“He’scalling Jackie,” Marvin warns. Anti wipes tears off their face. “Ifhe comes, he’ll stop you.”

Alie. They both know he’s lying.

“Ashes,ashes!” Anti opens the bottom drawer, where Hesed stores his razorand clippers and the thin sort of scissors hairdressers use to trimoff split ends. Anti glances up at his reflection and smiles.

“Jackie?”Hesed demands. “Jackie, it’s me – he’s here, he locked himself inthe bathroom. You need to come right now.”

“I’lldo whatever you want,” Marvin struggles to speak. Anti doesn’t evenseem to notice the battle he’s waging. “Whatever you want. Just lethim go. We can go back to Cassie’s apartment. He’s not a part ofthis. He’s not a part of this. Let him go.”

“Youlove him?” asks Anti sweetly.

“I– I – he – ”

“Admit,kitty. I want to hear you say it.”

“Ilove him. I love him, let him go.”

“No,he didn’t say,” Hesed is explaining. He sounds frantic. He soundsscared. “Jackie, please – what, am I just supposed to let thishappen? You want me to step back and leave it to you? I love him –”

“Callyourself my bitch,” Anti continues, sing-song, delighted.

“Andyou’ll leave him alone?”

“Callyourself my bitch, say it.”

“Fuck,I – I’m your – ” Marvin chokes on his dignity. Anti snatchesthe silver scissors out of the bottom drawer, teeth bared.

“No,please! I’m your bitch!”

Antieven lets their mouth move to speak it. It makes the demon laugh,loud and erratic.

“Holyshit,” whispers Hesed, and the handle of the door shakes, hard, buthe can’t break in. “Darling, it’s okay, whatever’s wrong, we’regoing to get you help, okay, I’m here, I’m right here.”

“I’msorry,” Marvin manages to choke out, but then Anti is in controlagain, and the silver scissors are still in hand.

“Okay,”grants the demon. “He doesn’t need to be punished. What a sweet boyhe is. You do, though. Yeah, kitty. Look at your pretty hair. Youdon’t need that anymore. You’re not gonna see your little worshipperever again.”

Hegrips the braided bun on Marvin’s head – on his head. Not reallyhis style.

“Ringaround the rosie, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes!”

Marvinis crying.

“Weall fall down!”

Anticuts his hair off.

Heloses control rapidly after that.

Jackiedoesn’t show up in time to resist either of them. Anti slams Hesed’shead against the side of the bathroom door until he’s unconscious andditches Marvin’s phone.

Theydon’t go back to Cassie’s. He doesn’t know where they are. It smellslike dust and no one bothers them. It’s more like an office buildingor a warehouse than a home.

Anti,not yet strong enough to hold the reigns for long, lets Marvin go fora few hours, but all he does is fail at warding off a complete mentalbreakdown.

Hewants his friends and his violinist. He wants Jameson, Chase, Henrik,and Jackie. He wants Jack.

Ican’t keep him safe. I can’t keep the demon away. I can’t even savemyself.

Itburns to admit. It burns. Anti laughs.

Marvintears at the torn remains of his hair and weeps.

Hehates this, he hates this, he hates himself, he hates this.

Dayspass and he begins to die. His panic transfers to power and his heartcan’t take the constant outpour. Flowers and fire and floating thingsaround him. He hears thoughts that aren’t his when they’re on thestreet and sometimes dead things appear in the edges of his vision.He can’t sleep. Anti doesn’t feed him.

I’mlosing my mind, I’m losing my mind, I’m losing.

“Youwant to be saved,” says Anti softly. “I know, sweetheart. Go on,say it.”

“Iwant to be saved!”

Hedoes, he does, he does.

“I’llbe with my human again soon.”

DidAnti say that or did he? Is this even his flesh? Anti gives him a fewminutes of control and he spends the whole time staring at his hands,trying to force himself to realize that they’re his.

Thisis real. This is real. Is this what I’ve become?

Hefinds himself in front of a mirror. He doesn’t know how much time haspassed. He doesn’t know what Anti’s done.

Hiswhole face – from his forehead to his chin, from ear to ear – iscovered in deep, heavy-bleeding scars.

Criss-cross,straight, long and short. There’s too much blood in his right eye forhim to see out of it, or maybe Anti has popped it out.

Heis the ugliest thing he’s ever seen.

“Wantanother one?”

Ittakes him a long time to realize Anti is asking him a question.

“No,”he says, dazed.

Hypnotized,he realizes absent-mindedly. That’s why nothing hurts. When did thathappen? He doesn’t remember anything.

“You’lldie in a few days,” says Anti gently. “After I leave you to goback to my human. How does that sound?”

Hismouth opens and closes again. For a second, he sits in the haze ofAnti’s power, but then his fear sets him free.

“No!”he screams, jerking back, and pain – no, fire, sunfire, hellfire –erupts through the slashed flesh of his face. His eye is actuallygone; he can feel the empty squelching of veins in its socket.Horror and revulsion explode like smoke bombs in his ribcage. “No,I don’t want to die! I want to go home! I want my family! I want myfriends! Jameson! Jackie! Sean! Sean!Please, someone help me! Please, God, pl – ”

Hechokes and vomits as Anti yanks back control, throwing him to theback of his own head. Marvin screams in whatever medium he has leftand thorns explode in the walls around them, tearing through cheapcork walls and tile flooring to wrap around Anti’s wrists – no, hisown wrists, where he used to hang his bracelets or tug on the ends ofhis gloves, his wrists, his body. A holler comes from his mouth, andthis time, the cry is Anti’s.

“Littlebrat,” hisses the demon, tearing at the thorns. He laughs as theytear deep into Marvin’s wrists, causing them both hurt. “Look,aren’t we joined close now? You can’t get rid of me and you werestupid to think you could. Say it, admit it. You can’t get rid ofme.”

“We’llfind a way,” Marvin snarls.

Andit is he who drags them to their feet.

“Who’s‘we?‘” Anti laughs.

“Mybrothers. My friends. Sean and I. Fine, you’re right, I was stupid. Ishould never have tried to handle this alone.”

Heshoves through the barricaded door of the abandoned building andstumbles down into the street. Someone screams. He wonders if they’llcall the cops. He needs to get home, soon. Lucky for him, Anti’sarrogant. He doubts they’re far from his family. He grabs the man whoscreamed and, in a polite slur of exhaustion and blood loss, asks himwhich way it is to Carnation Park, close to home.

“Youthink your brothers will want you?” Anti hisses as they barrel downthe street, blood dripping down their face. “Look at you. Look atyou. Look at you.”

Marvinswallows back copper. Passes by his favorite bookstore. Inside, hesees Dominic – warm, friendly, funny Dominic, an old friend –working the counter.

“Gotalk to him,” laughs Anti. “Show him your missing eye and yourshorn hair, little sheep. He’d help you!”

Shamewells in Marvin’s gut. He can’t bear to think of Dominic seeing himlike this. He keeps going, dizzy and sick. Bleeding fast.

Hesed’sapartment building rises before him.

“Gosee him! Your love! Your darling! Go kiss him and have him call yourbrothers! Or do you think he will have forgotten what you did?Tearing into his house like a freak, flowers squirming with growth inyour arms, cutting off your hair in his bathroom and leaving himunconscious and afraid. He probably thought you were high. But heloves you, doesn’t he? Go see him!”

Tearsburn in Marvin’s eyes. No, Hesed won’t want him after that. And hedeserves better anyways.

“I’mclose enough I can get to my brothers,” he croaks, and the demonlaughs.

Theystumble. Anti hasn’t cared for Marvin’s body at all. Maybe themagician will die soon after all. He’s never missed Henrik more.

It’sbeen weeks, but Carnation Park is the same as it always is.

Onlya block away from the hidden house, this place has always beenimportant to them. This is where Chase brings his kids when they’rewith them, pushing them up and down on the swings for hours on end.Jameson kissed his first romance here, beneath the bird’s nest wherethe woodpeckers live – came home flushed and proud, grinning fromear to ear, someone else’s scent still lingering on his jacket. WhenHenrik’s trauma was trapping him in the house, this was the firstplace he forced himself to walk to, and when Jackie was exhaustedafter a fight, this was where he came to watch the leaves fall andstop thinking about anything at all. It is the address they give tocab drivers, the meeting spot for any excursion, the place marked“Home” on all their Google Maps.

Andit is here that Marvin stops.

Stops,sinks, collapses onto a green bench beneath a dogwood tree by the moss pond, and can go nofurther.

Fora minute, Anti is quiet too.

Theywatch the birds flit through the trees. Someone’s dog barks. It’stwilight and the moon is already visible in the blue-dusk sky.

Thereare flowers everywhere. It’s spring. Marvin can’t see them. There isblood and salt in his eyes.

Whyare you crying? asks Anti.

Hissmile makes Marvin’s mouth turn up. Cold and hateful. Too manyreddened teeth.

Ithought you were going to get help. I thought you were going back toyour little hiding hole. Isn’t there something you were looking for,kitty cat?

Marvinsobs.

Curlsup on himself on that park bench.

Bloodstains his black dress pants.

“Iwant my brothers,” he whispers. “Please, please. I want myfriends. My brothers. My human.”

“Oh,Marvin,” says Anti, lifting up their head slowly, slowly. “Youthink any of them will want you now?”

“They’dlove me no matter what,” Marvin screams. “They’d love memutilated. They’d love me blind. I know that! I know that!”

“Butyou don’t go to them! And forget the way you look, my dove, myrabbit, my witch. Don’t you know what I’ve used this body for? Deathand worse, faekid. Death and worse. Rosebushes bursting fromribcages…”

“No!”Marvin howls.

Isthe blood on his hands from his face or his enemies? He doesn’tremember. He didn’t know. It’s not his fault. “It’s not my fault!It’s not my fault! I didn’t know!”

“Oh,puppet, but you remember some of it. You remember calling yourselfmine. You remember leaving that forest, even though it was your lasthope. You’ve had a thousand chances to kill yourself, and maybe takeme out with you, but you haven’t! Coward boy.”

“No,”Marvin says again. It is the only thing he can say. He can hardlyspeak through the rapid-fire beating of his heart, hardly thinkthrough the heat swallowing up his brain. “No, no, no.”

“Yourfriends? You think they’d be proud, to see what you’ve become? They’dhand you over to the police, don’t you know that? Hand you over andremember you as a freak. You can’t trust them. They don’t want you.

“Yourbrothers? You think they could still love you, after this? You ranaway from them. And for what? I’ve won anyway, Marvin. Now you’re alittle murderer. I should have let Jackie catch us as we took theirlives. I would have loved for you to see the hatred in his eyes. Therevulsion. Ugly little thing.

“Andas for my human –well, pet, you and I both know Sean would never want you after this.He created you to save him. And could you do it?”

Alie.

Jackdid not create Marvin to save him.

Hejust wanted a friend.

Hejust wanted a brother.

Inthat moment, Jack would have done anything for Marvin to come home.Would have given anything to wipe the blood from his face, smooth his short hair, and hold him close, close, close. The others would burst in too, so relieved it would make their chests hurt. Henrik would patch everything up and make all the pain go away, and Jackie and Chase would be there too, soothing and comforting, distracting him for hours on end and promising him safety, and Jameson - Jameson, JJ, his friend, his brother - would stay by his side and cling to him for hours and hours and hours, the word “love” pressed in sign language against his heart.

ButMarvin doesn’t come home.

Marvin doesn’t come home.

“AmI wrong?” asks Anti.

Bloodand salt. Black flowers beneath hisfeet. He’s never seen any flowers like them.

“Justgo to them,” Anti mocks him. “Just go. Go to your friends. Go toyour brothers. Won’t they be proud? Won’t they be proud to see you?Magnificent. Magnificent. Get up. Isn’t that what you wanted? Getup.”

But Reader, Marvin never does get up.

Marvinnever does get up.

JustAnti.

Theflowers in Carnation Park wither.

[rosesisupposes]

Watch Them Run

Part 5 of Another Goddamn Hero Story

read on ao3

Chapter Pairings: Platonic & Romantic Analogical, Romantic Royality, Pre-Romantic LAMP, Romantic Remceit

Chapter Warnings: Violence/fighting; allusions to smut; some miscommunication

Word Count: 4,981

Taglist: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @bewarethegrammarpolice​   @jemthebookworm​ @arandompasserby​  @sparkly-rainbow-salt​ @astral-eclipse​​ @thelowlysatsuma​ @monsterinatophat @turtally-pawsome @um-yes-hi-hello @idkaurl

Chapter Notes: Can you tell I love writing the boys as gay disasters? Can you also tell that I am in love with Remy? Fun fact: I have a playlist for this AU of 24 songs, 11 of which are Panic! at the Disco. I regret nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Air rushed by Virgil’s ears as he flew over Harmony City. It was truly lovely in the twilight, when the first pricks of silver light were appearing in the indigo sky and the last rays of the sun were glinting off rooftops. And the moon had risen early tonight, shining bright and full above his head. He was flying slowly, making the rounds of his regular patrol. He was currently somewhere in the southwest, near Sycamore Heights, and knew Logan was in the north covering his quadrants. He was alert and aware, but not on edge - tensed to move and defend at any moment, but passing birds and bats didn’t make him jump.

What did make him jump was a sudden buzzing at his wrist.

The coordinates flashing from the HATCH alert sent him wheeling north. It could just be one of the ordinary villains they faced on a regular basis - all the supers in the region seemed to flock to the city sooner or later. But some sixth sense told him it would be the terrifying pair from the week before. He hoped Logan would arrive at the same time - he didn’t want the speedster to go up against both villains alone.

The coordinates led him to the middle of the city, right on the street that divided the north and south. There was a construction site here, some government-funded building, but Virgil couldn’t remember what. A children’s hospital, or a school, something along those lines.

He stayed in the air, hovering, blending in with the darkening sky. He didn’t have enhanced vision, but unlike his bespectacled partner, he had pretty decent eyesight naturally. He peered into the shadows of the building skeleton that was slowly being built up in the crater of some past super fight. There. Movement. And occasional flashes of red light. It was them.

He flew down slowly, scanning the streets. No sight of Logan yet, but he couldn’t be more than a few seconds away. And they’d devised strategies for situations just like this. It was Virgil’s responsibility to start them off before Logan arrived.

He flew down and alit silently on the tallest beam to watch more clearly what the villains were up to. Gale Force said something to the Marauder, then floated away to the perimeter. The Crimson Marauder was creating constructs again - another bomb, by the look of it. What was it with these villains and wanting to blow shit up?

He landed heavily and knocked the red-and-black-clad man back with a single blow to the chest. The Marauder fell back, his constructs immediately vanishing as he stumbled. Virgil froze for a moment - had he used too much force? He didn’t want to be cruel, not even to an attempted saboteur. But the man rose with a grown and sent a huge ruby fist the size of a small car hurtling back at him. Virgil crossed his arms and braced, letting the impact hit and dissipate without harm. He straightened again, and made eye contact with the villain. The Marauder stared, open-mouthed.

“What the hell, that didn’t even phase you?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. “I mean, maybe you could actually try this time, Princey.”

The Marauder stiffened. “What the fuck did you call me,” he snapped.

“Oh, sorry, was that rude? Didn’t mean to pop the whole ‘reinvention’ bubble you’ve got going on here,” Virgil offered with false sincerity. “Though I gotta say, love the new outfit compared to the old one. Very Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.”

Virgil was answered with a yell as psionic constructs came flying towards him, accompanied by the villain himself. Swords, bats, and what looked suspiciously like a keyblade flew harmlessly passed him as he dodged swiftly and grabbed the Marauder by the front of his uniform. He pulled him close, halting the villain’s momentum, then pinned him up against a partially-built wall. The Marauder seethed, scowling at the hero who kept him trapped as constructs blinked into existence and faded again.

“You know nothing about me, you posh-ass hero-boy! With your fancy suit and your cushy support of the city and your beautiful hair!”

Virgil cocked an eyebrow. “Aw, you dig the purple? Always nice to be appreciated by my fans. And I’m sure I’ll be getting to know you very well, once you’re all cozy and locked up.”

“You’ll have to catch us first!” a voice rang out. Gale Force was hurtling towards hero and villain, winds funneling around him as the pressure knocked Virgil entirely out of the way.

Virgl landed hard on the ground. It didn’t hurt, per se, but the shock left him almost winded.

Gale Force patted the Marauder’s cheek. “You all good, Roman?”

“Yes, my dearest Patton. Go get him.”

Roman and Patton, Virgil thought, fixing the names in his brain as the wind manipulator sent a small hurricane whistling towards him.

A dark blue blur came into being around Gale Force, a matching tornado that spun faster and faster. Virgil smirked. Logan’s timing, as always, was impeccable, and the speedster was turning Patton’s trick from HEARTS against him.

The villain stumbled and started to choke, then toppled over. Logan came to a halt just in time to catch the villain in his arms.

Excellent, caught him, he thought to himself, when his thoughts were suddenly diverted by an entirely new train. The villain’s blue eyes fluttered open under ginger curls that appeared to be constantly bouncing in the wind. Partially passed out, the man’s freckled face looked so… open, and vulnerable, and lovely, and what was happening to him?

It was at that moment that a huge excavator arm made of glowing red light plucked the grey-and-blue-clad villain out of Logan’s arms as the Marauder recovered his partner. Logan scowled, mind back on the task, and sped towards Roman. The construct holding Patton didn’t disappear as a ramp sprang into being right in Logan’s path, sending him running straight into open air. Without hesitating, he used his momentum to land on a beam of the partially-constructed building, then leapt across to another. The Crimson Marauder, still holding Gale Force, began flying up, but that only brought him to Logan’s level. The speedster leapt across from beam to beam again, landing a blow on the villain’s cheek. It sent the man spinning and caused him to drop the just-waking Patton. The wind-raiser caught himself before he hit the ground and threw himself once more at Virgil. Prepared this time, Virgil leapt into the air to dodge the attack, then came slamming down with a punch to the villain’s jaw. Patton staggered back and tripped, but remained conscious.

“Getting a little hot, Pattycake!” Roman cried from where he dodged and weaved around Logan’s quick jabs.

“Just like you, Romano Cheese!” Patton called back. He took off into the air, spinning a wall of air to knock Logan back. The moment gave Roman enough time to gain altitude above where Logan could reach from the growing building. Virgil flew up, ready to follow, but Logan shook his head. Instead, Virgil hovered in the air by his partner as the two villains flew off once again, much slower this time.

“We got them away from their target without anyone else getting hurt. That’s what matters,” Logan commented. He looked up at Virgil. “Is something the matter? What did Gale Force do to you before I arrived?”

“Lo, you might not believe this, but this Patton guy is actually tough enough to match me. I didn’t hold back at all.”

Logan looked worriedly at his partner, but was surprised to see some mix of awe and excitement on Virgil’s face.

“V? You okay?”

“I’m great,” the hero replied with feeling. “For the first time ever I don’t need to worry about pulling my punches. I can just… cut loose.”

And over the following weeks, he did just that.

The villain duo were tricky - they never seemed to go for the traditional targets of huge gatherings of people or grand openings of buildings. They continued a string of sabotage attempts around the city, along with a host of thefts and small vandalisms. Logan and Virgil had officially become the on-call heroes for them. All the others on the HATCH call were too easily flustered by Gale Force’s unnerving dichotomy of viciousness and wordplay or by the Crimson Marauder’s distracting showboating and flattery.

Patton was loathe to admit it, but he was growing accustomed to their recurring opponents. They weren’t friends, of course not, but they were… familiar. Almost comforting in that familiarity. There was Reflex, powerful, huge, and yet Patton could tell he consciously chose to not punch the less-durable Roman with all his strength. The ginger man may have needed glasses, but he’d have to be fully blind (not to mention deaf) to not be aware of how attracted his partner was to the hero despite their opposition. And Patton… was not unmoved. He wasn’t one to lie about his feelings, even when it was an impossibility. A hero with a villain? Particularly this hero, the strongest one the city had, with these villains, the scourge of City Hall?

And then there was Doctor Vectorious. The speedster. Curse him and his muscled thighs and the way his forehead crinkled when he was frustrated with their latest scheme. The tiny sighs and barely-concealed smiles whenever Patton told yet another pun. It was incredibly rude of the hero to be this endearing when he was the worst of his kind. Maybe it was his black-and-white goggles that gave him such a dichotomous view of other supers: either active hero, or villain. No in between. Which was rich, given that the ‘active’ heroes were never enough to save everyone. How many times had Patton wished he could have been just a little faster that fateful day, and now a man who could have been thought he was in a position to judge?

Patton had thought he was alone in his frustrating attraction to the short hero until the villains were relaxing in their home one lazy evening. Stretching out dramatically over Patton on the couch, Roman had proclaimed, “These heroes will be the death of me.”

“No they won’t, my Crim-sunshine. Because I’d kill them first!”

“No, my love, not actual death. Just… gay death.”

“Oh, yeah,” Patton hummed sympathetically. “That last time Reflex pinned you, I knew I had to get you free before you started moaning. They don’t need to know how loud you are.”

Roman flushed. “It’s just so rude. His nickname is ‘Flex and that’s all I want to see him do.”

“It’s okay kiddo, you’re a gay disaster. I love you anyway.”

“It’s not okay!” Roman wailed. “Because the Doc was monologuing the other day and he pushed his goggles back and his hair was all windswept and I tripped over my own construct.”

Patton flushed. “You… think he’s pretty, as well?”

Roman looked up from where he’d face-planted into a pillow to make eye contact with his partner. “Pat! My dear Gay-le Force, hater of all speedsters, finding our resident Doc Vectorious pretty?”

“No!”

“Ooohhhhh, you totally have a crush on him!!” Roman teased.

“No more than you do!”

Roman giggled. “Darling, you said it yourself, I’m a disaster, that means nothing. My influence has been grand. You’re officially a gay disaster, too. Although in your case, maybe you’re a gay natural disaster. Like, Hurricane Gay-trina.”

Patton grinned brightly at the pun, and kissed Roman on the cheek. “You have more experience with this, what do we do now?”

“Oh my dearest Pat,” Roman said with a smile, “now we scheme harder.”

“Why will that help us with the fact that we now both have crushes on the heroes who fight us on an almost-daily basis?”

“Because,” Roman declared, standing into a dramatic pose, “now we will scheme with debonair grace! We won’t just steal riches, we will steal their hearts!”

At that moment, the police scanner in the corner crackled to life. It had taken many tries, but Roman had finally found a way to tap into the hero channel, real-time reporting of the system they used to summon heroes in response to villain activity. And now, even through the static, the current report made him frown.

“...respond...Reflex…-torious...Antiques…Shadow…” a voice read out through crackles and pops of a shaky signal.

“Flex and the Doc?” Patton confirmed aloud.

“Sounds like it, my sweet summer breeze.”

“But they’re our nemeses!”

“Well, we should go join them then, shouldn’t we.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since he’d been notified by the Mayor’s office a month ago, he’d been awaiting this moment. Logan sped through the city, focus narrowed only on his speed as he arrived at Something Borrowed Antiques in seconds flat. He knew Virgil was coming as well, but this was a case where it was Doctor Vectorious who was truly needed. As strong and powerful as he was, even Reflex wasn’t immune to the unique powers wielded by the villain known as Moonshadow.

Logan came to a halt at the corner across from the storefront and adjusted his goggles. He’d built them up to include tech of his own invention, including, on this occasion, binocular focus, night-vision, and heat signatures. He peered across at the building. Moonshadow was likely inside, but had they brought a lookout? A small movement above the door answered that question for him. It looked like a lizard - a chameleon, perhaps? - was crawling inside.

“Ah, so you’re looking out for them again,” Logan murmured to himself. He adjusted his goggles back to regular distance and sped across the street, entering the building and zipping through the grand halls in a barely-perceptible blur. He zipped and zagged through glass cases filled with dainty porcelain and around stately showrooms of gilt-encrusted furniture. He knew where he’d find the villain he sought, and it would be…

Ah yes. Right there. On the actual throne of some bygone ruler.

The villain was lounging across the velvet seat of the throne, admiring the jewel-encrusted rings that adorned every finger. There was a lot of them to lounge, though at least half their height was made up by impossibly-long legs. An antique tiara perched on top of their head in sharp contrast to their artfully-mussed hair and ever-present leather jacket. Today, the jacket was paired with form-fitting leggings and a crop top that read “Royalty” in bedazzled purple and gold letters. As he ran closer, Logan could see the glinting rhinestones and jewels reflect in the sunglasses they wore even now, indoors and at night.

God, they were so- what was the word Virgil had used?

They were so goddamn extra.

Without letting his attention waver, without a single pause in his speed, Logan raced up to the reclining form and pulled them up roughly, pinning their arms behind their back and holding their torso pointed firmly away from himself.

“Good evening, Remy. Having fun?” he asked politely.

“Doctor, babes! How’s it been?” Remy asked, twisting as they tried to look at the hero holding them firm.

“In the month since you broke out again? Adequate, for the most part, but Corbin, of course, misses you.”

“Aww Corbie, what a sweetie. I knew he cared under all that bluster of ‘No I can’t let you out’ and ‘Do the crime, serve the time’,” Remy drawled. “I suppose I’m going back to visit him again?”

“Yes, Rem. As a reminder, not that it ever makes a difference, this,” Logan said, free hand gesturing to the stately room, “is theft. That’s when you take something that isn’t yours without asking or paying for it. Much like that bank heist you pulled off last month.”

“But Logan,” Remy said earnestly. “No one’s using it, why can’t I have it? Finders keepers, right? C’mon, just let me take some bling. It’ll be funny.”

Logan used both hands to hold the villain now, rolling his eyes. He supposed that it was only fair that the one villain who knew part of his secret identity was the one he’d been capturing and re-capturing for three straight years now.

“Rem, put the rings back on the throne. All of them.”

“But Lo, baby, honey, sweetie,” Remy pouted. “I look so good in them, right? Like, I know I make the tiara work, but hun. You should see me in a crown.”

Logan sighed pointedly as the villain fidgeted in his grip.

“C’mon, it’s not like anyone told me to leave,” they complained.

“Remus, I truly do not know how to explain it more clearly than I did last time: if you use your ability to make people forget they’ve seen you, that does not count as consent for you to continue doing whatever you’re doing.”

“But consider this: it’s funny.”

Ignoring him, Logan adjusted his grip, freeing one hand to send a message to City Hall. “Is Damon here tonight? I thought I spotted him outside.”

“You know I would never break our national no-snitching policy, babes.”

A clatter from outside, followed by an angry hiss that dissolved into a string of swears, made Logan quirk a smile.

“Ah, I see Reflex has arrived. That must be him and Damon now.”

The villain in his grip sighed contently. “I love our little catch-ups, Lo, but you know I always love to see my boi ‘Flex.”

“I will have a hold on you, so you will not be seeing anyone. Don’t you try anything on him,” Logan warned.

“You never want to share anything,” they pouted. “Or anyone.”

“Reflex, we’re in here!” Logan called, ignoring the captive villain. “I’m holding them away from the door.”

“Thanks, Doc!” Virgil called back. He entered the room, carrying a skinny man of medium height over one shoulder. “How’re they?”

“Better now that you’re here, ‘Flex,” Remy called, unable to turn towards the hero. “Are you manhandling my boyfriend again?”

“No, I love being carried like a sack of potatoes,” the man replied from Virgil’s shoulder. He wore a yellow and black bomber jacket. Unlike his partner, he actually wore a mask that covered his eyes and half his face and was attached to a black bowler hat. The eyes underneath it had reverted back to their normal hazel, but scales were still visible in spots on his face and hands. The multi-colored chameleon scales still matched the wall color, sticking out starkly against the puffy burn scars that protruded out from under his mask.

“Put him down!” Remy complained. “No hands on the boyfriend unless it’s an open invitation for us both.”

“Yeah this is definitely the time and place for that offer, babe,” the man drawled.

“Doc, is containment on the way?” Virgil asked, ignoring the couple’s back-and-forth.

“Yes, they should be arriving… just about now, actually.”

The two heroes towed their captives towards the front of the building, where Logan’s sense of timing had not yet failed him. A green truck was parked outside, labeled ‘City of Harmony: Enhanced Ability Containment Unit.’

A tech in green coveralls approached the heroes cautiously. “I’ve got the stasis cuffs, Doc, you ready?”

Logan nodded, and shifted his grip to hold Remy’s head towards the building. The tech came forward and snapped cuffs around their wrists. Virgil deposited the man he’d been carrying on the ground.

“Does he need cuffs too?” the tech asked.

“Technically, as a lookout only, he’s not guilty of any crimes-” Logan started, but was interrupted.

“Yes, I definitely do, I am very much guilty. Send me to lockup. Preferably right next to that one,” he said, gesturing towards Remy.

The tech frowned. “That’s… not really how this works?”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean, we could say he abetted an attempted burglary. Even if the real crime is just watching out after his partner’s dumb ass.”

“I heard that,” Remy called out. “And I’m flattered you’ve finally noticed my ass.” A tech had cautiously removed their sunglasses, revealing eyes that looked like marble orbs. Finally able to move on their own, they turned to face the heroes and their boyfriend.

“What can I say, when the man’s right, he’s right,” the boyfriend in question replied with a shrug.

“Damon, you love me, right?”

“Nope, not at all,” Damon replied, walking up to his partner. He cupped the villain’s cheek in one hand that was still dotted with slowly-fading scales. “Love is definitely not a term I would use.” He kissed them softly on the nose, and then on the lips, smiling as he did so.

“Well that’s gay,” Gale Force commented from the building’s roof.

“Not as gay as me,” the Crimson Marauder pointed out as he landed on the other side of the small group assembled by the truck.

“Fuck,” Virgil said with feeling. “Quick, get Rem- get Moonshadow into the truck,” he told the techs.

“What about the Viper?”

Virgil quickly glanced behind him to see Damon kissing Remy firmly, than suddenly shrinking as he transformed into a chameleon once more.

“Let him go, he’ll turn up soon,” Logan called out as the reptile skittered off into the shadows. In less than a breath’s time he was back-to-back with Virgil, both keeping eyes on the two newly-arrived villains. Without needing to speak, both heroes moved out into the street, away from the civilians.

The Marauder strolled closer, towards Logan. “So, less than two days from our last encounter and you’re already hanging out with other villains?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sorry to break it to you, but it’s true. There are others. So many others. It’s almost like it’s our job to stop acts of violence from anyone who tries it.”

“Are we just not enough for you anymore? Have our schemes lost their charm? Do I need to scheme harder? I swear by Barbra Streisand I will scheme harder!”

Virgil caught himself smiling fondly when he noticed a slight movement and heard the rush of air coming from Gale Force. He was moving immediately, grabbing Logan as he leapt away. The targeted gust hit the pavement where they’d been standing hard enough to dent.

“Look at how fast you move!” the ginger villain beamed down at them. “This is why we’re so well matched, kiddos!”

Virgil set Logan back down on his own two feet before whirling to face the air manipulator again. “What do you want? You two don’t usually drop in on us, we just stop you,” he demanded.

In a flash of red, the Marauder was lounging on a floating platform just above Virgil’s head. “Would you believe me if I told you it was to just to get your attention?”

“You’ve had our attention,” Logan remarked drily. “You’ve yet to retain our interest.”

Roman sat up with a gasp, one hand splayed on his chest, the other draped gracefully across his forehead. “Cads, the lot of you. My honor has been besmirched, my loveliness impugned, my-”

“Wow, you really are unbelievably extra any chance you get, aren’t you.” Virgil said, deadpan. He flew up into the air to dodge another wind attack.

“That appears to be a theme today,” Logan commented, casually side-stepping Roman’s recovery as he lunged at the speedster with a glowing red sword. “I believe I used the word correctly to apply to Remy earlier.”

“See, I told you the flashcards would help,” Virgil said earnestly, grabbing both of Roman’s arms with one hand and pinning him to his own platform.

“Wait, you have flashcards?” the villain asked, incredulous. He lifted his head from where Virgil casually held him trapped. “What a Microsoft nerd!”

“Now Ro, we don’t need to be mean,” Patton admonished. Roman let the construct platform disappear so that he could fall out of Virgil’s grip, and Patton sent a breeze swirling through to buffet the tall hero back, allowing his partner's escape. “There are just so many new terms these days, what with the kiddos and their ‘moods’ and ‘yotes’ and ‘wiggles.’”

“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs vocabulary cards,” Logan muttered, running past Patton to spin the man’s body into dizziness.

Roman was just standing from his cushioned fall when a force pushed him back down. He was knocked flat on his back as Virgil’s weight trapped him there. Before he’d processed the fall, a hand grabbed both his wrists and pinned them above his head. He looked up into Virgil’s masked face, only a foot away from his, eyes boring into his own. All his constructs promptly faded as his fighting mind went blank.

“‘Flex, darling, you could have just asked,” he murmured. It appeared the only brain function remaining was Excessive Flirtation. “It’s not like we haven’t both been thinking it.”

And Reflex… didn’t immediately scoff. A slight smile quirked at one side of the hero’s mouth. Roman wasn’t sure what he’d done right, but he was not above trying to press his advantage.

“You know, the city may label me the villain, but it’s clearly you on the wrong side of the law.” Letting his eyes travel very obviously up and down the hero’s body, Roman continued with a grin. “It must be a crime to look this good.”

Virgil snorted, his free hand coming up to cover his smile. “Really? Pick-up lines? That’s where we’re at now? I thought-”

A sudden cry of pain ripped his attention away. His head snapped up in time to see Logan sliding to the ground from the wall Gale Force’s winds had thrown him into. Without thought, Virgil was in the air, streaking towards the villain to keep him from hurting his partner again. His fist crashed into the grey-clad man, knocking him back ten feet in a single blow. Eyes blazing, he followed after, ready to strike again.

Gale Force whirled, sending twin tunnels of wind from each hand. One sped towards Virgil’s chest, the other towards where Logan shakily stood up once more.

“NO!” Virgil yelled, his voice booming out in a shock wave around him. Gale Force suddenly froze, his eyes wide. The Marauder, too, was frozen, but in mid-air as he flew towards standing hero. Logan, twice as far away, was unaffected as dusted himself off. Virgil raced over.

“Lo, are you okay? Any broken bones? Is your back alright? God, that was such a hard blow, I’m so sorry, I was distracted, I wasn’t protecting you-”

“Virge, I’m okay. It’s okay. I’m fine. A little bruised, but I was able to cushion the impact.”

Virgil grabbed the shorter man to him and hugged him, holding him tight. “Thank god. I’m still sorry. I should have been over here. Gale Force is clearly the bigger threat, and I let myself get distracted.”

“Distracted?” Logan asked, raising a single eyebrow. He glanced over at the still-stunned Crimson Marauder, and back at Virgil.

The tall hero flushed under his mask and released Logan. “Oh wow, look at the time, better get containment here before the freeze wears off,” he muttered, tapping at the communicator on his wrist.

“Gentlefolk of all genders, observe carefully,” Logan said, smirking. “You’re witnessing a truly historic event. Virgil ‘Reflex’ Skylar appears to, for the first time ever recorded, have been affected by another man the way he affects everyone who likes men.”

Virgil’s blush deepened as he nudged Logan with an elbow. “Very funny. You know it’s not the first time.”

Logan’s eyebrow rose again, this time quizzically.

Virgil half-smiled, still blushing furiously. “You know. You.”

“What?”

“Wait, did you not know?”

“Know what?”

“Lo, I’ve had a crush on you since the moment we met. I thought I’d been, like, pretty fucking obvious?”

Now it was Logan’s turn to blush as his brain, normally so quick, struggled to catch up. He opened his mouth to reply just as the same green trucks from before pulled up.

“I- we can discuss this later. Once we’ve gotten these two safely secured.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #337397

Classification: M.2.ii [Secondary Tier Neutral, Acquired Powers]

Name: Moonshadow

Status: INACTIVE

/////////Reason: Incarceration

Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: CONFIDENTIAL] Remus “Remy” Dormions

Affiliation: Villain

Partners/Sidekicks: DI#337500 - The Viper

Primary Foes: DI#337255 - Dr. Vectorious

Powers: Short-term memory manipulation

/////////It was previously thought they had invisibility powers, but security cameras have shown us that they can just cause onlookers to forget seeing them until they’ve passed from view

Costume: N/A

/////////They just wear a leather jacket and sunglasses even when it’s not necessary, like when it’s raining or nighttime or indoors

Age: 25

Height: 6’5”

Pronouns: They/Them

H.E.A.R.T.S. Class of ‘15

Note: Started neutral - more chaotic than evil. In the words of DI#337255 - Dr. Vectorious, “They’re not motivated by evil, but they just don’t seem to understand you can’t just take whatever you want.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #337500

Classification: M.2.ii [Secondary Tier Neutral, Acquired Powers]

Name: The Viper

Status: ACTIVE

Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: CONFIDENTIAL] Damon McLeggan

Affiliation: Neutral

Partners/Sidekicks: DI#337397 - Moonshadow

/////////Less super-partners in the traditional sense, more he’s occasionally dragged along with them and tries to keep them out of jail

Primary Foes:  N/A

Powers: Shape-shifting [reptile forms only]; Poison secretion

/////////While shifting to reptilian forms can happen almost instantly, some quirk of the mutation means the shift back takes much more time. We’ve recorded a lag of over 24 hours after a shift.

Costume: Black and yellow bomber jacket, bowler hat with attached mask

Age: 23

Height: 5’7”

Pronouns: He/Him

H.E.A.R.T.S. Class of ‘12

Note: Inciting incident: some memory loss regarding exact details, but apparently was forced to be bitten by a snake that had been genetically manipulated by DI#265333 - The Mystic Magician; Rescued in the raid on MM’s lab, but sustained severe burn scars from MM’s attempt to blow the lab as the heroes invaded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[brazenbells]

stretched on your grave

Happy birthday to my dearest @imindhowwelayinjune​!

I wasn’t sure what to do this year for your annual dose of brotherfuckers, but then I stole an idea from @hylianthvs (SORRY I TAGGED THE WRONG PERSON WHEN I POSTED, OMG I’M SO SORRY IT WAS 4 AM MY BRAIN WASN’T WORKING) and decided to make some OCs in the Kingdom of Rust sandbox.

These OCs....may seem somewhat familiar.

(Also, please enjoy the titular song, which is eerie and terrific, as a sort of unofficial soundtrack)

Warnings for implied incest and implied dubcon/noncon. Everything’s offscreen though.

His half-brother was a complete bastard.

Oh, not in the literal sense, that was Taidgh himself—but in the common usage, yes. Indisputably.

Nothing stuck to him. His hands were, somehow, always clean—not the glamoured sort of clean either—and yet he advanced. In the cutthroat, smile-at-your-front-and-knife-at-your-back court, where ‘friends’ was a polite word for people low on your hit list, people genuinely liked him. What was that about? And it was a mystery how he found himself in their company to begin with. How did he get his title, how did he keep it? He could have killed their father at the height of his power, but instead he waited till the man was laid low, unable to conceal the pain anymore. A mercy killing. Who fucking did that?

Who did that and didn’t immediately get overtaken by a stronger adversary?

Fucking Gale, that’s who. He always came out ahead.

Taidgh had a little extra salt about that mercy killing, anyway. It was his kill to make. He’d struck the penultimate blow, the wound that wouldn’t put their father in the grave directly but finally made him weak enough to show pain. It had cost him dearly; he’d had to lay low for a month waiting to die or get stronger, and when he’d finally pulled himself together, his fucking brother had already put the man out of his fucking misery.

He wound through the dark garden, careful of the thorns (there were always thorns, in the gardens of Faerie). Gale would be here somewhere, and now Taidhg was ready for him.

In the distance, music welled up right at the edge of Taidgh’s hearing. Mysterious, directionless snatches of music weren’t unusual in Faerie, of course, but this wasn’t the usual haunting melody of not-quite-definable instruments. This was a soft, soaring baritone, with a distinct location; as Taidgh wove nearer through the hungry brambles, it resolved into a dark Irish ballad, because of course it did.

We’re not Irish, you pretentious fucker. Taidgh could overlook the hypocrisy inherent in thinking that, given what he called himself—because spelling it Tig and hearing people pronounce it with a short i was not to be borne.

“My apple tree, my brightness, it's time we were together…”

At least the singing made him easy to find. And, likely, masked any slight sound made by Taidgh’s approach.

“For I smell of the earth, and am worn by the weather…” Gale did smell of the earth, that was true enough. Not the damp graveyard soil of the song, though: dry, sunbaked earth, and nothing else. That made him stand out too, in the court, where everyone was masking something. It should have been suspicious. It was suspicious, to Taidgh, even if no one else seemed to catch it.

It didn’t matter. He’d killed their father, however pitifully, and now Taidgh would kill him; it was the way of things, the cycle proceeding as intended. The title would pass, justice would be done, and he would have all the power that was his due. It wasn’t the first time a usurpation had been short-lived.

Gale’s voice threaded through the hedges like a ribbon in a maze; Taidgh had only to reel it in, following its brightness through the moonless night.

There was a brazier burning in the clearing where the voice led to at last. Gale was facing away when Taidgh came upon him, the fire at his back; he wore a loose shirt of some gossamer nonsense that did nothing to obscure the fine musculature of his shoulders or the warm brown of his skin. The flame gilded his curls, tumbling loose to a little below his collar. He was sculpted very finely, even Taidgh had to admit; why had he never noticed it before? Maybe he should—he wanted—

He could swear he didn’t make a sound when he stepped into the clearing, but Gale broke off singing and turned, his face lighting in a smile that was far too genuine for someone in his position. “Tiger.”

Taidgh mentally shook himself—what nonsense had he been thinking? They were half-brothers, which was bad enough, and enemies, which was worse. You didn’t fuck with people you sought to eliminate; it was a good way to put all your vulnerabilities on display. Admiring (he didn’t even let himself think the word desiring) Gale would be positively unacceptable.

Not that he did—it had only been a strange passing thought. Maybe he wasn’t quite as recovered as he’d believed. Never mind, though. He was still hale enough to put a knife in his brother.

“Lord Nightingale.” He gave him the title, to keep his guard down.

“You heard the news, then.” Gale’s smile dimmed.

“I came to congratulate you,” Taidgh offered, and Gale’s expression shuttered completely. Pathetic. Soft hearts have no place in court.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” he said, and turned again, taking a few steps away from the glow of the brazier, staring moodily off into the darkness. It was inconceivable that he had survived this long. Who would turn their back on Taidgh in such circumstances, alone in a dark garden?

Taidgh took a silent step forward.

“I let him suffer as long as I could,” Gale said, and Taidgh stopped, confused. It was a strange sentence to hear in Gale’s voice; like his namesake, it was a sweet voice, cutting through the darkness with no darkness of its own. “I know it wasn’t enough, but you know I couldn’t leave him that way for anyone to see. I promise, I made it as terrible as I could.”

Taidgh didn’t know how to answer that. He also didn’t know why his arms were prickling, the hairs standing up; if anyone could startle him with brutality, it certainly wouldn’t be his brother.

Gale glanced briefly over his shoulder. “I’m sorry you weren’t here for it. I couldn’t find you, so I assumed you’d come to me when you were ready. We have a lot of work to do, you know.” He turned back to gaze into the night again. “Our name isn’t what it once was, and he let too many greedy hands take from what should have been our holdings. That will take time to build back up.”

Taidgh shouldn’t have lingered, but he couldn’t help the itch of surprise and curiosity. “We?”

“I need a lieutenant, of course. Name your terms. I assure you I can meet them.”

Maybe Gale wasn’t quite as much of a fool as he seemed. That might have neutralized a weaker challenger, forced teaming and the offer of reward without the risk of an open fight. It didn’t matter; there were no terms Taidgh would take.

“You want me at your side?” He let the slightest bit of reprimand slide into his tone; do you know you’re clutching the asp to your breast?

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Gale was impervious to the warning.

Taidgh didn’t have to be fair, but no one could claim he hadn’t been, even so. A flick of his wrist put his knife in his hand; he crossed the clearing to join his brother, opening the arm as if to embrace him.

Gale did not turn when he drew nearer. He seemed to have forgotten Taidgh was there at all; his voice raised again in song, a golden thread against the night.

“Do you remember the night we were lost? In the shade of the blackthorn and the touch of the frost…”

Taidgh hesitated.

Maybe—maybe this was a mistake. Was it really so unappealing, being Gale’s lieutenant? Especially when he could name the terms—assuming that was true. He could demand the manor. He could demand the right to come and go between Faerie and the mortal world as he pleased—he certainly hadn’t had that under their father’s command. He could demand all the resources at their disposal, for whatever pet project he might want to tackle.

He could demand—

“The priest and the friars they approach me in dread, for I love you still, oh, my life, and you're dead…”

Taidgh lowered the knife. He had come around halfway now, could see his brother in profile; even silhouetted in shadow, Gale was striking, the shape of his lips as he sang stirring something that shouldn’t be stirred.

“I still would be your shelter, through rain and through storm. And with you in your cold grave I cannot sleep warm…”

He could demand anything.

Yes, there were terms he would accept. He opened his mouth to say so; he tossed his knife away, somewhere in the hedges, who-cared-where. Gale was watching him now, still singing, still singing; then he realized he didn’t need to demand anything, because what more did Taidgh really desire than to please his brother?

The curve of Gale’s smile said that he understood; of course he did, because he was clever as well as fair. Taidgh came the rest of the way around, standing before him now.

“I am stretched on your grave and I’ll lie here forever. If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they would not sever…”

Gale lay a hand on his shoulder, pushing him gently down to his knees. Taidgh went, with gladness; seeking to please, he leaned forward to nuzzle his face against the front of Gale’s trousers. Gale laughed softly and caught him by the braids, tugging him back. “Time enough for that later. I told you, we have a lot of work to do, first.”

“Command me,” Taidgh begged, and couldn’t make sense of the part of him that recoiled to hear the words. Why shouldn’t he say them? He was Lord Nightingale’s lieutenant.

What greater joy could there be?

But he had not pleased Gale either, it seemed; he sighed, looking almost regretful, and passed a hand over Taidgh’s braids like a benediction. “I did offer you the choice,” he said at last, shaking his head.

Maybe that was why he was unhappy. He had told Taidgh to name his terms, and Taidgh had not named any. He could do that, though, easily. “You. I want you.”

“I know,” Gale said, with exasperated fondness. “Maybe someday you will in truth. Or maybe,” he cupped Taidgh’s cheek, “you will go to your grave first.”

Taidgh would dig it himself, should it please his lord.

“For now, get up.” Gale put out his hands and Taidgh took them, letting himself be pulled to his feet; Gale took a half-step backwards just as Taidgh came to his feet, setting him off balance so that he had to catch himself against Gale’s chest. They lingered like that a moment, faces close, Gale’s gaze fixed on Taidgh’s mouth; but by the time Taidgh realized he should offer himself up again, Gale set him right and stepped back. “Later,” he said again, more to himself than to Taidgh.

He left Taidgh’s knife where it had fallen; made a short gesture to quench the brazier, and put them in darkness.

They didn’t need light, though. Gale knew the path blind, and went along it singing; Taidgh followed behind, leashed by the golden thread of the Nightingale’s song.

[find-the-eyes]

I’ll Try Anything Once: Chapter 12 (Part 1)

Written by: ss Edited by: Sol, Allegra

Alex sprinted back to his flat a few blocks away. He got changed and grabbed his bag, still feeling uncomfortable but not wanting to worry Bob. He shoveled a few handfuls of cereal into his mouth and went back outside at exactly 8:00, waiting for Bob in the lobby downstairs.

Bob arrived exactly on time that morning, and Alex was thankful that he had been able to run home as fast as he did.

“Good morning Alex,” Bob said, looking half-asleep but still smiling faintly at Alex. Alex was still trying to catch his breath as they started their morning routine of walking to class together. Alex was able to huff out a short reply before struggling to even out his breathing again. They fell into comfortable silence, their steps matching, the wind softly blowing as they trudged their way to campus. The nice weather that morning had put the two friends in a content mood.

As Alex calmed down from his earlier run, he started humming a tune, a smile plastered on his face, his hair slightly tousled and cheeks rosy. Bob noticed this, quietly admiring the man’s features. It was times like these that his heart did a little skip and he felt like he was very, very lucky to be able to be friends with a man like Alex Kapranos. Like everyone else, Alex sure had his flaws, but Bob was definitely too struck by the wit and charm that had come with it. Bob’s serene mood did wonders to his confidence, and before he could stop himself he blurted out words he’d usually refrain from saying out loud.

“I miss this.”

Alex turned his head to his friend, a questioning look on his face. “Miss what?”

Although Bob was looking down at the sidewalk, a sheepish smile had formed on his face. His soft cheeks mirrored Alex’s own rose tinted ones. “Well, it’s been a while since we walked to school together,” Bob clarified.

“Has it?” Alex tried to recall. It was surprisingly true. They hadn’t been walking together lately, both busy with their own morning agendas. For Alex, it had been checking up on his new friend Nick.

With their ever changing personal schedules, he and Bob had only been able to spend time together on campus lately. This wasn’t a problem to the both of them of course, since Alex enjoyed his newfound quality time with Nick and Bob always welcomed solitude, but walking side by side silently was a routine that they had picked up over the weeks. It had given both of them the comfort of knowing they were not alone in trying to get through art school or the harsh adult world they were still trying to get accustomed to. Alex felt a sudden surge of fondness for his first friend in Glasgow. He reached out and wrapped his arms around the man beside him.

“Wh—Alex!” Bob exclaimed in surprise. His face had gone red, Alex noticed, up to the tips of his ears. This only made Alex hold the man in an even tighter embrace.

“Oh, Bob! I’m sorry I left you alone these past few days,” Alex said. “This is to make up for all those days my poor Bob had to walk by himself!” They had stopped walking now and Alex took that chance to lay his head on Bob’s shoulder.

Bob had never been a touchy feely person, not even with his friends back home. He'd always been afraid that his touches might get weird and his friends would get creeped out, so he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. But the hug with Alex felt really nice, the way his arms firmly held Bob and how soft the man’s hair was as it tickled the side of Bob’s face. Bob tried to worm free for the sake of calming himself down. His heart was hammering so hard it felt like it was about to burst out of his rib cage. He took a step back to move away from Alex, but the man still clung to him tightly and they ended up almost falling back into the brick wall behind them. Alex hummed contently now that Bob had his back against the wall, so he could lean in to Bob as much as he liked, and that was exactly what he did.

While Alex enjoyed the soft shoulder he currently had rested his head on, Bob was starting to panic. A few passersby glanced at them and Bob tried his best not to meet their eyes. He and Alex must’ve looked quite intimate, hugging in public like this. What if people thought they were a couple? The mere thought of him going out with a guy was enough to make him blush, and now he was publicly being pressed against the wall by a very attractive man. Bob hoped his body wasn’t doing anything weird. He tried to shuffle his feet so his lower body would stop being so close to Alex’s.

“Alex, please...” Bob pleaded, shutting his eyes tightly in embarrassment. Alex looked up at Bob with a wide smile.

“Hug me back.”

“What?” Bob squeaked.

“You’re not hugging me back,” Alex whined, looking at Bob with what Bob could assume were his best puppy eyes. Bob simply couldn’t say no - not that the puppy eyes had worked, but he gloomily thought to himself that this was probably as far as he might go with another guy, even if they were just friends. So Bob carefully wrapped his arms around Alex’s back, giving him a few awkward pats. He hoped this would be enough, but to Bob’s dismay, Alex only returned his head back to Bob’s shoulder.

“Alex...” Bob warned. They had hugged for far longer than necessary now, not to mention they might be running late to class. Bob was ready to forcibly push Alex away if he persisted with whatever it was he was currently doing.

“You’re a great friend Bob,” Alex said softly, “and I love you.”

Bob felt himself grow tense in Alex’s arms as Alex continued speaking. “I’m so glad I’ve met you. I’m glad you’re here with me. I really am sorry I made you walk alone the last few days.”

Alex really did feel bad. He thought of Nick - how Nick had probably been in Glasgow longer than Bob or Alex, how Nick had been alone all that time. Alex felt very fortunate to have found someone he could rely on so early on in his stay in Glasgow.

“Alex, if this is about the walking alone thing, it’s okay. Paul walks with me sometimes,” Bob sighed as he felt Alex’s tight grip loosening. Alex slowly detached himself entirely and Bob had never felt so relieved.

Alex frowned slightly. “Paul walks with you to campus?”

“Some mornings, yes,” Bob answered, still shaky. It was a miracle enough he’d been able to form words after Alex’s sudden act of affection. His head was still spinning, and his face burned like he’d been out in the sun for hours. He gave up on hiding how flustered he probably looked and focused on straightening his slightly rumpled shirt instead. “Please don’t ever do that again,” Bob muttered before he could stop himself.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Alex said, actually sounding apologetic. “I was just...Ah, I don’t know. I just felt like I should tell you how grateful I am.”

Bob managed a smile in return. He did feel nice knowing that Alex had valued him that much as a friend. He wanted to tell Alex how much he meant to him as well, but didn’t want Alex to publicly display any more affection for now. He cautiously switched the subject.

“Paul misses you too,” Bob said as he started walking again. Alex followed after him and caught up in a few seconds.

“Does he?” Alex was glad that Paul was there too. Even if he wasn’t that acquainted with him yet, Alex was glad Paul was there for Bob. He knew how shy his friend could be at this point of their relationship, so having Paul around would be a great way to help him open up. Alex’s thoughts wandered to a certain man again, a music school student, with a tattered but cozy makeshift bungalow. Maybe Alex was the Paul to Nick’s Bob. He let himself chuckle at the strange thought.

“Yeah. If you’re looking to redeem yourself for the walk come join me and Paul for lunch today,” Bob offered, smirking. Before Alex could answer, the blonde checked his watch and cursed. “We’re running late, let’s go!”

Both Alex and Bob sprinted all the way to class, making it inside the building just before the doors were closed. They were both still panting at their seats when the class started, with their delay placing them in the front row. As usual, the lecturer paid no attention. The lecturer also ignored how Alex and Bob tried to suppress their laughter after what had just happened. In the middle of trying to regain their composure Alex leaned in to Bob.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll grab lunch with you and Paul.”

“Alright,” Bob whispered, still chuckling. It had been such an eventful morning for Bob that he almost found it hard to focus during class. His thoughts kept wandering as he was too excited for lunch with his two dearest friends that afternoon.

[asoftervirge]

between the salt water and the sea strands

RATING: PG PAIRINGS: R. Sanders/P. Sanders (main); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)

FIC WARNINGS/KINKS: mentions of Deceit (once), descriptons of phantom pains(?), mentions of food, FLUFF GALORE FIC SUMMARY: Roman takes Patton on a little date(?) to the village and something akin to sparks happens between them.

TAGLIST: @backatthebein, @levy-the-b00kw0rm, @ierindoodles, @rosesandstuff, @notveryglittery, @patchworkofstars (if anybody else wishes to be tagged, please let me know!)

<< Chapter 5 >> Chapter 7: coming soon!

“So, Patton! Are you ready for the best adventure of your life!” Roman asked Patton astray stepped out of the house. The other man nodded excitedly; he wanted to go out into the Human World as quickly as he could. For months, years, he admired the World Above from a distance, and now, it was finally his time to experience it personally. Finally!

Roman chuckled heartily at his friend’s enthusiasm— even if they had only met that day, he truly began to consider him a friend. There was certain familiarity between them that words couldn’t describe; it was different from his relationship to Logan, yet, it was just as special.

After a while, Patton realized that he actually didn’t know where they were going. He looked around, trying to recall how he had arrived at the cottage, but he had no idea if he would be going in the right direction. So, he just turned to Roman with a sheepish smile.

The former captain had a feeling he wouldn’t know where to go; he was just curious to see how long it would take to admit this. And he had to say, it didn’t surprise him that it took a short period of time.

“I take it you need help getting to the village?” he asked, raising an amused brow at his new friend. Patton nodded and looked down at their intertwined hands. Roman chuckled and his free hand reach up and was about to cup Patton’s cheek, but quickly changed his mind and dropped his hand. He didn’t know if the boy would be comfortable with that kind of affection, and scaring him was the last thing he wanted to do. “Come, I’ll show you the right way.”

Roman lead Patton to the backyard (which was landscaped very beautifully with various trees and flowers) and goes to a singular, barn-like building; as soon as he sees a beautiful horse resting in the stable, Patton opens his mouth in a silent gasp. He’d seen sculptures, drawings, and even bits of information of these majestic animals, but he never saw one in real life. They were so much bigger and more beautiful than he imagined them to be.

He turned to Roman with a bright smile and pointed at the horse, hoping he would be allowed to approach her.

“Yes, you can get close to her,” Roman nods. “She doesn’t bite, but she will kick if you scare her. And, believe me, it is not pleasant.” He slowly leads Patton to the large animal. “Her name is Rosa, I’ve had her ever since I was a young boy. She was a young pony then, and she’s one of my dearest companions, outside of you and Logan, of course.”

Patton smiled as he nervously followed Roman. Rosa neighed softly as they saw the two men near her and Patton smiled at Roman with a childish glee. When he reached her, the former mer-prince carefully lifted a hand to pet the animal, scared to startle her.

Once she sniffled his hand and deemed him friendly, Patton combed his fingers through Rosa’s long, thick name, slowly trying to work up the courage to pet her neck or head. Finally, he decided to pet her head. He cautiously lifted his hand, afraid to poke the animal in her eyes if he did the wrong thing. Roman noticed his caution and watched the scene with an encouraging smile. When Patton finally touched the muzzle of the horse, his face lit up with a brand-new excitement and his movements slowly grew calmer.

He pets her for a few more minutes, he he realized that Roman had to free her eventually. So he dropped his hand and looked to the former captain who still held his hand; he nodding, hoping that Roman would get the hint.

“Are you ready to head out to the village now?” Roman had a feeling that was what he meant, but he needed to be sure. Patton nodded. “Very well, then. Let us be off.”

Roman opened the barn door and ushers Rosa out of her home. He kept his smile on as he carefully helped Patton onto the saddle., explaining what all he had planned.

“The port of Alexandria also has a market. I thought you might want to go there,” he tells him. “And there is a strip of the beach I wish to show it. It’s completely isolated; I highly doubt anyone ever goes there. Maybe we could spend some time there, looking over the sea? And…if you’re interested, I could take you out tomorrow; possibly go horseback riding or maybe boating?”

Patton beamed at the man who was now sat in front of him, nodding vigorously. All of that sounded fantastic— though he had to admit, doing anything with Roman would be fantastic regardless of what they did. Then man held onto Roman’s waist and rested his head on the other’s chin. With a click of the reins (and a blush on his face), Rosa begins trotting out of the backyard and onto the gravely road that leads to port.

They slowly started moving through the roads, the view of the sea quickly making place for the small houses and buildings of the village. Soon, Rosa began to gallop, the scenery around them going by faster and the wind blowing in their faces more.

With Patton squeezing his waist tightly, Roman began to cherish the former mer-prince’s presence even more. There was something about him that just— drew him in, in a semi-strange way. It called out to him, intrigued him, yet he couldn’t put a finger on it.

Then, Rosa slowed down as they began to enter the village. Patton, who had been staring at the outside world for the entire ride, turned his head and looked at the former captain with a giant, child-like grin. He could barely contain his excitement and joy, and again, Roman felt a smile appearing on his face as he looked at him.

Gods, his excitement is infectious and simply adorable. Everything about him was just adorable. The way he became excited over the simplest things, the way he smiled when he got this enthusiastic, the way his eyes sparkled. Everything. He was just this soft little ball of love.

With help, Patton was able to get off the horse without really tripping over himself. Despite this, Roman was right there beside him, carefully making sure he doesn’t accidentally injure himself in the process. Even if it wasn’t necessary, Patton continued to have his arms around Roman (and the former sea captain the same) before pulling away.

The narrow streets were filled with people and stalls bearing all kinds of products, ranging from clothing to food to flowers to any decorative pieces. Everything was brought and sold to the main port for trading. Any and everything was here.

Patton grinned as he grabbed Roman’s hand, pulling him along to the first stall he sees. The former captain laughed softly as he followed, being careful not to trip as he is dragged along.

As soon as they stopped at the first stall, Patton let go of Roman’s hand and started studying the items on the table before him. He vaguely heard people greeting them and making small talk with Roman, but he didn’t really care about that. At the moment, all he cared about, were the gorgeous pieces in front of him.

“Hey, Patton?”

Patton looked up, finally tearing his gaze away from the stall before him as he met Roman’s eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“If there’s anything you want here at the market, please let me know. I’d love to buy something for you, is that alright?”

The former mer-prince nodded then he turned back to the table. If he could, he would buy everything at the market, but he could never ask Roman that; it looked as though he and Thomas have very little money to begin with, so it would be incredibly selfish of him. But everything looked so gorgeous!

But then, one particular piece caught his attention: it was a necklace. A necklace that looked like a golden vase with black being the main color. And directly in the middle was a gorgeous aquamarine gemstone. Patton found that it was so captivating, so gorgeous.

He just knew, that he needed it.

Patton turned around, rapidly tugging at Roman’s sleeve in order to get his attention. When he finally obtained it, he pointed to the necklace he had seen. Roman smiled as his eyes studied the former mer-prince’s face; the eagerness was practically visible in his eyes. There was something pure and charming about it.

Roman turned to the merchant on the other side and announced that he wanted to but the necklace. The merchant smiled and announced the price, to which Roman payed for it in whatever gold he carried in his purse.

The merchant thanked Roman as they picked up the necklace and handed it to him.

“Here you go, Roman,” they smiled politely. “If I may ask, who is your sweet little companion?”

Roman looked at Patton for a moment before answering, silently asking if it was okay to respond. The latter immediately nodded, seeing what the former captain would say.

“His name is Patton,” he responded as he turned to the merchant again. “He is a friend of mine. He would answer for himself, but he does not talk much.”

“Oh, I see.” the merchant nods. “Well, Patton, I must say: you are a very charming young man.”

Patton grins brightly and made a small bow, like he had to do back in the Royal Court of Atlanna. The merchant smiled and nodded as Roman said their goodbye. The necklace was put away in Roman’s pocket. He held Patton’s hand again, trying to maneuver them through the bustling crowd.

For a moment, Patton looked down at their held hands and smiled, very well aware of the former captain’s touch. As soon as there was an opening, the two boys moved forward, walking to the next few stalls, which Patton found equally fascinating as the first one was.

The two of them walked past stall after stall for what must have been a few hours. Finally, Roman bought some breads, fruits, meads and ales, and some more seafood from a few more merchants and led Patton away from the ruckus, finally showing him the beach that was a little ways away from port.

It had been concealed by a good number of boulders, shielding the little piece of land from the rest of Alexandria. The noise of the village had died down significantly and Patton could hear the sounds of nature once more. The waves crashing on the sand, birds chirping sweet melodies, and the sounds of the wind brushing past their ears. It all was so peaceful and serene.

Roman sets down the basket of purchases, making sure it was in a place where no seagulls would get at it, before turning to Patton with a smile. He holds a hand out and the former mer-prince smiles back at him, taking his hand and they begin walking the beach.

Even if walking was still incredibly painful for him, Patton loved the feeling of the saltwater against his feet, sending waves of nostalgia through his body; the sounds of waves crashing was almost a call to (or from) home. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the ocean that he once called his home.

“Can I tell you something?” Roman starts after a long period of silence, interrupted only by the sound of the waves crashing against rocks on the beach. “A few days ago, I was in a ship wreck. I lost my beloved ship, almost all of my crew, and nearly my own life…but then, someone saved my life that night. I don’t know it who was though; they disappeared before I could even say anything. They just…vanished without a trace. All I know is that they have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard, and I saw a tiny bit of their face, but the sun obscured most of it. And…I know it sounds ridiculous, but I need to find them. Even if it is just to thank them for saving me. I need to know who did it. They saved my life and I…Logan doesn’t seem to understand. He doesn’t believe they are real. But I know they’re out there, and—”

When he paused, Patton squeezed his hand and gave him an encouraging look.

“—my Father seemed to have the notion that it might’ve been a mermaid or a merman that saved me.” At that, Patton could’ve swore that his breath hitched. “So, that’s why I wanted to go back to the cove on the day I met you. To look for the mer-folk, and maybe find the one who saved me,” he chuckled softly. “It sounds pathetic, I know. Yet all I can think about is the mysterious angel who rescued me that fateful night.”

Patton’s heart skipped a few beats when he realized that Roman was talking about him. He didn’t know what emotion he should feel: happy because his seafarer remembered him, upset because there was no way he could tell him, or afraid because a Human knows about mer-folk and wanted to discover who they were. If Patton told him that he was a merman, it could possibly jeopardize the future of Atlanna, his family and Virgil could all be in danger. Yet…he wants to tell him, more than anything in this world.

But how could he? How could he make it clear that he was the one who rescued him? If only it were possible for him to write in the Human alphabet.

“Patton? Are you alright?” Roman asked, frowning at the other in concern. “Do you…think it’s possible? That I could find my mer? That I’m not…waisting my time chasing a hopeless dream?”

The former mer-prince shook his head and his heart broke a little as he realized that Roman mentioned must’ve been things that Logan had said to him. If only he could tell him that Logan was wrong; it wasn’t a hopeless dream, that the mer he was looking for was right here! Yet he was voiceless and unable to speak this truth.

“I have to admit this to you, Patton,” Roman confessed with a soft laugh. “I didn’t think anybody beside my Father would believe me.”

Patton squeezed his hand and stood a little closer to the former captain, hoping that his gesture would convey the message he wished he could voice, the words he wanted to pronounce yet couldn’t. He really wanted to hug the man next to him, but he wasn’t sure it was appropriate

(They barely knew each other, after all.)

Roman looked at the man standing beside him and smiled, making Patton’s heart beat faster and faster. He was so handsome and his smile was just…so perfect. There weren’t any words to describe this moment. None of them would do justice.

“I thank you, Patton.” Roman’s voice was barely audible over the sound of the waves in the background. “I appreciate it greatly. I’m glad there’s another person who believes me.”

Patton gives him a simple nod. After that, they didn’t speak for a while; just looking out at the sea, waiting for a call he would never hear. Shortly after that, Roman looked at the boy next to him, seemingly awake from his trance. Neither of them knew how long they had been there, but it was slowly growing colder and the sun was setting.

Roman suggested that they go back to the cottage, the village shouldn’t be as busy as it was that late afternoon. The other boy nodded and they silently walked back.

(Before they did though, Patton looked back at the sea, almost saying a permanent goodbye to it as he could almost sense Roman falling in love with him. However, before he could leave, he hears a sorrowful melody from far away in the ocean. His eyes widen and glazed over with tears when he sees, in the far distance, Virgil and his brother Emile floating on the water.)

(Looking to see Roman walking ahead of him, Patton rushed back to the water, despite the pain searing his feet, and beckoned to them. They immediately recognized him and their eyes showed nothing but grief and remorse. Once they waved their tearful farewells to Patton, the former mer-prince could’ve sobbed when he saw who else was floating with them.)

(His mother. His dearly beloved mother, with her elegant crown and pearls on her being, was also there as well. She had not been up to the World Above ever since she was a young girl, much like Patton was, and now here she was, greeting and possibly saying goodbye to her son. She stretched her hands out towards him, silently begging him to return home to her, to the sea where he belonged. His heart shatters as he shakes his head, tears pouring down his face as he does.)

“Patton?” Roman’s voice suddenly called out to him.

The boy quickly wiped his tears and turned his head to see Roman standing atop one of the boulders; concern was on his face as he saw Patton continuing to stare off at the sea.

“Are you alright?” he asks. He looked out at where Patton looked but he couldn’t really see anything. (In Patton’s mind, it makes sense. He didn’t have the vision that mer-folk have.)

Sniffling quietly, Patton nods and (painfully) follows Roman up the boulders and on the path to the village so they could return to the cottage.

-,-,-,-,-

When they got back to the cottage, Patton noticed that Thomas was waiting in the kitchen for them, a mug of tea in his hands. When he sees them walking inside, a smile was on his face.

“Hello, boys,” he greets warmly. “Did you have fun at the market?”

Roman nodded. “Yes, Father.” He places the basket on the dining table. “I got some groceries at the market for tomorrow’s meals.”

“Thank you, Ro. I appreciate it.” Thomas smiles as he kisses Roman’s cheek. (Watching this made Patton’s heart break, making him think of his own parent, who he had to say goodbye to moments before.)

Patton distracts himself by noticing that Thomas was now wearing a white, multi-layered skirt instead of the pastel pink one he wore earlier. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was so beautiful and it looked more comfortable than the trousers he was currently wearing.

“Is there something wrong, Patton?” Thomas asked, noticing his gaze. The other man blushed and shook his head, feeling embarrassed that he got caught staring. “Do you like my skirt? I noticed you staring earlier today while I was cooking.” Patton nodded, a small smile gracing his features. “Would you like to borrow one? It might be a little bit too big on you, but it shouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

Patton’s eyes lit up at the offer and he nodded enthusiastically. He loved the way the skirt looked, how it flowed when he walked. Everything about it looked wonderful. Thomas softly chuckled at his enthusiasm and nodded.

“Very well. I’ll go through my closet and see if I can find an appropriate one for you to wear. Right now, you boys need to go to bed. Logan’s already asleep, so try not to make too much noise, okay?”

“Alright, Father. Have a goodnight.”

“Goodnight, boys. Sleep well.” With that, Thomas set his mug in the sink and walked away into his bedroom.

Roman turned to Patton. “Come, let me show you to your bedroom.”

The two boys walked through the hall on their way to Patton’s room— most of the room’s looked the same to him, but they each had their own design to them which made them unique.

“Here is your room,” Roman announces when they stopped in front of a dark, wooden door. Patton looked at the other and waited as he opened the door. Roman was the first to step inside, the former mer-prince followed him quickly. “It’s the guest room, so I hope it’s okay for now.”

Patton nodded as he looked around. It was a comfortable-sized room with sea foam green walls which was a nice contrast to the wooden floor. Against the back wall, Patton saw a bed large enough to fit at least two people, covered in a dark blue quilt and crisp white pillows. Furthermore, there was a dresser, a nightstand, and a bookshelf.

If he could, Patton would spend his next few days holed up in his room. He didn’t want to, of course, but there was always a possibility that he could.

While Patton looked around, Roman made his way to the dresser that had been near the door, rummaging through the drawers like he did earlier today. Finally, he found what he was looking for; a long nightshirt and loose pants. He got the clothing out and handed them to Patton, telling him that he could wear these at nightclothes. The young man nodded as a silent thank you.

Roman, out of politeness and being a gentleman, turned around as Patton changed out of the clothes he was currently wearing, respecting his privacy. After a few moments, he turned around again. “Do they fit alright?” Patton nodded. “That’s good.”

Patton slowly (and carefully) walked over to Roman and held his hand, it was something that they’ve been doing an awful lot today. Even if they weren’t able to communicate, Patton enjoyed his company, and, if he were honest, he didn’t want to be alone for the night. Actually, he didn’t want Roman to leave at all. All he wanted was for the other man to sit down next to him, to hug and cuddle him until he fell asleep.

He knew it was weird, as they officially knew each other for almost twenty-four hours, but he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking that way. No matter what, he loved Roman. So much, even after this short period of time. (Was that weird? It might be weird.)

Roman smiled and gently squeezed his hand back as he gazed into Patton’s eyes. For a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning as baby blue eyes met reddish-brown ones.

In that moment, Patton desperately wanted to kiss Roman. He would never do it. Not now, at least. They hardly knew each other, and Patton wasn’t even sure Roman wanted the same thing. And he couldn’t necessarily ask the other for consent, he decided it would be best to just let Roman initiate the moment when the appropriate timing arrived.

For the longest time, neither one of them looked away from each other and Patton was sure he felt a spark between the two of them. In that one moment, he made a decision; he shuffled closer to him so their chests were now touching. Patton had never really been this close to anyone outside of his family and Virgil, but he wanted this chance.

There was no other place he would rather be right now he just wanted to be with Roman.

Feeling courageous, Roman released Patton’s hand from his grip and wrapped his arms around the other boy, pulling him just a little closer (if that was even possible with the way they were flushed together). With a happy and content sigh, Patton rested his head on Roman’s shoulder, ready to pull back should the other not feel comfortable with how they were.

When he didn’t notice any change in Roman’s attitude, Patton closed his eyes and smiled blissfully, feeling happier than he ever felt in his entire life.

Roman carefully tilted his head so he was looking down at the man hugging him, his nose brushing against Patton’s soft, fluffy curls. (Melons, he noticed. Patton’s hair smells like melons. It smelt nice to him, heavenly even; it almost hypnotized him.)

So many questions ran through his head. Who was Patton really? Where did he come from? What had happened to him when he washed up on the cove? Why couldn’t he speak? There was so much Roman longed to know about this mysterious person, but he feared he may never receive the answers he was looking for. Unless they found a way to communicate, those questions would remain unanswered.

In all honesty though, who was he to complain? He didn’t need to know Patton’s backstory to understand that he enjoyed his company. Patton was so uniquely charming, something about his attitude was so optimistic and endearing. And yet…there was also a, familiar air about him. It was as if they’d known each other for as long as Roman knew Logan.

It was…a happy, yet very curious feeling…and Roman wanted to know more.

They stood in silence, both of them lost in their thoughts for what feel like hours, and yet, it also felt like it was only a few moments. The sky grew pitch black and the stars twinkled brightly when Roman decided he needed to go to bed himself.

“Patton,” he said softly as he continued to look down at him. The latter stirred in response and Roman smiled as he continued. “I should be heading to bed now. It’s grown black outside.”

Reluctantly, Patton agreed and let go, feeling himself grow hollow at being away from Roman’s touch. If he could, he wanted Roman to stay with him for the remainder of the night. But he knew he couldn’t ask him of that, but he didn’t want the man to leave him right now.

“If you need my, mine and Logan’s room is the just down the hall.” Roman informed as he slowly made his way to the door— yet a piece of him was unwilling to leave. “My Father’s room is just in front of yours, so you can also go to him if you need help, alright? I’m sure he would be very happy to help you.”

Patton nodded and Roman left his room. When he was alone, he walked to the window that was near his bed. In the distant darkness, he could see the sea and he couldn’t stop the wave of homesickness rippling through his body.

He absolutely adored the hours he spent in the World Above, but, even if he said their goodbyes to him earlier today, Patton missed his friends and family. The World Above was so different from Atlanna. Not in a bad way; just…different.

With a sigh, he made his way to the bed. His step was a little inconsistent still and he nearly lost his balance a couple times, but he was slowly getting used to this whole walking-thing. (Remember Deceit’s words, he said mentally. Stand up straight and bear the pain, then you’ll look as though you’re gliding on the air.) Even if he was making slow progress, he couldn’t wait to see what would come about tomorrow.

Patton smiled as he laid down on the mattress— it was surprisingly soft and comfortable. He let out a soundless giggle at the warm and fluffy feeling. He closed his eyes as he encased himself in the quilted blankets.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.