#away from that horrible MS that won’t stop talking about itself

[waywardstation]

While I know he’s not part of the AU at all, I’m just cackling over the concept of Melli’s MS being the biggest, loudest, blindingly brightest thing in his head (which is a literal mountain with him at the top). His MG is probably Adaman? Alternately, his MS is actually very shy and views himself as a failure of a Warden, and only MG!Adaman could really pspspsp him out. MS!Melli would throw things at Akari from hiding.

But in the AU proper, does Melli have a car? Always dark because the memory-Melli keeps stealing the torches, full of outtakes about his ridiculousness, smelling vaguely of Skutank and camellias, and even occasionally a genuine moment where he and Ingo were nearly friends?

Melli is actually a part of the AU I think haha, we haven’t discussed this in a while but it seemed he’s one of the few people that stick around with actual Ingo while Uxie puts Irida and Akari into his mind.

Various discussions way back mentioned people that would be with Ingo so he wouldn’t be alone, which included Laventon, Rei, Zisu, and Melli.

Lady Sneasler is the only one I know for sure who would be there to help him. (And a projection of Lady Sneasler based on Ingo’s memories of her would be with Akari and Irida in the mind station!)

Really, Laventon would be there to study Uxie, and maybe Zisu would maybe be there cause she’s Ingo’s good friend. (Ingo and Zisu being great work buddies is my FAVORITE). But Melli? He got dragged there to help by Akari when she was getting the whole procedure ready and retrieving Ingo and Lady Sneasler from their highlands station. Rei was supposed to help but couldn’t last minute and she needed a replacement, so she grabbed Melli since he was close by.

The entire time he’s not sure what to do and stressing everyone out more than helping them haha, but Ingo appreciated at least he’s not leaving.

sorry I went on a tangent there haha ^^;

BUT MELLI’S MS?? ANON THAT IS SUCH A FUNNY CONCEPT I CANT EVEN IMAGINE

Melli was said to be very shy as a kid and I do feel like a part of that has always been there. But the thought of his MS trying to hide that with the gaudiest, most egotistical things while also physically hiding behind MG Adaman, telling everyone to keep his mindscape tidy is great. The guy would certainly have layers to him.

And that last paragraph is very interesting! I do wonder what Melli’s traincar would be like in Ingo’s mind station. I’m sure MG Emmet keeps him locked in the traincar because if he ever left, Remnant would 100% snatch him up haha Melli would not have the skills needed to dodge and run.

[mayraki]

✧ chapter two: the missing girl - b. barnes x oc series ✧

-> lost-shoe’s gif

‘let’s play fire with fire’ series masterlist

my masterlist

summary: sera has to deal with the consequences of helping sam and bucky while still trying to get used to being a part of a team. and bucky finds himself not wanting her to be alone.

FEEDBACK IS VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! :)

“So... control fire, huh?” Bucky asked when the silence became unbearable between him and Sera.

She turned to him while her arms where across her chest and she was comfortably sitting on the seat next to Bucky. “What?”

“I’m just- trying to be nice.”

“You literally saw me back there. You know is fire. Is like if I went ‘hey, metal arm?’” She rolled her eyes and went back to staring out the window.

“We definitely started with the wrong foot. Maybe if we just-”

“That’s not gonna work.” She cut him off. “And, wrong foot? You literally accused me of wanting you two dead!”

“That’s why I was trying to be nice!”

“Then don’t! Being nice clearly isn’t helping.”

“Fine! I won’t be nice.” He said loudly trying to keep his full attention on the road ahead of him, but the girl next to him didn’t seem to let him. “Torch.” He said under his breath but loud enough for her to hear him.

“Screwdriver.” She said in the same tone dropping herself more into her seat and leaving her head to rest on the back of the seat.

Even if she didn’t want to talk to Bucky, the silence surrounding them was making it even more awkward than the situation already was. So turning to the side looking for something to do or say, Sera let out a tiny smile when her eyes noticed the button to turn on the radio.

“Don’t turn it on.” Bucky said immediately once he noticed her fingers going towards the car’s controllers.

“Why not?”

“The music is not good.”

“What? You don’t like modern music?”

“Yes I do.”

“Then why I can’t turn on the radio?”

“Just don’t.”

“Damn. Do you ever smile?”

“When I throw that bucket of water on you I will.” Sera let out a tiny fake laugh and then nodded.

“Never smile and not funny, what a deal, huh?”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“News for me.” As soon as she said that Bucky moved uncomfortably on his seat and grabbed the wheel with his two hands and that made Sera look at the metal arm in the other side of Bucky’s body. She bit her lower lip staring at it since a million of questions were flying around her mind. It was the first time she was in the presence of a super soldier and let alone someone that had a vibranium arm. So curiousity was her main feeling in that moment. “Can you take it off?” She asked without breaking her sight from Bucky’s arm but since Bucky didn’t look at her, he furrowed his eyebrows confused.

“What?”

“Can you take the arm off?” Sera repeated. Bucky did a quick look at her but then went back at the road. People’s eyes staring at his arm wound usually make him uncomfortable or just don’t like it, but not with her. He found himself liking his arm under them.

“Yes I can.”

“And do you take if off to sleep?”

“No, I don’t.”

Sera tilted her head sideways to have a better look at it, which made Bucky let out a tiny grin. “Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“I got used to it.”

Sera nodded. “Nice.”

“And you, do you get burn when you do.... that?”

“No. I can’t get burn.” A little laugh escaped her lips after watching Bucky struggle with his words, it was clear that he never been next to someone like Sera and he didn’t know what to say about it, or even what to think in that moment that he got her full attention. And Sera noticed it.

“With any type of fire of just the one that you... do?”

“Any type of fire. Is this weird to you?”

“What? No.” Bucky shook his head after looking at Sera who was exploring every detail on Bucky’s face.

Sera shrugged her shoulder. “Seems like it.” Sera looked Bucky up and down licking her lips enjoying the feeling of having Bucky on the palm of her hand. He did seem like the tough kind of guy, maybe he was, but there was a part of him that made him the softest guy ever. And Sera wanted to see more of that guy. “Does the serum affects... you know?” Sera moved her hand over her lower stomach but Bucky looked at her confused, not understanding.

“Does it affect what?”

“You know...” She moved her hands in the same position but quicker than before.

“No I don’t know.”

“YOU KNOW-” Wanting Bucky to understand she pointed repeatedly to her crotch area while a smile appeared on her face as soon as she saw Bucky’s eyes go wide open as soon as he understood.

“Oh my, no!” He shook his head.

“Really? Have you tested it?” She moved her body to the side to be more closer to his face.

“And you care because?” Bucky let out a smile and then bit his lower lip while doing a quick look to Sera by her side.

“Always wanted to know! Common things everyone wonders.”

“I don’t think everyone wonders.”

Sera quickly nodded. “Oh, yes, everyone does.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” She let her hand hold her head to be even more to closer to him, as closer as the car was letting her. “So....? have you tested it?”

“No!”

“Then how do you know it doesn’t work!? Have you even had your first kiss since 1940?”

“I-” Bucky wanted to answer but his tongue seemed to have twisted itself. It was a reality of him not kissing anyone since he came back, it wasn’t like he had the time to hang out with someone enough for that, he had been dealing with big things since he gain his head back. And he wasn’t ashamed of it, but for some reason, admitting it to Sera didn’t sound like something he wanted to do.

“Oh, you haven’t?” She asked once she understood his silence.

Bucky let out a tiny laugh and then shook his head confused. “How did we get into this topic?”

“No judgement here! Not at all. Just wondering, you know?” Sera let out a proud smile knowing that she accomplished what she wanted and sat down normally on her seat but without breaking her sight from Bucky. He did seem to notice but he kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to talk again. “I made you smile.” She said softly.

“Annoy me. That’s what you did.”

A loud laugh escaped her mouth as she let her head rest on the back of her seat. “That’s even better.”

Bucky shook his head but he couldn’t help but let out a smile. He did a quick look at Sera and noticed that her eyes were now closed and it gave him a little wave of relaxation over his body, but when he went back to the road and noticed a group of people standing outside Sera’s apartment building, it all went back to normal.

“What’s that?” He asked as he was getting closer and the people became more clearer.

Sera quickly opened her eyes and got her face closer to the front window of the car, trying to see more if she could make a sense of the whole situation. But when the car was now a couple of feet away and the entire building was now visible, Sera’s stomach twisted as her heart started to beat faster.

“Oh my God... Angela.”

>>>

“That’s my apartment! You have to let me in!”

Sera’s loud voice could be heard from miles, even if the smoke coming out of the building and the people talking around them covered their entire surroundings. The man at the entrance had made Sera take steps back after seeing her with the intention to walk into the building with no hesitation. With a strange look, the man gently grabbed Sera by the arm and stopped her from getting sucked into the dark smoke and horribly damaging her lungs from it, but that didn’t seem to had bothered her at all. Not even a single muscle on her face let others know that she was a couple of centimetres away from a strong smoke, and that lead to some talking about Sera and her strange desire to enter the building on fire.

“Ms! That apartment is on fire! I can’t let you go inside!” The man yelled trying to keep Sera back. Noticing this, Bucky stepped towards Sera and gently grabbed her arm, preventing her from doing something bad in front of all those people.

“My friend was in there! Can you at least tell me if she’s alright?!” Sera yelled more loudly than before losing her patience, while ignoring Bucky’s hand on her arm.

“We don’t have information from anyone on the inside so please, move aside and let the men work.”

As soon as Sera heard those words she let out a word Bucky couldn’t fully understand but knew that it was a bad one for the way she said it. She stepped back while looking to her apartment and the smoke coming out of it. Biting her lower lip she looked down at Bucky and let out a tiny sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, let the men work my ass. Fuck that!”

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked as she walked passed him trying to leave him behind, but not getting an answer from her got him even more worried about her and her next mysterious actions.

She had quick feet but so did Bucky, so right behind her he followed her to a dark alley right next to her building. Even if it wasn’t far from everyone, the noise and the smoke didn’t seem to get to where Bucky and Sera found themselves to be. Until Sera quickly opened a black door and smoke immediately came out of it.

Without questioning it, Bucky followed Sera once she stepped inside the building full of smoke and hot air. It seemed like she knew where she was since she didn’t even stop to check where she had to turn or if she had to keep going. Her quick steps were becoming a little bit blind to Bucky since the smoke was starting to become thicker and bigger and deeper as they were getting into the building, but anything like that didn’t seem to bother Sera at all.

The long walk that Bucky was having with Sera in front of him didn’t seem to ever end, until the place became more brighter but more hotter as soon as the hallway turned into a room filled with firemen working to turn off the fire still growing inside.

“Ms! You shouldn’t be in here!” A fireman said as soon as he layed his eyes on her but not hearing at word he was saying, Sera walked passed him and walked through he fire that was hiding the hallway to her apartment. “How did she-” the man said turning to Bucky surprised but he just let out a tiny smile and patted his arm.

“Don’t ask questions, just keep working.” He said before nodding and following Sera, leaving the poor fireman confused at his own thoughts and what his eyes just saw.

It didn’t took Bucky long to find Sera again since he remembered the way towards her apartment. With quick steps he managed to walk by her side as she was moving the little flames out of her way without moving a finger.

“There’s no need for you to be here, Bucky. You should go.” Sera said without taking her eyes away from the way in front of her. “Go, Bucky.” She said firmly noticing that he wasn’t turning back, completely ignoring her words.

“Like I’m going to do what you say. I’m not afraid of a little fire.” He said and Sera let out a loud sigh but not a single word came out her mouth after that since the door to her apartment was now in front of her. Noticing that she didn’t have her keys or anything that could open the door for her, she was ready to step up and knock the door down. But Bucky stopped her.

“I got it.” He said but Sera just rolled her eyes and before he could move another muscle from his body, her foot was already on the door kicking it to the floor.

“I got it too.” She said before stepping inside and quickly moving her eyes side to side, trying to find something that could tell her that her friend wasn’t there.

As soon as they were both inside they both noticed that the fire definitely started there on Sera’s apartment. The flames were bigger than the ones outside and the smoke was starting to get into Bucky’s eyes, but ignoring it completely he tried to follow Sera around the apartment.

“Angela! Angela!” Sera started yelling but then suddenly stopped when something else caught her eye. Bucky followed her with his eyes as she was slowly getting closer to the table on the side of her living room. Not taking her sight from it, she moved her hand and grabbed a little piece of paper that didn’t seem to be affected by the fire around it at all.

“What does it say?” Bucky asked when he noticed her eyes transforming.

As soon as those eyes were finished reading the words on that tiny paper Bucky saw how they started to turn red like the fire living and growing surrounding them.

“Good luck on getting your friend back, dear. -J.” She said firmly and with anger on her voice. Seconds later, the note turned into flames and disappeared into the hot air. “That asshole!”

Her loud voice seemed to have shaken the entire building since Bucky felt the walls moving along side her voice. He looked around him and to the ceiling to find it becoming weaker and weaker as the seconds were passing

“We need to get out of here, Sera.” He said looking around making sure nothing was going to fall on top of Sera’s head, because she didn’t seem to care about the building falling apart on top of her.

As soon as Sera locked eyes with Bucky he felt the fire going through his veins. Those red eyes felt like they were burning every single muscle he had on his body. “She’s gone and it’s all your fault!”

“You don’t know that she’s gone!” Bucky yelled once the fire was becoming stronger around Sera. The redness on her skin looked like she had glowing sticks inside of her, slow flames were coming out her body as she was eating the fire around her while making it even more stronger, but she didn’t seem to care since her full attention was on the man there with her.

“I know is your fault!”

“Sera, calm down! We need to get out here!”

“If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be involved in this mess and Angela would’ve been safe!”

Another noise of the walls breaking and shaking next to them. It felt like the whole building was going to become apart at any second, and it was all because of Sera.

“Sera! The roof is coming apart!”

“Yes, Bucky! That’s what fire does! It breaks everything apart! Everything that comes its way it destroys it!” Each word seemed like a bomb to their surroundings. Sera was now the biggest fire in the entire building and Bucky knew that, so trying to get to her and calm her down he stepped to get closer and gently grabbed her arm ready to pull her out of there. But as soon as his hand touched her arm the burning sensation hit his skin and that made him take a step back in pain and locked eyes with her, ignoring the feeling of his hand coming apart.

“What?! Afraid of a little fire?!” Sera yelled once she noticed the surprise and shook on Bucky’s eyes.

Before Bucky could say anything else, he looked up when the noise of the ceiling coming apart every second. He could see how the material was slowly breaking and going down towards their bodies. Bucky, looking down ready bring his body next to Sera he locked eyes with her and moved his arm to the side, but like a slow motion movie, Sera let out a loud scream as the fire was coming out go her body and in the process, moving the breaking ceiling out of their way. Bucky lifted his metal arm ready to feel the burning on his skin as the fire was surrounding him, but for his surprise, he didn’t feel a thing. And that’s when he noticed, the fire was hitting everything; expect for him and Sera.

Seconds later, he stopped feeling the hot air and the sound of fire growing next to him. When Sera dropped to her knees he noticed that there was no fire around him anymore. The sound of the walls stopped and the ceiling was no longer breaking, instead, silence surrounded them for the first time in a while. Sera was now back to normal but with tears dropping down her cheeks. Bucky hesitated, but then walked closer to her and kneeled down to wrap her around his arms, making sure his metal arm wasn’t hurting her. Now there was no fire around them, no smoke, no hot air, no ceiling or walls breaking next to them. Just a broken Sera knowing that her friend was in danger and she couldn’t stop it, and Bucky knowing exactly how she felt.

>>>

“I’m sorry, Sera.” That was the only thing Bucky felt like saying when him and Sera were finally out of the building and next to their car. She was leaning over the door while looking down, it seemed like her mind was somewhere else but Bucky didn’t care, his words came out without his brain thinking them. “I truly am.” He said softly trying to get her eyes to look at him, He she wasn’t moving. Until, after a couple of seconds, she moved away from the car and from Bucky with decisive steps. “Where are you going?”

“You need to make sure Sam is fine, and I’ll go back to where Jackson used to work.” She said without stopping.

“Why?”

“Because maybe they were stupid enough to leave things behind. I’ll find something.”

“Are you sure?” He asked louder since she was further away, and noticing that he wasn’t going to get any answer, he started walking towards her. “I’m going with you.”

“No,” Sera said firmly without looking at Bucky “I’m going alone.” Feeling Bucky’s presence still next to her, she looked at him while letting out a loud sigh. “Didn’t you heard me?”

“Oh, I heard you perfectly.” Bucky nodded. “I just chose to ignore it.”

Sera stopped walking and grabbed his metal arm immediately feeling the cold hitting her skin. Being something that she wasn’t used to, she quickly let it go. “Bucky-”

“No. You’re right. You’re in the mess because Sam and I brought you into this. I wanna help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Well you’re going to get it anyway, so let’s go.” Bucky started walking but then stopped when she didn’t follow him.

“Being older than me doesn’t mean that you can order me around, you know?”

“I am 106 years old. That has to mean something.”

“Yes,” Sera moved her feet to pass Bucky “that you’re old as fuck.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes, ouch indeed.” She quickly started walking away but being as fast as her, he catched her with ease. “Bucky- go back and make sure Sam is ok.”

“He’s probably sleeping right now.”

“He needs to know what’s going on.”

“You’ll tell him when we go back to the apartment. Let’s go.”

Sera looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised. “We?”

“Yes, we. Is a pretty easy word to understand.”

Once again, Sera stopped not wanting Bucky to follow her. Copying what she was doing, he stopped in front of her and crossed his arms around his chest.

“Like I told you before, you’re not funny. And I’m not coming back with you.”

“Well, we can discuss it later because now, you” He pointed at her while his other hand took the car keys out of his back pocket and waved them in front of Sera’s face “need a ride.”

“I can fly, remember?”

“You’re going to fly all the way there? Isn’t it going to be very tiring? It’s such a waste of time.” Sera rolled her eyes while letting out a long sigh and tilting her head backwards, realising that Bucky was right. “Let’s go, Sera.” He said in a loud whisper enjoying his win.

“This is going to be the last time you’re right.” Sera said without looking at him once she started going back to the car, not wanting to see the arrogant smile on his face.

”We’ll see.”

>>>

The sound of papers flying and drawers being opened was the only thing Sera and Bucky could hear the moment they both stepped inside that red room. For their surprise, the place wasn’t empty like they imagined it, even worse, it was all burned down. Every furniture, every paper, every little wall decoration was now to laying on the groun while a little smoke were coming out of it.

“Fuck! There’s nothing here!” Sera yelled throwing the last piece of paper the last drawer had inside. She let out a long frustrated sigh while trying to look around for something she hadn’t seen before.

“They literally made sure to burn everything to the ground.” Bucky bit his lower lip doing the same as Sera, but there was nothing else there that could potentially have any information. So Sera frustrated, turned to the door and without waiting for Bucky she left the room leaving traces of smoke behind her.

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked as he was trying to catch her.

“They like to play with fire, but so do I.”

“What are going to do? There’s nowhere left for us to look.”

“I don’t know!”

“We need a plan!”

“There’s that we again.” Sera stopped angrily making Bucky face her as soon as he stopped as well. Being behind her the quick movement she made to face him ended up with him being a couple centimetres from her face, almost feeling the hot air coming out of her mouth against his skin.

“Yes, we, Sera. As much as we need you, now you need us, so we need to stay together.” Bucky was starting to get frustrated at the whole situation, his loud tone was showing it but Sera didn’t seem to care about that at all, she just shook her head annoyed at Bucky’s words.

“I don’t need anybody.” She said firmly getting closer to his face without realising. Even if the hallway they were in had nothing but the light that was coming through the front door, they could see all the details from each other’s faces. They closeness made the other feel every little air that their noses were throwing out, mixing them together every time.

“That’s what you think.”

“No, that’s what I know.”

As each word was said, their tones became more firmly than the one before. Even if they felt the anger and frustration growing inside of them, knowing that the fight wasn’t over, they both went completely silent when their eyes finally connected to each other. Even though their eyes were locked since the fight started, they weren’t paying attention to what the they were saying. As soon as she saw those dark eyes under the poor light she felt the electricity she would often have when looking at Bucky. The blood in her veins started to move faster since she felt her skin burning, but she didn’t move at all. Her feet seemed to have glued themselves to the ground not wanting to leave Bucky behind and keep staring at those blue eyes. For the first time since they met, there was no words that wanted to come out of their mouths. They were no anger or frustration inside of them, just growing sadness ready to explode.

There was no noise around them, just the sound of their breathing. It felt like they been staring at each other for too long, when Bucky felt the need to end the space between them and wrap Sera around with his arms. Looking at her eyes and seeing the sadness and pain in them made him feel like he was in front of a mirror, like he was seeing his eyes on Sera. Those mysterious eyes were showing the same things Bucky would usually see in himself a long time ago.

Before he could say anything else or even think another thought, Sera closed her eyes and tensed her jawline ready to leave the dark hallway and those ugly thoughts on her mind behind. She moved to the side and turned around to walk towards the door with decisive and quick steps. A part of Sera wanted Bucky to follow her, keep talking and go back to normal, but he didn’t. He kept still looking down trying to find the perfect words to say next.

“I used to think the same thing, Sera.” He said softly but it was enough for her to hear him. His tone made her stop what she was doing and close her eyes while letting out a long sigh. “But now I have a partner and I’m good. Better than I’ve been in a long time.” Sera didn’t expect it but those words hit her differently than anything else Bucky had ever said to her. She felt the tears fighting to come out but she tried her hardest to keep them in place, not wanting to break down in front of Bucky. “You think you don’t need anyone but in reality you do. You can’t do this alone.”

As soon as he said those words she felt the burning anger inside of her. All those people on her past telling her what to do or how to act, keeping her like their pet or even weapon on their hands, those words brought them back. She knew that Bucky wasn’t the same, and he wasn’t doing what those people did, but something inside of her clicked moving away every single feeling she was having inside of her seconds ago.

She turned around and locked eyes with Bucky who was already looking at her. “Watch me.” She said firmly and without waiting for an answer, she turned around and walked through the door.

Bucky let out an angry sigh and followed her with quick steps starting to feel the frustration even bigger inside of him. “Alright!” He yelled angrily the moment he pushed the door to walk outside. “What’s your new plan now, genius? Huh? What is your master plan now that you plan to do it alone?”

“She had a date.” Sera said without stopping while hearing Bucky’s steps right behind her. “And the date was at the same hour that the fire happened so I’m going to see if that asshole is involved.”

“How do you know? Maybe he left after she didn’t answered her phone.”

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m gonna find out. It’s weird that at the same hour she had a date the whole apartment turns into flames.”

“Yeah, it is a little weird. And what do you plan to do with that information?” Not getting an answer back from her, Bucky let out a fake laugh and started yelling his next words even more frustrated. “Do you know his name? His address? Where he used to work? Anything? Do you know anything?!”

“I don’t know, Bucky! I don’t fucking know!” Sera turned around quickly to face Bucky. “Agh!” She yelled annoyed covering her face with her hands trying to calm herself down as Bucky was getting closer to her, ending up a right in front of her face.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! Let’s do this together. You get your friend to safety and we get those assholes, we all win.”

“Why do you want me with you anyway?” She spitted out uncovering her face quickly to lock eyes with Bucky, but he didn’t answer immediately. He just stared at her while her jaw tensed and those eyes penetrating her soul like he wanted to know every little secret she was hiding.

Before Sera could feel the same electricity she felt before, Bucky took a step closer to her and added more softly than before. “Because I know what is like to care about someone and if something bad happens... it’s in you.” Those words felt deeper than Bucky intended them to. Yes, they were as true as the next words coming out from his mouth but saying it someone that he met not even a day ago wasn’t Bucky at all. Trusting a person new so fast and easy wasn’t what he was used to doing, not after him not being able to trust his own mind. But for some reason, saying those words to Sera didn’t make him uncomfortable, instead, he felt the same as he was talking to Steve. Like those old times he loves and misses so much. But this time, Sera being the one in front of him. “Working together is going to give all of us an advantage, we all have something to bring to the table and it’s going to have a better result. You want to find your friend as fast as possible, right?” Sera nodded. “Then let’s do it. I’ll go to the car, if you come that means you’re with us. If you don’t... then I won’t bother you anymore.”

As soon as Bucky left her side she knew what she wanted to do. What was the right decision, and that Bucky was right even if it felt hard to think about. She hated it, but if she wanted to find her friend safe, she needed to do it with Bucky and Sam.

“I remembered something.” She said and that made Bucky stop and let out a tiny smile as soon as he heard those words coming out of her mouth. “And it can help us get more information about the guy.”

Not hearing her walk towards the car, Bucky turned to Sera and nodded slowly. “Then let’s catch the asshole who did this, shall we?”

>>>

“Angela told me that he works at a coffee shop three blocks away from our apartment.” Sera said when she had Sam’s full attention.

They were all standing in the living room as Sam was sitting down on the couch, still trying to take it easy since the side of his stomach wasn’t fully recovered. Bucky and Sera were standing in front of him trying to catch Sam on everything that went down in a matter of hours.

“Very coincidental.” Sam said looking at Bucky which he nodded agreeing.

“Very.”

Sam turned to Sera who had her arms across her chest while her foot was going up and down repeatedly on the ground. “And you really think he’s involved?”

“I- maybe. I’m not sure.”

“Well, it’s something that we could start on.” Sera nodded and before anyone could let out another word, she turned around towards the door ready to leave the apartment behind.

“Ok, let’s go.” She said but when she noticed nobody was following her, she went back to Sam and Bucky who were staring at her confused.

“Where?” Bucky asked.

“To the coffee shop.” She answered immediately.

“Sera, is almost midnight.” Sam said pointing at the tiny window. Sera looked at it and noticed that the light of the day was long gone, but that didn’t seem to bother her at all. “The coffee shop is probably closed.”

“So?” Sera asked. “We can go and wait until it opens so we can talk to him first thing in the morning.” She opened the door but then Sam spoke again, making her turn around to face him.

“No, Sera, is better if we get some good sleep and we go tomorrow.”

Sera felt the burning sensation growing on her inside as her brian was processing Sam’s words. “Sam, Angela was taken. She could be anywhere right now. And they’re probably doing to her God knows what and you’re asking me to wait?!” Each word that was said was let out louder than the one before. The fire inside of her was growing and she knew it, but she didn’t seem to care or even stop to prevent something bad happening. Her mind was thinking about Angela and nothing else, ignoring the feeling of her hands starting to burn.

“Sera-” Sam got up from the couch to calm her down and for the looks of it, it made Bucky realize that calming her down needed to be done. Because he felt like something was coming. And he was right.

The moment that Sam got up from the couch Sera’s eyes went red like the fire itself. Her fingertips were glowing and her hair started to move like there was wind around her, even if there wasn’t. “No, I agreed to do this with you guys but that doesn’t mean we have to do everything your way-”

“It’s not my way or anyone’s way, it makes sense to wait and get some rest to be fully prepared for tomorrow.”

“I’m fully prepared now, Sam!”

“No, Sera.”

Even if Bucky wanted to intervine he was afraid that if he said something he would make it worse. By the looks of it it looked like Sera was a second away from burning the place to the ground of even burn Sam, who was closer than Bucky.

“Fine.” Sera said normally, like she didn’t feel her skin screaming fire every second that was passing. Just like she was her normal self. “Let’s go with the place Jackson told us about.”

Bucky was about to agree but then Sam spoke again, and his next words worried Bucky even more. “We’re not ready, we need backup.”

“Backup?” Sera asked with a joking tone on her voice.

“Yes. We don’t know what we’re up against and we need to make sure we have all the help we can get.” Sam’s tone made it clear that he wasn’t going to change his mind and Bucky knew that very clear. Knowing Sam he knew that he would always try to make the right decisions. And this time, it wasn’t an exception.

“He’s right, Sera.” Bucky said after Sam said those words, which made Sera even more angry than before. Clearly showing it on her red eyes and her now skin letting out some smoke. But just like before, she didn’t care.

“Of course you’re on his side! You two don’t get it, do you? My friend was just abducted by some really dangerous men that could be doing anything to her right now just to despise me!” Each word that was said was making Sera more angry and the smoke now turned into fire growing out from her skin, slightly burning the furniture on her side. “She could be dead right now and you don’t care! And if she’s not she’s probably suffering and I put her there! I made her involved even if I tried my best to keep her safe! But no! Everything that comes through my way always seems to burst out into flames!”

As soon as she finished her sentence the tiny fire from her skin turned into a circle of fire around her body. Sam and Bucky, preventing themselves from getting burned they took steps back almost falling to the ground in the process.

The fire around Sera was so strong that even Bucky felt the burning on his skin. The tiny table next to Sera was now burning and everything that was on top of it. The fire didn’t seem to be growing but it was becoming stronger and thicker around Sera. Bucky, trying to see her, opened his eyes wider and focused his sight inside the fire. Sera was covering her face with her glowing hands while her hair was lifted into the air moving uncontrollably.

Sam took some steps forward after gaining his balance back ignoring Bucky trying to stop him by grabbing his arm. “Sam! What are you doing?!” He asked but Sam completely ignored him and calmly walking towards Sera. Bucky expected Sam to move backwards painfully after arriving closer to the fire, but surprisingly for him, he didn’t. It looked like the fire wasn’t burning or hurting him. Noticing this a confused Bucky turned to Sera and saw how her red eyes were now on Sam, while tears were slowly going down her cheeks.

“Sera you need to listen to me!” Sam yelled but nothing happened. Sera looked down and covered her face once again and that’s when Bucky felt the burning on his skin become even stronger. “Sera, please. Count to three, remember? It’s me, Sam.” As soon as Sam let out his name out loud Sera quickly uncovered her face and locked eyes with Sam. Their connected eyes seemed to be talking even though they weren’t letting out any words. Seconds later, Bucky noticed how the fire was becoming smaller as the seconds were passing and the burning feeling in his skin slowly fade away. Once the fire was long gone inside of Sera, the second her body ate all the fire she quickly closed her eyes and dropped to the ground. Bucky and Sam with quick steps grabbed her and layed her on the ground, ignoring her burning skin hitting theirs. “You need to rest, Sera.” Sam said softly but Sera shook her head slowly.

“I need to find her.” She said almost out of breath and with a weak tone.

Sam nodded, while grabbing her body with he help of Bucky, who gently grabbed her waist and started walking towards their little balcony. “And you will, but one thing at a time, Sera, one thing at a time.”

>>>

As soon as Sera felt the cold wind hitting her skin, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Even if she wanted to feel some cold air inside her body, as soon as she took it in, she felt how it turned into hot and her lungs filling with it like it was used to. Annoyed, she opened her eyes and the memories of her priors actions came to her head. Like an old movie, the fire around her body and the tears coming out of her eyes were playing on her mind. Sam’s eyes on her, seeing something not for the first time and knowing what was happening, exactly like old times. But this one, had something different. Bucky was there.

A man that met her not even a day ago saw her doing one of the things that happened when she was on her lowest. Something that she didn’t know how to control and even feel coming, even if she tried for years. She felt embarrassed because they came to her for help but seemed to brought them even more trouble even if she wasn’t trying, but for some reason, it always seemed to happen to her. She was used to it, living a life like that for most of her life, but knowing that she did it with Sam... and not the first time; she felt the disappointment on herself growing inside of her each second that was passing. And she didn’t know how to stop it.

“Better?” Bucky’s voice made Sera come out of her thoughts and turn towards him, who was standing on the door with his back resting against the wall.

“Yeah,” Sera nodded and feeling the hot cup of tea touching her skin, she remembered the drink on her hands “and thanks for the tea.”

Bucky let out a tiny smile and then looked down, somehow embarrassed of him and his tea for her. “I’m glad you liked it because I didn’t know if you wanted something hot or cold after... you know.”

“Tea was fine.”

“Good.”

Sera turned to see the inside of the apartment and tilted her head sideways, feeling sorry for the plant and the table now burned. “I’m sorry for the plant... and the table.”

Bucky immediately shook his head and then shrugged his shoulders. “It’s alright, the plant was probably fake anyway. We’ll get a new one.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“Don’t worry about it, it happens.” Bucky walked closer to Sera and sat down next to her on the tiny couch. Once comfortable, he looked at Sera who had an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, burning a plan to the ground, who hasn’t done that?” For the first time after a long time, Sera let out a genuine tiny laugh. She took a sip of her tea and for her surprise, enjoyed the hot feeling of the drink going down her throat and stomach. “Sam was pretty good back there with you.” Bucky said softly once Sera locked eyes with him.

She nodded going back to her tea, staring at the liquid inside her cup move slowly. “He has seen it before. Me going all... crazy.”

“Did he?” Sera nodded. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. When I met him it was something that happened... a lot.” Bucky wondered why and the questions of her mysterious past came back to his brain. The need of asking some of them to her right on the moment was consuming him, asking himself if it was right or even if she was going to answer them in the first place, but before a word could come out of his mouth, she let out a tiny fake laugh and said: “It’s kinda funny because I get this electric feeling every time something bad is about to happen or someone is about to hurt me but... I never get it when it’s myself who’s about to turn the whole place into chaos. I have this crazy sense and still, I couldn’t protect her.”

“We’re going to find her, Sera.” Bucky said softly but Sera shook her head.

“How do you know that?”

“Because we’ll make sure to find her and keep her safe.” Even if Bucky wanted her to feel better for some strange reason, he couldn’t find the words because... she was right, there was no way he could assure Angela’s safety.

Sera stared at Bucky’s eyes and then let out a tiny nod when some old memories came back to her head. “I said those same things to myself years ago and it never went my way. It’s like everyone that gets involved with me they get hurt. No matter how much I try to keep myself out of the real world.”

“We won’t get hurt, Sera.”

Her entire past was a mystery to Bucky, but for her words he knew that he could relate to it. He could relate to the feeling of not being able to trust your own self and being scare of hurting the people around you. Not having a choice and wanting to leave the real world, Bucky lived that for years. He knew how it felt, but also he knew that it wasn’t easy to forget and heal, and there wasn’t much for him to do more than try to make things right, for him and for the people around him.

“Sam got hurt because of me. You said yourself.” Sera’s voice made Bucky come out of his thoughts and throwing everything he was thinking to the trash. The pain on her voice could be noticible for streets far away and that made Bucky feel the regret in every vein of his body.

“I didn’t- I’m sorry about that.”

“It doesn’t matter, Bucky. What matters now is finding Angela to make sure her safety, so I can move on with a different life like I always do. Away from everyone.” She got up from the couch and left the tea on the side table before locking eyes with Bucky once again. “Thanks for the tea, but I think it’s time for me to head to bed. Don’t worry, I heated it up for you.” She said with a tiny smile trying to hide the tears wanting to come out. And Bucky noticed that. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

As soon as she said those words, she started walking towards the door to walk inside the apartment. Once she left Bucky behind, the tears that were fighting to come out finally won and started to drop down on her cheeks as she was making her way towards the couch, ready to give herself up to the night.

Bucky, who just stayed put while repeating her words on and on on his mind, finally grabbed the cup of tea and felt the hotness on his hand. He let out a tiny sigh disappointed on himself for saying those words, for treating her that way and for everything that happened. Maybe feeling like they couldn’t trust their own selves wasn’t the only thing they had in common. Because Bucky also felt like the people around him always got hurt, even if he was trying to do the complete opposite.

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[sweeethinny]

The Duke - Chapter 10

A.N: OK, let's go Thank you very much to the comments, really, I know it takes time, but I'm glad you're here always waiting for a new chapter for your understanding: everything in *ITALIC* is flashback, it's a chapter basically made up of that, it explains some things it was the chapter i waited the longest to arrive, i liked it in the end, i hope you did too <3 AO3 | FF.NET | SIYE

It was a cold night, it had rained that afternoon and the sky was cloudy, it looked like it would rain later in the morning, but Arabella was happy about that, as the damp, muggy weather made her sneeze every minute and her asthma was actually getting worse. She should visit a doctor soon. She continued to walk down the empty street, the hem of her dress was getting more and more muddy, no matter how much she pulled her skirt up a little, every time she stepped into a puddle the mud splashed and it was no use effort in trying to get that dress clean. She should have picked an older one to go out with, since she knew the streets would be dreadful after all that rain, not the brand new one she'd bought after working so hard. Was it just a piece of sewn fabric, why was it so expensive? There weren't even enough details or buttons to justify it. But if Isabel was telling the truth, the fabric had come from India, and that in itself had already increased the price twice as much, and Arabella knew that the woman would not lie to her… She hoped at least. As she walked the streets of Godric's Hollow, she thought about how another lonely night would be, and that maybe tomorrow she would send a letter to her great-aunt asking if she could stay a few days at her farm, just to have the company of other people besides the two her cats; Silk and Melindra. “Help!” The scream echoed behind her, and Arabella turned, startled, to see if anyone was hurt or what might have triggered that scream. It was a female scream, and it made her think that maybe a woman could be chased by some maniac, and even though she wasn't very strong, two women fought better than just one, so she ran towards the scream, not caring more about the mud splashing on her dress. Near Ms. Bright’s shop, there was a woman lying down and bleeding, her clothes torn and a baby in her lap. She looked scared, dumped near a ditch that had been made a few days ago to start building a fashion studio around the corner, the scant dress that still covered her was smeared with what looked like blood and mud, and Arabella thought she saw blood running down her legs. Whether it was an injury or something more disturbing, she couldn't tell. The woman held the baby tightly to her chest, wrapped in an old blanket as dirty as she was, and the poor child spared no effort in crying, looking more than scared. “I'm here, what happened?” Arabella ran to her, helping the poor girl to her seat, noticing that the poor baby was also smeared with blood, but she couldn't tell whose blood it was. ‘Come, come to my house, I can help you-’ "No," she cried, brown eyes startled and wide, as if they'd seen death a few feet away. “Someone is following me, I – I'm going to be killed, I know I will, my husband is after me and – you need to get the boy.” She lifted the baby towards Arabella. 'He's trying to kill us, he thinks the child isn't his, he thinks I cheated on him, and he's coming, I-' The woman stopped, as if she'd heard something, but then thunder made the Earth shudder. ‘Please save the boy, I beg you, he already tried to kill the boy but I was always on time, but now I feel like I won't be able to save him.’ “You must come with me.” Arabella pleaded once more, kneeling in front of the woman, trying to get her to rise. When she reached for her forearm, however, her hand was wet with blood, and the tear in the side of her dress let her see a hideous cut in her ribs, the blood running like water in a waterfall, dripping onto the floor and other parts of her dress. "I told you," she muttered, sobbing. 'I'm going to die, I'm not going to make it, I can't stand walking any longer, I managed to run away from him but I can't stand it much longer… Take the boy.' The woman lifted the boy again, who now seemed to cry even more, waking a few neighborhood dogs, as the sky glowed brighter, the earth trembling a few seconds later. "Take him away, don't let him die." 'How-how am I going to leave you here, I can't-' Another thunder shook the earth, and this time, the storm began to fall stronger

than the afternoon, the winds suddenly getting strong, which seemed to scare the boy even more. ‘He will get sick! Get him, take care of him!” As if on instinct, Arabella scooped him up in her arms, wrapping him in her scarf so he was a little warmer. Footsteps were heard nearby, and the woman seemed to despair even more. 'Go! Get Harry and go!’ “What's his name?” Arabella yelled over the noise of the rain, trying to understand what she had said. ‘Henry! His name is Henry!’ ---------------------- “Poor Duchess,” someone says, but all Arabella can see is the white flag atop the castle, an immense sadness shattering her chest into a million pieces. "Who could do something that horrible?" Another says, all paying attention to the newspaper that reports how Harry Potter, the Duke's eldest son, was found dead near a creek not far away. Probably killed by Death Eaters. “They're all nasty human beings!” A man said, looking horrified by the media descriptions, then looking up at the castle again. It's not that far away, it faces the mountains that end Godric's Hollow, separating them from another village, and it's positioned in a way that's seen from anywhere, no matter where you are, you'll see the castle and the huge towers, next to the flags that stand proudly on the masts. One with the English flag, the other with the Potter family crest. But today, both give way to white flags. The boy is dead. Arabella wipes the tears from her eyes and watches little Henry sleep in her arms, oblivious to the commotion. She sympathizes with the Duchess's pain as she looks at that little baby who nearly died along with her mother - Arabella knew that the woman's body was found lifeless the next morning - and remembers the time she too felt the pain of losing a child, of losing the one she loved most to Death Eaters. She kisses the boy's forehead, the pale scar of lightning makes him unique, and Arabella lets herself cry, thinking of the Duchess herself, and how they took away her right to fondle her own son. ---------------------- Arabella did not remember seeing the Duke in public since the incident two years ago. He smiles and nods, but she notices - because she's been there once too - that he's sick, that the gold-and-red scarf around his neck seems to have a lot of fabric left over, as well as his pants. She notices the dark circles under his eyes, and the sunken cheeks, but the man still smiles and waves at people. Henry was on her lap, yesterday he turned two, and Arabella doesn't know very well when he was born, but her neighbor, who is a doctor, said he wasn't much older than four or five months, so she decided that his birthday would be the day before they met, because she thought it was too tragic to celebrate the day she found him in his mother's lap half dead, but she didn't want to stray too far from the date. The Duke smiles and nods to a little girl on his father's shoulders, he is walking through the village as he usually does, something that brings him closer to the people who live there and keeps him in power. He's a good man, after his father, the best they've ever had for sure. He stops when he gets close to Arabella, and she smiles because she used to paint the portraits of the royal family until she had a problem with her fist and was forced to quit her profession, but the man never seems to forget the time she drew him on his 17th birthday. "I'm still waiting for you to draw me and my wife." He says, as he always has since she informed him that she had unfortunately been forced to stop. The man isn't charging her though, he smiles, and watches Henry in her lap, almost sleeping on her shoulder. “It's a beautiful boy.” She thought she saw a shadow in his eyes, but it was so fast she thought it was just her imagination. 'How old is he?' "Two years," she says, and now she's sure the man looks sick, because for a second he stops and stares at Henry, as if wondering what his two-year-old son would be like. Arabella knows because she used to do this. "My condolences, my Lord." "It's okay, I’m fine," the

man says, and he winks at Henry, who hides in his mother's neck, before going off to talk to another woman. ---------------------- “Why are we different?” Henry asks, sitting on the table as Arabella tends to his scraped knee. 'We don't have the same eye color, and my hair doesn't match yours.' She knows he doesn't mean to be mean, he's just a curious and very intelligent child, that he's noticed the dissimilarities between them. She smiles, applying ointment to the wound. ‘Because you are my son at heart, and children at heart are sometimes not like their mothers at heart.’ 'What is a child at heart?' He agrees to be picked up by her, and Arabella leads them into their small living room, sitting on the sofa with Henry on her lap, looking at her with big green eyes gleaming with curiosity, black strands falling over his eyelashes. She needs to cut his hair soon. “It means that you were born from another belly, not mine.” She places a hand over her stomach. “But that's just what separates us, because my love for you surpasses any barrier.” Arabella smiles, kissing his cheek, and Henry seems satisfied with the explanation. 'I love you so much too, this size here!' He opens his arms as much as he can, and the demonstration warms her heart as always, making her smile and hug her son as tightly as she assures him that she loves him even more. | J. P | James was concentrating on the duels when Remus arrived. He was marveling at how well Mr. Figg dueled, neither shivering nor losing time when Mr. Rosier hit back one of his spells, and the man didn't even look tired. He had always found dueling an incredibly boring and dull part of parties when he was younger, accompanied by his father and seeing the men fall in a few minutes, James preferred the parties and the after, when the house was silent and dark and he could go out to meet some woman. It was at one of these parties that he met Lily, during a nighttime getaway he saw her jumping out the window. First he followed her thinking that she was also going to meet someone, and James being a curious young man that he was, he wondered what kind of man that woman liked to sneak with. Maybe he had a chance. But later, when he saw her come out of the house and run towards the lake nearby, James didn't understand. She didn't like him following her, of course, it had been a dumb idea and nowadays he was ashamed of his younger self's actions, but that's what got them talking for the first time. She smiled in embarrassment as he praised her ability to climb a vine. "James!" Remus called after him, cheeks flushed and blue eyes pained toward him. The first thing that came to his mind was that Lily was hurt, and that made him lose all interest in watching the Duel and made him turn to his friend in alarm. “What happened?” He tried to be as discreet as possible, trying to keep other men from noticing his splurge. Sirius did a good job of distracting two young men. "Lily needs you…and she asked me to take Mr. Figg too." Remus muttered the last part, making James frown and look at the boy on his left, who had finally won the duel. Rosier looked tired. 'Is it urgent.' "Is she hurt?" It was a valid concern, James feared his wife would get sicker now that she was surrounded by people, and maybe someone had said something to her and Lily had one of her fits again. ‘And why does she want the boy? Should I tell Arthur? ‘No, don't say anything to anyone, just come… We're in the dungeons.’ ---------------------- Henry did not know how to control his magic, and that distressed Arabella. If he was a Muggle it would be so much easier, she knew that, because when Henry made that poor boy float, and then made a flower vase explode, she knew she would have to explain a lot to him: Why couldn't he go to a proper college and why she didn't do magic like he did. Arabella no longer felt ashamed of being a Squib, she had accepted the condition and lived normally, or at least as she managed to, avoiding whenever anyone asked about it just to avoid people's prejudice. Some thought she was a

Muggle who had married a wizard, and that's why she knew so much about it. Others thought that she just hadn't had a chance to go to school, and that's why she didn't know how to properly control magic. "They made fun of me!" Henry said, annoyed, his eyes red from crying. “They said things—horrible things to me!” He sobbed, which made Arabella even sadder and more worried. His green eyes glistened with tears, staring at her for answers. "They told me I-I'll never be good at-at anything." He sobbed louder and louder, the scraped knee now forgotten, as if the internal pain was much bigger. She was about to cry with him. “Henry, honey, listen to me.” She took a deep breath, thinking that conversation had come earlier than she'd planned. ‘What they said is a lie. They don't know how to control their magic either, they probably won't for a good few years, and you're already good at a lot of things, of course you are, Henry. You're much better at putting together puzzles, and you're much faster too, I mean, you always win at the races.' Arabella smiled sweetly, smoothing his messy hair, thinking how unfair it was that such a sweet little boy already got to know this side of life. She wished she could just show the good side of life, and leave the thorns and stones for when he understood things better. Arabella wondered how her mother managed to do this so masterfully, because right now, she wanted to be able to hex the parents of those boys and force them to teach their children more respect for others. She wished it had been her who had been pushed and thrown out of the game, not her child. Her heart broke even more, feeling helpless. ‘Don't listen to what they say, ok? You're amazing, a very smart kid, and your future will be bright.” She promised, because it was true. Arabella would do anything for her son. ---------------------- Henry ran as fast as he could, passing through the trees and not even bothering with the branches that scratched his skin, he just needed to get out of there. He knew he shouldn't have pissed off those boys, but they were scaring another younger boy, and just because they'd now gone to that stupid school of stupid people, they thought they were even better than the rest of the people there. Henry wished he could go to Hogwarts, but his mother had told him that you needed to receive a letter, and that they were only sent for a few families - maybe if you're lucky you get the letter, she said smiling, even though the smile didn't reach her eyes. Arabella had never said this, but Henry knew he would probably never get the letter; he wasn't rich and he didn't have a father, and for some reason, that seemed to be enough to keep him away from others. He ran even faster when he heard loud laughter, he wasn't afraid of those kids anymore, Henry had grown up while they were in school, more than they were, but they had one advantage: magic. Arabella couldn't buy a wand, so he didn't have one, and even if he did, he wouldn't know how to use it. “You're a wimpy coward if your only way to fight is with magic…don't you know how to punch?” Henry had said to Jilian, the biggest idiot of them all. Henry wasn't very good at punching, but he was very fast, while when Greg tried to cast a spell on him, he ran off into the forest, barely noticing when his own magic created a dome around him, preventing any spells from hitting him. . ---------------------- “Why are we so different?” Henry asked, taking a seat beside Arabella as she kneaded the bread on the table. She looked at him, noticing that the boy was all sweaty and looking a little smudged with dirt. “How many times have I told you not to go into the woods?” She returned her gaze to the dough, continuing to knead. "It's quieter there." He shrugged, pulling his sweaty hair off his forehead, letting his scar show for a few seconds before hiding it again. “And more dangerous too, and you know it.” Arabella raised her eyebrows, scolding him. She'd heard horrible stories of people meeting a werewolf deep in the woods, and as much as she didn't

know whether or not it was true, she didn't want Henry to take any chances like that. He was only 13 years old, he should have been playing with the other kids on the street and not running into the trees. "Okay, I won't do it anymore." He sighed, but she knew he would break that promise the next time he had the opportunity. ‘But then? Why aren't we alike?’ "Henry, because you were born from another belly. I already said that" She placed the buns in the oven, washing her hands afterwards and looking up at him with a gentle smile on her face. "I met you when you were very young, you know this story." "But why can I make things float and you can't?" His green eyes stared at her with an expression much harder and more serious than she was used to, as if he would know if she lied. ‘Because not all of us are born doing magic. Some of us are good at something other than magic… It's something you need to be born knowing how to do, you can't develop it, just improve it.” Arabella swallowed, trying not to show so much the scars that had left on her. People weren't kind when they found out you were a Squib. He was quiet for a few minutes, looking at his hands as if he wanted to find the right words. The sun streaming through the kitchen windows illuminated his black hair, a few strands reflecting an almost red copper color that Arabella thought was beautiful. 'Can you never do magic?' He looked at her, and all the worry she'd ever felt, scared that maybe Henry would feel sorry for her or ashamed of her, drained and slipped out as his green eyes stared at her, full of affection and sadness. Not the same sadness that always came with grief, but as if he felt bad that he did magic and she didn't, as if he understood now why some people offended her and treated her differently. "No." She gave a half smile. "But I'm not sad about it anymore, I like who I am." And it was true. Henry nodded, still being silent for a while, seeming to absorb the information, then he got up from the wooden bench, walking over to her and hugging her. He was no longer her little boy—as much as he always would be her baby—Henry now almost reached her chest, and it wouldn't be long before he was taller than her. She hugged him back, enjoying this show of affection, imagining that a few years from now he wouldn't like hugs so much. "I love you," he said. ‘I love you very much too. Forever and ever.” Arabella kissed the top of his head, tightening her hold even more, as if she was afraid someone would suddenly take him away from her. ---------------------- It had been a long time since James had been in the dungeons, he didn't like going there, it was cold, wet, lonely, and it made him think too much. It made him think his son's things were there, in boxes organized as if they were just another mess and not everything he and Lily had ever dreamed of. It made him think of the pain that resided in his chest, the emptiness that nothing in the world had ever been able to fill. James hated the dungeons. Lily, unlike him, loved being there, she said it was the best place for her to think, and the calmest of all - 'It's where I feel that no one will look at me with pity, where I can think of my son in peace, you know what I'm talking about," she said when James questioned her about the surroundings. He knew, he understood her, James had changed into Prongs many more times than necessary, he did it every time the pain got too much to take. He walked down the stairs, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine, couldn't anyone make this place something less scary? After Remus left, James warned Sirius, who tried to pretend as best he could and further entertain the men who now looked curious to death, while he went to talk to Mr. Figg. "I need you to accompany me, but I need you to do this cautiously and discreetly," James asked, looking into those green eyes closely, trying to remember where he knew that expression. "I'll go ahead, meet me in five minutes at the entrance to the stone path, do you know where it is?" The man nodded, tucking

his wand into the waistband of his pants and straightening his robes. 'I'll let Arthur know I'll take you, just so he won't be worried, but I think you understand that you shouldn't say anything to anyone, right?' "Yes, my Lord." The man made a brief, discreet bow, and James grimaced, not understanding why that made him uncomfortable. Now James heard footsteps behind him as he walked through the dungeon, neither of them saying anything. Why had Lily asked Mr. Figg to come along? Had she found out something about the boy? Something bad? James glanced quickly over his shoulder, noticing that the man looked warmed too, his hands behind him and his back straight. Has something happened to Miss Weasley? Well, if so, Arthur would be called too, right? James broke off as soon as he reached the last room, the one he avoided the most, and the only one with lighted candles. The first thing he saw when he entered were the boxes, stacked against a wall, then he realized there were some of Harry's things on the floor, smeared with dirt and sticks, and James' heart missed a beat when he saw the Snitch Pajamas The gold one he'd bought when he found out Lily was pregnant was now all filthy and torn. Had they been attacked? Was that why Lily sent for him? Then he saw Remus, opening Lily's herb cabinet and looking for something inside, he looked worried. In the back, near the only window there, was Peter, all smeared with mud too, sitting on the floor with his hands behind his back, his red cheeks making him look like a child caught doing something wrong, and his rumpled clothes hinting that he had fought someone. Finally, sitting on the bench was Lily. Her dress was dirty too, but that wasn't what James first noticed, it was her red face, her pink cheeks like when she drank wine, her hands shaking as she poured something into the cauldron, looking more nervous than ever. "What's going on?" James glanced at the three of them, feeling even more anxious. "Lily, what the fuck is going on?" "Did you bring Henry?" James frowned at her calling the man by his first name, but nodded anyway, Peter sighed in the corner, looking almost terrified, not making eye contact with James for a moment. ‘Great, send him in.’ ---------------------- Henry knew he shouldn't be there, his mother had forbidden him, but he had nowhere else to go. Jilian had come back from his stupid school and he seemed more than happy to train some spells on Henry, and even though he had honed his punching technique, he couldn't compete with magic. So he ran into the forest. It was cold there, it had rained last night and the earth had turned to mud, and because of the tall trees the sun's rays didn't penetrate as much, and the whole environment ended up getting wetter than usual. Henry shivered as the wind made him wonder why he hadn't grabbed a jacket. He was sitting on the usual rock, it was close to the river that separated them from the Muggles, and it gave him a good view across the village. There were houses like the ones on this side, but they always looked a lot less colorful than the ones he was used to, and there weren't as many flowers and trees either, as if the Muggles were willing to clear every bit of land they found, leaving everything gray and monotonous. Henry had asked his mother if they could go to that side of the village, but Arabella had been stern to say he was forbidden to even think about going to the Muggles. He chuckled softly, thinking that if it hadn't been for the river that separated them, he probably would have managed to at least get there, curious as always. A noise startled him, making him jump and hide behind the rock, praying it wasn't one of Jilian's friends, as he would be at such a disadvantage. There wasn't much to run now, Henry had almost reached the end of the forest, and unless he took a chance and ran towards the darkest and scariest part, the other option was to jump into the river. And he wasn't doing any of those things. But when he didn't hear voices or anything to indicate they were people, he stood up,

watching a deer walking around, distracted by everything, as if nothing else mattered. Henry had never seen one this close, and he was a little fascinated by the animal, he understood why there are two deer on the Potter family crest. It really was a beautiful animal, and if he could choose, he would also want them emblazoned on his chest. Henry stepped out from behind the rock, careful not to startle the animal, trying to get as close as he could. “Hey,” he called, even though it didn't make much sense. The animal turned, eyes huge now in his direction. It had been a bad idea, he cursed himself mentally, imagining that that animal was too big and would probably kill him without a second thought… Did deer eat human flesh? Henry didn't know, but they probably hurt anyone who scared them and made them feel in danger. The animal approached, slowly, and each step made the boy's stomach turn and his heart race. Deer were fast, much faster than Henry was. He was dead. But when the animal's black eyes got much closer than Henry had ever thought he saw, the animal bowed, as if saying hello to him. Without thinking twice, he did the same, maintaining eye contact with the deer. Heavens, couldn't he be less weird? Bending over to deer, blowing things up without meaning to... Henry stood up after a while, being careful to do this as slowly as possible, still afraid the deer would decide to kill him then and there. But the animal seemed to have other plans, because he lay down in front of the boy, as if he were an adorable little dog. Henry sat beside him too, having no choice; he didn't have many friends, and he had nothing else to do, so why not? His ass got a little wet from the dirt, but nothing too uncomfortable. The deer shifted and brought its head closer to Henry's crossed leg, as if asking for affection, and the boy didn't wait for another move to do so, leaning his back against the stone and reaching out to stroke the slightly coarse fur of the animal For some strange reason, Henry felt comfortable doing it, as if he had done it before, it was something familiar that burned in his chest. But he didn't think about it much, just fell silent and watched the forest in front of him. ---------------------- "Lily, what's going on?" James asked, feeling uneasy as he watched the tension surround the room, Remus looked nervous and Peter avoided looking up, as if he was suddenly afraid to face one of them. Lily turned to James, her green eyes seemed to glow with hatred, her nostrils swollen, an expression he'd seen a few times over the years, but one that always scared him. "What... What happened?" Her shaky voice made him look at Remus again, the worry growing by the second. "Oh James." She shook her head, as if suddenly too much pain hit her, and he ran to her protection, opening his arms to hold her and protect her from anything that had happened while he was gone. "Guys, anyone…?" He glanced at his friends, but again, Peter didn't look at him. "Tell him, Peter!" Lily yelled, breaking out of James' embrace and turning to the man sitting on the floor, pointing her wand in his direction. ‘Lily, what the hell!?’ "No, James," She held up a hand, silencing him. "Tell Peter, tell him what you did to our son." His world stopped, his eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets as James stared at his friend, begging for all that was most sacred that he hadn't quite understood. Peter was his brother, his best friend, they met when they went to Hogwarts together, he was there when James needed it most, when they decided to become Animagus… Peter wouldn't do that, he couldn't! James doubted that one day the pain of losing a child would be replaced by another, that hellish emptiness that tore at him more and more inside, that made him not sleep well on rainy nights, that still made him walk into the boy's immaculate room and sit on the floor wondering what he should have done differently. He would do anything to get his son back, his boy. But the pain that hit him when Peter shook his head and lowered his head, making him

realize his hands were tied behind his body, came very close. His best friend… betrayed him? "Peter?" James pleaded, begged, for it to be a lie, for Lily to be mad. It was a lie! It had to be. "I had to, James... I... he made me." ---------------------- The weather was not so good, Peter realized when he Apparated, the sky was dark and windy like never before. He should have worn another cloak, this one was too thin and made him cold. And other gloves too, because now these were bloody and torn. Who knew a woman could be so strong? Peter dragged the woman's passed out body with him, feeling a little sickened by that when he realized her wound was getting worse with each passing minute, he needed to be quick. Leaving the body where no one could find it, he pulled a strand of her hair into the potion and then took it, the horrible taste of iron made him want to spit it out on the floor, but now there was no turning back, he would have to swallow and continue with the plan. Lord Voldemort had promised him a great reward in exchange for the boy's life, and for the first time in a long time, Peter felt important and wanted. It wasn't that Black boy who was chosen, or even Snape, no no, he was the one Voldemort thought capable of completing the mission, he thought he was strong enough. How long has it been since? He only stayed inside the Order because James kept him there, no one really wanted him there, not even Dumbledore, Peter didn't need him to say it to know, it was visible to everyone. For the old man, any other man could do the job better than he… Probably if Lily were there too, she would be chosen before Peter. Potter this, Black that, Peter was tired. Why didn't anyone realize he was also strong and smart? Well, now that was over, Voldemort had seen his potential and chosen him to do this mission, and Peter wasn't going to fail now. When he was fully transformed into that whore, he apparated into the castle, glad the potion didn't stop him from doing so. Stupid James should have put in better security than a simple spell. Peter had seen James that afternoon, he said that today was Harry's first night trying to sleep alone and that he and Lily were excited to see how he would react to the change, so the plan would be even easier to execute. As excited as Peter was at the idea of ​​being useful to someone, he knew he couldn't kill James, he had to really want to do it with all his heart. When he reached the boy's room, Peter looked around, noting the choice of bright, cheerful colors, the many teddy bears scattered around, the photos on the walls and in the frames above the dresser. Little Harry slept peacefully in his bed, wrapped in the pale blue blanket, looking peaceful, cuddled up with his deer teddy bear. He was a lot like James, Peter thought, watching the boy move his short legs like he was kicking something in the dream. He hadn't really thought about that part of the plan, he figured he'd have the guts to just take the boy and end his life right there, or in some alley farther along, but when Peter picked him up, being careful not to waking him up, that lavender scent invaded his nostrils and he watched the baby more closely. The boy looked helpless in his arms, like he wasn't even real, and if he wasn't watching the boy's belly rise and fall, Peter would think he was a doll. Voldemort would never know if he had killed the boy or not, and pausing to analyze the situation now, Peter also didn't know if he could kill the boy. He wanted to show that he was strong and useful, but a baby? Harry looked so…small. When he stirred, startling Peter, and seemed to be looking for something - maybe his mother's scent - he realized it was time to act, there was no turning back, it had to be now. And when lightning flashed in the sky, he cast a spell to prevent Harry from listening when he broke the glass to fake an escape, Peter waited for thunder to do so and then Apparated out of the castle, knowing that this was the best thing to do. There were two paths now, and he needed to think quickly

which was better, kill Harry and throw him in some hole, or give the boy to someone else. Of course he would risk this person recognizing the baby, but he would have to bet his luck on finding another baby like this for Lily and James to bury, or maybe even run to the Muggle village and find some woman there. It had to be fast, Harry would wake up any second and Peter didn't have much time after that. As soon as he spotted a woman a few blocks away and Harry opened his eyes in his arms, Peter acted without thinking, taking the knife from his pants pocket and opening a wound in his ribs, before starting to scream for help. ---------------------- James clapped his hand over his mouth, denying it over and over, not believing what he was hearing. No no no no. This had to be a lie, this had to be a lie. Peter would never do that, Peter was his brother, he would never… No, this could only be a joke. He could barely handle the pain right now, thinking he'd rather die than have to deal with it. It hurt so much that James thought he might start bleeding at any moment, his chest lacerated after hearing about it. He couldn't even feel angry. His boy, his little boy, whom he'd loved so much ever since Lily told him she was pregnant, that it made him want to scream from the top of the roof in so much joy… “I could kill you right now,” he said, after what seemed like an eternity, barely able to face the traitor. "But…" James shook his head, closing his eyes to try to make it hurt a little less, his father's voice resonating through his mind; "You must be careful with Peter," he said before he died. "Men like him are easily attracted to the side that shines the most." James had thought his father was delusional when he said that, thought it was the fever, but no, the bastard really was a weakling and a coward. Letting himself be attracted to those he once hated. If he really hated it. "I can't even look at you." James turned to Lily, who looked distraught to death at having to hear that story. He wanted to kill Peter even more for making her suffer like that. The traitor had been there the next day, helping with the searches, he had hugged Lily when she cried, told her everything would be fine. "James, give me your hand," asked Lily, her own trembling, reaching out towards him. 'Why?' "Lils…he could be lying—" She shook her head, telling Remus to shut up. "Give me your hand James." Now her voice was stronger, more determined, and her green eyes sparkled even more. He did so, letting her grab his palm and run the tip of the knife, causing the blood to drip and smear her workbench and floor, before finally dripping into the cauldron. “Lily, what are you doing?” But she didn't answer him, cutting her own palm and spilling her blood along with his, then looking over her husband's shoulder. She looked more nervous than ever, and her severed hand shook even more as she held it out to the man behind James. "Give me your hand, Henry." Her green eyes sparkled with tears, and James didn't know if the man did as she asked just because she was a Duchess, or because she was crying. "Yes, ma'am." He walked over and let her do the same thing with his palm, passing the tip of the knife and then letting the blood spill into the cauldron. The potion began to bubble fiercely, as did James' chest when he realized what Lily was up to. He had seen her make this potion a few times, and if his thinking was correct, then maybe he could vomit right there, his stomach churning and making him feel weak. James didn't want to get his hopes up, it only served to hurt when unrequited, but he was unable to hold back the urge and looked at the man behind him, and then at Peter, who now looked even more guilty, if that was possible. If this was another one of his jobs with Voldemort, James knew he would kill him right there, with his bare hands. Forget magic and wands, he would tear that mouse apart like a hungry lion. James turned to the cauldron again when Lily sobbed and he smelled the lavender scent all over the room, and the once gray

potion was now a pinkish hue, the three drops of blood seemed to dance in the middle of the liquid, before of finally meeting at the end, getting connected. "Harry." Lily turned to the man, but James remained frozen, watching the cauldron in front of him. They had never reached this result, usually the potion would explode or nothing happened, and the smell was never that sweet aroma that seemed to fill all the hollows in his chest, as if he suddenly felt no more pain. As he turned back, as Lily advanced towards the boy, James thought that maybe nothing would ever compare to this. "Harry," Lily repeated, but this time she touched him, and as if the boy felt it too, he lowered his green eyes to her. James remembered then where he knew that look… It was Lily's eyes. Her trembling hand went to his forehead, lifting the hair lying there, just to let them see the lightning scar marked into his skin. It was too much to handle, James didn't know how he was still standing, but suddenly he started to feel tears rolling down his cheeks and as if this was the last drop of water to overflow the bucket, he sobbed. He inched closer to Lily, wanting to take a closer look at his son, as if he was afraid this was a dream and soon he would no longer have the chance to memorize every detail of it. His boy… "You-" Harry trailed off, as if he was feeling like James and Lily, his chest filling up and all that emptiness seeming to finally heal. "My parents?" He looked at James, and it was as if time had never passed. He still had the same expression as that little baby James used to cuddle up to sleep on. "I knew I knew you from somewhere," James managed to say, his throat seeming to scratch with the effort it took. "I would never be able to forget…" He didn't mind the tears rolling down his face, but he tried to wipe the ones down Harry's face. "I would never be able to forget my son."

[creativenostalgiastuff]

Fealty

Summary: Virgil wants to ask Roman to the prom. And sometimes things don’t quite go according to plan. HumanAU. Hurt/comfort. So much fluff with a dash of angst

Warnings: prom, anxiety, outting, homophobia, manipulation, self doubt, Janus as a villain, fighting, self deprecation

Word Count: 8k

AN: Oh my god. I love this story more than you can imagine. But it's also my longest one chapter thing ever . To help make it a little more digestible, it's broken into 3 parts. And you can read it along with the others in this… I guess AU or alone. Here is the link to the first in that sequence.

Before you ask, yes JD is Janus. To be fair, I started this before the last video came out. That being said, I will spoil it and let you know that Janus/JD is the bad guy in this. And I stand by that. I don’t think he always is (read my story Ally if you need an example where I don’t make him the bad guy). But he is here, so please just be mindful of that. 

Shout Out to @today-only-happens-once for all of her help with this fic. Also to @meowthefluffy and the one anon for their help with some prom culture questions I had! 

-1 month away-

“Patton, step to the left…. No, your other left,” Logan calls from the lighting platform to Patton who is standing on stage.

Virgil sits  on the lighting platform, in the back of the high school theater next to Logan. He sits on his leg while holding his other knee, biting at a hangnail as he watches a few lights change colors corresponding to the commands Logan is typing. The backdrop, once white, is now a wash of deep purple, accented by the heavy red lights hitting further up on the stage. He analyzes it silently as he tilts his head to the side. The way the lights are hitting Patton looks a bit better now that the purple downstage has been lifted and the red isn’t quite as intense. The stage now looks dramatic, yet keeps the softness Virgil is looking for.

“There. Is that better?” Logan asks. 

No, it looks dumb, thinks Virgil. I’ll look dumb. This whole thing is dumb!

Virgil leans back in his chair, nodding. “It’ll work.”

“Thank you, Patton,” calls Logan. “You can get down now.”

“Okay,” Patton says as he gives a little salute before walking to the stairs leading down from the stage. 

Virgil runs his hands over his pants, trying to dry them off. This is such a dumb idea. Why would Roman ever want to go to prom with an anxious mess?

“Relax,” suggests Logan. “He’s going to love it.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “What do you mean? I am relaxed.”

“Virgil,” Patton says in a warning voice as he climbs the ladder, peering up on the lighting platform. 

“I know, I know,” Virgil allows as he makes an effort to uncurl himself a bit from his chair, running a hand through his purple bangs. “It's just… what if I mess this up?”

Logan types a few more commands into the ancient computer before sliding his chair back a little from the desk. “You won’t.”

“But this is Roman we’re talking about,” Virgil argues, noticing how dry his mouth feels. “Roman Prince. You know he’s been dreaming about a ‘promposal’ since he could practically walk!”

“That’s a gross exaggeration. They didn’t really get popular until…”

“What if it's not what he wants?” Virgil asks, flipping his hood up and stuffing his hands in his hoodie’s pocket.  “What if I say the wrong thing? This moment matters to him, ya know? He wants an over the top, profession of love shouted from rooftops.”

Logan sighs. “He wants you, Virgil.”

Is that what Roman wants? He would be happier with someone that was more comfortable with open flirting and expressions of romance. Why does he put up with me?

“Well… he deserves more than me,” Virgil mutters to himself as he stands, pushing in his chair. 

Patton interrupts sternly, “Now, none of that. You two are great together. Just, breathe. Trust yourself. He’s going to love it.”

“You sure?” Virgil asks, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder. He walks over to Patton, who moves over, and climbs down the ladder and onto the floor. 

“Completely,” Logan confirms as he climbs down too. “Would it help if we run through your checklist one more time?”

Virgil nods, not trusting his voice. Patton comes next to him, taking his hand and looking at him with big eyes full of hope and encouragement. 

“Okay, Ms. Martin is here to supervise?” Logan asks, pulling out his phone and the checklist he had made with Virgil when they were planning this. 

What if she thinks this is a dumb idea? Is she listening to us? What if I say something horrible? Will she laugh at me?

“Yeah,” Virgil mutters, shuffling his feet, “In the soundbooth.”

“Good,” nods Logan as he checks it off. “Are the lights set the way you want them?”

Oh god what if Roman thought the lights were dumb? Who decides to go for dramatic AND soft? Isn’t that an oxymoron?

“Yep.”

“Great. Notecards?”

What kind of dork needs notecards to ask their boyfriend to prom? Like, what a special kind of stupid, right?

Virgil reaches into his pocket and pulls out the five notecards he made earlier with Patton, and pulls them out. “Check.” 

“Calculator that Roman conveniently left behind that I am texting him to return?”

“Uh…” Virgil stutters. He doesn’t have the calculator. Roman’s parents will murder him if he looses it again. It costs over a hundred dollars and he had lost three already this year. What if they ground him?

“Oh, I have that!” Patton jumps as he reaches into his backpack, pulling out the bright pink calculator and handing it to Virgil. “We got your back, Virgil.”

“All that’s left is for us to send the text,” Logan smiles as he slides his phone into his pocket. “Are you ready?”

Virgil swallows the lump in his throat. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good, because I already sent it,” Logan answers. “We’ll get out of your hair.”

“We’re rooting for you.” Patton smiles as he takes Logan’s hand.

Virgil can practically feel his heart in his throat as he watches Patton leading them out. “Thanks, guys.”

Logan looks back for just a second and Virgil gives what he hopes is a small smile of reassurance. Logan nods in acknowledgement before allowing Patton to pull him down the hall. 

Virgil slings the backpack into a seat and goes to sit on the edge of the stage to wait for Roman. He could do this. It was just Roman, right?

He leans back, laying down on the stage spread eagle, looking up at the lights above. He feels  like invisible strings are wrapped around him in a vice grip. Virgil takes three deep breaths, focusing from his stomach like the school counselor had taught him. He was going to ask Roman Prince out to their senior prom and it would all be okay. He would go through the little speech he had outlined with Logan’s help. Worst case, Roman would turn him down and he wouldn’t have to go to a dance he didn’t especially care about anyway. Best case, he would pull off a miracle and sweep Roman off of his feet. Either would be okay. Roman would be happy either going to prom with him, or he would go with someone else and have an even better time, right?

Virgil closes his eyes at the ache in his chest that thought causes, moving one hand over the pain. Of course he wants to be the one to take Roman. Of course the only acceptable option is success. He had observed Roman for so long, resigning himself to watching his Prince thrive in the spotlight while he waited in the wings. There was no way Virgil could stand someone else taking his place. This was a dumb idea. 

He pulls out the notecards from his pocket and flips through them, reading them through for about the thousandth time that day. Logan had insisted that notecards would help alleviate the stress of remembering what to say. Patton had then added his own touches with stickers and doodles along the edges to get Virgil to relax. Neither the notecards nor the pictures were being very helpful at the moment, Virgil notes as he realizes his hands are shaking holding them. 

The door to the theater opens, causing Vigril to jump up, the note cards falling as he sits upright. He blinks into the darkness of the theater and feels his breath catch as his eyes find Roman coming up the aisle, out of breath.

“Hey, Virge! Have you seen Logan? He sent me a text that he had the calculator I left in math. If I come home without it again my sister is going to gay-up murder me.”

Virgil reaches into his pocket and slides the calculator towards the edge of the stage where Roman now stands. “Yeah, here.”

“Awesome, thanks,” smiles Roman. He looks around the stage. “What were you guys setting lights for? Looks amazing.”

“Think so?” Virgil asks, suddenly very aware of how sweaty his hands are. He pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them, discreetly trying to dry them on his black denim pants. 

“Uh, yeah,” Roman answers, flashing Virgil a smile that could light up the whole stage itself. “There’s a duality that exists in it I can really get behind.”

Virgil feels ones of the invisible strings around him loosen, relaxing that Roman likes the lighting. Now for the hard part: words. 

Virgil swallows a couple of times, his tongue feeling thick. This was not a time to stop knowing how to speak. A new panic started to fill Virgil: what if I physically can’t do this?

“Hey,” Roman asks gently, “You okay?”

Virgil looks around himself and sees the cards scattered on the floor. He gets on his hands and knees, trying to scoop them up with his shaking hands, but they’re all out of order and sticking to the floor. 

This is not how this was supposed to go. I have totally messed this all up. Roman will never forgive me for not doing this right. 

Before he knows it Roman is kneeling on the stage next to him.  “Whoah, hey,” he softly calls, slowly placing a hand on Virgil’s. “I’m here. What do you need?”

Great, now I’ve upset him.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil gets out, his voice tight as he keeps his eyes trained  on the ground in front of him. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Roman states calmly. “What do you need?”

To not be wasting your time in a relationship. To be so heavily sedated that I forget this is happening. To not be such a wimp when it comes to asking you on a date. 

“I need to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This,” Virgil answers as he gestures to the cards on the floor, still not looking at Roman. 

“Oh, okay?” Roman hesitantly replies. “You’re being kind of vague.”

“Sorry,” Virgil sighs, hanging his head, trying to loosen the panic. “I’ve totally messed this up.”

There's a beat of silence before Roman picks up the nearest notecard, causing Virgil’s eyes to snap to him. He reaches for it, but Roman turns just slightly out of reach. He looks it over and reads it aloud, “I promise that I will always be there for you, never hurt you, and will defend your honor.”

Virgil freezes as he watches Roman’s reaction. There’s a moment of puzzlement behind his eyes as he mouths out the wording again before they seem to spark with realization. “I believe that is a pledge of fealty, my Dark and Stormy Knight.”

Virgil sits back at the positive response and recognition, his chest loosening at the positive reaction. “Seemed fitting for a Prince.”

“What are you trying to do, Virgil?”

“A-ask you to prom?” Virgil answers, looking away from Roman. “But it’s, it’s not going so well. I really messed up.”

“Oh Virgil.” Roman scoots closer and places a hand on Virgil’s. “Darling, you could never mess that up.”

“But you need a big promposal,” Virgil sighs. “And I can’t…”

“I don’t care about a big promposal,” Roman interrupts, gently placing his forehead against Virgil’s. 

“What?”

“I… I mean, they’re very nice. But I don’t want a big moment if it means nothing. There’s something romantic in a certain level of intimacy, right?” asks Roman. 

Virgil laughs a little in relief. “Just when I start to think I have you figured out, you do something completely unexpected.” 

Roman tilts his head just enough to kiss Virgil, soft and gentle. Virgil feels his whole body relax at the moment, silencing the repeating worry that he was used to. Before he knows it, he grabs Roman’s shirt, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. There’s a cough from the sound booth, causing the two to pull away just a little. 

“Sorry Ms. Martin,” Virgil calls with a laugh as Roman turns and waves at their chaperone. 

Roman stands up and offers Virgil a hand, pulling him upright. “I would love to go to prom with you, Virgil,” Roman says, pushing Virgil’s bangs out of his eyes. “No big scary shows of adoration required.”

Virgil smiles as the relief settles and he looks at Roman. “Cool.”

“Come on.” Roman takes Virgil’s hand. “A little bird told me that Patton was going to ask Logan to prom today and I’m dying to know how it went. It's about time they acknowledge their mutual pining.”

“Okay,” agrees Virgil, allowing himself to be led down the stairs to the theater.

Less than 1 week-

It's the week of prom. Senior prom season always caused a little bit of an undercurrent of excitement that permeated the atmosphere. Virgil sits in his study hall, hood flipped up trying to focus on completing a study guide for economics. However, all of the students in the room are buzzing around, whispering to one another and on their phones, showing one another everything from prom dresses to campaigns for prom court. Virgil rolls his eyes again as another girl asks their friend “why isn’t Roman running?” 

Roman had decided that he didn’t want to run for court. His grades weren’t great right now and he had many college music and theater auditions happening at the moment. The group of friends had debated the idea into the ground, ultimately with Roman agreeing that his priorities right now were not prom focused. Virgil, of course, had agreed to support Roman in whatever manner was necessary. But still, the student body was shocked. 

“Did you hear what happened at the bell with Prince?” another girl asks. Virgil stops writing, suddenly interested in the conversation. Without moving his head, Virgil looks up in the direction of the girls who had pulled their desks into a circle. 

“No, what happened?”

“Check Claire’s Snapstory,” the first girl says. “She got some of it on camera before a teacher got in her way.”

Virgil pauses for a moment before he feels his phone vibrate in his hoodie pocket. He pulls it out and sees the banner “Text: Patton” he opens it up and reads the text.

“Something happened with Logan, Roman, and JD. Don’t know what, they sent me out of the office, but security was with them.”

Virgil feels his stomach drop. JD, Virgil’s cousin, never meant anything good. And security only meant trouble. 

He wasn’t aware of when he stood up, but he finds himself walking towards the sign out sheet, stuffing his belongings in his backpack. As a senior, he could technically go home now if he wanted to, so he marks the signout sheet as such. 

Virgil walks deliberately as his brain swims at the information provided. There was a video, two friends, one enemy (if Virgil had one of those), and security. He needs answers. He needs to know that his friends are okay. And even if he were to text them, he wouldn’t believe it until he saw them with his own two eyes. 

He turns the corner towards the office when he stops suddenly. He pulls back instinctively as his eyes follow JD and his aunt, JD’s mother. JD has his head down, holding his wrist with the opposite hand. His mother walks in front, her designer bag over her arm as she types a text on her phone, her heels clicking with each step. “Come along, Janus, darling. We have to go to the store to replace that phone before it hits rush hour.”

JD looks up, sweeping the area around him. His eyes land on Virgil, causing something to spark behind them that Virgil can’t place. The emo holds his gaze, refusing to back down and show unease at his cousin. He takes a step forward and JD speeds up, walking next to his mother now. Virgil inwardly takes pride in the reaction. JD wasn’t afraid of much, so he’ll take the victory where he can. 

As soon as his aunt and cousin are out of the main door, Logan emerges from the office. Virgil runs over to him, noticing the glasses missing from Logan’s face. 

“Hey,” Virgil greets as his eyes scan his friend over. Logan looks tired, his hair more tousled than usual. His shirt hangs partially untucked and his tie was just hanging loosely around his neck. Virgil can clearly see the dark circles from working overtime getting ready for exams that usually are hidden by his glasses. 

“Hello, Virgil,” Logan says flatly, looking at his hand that was holding his clearly broken glasses. 

“What happened?”

There’s a sigh before Logan responds, “Don’t worry about it.”

Virgil shakes his head. “You know I can’t.” 

There’s another pause before Logan says quietly, “It's not my place, Virgil.”

Virgil doesn’t miss the pauses in Logan’s responses. He’s being overly cautious, the emo notices. “Are you okay, at least?” Virgil asks, matching Logan’s tone. 

“I’m fine,” Logan says, his eyes still focused on the crushed glasses in his hand. “I cannot say the same for these, however. I’m sorry, Virgil, but I have to get going. My sister was just called from class to take me to get them repaired.”

“Yeah, totally.” Virgil nods. 

The door to the office swings open again. Logan’s hand grabs Virgil’s shoulder and pulls him against the wall, out of the walkway. A husband and wife walk through the door, and Virgil’s stomach drops: it’s Roman’s parents. His mom’s lips are pressed firmly together, her eyes trained in front of her. While she was always a beautiful woman, there’s an almost fire behind her eyes that scream to watch out. Roman could get the same look when his friends were threatened. His father, a burly man, walks next to her, shaking his head with a defeated look etched in his features. 

A security officer, Officer Ward, comes out and Virgil recognizes him from when the man helped with a couple of set builds for the theater. Virgil’s chest tightens as he sees Roman next to the man, looking small against the large frame of his father and even larger one of Officer Ward. 

Roman is staring at the floor while he walks, not blinking. Virgil can see the start of a bruise on Roman’s jaw and his heart breaks. Roman doesn’t look up or even seem to realize two of his best friends are standing right next to him. Virgil starts to reach, but Logan digs his fingers into Virge’s shoulder while shaking his head ever so slightly. He drops his hand and watches as the officer leads them outside of the main glass doors. He says something to Roman, who nods, before shaking hands with Mr. and Mrs. Prince and heading down the sidewalk, probably to do a last check of the premises before the day is officially over. 

Virgil moves Logan’s hand off of his shoulder and walks towards the door after it closes, separating them from the Prince family. Virgil can’t help but ask again, “What happened?”

Logan joins him, watching as Roman’s parents say something to their son, who seems to deflate even more. He takes Virgil’s hand and gives a gentle squeeze as a familiar car pulls up in front of the school, Logan’s sister sitting in the driver’s seat. “I have to go. But we’ll be okay, Virge.”

“What happened?” Virgil asks another time, desperate for answers as to why his boyfriend was standing outside with his parents looking smaller than Virgil had ever known him to be. 

“He’ll tell you when he’s ready,” Logan says as he pushes open the door and starts walking towards the car. He gets to where the Prince family is standing, says something to Roman’s parents, his mom nodding and his father offering a handshake. Logan says something to Roman before getting in the car and driving off. 

Virgil stands and watches as Roman and his parents continue to talk, his mother getting more agitated as she goes back and forth with her son. After a moment, Roman’s dad puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder and starts ushering her towards the guest parking lot. Roman hangs his head before turning in the opposite direction towards the student parking. 

Virgil doesn’t remember when he started running. When he gets to the edge of the parking lot sees Roman fumbling with his keys next to his red Ford, “Roman!”

Roman stops with the keys, but doesnt turn around. “Not now, Virgil.”

“Are you okay?” Virgil asks, out of breath. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Roman sighs, starting to shuffle through his keys again. “None of it matters.”

“Why?” Virgil demands, clenching his fist at his side. “I don’t understand what’s going on! Logan wouldn’t tell me anything!”

Roman drops his keys on the ground as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, “I really messed up, Virge. I lost my cool and let him get the best of me.”

Virgil quickly bends down and picks up the keys from where they had bounced. “Who? JD? Whatever it was, I know he started it.”

“Not ac-cording to the school,” Roman says, his voice breaking. Virgil’s eyes grow at just how defeated he sounds.

“We all know how he is,” Virgil responds, shoving the keys in his pocket. “They can’t be serious.”

“It’s on camera.” Roman’s shoulders start shaking, as his voice takes on a harsher tone, tilting his head back looking towards the sky. “God, I played right into his hand.”

Virgil quickly moves himself around Roman so that he’s now facing him. “Hey, it’ll be okay, Ro.”

“I’m suspended, Virgil!” Roman shouts, finally lowering his gaze to meet Virgil’s, challenging him to argue. “Five days. And I have to replace his phone. And they took prom.”

“What?”

“I can’t go to prom. Our senior prom!” he looks away again, tears falling, unable to contain themselves. “God, you must hate me. First I make you feel like you have to do some big thing just to ask me, now I can’t even go.”

Virgil’s gut twists, “Listen…”

“And Logan gets roped into the no prom group for just trying to break up the fight!” Roman sobs, sinking to his knees as he clutches his car to slow his fall. “He must be crushed. And what about Patton? You all must despise me. And rightfully so.”

“Stop…”

“I should have just done what he wanted. What would one statement hurt? I could have avoided this whole mess. And now everyone that I care about hates me.”

“Shut up!”  Virgil shouts, anger coming back in a flash. “Just shut up, for one minute. You are not allowed to put words in my mouth, Princey. Ever.”

The sudden outburst of anger stuns Roman for a moment. Virgil immediately feels guilty for his outburst. The last thing Roman needed right now was to be yelled at from someone he should be able to open up to. Virgil takes a deep breath before sinking down to eye level with Roman, “Listen to me, I don’t care about prom. Like, at all. If you’re not going, I’m not going. It’s that easy. And while I can’t speak for Patton and Logan, I am sure that whatever they’re feeling, it isn’t hatred. Not for you. Not ever.”

Virgil offers a hand to Roman, who takes it, tears still falling. The anxious teen pulls Roman in and lets Roman collapse in his lap as he strokes his hair. Roman had done this exact thing to him so many times, Virgil was almost glad to get to return the favor for once. 

“Hey,” Virgil says softly after a moment, “I don’t know that the fight was about. At this point, it doesn’t matter. What I do know is that you, Roman Prince, are not one to fight without just cause. You are not the bad guy in this story. I won’t let you. That’s my job.”

That earns a small chuckle from Roman, calming the storm of worry inside Virgil just a little. They stay there for a minute, Virgil just holding Roman as he pulls himself together. Virgil focuses on keeping his breathing steady, smoothing circular motions on Roman’s back. He slowly stops crying, pulling himself together. 

“What are we going to do?” Roman eventually asks.

“Are you able to drive home?” Virgil asks, his brain switching into recovery protocol. His therapist had practically drilled it into him when they talked about how to handle his anxiety attacks, and they seemed to work well for all different kinds of crisis recovery. 

Roman sighs. “… I want to be.”

“But you aren’t. That’s okay. I’ll drive,” Virgil nods. “So here’s our three steps…”

Roman chuckles as he pulls away from Virgil, sitting up straight, “Are you like Picani’s star pupil or something?”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Hush, you know you feel better knowing I’m talking to a therapist. Okay, step one is we’re going to get in the car.”

“You still have last period.”

Virgil waves his hand dismissively. “I signed myself out ages ago. If you thought I was going to sit still for a study hall when my boyfriend was in trouble, you clearly don’t know who you’re talking to. I made a pledge to always be there for you and I meant it.”

“I thought it was my job to protect you,” Roman quips with a raise of an eyebrow. Virgil’s unease settles more at the jest. If Roman was poking fun in a light hearted manner, it meant he was coming around. 

“Last time I checked,” replies Virgil as he stands up and offers Roman a hand, “A knight is expected to stay by his Prince’s side. That’s part of the whole fealty thing, right? Or did I totally miss what Logan was trying to tell me?”

“Okay, okay,” Roman allows with a soft smile. “Step one, car. Step two?”

“Step two, I’ll drive you home.”

“Are you sure-”

“Yes. I got it. Step three-”

“I get to kiss you,” Roman says as he grabs Virgil’s hoodie and pulls him close, kissing him softly, gently, as if trying to say something Virgil can’t quite place. When they pull apart, Virgil can’t help but smile. 

“I mean, sure,” Virgil laughs. “But you’re doing it out of order.”

“Let’s get out of here. I technically can’t be on property anyway.”

Virgil nods, “Okay,” and unlocks the car. As Roman walks to the other side of the vehicle, Virgil’s brain is already starting to figure out a way to make Roman feel better when it comes time for prom. 

-1 hour-

Virgil stands holding the bottom of the ladder while Patton reaches to get the string of Christmas lights through the last hook to attach them to the house. Patton’s parents had graciously allowed the boys to use their backyard for their master plan to make Logan and Roman feel better about the loss of their prom. 

When Virgil had gotten home after driving Roman home, he immediately called Patton and started planning this alternative prom. Patton was all over the idea before Virgil had even finished explaining his ideas. And over the past few hours, all of their hard work had finally come together. 

“There, how does that look?” Patton asks, backing down the ladder. 

Virgil looks around the brick patio in the dying light and squints, “Kind of hard to tell without the lights plugged in.”

“Right,” Patton smiles, walking over to the light switch by the door and flipping it. The whole yard is then awash in a warm glow. Lights outline the house features, windows and doors. They stretch across the ground along the flowerbeds under the windows to the fence, where they twist through the whole perimeter of the backyard. Twinkling lights are woven through the pergola, softly adding a shimmering effect to the whole yard. 

“Whoah,” Virgil whispers as he takes it all in. The patio furniture sits in the yard, clearing the patio except for the large speakers synced up to Patton’s phone. The long picnic table sits off to the side of the yard with punch and snacks all spread out. “It looks great, Patton.”

“Are you sure it looks bright enough?“ asks Patton. “I could go get another strand.”

“What? No. Why do your Dads have so many Christmas lights in the first place?” 

“You mean you don’t?”

Virgil shrugs.  “We just don’t. Bought the house spotlights in green and red, calling that a day.”

“Oh those are cute,” Patton muses, walking over to the speakers. “Should we start these up?”

“Good idea,” Virgil agrees. “That playlist is like 10 hours long anyway.”

Patton presses a couple of things on his phone before soft music starts playing. It takes a moment before Virigl can place it: Suddenly Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors. Virgil smiles softly at the memories from that show come to him. It was the musical his and Roman’s freshman year. Patton and Virgil had spent hours both of them pulling music to put on their own personalized prom playlist: pop songs that drove them crazy from over use, songs from shows they had been in, songs they loved to sing in their cars, songs that just reminded them of Roman and Logan. 

“And we are in business,” Patton puts the phone in his pocket, having set the volume loud enough to be heard, but soft enough that they could easily talk over top of it. 

“Sweet,” Virgil comments, checking his watch. Any minute now. 

Patton walks over to Virgil and smiles, “Can I fuss?”

Virgil rolls his eyes, “Okay, dad.”

Patton reaches up and starts straightening Virgil’s purple skinny tie. It matches his favorite purple Converse which he had insisting on wearing. Patton flattens it and tucks it into the black vest, adjusting the collar of the white button down to let it cooperate. “There. Much better. Where’s your jacket?” 

Virgil pushes the cuffs up his arm to his elbow, having rolled them up while setting up, nodding to the black jacket that matches his pants on the chair just inside the door, “Inside. It's too hot out here for it.”

“Fair enough,” Patton nods. He’s wearing a light blue suit that really makes his eyes pop. Virgil can’t help but smile and return the favor of fixing his tie, a darker almost navy blue. Not many people could pull off the light blue, but it just makes sense for Patton, Virgil thinks.

“Hello?” Logan’s voice comes accompanied by the click of the gate opening. Logan and Roman walk into the yard, their eyes large as they take in the scene. Virigl’s breath catches as he takes Roman in. Roman has a dark maroon suit on with a white button up and a gold tie. It was the perfect outfit for Roman, demanding attention but for all of the right reasons. Virgil can’t help but notice that while Roman seemed put together, he was lacking in usual spark. Something wasn’t quite right about him, something in his eyes. Roman’s eyes find Virgil’s, and Virgil is suddenly very aware of his ears burning. 

He breaks Roman’s gaze and looks over at Logan, and a smirk forms. Of course he and Patton would end up in complementary looks. Where Patton was in a lighter blue suit with a dark blue tie, Logan was in the opposite with a dark suit and lighter tie. 

“Oh, you’re here!” squeals Patton as he runs over to greet them, Virgil following behind him. 

“What is all of this?” asks Roman, his eyes sparkling. “Mom wouldn’t tell me anything, just pushed me into this and then into the car to pick up Logan.”

“It was all Virgil’s idea.” Patton beams as he takes Logan and Roman by the hand, pulling them further in so they can see the whole space. “If you can’t go to prom, we would bring prom to you. Or, as much as we can, anyway.”

Virgil looks at his shoes, feeling his face turn warm. “Patton came up with most of the plan, really. I just had a few suggestions.”

“You two--” Roman swings an arm around Virgil and the other around Patton, wrapping them in a hug-- “are the absolute sweetest. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

Patton returns the hug. “Of course we did. You two deserve this.”

Logan joins the group, taking Patton’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “It is very thoughtful of you. Both of you,” he adds, catching Virgil’s eye with a smile. 

The song changes to Footloose, making Roman jump in recognition. “Oh my gosh I loved this show!”

Virgil smirks at the memories behind the spotlight for tech crew. It was their sophomore year, over the summer. “I made sure it got on the playlist.”

Roman starts pulling away from the group, keeping Patton’s hand. “Come on, Pat. You have to remember this dance!”

“Of course I do,” Patton giggles as he and Roman break into the show’s choreography.

Virgil smiles, watching them dance. He feels his chest settle a little at the light in Roman sparking. Virgil had been worried this week, noticing the dark circles under Roman’s eyes increasing with each night. He hadn’t been himself. Something was eating away at his Prince, but Roman kept pushing him away, denying the issue. 

“Logan?” Virgil finally asks. 

“Hm?”

“Can… can you tell me what happened.. Yet?” He hates asking again. But the worry is always present. 

Logan sighs, turning his attention from Patton and Roman, making eye contact with Virgil. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“I… I just want to know how to help,” holding the contact. 

Logan looks back at the two dancing. “He was just trying to protect you, Virgil.”

“Protect me?” Virgil asks, almost offended. “From what?”

“Your cousin, JD.”

“I can handle JD,” insists Virgil. “Why would Roman get involved?”

“He wanted Roman to help Remus’ campaign for prom court.”

Virgil’s eyes widen at the absurdity of the idea. Remus Duke was a fellow senior classmate who was chaotic and dangerous. The guy has tried to set fire to theater sets when he wasn’t cast in shows, harrasses students, and has caused chaos at numerous football games. 

“Why?”

Logan adjusts his glasses. “I don’t have to tell you how popular Prince is with his classmates. His decision to not run, while I fully support it, meant that students were lost with where to go. Roman throwing support may turn the tide, much like when presidential nominees may be supported by their enemies after they drop out.”

“Right.” Virgil’s brow furrows as he tries to think through his cousin’s actions, “So JD asked for support, Roman said no, probably because Remus is a hazard to society.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

“So where does the fight come in?”

“JD made a threat to try and force Roman’s hand,” Logan slowly explains, fidgeting with his tie. Virgil knows Logan well enough to pick up on the nervous habit. “JD took it two steps too far and Roman went after him.”

“What threat?” Virgil demands, clenching a fist at his side. How dare his cousin threaten Roman. 

There’s a heavy, weighted pause, before Logan answers softly, “He threatened to out you, Virgil.” 

Everything stops for Virgil. It isn’t like he had never thought about coming out fully. At school he is kind of out. It isn’t like he hid his relationship with Roman to the theater kids. Most other kids pay no attention to him anyway and couldn’t believe the Roman Prince would be with someone so opposite of himself. 

But at home? At home he wasn’t out. He couldn’t be. Not without significant risk of repercussion. He always thought he and JD understood one another though. They were never friends, Virgil would say. But JD seemed to not mind giving Virgil his space at school. Virgil had never thought about JD being a risk for Virgil, especially in such an underhanded way. Would JD manipulate Virgil if it meant getting what he wanted, yes. But this? Threatening to out him? JD couldn’t be that underhanded, could he? It must have been a bluff.

“Obviously Roman wouldn’t let your safety be at risk,” Logan continued, pulling Virgil back to Earth. “So when JD pulled out his phone, Roman went after it.”

“If JD pulled out the phone…” Virgil’s certainty of the bluff crashes to zero. He feels his temper rising. “Shit. Why?”

“I assure you, I don’t know,” Logan admits. “It seems oddly ‘Aaron Burr’ for your cousin.”

Virgil’s mind spins with anger. “Why didn’t he just tell someone? If he was bated into it, wouldn’t the school go easier on Roman?”

Logan shakes his head. “Roman’s only goal through this has been to protect you. He wouldn’t tell them what JD did, because to do so would out you anyway, allowing JD to win to an extent.”

Virgil swallows, his eyes stinging a little in frustration. He takes a few deep breaths, calming himself a little. This is why Roman wouldn’t tell him what happened: he was worried Virgil would get upset. Virgil could handle this. 

Logan places a hand gently, reassuringly on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil looks at him. Logan smiles a little. “It's okay, Virgil. What's done is done.”

Virgil nods, feeling a little better with the reassurance from Logan. Logan was one of Virgil’s favorite people. He could count on Logan to be there to tell him the truth when he needed it, but he also didn’t sugar coat it. Logan was a good friend to have by your side in a hard time. Virgil smiles a little as he finally realizes, “You tried to pull Roman off of him, didn’t you?”

“After Roman got in a few good punches, yes.” Logan smirks, something flashing in his eyes too fast for Virgil to identify. “I had to try to stop Roman or he might have seriously injured your cousin. But the school has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to fights.”

“I’m sorry you got roped into it.”

“I’m not.”

The song ends, leading to Patton and Roman collapsing in giggles on the dance floor. Virgil takes a deep breath, noticing the tension releasing with the knowledge of what happened. Of knowing that Roman would be ok. 

“Thank you, Logan. For telling me. And for having his back.”

“Any time,” nods Logan. “Come on, let’s get our stage kids off the floor before they ruin their outfits.” 

“Hello!” a familiar voice shouts, causing the four boys to turn towards the gate.

“Leo! Terrance! You guys made it!” Patton squeals in excitement at the sight of their friends. He helps Roman to his feet before running to greet the newcomers. Behind them, Virgil can see lots of other theater kids walking up the path all dressed for prom, although slightly disheveled. 

“Where are they?” Adri calls. “Ah, our favorite delinquents!” 

“Logan and Roman! Long time no see!” Camden says, making a show of looking around. 

“What’s going on?” asks Roman, his face lighting up as he sees his friends pouring in. 

“We told you,” Virgil says, walking up next to him. “Since you guys couldn’t go to prom, we brought prom to you.”

Roman looks at Virgil, opening and closing his mouth with nothing coming out. Virgil smirks at that and continues, “Obviously we didn’t want to ask them to skip prom entirely. We’re hosting the after party.”

“And we left as soon as we could,” Valerie says, walking past them. “Wouldn’t be prom without you, Prince.”

“You guys,” Roman squeals in excitement. Virgil can’t help but feel the excitement too. Roman finally looks like himself again: the familiar glow, the magnetic force, the dazzling smile. He stands tall again, looking perfect in his suit. 

Virgil nudges Roman with his shoulder. “Go socialize. You haven’t seen these guys all week.”

“But I haven’t spent any time with you,” Roman says softly. 

Virgil laughs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Roman!” Kenny shouts, waving him over. “Get over here, I want a pic.”

Roman looks once again at Virgil, who smiles in reassurance, before running to the group. Virgil stays towards the gate, watching as the yard becomes more and more populated. He laughs a little when he notices a couple of freshmen from the theater in the mix. Seems as if everyone wanted to be a part of the celebration. 

Virgil watches as Roman walks around, taking time to greet every person. Politicians wish they could be as popular as Roman, Virgil thinks. Always with the best intentions, making everyone feel special in their own way. It was no wonder Remus wanted Roman on his side for the election.

Virgil fidgets at the thought of the cause of the fight. He didn’t need Roman to protect him. He had dealt with his cousin long before Roman was a part of his life. JD wasn’t a bad guy, he just determined. He even had probably been calling Roman’s bluff with the phone… probably. When JD was determined there was nothing he wouldn’t do to get his way. Virgil solved this generally by staying out of the way. JD only became an issue if you were in the way. And apparently Roman had opted to get in the way, drawing a target on his head.

“Is this thing on?” Patton asks, tapping a mic that he had hooked into the speakers. “Oh great. Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”

All of the teens settled down, pooling on the dance floor. Virgil is amazed to see how many people were there, at least two hundred. Theater kids, band kids, choir kids and a few other students all mixed together. It shouldn’t have surprised him. Virgil knew there was lots of overlap in these musically inclined groups. But to see them all in one place with their dates is impressive. 

“Okay, great,” Patton chirps. “I just wanted to take a moment, on the behalf of myself and Virgil, to thank you all for coming to this little get together to celebrate Logan and Roman.”

There’s a cheer from the crowd which causes Virgil’s heart to swell. It is nice to see the group support their boys. 

Patton passes the mic to Joan. They wave at the crowd to try and hush the sound that grew when they took the stage, “Alright, alright. You gotta let me tell them.”

After a moment the crowd quiets, although there is an almost electric current running under the surface, much like the one before a curtain is pulled for opening night. “Thank you,” Joan nods as they turn towards Roman and Logan, who have been pushed to the front of the crowd. “Logan and Roman, we the students would like to thank you for your service as part of our community this past year. Logan, for your awesome tech skills as well as study help. Roman, for always being a source of entertainment for us.”

Cheers erupt again. Thomas walks up and mutters something to Joan, who laughs, before taking the mic. 

There are a few whoops before Thomas dramatically starts, “Story Time! The Prince decides not to run for King. The people are disappointed. They start talking. Then the Prince is removed from the kingdom, with his faithful Paladin, causing anger in the land.” Virgil snickers at the reference of Logan being a Paladin. The group had played a round of Dungeons and Dragons once that was centered around Roman’s last name. Clearly Thomas was borrowing the concept yet again. 

“But the people are smart,” Thomas continues. “They hatch a plan, unknown to the Prince’s healer and knight, to get the Prince his throne.”

Now this was news to Virgil. He took a few steps towards the group, now curious where this was all headed. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, as most of you are aware, tonight we crowned a Prom King. We all agreed to vote for our candidate that would pass the crown on to the rightful ruler,” Thomas explains as someone in the crowd hands him a golden crown. “It is my pleasure to pass the title on to its rightful holder. Prince, I believe this is yours.”

Virgil fills with a mixture of shock, pride, and relief as he watches the crowd explode into cheers. While he stood by Roman’s choice not to run, he is so relieved to see Roman graciously accept the role from his friends. It just made sense. 

Patton appears out of nowhere and takes Virgil’s hand, leading him through the crowd that seems to part for them. Virgil doesn’t even have time to process what is happening before he realizes his hand is now held by Roman, the golden crown on his head. 

“May I have this dance,” Roman asks, bowing deeply, a twinkle in his eye that catches Virgil’s attention. Virgil nods and allows Roman to pull him in as a soft song starts playing. Oh right, Prom King normally dances with his date for a song, don’t they?

Roman smiles at him as they start swaying together. “There’s my Knight. Finally a moment together.”

Virgil can’t help but notice the people around them, the space they are occupying, the eyes following them. “How do you do this on a stage?” Virgil asks quietly. “Dance with everyone watching?”

“Oh easy,” Roman answers, flawlessly twisting the two of them around the floor. “You forget they exist. Merely part of the background. In my world, it's just us. I can’t even see Logan wrapping his arm around Patton’s waist right now, what are you talking about?”

Virgil chuckles as Roman expertly maneuvers Virgil so he can see what Roman is talking about. Sure enough, Logan is standing behind Patton, his arms wrapped around Patton’s waist as they watch, swaying slightly in place while Patton closes his eyes. It was a sweet moment between the two. If only it could have happened at the actual prom.

“Roman?” Virgil asks after a moment. 

“Yes?” he answers, pulling away just far enough to see Virgil’s face. 

Virgil meets his gaze. “You know you don’t have to protect me, right?”

Roman’s eyes give him away. “What are you talking about?”

“Logan told me what happened,” Virgil admits softly. 

Roman pulls him closer so that Virgil can’t see his face, spinning slowly. 

“I can handle myself, is all I’m saying,” Virgil tries again after a moment. 

“Of course,” Roman nods before pulling back again, his brow pulled together. “I know that. I never meant to insinuate that you couldn’t. I just… hang on.”

The song ends as the crowd applauds before the next song kicks on. Its something upbeat, but Virgil isn’t paying attention. He’s too busy trying to read Roman’s expression as the Prom King pulls him from the middle of the crowd to a darker corner of the yard. Roman doesn’t drop his hand or his gaze, as if trying to hold the moment while getting out of a public setting. Once out of the way, Roman looks at their hands still together. 

“Virgil, you know when you asked me to prom you had that whole pledge of fealty as part of it?”

“Right,” Virgil nods. 

“Well,” Roman explains, his brow pulled together in thought. “It’s part of feudalism from the middle ages, right? I remember you said Logan helped you with it. He must’ve explained it. Anyway, a person swore to a lord that they would do them no harm, that they would be honorable and keep them safe and everything you wrote for me back then.”

“I remember.” Virgil smiles softly. “I still stand by that.”

“I know.” Roman returns the smile. “But there’s part of it that people seem to forget. The people would do this for their lord, but it wasn’t a one way street. The lord was bound by the same principles in return.”

“Okay,” responds Virgil slowly. 

“All I did was uphold my end of the promise. And I would do it again,” says Roman, pushing Virgil’s bangs out of his eyes. 

Virgil leans into the touch, “I… I just don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“I think you’ll find I can handle myself too,” Roman smiles. 

Virgil rolls his eyes and reaches up to straighten Roman’s crown, “Okay. Fair enough.”

Virgil isn’t sure which of them pulls the other, but he finds himself kissing his Prince. Softly, melting into one another. Roman wraps an arm around Virgil and pulls him gently into it, deepening the moment just a little. Virgil embraces it for a moment before he pulls back, smiling. 

“Come on,” Virgil whispers, breathless for a moment, pressing his forehead against Roman’s. “As much as I want to keep you to myself, you do have an adoring public that is waiting for you to lead them in some kind of line dance, I am sure.”

“Only if you come with me,” Roman answers, his smile radiating its normal light once again.

“Uh, I don’t dance,” Virgil scoffs. 

“Just one, please? It's our senior prom,” Roman pleads, making puppy dog eyes. “What about the Cha-cha slide?”

“Only if you can convince Logan to do it too,” Virgil answers. 

“Challenge accepted. He’ll hear his King out, I am sure,” Roman agrees, taking Virgil’s hand. “Are you coming with me?”

“Always.

[multmilk]

The Babysitter | m.l

Pairing: Babysitter!Mark x Reader (ft.bff!lucas)

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Word count: 5555 (hahahaHHHH)

Warnings: thigh riding, voyeurism, finger-fucking, risky sex?, unprotected sex (stay safe when hitting it kids!!), teasing/suggestive themes, dom!mark. mention of baby vomit, talk of death and kidnap (light-hearted).

Summary: Y/N’s parents don’t trust that she’ll be able to take care of her baby cousin alone for an entire week. So, they hire Mark Lee of www.babyhelpers.com. Feeling frustrated, Y/N makes it her mission to prove to her parents that she’s just as good as the babysitter they hired and sets a competition for the two of them. 

It's all fun and games ‘til somebody falls in love, right?  

listen to: carousel– melanie martinez (the whole album—crybaby,  inspired me to do this)  

note: also, this was supposed to be found your love but hah I changed the title and the whole story itself lmaooo sorryyy. Also, the cover was supposed to be like mark in shock with all cute baby things surrounding him but it didn’t turn as good as I hoped so I just changed the whole concept hdsjkd AND mark with babies r the best uwu (also ft. tangled my all time favorite princess movie !!) 

“He’ll be here tomorrow, honey. His name’s Mark Lee,” your mother said as she was slipping on her sandals. “So you’re telling me, you absolutely trust this stranger to take care of my 7 month-old cousin? And that this, complete stranger, knows how to handle a baby?” you scoff and put your hands on your hips.

 You cannot believe that they trust this Mark fucking Lee with your cousin? To say you were feeling bitter was an understatement.  “My colleagues recommend me to this site and to ask for specifically him. He’s gonna be great, Y/N. He has a good reputation and I’ve also seen him volunteer in church,” your mom replies with her own eyeroll, obviously knowing how salty you felt about all of this. “Still, what if he turns out to be a murderer? Not all Christian men are good you know,” you reply again and your mother huffs.

“You can always kick ass Y/N dear, we all know you’re more than capable to protect yourself,” “Also, he’s going to stay here. Make sure to give him pillows and a blanket,” “Woah woah,” your dad interjects, “He cannot stay here with two young females,” “Yeah let him stay somewhere else mom!” you chime in but your mother shakes her head and insists that it’d be easier for the boy to work if he stays at home.   “Bye dear, be nice to Mark!” your mother bids you goodbye and closes the door.  

--- 

MONDAY 

You’ve stalked this Mark all night. He sure looked nice and you were pretty sure that being nice is just his front. I mean, who looks like God’s favorite boy and actually is a good guy? That wouldn’t be possible, of course it wouldn’t be.

It was currently 8 am and your baby cousin was still asleep in her crib. You’re currently drinking coffee and gazing outside your window, thinking about a lot of things. Like, what if he actually is better at taking care of your cousin than you? You can’t let that happen, your pride completely taking over. Which lead you to a plan and that is to observe how Mark ‘works’ and completely do everything to mess his routine up. Once you’ve succeeded, you’re going to make sure that he and your parents both knew that you are just as good a sitter he is. Feeling proud of your thought, you headed back to the dining room to cook some breakfast.

Ding. You walk up to the door and open it to see Mark Lee, God’s favorite creation, right in front of your eyes. He’s even more cute in personal. Wait no, he’s your competitor.   

“Oh hi, is this Ms. Y/L/N’s house?” he asks as he looks into your eyes. You straighten up your posture albeit your knees falling weak to his sweet voice. “Yeah, I’m their daughter,” you say with arms crossed over your chest, making your breasts more prominent. Mark’s eyes leave yours for a second to glance at your breasts but quickly returns to your eyes again.

“I’m Mark Lee. I suppose you’re not the one I’m going to babysit the whole week?” he laughs a little. He takes his hand out of his pocket for you to shake but you just stare straight into his eyes. “Of course not. Jiji’s sleeping. She’s quite demanding for a 7 month-old, so if you can’t handle her just holler,” you say as you step aside for him to enter the house. He places his backpack on the couch and sits down. “I wasn’t expecting someone else to be here. You’re old enough to take care of her so why not just leave her to you? It could’ve saved you guys money,” he says. “Oh so me being here makes your task of ransacking our house a little harder doesn’t it?” you challenge and he giggles. He fucking giggles. What twenty-one year old giggles? “I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear your horrible assumption of who I am. Anyway, so why not just leave her to you? Unless,” he trails off and you raise your eyebrows at him, silently urging him to continue. “Unless they don’t think you’re capable enough to take care of her,” and then he smirks. You turn your back to him and go up to your room.  

What a way to show him you’re an adult, Y/N. Walking out when offended? Real classy. 

 ---

 Surprisingly enough, Mark was good at taking care of Jiji. You just sat back and watched TV while he plays with the baby, feed her, cradle her to sleep and change her diapers. He really was good with babies, but whatever he could do, you could do better. Or so you think.

You’ve observed that no matter the noise or interesting thing that’s playing on the television could distract him from paying attention to your little cousin. He’s also very creative. In a span of 5 hours and 30 minutes, he’s created a brand-new rendition of the Alphabet Song that’s way better than the original one. He’s managed to help Jiji count from one to ten which makes him a good and patient teacher.  

You, however, is the complete opposite of Mark. Sure, you were very handsy with kids but with babies? Your patient runs thin and you have got quite a temper, not really good for babies if you get annoyed as soon as they cry and don’t stop.  That’s going to change tomorrow, you’ll step up your game and make sure your parents come back to a new and improved you.  

-- 

You woke up to the cries of your cousin. She slept just a few spaces away from you and you quickly felt annoyed that your sleep was ruined but grew even more annoyed when you see Mark by the doorway, looking like he woke up from his slumber as well. He rushes to the crib and carefully picks her up. He shushes her and sway side-to-side as he hums to her.  

“Give her to me Mark,” you say standing up “Nonesense, this is my job. Go back to sleep Y/N,” he continues to rock the baby back to sleep.   You scoff once again and try to take the baby away from him but he quickly turns to his side and squints his eye at you. “I can make her fall asleep faster, Ma- wait. How did you know my name?” you whisper-yelled and he says he saw your high school diploma downstairs. “With the way you’re talking, you’re not helping her fall asleep faster,” he comments but you weren’t going to give up. You step forward but he steps back, still cradling baby Jiji. “Quit it, Y/N,” but you ignore his statement. “Stop it! Why are you insisting on stealing her?” his tone of voice made you flinch a bit. 

Jiji cries and you both stare each other down as he still hums to her, mumbling a quick apology to the baby.   “I can take care of her too, Mark. I’m just as good as you are!” you whisper-yelled again and then he looks at you with a mischevious glint in his eye. He steps forward and you back-away, only stopping once your back has hit the edge of the crib. “Oh so this is what this is? You trying to prove you’re a better sitter than me? To what? Boost your ego? Prove your parents wrong?” he says lowly. You turn your head to the side and look straight at the window, just to avoid the way he’s looking at you right now.  “It won’t end well for you, sweetheart. I’m a pro at what I’m doing,” he says again and when you don’t reply he just smirks to himself as he sets Jiji down when she’s fast asleep. He opens your door but stops to say something before going out,  

 “Good luck Y/N. May the best sitter win,” and you look at him. He smiles and winks at you and then turns to leave. 

 ---

[11:20 pm] to: yuck-hei  

I am going to kick his ass tomorrow 

[read 11:20 pm]  

[11:21 pm] from: yuck-hei 

Who's ass??

[read 11:21 pm] 

[11:21 pm] to: yuck-hei 

Mark lee!!! The sitter my parents hired

[read 11:21 pm] 

[11:21 pm] from: yuck-hei 

Mark lee? From babyhelpers.com? I know him, he took care of my sister while me and my parents were away. 

[read 11:22 pm]

[11:22 pm] from: yuck-hei 

He’s really good and nice y/n sooo y ru planning on kicking his ass?

[read 11:22 pm] 

[11:24 pm] to: yuck-hei 

Not helping lucas!!!! 🙁( my parents think he’s more capable of tending to jiji way more than I can :--( 

[read 11:24 pm]  

[11:24 pm] from: yuck-hei 

Not to be a total ass but,,, you’re not really keen on babies? Remember when you had to take care of my sister while I was out to buy food for us?  

You cringe as the scene plays out in your mind. Lucas was going to buy you guys ice cream and pizza and you had volunteered to take care of his sister. At first it was fun just playing toys with her but she had started to cry and you assumed she was hungry so you bought out the baby food Lucas had stored in their cupboard. She stopped crying once you fed her but then she started crying again and as you were trying to feed her more food, she vomited all over your (Lucas') shirt and your face. A white and creamy substance drips down to your neck and chin. On top of all of that, her diaper was full and she had pooped and some of it had stained the couch you two were sitting on. 

Lucas was not amused. 

--- 

TUESDAY 

Cooking breakfast was supposed to be the first step to your plan but of course, Mark had beat you to it. He had bought you guys fast food and was currently eating his chicken when he spotted you standing in the stairway. He greeted you a good morning while raising his chicken at you. You walked towards your cupboard looking for something to eat when Mark said, “I bought you food too, Y/N,” but you refuse and insist on cooking your own food.

“I bet this chicken is better than what you’ll cook,” he said with a teasing tone. “Watch me,” you challenge and pull out carton after carton of your meal. The whole time you were cooking, Mark hadn’t tear his gaze away from you, only moving when he thinks he hears Jiji make a sound upstairs. He’d make comments here and there to infuriate you and soon enough, it did. 

“God can you shut up? I’m trying to cook here,” you snap at him and he just laughs. “Maybe you should find a way to make me shut up,” he tests you and you felt your heart quicken at his statement. You were just taken aback right? As you were about to come with a witty remark, Mark had rushed upstairs when he heard a thud. Of course you wanted to see what happened upstairs but your bigger concern was not burning your house down.

You’ve finished cooking and Mark has ascended from upstairs, carrying baby Jiji while she sucks her thumb. “She put pillows on top of each other to get out of the crib,” he says then sets Jiji down on the chair beside him. “Then, she landed on your bed. She attempted to crawl down I guess? Found her on the floor,” he proceeds to feed the baby small pieces of cut out chicken.

“Wait, she fell from my bed? Oh God, what if she hit her head or something? What if something happen-” “She’s fine. I’ve checked for for any sign of injury and there was none. We jury and there was none. We could go to the hospital first thing tomorrow,” Mark reassures you and you nod. You three eat in silence, watching the raindrops race on the window.  

--- 

Your baby sister was sat on Mark’s lap, they were both coloring different Disney princesses. They looked cute together, Mark was cute, however you can’t afford to get distracted. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. Grinning, you take Jiji and Mark looks at you dumbfounded, ready to scold you but, you shush him and tell him you thought of something nice. 

You rummaged your closet to find the princess costume you wore a few years back in Halloween. It was a Rapunzel (from Tangled) dress and you had the complete set. Violet dress, blonde wig, golden tiara and purple shoes. It wouldn’t fit Jiji, considering you were 12 years-old when you wore this so you cut the length and adjusted the sleeves. You helped Jiji change and put the tiara on her. She looked like a princess and you both giggled. You got out a purple dress and slipped it into your body and made Jiji choose your jewelry. You drew a makeshift crown and used clips to put it on your hair. After finishing, you carried your cousin downstairs and found Mark furiously coloring Princess Aurora’s dress. 

“Mark,” he turns around and his eyes go wide at the sight of you in a dress. “You know if you wanted to dress up for me, you could’ve done so without having to drag Jiji along,” he comments as he walks toward you to take Jiji. “You look so cute princess,” he says and lifts Jiji up into the air. You were about to thank him for the compliment but realize it was meant for the baby he was holding

“You’re going to dress up too,” you say and his eyes bulge out and you and Jiji laugh out loud in sync. “Surely you’ve watched Tangled?” you ask and he hums in approval. “Good. You’re playing Mother Gothel,” you say and throw him the red dress you have. “I’m not wearing a dress Y/N!” he exclaims and Jiji laughs louder. “But Jiji would want to see Markie in a dress. Isn’t that right Jiji?” you turn to look at your cousin and she nods her head, obviously amused at the sight of two adults playing dress up. “You’re lucky you two are cute,” is all Mark says before he puts the baby down and treads to the bathroom to change.

--

The lights were dim and the golden light of the sun shun through the white flower-patterned curtains. You set Jiji down on the couch with her stuff toys and pillows around her. The scene where Mother Gothel and Rapunzel sing plays in the background and you and Mark take your positions and act out. 

“Mother’s here to help you

All I have is one request

Rapunzel?” Mark sings, also incredibly well at that

“Yes?” you ask totally in character

“Don’t ever ask to leave this tower again,” he looks into your eyes and holds your waist

“Yes mother,” you reply not tearing your gaze from his

“I love you very much dear,” Mark says again that caused butterflies in your stomach

“I love you more,” you smile

“I love you most,” he releases his grip from your waist 

“Don’t forget it

You’ll regret it

Mother knows best,” he sings with a dramatic roll of his head.

Jiji laughs and claps her hand. You’ve never seen your cousin so happy and so you giggle and Mark joins in. The three of you collapse into a fit of laughter ‘til you notice you and Mark were close to each other again. You’ve both stopped laughing and so did the other two. You inhale as he moves his face closer to yours, his lips a mere inch away from your own 

“Oona,” Jiji mumbles and you both turn to look at her. Jiji points at the man standing at the door, also known as Wong Yukhei. You pull out of Mark and clear your throat. Lucas stands frozen on the doorway, completely forgetting that he was in the process of untying his shoes. He stares at you then back at Mark then at Jiji and then back at you. You clap your hands and this seems to remove everyone’s trance. Jiji goes back to watch the movie on the television and Mark removes the violet eyeshadow and blue lipstick Jiji (and you) had put on his face. You breeze walk towards your giant friend and pull him towards the dining room.

“If I interrupted something, I could leave,” he suggests and you take note of the stupid smile on his face, you knew he was never going to let this go. “Shut up, it’s part of my plan,” you pinch his side and he laughs out loud, you know the kind that’s so deep yet it booms the entire house? Yeah, that laugh. “Part of my plan my ass,” Yukhei shakes his head. You mumble something about keeping him distracted to prevent him from doing his work but you both know it’s complete bull.

“Why are you here anyways? You could’ve texted or called me you know,” you tell him as you wash the lipstick off of your face.“I’ve texted you ten times, called you twenty times. Thought you were dead or something worse so I thought I’d come to the rescue. If you weren’t so… distracted, You would’ve heard your phone go off,” he adds and sprinkle water from the faucet at him to act like his words offended you.

“Okay fine. I was distracted but- wait, did you just say something worse than death? What could possibly be more heartbreaking than death?” you ask, completely forgetting to ask why he was here seeing as he didn’t answer it the first time. 

“Getting kidnapped,” he says it as if it’s such an obvious answer, you wanted to hit his arm. “I mean, when you’re dead it would leave a scar and yeah permanent damage. But when you’re kidnapped and not found and all of that, the uncertainty of it just leaves you hollow and lost too, you know? So yeah, I think not knowing where a person is, possibly knowing she’s in danger and you can’t do anything to save them, is scarier and much worse than death,” you give him a nod and think over his words.

Whenever you’re with Lucas, your talks could completely shift from funny and dumbassery to 2 am deep talks and you love it. “Any who, I came by to hang out but if you prefer to be with-“ you cut him off saying that he should stay, already knowing what’s going to be next in that sentence of his. He chuckles and kisses your head. You didn’t know that Mark was watching the two of you as he fixed the mess you three made. He ignored the feeling of jealousy that’s bothering him.

--

Lucas had introduced himself to Mark and Mark surprisingly remembered who the tall friend of yours was. The three of you had settled on the couch to watch a movie while Jiji sat between your legs. The blanket wasn’t big enough for the four of you so everyone was sitting close to each other. As much as you wanted to watch a horror movie, the two boys beside you refused and used Jiji as an excuse. You all settled to watch Get Smart, all adults being a fan of Anne Hathaway and Steve Carell. 

Lucas mimicked the sounds of guns going off and you and your baby cousin would laugh every time, except when Mark tried to do it too. It instead had made Jiji cry and Mark quickly apologizes and shuts his mouth soon after. Halfway through the film, Jiji had fallen asleep and you and Yukhei cuddled.The blanket was off of you three and instead draped over Jiji’s little legs so Mark could clearly see Yukhei’s hand on your thigh, giving it subtle squeezes every now and then. He observed the way you reacted to Lucas’ touches and you oddly felt at peace. Your eyes dropped and you quietly snored on Yukhei’s chest.  

“She’s pretty, huh?” Lucas’ voice surprised Mark so the boy averted his gaze. “When you decide you want her and maybe go for something serious with her, make sure to take care of her, okay? Don’t break her heart, Mark. I mean it,” Lucas says as he stares the smaller boy down. Mark nods and stands up to take Jiji upstairs. Mark placed her on the crib and jogged downstairs to help you clean up. 

What he didn’t expect was you to stand in front of Yukhei and kiss him on the cheek. You bid him goodbye and sigh of exhaustion.

“You and Lucas are a thing, huh?” Mark asks you as he turns the television off. “Yeah a platonic thing,” you reply and stretch your limbs, the action causing your shirt to lift up and Mark catch a glimpse of your tummy. He blushes and turns around, acting as if he didn’t see anything.  “Good night, Mark,” you tell him and go upstairs.   

--

WEDNESDAY  

True enough to his words, as soon as the three of you had eaten and bathed, you went to the hospital. It is a nice day outside, the sun was shining but not bright enough to hurt your eyes. The wind was blowing Jiji and Mark’s hair and there weren’t many cars on the street early in the morning. 

The trees that surrounded the hospital made the day prettier. The scenery serene and comforting.

Jiji was playing with the rag doll the pediatrician gave her to distract her while the doctor checks for any damage.The doctor then explains that it was good that you took your cousin to the doctor to be sure but advised that next time, it’d be better and easier to assess the damage if you bring her earlier. She reassures that Jiji will be fine and that you three could be on your way. 

You’re in a toy shop and decide to spoil your baby cousin, it isn’t everyday you get to go out with her anyways. Mark was by the toy gun section as you pick up the barbie dolls your cousin had chosen.

You approach the black-haired boy but screamed when he pointed a gun at you and tells you to freeze. Without even thinking of your actions, you hands immediately shot up in mock surrender, causing the dolls to fall on the tiled floor. Mark laughs and apologizes while you huff and stomp away from him, Jiji on tow.

“That’s all you’re going to buy? I could definitely buy Jiji more,” Mark comments as he hands you back the dolls you’ve dropped. “You know what, I’m going to look for a toy that I think Jiji wants and come back here to let her choose. Loser buys us lunch,” Mark confidently says. You chuckle and allow him to do so. Five minutes later and he comes back with a Rapunzel doll in his hand. Jiji’s eyes sparkles almost immediately when she sees the toy she’s holding. Mark crouches down and whispers into Jiji’s ears. 

“Y/N-ie dressed up like this doll remember? This doll and your noona look the same right? Very pretty, yeah?” and Jiji nods her head enthusiastically and grabs the doll from Mark. “What did you say to her? That’s cheating Lee!” you yelled at the guy but he just laughs at you. “I won fair and square sweetheart. Now where to to lunch?” he grins and you grimace. 

--

The whole day you and Mark competed for Jiji’s attention. Mark was winning by three points and boy, did he gloat. Mark had carried the shopping bags and you carried Jiji. It was still a sunny day so you decided to head to the amusement park. Mark left the shopping bags near the counter and bought tickets for the three of you.  

You watched as Mark shot target after target, too immersed in the game just so he could get that big ass teddy bear. You and Jiji watched the way the veins in his arm popped out whenever he pulled the trigger. Well obviously, your baby cousin wouldn’t focus on that detail exactly, she was just happily eating ice cream while watching the targets go down one by one. 

You’ve all tried different rides (ones that allow you to bring your cousin with you) and was about to go home before Mark argued with you that winning a teddy bear before going home is an absolute must. How could you say no when he looked so cute? You completely forget the competition thing, fully accepting that Mark was indeed a better sitter than you.

 “Yes!” Mark exclaimed and he looked downright happy. He’s fist-pumping the air and jumped twice before he had to calm himself down when parents and children looked at him. He takes the giant teddy bear and hands it to you. “Wait this is for me?” you ask, shock and confusion very evident on your face. Mark nods and you thank him. 

“We never really started right. Consider this as my peace offering?” his tone seems a little hesitant but you reassure him with a kiss to his cheek. It seemed as if time had stopped and only the three of you were existing. It was a perfect moment until it started raining, hard. When the hell did the clouds turn grey? You two rush to get your shopping bags and run for shelter. 

Soon enough the rain had stopped but nothing quickly shielded you from its impact earlier. The three of you were soaking and Jiji was crying. You then decided to take a cab and go home.

--

You took Jiji to the bathroom to give her a quick bath and then dried her. You had Mark get her her baby formula. “Here y-“ Mark stops in his tracks as he sees you taking off your shirt. Time seems to be fucking with him because every moment seemed slower than the last one. He watched as you unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side. 

What he couldn’t take was when you bent down to take your jeans off of you completely. He hid himself behind your door, breath hitched as he felt blood rushed down his cock. It’s so so wrong, but it felt so good. He wanted to touch you, caress you, kiss you and nourish you. “Mark?” you ask and he cleared his throat before handing you the formula. You thank him and smile. 

He’s certain he won’t get any sleep tonight. 

--

THURSDAY  

It took everything in Mark’s willpower to bend you over your kitchen counter and ram into you. Last night, you wearing a shirt with no bra on and definitely no shorts on. When your little cousin had slept peacefully. You two listened to chill music, talked about your childhood and dreams. Mark discovered you two had a lot in common and focused on your stories instead of the way your lips moved or when your thighs move when you shift into a more comfortable position. 

Last night was pure torture for Mark but he secretly loved it, not wanting it to be any other way.

The last straw however, was when he saw you at 7 am in the morning, earphones on (but he could hear the Paramore song you were playing from where he was standing) with nothing but a bra and pajamas on. Sure, it was hot, but didn’t you feel bothered that another man, especially a stranger, was in your house and you’re wearing little clothes? Not to mention how you were practically body rolling at this time of the day? 

“Y/N,” Mark said as he moved towards you. “Y/N!” he says more loudly which causes you to jump a bit. Mark’s eyes trailed down your body, stopping momentarily at your breasts. “Like what you see?” you teased and his jaw clenched. “Are you doing this on purpose?” “What ever do you mean?” you smile coyly, voice laced with innocence. 

His hands travel your waist and then he licks the shell of your ear, making you visibly shudder.  “Changing your clothes knowing I can walk in on you any minute, not wearing anything underneath that shirt last night and now this? You must be desperate for me,” ”P-please,” you stutter suddenly hyperaware of how his dick was so straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. “Please what?” he challenges “Please make me feel good, daddy?” you say.

Mark throws his head back and groans. He picks you up and sets you down on the floor near the couch. Mark spreads his legs apart, cock even more visible, so visible you could see the slightest hints of it throbbing.  “Ride my thigh like the good girl you are,” and you follow him immediately. You remove your sweatpants and leave your underwear on, your arousal dripping. You grip his shoulders as you rock back and forth on his thigh. You two were both moaning at the friction, it all felt too good.  “Fuck, I’m going to come,” at your statement, Mark slips to fingers inside your panties and began fucking you with his fingers. Soon enough, your orgasm came and you melted into Mark as he praises you. “You did so well baby, fuck,” he comments and carries you upstairs bridal-style.

You whimper as he sets you down on the bed. “Quiet baby, you don’t want to wake Jiji up do you?” and his smirk goes wider as you shake your head profusely.

Mark kisses you for the first time and you swear you could feel sparks ignite both of your bodies. His hand goes to squeeze your left breast as he peppers the right one with kisses. His other hand goes to toy with your clit and it causes your body to spasm. “Fuck Mark,” you moan breathlessly as he pinches your nipple and rubs your clit at the same time. Mark removes his pants and boxers, discarding it somewhere near the door.  

Mark pumps himself a few times before he enters you without warning. You both moan at the pleasure of being filled, completely forgetting that your cousin was sleeping in a crib near you. Mark thrusts at a quick pace and grip the sheets. “You’re so tight baby,” he moans. “Y-you’re so tight daddy-ah- harder please,” and Mark complies. Mark felt you clench and so he asks if you’re close but before you could reply you were already coming. Mark thrusts a few more times before he was finishing too. Mark lays down beside you and holds you close.

“Thank you,” you say looking up at him and he kisses your forehead. Just as you were about to sleep, Jiji cries and both you and Mark grunt and then laugh. 

 --

FRIDAY 

You had Jiji sit on top of your lap while Mark was taking videos of you two. You and Mark had agreed to somewhat date and to take things slow. If anyone walks in on the three of you, you would’ve looked like a happy family. Not that you aren’t, you three looked too cute. 

The door unlocks and reveals the shocked face of your mother.  “Mom?” you say, tone a bit higher than you intended. Mark goes to help life the suitcases your parents bring and also doesn’t forget to greet them. “How was the trip?” “It’s great honey. What about the three of you?” “I’ve had fun with Mark” “Y/N’s lovely, Miss Y/L/N,” you and Mark say simultaneously. Your mother seems to pick up the (cute) tension between the two of you and smiles. “How was Y/N with Jiji?” Mark smiles and tells her all about the adventures the three of you had gone through. Mark bids you farewell and promises to see you again. 

 --

“Bye dear! I hope you don’t mind that Mark helps you out with Jiji?” you shake your head and shout “Not at all! Stay safe!” and Mark enters your home. You jump and he catches you with no trouble, wrapping your arms around his neck you both say, “I missed you,” and you smile as he leans in to kiss you. 

Needless to say, you were happy with the service he provided.    

[thejacketandthehook]

The Art of Pretending 5/?

Title: The Art of Pretending 5/?

Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)

Summary:  Killian Jones needs a family and needs one now. In order to impress his boss, Killian hires a single mother and her son to pretend to be his wife and son for the weekend. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Rating: Teen (for language)

Words:  16,587

Author’s Notes: Hello all! Here is my submission for the @captainswanmoviemarathon! This is based off of the Lifetime movie, “Borrowed Hearts,” starring Eric McCormack and Roma Downey. The movie came out in 1997, and I consider it to be one of the first made-for-tv Christmas movies.

A couple of years ago I was watching it and thought this would be a fantastic scenario for our favorite Captain and Savior. I wrote it and then stopped, and then started it again, only to stop again. When I saw this movie marathon, I knew instantly this was the movie I wanted to do and I wanted to make sure that I finished it this time.

I hope you enjoy it!

A30

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

And because she asked, @kmomof4. I’m so glad you’re enjoying this! 

“So it has come to our attention that perhaps a dinner between the three of you would be a good idea.”

Emma looked over at Killian who was looking up at Regina, like an obedient student following the teacher’s instructions. She then looked over at Henry, who was playing with his napkin. Okay, maybe he wasn’t playing with it as much as he was trying to get it to lay smoothly across his lap.

“Great idea,” Emma replied looking up at Regina. And it was a great idea, honestly, when David first brought it up to her. This way they can take care of all the details. All the small things that form when people spend a lot of time together, hashing out the particulars.

And the fact that they were eating hamburgers at Killian’s fancy ass dining room table made the whole juxtaposition that much funnier to Emma for some reason.

“I agree,” Killian piped up, taking the napkin off the table and placing it across his lap before reaching for the mustard bottle. “This way we can—”

“You like mustard on your hamburger?” Emma asked, probably more forcibly than she should have.

Killian looked at her before he finally grabbed onto the bottle. Opening it up with one hand, he replied, “Aye. Is that a deal breaker?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I just don’t think…I’ve ever met anyone who prefers mustard on their burger as opposed to ketchup.”

“I don’t like ketchup.”

Emma was squeezing the bottle itself when he made that declaration, and she almost squirted it all over herself. “How can you not like ketchup?”

“I just don’t.”

“I thought that we could discuss other kinds of details about ourselves,” Regina sighed, “then what condiments you liked on your food.”

“Right. Okay,” Emma replied placing the bottle back on the table before putting the top bun on top. She passed the bottle to Henry, who took it gladly. “So. What kind of questions?”

“How long have you two been married?”

“Ten years,” Killian replied at the same time Emma replied, “Twelve years.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “These are the kind of details I’m talking about, Ms. Swan.”

“Mrs. Jones,” David piped up, his mouth full of burger.

“What?” Killian asked, leaning forward.

“You’re not going to be ‘Ms. Swan,’ for the weekend, you’re going to be ‘Mrs. Jones.’”

“Oh,” Emma took her glass of soda and quickly took a sip. Why the idea of losing her last name (even temporarily) was something that made her want to blush was not something that she wanted to think about too deeply. “‘Course, yeah. Right.”

“Is this a problem, Mrs. Jones?” Regina asked pointedly.

“Nope. No problem at all,” she weakly responded.

“Do I have to change my name?” Henry piped up.

“Only for the weekend,” Regina said a nicer tone. At least Regina was nice to her kid, Emma thought. She had that going for her. “For that one weekend, you’re going to be Henry Jones. Is that alright?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, sounds good.” He then took a bite of his burger, the ketchup falling out of the other side. “What else do we need to know?”

“Okay,” Regina looked at Henry before giving an almost warm smile. “Henry, where was your favorite vacation?”

“Disney World!” he replied happily, bouncing in his seat. “I met Mickey Mouse and Peter Pan and Cinderella!” He then jumped up out of his chair and held out his arm, like he was holding a sword at the end. “Peter Pan was standing in front of the sign—”

“Adventureland sign,” Emma added, giving a small smile to Regina and Killian, who, she couldn’t help but notice, was intrigued with her son’s story and was actually looking at him when he spoke.

“Right, that sign. Anyway, we were walking along, and Peter Pan came out and said to me ‘Any pirates come this way?’ And I—” He looked at his mother, not sure on how to continue. “Mom? What did I say?”

“You cried, Henry,” she said with a chuckle. She looked at the adults at the table and informed them of the details Henry was leaving out. “Henry was like three at the time, and Peter Pan came out of nowhere. He got scared.”

“Oh, right. I got scared.” Henry sat back down before picking up his burger. “Anyway, I liked Disney World.”

“Okay,” Regina smiled before looking at a notepad next to her plate. She was using a knife and fork to eat. Figures. “Let’s see. Now, you should know some details about each other. Just in case.”

Just in case. Emma has heard those words so many times over the course of the week she’s ready to scream. “Like what?”

“Family.”

Emma gestures to Henry. “You’re looking at it.”

“She means more than that, love,” Killian piped up, before sipping on his rum.

“I’m not your love,” she replied more harshly than she should have. “And that’s it. Just Henry.”

Killian looked at her, his eyes wide before asking in almost a dumbfounded way, “You don’t have anyone else?”

“Mommy’s an—” Henry starts to say before Emma cuts him off.

Emma, herself, however, looked down at her plate and asked, “Do we really need to get into all of this? I thought this Mr. Woodman guy was only staying for forty-eight hours. I don’t think he needs to know my life story.”

“Normally, I would say you were right, Emma,” David says as he wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin. “But we want to make sure that we’ve covered every spot. That includes,” he pauses before looking at her, “backstories.”

“No.” Emma puts her napkin next to her plate. That’s all she says before she pushes back her chair and gets up from the table, walking towards…well, she’s not really sure until she feels the cold air biting at her cheeks and realizes that her thin long sleeve shirt is not appropriate for the outdoors in December.

But she can’t do this. She can’t have a virtual stranger know her story. No way. Yes, she’s attracted to Killian, she won’t deny that. But one kiss in the badly lit hallway does not mean that he gets to know her story. That he gets to know her. Besides, after the weekend is over, Henry and Emma will walk out of Killian’s life, and this Mr. Woodman guy will never see either of them again. So why does everyone need to know her story for one lousy weekend?

“My father abandoned my brother and I.”

Emma quickly turned around and saw Killian leaning against one of the pillars leading up to his front door. He was so casual about it, she was sure that she misheard him, because there was no way that he just—

“What?”

He looks up at her before straightening himself and walking closer to her. “My father abandoned my brother and I. I was seven years old when I woke one morning and he was gone.”

Her mind is racing from the conversation inside and now this one, that she shakes her head because she just can’t keep up with these conversations. “That’s, um –”

Because what do you say in reply to that?

“I’m telling you this,” he says, taking a step closer, though remaining a distance away from her, “because I want you to know that you don’t need to share your story if you’re not comfortable. I get it. I had a horrible childhood, but I don’t think Mr. Woodman is going to quiz us about it.” He pauses for a moment before saying, “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Killian—”

“I know that I’m asking a lot, but knowing your backstory…that’s obviously private, and I don’t need to know it for this weekend. So,” he shrugs, “we make something up. If you want.”

“Make up my backstory?”

He nods. “Yeah. In case Marco asks. I don’t think he will, but you know. Something for us. Just in case.”

She huffs. “I’m so sick of those three words.”

He chuckles. “I know. Me too.” He looks at her for a second, and Emma thinks about that night, two years ago. It was clear that they made a connection, even if it was just lust. But it seems that they’re making another one right now. “I can’t do this without you. And I know you’re getting paid, and I know you don’t feel right about it—”

“Oh, I’m definitely taking your money. There’s no way that I’m not.”

He shakes his head with a small smile. “Of course. But you need to be comfortable about this.”

“Just like you need to be comfortable with your furniture being moved around,” she retorts.

He stills for a moment, asking, “How did you…” He sighs. “David.”

She nods. “Yeah, he and his wife are not great at keeping secrets. FYI.”

“I hope they can keep one for a weekend,” he mutters.

Emma crosses her arms, rubbing them as she says, “I’m sure they can.”

He looks at her for saying, “Bloody hell, you must be freezing.” Before she can say anything in response, he takes off his zipped up sweater and stepping closer, places it against her shoulders.

“You don’t have to—You’re going to be cold.”

He takes a step back. “Ah, the cold doesn’t bother me.”

She shakes her head before replying, “Okay, Elsa.”

He grins. “That’s my sister-in-law’s name.”

She smiles now, like she can’t believe it. “Get out. I didn’t think there was anyone actually named Elsa.”

“Oh yeah. When they met, my brother asked her if she wanted to let it go.”

She starts laughing before saying, “Oh God, no! He didn’t!”

“He did!” he laughs along with her. “She almost punched him! I was dying.”

“And she married him?”

He smirks. “Well, the Jones Brothers have a way with the ladies.”

She snorts as she shakes her head. “I think you just think you have a way with the ladies.”

He takes a step closer and gives a wicked grin. “I have a memory from two years ago that disputes that, love.”

Emma looks to side and scoffs, hoping that he thinks the redness in her cheeks is nothing more than the wind. Clearing her throat (and her mind from the memories from that night), instead she replies, “Listen, I’ll help you out. ‘Cause I’m nice like that,” she gives a big smile and he grins back. “But my private life is that. Private.”

“Duly noted, love. If he asks, and he won’t, but if he does, just make something up.”

She agrees, muttering a “Yeah,” under her breath. She looks back at the house and sees Henry looking out the window. She gives him a small wave, and he waves back before she turns to Killian. “Thanks. For coming out and for…” She clears her throat. “I’m sorry. About your dad. That…that sucks.”

He breaths out heavily before looking away, putting his thumbs through the loopholes of his belt. “Thanks.”

He holds his elbow out for her to take and leads them to the door as he says, “Oh, by the way, my favorite color is blue. Just in case.”

Emma chuckles and for the first time this began thinks that maybe everything will be alright in the end.

~*~

Marco Woodman was due to arrive by Friday, December 20 at 6:00pm local time. Killian kept looking at the calendar. It was Thursday, December 19, 9:00 am local time and Killian has already panicked. This was going to end in disaster. He just knew it. Not because of Emma or Henry, no. Of that he was certain. He has spent the equivalent of six hours with them (more than that if he counts how much he and Emma have messaged each other), and he knows that he has nothing to worry about when it comes to either of them. Henry’s a great kid and Emma…

No, he’s not worried about them. He’s worried about himself. Killian may be a lot of things, but he does not like to lie or be deceitful. What you see is what you get, that’s Killian’s motto. He may have some skeletons in his closet, to be sure, but nothing that would be deemed absolutely horrible. Mostly bad mistakes and things he wishes he could have done differently.

But this whole situation with Emma and Marco…He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like lying. He’s sure that he will be the one to mess up; he’s so sure that he’ll say or do the wrong thing and blow his chances of ever getting to run the corporation in London.

33 hours. But you know, who’s counting? :p

Killian smiles at the text from Emma. Ever since her minor…well, panic attack basically, she’s gotten a tiny bit more open with him. And he likes it. She’s funny, and incredibly intelligent, and….

Well, it’s nice having someone in the same boat as him. True that she doesn’t have the same outcome as him, but she’s also pretending here. Anyway, it’s just nice having someone in his corner.

He types back. Aye. Not like anything big is happening, right?

I think the Mets are playing

Love, I don’t follow baseball, and even I know they don’t play in the winter.

Argh! I was trying to go for a joke

Anyway, Henry and I will arrive tomorrow at your place at ETA 4:00

You can’t get there earlier??

Dude I have work and he has school. You’re lucky it’s 4:00 and not later

Please don’t be late.

I’m going to ignore that because we haven’t been late once

How come you end every sentence with a period? You know you’re not writing a paper right?

Because I like it.

Period.

Weirdo

He laughs before putting his phone back on his desk. His secretary, a young man named Arthur who, while good at his job, needs to learn the meaning of the word ‘humble,’ pops his head in. “David is here for you,” he says.

Killian waves him in and Arthur closes to door behind David. He looks back to make sure the door is closed before asking, “You ready for tomorrow?”

He nods. “Aye. I believe so. I’m so bloody nervous, though.”

David laughs before sitting in the seat opposite Killian. “Why?”

“Oh, it’s just my future on the line, nothing more.”

“Killian, they’re going to be fine.”

“I know.”

“And so are you.”

He pauses. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

Killian releases a breath before looking at his watch. “32 and a half hours to go.”

“Stop worrying. It’s like a damn rocking chair.”

Killian raised an eyebrow. “Mate, you’re going to need to explain that one.”

“Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but you’re not going anywhere.”

Shaking his head, Killian gets up from his desk and walks over to the filing cabinet. “Well, thank you so much for that bit of fortune cookie wisdom.”

“Sure.” He’s quiet for a second as Killian gets out the file he needs. “You know I’ll be there every step of the way. Regina too.”

“Regina better be there. She’s the reason I’m in this mess.” He turns back around and walks over to his desk.

“She meant well.”

“I know.”

David sighs before asking, “33 hours?”

“33 hours.”

~*~

Killian looks at his watch. It’s ten past 6 on Friday, December 20, and David messaged that they were on their way back from the airport, but just got stuck in traffic.

The house currently smells like cooked meat and spices, and while that smell usually makes his mouth water, right now it’s just making his stomach turn.

He’s barely gotten a second to talk to Emma or Henry, since they were both taken immediately by a team that Regina hired to “spruce up their imagine,” whatever the hell that meant. They were currently upstairs in her guest room, doing God knows what, and all Killian can think about is that Emma and Henry both looked fine the other night.

When Regina comes down the stairs, she looking at her phone and how she doesn’t trip is something that is beyond him. “What’s going on up there?”

“Just making them look like they are a family that has money,” Regina replies nonchalantly without looking up.

“They were fine the other night.”

That makes her look up at him. “Killian, I hate to break it to you, but you have money. Your “wife” is supposed to look like she shares that money. Rich wives don’t weather red leather jackets they found at Goodwill.”

“I like the red leather jacket,” he mutters.

“And when it’s Sunday night, by all means, you can tell her. But for right now, she needs to look a tad more elegant.”

“And Henry?”

She shrugs. “He wants to talk to his mother about something.”

“Does he look elegant?” he asks, stressing elegant like it’s a word associated with horrible bodily functions.

“He looks like an eight-year-old boy. He’s fine.” Her phone beeps and she immediately looks down at it. His phone beeps too. His stomach sinks and his heart pounds. His head is rushing from the amount of bloody pumping into it (maybe? He’s not sure.)

She clears her throat before lifting her head. “He’s here.”

Killian nods and tries to remember how to breath. This was such a stupid idea.

Regina walks towards the door.

He never should have agreed to this. He should have told the truth from the beginning.

“Wait!” he shouts, just as she’s about to put her hand on the doorknob.

“What?” she hisses at him.

“The ring!”

Regina’s hand drops towards the pocket of her pantsuit. “Shit, I have it somewhere,” she mutters before pulling out a silver circle. She walks back over to him and grabs his hand roughly and tries to get it on, but he mutters, “Wrong finger, wrong finger, wrong finger!”

“God!” she huffs before shoving the ring in his hand. “You do it!”

“Thanks,” he mutters as the doorbell rings. He quickly put it on the correct finger and fixes his suit (Regina insisted) before he walks over to the door. “Show time,” he mutters before he throws open the door.

“Mr. Woodman! Welcome!”

[badbookreviewclub]

Compete Review - Stones to Abbigale, by Onision

Disclaimer: This review will contain spoilers… if you haven’t already watched the seven billion book reviews there are for Stones to Abbigale. I won’t be linking to where you can buy this book because I don’t want to support Greg… James… whatever the fuck he’s going by now. If you look hard enough, you can find it for free online. 

Stones to Abbigale is the first book published by Onision. I’m sure we already all know about Onision and how horrible he is, if not I highly recommend going to Youtube and watching The Right Opinion’s videos on him. They’re very enlightening as to the kind of person that Greg is. Anyways, this review isn’t about Onision (kind of), it’s about his book. I couldn’t figure out where the book was published, aside from a small stamp at the very last page just saying it was published via Amazon.

The Summary: There isn’t one. Fuck. The Characters: James - Simp who likes to act like he’s the hero, but also the victim. Definitely Onision’s self-insert.

Abbigale (Abbi) - A very traumatized person who is written very poorly

Jason - The jock who’s there to make James look like the victim but also the hero

Davis - a character who has no impact on the story and could be completely written out. His presence affects nothing. 

Ms. Robertson - The school counselor who could never actually be a school counselor Mr. Hanson - The history teacher

The Problems: Aside from a multitude of grammatical errors and some spelling errors, this book is just a mess. The characters are incredibly inconsistent to the point of being unrealistic (e.g. one moment Jason is the bad guy and the next he’s James’s best friend). Actually, in general, none of these characters are realistic. It’s really easy to read this story in Greg’s voice because it all sounds just like him. They speak with the same mannerisms that he does and like they all read a psychology book in fifth grade and now they think that they know everything about people and how they work. It’s annoying and incredibly frustrating, actually. 

Another big problem that this book faces is that everything is written in big blocks of text, without regard for needing commas or periods. This makes reading dialogue incredibly difficult and at times can make it really hard to decipher just who is talking. I’m convinced after reading Stones to Abbigale that Onision doesn’t know what the enter bar is. Take this for example, “As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look, as I normally didn’t walk her that far, I said, ‘Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you, we have the same class now.’ She replied, ‘Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick.’ I said, ‘Not if you drop Mrs. Stanley.’ She pushed me playfully saying ‘Jealous!’” Let’s split the dialogue up now (and add in proper punctuation. 

As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look; I normally didn’t walk her this far. “Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. We have the same class now,” I said. “Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick,” she replied.  “Not if you drop Mrs. Stanely,” I said. She pushed me playfully, “Jealous!” 

This is a lot easier to read and aside from word choice, it’s not terrible. It could paint a picture a lot easier with better word choice, but this is Onision’s first book so I guess I can cut him a tiny tiny tiny bit of slack on that. Actually, no. This could use better word choice to paint a better picture and make them seem less like cardboard cutouts. 

Another problem is the plot itself. The ‘climax’ of the book, if you will, happens almost at the beginning of the book, which is fucking absurd. It makes the rest of the book feel pointless and like it’s dragging on. 

The Book: 

Chapter 1

We meet our main character, James. Except we don’t know his name is James yet. We do know that he paints his walls, his ceiling, and even his bedframe a startling white however because he “likes to inflict mental torture” on himself. Not sure why he does this, but he does. I think I’ll be the first to say that in any white suburban neighborhood, you could walk into just about most children’s rooms and find white as the standard (at least, that’s how it is in my neighborhood). Why? Fuck if I know. White just looks nice with most furniture, I guess. 

Anyways, our main character is late to school and rushes out the doors with a note he scribbled for an excuse as to why he was late. Yay, we finally get James’s name from Mr. Hanson, who couldn’t give less of a shit that James was late. He just wants to talk to him after class. James starts people watching to an almost creepy extent, trying to get into people’s heads and assuming what they were thinking. If you haven’t read any of my other reviews, you should know, I am not overly fond of when someone tries to assume someone else’s thoughts in this way. Where they psychoanalyze them without have a single hint of qualification. It’s annoying in storytelling. That’s not to say I’m not guilty of having a character do that at times, but I’m trying to be more aware of it and to stop writing like that. With how James is written, however, it’s clearly intentionally and gives off r/im14andthisisdeep vibes. 

Anyways, James rushes off to art class so he can see Abbi. He has never talked to Abbi a day in his life but spends a lot of his time thinking about her and wanting to be with her and basically, just being a simp. He puts too much value on Abbi without ever having talked to her and having no reason to do it, his world revolves around Abbi and she has never so much as shared a word with him. 

But he’s basically staring at Abbi, waiting to say something to her when his hand brushes up against some chewed up gum under the desk and he yells ‘EW’. This doesn’t stop Abbi from wanting to pair up with him however when the teacher gives them an assignment they need partners for. Abbi was originally paired up with Jason, who I guess makes Abbi uncomfortable. That’s understandable that Abbi would want to switch if that was the case, but Onision doesn’t lay it out like that. Instead, it’s laid out that Abbi wants to be paired with James just because. 

Abbi has shown no care for James at the beginning of the book and seemingly before this even started she never seemed to care for or about James. Suddenly though, as soon as the story starts, she cares. She wants to, needs to be with and around him. Why? Because the main character always has to get the girl. 

Anyways, Abbi gives James a piece of paper with ‘NISEONE’ written on it. Apparently, this is her phone number because, on a number pad (the ones with the letters), it is 647-3663. It doesn’t state this outright, so it took me looking at some other reviews before I figured this out. 

We also learn in this chapter that the school is practically falling apart and is dripping with sludge or mold, or something, so I don’t know what kind of school James goes to, but it’s not a good one.

Chapter 2

James goes and talks to Mr. Hanson and it turns out that Mr. Hanson wants James for a TA position. Because ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? I guess James shows a lot of potential, even though he’s late like… all the time. Anyways, the night before Abbi and James decided to make, not a Frankenstein(‘s monster) teddy bear by combining two of their stuffed animals, rather, they’re making a zombie stuffed animal. And it turns out that Abbi wasn’t at class. For what reason? I don’t fucking know. The next day Jason comes to bug the class for some fucking reason because he got kicked out of his own class. There’s absolutely no reason for Jason to be there aside for James to stand up to him because Jason was ‘bullying’ Mr. Hanson. Anyways, Jason gets pissed off because of this and while James is on his way to the art class, Jason beats James up. I’m pretty sure this was only done to make James look like the victim (wonderful :P). James gets suspended for two days because he pushed Jason and Jason is suspended for nine days. 

Before he can leave to go home, James sees Abbi and Seth having what I can only assume is a one-sided fight. Seth is yelling and being very aggressive towards Abbi, and Abbi is just taking it. So James walks her home after Seth gets pissed and leaves. I guess it was raining this entire time, so as they’re walking home, Abbi’s makeup runs and James sees the bruises on her face. When Abbi asks if James sees them, he says “I see a beautiful girl, who I very much enjoy walking with in the rain” (pg 31) (by the way I HAD TO NUMBER ALL THESE PAGES MYSELF). Anyways, cheesy romance, it’s clear Greg doesn’t read his lines out loud and I don’t think James does a single thing to try and help Abbi get out of her abusive situation. He just tells her that she’s beautiful. James is also absurdly upset about the suspension at this point. Like, ridiculously upset. Like you love school so much and the thought of not being able to go feels like the end of the world upset (I was that person in school). But… James has shown absolutely no reason for why he is as upset as he is? Like he genuinely is about to cry over this but he has shown absolutely no care about school before, so it’s just confusing.

Chapter 3

James has a dream that Abbi is being eaten by the ground. He wakes up and writes her a kind of creepy letter about how, despite having only had three conversations with her, he loves her and lives to be with her. He emails it to her and a few minutes later Abbi calls him. She wasn’t aware of the email but invites him to meet her at the Quick Shop. She says that she’ll read the email before she meets him there. She never meets him there (shocker). Chapter 4 

James finally goes back to school and sees that Abbi isn’t in the art trailer still. But the mishmash stuffed animal bear thing is there. Under it is a note from Abbi asking James to meet her behind the church. Rather than stay for the class or anything like that, James bursts away to go to Abbi’s side. 

Abbi tells James that the note weirded her out a little bit, but she was just nervous. She tells him that she has been absurd by Seth and that her mother abandoned her and that her father doesn’t care about her. The only comfort James is able to offer her is that every time he sees her, she’s more beautiful to him than she was before. 

Chapter 5

James’ Mom has a boyfriend who comes out of fucking nowhere named Rick.

At school, James has his schedule rearranged so he can be Mr. Hanson’s TA and so he can still have a class with Abbi. Now he has gym with her. We meet Mr. Mack, who I guess is Jason’s uncle. He’s also the only teacher that James bonds with, I guess. Ms. Robertson, while reorganizing James’ schedule gives him an ominous warning that Abbi is no good and that he should stay away from her. 

Abbi and James spend the rest of the night on the phone, talking to each other. 

 Chapter 6

A few days have passed. Rick and James’ mom announce that they want to move in together. James thinks his life is over and that he’ll never get to see Abbi again. Later that night James suggests to his mom that she just let him live in the house by himself with Abbi and she just agrees to it. Supposedly his mom doesn’t even have enough money to get him a shitty cell phone either, so I guess Rick must be fucking loaded.

Chapter 7

It’s the infamous school shooting. After figuring out that the school is being shot up by Seth, the bus driver does as any rational human being would do and drives away to get everyone to safety. Then he does something that nobody would do and lets James off the bus after James threatens to jump off (despite there being no way that he could?). James rollerblades to the school through the blur of his tears and bursts in. He sits in the puddle of blood in front of the school to get his rollerblades off before rushing in through his tears to find Abbi. He finds Seth first, but rather than being the one to save the day, it’s Jason who saves the day and beats the shit out of Seth. James finds Abbi after this and the two of them sit together while the paramedic patches up James’ feet because he ran through glass while looking for Abbi. Chapter 8 

They’re back at school and a spokesman for the president gives a speech. They see Mr. Mack on a projector and he tells them in gruesome detail about how he tried to take down Seth and how Seth shot him. Definitely what a bunch of traumatized teenagers needed to hear and see. Chapter 9 James and Abbi go to her house, where Abbi’s father drunkenly stumbles out and starts threatening Abbi. A policeman who James claims probably sees too much of this on a daily basis stands to the side (because he just so happened to be nearby with is K-9 partner) and waits for something to happen. Something happens with Abbi’s father smashes James over the head with a beer bottle. The K-9 rushes forward and latches on to him and James claims that the officer is sadistic and likes to see people suffer. He then claims not even two paragraphs later that the cop is numb to what’s going on. Which is it? Is he sadistic or is he a dead-beat cop who sees too much of this shit? 

Abbi’s father is arrested and James decides to press charges. This is how Abbi ends up staying with James. 

Chapter 10 

The president shows up and nothing comes of it. He promised that he would answer everyone’s questions and talk to everyone. He only talks to two people, James and another kid, named Chris. Chris just asked why the president was such a D-Bag and the president just says “that’s President D-Bag to you.” James asked what the president thought of what people said about him and the president goes on this long diatribe about freedom of speech. 

Chapter 11 

Abbi wants to talk to James but insists that they do it in the shower. For some reason, James agrees to this and Abbi comes out of the shower to show all of her self-harm scars. Once again, James does nothing than tell her she’s beautiful and that’s about it. They almost fuck after this, but don’t because James’s mom is home. 

Chapter 12 

James and Abbi stay home to help his mom pack. Later they go to the park to stargaze and affirm to each other that they want kids. 

Chapter 13 

Abbi leaves James a big long note for him to read in class about how she was raped by some boys. Mrs. Roberston helped to get those boys in jail, but after finding out that Abbi was pregnant, she insisted that Abbi keep the baby because she is very pro-life. Seth found out about the baby and punched Abbi in the stomach until she miscarried. James’ response to the note is to go straight to Abbi’s classroom and make out with her in front of everyone and on the desk. He goes back to history class and Mr. Hanson basically high-five’s him for doing this, despite the fact that he walked out in the middle of class to do it. 

Chapter 14 

It’s Christmas break. They fuck. 

Chapter 15

James beats the shit out of Jason because Jason was groping Abbi. For some reason, when the principle comes out to confront everyone about this, Jason doesn’t rat on James.

Chapter 16

While driving somewhere with James and Abbi, Davis rushes out of the car into the middle of the freeway because he sees a man hanging from a rope from an overpass. Davis is killed. This is the only purpose that Davis serves in the entire story. It’s to die so James can be the victim once more because apparently if he was never born so he could never be in Davis’ life then this would have never happened. Survivor’s guilt is a thing, don’t get me wrong. But what Onision is using here isn’t survivor’s guilt. It’s James twisting the situation so he’s the victim still. 

Chapter 17

Davis’s funeral. Nothing happens besides James playing the victim some more. 

Chapter 18

Mr. Hanson and Mrs. Roberston confront James and they want him to become Class President. James doesn’t want to but it doesn’t seem like they’ll take no for an answer. A little while later Abbi, while walking with James, is pulled into the front office for some questioning by police. Mrs. Roberston shouts in front of everyone that Abbi was responsible for the school shooting. Because… you know… that’s a reasonable thing to do…

Abbi confronts James later that night and tells him that she wrote in a note to Seth, when she was in a really bad place, that she just wished everyone would disappear (not unreasonable and something I’ve done before). James, being the little bitchy drama-queen that he is, storms off to take a dramatic shower. While sitting in the shower though he realizes that Abbi did nothing wrong and comes back. Abbi immediately accepts him again and isn’t upset that he suddenly stormed off after she told him something rather hard for her to do. They make out (and probably fuck).

Chapter 19 

Abbi gets a bucket of paint thrown on her while she’s coming into the school and James punches the kid who did it. The principle shows up and both intimidates and threatens the kid who threw the bucket of paint. He also calls Mrs. Roberston into his office after James tells him that she told everyone that Abbi was responsible for the shooting. 

Chapter 20

Mrs. Roberstson was fired and burned down the entire school in retaliation. All the students get passing grades for the rest of the year (which is about 6 months of school left by the way). James ends off the book by saying “Well, I guess this means I won’t be running for President.” 

The book drags and has a lot of pointless info in it. At one point it genuinely made me feel sick how he was using Abbi’s trauma throughout the book to write a very, very poorly conceived hero fantasy. All the characters are unrealistic and nobody means anything to the story other than Abbi and James. I’m just glad it was a fast read. There are huge info dumps in the beginning, but as you can see, the rest of the chapters can be summed up in less than a fucking paragraph. The climax of the book comes way too early (the school shooting) and in general, it’s just a poorly written plot. It feels like a first draft that should have been taken back to the drawing board to be reworked until the shooting could become the ultimate climax of the book. It was rushed, and because it was rushed, the rest of the book dragged on. 1/10 stars. I didn’t hate it as much as I’ve hated other books, but it wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination. 

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Blight | V

BTS

Jeon Jungkook/Reader [F]

Genre: Dragon/Shapeshifter AU, Magic AU, Enemies to Lovers

Words: 5k

@tamedandscripted @syubcandy @cencoroil @kathrynwynterbourne @fireflower90 @bluegreenguppyfish @queen-pharaoh-hatshepsut @mygukandonly @ms-bookdragon @leemarkeurii @seaofsunbeams @astronomyturtle @v-reallife

“Y/n,” Jungkook called as he grabbed your right hand with your tattoo below your palm with his own left tattooed hand.  Holding it tightly he slumped over, putting his forehead on your shoulder as he sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of resignation, nor was it a sigh of someone who was being forced into a situation.  It was a sigh of comfort in which he breathed.

“Y/n,” he repeated as he held your hand in his own,  “I’m ready to be your Familiar now.”

XXX

“What?” You asked in a small, whispered breath.  Were his head not on your shoulder with his ear so close, you doubt he would’ve heard you at all.  “You’re ready- I- what? What do you mean?” You stuttered around your words, suddenly becoming far less fluent in the language you were speaking since you were young.  Jungkook remained silent as you soon grabbed his shoulders and pushed him off you, tearing your hand out of his grasp in the process.

As you held him away from you, his eyes seemed almost glassy.  Did admitting- saying that- make him emotional?  Did he regret it? Or was he lying to you and he couldn’t hold back? You retracted your hands slowly from his shoulders, dropping them to your lap.

“You’re a liar,” you accused.  Jungkook stiffened as he took a sharp intake of breath through his nose.  

“I’m a lot of things, Y/n,” he started with a firm voice, “but I am not a liar,” he defended himself.

“No. No, just- no.  You hated me two days ago.  So, you can’t just-”

“People’s minds can change.  Mine did.”

“Jungkook-”

“No, listen to me.  I mean it, Y/n. I do.”

You just huffed as you brought your hands to your face. Feeling the fabric of your bandage on your face, something occurred to you.  Sparked to your mind. “Jungkook,” you called as you lowered your hands from your face slowly. Your gaze locked onto your palms as your hands hovered in the air. “Are you just saying all this because of this,” you gestured to your bandaged, covered and infected left arm.  “Is… is this all just pity from you?”

Jungkook didn’t speak.  He wanted to refuse immediately, but his throat locked up.  It was like something had cursed him into silence when in truth it was just his conscience halting him and his words.  He wanted to deny it, wanted to say it was his own decision and now the fact that you got hurt that changed his mind. However, if he took a step back, that’s really how it appeared.

Jungkook’s attitude only changed on the courtyard, after you lost consciousness as your blight worked its way into you.  He changed when he carried you into Parrish’s medical room. He changed when you woke up and Yoongi was scolding you and he felt relieved.  He changed when you went to dinner as a group and he finally got to see you smile and actually talk to him as Jungkook, but not as the snotty, stuck up dragon-shifter.  Was it all for pity?

He shook his head.  No. Surely it’s not, it’s his decision and while he knows you’re injured, it wasn’t his fault.  There wasn’t anything he could’ve done to stop what Zaros did, and furthermore, there was no cure for a blight.  In this situation, he couldn’t do anything. Nothing but accept that he is your Familiar.

“It's… not pity.  It's not,” he whispered to you and to himself as well.  You doubted him and he could feel it. If he were you, he’d doubt him too. “Please trust me and listen.  I- yes maybe I felt bad when you got hurt, but that’s not the reason I’ve finally come to terms with all of this.  I’ve- for the longest time- hated Spellcasters and their system with binding a Familiar.”

“Yes, I’m fully aware.  You made that clear to me anytime you saw me.  And I mean anytime. You’d kick sand at me if you walked by me or called me something rude if you just barely saw me across the halls.”

Jungkook slightly winced.  Looking back on himself now, he really was horrible.  “I’m sorry about all that,” he mumbled.

“All is forgiven,”  you said calmly. “I didn’t help by adding fuel to the fire that was our relationship.  I was just as crude and uncivil towards you, so it balances out to a clean slate.”

Jungkook smiled small as his gaze lowered to the floor.  He sighed as he continued to try and convince you of his swapped opinion towards you and the both of your immediate partnership. “I always thought that Familiars were just an easy way out for your kind, so as someone who worked hard every day to get to where I am now… I don’t know, it just pissed me off.  They pissed me off.”

You tried to catch his eyes, gaining eye contact would help him try and defend himself and yet there he sat, next to you staring at the floors of this empty, locked classroom.   “So, you’re saying something changed your mind?” He shrugged before he nodded, an very unsure gesture to be fair. An equal action of ‘sure, that’s what we’ll say’. “What was it?”

Jungkook finally raised his head, connected his dark eyes with your own.  He could almost see the magic behind them, sparkling like pure energy. He had no doubt you could see the fire his eyes that flicked at the edge of his irises.

“You did,” he stated much bolder than before.  “I saw everything between you and Zaros,” you gasped lightly when he mentioned your father by name.  “When he froze everything. When he scolded and scorned you. When he cast that spell and how you tried to explain that the reason you came to him alone was that your Familiar didn’t want to be there at your side.”  He took a breath, “you got hurt because I was too afraid and stubborn to realize that not all Spellcasters are like that. You aren’t, and I don’t think Yoongi is either.”

Jungkook lowered his head towards you, placing his hands on the floor as he bowed deeply to you.  “I’m sorry for judging you all this time when all I’ve been is wrong,” he apologized. You panicked as you yanked the back of his shirt to sit him back up.  Your cheeks were flushed when he looked at you, clearly embarrassed from the public display of such a fond apology. He chuckled as you looked to make sure no one was peaking in any windows to see him in such a state.  

The renown wrestling team captain who literally throws men twice his size from wall to wall without breaking a sweat, bowing his head to the floor at an injured, blighted Witch.  It was a joke if it were to be seen for sure.

“Jungkook,” you started, “I’ll think about it.  I’ll give you time to really think over your decision.”

“I don’t need any more time.  I’ve thought it through already.”

You sighed as you stood up, Jungkook quickly following suit.  He stood above you as he watched as you smoothed out your clothes and grabbed your bag.  He watched as you rubbed and messed just slightly withed the edges of your bandage.

“Regardless, I’ll make sure that no one finds out about you being bound, especially to me.”  Jungkook furrowed his brows. “It’s a well-known fact that you don’t like me to the rest of our two buildings.  Not to mention your pretty infamous for being that one student who swore up and down he wouldn’t accept a contract.” He lowered your arm as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll think of some story to figure out so people won’t bombard you with questions.”

You turned your back, flicking the lock on the door open to step out before Jungkook yanked on your bag.  Letting out a small squeal, you stumbled backward a few steps before your bag was taken from you completely.  Whipping around you already had your mouth open to yell at Jungkook.

“Hush,” he told you as he set your bag on a desk and stripping himself of his hoodie.  Pulling it off his back, over his head and letting the sleeves drop from his arms, he held it out and practically tossed it onto your head.  Acting like a dog who got a blanket thrown over him, you swatted at the fabric and pulled it from you, leaving you a mess far to be desired.

“Just what is your problem?!”  You hissed as you held the hoodie he threw at you.  

“Your arm’s bothering you and it’s already been changed for the day.  So, cover it up. That hoodie isn’t very thick so the fabric shouldn’t mess with the bandages.” Jungkook took your bag back and held it at his waist, waiting for you to put the hoodie on.  With your bag held hostage, and the waiting glare in the eyes of the half-dragon, you merely sighed as you slipped the clothing over your head.

It wasn’t so much heavy as it was big, cover your arms and going well past your fingertips as the hoodie itself engulfed you.  Though, you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face with how warm and comfortable it was. Jungkook quickly took your right wrist with his left, the same wrist that had his Familiar tattoo inscribed on your skin.  

“I’m fully prepared to be your Familiar.  When I say that, I mean it. I have no intention of hiding it or keeping it a secret should anyone ask me about it.  You shouldn’t feel the need to lie for me when I have no future intention of doing so.”

“Jungkook-”

“Furthermore, as your Familiar, I have a condition to watch over your well being. That includes making sure your magic isn’t overused.”  

You scowled at you as you rotate your wrist out of his grasp.  

“I’m not some doddering old lady you need to babysit.  I can take care of myself and contrary to what others think, I am capable of living without using magic.  I’ll be fine, so lay off.” Jungkook sighed. Your stubbornness was to be expected. What with how your previous interactions always were, this was at least a small step forward away from the past.  

He cupped his chin, trying to think of a way to get you to trust him.  He wasn’t lying and he really was willing to try and put in the effort to make this partnership work.  He just needed to do something grand enough to show that he trusted you so that you can trust him in return.  

He grumbled silently as you held your hand out for your bag.  He just shook his head as he handed it back to you, but only after an idea sparked into mind.

“After school, I wanna show you something.”  You raised your brow at his sudden smile and excitement.  “I have a secret place that I want to show you. It’s a place that no one knows about and I go there all the time to get my bearings.”

“Okay?  Why do I need to go?”

“So that you can trust me.  If I take you to my secret place, I obviously am willing to work together.”

“You’re awfully pushy about all of this.”  You sighed in defeat. “Alright, we can go to your hideout.  But only after school.” He nodded as he tossed your bag to you and trotted to the door, opened it before walking out.  You followed suit, shutting the door behind you before heading off in the opposite direction of Jungkook. Thinking about it, he had no reason to be in this part of your building.

How did he know you were even in that room?

XXX

It was already mid-afternoon when your classes had finished for the day.  With a stack full of spellbooks to research and study as well as homework from the day of casual classes you missed, you walked around the halls mindlessly as you dreaded unloading your bag when you dragged yourself back into your dorm. Where Yoongi would no doubt absolutely refuse to help you with anything.  A true snake.

You sighed as you heaved yourself to your locker and spun to lock dial to the left, then to the right and left once more before you unlatched it and swung the metal door open.  Tossing in your unneeded books and papers, you grabbed your essentials for home when your locker was then slammed shut. Nearly slamming your fingers in the metal door as you quickly yanked them back and out of the way.

Half expecting Jungkook to be the culprit, you opened your mouth ready to spout off some dragon related insult, but it died before it rolled off your tongue.  Before you were Elias, the student council president, and quite the royal pain in the ass. Inspecting his nails as if he had just lifted bricks instead of slamming your locker door- he seemed passive.  

You bit your tongue, keeping your composure as you turned to face him fully.  Arrogant or not, he was older than you and he technically was superior in regards to you and your standing in your division. Even if you were both B Ranks in your respective species- he was the student’s guide post; somehow.

“May I help you with something, Elias?” You bit back the sarcastic tone just begging to leap right out of your throat.  

“Perhaps,” was his dead, unamused reply.  He seemed so bothered like you sought him out instead of the reality being him stepping into your space and bothering you.  If he would just mind his business his attitude could be avoided. You just wanted to tell him to buzz off in all honesty. “I hear you’ve sustained a pretty nasty blight there, Salem.”  

You nodded as you unconsciously recoiled your arm back into the overgrown sleeve of Jungkook’s hoodie you still wore.  “I have. In the skirmish the other day, I got a bit too tackless and my actions wound up costing me.”

“I see.  You’re recovering well?” His tone couldn’t sound less caring if he tried.  He obviously didn’t want to be here in your presence, and the feeling was mutual.  He could be on his way any time now. The sooner the better.

“I am.  I’m receiving oversight and proper treatment. As well as I plan to have medical follow-ups weekly.”  You- giving up on the idea of getting back into your locker- slung your bag around your back and hoisted it up onto your shoulders.  “Is there anything else you’d like to speak to me about. If not, I’m quite busy. I have someone waiting for me as well as many assignments and spells to practice and study.”

You politely gestured to him as a means to get away and made it as far as his right shoulder before he grabbed you.  Yanking your wrist, he pushed you against the lockers, pinning your left shoulder down as he hardened his hand into stone.  

As a Gargoyle, he can solidify and stone any part of his body at any given time.  He can even become a living statue for a time if he wished. He had you basically tacked to the wall like a piece of paper to a cork board. You winced as the pressure his hand was pushing into your shoulder.  It made your bandaged, left art twitch, just itching to use magic to overpower him, but you didn’t. You had more self-restraint than that.

He lifted your right wrist up to his face, pushing your sleeve down as he inspected your Familiar tattoo.  His grey eyes narrowed as he twisted and rotated your wrist as he scanned your wrist like a barcode. You winced when he twisted it too far and pinched your skin between his fingers.  The halls had nearly cleared out, only a few people here and there but none would willing to intervene.

It was Elias after all, they couldn’t do anything even if they wanted to.  It didn’t help the slight annoyance bubbling in your gut though.

You felt your pride burning into your head as it nearly pushed you to cast a spell just strong enough to throw him back into the wall across the hall- maybe through it if it was cast carefully enough. You were at the edge of doing so, sparks of magic crackling at your fingertips when someone yanked Elias off you instead.  

Confused for a moment and slacking back against the wall without something pinning you, you nearly lost your balance from his rapid separation.  Elias, staggering backward was soon wincing as his arm that held you previously were now pinned behind his back.

Jungkook- with a frown etched into his face- pulled on his arm, pinning it on his back as he held Elias’s collar from the back, keeping him away from you. Jungkook stepped and mosied around to where his back was towards you and shoved Elias in the opposite direction.

The Gargoyle nearly tripped forward as he regained his balance and whipped around angrily to glare at Jungkook who just rotated his shoulder, you behind him.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” You whispered to him but didn’t reply to you.  He just kept his sights on Elias as he stood back up to his full height and shook out his arm, trying to will away the pain. “Jungkook?”

“I’ll ask you once to keep your hands to yourself,” Jungkook declared as he stared Elias down. The two were both stubborn, hard-headed and arrogant.  At least Jungkook was able to bend down to a level of agreement most cases- even if he complained. Elias was no such man, he was as proud as the rock he could kick around the courtyard.

“I do hope you're not threatening me, Helios,” Elias sneered.

“And if I am?”

Elias only scoffed as a sly- seemingly upper handed- smirk grew on his face.  “Since when did the one infamous Shifter on campus who refuses to have anything to do with Spellcasters decide to protect one?  Really, are all reptiles this way?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw.  “Just once I’d like to knock you through the roof,” Jungkook muttered as you placed a hand on the center of his back, trying to calm him down.  He didn’t need to start a bigger scene already.

“You’re taking this far too seriously- almost personally.  How precious,” Elias teased.  You don’t know why per se Jungkook was acting so chivalrous- and though you greatly appreciated it, things were looking to get worse before better. 

“I have every right to take it as personally as if you were assaulting me directly.” Jungkook rose his wrist up, keeping it clear in Elias’s sight.  “If you continue to berate and antagonize my Master I’ll be forced to soundly take immediate- unpleasant- action.” Jungkook turned slightly, grabbing your hand that once rested on his back.  “Heed your actions, I’ve warned you once. There will be no second time.” Jungkook tugged you off down the hall, leaving Elias behind as he stomped away.

As you mindlessly let yourself get pulled along, Elias only scoffed as he then turned and went to be on his way.  Only to be stopped, frozen in his own shadow when Yoongi rounded the corner when you and Jungkook were well on your way out of the area.  Yoongi with a twisted smile on his face painted in annoyance with Jimin at his side with a scowl.

Even Elias felt fear, and Yoongi hit that fear on the head like an almighty hammer.  

“Let’s have a little chat,” Yoongi purred as Jimin even felt a shiver going down his spine.  Yoongi was nothing short of sadistic.

XXX

Jungkook had dragged you to a vacant hall of the building just before stepping outside.  He stopped as he kept a hold of your hand, turning to you and scanning your face that was etched in complete confusion.  He could see your mind whirling around what just happened and why. He slapped your forehead.

“Don’t think too hard.  Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he jested with a smirk.  You snapped to as you gasped and slapped your hand out of his own, face flushed in embarrassment and annoyance. He chuckled as you took your hand and slid it into your sleeve, hiding it from sight.  He took notice that you were still wearing his hoodie he gave you this morning. “You kept it on?” You look at him, a scowl pouting on your face. He reached and grabbed hold of the fabric of the hoodie, tugging a bit.  “The hoodie. I didn’t think you’d actually keep it on. I mean, you were more than allowed to take it off and throw it away when I left.” He smirked as you swatted his hand off of the comfortable piece of clothing.

“I- that’s not important right now,” your scowl softened as you looked at him.  “Listen, rumors are bound to spread about you being my Familiar now.”

“It’s not really a rumor if it’s true though.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? Even a little bit?”

Jungkook cupped his chin with his finger as he thought for only a few- almost comical- seconds.  “It doesn’t.”

“You say that with such confidence,” you deadpan as you quirk an eyebrow at him.  He smirked.

“That’s because I am confident.  My choice is final and it’s not going to change.”  He held out his left, tattooed, wrist. “I’m yours.”  You sighed in defeat. He put his hands on his hip as he huffed.  “Right, on to what we should be doing.” You looked at him as he turned and ran a bit away from you, telling you to stay put and that he’d need some room.  Only getting more confused, he turned back to face you- only yards away now. “I’m going to transform, try not to be too impressed!” He shouted as he cupped around his mouth.

“You’re going to what?!” You panicked as the earth began the smallest of tremors and the wind shifted. The smallest shine of a physical aura surrounded his body as the wind became visible and surrounded him in a cloud or whirlwind.  Holding your hair out of your face, you watched the wall of wind expand and grow larger and large. Growing tall towards the sky and wide to fill the area you stood in.

Soon, the wind began to break, small snippets opening to reveal scales and claws before dispersing with a gust strong enough to start you stumbling backward.  Once calm, it seemed as though the wind from before almost never happened- it was so silent. Silent save from the heavy breathing hovering high above your head.

Looking up with wide eyes, you saw the dragon that was once Jeon Jungkook.  A might dragon he was. Scales shining enough you could almost use one as a mirror.  He was giant, standing as tall as a three-story building and although he took up a grand amount of space, he was a slim dragon.  His tail whipped behind him, thinning to the barbed point at the tip. His wings were flat against his back and you could hardly make them out with them so well hidden when not in use.

Lowering his head towards you, his giant golden eyes took up the mass of your torso.  His three-horned head was almost intimidating- if you hadn’t known this was also the same geek who ditched class because he didn’t feel like attending. His claws at the base of his hind and front legs were massive, it was easy to see why Dragons became so endangered and protected in the past.  You could think of a lot of people who’d want something so rare and sturdy to create weapons and armor. His scales could easily be sold to a noble home for women to marvel at.

He opened his mouth, his fangs on display easily the size of your body. You could see the ridges of the tongue that sat still in his mouth- the same tongue that appeared to be more blue than pink.  

His entire color was a soft auburn, something you thought fascinating.  If you looked at it just right, he almost appeared the softest shade of red.  

“Are you going to gawk all afternoon?” You screamed as you jumped, no expecting him to be able to talk. His giant jaws didn’t even move as you heard his voice echo.  It almost sounded deeper? Perhaps the change alters the vocal cords, it would make sense you supposed.

“You- you can still speak like this?!” If he were in his human form, he would’ve rolled his eyes.  

“More telepathy than speaking. Now get on and hold onto one of my horns.  You’ve got a long flight ahead of us.” He lowered his head further, resting his jaws on the ground as his reptilian-like eyelids flickered with blinks and his black slit pupil shrunk and enlarged in his golden eyes.  

“Just… climb on?” You asked as you stepped towards him and placed your hands on the side of his head.  His scales were cool to the touch- at first at least. Once there a moment, you could feel a warmth run through his rough skin and into your own.  You had no doubt that was the fire in his soul that allowed him such a grand transformation.

“Yes.  I won’t let you fall, I promise.”  He chided with a deep, dragonesque chuckle.  You mocked him as you slowly- and as carefully as you could- climbed up onto his neck and crawled up to the crown of his head where you wrapped your arms around a horn of his.  It was about as thick around as a tree that still had half its life left to grow. It made wrapping your arms around it and interlocking your hands to secure yourself a great deal harder than you thought.

As a second-hand precaution, you made sure to lock your ankles as you wrapped your legs around the base of the horn as well.  

You jumped as Jungkook slowly started raising his head higher and soon you were above the trees and your sights grazed the top floors of the school.  The sun that slowly began to dip became warmer as the shade was eliminated from the equation altogether. You felt his shoulders move as you looked behind you, eager to see him spread his wings.  

When he did- when you saw how the sunlight hit them so that you could see the slightest outline of muscles and veins in his grey wings- you smiled in fascination.  

Maybe he was pretty cool but damned if you were going to tell him that.  

With a gust of wind as his two wings rose and pushed down, you closed your eyes as you held tightly onto his horn and soon you felt yourself and Jungkook rising.  Before long, he was hovering at the very top of the school and peeking over you could see the smallest outlines of people below, marveling at the dragon.

“Hold on,” he told you before he started off.  Higher and higher going past the campus, onwards past town and into nowhere you knew.  Soon, he even moved where you were fighting the best kind of chill as he flew you both through the cloud and soon even above him.  

The romance stories you’ve read never prepared you for the glory and pure beauty of the way the sun created so many pastel colors and how they blend into the sky and reflected in the clouds.  It was like you were part of a painting created by an artist known the world over.

It was so strange to touch a cloud and have your hand past right through it, whipping around the vapor filled cloud.  In cartoons, clouds always remained it’s puffy, cotton ball shape. This though wisped right through your fingers and felt like silk on your skin.  It was chilly but in the best possible way.

“It’s so beautiful,” you whispered to no one- not even yourself.  Maybe it was just your mind slipping out of your mouth subconsciously.  Though, whatever the reason behind your words was, it kept the fire in Jungkook chest burning as he took below the cloud not soon after.

You peeked around the horn that you held and saw him approaching a mountain top.  Typically speaking, going the steady route he was towards a peek of a mountain that clearly wasn’t going to move for him would be pretty anxiety-inducing.  Though, as you got closer, you noticed the peek was actually open and before long, he was arching and diving his way down.

His wings folded far closer to his body as he nose-dived into a cavern of rock and you held onto his horn for dear life as the free-fall took momentum. You ducked as lower as you could to prevent yourself from being flung right off him, eyes tightly shut.  

You squawked when you heard his wings open suddenly as the air caught them and suddenly you weren’t diving down some hidden, mountain top cavern.  Instead, you were hovering, basically floating in the air.

“Hey scaredy cat, open your eyes now,”  Jungkook spoke to you as you clicked your tongue and bit back at him.

“I wasn’t scared of anything!  I was worried about dust or rock.. getting in my… eye,” your voice that was biting and stern softened to a whispered as you looked below you.  It was a vast jungle, green and luscious and filled with life.

The waterfall Jungkook knew so well, the lake of healing properties.  The mysterious island with the throne and arch to match. The trees, weeping with greens, purples, and blues thriving and the echos of all the creatures and animals that lived here.  

This was Jungkook’s secret place, but he decided that he should learn to share some things- even if with just one person.  Who better to share with than his Master.

-TBC-

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Danny takes a look in the weapons vault for something useful, Tucker gets some info, and Sam has a moral debate in her head instead of out loud.

To say that the situation between Danny and his parents was tense would be to say that space was a little dark and a touch chilly. Ending an argument by passing out was dramatic, yes, but not conducive to following that argument up with maybe something calmer, more reasoned out. On one hand, Danny was never going to be reasonable about the idea of committing genocide on the dead, a feat he was almost entirely certain was impossible and yet even if it was possible, it would be akin to setting off all the nukes on Earth at once. It was a horrible idea, and if he thought about it any further Danny knew he was going to start causing things to float and go icy cold and dark. He may have accidentally frozen part of his room when he got home from the hospital.

So, instead of asking his parents ‘hey Mom and Dad, have you made any tools or weapons to expose a shapeshifting ghost?’ like he would’ve in the case of a slightly less tense relationship with his parents (he could see the threads that bound him to them, and they were strained, thinner than before, and that frightened him), Danny had to check himself. Which meant going into the kitchen and heading through the door, down the stairs and ignoring the second flight of stairs that’d lead to the lab (to the portal, to his Death, to his Undeath, to all the hurt he’d ever experienced compounded over itself all at once). He instead kept going down a hallway, one that held two doors, both sealed up. One was the Cursed Artifacts vault, and it didn’t surprise Danny that he could see light pulsing at the edges of the door, calling out to him in a way that he could see but not hear and yet knew was a cry all the same.

“I bet there’re dolls in there. Not even because they’re actually cursed but because they think they are.” Instead of finding out how cursed anything in there actually was, Danny turned to the other door, opening it up and looking out across rows and shelves of weapons. The walls were honeycombed with drawers like file cabinets. The ones that were open were typically the more experimental ones, while the rest were connected to the Portal Pockets so that they could be summoned on the fly whenever needed. Checking over the experimental shelves, Danny tapped his fingers against his arms and legs, trying not to think too hard about any of these things being used against him.

“The Fenton Ghost Gloves,” Danny read from the notecard written in his mother’s patient script. “When activated the gloves release a steady current of metaphysical energy (hereby referred to as ecto energy) across their surface, facilitating tactile interaction with a ghost regardless of the ghost’s selective tangibility. Concept derived from the Specter Deflector™ as suggested by Tucker Sazad Foley.” He put the card back and sighed. “Not what I needed but good to know about. Maybe Tuck and I can make some of these of our own - if it’s in the experimental phase then it’s fitted to Dad.”

Danny walked over to the Next New Thing. He groaned, running a hand through his hair and tugging on the curls. “Looks like we need a new mixer. That was mine! Just cause Mom can’t make anything but cookies or fudge doesn’t mean that they should just. Argh.” He huffed and then picked up the card for whatever his precious mixer had been sacrificed to make. “The Fenton Ghost Peeler. Oh, wow, they couldn’t get a potato peeler for this one? Capable of… stripping a ghost layer by layer, peeling them like an onion, so as to weaken it for capture or for examination post-capture. Yikes.” Setting down the card, he picked it up and examined the buttons, keeping the obvious business end away from his face. “That sounds painful, probably even sadistic, but I guess this is what I’m after.” He pocketed it, placing it not with standard weapon storage but his own private little pocket that only he had access to outside of emergencies.

Making sure the door was locked, Danny walked to the stairs and ignored the plethora of colors radiating from the tiny seams of the Artifacts vault, and the star-like pull tugging him downward, deeper, toward a world still unseen. He had this world to worry about, and the next one could wait.

Flying his way to Agatha’s soup kitchen would’ve been faster than using his skateboard but if Hunter had taught him anything, being subtle could be a life or death thing. With that shapeshifter on the loose, Tucker felt being subtle was the right path to go down while alone. Tucker moved with an ear and both eyes open for trouble, which he felt like he was going to get. When he got within 2 blocks of the kitchen, however, that feeling vanished, replaced with an acute awareness of how hungry he was and how little ectoplasmic food Danny had eaten. That surety that he was being watched and hunted faded away and Tucker stopped, looking around. “Note to self, shifter won’t approach Agatha’s territory.”

When he actually got there, the volunteer at the door was one of the same ones who had to be convinced to let Agatha in without calling the Fentons. She had dark skin, bright brown eyes, and long curly hair done up in a bun. She smiled when she saw him, waving. “Hi, there! Tucker, right? You were one of the kids that brought Aggie to us?”

“Yeah, though most people call me TF for Too Fine.” He shot her a pair of finger guns with a grin and a wink, not even flinching when she laughed at it all. He was hardly serious about that right now, and even if he were everything took time.

“Kid, I’m 21. That’d be the creepiest thing under the sun for me to call you.” Tucker laughed with her then and they shook their heads together. “What can I do for ya?”

“I uh need to speak with Ms. Reece. If she’s available.” Tucker knew he wasn’t Danny and that Agatha had no explicit reason to talk to him, but he hoped that his being best friends with the kids who’d gotten her into this place would be enough. He wasn’t a researcher on Sam’s level but he knew she’d need some description beyond ‘malicious supernatural entity’ to figure out what Spectra was.

Daisy - and that was her name, he remembered now - blinked and shrugged before patting Tucker on the shoulder and leading him over toward a door marked Staff Only. “You wait here and I’ll see if Aggie can meet with you.” Tucker nodded and leaned against a wall, scrolling through his phone and looking over Spectra’s staff profile again. His eyes narrowed at the mention of an assistant, wondering what a school counselor needed with an assistant.

Before he could look into this Bertrand Baxter, however, a white holographic head poked through the door and Tucker jumped to attention, Wrist Ray™ aimed and charging. He took a deep breath, put away the weapon and offered a shaky smile at Agatha, who managed a sheepish one herself. “Sorry about that, child. I’ve just been in the habit of it and everyone round here has gotten used to me doing that. How are ya deary?”

“Hello, Ms. Reece,” Tucker said with a wave. “I’ve been better. And you?”

“Oh, I’m doing well! I just wish I could do more.” She frowned. White rippling edges began to tint green. “So many people are out there just like these dears, who can’t get a good meal.”

Tucker frowned as his brain worked double-time to figure something out. He didn’t want Agatha to grow unstable and dangerous because she realized the limitations of being in one place. What did he learn by proxy as Danny’s best friend? Ghosts can do things to satisfy their desires in efficient ways on scales grand enough to terrify. They curse objects to spread their malicious machinations beyond their haunts do things they normally can’t. They- “What if… you made lunch boxes that always restored themselves? Always have a healthy meal inside of them? Then you can give those out to people all over as fast as you can make em, and feed just about everyone.” Tucker had no clue if she could even do that but he dearly hoped so. Not only because he was worried about his own immediate safety - though he was - but also because if she could do that and managed it, then that would be unbelievably great for pretty much everyone in the world. He may not have Sam’s grand, overarching passionate goals as he was very much grounded in the real world not the ideal one, but ghost powers made everything possible.

In any case, Agatha stopped turning green. Instead, for a moment, Agatha didn’t look like a ghost the way Tucker knew them to look. Her skin was a warm brown, her uniform pink and white with thick yellow rubber gloves and her eyes were full of life in a way that Tucker hadn’t ever seen in her or Sydney.

For a moment, Tucker got a clear glimpse of what Agatha was like when she was alive.

She flickered back to that holographic quality and beamed at him. “Oh, Tucker! That’s a wonderful idea! I’ll get to work on that in my Cafeteria! But you came for more than solving my problems, didn’t you?”

“I’m happy to help, Ms. Reece, but I did need to ask you about someone.” Tucker cleared his throat and braced himself. “Do you know about Penelope Spectra?”

Agatha’s hair ignited, eyes turned into red pits of fury and her body shone lime green. “What bout that ishka? ” Oh, Tucker almost disliked that icy cold tone as much as he did the sound of Agatha’s fiery and immediate rage.

“She isn’t human, but she is back at Casper high and Danny, Sam and I need to know what she is to get rid of her.”

“ Hod that filthy, joy suckin- ” Agatha went on a list of what Tucker could only say were old Minnesotan Not Swears. He was impressed that she was refraining from swearing up a storm with how long she went on, but a lack of lungs made ranting names about someone pretty easy, he guessed. “ -get back without my notice? ”

“You were a touch busy with us,” Tucker soothed. “Do you know what she is?”

Agatha took a breath and closed her eyes, the fire that was her hair snapping around waspishly. When she opened them they were focused on Tucker like a microscope. “The Infinite Realms are called that cause they’re endless and infinite. Every kind of world you can imagine and all the ones you can’t exist, and some of theirs end up here. Spectra ’s from what ya call the Abyss. The Ocean of Dark.” Agatha shuddered.

“ Penelope Spectra is a rippling, inky darkness that pulls your greatest fear, your greatest sorrow, the darkest worst thing within you that you resist day after day, or even that you don’t up to the surface. She makes you face everything you think is wrong with you, even the tiniest flaw in the back of your head that you know better about yourself, and spits it back at you with all the force of a wave crashing down and drowning you in misery and self-doubt. And then she feeds on it like a festering parasite.” Agatha’s face twisted up in disgust. “ She is suffering and fear and misery, and she wreaks it upon her victims to feed herself.”

“That’s… quite the description.” Tucker didn’t dare take his phone out to take notes just yet, all too sure that’d look like disrespect to the ghost.

“That Ishka got me and half of the school killed! I’m bein rather generous in how I call her.”

“Understood.” Tucker nodded and took a step back. “Thank you for your help, ma’am.”

“And thank you kindly for the idea, Tucker. Stay safe and aim well.”

“Damn, that’s a description,” Sam muttered, pages flipping in her hands and herbal tea resting half drank next to her. She was slowly recovering from both a bug that seemed to be going around and the drain from her spell. Still, she had a feeling that unless she found some powerful artifact straight from the Infinite Realms it was back to her martial arts and Fenton Weapons for all defenses. Fine against a meathed like Dash, but not so fine when it came to dealing with an emotional vampire.

“It sounds to me like she blames Spectra for what Sydney did,” Danny said, “Which is probably something Sydney might need to hear. After all, if Spectra’s track record is something to go off of then…”

“Let’s save that for later, please and thanks.” Sam sighed. “I don’t need to think about that right now. What I do need to think about is… aha! Alright, thanks to a bunch of internet searches and checking through a few translated books, I think I have an idea of what Spectra is.” She finished her cup of tea and made a face at the strong taste. Regardless, it should help. “Agatha said something about the Dark Ocean, right?”

“Yup.”

“So, while she could be a few things I think the closest match is a Fomorian from Irish myth. Seafarers from the Middle East that came to Ireland centuries before Tuatha Dé Danann arrived there. The Tuatha De Danann are gods,” she answered before Tucker could finish asking. “With our admittedly limited knowledge on ghosts, I’d say that a group of monstrous entities from a dark ocean finding their way here through a portal of some sort and becoming part of legends makes sense.” Sam sighed, leaning back against her wall of fluffy lavender pillows. “If the Infinite Realms are really that and beings from other realms can just make a portal here whenever they feel like it, how many myths, legends, and religions can be traced back to something from another realm hopping over to Earth?”

No one said anything for the longest moment and Sam sneezed into a tissue. Tucker cleared his throat and pushed through a near palpable wall of awkwardness that Sam had established. “What kind of things do the myths say we need in order to hurt her?”

“Well, fighting a Fomorian effectively sort of requires you to use a magickal weapon of some sort. I’m pretty sure that magick is just ectoplasmic energy at this point, so we’re good there.”

“Now we just need an excuse for me to shoot a staff member with an experimental weapon made by the town crazies.” Danny huffed and Sam sucked her teeth at that. How would they corner her without anyone stopping them? Finding her at night sounded like a horrible idea if she was from the Dark Ocean, and dealing with her during the day likely meant at lunch, which would mean the entire school would be available for her to use against them.

Tucker grinned on her screen and puffed out his chest. “Well, that part’s actually covered by Spectra’s own bullshit planning. She has an assistant registered with the school, and you’d think someone with such great planning skills wouldn’t have an assistant with living family members come with her to the school where his grandson goes to.” Sam’s eyes widened and she leaned forward as Tucker sent a link and a picture of a man captioned as Bertrand Baxter. “Yes, that Baxter.”

“Holy shit,” Sam whispered. “All we need to do is get Dash to expose his grandfather as dead and we’d have Spectra dead to rights as either an accomplice in a haunting that’s been hurting the school at the very least. If we can line up the shot right we-” Sam cut herself off with a violent fit of coughing and sneezing and leaned away from the screen with the force of it all. Once she was done attempting to cough up her entire lung, Sam wiped her face with a fresh tissue. “Ugh, I guess I mean if you can line up the shot right. I feel utterly useless like this.”

“Well, if it’s alright I may be able to help with that.” Sam didn’t have the energy to jump like her body wanted to, but she did turn quickly to see Sydney Poindexter floating sheepishly in front of her, head turned to look off into the nearest corner. “I uh. I’ve always wanted to be a nurse, and after you and Danny showed that he can heal people with a little effort, and after a little talk with Jazz, I thought maybe. Maybe I can try? I have more energy to spare, at the very least.”

For a second Sam considered telling Sydney to leave. After all, he’d flat out admitted to what the rumors about him had stated: he snapped and shot up the school. That was inexcusable. And yet, a soul-sucking misery demon looking to feed on every ounce of negative emotion that she could had been an influence, hell might’ve even been the whole driving force. And Sydney had basically been put through torture before and after. Part of her felt that he should be pushed away, shoved in a thermos and returned to the Realms and the other remembered that Agatha, one of his victims, blamed Spectra for what happened to him. Sam would’ve let this moral debate in her head go on forever if she could, really.

But then her lungs had another fit and she decided that pragmatism won out here. So she held out her hand and sniffed when she could. “Go ahead, not like this can get any worse.”

Sydney beamed, his form sliding further into focus and opacity, and he took her hand. His tongue stuck out of his mouth as he concentrated, so much like Danny she wanted to laugh. But then she felt how different from Danny he was. Danny’s energy was vast light bright protection and Sydney felt more gentle cautious guilt warm soft in a way that Sam was hard-pressed to define. But then that warmth spread slowly and steadily through her body and it was like a fever but five times as intense. And then the energy cooled, stealing away the extra heat to soothe her, and Sam felt bone tired. Her sinuses were cleared and all that, she could almost certainly tell, but she was so tired . “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I guess I was able to knock out your flu but you’ll need your own energy to handle any sort of restoration?”

“Let Sam rest a couple days, Syd,” Tucker said at the edges of her awareness. Sydney pulled her up in her bed and her protests died on her lips as warm comfy blankets were tucked around her. “We’ll take on the shadow lady when we’re all at 100 percent.”

“Fine, I’ll rest, but I want a new weapon to compensate.” With that demand gotten out, darkness overtook Sam and the sound of Tucker instructing Sydney on how to turn off her laptop correctly faded out.

[simplelinesunfashiond]

Okay so...This got out of hand length-wise. I haven't really written for modern day Book 3 yet. But behold. Under the ominous eye of the Court, a Lord's heir improvises some intrigue to assure his and an ally's safety. AKA, Sydney may not trust Anderson far as she can throw him, but he helped her escape a crazy lady's plan to marry her off for politics, so she owes him one. And thus, the third spoke of the Triangle resolves itself in crisis management and snarky banter.

Sydney had seen him in a number of crises before, but never his own. 

She had always thought he looked young, but had guessed that was just what he was. Now she wondered. His parents, his older siblings, they had that ethereal look, they were timeless, but they weren't like him, or Eva. She could tell they were adults. She could also tell from the way the Court talked to them how much younger the twins were than the other immortals of their kind. In a way, she felt guilty for not questioning him sooner.

It had taken some effort to get things under control. Anderson was small, but not small enough to be manhandled easily when he was panicked, slipping in and out of reality and conciousness. Now, she was sitting on the cold tile, out of his line of sight so as not to startle him when he came to again. Her legs were freezing against the floor, no thanks to the dainty half-sheer toga she'd been dressed in for some stupid ritual she didn't understand. She'd managed to get Anderson's jacket bundled up under his head, hoping that would make things more comfortable for him, but she was starting to regret not borrowing it. All things considered, this certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd woken up on a bathroom floor.

When he did start to come around, it was slowly this time. No inherent panic. No fight in it. He stretched himself out, touched the floor - taking inventory of any injuries, she guessed - and eventually looked up, and then over at her.

"Ms. Thompson. Fancy seeing you here."

"You scared me," she admitted. He scoffed. "No, really," she said, a little too loud. "I may not like what you did back there, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to worry when something like...that happens." She scooted closer to offer her hand, but he sat up and made no effort to move any further for the moment. He looked around, she guessed taking stock of just where he was, and then gave her a curious look. It struck her that he might not remember everything. "You were...panicking about something. Then you passed out. Got sort of sick when you last woke up, so-"

He cut her off with a gesture, and a grim nod.

"What was that?" Sydney asked. She suspected she already knew. "What happened?"

"Just ghosts of ghosts, my dear," he said. She took that as confirmation. "I didn't try to fight you, did I?" She shook her head, and he seemed to relax a little. It wasn't entirely true. He'd tried, a little, but he hadn't managed to best her so it didn't seem worth upsetting him to mention it. He took a deep breath, then stilled, confusion written on his face. "It smells nice in here. Familiar. But nice familiar."

Sydney nodded, and got to her feet, stiff from sitting on the floor for too long. "I may have used some of our new pull around here to make a few requests. Lavender, chamomile, rose, and vanilla. Something the Daughters of the Sun seem to favor." She jerked her head to indicate her project. The pleasant scent rose with the steam from the suite's ornate bath.

"You're joking," Anderson said, as he hauled himself upright by the marble countertop, ignoring her offered hand again.

"It seemed like something you would like. And you were sweating buckets, so you could probably use it." If he was feeling himself enough to diss her attempted niceties, she wouldn't worry about cushioning her words.

"And you intended to be present for this?"

"If you passed out and drowned, I'd have to hear about it." His shoulders shifted slightly. A tinge of a laugh. So, things were okay, now. Back to normal. Or, as normal as this situation could be. "And besides, they...sort of think we're engaged."

"I really didn't think it would be that easy to convince them. People see what they want to see, in the end." *Your father, you mean?* she wondered, and rode the awkward silence for a moment.

"Well, I know what I don't want to see, so no worries, I won't peek." She turned her back, as exaggerated as she could in the Daughters' horrible silks. It earned another shadow of a laugh, and somehow, she felt like that was more of an accomplishment than anything else she'd pulled off that day.

The cold hand on her shoulder jolted her, but it was gone again in an instant.

A jumbled apology followed it, without a real explanation, but the tremble in the touch stuck with her. She let the thinnest thread of Light extend to touch him, to verify. He wasn't quite recovered from whatever he'd seen while he was out. He wouldn't be steady on his feet for a while yet. He just wasn't going to tell her that, if he could avoid it.

Still with her exaggerated motions of keeping her eyes up, she stepped into the bath, herself, arm extended to give him something to grab for balance.

He didn't have to ask her what the hell she was doing; the question was plain in his hesitance. Then, he sighed in resignation and let her pull him into the water.

"It will ruin that fabric," he pointed out.

"Good riddance, it's awful. Don't the Daughters ever get cold? Or need to go outside? I have done all my practicing so far while wearing pants, and I promise it has had no affect on my ability to use their magic."

"You're being awful nice for someone who doesn't trust me," Anderson said, then. He let her guide him by the upper arm until he was leaned back against her shoulder. She considered what to say to that. Even if they were back to their normal banter, it didn't seem right to remind him how little of a threat he really was like this. The hot water was slowly abating the shivering, but a sharp chill still jolted through him every so often. 

She raised her hand, letting the Light pool in her palm. She knew she couldn't heal someone's mind with it. He had taught her that. He had taught her everything she knew about Light, really, but that had been so pointed when he said it. She realized what that meant, now. *Don't waste your energy trying to fix me. I will either heal one day, or I won't.* She resisted the urge to press the magic through his temple, to test it herself. She had to trust him on that, at least. If it could have been done, he'd have done it by now. Instead, she wrapped her arm across his chest, letting her hand come to rest on his shoulder. There was no work done, no prodding examination, no Light sinking in. She just held it there, let it rest against slowly warming skin. *A nice sort of familiar*. He had taught her his style. His mother's style too, she guessed, and his sisters'. He leaned into it.

"If your goal is to put me to sleep, you're doing well."

She shrugged, jostling him just a little. "You probably need it. You've had a long day, pretending to want to marry me." *Facing your father, and the Shades, and the woman who banished you*.

"You really wouldn't want to marry me, anyway, there'd be nothing to gain from that."

"That's true."

He stopped, and sat up enough to shoot her a look. "Really? You're just going to agree with me?" He huffed, and turned back to settle against her again, arms folded in defiance. "I mean, come on, that's preposterous. If nothing else, I'm damn nice to look at." She laughed, ruffled his hair a little, smoothed it down with the perfumed water. "Talk to me like I'm useless. Bullshit. Just because we're not compatible doesn't mean you can't still stroke my ego."

She snorted, and barely heard his melodic giggle over the soft splash of the water.

"You're disgusting."

"And I get away with it, because this accent makes me sound *classy*." He nuzzled into her arm, and craned to look at the point where she held him by the shoulder. "Why did you stop that?"

[flowercoasts]

since seventeen, the kids i’ll never be - a beau gen fic

The Mighty Nein pass through Kamordah and Beau wants to close old wounds.

Read on AO3, or 

NOTES: implied/referenced child abuse, justice and catharsis for beau

words: 5634

~~~

“We’ll pass through Kamordah then.”

Beau freezes, the ball bearing she was playing with instead of paying attention nearly slipping through her fingers as she tenses, her mind racing a mile a minute.

Jester, standing next to her, lays a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”

Everyone turns to look at her. Why does everyone love being nosy? Beau wishes the ground would open up or a dragon would come flying by. She swallows. Her throat is much too dry. “Yeah.” That was raspy as fuck. Beau clears her throat, plasters on her usual half-smirk. “Yeah, just was surprised, is all. This fucker -“ Beau gestures to the ball bearing in her palm. “Nearly dislocated my… knuckle.” It’s a lie. A shitty lie at that. From the looks on everyone’s faces, no one believes her either.

“Will you be okay,” Fjord starts calmly, a look of concern painted into the downturn of his lips, “with us going into your hometown?”

Jester and Nott suck in a breath at the same time and let out little “Oh”s that make Beau feel like hitting something. Not them. Well, maybe Nott, but not Jester. She just really hates being fucking pitied and looked at the way they’re looking at her now, though.

She grits her teeth. “Look. It’s not a big fucking deal. I couldn’t give two shits.” Short and sharp. Caduceus frowns at her tone and Fjord holds his hands up placatingly. Beau sighs, runs a hand through her hair, trying her damndest to ignore Jester’s puppy eyes and Nott’s more-than-slightly disapproving glare. “... Sorry.”

Caleb approaches slowly and smiles at her with so much apprehension that just seeing his awkwardness hurts her. “Beauregard, we do not have to go.”

“There are many paths that lead to the same destination, Ms. Beau.” Cadences sips calmly from his tea, his voice a distant afterthought. “This one happens to be the fastest, but sometimes the fastest things are not the best.”

“Ye-ahhh… what Caduceus said,” Fjord mutters with a side-eye and a raised eyebrow.

Jester touches Beau’s elbow fleetingly, drawing her attention away from concerned gazes to wide purple eyes. “We won’t judge you. Not for anything. You know that - right, Beau?” Beau dryly swallows, her eyelids fluttering briefly at the memory of rougher grips on her arms, the disapproving frowns, the ugly sneers of a disappointed father.

She clears her throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

“Are your parents.. awful people?” Nott questions. Her ears are more alert than Beau’s seen in a while.

It’s slightly weird that it’s Nott who knows the most about Beau and not Caleb or Jester or Fjord, but Beau’s not one to knock another for being nosey and inquisitive. From being a nosey person herself, Beau thinks it’s respectable, if nothing else.

She bites her lip and thinks back to an unhappy childhood - remembering everything from the number of places she left her name etched into old wood to the unrelenting yells of her father. He was never happy with her, no matter how hard she tried. So she stopped trying. Their relationship got worse from there, while all Beau’s mother did was watch uncaringly. She was a bad child. Beau knew that. So yeah, she might’ve given them a hard time and yeah they might’ve caused her emotional trauma to last a lifetime but seriously, it could’ve been worse. Right?

“No,” Beau says finally. Her voice wavers. “I was just a… difficult child.”

Something lightens in Nott’s eyes, like a weight lifted off of her shoulders just by that one sentence. Beau doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or sick. There’s no clear reason to feel sick, though, and it seems stupid to feel that way, so Beau forces herself to feel relieved instead. God, it’s like she’s fucking five. Kamordah sucks. This whole mission sucks.

“Why do we have to go through Kamordah?” Beau finally saunters up to the table in the middle of the war room, finding herself a spot in between Fjord and Caleb while Caduceus pours more tea for everyone on a spot on the table not taken up by the map of the Empire. She glances to the weather-worn yellow paper and finds the image of Kamordah circled in a horribly bright pink ink. It makes her shiver in disgust.

Before she can comment her dislike of the implementation of pink ink on the map, Caleb answers her question. “Well, we need to find Lonardo. He lives just near Kamordah.” He guides her gaze to a point on the map with his finger. “Here. Brightburn Hollow.”

“Oh, Bright Slag? I know that place.”

“You do?” Fjord leans forward in interest.

“Oh yeah.” Beau grins cockily. “I had so many good times there. Used to be a frequent criminal hangout but after the city tightened its leash on patrols it was mostly used for secretive meetings and the occasional fight.”

“And I’m guessing you were a part of them?”

“Of fucking course.”

“Ye-up.”

“So, Beauregard, to answer your question,” Caleb cuts in as Beau’s smirk in Fjord’s direction turns a little too mischievous for his liking, “This Lonardo lives only a 30 minute walk from your former hometown. If it is alright with you, we will be making a short pit stop in Kamordah.”

Beau remembers clenched teeth and stinging slaps and thrown away art projects. She remembers the cutting of hair, the never quite fitting in, the darkness of her room. Beau remembers it all and feels a dull ache in the center of her stomach. By Ioun, she just wants to lay down.

“What the fuck are we waiting around here for then, let’s get a move on!”

~~~

“Ugh,” Beau groans, flipping over onto her stomach and for the fifth time in the past hour: “Are we there yet?”

“Asking every ten seconds doesn’t change my answer,” Fjord calls back from the front the same time that Caleb answers, “30 minutes.”

Beau lets out a long-suffering groan and bangs her head down extra hard on the bumpy wooden floor of their magic cart. Jester nudges the monk’s limp arm with the point of her tail.

“Ow,” Beau mumbles against the wood, not seriously.

Jester nudges her again, this time harder. “Beauuu,” She sing-songs. Beau groans. Another jab, this time at Beau’s side.

“Ugh. Yes, Jester?”

“Why don’t we do something to pass the time?”

“... I don’t trust that wiggle in your eyebrows.”

“Aw, come on! It’ll be suuuper fun!”

“The last time you said that, the guards almost sent us to jail.”

“But there aren’t any guard around right now! And besides, I don’t want to do anything illegal, just something like reading a book like Tusk Love… or something.” The last ‘or something’ comes rushing out of Jesters mouth at the look of disgust that passes Beau’s face.

“Fine.” Beau turns over so she’s laying on her side facing Jester. “What do you wanna do?”

“What about dodge-the-arrow?” Nott pipes up, holding her crossbow aimed at Beau and grinning a little too manically for her liking.

“Uh, pass.” The crossbow lowers, much to Beau’s relief.

Caduceus peers down at Beau from his somehow-still-steaming tea and smiles pleasantly. She tries to mimic it, but her face feels too tight to be correct, so she drops the smile altogether. “When I was younger, my siblings and I would play this game whenever we had time to spare.”

At that mention, Jester shifts closer to Caduceus. “Ooooh! What game? I bet it was something really fun.” Beau questions that assumption but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Well,” Cad starts, eyes alight with reminiscence, “We would count the trees.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Beau half expects Caduceus to keep on talking. He doesn’t. A confused and crestfallen look slowly takes over Jester’s features, but she plasters on a supportive toothy grin to cover up most of the confusion. “That sounds fun, but maybe we could play something else? Just for now?”

That sets Nott and Jester off on a tangent about the best travel games, which then evolves into a conversation about the best shanties and songs and after that Beau stops paying attention. Cad gets lost too, somewhere between the dick jokes and the 88th bottle on the wall.

Instead, Beau looks out at the scenery to pass the time. The trees seem familiar. They’re not quite green during this time of the year, but their bark is still the same. Purple-brown. If they went deeper into the wood, Beau could probably find the tree that she fell out of after carving her name in one of the larger branches.

“15 minutes now,” Fjord calls back.

15 minutes. Just a handful of minutes until Beau is back in the town she spent her whole life resenting - still resents. Maybe even ten minutes after that and they’ll see Beau’s parents. Well. They don’t have to right? They’re just going to the inn, buying rooms, stocking up, and then booking it to their target.

Beau sighs, runs a hand through her hair, and stares out even harder into the passing trees. The cart bobs up and down with the bumps in the road; Beau remembers one time that giants tried invading Kamordah and tore the road up in the process. It took the city years to rebuild, and it seems that they did a poor job at it. One particularly large bump nearly sends Beau up in the air if not for Jester’s tail winding itself around her arm like a safety rope.

“Thanks,” Beau blinks at Jester.

“No problem!” Jester sticks her tongue out at Beau.

She can do this. She has her friends with her.

Her parents can’t do anything against the might of The Mighty Nein.

~~~

Tall stone towers loom above their heads as they pass through the gates of Kamordah. Beau stares at the two lion statues hanging halfway up the towers, their soulless gaze sending chills up her spine.

The guards gaze at carefully Fjord’s arm around Caleb’s shoulders as Fjord and Caleb smoothly explain their previously agreed-upon cover story. When Jester first suggested the ‘honeymoon plan’ with Caleb and Fjord acting as the happy couple, Beau was a little skeptical, but seeing the two now… well, they seem more comfortable than Beau could’ve ever guessed. She cuts a side glance to Jester, wondering if that was her plan all along. If Jester’s ecstatic grin is anything to go by, it definitely was.

One of the smaller guards comes closer to the back of the cart. The four hidden under the cart’s invisibility spell collectively hold their breath, eyes widening in fear. As the guard starts to examine the back more closely, the head guard nods to Fjord and Caleb.

“Let them pass!”

While the others quietly sigh in relief, a heavy knot forms in the pit of Beau’s stomach. The twin lion statues mounted on the wall stare mercilessly at her as they drive past. It makes her just as scared as it did when she was seven and running away from home. Those lions always made her turn back. All five times.

“- do we go?” Fjord’s voice slowly comes into focus, like a beacon slicing through the fog.

“Huh?” Beau wrenches her attention from the uncaring statues watchful eyes to Fjord’s warm golden gaze. He’s looking at her with such a concerned look it makes her stomach churn even more violently.

“Fjord was just asking where we should go, Miss Beau.”

The half-orc in question nods at Caduceus’ explanation and turns around so he’s facing forward again. “Yeah, I just figure that you’re more familiar with -“ He makes a gesture with his hand to indicate the general area.

Beau grunts noncommittal in reply and ignores Jester’s not-so-subtle nudge to her shoulder.

Caleb considers her for a moment. “Should we ask someone, then?”

Scrubbing a hand over her face, Beau sighs. “Nah, I can lead you around. I just -“ She looks out into the street, recognizing some familiar faces walking along the side of the road. Quickly averting her gaze, she clears her throat. “Take a left up ahead and we should come across Greasy Ace Tavern.”

Fjord nods and starts the horses moving again, and the cart slowly ambles down the street with soft clacks that break the morning quiet that’s settled over the thoroughfare. The atmosphere of town creeps upon Beau like a too-heavy blanket. It’s warm, sure, and it’s comforting to know they’re some of the only people up, sure, but Beau’s never known Kamordah to be quiet. It leaves a lead weight in her stomach.

Nott voices her unease before Beau can even think to. “It’s very quiet for a trading and tourist town.”

“Our guy may have something to do with that,” Beau speculates. The others nod.

“Let’s go find out then,” Fjord stops the horses, and all of them step off the cart and into the dimly lit Greasy Ace.

Beau can’t seem to shake the growing unease she feels with each second spent in Kamordah.

~~~

“We don’t have to do this.” A blue hand wraps around Beau’s wrist - a solid presence grounding her against the raging tempest she feels caught up in. Beau’s fist pauses, one breath away from knocking on the heavy wooden oak door that haunts her dreams. The brass lion knocker stares at her unflinchingly.

Another hand, this time landing on her shoulder. Beau looks back and finds warm yellow eyes. Fjord nods at her, the hand on her shoulder squeezing comfortingly. Curling around her other shoulder, Frumpkin butts his head against the underside of her chin and Beau blinks at him, seeing her reflection in his eyes. Flanked by steady walls of support, Beau steels herself, breathes in deep, and raps her knuckles against the door.

It takes only a minute or so for someone to answer, but time could not move any slower for Beau. With each passing moment, the urge to run or hide becomes more and more predominant. Beau feels a restless energy thrumming under her skin, like lightning crackling through her blood. She wants to move. She wants to run. She’s wants to -

“Welcome to the Lionett estate. What business may you have here?”

Beau jumps at the sudden appearance of a well-dressed maid in the open doorway. Dressed in fine yellow and purple fabrics, the maid stares at the group with as much disdain as Beau would expect from a worker dressed in the Lionett’s colors.

“Yah, hallo.” Caleb steps forward, posture unusually perfect and smile a little too sharp. “We’re here to do business with Mr. Lionett.”

If she’s intimidated by Caleb’s towering figure leaning towards her, she doesn’t say anything. The petite woman only narrows her eyes before nodding, once, and opening the door wider for them as she steps back. “You can wait in the sitting room. I will fetch Mr. Lionett.”

They are led through the foyer and down into a room that takes up the left side of the front of the house. Looking around, Beau is surprised to find everything just as she’d left it. Perfect, untouchable, and so very cold. The room is bathed in yellow and purple, a garish reminder of the Lionett’s very coveted social status. A lone lion bust sits alone atop the fireplace, frozen in time with a malicious roar that makes Beau avert her gaze.

While they wait, the Mighty Nein make themselves comfortable. Fjord and Caleb sit primly on the center couch, their postures picture perfect and their faces more determined than Beau’s ever seen them. Jester and Nott peruse the walls, touching everything they can get their hands on. If Beau sees Nott swipe a gold decor piece from the shelf, well. What her family doesn’t know won’t hurt them. On the other hand, Caduceus busies himself with his staff as he sits in the uncomfortable leather armchair that Beau’s always hated.

Jester’s halfway around the room in her tour when she pauses upon reaching the bookshelf. “Hey, Beau?”

“Yeah?”

“Is… is this your brother?” All the air in the room vanishes, leaving Beau cold and tense as Jester holds up a framed picture of a little boy with dark skin, blue eyes, and a wide, innocent smile. Beau can only stare at the picture, unseeing. From their seated positions, Fjord and Caleb share worried glances, eyes darting back and forth between Beau and the picture of the happy boy.

Beau wonders very briefly if the Lionett’s treat him like their only living child - if this kid is given everything that Beau was never allowed to have. “Uh. Not sure. Never met the kid.” Her voice comes out scratchy and distorted. Beau can barely remember the last time she spoke in this house.

“Where are your pictures?” Nott scampers up next to Jester, clinging to the edge of the shelf in order to see the frames on top.

Without even looking at the shelf, Beau frowns. “They probably burned them by now.”

“They wouldn’t… Would they?” Nott’s voice is small and sad. Beau doesn’t want to look at her and see the pity there, so she doesn’t. She scuffs the bottom of her boot against the hardwood floor and laughs joylessly.

“Have you met my parents? They hate me as much as I hate them, if not more. Doubt they kept anything of mine after kidnapping -“

“Beauregard.”

One word sends Beau’s mouth snapping shut. She doesn’t have to look up to know her dad’s in the room - she can tell by the feeling of dread all crashing down at once, like the ceiling’s caving in. One word and her posture is perfect, her arms no longer crossed but straight down her sides. Beau feels like she’s seven again and being reprimanded for snooping around in her father’s office. She hates it. She hates it more than anything. Hates that he still has this power over her just by saying -

“Beauregard.” It’s so quiet. Why is it so damn quiet? God, Beau wishes she would stop being such a pushover and just say something. But. Looking up at him. First step. Yes.

Beau looks up.

Mr. Lionett was never the most striking man, but what he lacked in good looks he made up for in extremely obvious symbols of wealth that he had on his person. A plethora of golden rings glitter on his fingers. Beau instinctively raises a hand to touch her cheek. He always wore a pressed purple suit, which he accented with golden detail. Now is no exception to that expectation. It’s so fucking gaudy. Everyone in Kamordah already knows the Lionetts, there’s no reason to flaunt your status like Mr. Lionett did. It makes Beau want to look him in the eye out of spite.

She gets up to seeing his yellow tie. For some reason, her eyes don’t let her move an inch further, instead fixated on his ugly yellow patterned tie that Beau remembers trying to ruin so many times. That tie got her in trouble. She hates that tie.

“I didn’t realize you would be back so soon.” He doesn’t even try to hide his sarcasm and disdain, that prick. “I shall have the help fetch Mrs. Lionett.” The maid from earlier, standing at attention in the corner, simply turns and leaves the room.

The silence is choking. Beau can’t look anyone in the eye - not her father and especially not her friends. She feels too weak, too vulnerable to face any of them. They’ve killed demons and devils, and her father is the thing that has her scared? Beau can just hear the taunts now. Weak. Pathetic. Embarrassing.

Not good enough, Beauregard. Never good enough.

Soon enough, or maybe not soon enough, the maid returns with a taller woman in tow. Beau averts her gaze from the yellow tie long enough to spot Mrs. Lionett in all her ugly-dress glory, frozen in the doorway of the sitting room, expression the picture of comical surprise. If Beau weren’t so damn freaked out she’d definitely be laughing.

“Beauregard! What a pleasant surprise.” Mrs. Lionett glides into the sitting room and comes to a stop next to Mr. Lionett. Beau hates her casual tone, but that was Mrs. Lionett for you. Always the one to keep up appearances, even more so than Mr. Lionett. Beau resented her for it almost as much as she resented being born into this awful family.

From somewhere near the trophy case, Nott whistles quietly. It’s more like an ‘oh wow’ whistle than anything else, and it almost makes Beau snicker. Almost. If Mr. and Mrs. Lionett notice it, they don’t comment.

Beau’s fists clench as she stares at the two of them, standing side by side like the two brick walls they always were to Beau. It feels like an open wound, with them standing emotionless and picture perfect. She’s taut like a wire, waiting for them to say something - expecting them to snap at her, maybe. The least they can do is say something. Does Beau even want them to say anything? Her eyes flicker back to Mr. Lionett’s yellow tie, gaze going no further. There’s a wrinkle in his tie. Beau doesn’t remember if he has wrinkles around his eyes, too.

“Did you need something?” Mr. Lionett’s voice is clear, mechanical. It’s his business-transaction voice, but it’s also the voice that he uses whenever he has better things to do than talk to his daughter. Maybe they’re the same voice.

Gods dammit Beau, get it together. The Mighty Nein need this to work. They need information, don’t let him get into your head. Get it together. Look him in the eye. Do it.

She stares at the yellow tie.

The silence stretches on uncomfortably as the Mighty Nein shift in their positions around the room, their gazes carefully flicking between an extremely tense Beau and the unmoving Lionetts.

Mr. Lionett sighs loudly from his mouth, sort of nasally and low. “I don’t have time for this.”

He takes one step backwards, turning halfway to face the foyer and leave.

“Wait.” Fjord’s careful accent curls around the single syllable like he’s afraid to break the silence, but knows they need something from the Lionetts so he continues on anyways.

Mr. Lionett turns around to face them with one raised eyebrow. His upper lip is curled in disdain. Still standing in front of Beau with a passive look on her face, Mrs. Lionett purses her lips at the intrusion. It seems neither of them expected Fjord to speak.

“Yes?”

Fjord gulps audibly, and Beau cringes. The Lionetts were never fond of non-human races, and it seems that fact is still true. When she was younger, Beau had a tabaxi classmate who she’d hang out with around the river. It didn’t take long for the Lionetts to take control over that situation - Beau never saw her friend again. Dammit, she should’ve told the Nein about this. She’s fucking it up before they’ve even started talking; she should’ve known this would happen. Beau feels the phantom grip of a hand on her wrist, squeezing too tight. Her arms are lead weights. Her blood is solid.

You’re a disappointment, Beauregard. Not good enough. Why do you let us down every time?

Fjord and the Lionett’s conversation is white noise, all droning on in the background. Beau’s nails dig into the meat of her palm as her breaths grow shorter and more harsh. White noise pounds in her eardrums, her vision centering all on one point - the yellow of Mr. Lionett’s tie has never looked so garish and loud before. It’s so bright. It’s mocking. Beau feels unsteady, floating. She’s 7 now, and standing in front of her father while he works. Shoulder’s straight, head lowered. No eye contact. These hands aren’t hers anymore.

Her father, her father. He would say nothing. He would do work. Then he would leave. The office would go dark. Beau would stand there, alone.

Her mother sometimes passed by the office, peering in. She would say nothing. She would close the door. Sometimes, she laughed. Mostly, she didn’t pass the office at all. Her heels would echo down the hall anyways.

A hollow feeling - starting deep in the center of her chest, expanding outwards. Beau knew it well back then, and it fueled her fear, her anger, her drive to leave her home as soon as possible. That feeling faded over time, but never went away. The Mighty Nein were great at that sort of thing; they made Beau feel less empty, and even made her forget what it felt like at times. That hollow feeling creeps back, slowly.

An open wound.

An empty room.

A hand, lightly brushing against her wrist. A light touch, nothing more than a whisper of skin but to Beau it’s the anchor she needed to back away from the storm of emotions she feels. She turns to look, and Jester is standing beside her, having made her own way around the room to offer support. Nott peeks out from behind Jester, her eyes endlessly wide and unbelieving as her ears twitch to every derogatory intonation in Mr. Lionett’s voice.

Turning from Nott’s concerned gaze lands her staring directly into Jester’s purple eyes, hardened with worry and a little bit of anger. The pure fury in the tiefling’s eyes is hard to look at, even if Beau is proud at her to displaying her anger so openly.

Beau strains to pay attention to her surroundings as she faintly registers the murmurs dying down to silence, charged with a certain quality that Beau is unable to parse out because she wasn’t paying attention. She’s not sure she wants to turn and find out, but she needs them to know. She needs to know for herself too.

Turning around, Beau finds the rest of the Mighty Nein staring daggers at her Mr. Lionett. It doesn’t take much for her to realize that Mr. Lionett probably said something extremely biting and discriminatory - Beau’s intimately familiar with that type of language from him. Fjord has his eyes narrowed dangerously and his face is tense, a big difference from his usual calm demeanor. Next to him, Caleb has his teeth bared in a predatory grin. Caduceus, who stood up sometime during Fjord’s negotiations, has his hand placed placatingly on Caleb’s shoulder in an attempt to control the situation, but upon further inspection, Beau notices that his own eyes are hardened and cold.

Seeing all of her friends, ready to strike, sets something at ease in Beau. These people have her back; whether its facing a Hydra, defeating demonic entities, or going against her family; these people, they’re with her. That’s all she needs to steel her resolve and return her attention to her father, standing with his chin raised as he looks down at them all. His hands are carefully clenched, the fingers flexing and straining as he grits his teeth in annoyance. Normally seeing all of this would set off the alarms in Beau’s head, and cause the dread to swallow her whole.

Now, she glances back briefly at Jester, sees her icy purple glare soften momentarily as their eyes meet. Nott gives her a small nod, her green hands twitching subtly towards her back, where she hid her crossbow. Beau looks forward and sees Fjord and Caleb, expressions murderous. Caduceus catches her gaze and smiles.

A moment of clarity: If these people have her back, she can take on anything.

“Fuck you,” Beau says, voice rough and cracking like she hasn’t spoken in ages. Although, she hasn’t spoken so long in this house that maybe that’s the reason why it feels like the breaking open of an empty crypt.

Mr. and Mrs. Lionett’s turn so comically and abruptly to face Beau that the monk actually smiles. She can count on one hand the amount of times she’s surprised them, and she’s glad that this will be the last.

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Lionett’s hand goes to her throat as if she was personally attacked by the foul language.

Mr. Lionett grabs his wife’s hand. “Now, Beauregard -“

She still flinches, but it’s not enough to deter her. It’s improvement. “You heard me.”

Mr. Lionett takes a menacing step forward, hand outstretched far enough that Beau’s half sure the rings on his fingers will slide right off. At least then, they wouldn’t imprint on her face. He stops, a couple of feet in front of her.

“Don’t speak your mother and I like that.” His voice is low, threatening. It used to scare Beau on the rare occasion he would be more angry than annoyed. Now it’s funny, seeing him so riled up and knowing it’s meaningless.

“Why not?” His hand twitches. “Look,” Beau says, voice steadier now. She casts a glance around the room and finds the assured gazes of her friends. “We’re only here to find information about a guy. If you don’t have that, then fine. We’ll leave.”

Mrs. Lionett comes forward to lay a placating hand on Mr. Lionett’s shoulder. “Who is this man you seek?”

Beau wants to say, ‘classic mom, always the mediator’, but she bites her cheek and replies, “Guy named Lonardo. Know him?”

“He’s a business associate. Why?” Mr. Lionett stares at her with distrust, body still tense like a coiled wire. Good, Beau thinks, he should be careful of me.

“Because he’s a bad dude who’s done shitty things.” And, just because she can: “But you’re familiar with that, aren’t you, Thoreau.”

Maybe it was hearing his first name come out of his daughters mouth so brazenly, or maybe it was the blatant disrespect and insult. Either way, Mr. Lionett snaps and steps right up to Beau’s face, his hand coming from his side to his shoulder in an instant, stopping only just barely an inch from her face.

In response, the whole room steps forward, and the Mighty Nein ready their previously sheathed weapons. Beau can only just barely hear the scrape of metal against leather as blood rushes in her ears from her father lunging at her. She feels frozen as her heart bumps erratically in her chest, despite her willing it to calm down. All her bravado gone, the crashing waves threaten to drag her under. She goes to take a step back, but a light touch on her arm drags her to the present.

Turning to look, Jester mouths the words, ‘we got you’, to Beau, while Nott’s hand squeezes Beau’s arm reassuringly. Beau smiles at the two of them before turning back towards her father, still waiting like a snake.

“This is my family now.” For once, her voice doesn’t waver around the word, and Beau’s surprised at how right it feels, saying family after all the years of resenting it. “I love them.”

“We have her back.” Fjord meets her eyes, his own filled full of unspoken hardships of his own but also with certain depth of warmth that Beau knows she feels too.

Caleb lays a steady hand on her shoulder. “We are her family, too.”

Her heart fills, and Mr. Lionett scoffs derisively. “You expect me to -“

Beau just shakes her head nonchalantly as she cuts him off. “If you do not provide us the information, I have nothing to say to you.”

Then, to the surprise of everyone in the room, Beau turns, and begins to walk out of the room. Behind her, the Mighty Nein begin reaming into Mr. and Mrs. Lionett, and she grins at the pure rage and indignation she hears.

She crosses into the foyer, and the lion statues at the base of the stairs don’t seem to stare at her, for once. The paintings on the walls don’t taunt her either. Everything in the house looks different, even though Beau knows that everything’s the same.

Beau only pauses when she spots something. Up the stairs, a small boy sits on the top stoop, carefully watching her. She takes a short, brief pause, to think about everything she hated about her childhood. In that moment, watching her brother stare at her with young, innocent eyes, she vows to never have her brother experience the same.

“I’ll be back.” Beau promises. She contemplates going up the stairs to introduce herself - it’s her brother for crying out loud. But…

She nods at the brother she has never met, and opens the door to step outside.

~~~

The road home is quiet, but not in the way that hurts Beau the way she’s used to. In this quiet, Jester interlaces her fingers with Beau’s. Caleb settles a hand over her shoulder as Frumpkin purrs genially in her lap. Fjord hums a soft shanty while he drives the cart. Caduceus makes tea in the back. Nott is fiddling with Beau’s hair as she tries to braid flowers in the monk’s hair. Beau’s sure that if Yasha were here, she’d be helping Nott braid her hair too.

Beau’s thankful, in that moment, for the kind of silence she knows that only her family could achieve. It brings out a calm and clarity within Beau that she never associated with the quiet before, after a whole childhood of her own quiet moments filled with dread and anxiety.

She thinks of how successful the meeting with her father was. She thinks of how the Mighty Nein defended her to the bone. Most importantly, she thinks of a little boy with blue eyes and brown skin that just learned he has a sister.

That promise she made to her brother was genuine. Although her hands still shake in the Lionett house, and although just hearing her father's name fills her with inescapable dread, Beau feels lighter than ever. It feels like hope. As Caduceus would say, it’s progress.

[alicepink-me]

The New Guardian

Story Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an adult in the real world, guarding the Miracle Box in Master Fu's place. She's in love with Chat Noir, but refuses to tell him her feelings. New holders appear to fight the duo and shake up their lives. Marinette makes a tough decision about her future as Ladybug.

Chapter 12: The Council

2 Weeks Later:

Marinette laid in her bed, reading her kwami book. She bought it two weekends ago and had almost finished it. She could've been through it by now if her physical classes weren't so tiring. April hasn't worn her locket yet, so Marinette assumed she hadn't locked a compulsion inside of it yet, or maybe she wouldn't. Marinette didn't want to ask, so she wouldn't mention it.

There was an urgent knock at the door. Marinette and April looked at each other. They weren't expecting anyone and it was early on a Sunday.

April shrugged. "Maybe it's Rebekah."

Marinette hopped out of her covers and walked to the door. She flung it open to find a letter on the ground with no one around. Marinette picked it up and turned back to April. "A little ominous, don't you think?" Marinette ripped it open and pulled out the letter, rapidly scanning it. "It's a . . . summoning."

"Summoning?" April closed her book.

"Like a spontaneous, urgent meeting." Marinette corrected. "The council wants to see me and . . . " She flipped over the page. "It doesn't say why. There's only a time and location."

"Sounds like a trap." April chuckled. "They might be planning to kill you."

"Or maybe they think I'm overqualified to be in a class of preteens for history and want to change my schedule." Marinette suggested, moving to her closet. Jenn jumped at her feet, brushing against her leg. "I'm trying to stay positive here considering there is a fair chance the council hates my guts because of my guardian and my past. There's probably plenty of people that want me dead, but let's not think about that right now."

"Just avoid people like I do." April suggested. "The temple isn't bad if your avoid all humanity and drama." She pointed at her. "Send a bat signal."

"I'm supposed to prove myself to this terrifying council of elders. I cannot avoid them." Marinette sighed. "They could kill me. I need on their good side until later, so only positive thoughts."

"You mean panicked thoughts?"

. . .

Marinette walked down a creepy corridor that looked ancient. She held the letter from earlier in her hand as she searched for the right door. This sector of the temple was never repaired or updated at all. There was some loose rubble on the ground and the only light came from candles on the walls. Pieces of the structures were dilapidated and faded. This place was probably haunted and Marinette was probably about to die.

Marinette looked down at the paper again. Room 3 of Sector 1. Marinette could see a few doors up ahead as well as a stature. As she got closer she focused on it. She didn't recognize who the sculpture was, but it had a few chunks gone along with its nose missing. Marinette reached the first few doors.

"Four." Marinette read. She walked across to the other, smearing the dirt off as she tried to read the number. "Three." She said.

Marinette sighed and took in her surroundings. She still didn't know what the council wanted with her and she was insanely nervous, but running from this wasn't an option. Marinette steadily raised her fist to the wood before anxiously knocking. The door immediately opened before she could hit it a third time.

"Marinette, welcome." A man said, stepping aside. "Please come in."

Marinette lowered her hand and gave a shy smile before moving inside. There was a large oval table filled on one side with several elders wearing red and black laced robes. They all had stern faces and their hands laid folded in front of them. Marinette hooked her purse on the corner of a chair across from them and awkwardly sat down.

"Thank you for meeting with us, Ms. Dupain-Cheng." A woman said. "We realize our notification was a bit vague, but due to privacy reasons, we prefer to keep any information regarding the meetings in this room."

"I understand." She nodded. "So why was I summoned here?" Marinette asked, fidgeting her hands. "I hope all is well."

"We just wished to check up on you." Another said. She recognized him as the man Mint had called Master Mantis. "You are fairly new to all of this and you are uniquely special compared to our other pupils. Checking in is very important to us."

"Well the temple is amazing." Marinette spoke, her voice slightly shaking. "I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would and . . . my classes are very informative, although the teachings are a little biased."

One woman frowned, her nostrils flaring and eyes widening. "Biased? How so?"

"The lessons are taught by people who were at the temple when it disappeared a long time ago. Everything they mention is important and informative, but extremely one-sided." Marinette said. The crowd tensed. "Everything I had learned from my master was from his viewpoint, but I was glad to hear each side when I came here. It helped me understand the entire situation."

"Interesting." The woman replied.

"What about your guardianship training?" A man asked, clearing his throat, trying to ease the tension.

"Definitely . . . different." Marinette answered.

"I'm sure Fu taught you all the easy ways out." Another woman muttered, turning to the woman next to her.

"Actually his training was quite difficult." Marinette replied. "Master Fu said connecting with the kwamis and the Miracle Box itself was key to being a guardian. I spent months meditating and connecting my energy with theirs. Unlike the previous training here, I was allowed basic necessities like food and I was taught how to have a normal life. Even if the kwamis are a main priority, I'm supposed to keep them under the radar and the best way to do that is to keep a normal lifestyle."

"So you did cheat our traditions?" The first woman growled. The man to her right grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"I trained diligently." Marinette defended herself. "Master Fu was the best teacher I ever had and even though my classes here are great, I still believe that. My guardianship classes have strengthened my knowledge about the job and have made me a better holder. I will admit that, but Master Fu's training was still valuable. I-"

"I think that's enough for today." The second woman said, cutting her off.

"Thank you for with meeting us, Marinette." One of the men stood up and held out his hand. "We look forward to future discussions."

Marinette stood and shook his hand. "I do as well."

Marinette awkwardly turned and left the room as most of them glared. Luckily that situation was done and over with. That was too much anxiety and awkwardness for today. Every elder in that room practically despised her. No matter how hard they tried to hide it, their anger practically bled through their words.

Marinette felt for her phone, but noticed her purse missing. She must have left it in the conference room. Marinette turned around and walked back to the door, but stopped when she heard talking. The conversation sounded a lot more outspoken and louder than it was a minute ago.

"Can you believe all that nonsense praise she had about Wang Fu?" One woman asked, pouring a drink. "That brat has no right to sputter such things."

"Fu completely corrupted that girl's mind." A man scoffed, shaking his head.

"Marinette hasn't been here very long to acclimate to our ways, so it's no surprise." Mantis said. "It'll take time for her mind to understand our ways before she physically shows evidence of our teachings."

"Luckily we won't have to wait for that nightmare to happen." The other woman laughed, opening another bottle. "That girl was never one of us to begin with. She shouldn't have been given this opportunity to prove herself in the first place. It won't fix her."

"Oh please!" The first woman argued, laughing. "She wasn't even given a chance to begin with. She never was. That wasn't part of our plan and when we follow through with the rest of it, that'll show true."

"Marinette could've been great if Fu hadn't stepped in when he did." Master Mantis said, taking a drink.

"I don't know where this soft spot of yours came from, Mantis, but you need to cut it out." The first woman growled. "Once the trial is over . . . hopefully we'll never see that dreadful creature again."

"She must be charged for her heinous crimes, Mantis." A man said. "And I'd advise you not to communicate with her again till we're met in a court room." Mantis nodded.

"Why are we waiting to begin with?" The second woman crossed her arms. "She should be imprisoned immediately."

One man swirled his drink in his glass. "Maybe we should move the date up."

Marinette gasped, slowly stepping away from the door. She needed to get out of here. This entire temple and her training was all a big lie. She'd have to leave or else she'd be unfairly tried for crimes she couldn't stop. Marinette's heart sped up and she took off, sprinting down the long hallways through the temple. She needed to pack what she could and bolt.

What would Chat Noir think? No! She couldn't worry about him or at least she shouldn't. If she has to flea, the only place she can go at the moment is her old apartment, but that's in Paris. Marinette will see him again and the idea of it made her heart hurt. Every possible scenario of running into him flashed in her mind. What if it ended horribly? Oh who was she kidding, wasn't her luck bad enough already? She could handle nearly breaking her nose during class, but facing the man she's loved for years, well that's a death sentence.

Marinette reached the dorm areas of the building. She turned down her sector and continued sprinting. Her room was over two hundred doors away. Even if the council wasn't chasing her, she felt like her clock was ticking too fast. She needed in her dorm now, but it seemed to get further away.

. . .

Marinette burst through her door, panting as she scanned the room. Her breath hitched. Chat Noir sat relaxed along the windows, twirling his belt tail. His eyes were shut and relaxed, unlike herself. No April in sight.

"I was wondering when we'd see each other again, M'Lady." He smiled. "I surely hope that letter wasn't a goodbye." Chat's eyes opened as he turned to her, jumping at the sight. He gulped and his body froze. "M-Marinette . . . " He breathed, gaping.

"Chat Noir . . . " Marinette shut the door behind her without breaking eye contact. "You're here."

"I am." He replied, speechless.

Marinette's heart pounded. "Wh-"

"You're Ladybug." Chat said, taking a step forward. "I didn't know it was you when I got here." He explained. "Your room was under the name Ladybug, so I found it and I snuck in to see you, but I guess I know your identity now. Unless you're a miraculous holder at this temple too and I have the wrong room." He put his fist under his chin and looked up in thought. "We haven't really seen each other since graduation a few years ago, Marinette, so I suppose you could have been attending this school the whole time without my knowledge. Maybe I am in the wrong room."

"No, you . . . had it right." Marinette smiled and moved forward, beaming up at his emerald eyes. "I am Ladybug."

Chat's hand dropped to his side, his eyes widening. "You really are?"

"Of course. How could you be so blind?" Marinette grabbed his hand and held it. "I've been waiting here for you this whole time." She sprung forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him tight.

"Really?" Chat hugged her back, happier than he's been in awhile. "I beat myself up over you leaving this whole time that I never thought you wanted me to come find you. I thought I was only intruding."

"Then why did you?" Marinette asked. "Why did you . . . find me?"

"You know me . . . always jumping into situations." He sighed. "I was thinking with my heart. I needed to speak to you even if it meant I'd lose you. Even if I had to chase you all the way to Tibet."

"Of course I know you." Marinette stared up at him. He was so handsome. His eyes sparkled when he looked at her. "I'm so happy you found me." Marinette slowly moved on her tippy toes, leaning her head closer to his, their lips inches apart. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't." She beamed, closing her eyes.

Chat Noir released a breath of laughter. Marinette blinked her eyes open as Chat pressed a finger to her lips. "I'm sorry, I'm saving that for the real Ladybug." He announced.

"That too bad. You were really good looking." Marinette's demeanor changed as she fell back on her heels and crossed her arms. She smiled. "How did you know I wasn't her? I thought I was convincing."

[dreamgirlbreezy]

CHAPTER 23

DONNIE

 I gently touched her face and her neck and kissed her I love her my heart will heal now cause it’s back to loving her, she all I wanted all I need in my life.

The door opens, startling us both apart, and a young woman in a white coat over gray scrubs strides in.

"Good evening, Ms. Steele. I'm Dr. Bartley."

She starts to examine her thoroughly, shining a light in her eyes, making her touch her fingers, then her nose while closing first one eye and then the other, and checking all her reflexes. But her voice is soft and her touch gentle; she has a warm bedside manner. The nurse joins her, and I wander to the corner of the room and make some calls while the two of them tend to her. She finds it's hard to concentrate on Dr. Bartley, Nurse, and me at the same time, but she hears me call my mom, her mother, and Sammie to say she’s awake. Dr. Bartley checks her ribs, her fingers probing gently but firmly. she wince.

"These are bruised, not cracked or broken. You were very lucky, Ms. Steele."

“Yes I am” she looks at me and I wink at her then makes a face she holds in her giggle.

"I'll prescribe some painkillers. You'll need them for this and for the headache you must have. But all's looking as it should, Ms. Steele. I suggest you get some sleep. Depending on how you feel in the morning, we may let you go home in a couple of days. My colleague Dr. Singh will be attending you then."

"Thank you." They leave the room and I stand by the bed, looking tired, and in spite of the fact that she wants me to stay, she know she should try to persuade me to go home.

"You need rest, too, Donnie. Go home. You look exhausted."

"I'm not leaving you. I'll doze in this armchair."

She scowls at me then shift onto her side.

"Sleep with me."

I frown. "No. I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. Please, Donnie."

"You have an IV."

"Donnie. Please."

I gaze at her, and she can tell I’m tempted.

"Please." she lifts up the blankets, inviting me into the bed.

"Fuck it." I slip off my shoes and socks, and gingerly climbs in beside her. Gently, I wrap my arm around her, and she laid her head on my chest. I kiss her hair.

“I miss this”

“Me too I missed you so much”

“I never stopped loving you”

“And I you”

“I know what I did was wrong but I give you my word I never slept with him I wouldn’t do that to you”

“We don’t need to talk about it no more I know you’re sorry and let’s just start new from here baby go to sleep” I laid there with her in my arms just listening to her breathe we didn’t turn the TV on at all I felt her hand move up and down my chest like she normally do, till I finally fell asleep.

I woke up the next day around the afternoon I was in the bed alone and I looked to my left to see Lisa sitting on the chair on her phone.

“Hey where’s Rocky?”

“Hey they took her for a X ray to see how she was doing they might let her go home early” Lisa says

“I hope they do” I got up and put my socks and shoes back on I sat back down on the bed.

“So did yall work everything out?” Lisa asked

“Yes we did and we are back together”

“I am happy to hear that good to know yall are together again” Lisa says

“I would be lying if I say I didn’t miss her cause I did”

“And she missed you; I don’t ever remember seeing her miss anyone as much as she missed you” Lisa says

“Yea well I know the feeling tho” the door opens up and Rocky is wheeled in and I get out the bed and help her back in bed and I sit next to her she smiles at me I smile back at her taking her hand I kiss it.

“Ms. Steele all your vitals are good and you’re going to be able to go home today” Dr. Singh said

“Yayay I want a shower and some clean clothes”

“I will have a list of dos and don’ts for you to follow and signs to look out for and if you see any of these signs you come right back to the hospital to the ER you understand me?” Dr. Singh asks

“Yes ma’am right back here”

“Okay the nurse will be back with the paper work for you to sign and then you’re good to go” Dr. Singh says then leaves the room.

“I think I'll get dressed right now where my clothes are?”

“They are right here you need some help?” Lisa asks

“Yes please”

“I'll wait outside for yall to get done even tho I seen your body already I will still wait outside.” I got up and left the room standing outside the door I was looking around when I saw Sammie and Mia walking up.

“What are you doing out here?” Mia asked

“Rocky is getting dressed”

“Oh okay” Mia said I looked at Sammie she looked at me.

“I got a bone to pick with you Sammie”

“What did I do?” Sammie asked looking lost.

“You told Rocky I had a girlfriend when did you see me with this supposed girlfriend? Did you speak to me about her being my girl?”

“No I saw you out with her and I thought she was your new girlfriend” Sammie says

“Well you was wrong you should check before you start saying shit you don’t know about”

“I’m sorry I am” Sammie said I nodded then the door opened and we all went in.

ROCKY

 I was happy to be going home I needed a shower and clean clothes I rode with Donnie who held my hand the whole time I was scared of being in a car again but being with Donnie was making it all better, once we got to my house he helped me out and we went in.

“Feels good to be home”

“I bet, wanna go upstairs so I can run you a bath or would you rather shower?”

“I'll take a bath” he nods as we go upstairs to my room and he goes right to the bathroom and starts my bath I go and pull me out something to wear.

I lay down slowly on the bed kicking my shoes off my head was killing me so was my side, I needed to take my painkillers but I didn’t feel like moving I was going to lay here until my bath was ready then maybe I will take it after my bath. I laid there with my eyes closed till I dozed off I was awaken by Donnie telling me my bath was ready.

I got up and got undressed and went into the bathroom getting in the tub it was perfect I felt so good getting in the tub.

“I'll let you wash up”

“No don’t leave me stay please if you’re not going to get in here with me at least stay in the bathroom with me please”

“Okay” he sat down on the closed toilet seat and looked at me.

“I know I look a mess with all these bruises and cuts and scrapes”

“You look beautiful those will heal over time”

“You’re so sweet to me I read all your letters but my favorite one I have in memorized”

“You do?”

“Yes I do”

“I do too prove it tell me what it says”

“While sometimes we may questions things in life, deep inside, I know you are the only one for me. When I’m away from you, you are the one that is continuously on my mind. Everything about you, from the way you act, to the way you love, tells me that I can be with you forever and never get tired of you. It is you that I want to sit next to as we are aging and it is you I want to rest next to. You are the only one who can make me feel the way you do. Only you are able to make me feel as if time stops when I am with you. Only you can be the one to straighten me out and chase my fears away. For this, I am forever grateful and look forward to the life we will be living together. Understand that there are some things in life that are inevitable. I am powerless and cannot control those things. Yet, the sun will rise and set, the tide will continue, the seasons will continue to change and I will continue to love you. From the moment I first saw you, I knew that our friendship was going to blossom into something bigger. You are the one true love in my life – the one I have been blessed with and I wouldn’t do anything to change that. You are the warmth I need to keep me away from this dark world. I am the same person I have always been and yet, the friendship I discovered with you has grew into something bigger and better and has changed my life. I understand this love we have will require time and attention and I am perfectly fine with that. Yes, we have our down times, but we have more ups than downs. You know, while thinking, I discovered there is something mysterious about this relationship between you and I. This relationship is almost a thing in itself and yet, it is something no one can see or touch. Because of you, I have seen good changes in me and that is something no one else was able to do. I am interested in more things because you are interested in those things – I am sharing so much with you and have told you things I would have never told anyone else. You have helped me change, grow and expand and I thank you for this. I am a much better person because of you – you are the one who has made me stronger and happier. Before you came into my life, there wasn’t much to me – I was an average guy with an average life – I was down to earth, but there was sadness in my heart. I was missing something. Today, I realized exactly what I was missing. It was you. Now that you are here with me, I feel as if my life is complete – I no longer feel as if I am missing something. When I go home at night, from school, I am happy, because I know there is someone that will be waiting for me. In the past, when I went home after school, I went home to an empty house – surely, you could relate to me on this filling. Every day, when I am at school, I wonder what you’re doing – I imagine me sitting next to you and cannot wait to get home to you so I can give you a big kiss. Every day, it is you that I look forward to and it is you that makes my life worth living. Honestly, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.I love you and I will always love you from the bottom of my heart love always Adonis”

“WOW you know your stuff impressed” we talked a few then he left so I could wash up and when I got out he wasn’t in the room I think he left so he would have to see how horrible I look all cut up, I got dressed putting on clothes that will cover me up real good and then I got in the bed when he walked back in with a glass of orange juice and my painkillers, I took them and he smiled sitting on the bed he was looking at me like I had 3 heads.

“What?”

“Your all covered up you gotta be hot”

“I’m not”

"Show me."

"Show you what?" confused.

"Show me your scars."

My heart stopped. I was not one to flaunt my scars. I tried to keep them as hidden as possible.

His hand touched the cuff of my hoodie and he slowly pushed up the sleeve. I watched him as he revealed my scars, waiting for his reaction. They weren't that bad. He took his hand, running his fingers over them lightly. I trembled at his touch.

Then he leaned down, his lips barely touching my skin, and began kissing them. One by one.

I just watched him in awe as his lips worked all the way up from my wrist to the bend in my arm. It was a gesture that brought tears to my eyes. When the last scar on my arm was kissed, he looked up at me.

"Where are the others?"

I sighed lightly, pulling the sheet off my legs, pointing to my left thigh.

He smiled sweetly at me, scooting down. Again, his fingers lightly traced the scars on my thigh, sending chills all through my body. Just as with my arm, he leaned down, kissing the scars softly until every small scar had been kissed.

"Any more?" looking up to me.

I bit my lip, taking a deep breath. I reached for the zipper on my hoodie, pulling it down. I opened it slightly, pointing to just below my breasts on my belly. Watching my face, he scooted up again, repeating what he'd done with my arm and thigh. Not only was this the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me, it felt really amazing. I was trembling slightly. I ran my hand into his hair as he kissed the scars on my belly leaning my head back slightly.

He then kissed my bruised ribs. Enjoying the feeling of his lips on the very sensitive skin. He looked up at me and I looked at him. He saw that I was enjoying it.

Softly, he brushed the sides of my hoodie aside, revealing my breasts. I blushed slightly, but didn't resist. Watching my face, his hand traveled up to my left breast, his fingers gently pinching my nipple. I moaned quietly. He smiled up at me sweetly, leaning down, kissing the skin of my breast. His tongue sliding out, flicking over my nipple. It instantly hardened. He continued on my right breast, making me scratch his scalp lightly with my fingernails.

He made his way up, kissing my chest, my neck, my ear, and finally, my lips. I kissed him back like I was suffocating, and his breath was the only thing keeping me alive. I reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Raking my fingernails down his chest lightly. He moaned and I smirked. He kissed me again, this time more deeply. His hand traveled down to the waistband of my panties and I whimpered in anticipation, my thighs trembling.

“We can’t do this you’re in pain”

“I'll be fine let’s take it slow and I know you won’t hurt me please I miss you I need you I need this”

He slid his hand inside my underwear, his finger brushing my clit as he ran his finger up and down my slick ravine.

I moaned louder, scratching his shoulders, which in turn, enticed a moan from him. He slid one finger inside me, his lips crashing down on mine once more. He caught my moans in his mouth as he slowly moved his finger in and out of my wet hole. I bit his lip lightly and he pulled his finger out, replacing one with two. I arched my back as he moved those two fingers inside me quicker.

But it wasn't enough. I needed more. And he knew that. He had a way of reading me so well. He pulled his fingers out of me, moving them up to my lips.

I eagerly took them in my mouth, licking them clean.

He stood up and I almost wept from the loss of contact, but as soon as I saw his hands go for the button and zipper on his pants, my anticipation just rose.

He pulled his pants off, and I saw his arousal hard and bulging in his underwear.

He walked over to the head of the bed, and I reached over, pulling his underwear off his hips, his dick bouncing to life in my face. I smirked and looked up at him, taking him in my hand, pumping it slowly up and down before leaning my face up to lick the head of his throbbing dick. He growled, grabbing the back of my head. I smiled, swirling my tongue around, and then opening my mouth to take him inside. He groaned as I sucked hard, still using my hand. I continued to do this, his hand gripping the back of my head as I did so until he was trembling.

"Stop." his breath labored. I pulled him out of my mouth, still holding him in my hand. I looked up at him. And he moaned quietly. "God your eyes kill me...."

I smiled slightly. He moved away, climbing onto the bed. He sat on his knees below my feet. I had my knees drawn up with my feet on the bed. "Sit up." he said. I did as he said, shrugging my hoodie all the way off. "'Mere." I smiled and crawled over to him.

He sat down on the bed, pulling me onto his lap. He kissed me, his hands running up into my hair. He found the hair bow holding my ponytail up, pulling it loose, letting my hair cascade down my bare back. He kissed me, running his hands through my messy hair. As he kissed me, his hand traveled down again to stroke my overly sensitive pussy. I gasped as his finger brushed over my clit again. He could feel how wet I was. He knew how badly I wanted him. How badly I needed him.

“Donnie” I reached for him.

"Lean up, baby..."

My hips rose and he took his dick in his hand, rubbing it against my moisture. I whimpered, gripping his shoulders hard. Finally, I felt the tip of him at my entrance and I moaned, lowering myself down onto him slowly. He groaned quietly as I took him inside me.

He began to move his hips slightly, barely moving inside of me, but enough to make my breath come quicker and my body shake. I moved my hips as well, matching his pace.

Everything was quiet in the room except for the sounds of us. Our actions, our breath, our moans. The sound of my juices as he slid in and out of me. He began to pick up speed and so did I. I was whimpering and my breath was coming in gasps. I had my fingers tangled in his hair, scratching lightly on his scalp. His hands were on my hips, his fingertips digging into my skin. I moved my hands to his back, scratching him harder and he growled, starting to thrust into me harder and faster, making my breasts bounce and my breath catch. I moaned his name, telling him to fuck me harder.

This made him lose his mind. He turned us over. Me on my back and him on top of me. He grabbed my legs, bending them at the knees, raising them up. This brought him even deeper into me and I cried out, arching my back. He pounded in and out of me. Making me produce incoherent sounds and words. He didn't relent either. He continued to thrust inside me as fast as he could, almost bringing me to tears because it felt so good. The bounce of the bed helped propel his movements. I could feel that I was close and I was pretty sure he was too going by the intense look on his face and the sweat that covered both our bodies.

Suddenly he slowed down and pulled out of me completely. I cried out and looked at him with a begging look in my eyes. He smiled at me, leaning down, lowering my legs. He kissed me deeply, our breath tangling together. He guided himself inside me once again, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. My hands when straight for his back. I moved my hips with his once again, speeding up gradually, building up that pressure again. His breath in my ear sent more chills and tingles through my body. I kissed his neck, scratched his back, licked his ear. All in the passion of the moment. Everything was building up rapidly. It was like we weren't even on Earth anymore. Like nothing but what we were doing made sense. Nothing else mattered except for the feel of his skin against mine. The feel of him inside me.

He rammed inside me over and over again. I was moaning his name, moaning things that didn't even make sense. I could hear his groans, his breath, and his growls. We were both so near the edge...

Everything consumed us both until we were both moaning as loud as we could as we both came at the same time. My hips rising up for the few final thrusts to catch all he had to give. My breath was coming so fast, my hair was plastered to my skin from the sweat, my face was red, and I couldn't see straight. All the pleasure coursing through my veins made me feel like I was floating, and his sounds indicated he felt the same way.

Finally we started to come back down to Earth again; he laid there with me, stroking my cheek. I smiled and kissed him.

"I didn’t hurt you did I." I shook my head no and he kissed my ear. "God I missed you..."

[rheesus]

corpse party! — richie tozier (two)

pairing: richie tozier x reader

warnings: panic attacks, mentions of murder, gore, horror, occult and paranormal happenings

— part two of ?

( see part one )

i wont do all 5 chapters since chapter one is entirely based on seiko and naomi who are beverly and eleven sooo yeah! if you want to know what would happen to them and you don’t know the story of corpse party well, watch a gameplay or something laksjshddh 

something soft and wet had landed on y/n's cheek as she laid unaware of her surroundings. whatever was running down her face like tear drops seemed to have woken the class representative up. her e/c eyes batted opened and met to the view of a ceiling that had a clear whole through both the top of the building and the floor between that and the floor she laid on, next to that was a broken light fixture, flickering intensely with its last life.

"so, you're one of the new victims, huh?" an unfamiliar make voice echoed from behind her. the voice alone sent a wave of chills throughout her entire body as she turned and let out a ear piercing scream, she scrambled away, looking up at a boy no older than 17 - the lower part of his body seemed to sway like flames but his whole being had a blue ethereal glow to it.

from out in the hallway she could easily hear two voices calling her name in worry; richie and ms byers. if not for the boy in front of her, she would've smiled at this revealation. the boy's eyes seemed to wander in the direction of their voices and he gave a bittersweet smile.

"wow, stuck in the same space with not one, but two people you know? you're lucky." 

"w-w-" 

"that luck wont last long, i mean - look what happened to me!" the boy had laughed but not in a way that emitted happiness or amusement. his eyes now wandered to the floor, where a pile of bones and some ripped clothing laid.

“what do you mean?” the teen girl boldly said, though her thoughts didn’t match her tone. the ghost just shrugged. 

“you’ve been dragged here against your will. it looks like an abandoned school but it’s hell. you’ll either die horribly or eventually, you’ll kill your friends and die horribly. no matter what, it’s just pain twenty-four fuckin seven.”

 y/n had gulped down her fear in hopes to ask more before something came barrelling through the door and the ghost had fled at the sight and sound.

richie tozier and their beloved ms. byers. 

the first thing that happened upon seeing each other was the tears and smiles of relief before ms byers wrapped the class rep in a tight embrace, richie had squatted down next to her. his grin only widened when she turned to playfully glare at him.

"of all our friends i could be stuck with and i get stuck with you?" the boy rolled his eyes and ms byers had chuckled.

“if you ask me, richie was more worried out of—”

“anyways, it’s good you’re alive.” richie cut the lady off, smiling and ignoring the way his cheeks warmed up. y/n had smiled too, hugging ms. byers again. their happiness was, however, short-lived. the building had started to shake violently and a loud scream rang out through the building — one of filled with the pain and suffering. and who it belonged to was a familiar person to the three.

eleven hopper. 

the very thought that one of her classmates and friends were in danger made y/n’s stomach churn and her mind to run wild with negative thoughts. soon those thoughts became to overwhelming to the point where the teen girl couldn’t help but lose her breath. ms. byers could sense her distress and cupped her face in her hands, 

“y/n, focus on me. it was probably nothing,” she gave an encouraging smile, “probably the wind.”

“but you heard it, right? that was el. our el.” ms byers sighed. richie looked around the wrecked classroom, chewing on his lip nervously.

“ms byers, stay here with y/n and i’ll go look for eleven—”

“no! you stay here with y/n where it’s safe and i will find eleven.”

“stop it! no!” the two looked back at the h/c, her breathing was still erratic but she persisted in talking, “you can’t leave, i just found both of you.”

the kindly teacher had done nothing but give a genuine, sweet smile, “you’ll be fine. i’ll bring eleven back here safe and sound. promise.”

not allowing y/n or richie to protest, ms. byers had left the classroom. the two students stared at the door for what felt like hours. y/n had moved her head towards the corpse of the boy she had talked to. near his the bones of what used to be his hand was nearly touching a card of some sort. she crawled to it and took it into her possession. in fine black print were the words.

derry boys high school

steve harrington 

d.o.b.: 16 april 1996

grade 12 

y/n had let out a shaky breath before stashing the id card in her jacket pocket. she looked back to the door ms. byers had left from and mumbled words of hope under her breath.

please, be okay.

joyce byers had found herself in a classroom worse off than the one she left richie and y/n. one half of it was collapsed in, leaving nothing but a black abyss. she would’ve gone up the stairs but she could hear a wicked voice giggle in her head, “unwise to go upstairs, teacher.”

and so she stayed on the same floor. she had taken five steps in before a blue boy had appeared before her, a bored expression across his face. his mullet was a mess and he glowed. 

“teacher! you stopped cowering with the two in the other classroom, huh?”

she looked at the boy in annoyance. what did he mean by cowering? joyce bit her tongue and gulped, “i heard one of my student’s scream and i’ve set out to find her.”

“i see... regrettably,” he spoke lowly, “that won’t be possible. this school exists in a nexus where multiple dimensions overlap. it’s a single closed space in a sea of closed spaces. in other words, even though you may be in the same school as your screaming student, you and her occupy different dimensions... which means you two can never meet.”

“if one of you should die, perhaps your body... or spirit may move from one space to another... you can find a way of traversing the planes freely as they do,” ms. byers didn’t know why but the way the boy spoke the word they, sent a chill running down her back. the blue boy continued to talk to her, “consider this fair warning: even if you should find the exact spot from which your student’s screams emanated... she herself may not be there and if she’s not there’s not a thing you can do about.”

the boy spoke smugly but there was no indication in his expression that he meant to be. joyce’s eyes were filling up with tears of desperation, “but i heard her scream!”

“it is true other children have arrived here not long ago and by all appearances seem to be your students,” the boy shrugged, “but as i explained, time and space is fragmented here and it doesn’t behave like you assume — you say you heard a scream. that may have taken place a few minutes ago or perhaps in another space hours previous or maybe an echo from the future, who’s to say. or maybe with the phenomenon as it is; it’s possible two closed spaces can have some influence on each other.”

the young woman had clenched her teeth. this young boy was doing her head in. all she wanted was to find eleven and verify her safety, “it doesn’t matter! i can’t go on and ignore an antagonising scream like that! step aside!”

she charged at him and he disappeared. ms. byers had missed the glowering expression he gave her. she had looked around the room for any clues or hints that her student was near but to no avail. as she went to leave the classroom, a supernatural force pull her back in, slamming the door fast. materialising in front of her was the same boy she had just talked to except her glowed red with nothing but malice and hate in his lifeless eyes.

“step aside?! why don’t you fuck off!” his voice was now no longer monotone, but angry at her. the ground had started to shake once again. too focused on the earthquake, ms byers had failed to notice the shelf filled with cutting supplies slowly falling towards her body. the shelf itself was too heavy with the combined force of wat was pushing it down and so it caused her to topple too.

she felt the bones in her back all crack at once and her skin was being sliced. was it the scissors or the scalpels or the glass that was worse? she couldn’t tell it was all too painful to bear. the angry teen started to talk again, “in all the world, the most vile and untrustworthy are you schoolteachers. all you give a shit about is your own well-being! you’re not worried about your students! you’re just worried about being held responsible if something should happen to them!”

joyce couldn’t worry about his rant, only how much the weight was hurt her, “youre all the same... every single one of you! and i won’t be taken in by your lies!”

this caught her attention. taken in by lies? 

“when you see a problem among your kids, you just keep your distance because you sure wouldn’t want to get involved! have to keep up appearances, right? you just pick out the problem children and chip away at them until they drop out or get expelled! you’re not disciplining them — you’re just raging at them! there’s no teacher ever that’s actually cared about their students!” 

with what little energy she had, ms byers spoke up bravely, “-you’re... you’re wrong.” 

this angered him more and the weight on her back grew more heavier, she let out a yelp of pain as he continued raging, “all of your students are destined to starve to death here if they don’t succumb to this hellhole and kill everyone! it’s the only possible outcome. they’ll all die meaningless deaths like me! and they won’t be thinking of you when they take their final breaths i’ll even pass on a message as they die so — any last words?”

the woman used her energy to glare up at him menacingly, “d...don’t touch those children.”

the teen boy snorted than laughed maniacally like she’d said the most wicked joke, “come again.”

“spare my students... please don’t hurt them.” for some reason this angered him more and more, “please! i beg of you don’t harm a hair on their... goddamn... heads.”

her voice faded out but her thoughts didn’t. 

please please be safe, my sweet students.

  richie had finally stopped looking at the door to turn and look at y/n. minutes had passed and no sign of eleven or ms byers could be seen. y/n suddenly stood up, legs wobbling slightly but nonetheless she bravely stood, walking to the door.

“we have to go find ms. byers.” she mumbled. she soundly drained and tired.

“no way, ms. byers said stay here so—”

“we have to go find ms. byers!” her tone caused richie to flinch, “i just have a bad feeling... we gotta go search for ms. byers.” 

the boy sighed and shook his head.

“fucks sake, fine. but we leave a note for her. do you have pen and paper?” y/n produced a pen but shook her head without any paper. richie messily written a note on the teachers desk and sighed again, “alright lets get the fuck out of here.”

this was so long holy fuck-

anyways i finished writing this at 1am and i’ve scared myself writing so congrats! here’s chapter two! and if you want to be apart of the tag list, i ask or just like the post i made abt it or if i forgot you please tell me oksejhdhdhd

taglist — @dovageidys @the-internet-is-a-scary-place @schwankyblock @musicalsandbooks 

[jaggedheartstrings]

Spread Your Wings (and leave me behind) || Chapter 8

Read On AO3: HERE (chapter 1)

Word count: 2k

Summary:

Natasha Antonia Stark was a thriving scientist in the 1940's. Alongside her brother, Howard, they build a whole world of technology and science for themselves.

Up until a fatal night in 1947.

She was announced dead in 1949.

* * *

Toni wasn’t going anywhere with him as long as she had anything to do about it.

“I was hoping to do this the easier way, but the best ones do put up the best fight at first, don’t they?”

It was the last thing she remembered before darkness overtook her.

-

Chapter 8: Part 1.5 - Reprogram My Will

June 18th, 2003, Formosa, Argentina

The therapist at the local trauma center had told it was good to write down stuff. For coping with everything or to help remember. The center was kind of a homeless shelter too. She wasn’t exactly homeless, but she wouldn’t have been able to afford a therapist. The trauma center therapist was a lovely Japanese lady. Her dark hair was always pinned up in extravagant styles, not one the same as the last one. She always had her square glasses on and ready to go.

While she was a therapist who never got payed, her attitude was never indifferent or mean. Ms. Saito was always warm, inviting and that played a huge part in why she visited her over and over again. One of the few friends she had made had suggested to visit the center, once they noticed how difficult it was for her to interact with people or remember anything about herself.

Antonia sold little inventions and fixed people’s electronics. What she asked barely allowed her to survive, let alone build more. But the people on the outskirts of Formosa weren’t that wealthy. She didn’t need extra money. If she couldn’t pay rent or her next meal, the people always graciously offered to help her. It was a close-knit community that helped everyone.

“An!” Turning at the voice of her friend, Alicia, Antonia gave her a big and real smile. She’d learned that smiling at people when you were in a good mood, would put them in a good mood and they might like you more if you don’t glare them to their early grave. Or so Alicia had said.

“Hey,” she greeted the panting blue haired woman. The pastel blue color of Alicia’s hair complimented her darkened skin much better than it should’ve. “How are you?”

“How am I? I am fucking wonderful, thanks for asking. You will not believe what I just saw.” Antoine’s smile was much more real at her friend’s enthusiastic voice.

“Yeah?” she hummed as she returned to the journal she kept close by, in case she’d need to write stuff down. The page was filled with things under her own name, and a few other names on the page next to it.

“Okay, so. The guy at the hot dog stand, remember him?” Antonia glanced up from the page toward her awaiting friend. The girl was literally vibrating with excitement. The headache building in her head was enough to make her irritated by Alicia’s antics. She loved the woman to death, but sometimes she drove her up five stories.

“Yeah, the red head, right? The one you’ve been crushing on for, oh I don’t know, six months, but have never actually talked to?” Antonia snickered when the blue haired girl whacked her on the shoulder. “Oh, come on, Ms. I-pine-on-people-I-don’t-dare-to-talk-to.”

“I will shove you out of the window, don’t test me,” Antonia couldn’t help but laugh at the adorable threat. She was like a kitten trying to fight a lion. They both knew that the brunette would have the shorter girl on her face in seconds. “Anyway! He saw me stalking him and naturally I knew this was my moment. SOOO, I went up to him and was like, ‘hey man, wanna catch a cup of coffee sometimes’. I heard that’s an adult thing to do, so I was like okay let’s try it.”

“You’ve never even drank coffee, you heathen.” Antonia shoved Alicia away as she tried to catch a look of her notebook. The brunette slammed the notebook closed, storing it in her locked cabinet.

“C’mon, you never let me see what you write!” Alicia whined and she threw a look towards the woman who was acting like a three-year-old despite her 28 years of age. It wasn’t new.

“There’s a reason for that. If I told you what was in there, you wouldn’t know what to do with the information. My past is not all rainbows and sunshine.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve told me like nine million times already.” Alicia scratched behind her ear, “I know you don’t remember anything ‘cuz you had something horrible happen to you- this is why I need you to tell me, so you don’t make that pissed off face when I talk about it insensitively!” She waved at Antonia’s face with her hand. Sure enough, the brunette was scowling at her friend.

“I don’t tell you, because I don’t want to lose you,” she pointed out.

“But some horrid tale of your past won’t make me run away,” Alicia argued against her.

With a deep sigh the brunette informed her, “I’m not worried you’ll run away.” That made the blue haired girl snap her mouth shut and get an understanding look in her eyes. Her father had worked for the CIA and it’d costed her mother’s life. He did get out of the business after that, but it was a bit late to fix anything. “So, what did the cute hot dog guy say?”

Alicia’s eyes brightened as she explained the rest of the first encounter they had had.

Later that evening Antonia returned to her apartment. The whole building was falling apart, and she was quite sure they’d be tearing it apart soon. Which would leave her homeless. Maybe she could room with Alicia. She wouldn’t mind the company and rent would be easier for the both of them.

She stepped inside the lobby and greeted Harold. He was a cleaner/host who held the place up. A long time ago the man had invested money into this building and pursued his dream. But then the people had basically abandoned this part of the town and he was left to the bares. The apartment complex had 16 apartments, but only nine were occupied- Harold included. Antonia was quite sure half of them were druggies. Wouldn’t have been surprising around these corners.

Harold’s frail and weak smile almost broke her heart. He was already in his late sixties, he shouldn’t have been doing so much around the complex. His hands were shaking, mostly due to his never treated addictions. Now he had thankfully enough smarts in his head to not go inject himself. Plus, his grandchildren were quite often around the complex helping their grandfather. Harold’s wife had died a long time ago due to cancer.

Antonia’s apartment was onto second floor, right above the lobby. It was quiet, well until the druggies would start a party. Her keychain held three keys, the keys to her apartment, her workplace and her bike’s lock. Not that a lock would do much around here. A single fluffy ball was hanging from the keys. She’d taken a liking to soft and fluffy things, which was no surprise considering what she had gone through.

The apartment was a lost cause on pretty much everything, though she had tried her best in patching it up. The hallway that opened up right after the door was quite empty, if you excluded the small rug and shoe holder. She couldn’t afford much, most of the stuff in her apartment was used or passed down from friends. She didn’t mind it at all. She enjoyed fixing things and finding out how they worked.

The light that flooded the entry way was dimmed and yellowish. She’d have to fix the circuits again. It was the third time this month alone. The frustrated sigh she let out made her rip her shoes off and hang her purse quite aggressively. As she was about to step into the kitchen, the light almost unnoticeable breathing caused her to halt. Someone was here.

She immediately reached in her pocket for the knife she always had on standby. Her left hand reached for the light switch and as soon as she made out a form, the knife was flying through the air. The figure- a man most likely- leaned out of the way at the very last second. The knife attached itself to the wooden wall behind him.

The man lifted his head at her, eyes glinting curiously. “Hello child,” The Russian accent made her skin crawl and the snarl that left her mouth was downright menacing.

“Who the fuck are you?” She spat out, her hands clenching and unclenching in fists. The man smirked, his expressionless and cold grey eyes watching her every move. “Who are you?” she demanded even louder this time.

“I guess you could call me an old friend,” the words sending a shiver down her spine. “But you’ve been a very naughty girl, haven’t you? Making decisions and relationships all on your own accord.” He moved and she moved towards the kitchen isle where a block of knives was situated at. The tsk noise made her flinch. “I wouldn’t do that. I’d hate to use more painful methods, wouldn’t you?”

The questioning tone was enough to send her through a loop. “I ain’t coming with you anywhere. You might’ve missed it, but I’m done.”

“It’s like you truly believe you have a choice.” At the widened eyes and menacing tone, she was sent back to a time where everything was much worse. To the first time this happened. When the first word hit her, she gasped at the pain, “предложение.” (tender)

“Ah, stop.” She rasped out.

“журнал.” (journal) An image of steel blue eyes flashed, and she fell to her knees.

“шесть.” (six)

Everything left like it was slipping away. Like someone else was taking control and pushing her to the back of her head, unable to affect anything.

Ash. Evening. Nineteen. Reign. Order. Fire.

He continued until only one word was left. After a second of silence he whispered the last breaking word, “криво.” (awry)

The breathing of the figure on its knees evened slowly out, and it lifted its head eyes emotionless and focused on the wall. “Товарищ?” The question solidifying its presence.

“я готов ответить.” (Ready to comply/I am ready to answer.)

 * * *

 The Winter Flower sat at the Chair. Held together by the straps, the scientists and doctors around it were preparing to do something. It didn’t know, it wouldn’t ask. Weapons didn’t have questions.

Its new handler was rubbing his chin while watching it. He was contemplating on something. His empty eyes were almost unfocused due to the intensity of his stare. He wasn’t actually looking at her, but instead was lost inside his head.

“We are ready,” one of the scientists announced and just like that his attention was back in the present. He walked down from the raised platform towards it. Stopping in front of it, he ran his fingers across its jaw.

“God, after this you’ll be perfect. Absolutely and utterly perfect.” His eyes flashed and the grin he gave it was filled with sharp teeth, “I’m sure you’ll remember that little thing you were working on back in 1995. It’s finally completely finished. That Hansen chick got it finally to stabilize after fifteen tries. You were great help, my dear.” His tone would’ve almost been loving, if it wasn’t filled with disgust.

He walked back up, turning towards the doctor. He’d watched the interaction curiously. “Inject her. Three days is far too long, we need her to be ready and we needed it yesterday,” the man hissed at him. He scrambled away, barking orders in Russian. The Winter Flower wasn’t listening. The hazed daze it was in was going to cause problems if its handler would find out. He’d already made it shoot itself in the leg twice. If it weren’t bandaged soon, it’d bleed out. It wouldn’t dare to inform this to the handler. He knew what’d happen upon shooting yourself in the leg, but he didn’t seem to care.

The sudden burning pain that entered its body caused it to scream out in agony. It felt like it was burned alive. The tears that slipped from its eyes despite its best efforts seemed to please the handler.

Its body was rebuilding itself.

Burning a deep fire through all her limbs, focusing on the bullet wounds as they closed after liquid metal flowed out. “Incredible,” the man whispered out. “Truly remarkable.”

The doctors and scientists seemed to abscond from the room, until only one doctor and the man remained.

And it burned for what seemed like years.

[skymoonandstardust]

part one ,   part 2., part 3

Ceo Tom! x reader

Tonight, was about getting along—and Tom was nothing if not a gentleman when he wanted to be so in the interest of being polite like you’d agreed he pulled out the crème colored chair for you.  another small but rare, real smile lifting your lips, shining out like those pillars of light that only so often appear, arching down from the sky to touch the earth below like a blessing or benediction. He wasn’t stunned by it, instead it was like the light and happiness contained in it floated invisibly to lodge somewhere inside Tom as he waited for you to sit down and pushed your chair in.  Once you were seated he walked around to take his own seat at the table.  

Gold trimmed, and obviously expensive plates sat in the middle of an arrangement of gold utensils—most likely only gold plated. There were no candles or roses here. Instead a gorgeous arrangement of tiger lilies dominated the middle of the table. Pretty, but not too much and not so big or tall it made it hard to see or talk to the other person. All this was on top of a beautiful silky red tablecloth that flowed across the tabletop to spill over the sides of the table and reach almost to the white marble tile of the floor.

The spell or whatever had gripped Tom when he saw you at the top of the stairs had faded, but not entirely worn off.  Though not much had happened to make it.

Both of you had survived the car ride by sitting in a mostly content silence and staring out the window.

Honestly Tom was a little worried about what would happen if the two of you did start talking. Tom was almost sure it would ruin whatever this was and the two of you would be yelling and at each other’s throats again in no time. So as he looked across the table at you he was a bit nervous.

Thankfully you only smiled at him before picking up the menu and disappearing behind it’s black cover.

Tom stared for a minute at the gold writing which hovered around where your face should be before he gratefully grabbed his and did the same.

Nothing much was said or done until your drinks had been served and your orders taken. After the waiter scribbled a quick note, grabbed your menus and retreated to the kitchen the two of you were finally alone and left with nothing else to do but talk.

The slightly awkward tension in the air didn’t last long before Tom spoke up, picking up his glass “So, have you heard about that new project Pratt Inc. is working on? It’s fascinating stuff.” The condensation matched the sweat on his forehead. That is it would have the room was a little warmer.  

God it was colder then your attitude to him had been.

Tom was just glad to be wearing his suit jacket.

You nodded as he took a sip of wine “I have, and It’s interesting. Trying to use DNA and cloning to bring back extinct species I think, right?

“Right.” He put the glass down and looked at you, for once not feeling loathing or complete dislike when he did.

“I had lunch with Chris a few days ago and he even said something about going out to look at an island too, building a lab with whole new facilities so he could conduct the research in peace.”

“Though I’m sure he’d hire a team of scientist to actually do the research or move some to it from other facilities.”

Tom nodded “Of course. He’s got so much work and so many other projects that he couldn’t help out himself. He doesn’t have the time. None of us do, frankly.”

You chuckled, raising your glass “I’ll drink to that.” He followed your lead and the two glasses came together with a soft clink before both of you pulled them away to lift them to your lips. After your sip, once your wineglass was resting on the table again you glanced down, then glanced up again to Meet Tom’s eyes.

“Fascinating as that is maybe we shouldn’t talk about anything to do with work or business. I don’t think that would work very with will our promise to be polite to each other for the evening.”

 He nodded, smiling a bit “Fair enough. What would you like to talk about then?”

Putting your arms on the table and shifting, your E/C eyes wondered down to gaze at the flower arrangement, observing the beautiful orange petals as you thought for a second.  

It might have been bad of him but Tom took that second to stare at you and soak in your features. Even if  the two of you hated each other you’d always been beautiful, there was no denying that for him, but you really seemed especially gorgeous tonight.

“You could tell me about your family.”

Tom reached for a piece of bread and considered it.

That would be a safe topic, sure, or at least it seemed like it but did he really want you knowing about his family?

You’d been surprisingly nice so far tonight it’s true. Usually you would have insulted him at least ten times by now but you hadn’t even once. He was inclined to trust you and tell you because of that but Tom knew all too well in the back of his head that tomorrow you could very well go back to being your usual self.  So he hesitated.  

He couldn’t see the harm in the end though, so, scooping up scooping some butter on the edge of his knife he spoke.

“Well, there’s my Mum Nikki and my dad Dom. Then there are my three brothers. The twins, Sam and Harry are right after me and our little brother Paddy comes last.”

“Oh, is paddy still in school?”

“Yeah.” You followed his lead and helped yourself to some bread too, spreading butter on it then taking a few bites as he talked.

“They’re all over in London and I miss them like crazy sometimes. I’d visit them more but the company keeps me pretty busy so I can’t much as I’d like too.”  

Tom was disarmed by another bright smile, one that outshone the lights of the restaurant “I know how that goes. I wish I had more time but the business won’t run itself . . .unfortunately.”

“No it won’t” He smiled over the table at you, unable to hold it in.

You shifted in your seat “Do you at least get to see Sam or Harry at all?”  

A mouthful was swallowed quickly so Tom could answer

“Sometimes, but both of them are pretty busy too. Sam’s traveling—off somewhere in Africa or Australia I think and Harry’s a big director. He’s working in a movie in L.A right now actually and we’re all excited and proud of him. The flights not really quick to visit either one of them.”

A cheeky grin spread in your face and Tom unconsciously braced himself for whatever you were going to say next.

“Three wildly successful boys already? Wow. The world better be ready when Paddy starts doing something.”

He laughed and smiled a bit before answering “Yeah, we’ve got high hopes for him though we know he’ll be great no matter what he does.”

“It’s pretty much for sure with all your track records.”

Tom couldn’t help but smirk a bit  “. . . Was that a compliment Ms.  L/N?”

“Don’t get cocky Holland. I hate you remember . . . but I have to admit you’re good at business, and  it’s  Y/N ?” The answering grin gleamed across the table at him.  

“I’ll remember that.”

You hummed as you picked up your glass “You better. So, any pets?”

Tom’s face lit up and you swallowed your sip to laugh “I can tell already that the answer’s yes.”

“Yeah, Her name’s Tessa. She’s a blue staffy my family’s had forever and she’s an angel.”

“I’d love to meet this angel.”

Tom was startled by how much he liked the idea, the picture of you two meeting.

Don’t be stupid, you hate each other remember?

Only as the two of you talked about your family, books, music, movies and the night wore on he found it harder and harder to hate or dislike you and by the time the bill was paid and the two of you were walking out to the car arm in arm after a delicious  and lengthy desert Tom had to admit you weren’t as horrible as he thought and he didn’t despise you as much as he believed at first.  

The drive back was drastically different then the one you’d taken to the restaurant. A pleasant steady stream of talk flowed until the car stopped in front of your building.

The sight of the facade brought a pang of disappointment and Tom almost laughed to think about how horrified and nervous he’d been looking at it before. Just an hour or so ago It had filled him with dread and now all he felt was slightly sad when he saw it, knowing it meant you’d have to go.

He inwardly shook his head, marveling at the change.

Only a bit ago he would have given anything for you to go and look at him now, sad about that very thing.  It was funny, human nature.

“This is me”

Tom smiled at you and reached for the door handle “I’ll walk you up”

This time it wasn’t politeness or sense of moral obligation that had him getting out of the car. He really wanted to.

Both of you ascended the stairs, his hand instinctively hovering at your back—not touching it—but leaving a bit of empty space between skin though Tom was aching to close that distance.  He didn’t though, thinking of how it would be tomorrow, Reminding himself this was only one nights grace and that everything would be normal in the morning.

The thought didn’t really bring him any peace though, like It had before.

At the top you paused and turned to look at him “I guess this is good bye.”

“Not forever though” Tom grinned “I’m sure you’ll be right there at the next auction or ball or gala—just waiting to annoy me.”

You laughed “And I’m sure you’ll annoy me first.”

“We’ll see.” He smiled widely and winked at you.”

The atmosphere changed suddenly and both of you immediately felt it, letting the conversation trial away to silence as both of you stared at each other. Tom’s gaze flicked down to your lips. Those beautiful enticing pale pink lips he was being drawn to kiss. To say it was a magnetic force would be cliché and untrue. It was stronger then that, but he fought anyway.

It felt right, like two imperfect jagged pieced somehow fitting together and complimenting each other.  But he couldn’t do it.  If something as simple as touching your back to support you while you walked up the stairs was too much then kissing for sure would be, especially with the normalcy for tomorrow to think about.

Tom wanted to kiss you though. . . .and maybe even more, that damn attraction that had been there even from the very start , growing stronger by the second to the point it was almost irresistible.

Unconsciously he leaned closer and you did the same, getting just close enough for your breath to mingle in the overly warm air as your eyes fluttered shut,  hovering on the edge of doing exactly what both of you had secretly wanted to since the second you set eyes on each other.

you’ll end up in bed together by the end of the night. . . You’ll probably end up there either way.”

As the words flowed through his head Tom drew back.

No, not this time. . . but maybe sometime, yes. The thought didn’t disgusted him as much as it did before, though admittedly it had never bothered him as much as it seemed to.

Pushing aside what had almost happened he beamed at you “Remember, I hate you L/N” The words didn’t hold any of the bite or venom they usually would have been infused with. at any other time in the past.

“I hate you too Holland.” You chuckled “Now get out of my sight.”

“With pleasure.”

Tom turned and walked to the car.  By the time he’d closed the door you’d disappeared inside the building, but the smile was very much there as the limo pulled away and he stared back at your building while it faded into the distance.

“I take it you had a good night sir, that the evening went well and turned out better than expected.”

Yeah Ned I did, and it went well, A lot better than I expected.”. 

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