#but got terrified halfway through and couldn’t continue. That’s when Snow found it and after Marrow asked him to help

[corvid-canidae-art]

HARPIES!!!!! Marrow is mine and Snow belongs to my mewtual dearest @gxdcomplex! Our harpies were inspired by mxwhores harpy martin/harpy tma au

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 10: In Another Life

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which they’ve found answers.

Word count: 2.8k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (original character: Reyna as Y/N)

A/N: 

Hey guys, it’s Allie! I’m sorry for such a short chapter; I’ve been so busy lately. And since I’m having an exam this Friday, I cannot release chapter 11 next week. I hope you’ll enjoy this one and I’ll see you in two weeks with a longer chapter :) Meanwhile, feel free to spam me all the theories you’ve got! Love you!

Also, for those who are new to our ‘family’, we call the MC ‘Peach’ so the others won’t get confused with Y/N from my Flatmate series :P 

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Harry could have sworn he’d seen this scene before.

The fireflies and her. Everything seemed and felt so familiar yet he could not trace back to that exact memory. His head hurt, could be from the dancing or the unexpected flashbacks, so he asked for a break and sat down by a tree, watching Y/N chase fireflies. She looked the happiest she’d ever been, or as far as he could recall, which made him wonder if the crown she wore had imprisoned her all these years. Well, of course. The whole reason she’d run off in the first place was to look for freedom. Then why had she returned to the castle? Why had she just given up on her freedom?

He believed at one point he’d known all the answers and even her like the back of his hand. Now, all he had were questions. It was unsettling how someone knew you more than you knew them. Harry hated that; it made him feel vulnerable.

“Harry, look!”

He whipped his head up to see Y/N holding her fists together, a warm glow sipping through the gap between her fingers. She brought the firefly to him, got down on her knees and extended her hands. “Make a wish,” she told him.

He chuckled. “On a firefly?”

She lifted her shoulders. “These could be the spirits of the forest. It might actually work.”

A laugh crackled out of Harry as he shook his head. He leaned closer until the light illuminated his entire face then he shut his eyes and made a wish.

He wished for them to return home safely.

When he opened his eyes, hers were closed. She mumbled soundless words and gave him a smile that could turn him to stone.

“What did you wish?” he asked, his voice wavering.

She pursed her lips to suppress a smirk. “If I told you, it wouldn’t come true.” Then she released the firefly. And they both watched the shiny spot float above and disappear in the shadow of trees.

They continued their journey after a long sleep. It was a gloomy day when they woke up. The air was colder. It was the kind of cold that made your bones ache. Sitting on his horse, Harry’s teeth were chattering and his fingers felt numb around the reins. He had to look over to check on Y/N once in a while and make sure she was all right. Her skin was pale from the cold, her braid dusted with snow, yet her cheeks glowing pink. Seeing her like that gave Harry the energy to keep going.

They hadn’t gone for long when the snowstorm began. Strong icy winds sailed over them, kicking up layers of snow, washing the forest white. Fortunately, they had seen this coming and took shelter in the nearest cave they could find.

They shrugged off their heavy coats, made a fire and roasted the rabbits they’d hunted yesterday. It terrified Harry how much they’d got used to this life. Everything felt a bit easier day by day. How long had they been wandering in these woods? He could not recall. Time didn’t seem to exist anymore. And to him, forgetting time was terrifying because time never forgot you. You might not remember growing old, but you still were every single day.

So what if he and Y/N never made it out of here?

He looked over to Y/N as she chewed on the rabbit leg. She seemed nonchalant, or she was just better at hiding her worries. Perhaps this was for the best. One of them must stay sane for both of them to continue the journey and not give up halfway. Harry thought he could lose it any time soon.

He hadn’t got any new memories today. A part of him was disappointed as he’d thought he was going to get memories back much quicker now that he’d remembered a few things. But he guessed he needed more time.

After the meal, there was nothing to do, so they decided to go to sleep and hoped that the storm would have cleared by morning. They lay down by the fire, wrapped up in their fur coats and waited for sleep to take them.

A few moments passed by, still, neither of them could fall asleep. Harry didn’t know what was keeping her awake. For him, he couldn’t stop thinking about the life outside this cave, beyond these woods, the life back home, the people he’d left behind and was dying to see again.

“What’s the one thing you fear the most?”

She blinked at him with her big round eyes, seemingly taken aback by his question. He hadn’t thought before he’d asked; it’d been the first thought to cross his mind when he’d decided to break the silence, and it’d been the one question he’d been asking himself ever since he’d got to know her.

What was this woman afraid of?

She was younger than him. He couldn’t imagine being someone her age and having gone through all those tragic events and now carried a kingdom on her shoulders. She’d almost died so many times since the beginning of their journey and yet he hadn’t seen her shed a single tear.

He wanted to believe that she was fearless, that the way she’d been raised and treated had turned her cold. But he knew it wasn’t true.

When he’d watched her dance, he hadn’t seen a Queen; he’d seen a girl whose childhood had been taken from her too soon too fast.

Y/N folded her arms over her knees as she watched the shadows on the cave wall bending into eerie shapes. Outside, the storm kept on raging. Harry tried to ignore the roaring of the wind and focus on the sound of her breathing instead.

“Being forgotten,” she finally answered, her voice warm and breathy, “by the ones I love.”

“If they love you, they won’t forget about you,” Harry said. Then, he felt a jab in his chest as he thought about his mother. Y/N had said that she’d met his family so he assumed she knew about his mother’s illness. He laced his gloved fingers together, resting them on his stomach as he took a deep breath. “My Ma forgot who I was sometimes, but I know she always loves me. You can lose your memories about someone, but the love you have for them will always be there.”

“Mother’s love is a different kind of love,” Y/N said, finally looking at him. He could see his own reflection in her eyes and for a second forgetting what he was going to say.

“Love is love. If it’s true, then it won’t fade away.”

Y/N pursed her lips. A thin line appeared between her dark brows as she pondered over his words. Suddenly, he wondered if she was thinking of the King. Perhaps what she feared most was dying in this place and having Lance forget about her.

Uneasiness filled Harry’s lungs. He turned his face away, balling his fists tightly as he felt another memory pushing to the surface.

Then nothing happened.

He let out another long breath and relaxed.

He hadn’t told her about the flashbacks he’d been having. They were more like fragments of his memory, messy and all over the place, and she’d been in most of them. He hadn’t even told her about the constant fear and anxiety of losing her, which he had to deal with every day. He was unable to put meanings to those feelings. But right here, right now, he knew that he envied the King.

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Y/N didn’t know how long it’d been since she’d passed out. When she awoke, it was still dark. The fire was burning low. Harry was sleeping soundly beside her. She thought about falling back to sleep when the sound of footsteps made her jolt upright. Quickly, she reached for her sword and jumped to her feet, just in time a tall dark figure emerged from the shadow.

Her heart lurched. She made an audible gasp, almost dropping her weapon.

Lance.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to recognise her trembling voice.

Lance was wearing a black fur coat, his hair as beautiful as she could recall. He didn’t seem like he’d come in from the storm.

“I came for you,” he said, taking a step closer to the fire. His voice warmed her all over. “To bring you home.”

He extended a hand. And she took it. It was cold.

“How did you get here?” she asked. “How did you find us?”

Us. It was only then that she remembered Harry was still here. She glanced at him over her shoulder and saw that he was still sleeping. How could he still be sleeping with her and Lance talking to each other?

“I...don’t know,” Lance said, his brows knitted as he looked down at his hands as if doubting his own existence. “I went to sleep and I’m here.” He then spotted Harry and stopped for a second. “Is he…”

“Yes. He’s alive.”

There was another pause.

“Good,” Lance breathed, running his long fingers through his raven hair. She noticed the red stone on his finger. Could this really be Lance? Was this a dream?

“How’s Isolde?” she asked, trying not to think too much. She could catch a glimpse of disappointment in his grey eyes and felt guilty about it. He’d probably expected her to ask how he was doing. She wanted to know that, too. But Isolde always came first.

“The people miss you,” he said, looking at the fire to avoid eye contact. There was something else he wanted to say. She knew he was holding it back because he thought she didn’t want to hear it.

She squared her shoulders and gripped her sword-hilt. “How have you been?” she asked.

A corner of his mouth raised as he spread his arms. “I’m alive. And I’m glad to see you alive as well.”

She shook her head and let out a quiet laugh.

“I wish I were really here,” he said.

“So do I,” she heard herself whisper.

Y/N awoke with a start, calling out for Lance, but what she saw was a horrified Harry staring right back at her. It looked like her scream had woken him.

So Lance had never been here. It had been a dream. One that felt so real she could feel his icy skin against her own.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, hurriedly scooting closer to hold her by the arms. “Did you have a nightmare?”

She nodded, wrapping both arms around herself. “I saw Lance,” she murmured.

Harry blinked. Then, his eyes widened. “What is it?”

A chill coursed right through Y/N. She stared unblinkingly over Harry’s shoulder and slowly lifted her trembling hand to point at the creature stepping out from the shadow.

The deer.

It was in the cave with them.

“Are you seeing it too?” Y/N asked Harry.

He was gawking at the creature with his mouth hanging open. He nodded once, unable to move an inch.

“Hello,” the deer said. It was the voice of a woman.

Curious and unusually at ease, Y/N brushed Harry’s hands off her as she got up and started walking towards the creature.

“Peach, be careful!”

“It said hello.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“He cannot hear me,” the deer said as Y/N stopped right in front of it. “Only you can, Your Majesty.”

“You can’t hear it.”

“What?”

“It told me,” Y/N said, still facing the deer. “Only I can hear it. Only I can talk to it.”

“Well, what does it say?”

Y/N swallowed, twisting her own sleeves as she stuttered, “I-I need answers. I need to find the Lake of Tears. Can you help me?”

The deer tilted its head to the side. “You have all the answers,” it said.

“I...do?”

“Come closer.”

“Peach!” Harry snapped as Y/N took another step and held out her hand.

The deep bent slightly in a way to ask her to touch its head. And so she did.

A burst of memories poured over her. She saw herself free-falling through time, being pulled by an invisible string through different scenes and places. Like flipping fast through a picture book and only getting a glimpse at each page.

The crooked house before the fire. Food on the table. A fireplace. Woman kissing her lover. A fire tattoo on her back. Woman waiting for her lover. She has a child now. Woman and child being chased through the woods. It was winter. A snowstorm. Slippery ice. Woman and child falling into the dark cold water into the drowning deep.

Y/N felt water fill her lungs. She screamed. Her vision came back in an instant and Harry caught her right before she hit the ground. She could still feel the pressure onto her chest, but she wasn’t drowning. She was still in the cave. The deer was still standing there, watching her.

“Peach! Hey! What did you see?” Harry asked as he let her lean onto him for balance.

She kneaded her temples. Her head was in so much pain she struggled to keep her eyes open. “I-I see the witch…She had the symbol on her back...She belonged to The Monks.”

“What?”

“She didn’t die alone,” she said and fisted Harry’s shirt as realisation washed over her. “The lake exists! I don’t know where it is but I saw the witch fall through the ice and die with her baby.”

Harry was shaking now but his fingers didn’t loosen around her arms. “I don’t understand,” he said, trying to sound as calm as he could.

“Follow me,” the deer told them and turned away.

“We must follow the deer.”

“There’s a storm–”

“Harry, please!” she shouted. Her headache was getting worse, but she wasn’t giving up now that she’d found the answers. The deer wanted her to see those scenes for a reason. It was going to lead her to the lake.

Harry still stood there, clutching her arms as if she’d vanish as soon as he let go. She sucked in a breath and looked him in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

He swallowed. She was ready to be let down. She’d do this alone if she must.

“I do,” he said and picked up their swords with one hand, not releasing her hand. “Let’s go.”

And so they did. They followed the moonlight deer into the storm.

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Lance woke up to the sound of wind whistling in the chimneys. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and found himself still sitting in the library with two tall piles of musty old books waiting to be read.

He’d had so many dreams about Y/N before. This one, however, had felt so real. He closed his eyes and forced himself to fall back to sleep so he could see her again, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not pass out with a head full of troubling thoughts.

Frustrated, he pushed away from the table and got to his feet. He arched his back, stretching his limbs. His body had almost gone numb from having sat in one spot for the entire night.

He didn’t know what he was hoping to find in these books. He only knew that to deal with a force as ancient as The Monks, he had to look for answers in history. For Y/N, he’d spent long hours in this dark old library on his own, reading until the words on the page got all tangled together and then he’d pass out not knowing how much time had passed. What kept him going was the red stone on his finger. She was still alive out there and while he was safe here, he could not just sit back and do nothing.

Lance was just thinking about going back to his chamber and saving the rest for the next morning when he saw it.

A moth.

He had no idea where it’d come from. It skimmed past his shoulder—white wings beating against the dust. It looked as if it’d just come through a storm, wings torn at the edges. Shredded.

In Attwell, a moth signified a dead spirit or at least the messenger from the other side trying to tell the living something that was going to happen or had already happened in the past. Lance wasn’t superstitious, yet anxiety had made it hard for him to just ignore any sign. He flopped back into his chair, now a lot more awake. The moth circled overhead, bobbing quickly out over the shelves as if called forth by something. Back into the darkness of the library and gone.

Lance moved the candle closer to get a better look at what was written on the page.

Lokesh Willem Y/L/N. First High King of Isolde...

[parkersbliss]

Reality | P. Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker X Female, Romanoff reader

Warnings: Mysterio, Mysterio, sad Peter, Peter getting hit by a train, Mysterio mentally abusing reader, just Mysterio

Type: angst??

A/N: It’s been months ya’ll I’m so sorry. This was supposed to be a prologue to Fake, but I got carried away. First post of 2020!

WC: 2,000<

Summary: Mysterio knows what he wants, but so do you and Peter.

Tagged: @theolwebshooter @thegirlwiththeimpala

If you want to be tagged see here

Masterlist

The Europe trip was supposed to be fun and relaxing, but instead, it was chaotic and quite terrifying. Your little trip to Paris ended up being a trip to Prague during the festival of lights, in which Peter was on a classified mission (that ended up being fake) to stop a fire monster. Of course, when your boyfriend sneaks out of the opera hours you were going to follow him. And not because you were scared for him, quite the opposite. You knew Peter was doing Superhero stuff and you wanted in. You had been off duty while grieving for your mom, but now it was time to jump back into battle. Something to at least distract you from the pain of loss. Quietly you followed Peter, your footsteps fell silently as snow.

“Peter,” You whisper when he reaches the festival.

“(Y/N)! Wh- what are you doing? You should’ve stayed in the opera house where it’s safe.”

“What’s going on?”

"I-“

You cross your arms and give Peter the stare, the one your mother taught you. She always said it drove the boys (and girls) mad, "Peter."

He sighs, muttering something into his earpiece. "Do you remember the water monster in Venice?”

“Yeah…” You raise your eyebrows in speculation, was this attack related to that one? As if Peter read your mind he opened his mouth and said, “They’re expecting another one here, the worse of all, fire. And I’m on duty to try and stop it."

"Count me in." Peter scratches the back of his neck, "Babe…” Someone says something into his earpiece and he hands it to you.

“Agent Romanoff, glad to see you back.”

“Director Fury, good to be back.”

He laughs in the back, “let’s get this show on the road then.”

+ + +

“Night Monkey, huh?” You tease Peter.

He blushes, “Ned came up with it not me!”

You grab Peter’s hand in yours, smiling up at him.

“Ew physical affection,” Beck jokes, his glass of alcohol in his hand.

You stick your tongue out at him, sipping from you and Peter’s orange juice.

“You guys love each other don’t you?” He questions.

Peter squeezes your hand, “yeah we do."

Beck smiles from the rim of his glass, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You figured it was because it reminded him of his love. The one he couldn’t save. His family.

"I was devastated when my mom died,” You said in hopes of relating to Beck. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye, one minute she was telling me how proud she was of me and that she loved Peter. The next, I was plunged into battle looking for her. As I was fighting I brushed it off and figured she was here and that between everyone I would never find her.” You swirl the orange juice in the glass, staring down at it. The memories still too vivid. Your eyes began to water, “When Tony died, I thought for sure I would find her there. She would mourn for him, but when I got there she wasn’t. I ran to Tony and he just-” the tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you flashback to that moment.

“Mom!” You shouted desperately. “Mom?” Throughout the whole battle, you hadn’t found her, of course with all the heroes that thought was next to impossible. She could’ve changed her costume too, five years. You didn’t know what she looked like. Chaos swirled around you like fog in the morning. Then, there was silence. You turned around to see Uncle Tony on the ground. Everyone was gathering around, kneeling by his side. Your mother would be there for sure. However, when you got there with Peter, Tony only had a few minutes left. You stood behind Peter as he broke down. A hand was placed on your shoulder, you spun around so fast thinking it was your mom. Instead, you came face to face with your godfather, the same look as everyone else.

“Hey, sunshine,” Clint said.

"where is she?“

”(Y/N)-“

"Where is she, Clint?! She’s my mother!" The look on his face says it all as you collapse into his arms sobbing.

Clint holds you to his chest as you cry. "She sacrificed herself for us,” He said quietly. “I fought her till the end, but your mother beat me to it. She was always the better one of us.“

Clint pulls out a letter from his suit, "open it when you’re ready."

When MJ figured out that Peter was spiderman, she also learned that Mysterio was no mystery, but a liar. You and Peter instantly freaked out, you both had agreed on giving Beck one of the most advanced pieces of technology ever, lord knows what he was planning on doing.

"We have to tell Fury,” Peter said, zipping up his suit.

“No shit,” You reply, snapping on your mother’s wrist cuffs.

“MJ, Ned, you can’t tell anyone this,” Peter warned, halfway out the window.

“You both are already in danger being involved with both of us, so please stay low."

They both nod as they watch Peter grab you in his arms and swing-out the window, you wave at them over Peter’s shoulder. As soon as you arrived in Berlin, Fury picked you up and drove you to the headquarters. Both of you were frantically explaining what Beck had done and that there was little time left before he advanced. Just as Fury started putting together a plan, the room begins to disintegrate.

"Mysterio,” You whisper, looking around for him. Out of nowhere, Peter tackles you to the ground as a drone fires at you, it hits Fury in the chest and you scream. Peter stands up, checking for him when the drone shoots him and he goes falling.

"PETER!”

Your reality begins to shatter as Mysterio’s drones build an illusion.

"You know, neither of you had to die,” Beck’s voice sounds. “really, if Peter kept his mouth shut I wouldn’t have had to kill him. And if hadn’t introduced you, the love of his life. Daughter of the famous Black Widow, you’d still be on your trip to London.”

"No.”

He laughs, "it didn’t have to be this way."

The room faults and you’re suddenly back at Stark Tower in the training rooms. The smell of sweat clouding your senses.

"Your mom never escaped the Russians did she?”

The room is suddenly swamped with bright red blood, like your mom’s hair and the nefarious red room she was trained in. The blood flows in, knocking you off your feet with the force. You shriek as you fall back into it, your skin becoming that of a tomato. You try to stand, but keep slipping. More and more rushes in, until you’re drowning in it with no clear direction of up.

"HELP ME!”

Peter would recognize that voice anywhere, "where is she?!”

Mysterio laughs, projecting the image of you drowning in blood.

Peter bangs on the glass until it shatters, breaking reality as the shards rain down on him, but not one speckle of blood. He’s suddenly facing himself.

You’re yanked from the liquid by a forceful hand, tugging at your hair and thrusting you onto the hard concrete, as you’re thrown down a sound like shattered glass resounds through the room and you continue to fall. You land in the snow, bright red snow now. You scramble out of it, slipping as it melts. You begin to sink, there’s nothing to grab onto. When suddenly a hand appears, the same gloved hand of your boyfriend, Peter. It’s just out of your reach when you finally get the strength to grab it, he pulls you up. The room changed again on your on one of Tony’s jets. Peter looks at you and pushes you off the jet.

Your cries fall silent as the wind drowns them out. You land in front of a mirror, your hair is the color of your moms, your black suit stained red, lips dipped in blood.

“You were so beautiful,” Your mother coos from behind you. “but your beauty will fade.”

“Mom!”

Natasha draws out a knife, her finger dances dangerously on the edge. The fantasy ends when an arrow whisks past your ear, straight into the mirror where your heart is. Except, it’s not you anymore. It’s Peter, blood soaking through his suit. He falls to his knees as blood pours out of his mouth, you scream looking for him. The room is pitch black, the mirror only showing Peter.

“Stop it!! Stop it!!” You shout, banging on the mirror, a hand grabs you and pulls you through, it’s Peter’s.

“If you were brave enough, we would all still be here.”

“that’s not true.”

Peter fades away and Natasha appears grabbing your chin tightly, “you know it is.”

The ground opens up and she falls through, you dive after her and slam down on the concrete. Dazed, you stare blankly at the sky waiting for another trick. There’s a loud bang beside you, and you see Peter roll of a car.

“Peter.”

“(Y/N)?” He starts running toward your broken form, just as he’s about to get there the drones come back and his sense of direction is lost, but to you, he runs up and picks you up in his arms. Peter sets you down, an arm around you. And yet, you didn’t feel safe. You squirm against him and he holds you tighter.

“Let go of me, Beck.”

“The show’s just opening.”

The real Peter runs into the room, “It’s just an illusion.”

“It is Peter?”

“I-”

“You don’t know the difference, do you?” Beck’s hold on you become tighter, you let out a gasp.

“Stop it,” Peter warns, aiming a gloved hand at him.

Beck just laughs, you take the opportunity and kick the back of his knees, he doubles over and you use the chance to throw him over your shoulder.

“(Y/N)? It is you!” Peter cries, running to you.

“I control reality.”

“NO!"

As if on cue, the world shifts one more time and you’re back in your room. Sunlight filtering through the windows, your bed nicely made. A few stuffed animals sitting on it. You’re home. Something bangs in your desk drawer, curious you walk toward the source. The banging gets louder until the desk is shaking, you open the drawer and a letter flings out. The envelope is black with a red seal, where it now has small teeth. The letter grows in size, filling up the whole room as you cower in the far corner.

That damn letter. Your bedroom becomes encased in black gloom, the ground under your feet begins to tremble. You look down as small words start to appear, first your name at the top. It’s the letter your mom wrote to you. Panic sweeps through your veins and you begin to run, words ripple under your feet as you try to escape the inevitable. The paper begins to curl, now chasing you like a wave, every five seconds you turn around, only to see it get closer. The page chases you until the end, where you stumble and stare into the dark. A cloud of green forms at your feet when Mysterio appears.

"Please, stop,” You plead, you’re covered in blood, exhausted and scared for your life.

He laughs a hollow sound. Eyes glittering with hatred. He begins to walk toward you when shots are fired and he falls to his knees. Fury is limping behind him, you run up to him and he tosses his arm over your shoulder.

“Director, are you okay? Where’s Peter?”

Fury laughs, “I’m great.” His voice morphs into that of Becks. “Peter, not so much.”

Peter stumbles in front of you, slumping to his knees. Much like you if Beck didn’t possess such a strong grip. Beck begins to recite a monologue as Peter backs up slowly.

“Your girlfriend here, she didn’t have to die either. It pains me to have to do this.” Beck releases his grip as you fall to the ground, legs throbbing with pain and exhaustion.

“(Y/N)… Beck please, don’t, not to her.”

“Oh, you won’t have to see it.”

Peter’s pained expression changes to confusion and at that moment, the illusion drops and a train comes hurtling to Peter. You don’t even get to scream before he’s gone.

Beck turns to look at you, “you’re coming with me.”

[molanran]

again - huening kai

summary: even after coming home, he can’t deny old feelings.

word count: 3.1k

now playing: walking away - craig david & paradise - nct 127

notes: aged up characters

m/n felt his mouth go dry as he stared out of the window at the beautifully decorated house, sprinkles of snow dotting his vision, like snow angels falling. feeling the urge to feel the stinging south korean breeze against his face, he rolled down his window and was greeted with a soft push tickling his cheeks.

'it's good to be home after all this time, isn't it?' he thought to himself as he unbuckled his seatbelt and exited his car.

'yeah,' m/n thought happily. 'yeah, it is.'

--

"welcome home, m/n~" yeonjun greeted him with a large smile and a peck on the check. "how have you been?"

m/n smiled up at the older man, taking in his still young appearance and then moving his gaze towards everyone else who was busy decorating every inch of the large house with holly and wreaths and mistletoe.

it was the twenty-third of december and they still haven't decorated. usually, soobin would have insisted to start decorating the month before but even he seemed to have procrastinated in honor of the holidays.

"i'm fine, thanks, hyung," he answered. "how are you and soobin, hyung?"

"busy," yeonjun sighed, pulling away from him, putting a hand on his forehead and shaking it in disappointment. "there's been a lot of things happening recently and on top of that, work isn't letting down at all. i've only managed to get a few days off including new years and then i'm right back into it. not to mention only the outside of the house has been decorated and i've been rushing to buy all the things and when i finally have a moment of rest, i have to get ready for the party! when i see soobin, he better hide because i'm this close to punching him."

m/n gave a laugh, the feeling of familiarity making him comfortable. soobin would have greeted him first if he wasn't causing trouble with the others.

it's been a year since he's returned home for christmas, and honestly, it felt as if nothing has changed.

"m/n!"

but it has.

"kai!" m/n smiled up at his adorable friend who was waving at him from the top of the holly-clad stairs.

"how was jeju island?" kai asked as he hurried down the stairs. "how are you? are you staying for good?"

m/n could only beam at his younger friend, forcing himself to stay standing where he was, waiting for kai to fling his warm arms around him. usually, he would have met kai halfway up those stairs with a large smile on his face and tears practically pouring out of his eyes; but then again, should things have been like they were usually, he wouldn't have gone to jeju island for a year.

"it took you a while," m/n teased kai as the younger flung himself at him, resulting in both of them falling on the floor. "how've you been?"

kai listed off everything important that happened throughout the year as they walked upstairs, m/n stayed silent. he couldn't trust himself to say a word. kai was trying so hard to pretend that nothing happened between them a year ago and m/n was terrified that he would say something that would make them even more awkward. he didn't want any more uncomfortable emotions between himself and kai, it would only break them further apart.

"i managed to convince yeonjun-hyung to let us share a room again," kai said with slight nostalgia as they turned towards their room. "it took a lot but i put it back the way we both like it."

"you didn't have to," m/n managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he brushed his bangs from his eyes, walking past the door without sparing it a glance.

kai was silent and m/n turned to find that he stopped walking.

"you feel far away, hyung."

m/n stopped as well, clenching his fists tightly for a moment before raising his eyes to meet kai's strong gaze head-on.

"you're being stupid," he gave the younger a smile, loosening his fists and rubbing his nape nervously. "i just had a long flight and the food was awful."

he took a step towards kai and placed a soft hand on his shoulder.

"that reminds me," m/n spoke, pulling away quickly while they continued to walk along the length of the hallway. "how is taehyun?"

kai shrugged and muttered, "beomgyu finally confessed his feelings."

"they're finally together?!" m/n said in surprise, ignoring the nagging voice in his head to shut up.

"yeah," kai ran a hand through his locks of hair. "they got together around valentine's day. taehyun only reminds us of that every other day."

m/n let out a polite laugh as they continued to stroll around the large house, exchanging stories that happened during the year he spent on jeju island.

he had left for jeju the day after last year's christmas dinner, stating that he applied for and gotten a job working as a wedding planner's assistant. he personally didn't care for any job but after he had encountered jane and her passion for making other people's wedding a special day, he had decided that because he didn't have one of his own, he would support someone who found something they loved doing.

his life on the island was simple. it wasn't extravagant in any sense, and there were times he wished he was back home with everyone else.

"hey, m/n,"

m/n glanced towards soobin, the older smiling at him in delight.

"hey soobin, how have you been?"

after a quick exchange of hugs and greetings, soobin finally lets him go.

"where's kai?" his dark eyes glimmered. "you two would never go anywhere without the other, what changed?"

panic rose in his chest when kai came into view behind soobin. at first glance, kai looked emotionless but after a calculating moment, his expression turned into one of darkness, slowly seeping through his facade.

"kai?" m/n reached in the younger's direction, making soobin turn in surprise as well.

just as his fingers brushed against the younger's arm, kai tore away from him and ran down the hall, accidentally knocking over beomgyu who was trying to wrap tinsel around the tree. m/n followed him closely, sparing others a quick greeting, before following after kai's footsteps.

"m/n, what are you doing? is something the matter?"

m/n stopped and turned to find yeonjun standing behind him, a worried look on his face. he managed to spare a smile and replied quietly, "we're fine, hyung."

yeonjun shot him a look as if to say, 'do you really think you can lie to me?'

instead, the older let out a sigh and said briskly, "okay then. the party's about to start soon so go and get ready."

"yes hyung," m/n resigned as he started heading up to his shared room with kai. "i'll see you later."

--

m/n stood to the side, holding a glass of juice as he watched everyone interact with each other, multiple hugs and greetings being exchanged.

he sighed as he recalled last christmas when he felt like himself and happily interacted with everyone. now, he was being so falsely polite that he knew that he was getting some worried glances and concerned looks.

"m/n?"

m/n turned towards the voice, recognizing it immediately, and looks into the smiling eyes of one choi beomgyu.

"hey, beomgyu,"

"it is you!" beomgyu encompassed him in a hug before giving him a once over. "how are you?

'his smile's not fake anymore,' m/n looked at beomgyu in fascination while taehyun greeted him with a brief hug.

"look, beomgyu-hyung! cake!"

m/n laughed as taehyun dragged his boyfriend towards the dessert table, pouting when soobin glared at the both of them.

"hey ya, m/n~" soobin approached them, wrapping his arms around m/n's shoulders. "you guys are looking so grown up now, you kids are making me feel old."

"you are old," m/n shook his head with a grin, refraining himself from laughing. soobin looked insulted before knocking m/n's shoulder with his fist.

"you're older than me!"

--

m/n glanced in kai's direction, mildly surprised when he found his gaze returned. the younger's eyes were always a bright dark brown while his own always seemed to be dull. they were so different, but alike, balancing each other out despite the one year age difference. the others would say that sometimes they were the same person. but m/n has changed while he was on jeju, and those days are long gone now.

"hey, m/n!" yeonjun called out. "you have a call from a 'jane'."

m/n turned his attention towards his hyung and nodded before glancing back at kai to find that he, too, had reverted his attention back to something else. he sighed and stared after kai longingly before turning his attention back to yeonjun.

"thank you, hyung," m/n swallowed the lump in his throat and held the phone to his ear. "yeah?"

"m/n," jane sounded so distressed, she reverted to english. "i need you back here right away."

"jane, i just got here."

"i know and i'm sorry. but there's been a mixup with the caterers and the photographer just quit on us and the bakery won't get the cake done in time and-."

"i get it, it's fine." m/n sighed, sticking his free hand into his pocket as he glanced out of the window to see the snowflakes fall, one by one. "at least let me stay tonight and i'll be back by tomorrow's afternoon."

"i'm sorry, m/n," jane sighed.

"it's fine, love," m/n smiled, the pet name rolling from his tongue casually. "just be lucky you're one of my favorite people in the world."

"you're one of my mine too," jane's voice broke on the other side. "i'm happy that we're friends."

"me too." he smiled, moving away from the commotion towards a quieter part of the house.

"i promise that i'll even make you a home-cooked meal for christmas. i'll get nancy and hyebin to come out and nayoon and daisy too."

"nayoon did say that i would be around for christmas," m/n laughed as he remembered the redhead not giving him a hug when they dropped him off at the airport, instead, smiling and patting his shoulder like she was expecting him to come back. "looks like she got her wish."

"she's going to be full of 'i told you so's when you get back." they both laughed happily because they knew it was true.

"i'll get going, love you" m/n breathed.

"love you too, m/n. see you tomorrow."

they hung up and m/n clutched the phone tightly in his fist, the veins of his hand pulsing.

he absolutely loved working with jane, so much that they considered each other family. she had shown him around the town, taking him to various restaurants and shopping places, eventually introducing him to nancy, hyebin, nayoon, and daisy. they were his extended family and if the occasion would allow it, he'd love to bring them to seoul to meet his other family. his familiarity with jane eventually moved into him teaching her english, and her teaching him how to cook without burning the house down.

he had considered dating her, eventually beginning a relationship that ended up being too weird because it felt like they were kissing a sibling. this caused them to grow even closer to the point where they even shared a house together.

"m/n!"

he managed to snap himself out of his thoughts and smiled weekly at the younger.

"yeah, kai?"

"you have a girlfriend?"

m/n observed the panting kai and answered with a hesitant, "why?"

"why? because you didn't tell me!" kai placed an arm around his shoulders. m/n could only gaze at the younger's beaming face. "you should have brought her! i'm sure yeonjun-hyung would have loved to have people who weren't guys here!"

m/n felt something in his stomach pull at him. he wanted to be selfish about this. wasn't kai disappointed at all? didn't the fact make him feel sad, even just a little?

he stopped walking down, staring down at the clean floor he was standing on. being here in seoul, he actually felt lonely. sure, he had been heartbroken and left for jeju, but he never felt this alone before. he had been rejected by kai before, so why did kai's acceptance leave him feeling more hurt and upset than before?

"you don't care, kai?" m/n asked quietly, feeling his nails unconsciously dig into the palms of his hands. "that i have somebody else?"

kai stayed silent and m/n took that as the inevitable reply he didn't want to hear.

"well, of course not," m/n laughed bitterly, not daring to raise his eyes. "you have absolutely no reason to care, right?"

"m/n-hyung," kai spoke, but m/n didn't hear him.

dozens of emotions ran rapidly through his body. anguish. remorse. rage. especially rage. he was furious with himself, it was foolish of him to hope that kai cared. why does he continue to hope that the younger would still reserve a place in his heart? especially after that awful goodbye.

"excuse me," m/n excused himself from kai's company and ran blindly out of the room.

his stomach was shifting uncomfortably and his chest felt like it was on fire. he needed to get away, he needed fresh air.

where? where was it? where was that damned door?

"hyung!"

m/n swore he felt his arm almost tear out of his shoulder as a hand grasped it tightly, the grip strong enough to keep him from running away anymore. he lifted his gaze and realized that he was shedding tears he promised himself he would never shed again.

"m/n-hyung," kai murmured softly, surprised at the tears running down his cheeks.

"let go, kai," m/n was shaking. he promised himself long ago that he would never break in front of kai and what happened? he was pathetic and weak and didn't deserve to even hope to be someone loved by kai.

"m/n," kai repeated, his own sparkling eyes gazing warmly into m/n's dull ones.

"what?" m/n spat out impatiently. he wanted to leave. now.

"i love you,"

and then, his world stopped. his mind went blank and all he could hear were the words he dreamt of, echoing inside his mind. m/n didn't really know how it happened, but when he felt warm lips pressed against his own, his knees buckled. even though kai had quick reflexes, he wasn't strong enough to stop them from hitting the floor, landing on top of the older and pulling him into a tight embrace.

m/n quickly pulled away before he felt himself getting lost in kai's warmth.

"what? how? what are you talking about?" he exclaimed, holding his hand to his lips "you shouldn't say or do things you don't mean, kai!"

"who says i didn't mean them, hyung?" kai asked, looking slightly hurt and guilty.

"those weren't the words you said to me when i confessed to you last year!" m/n was stuck in an abyss of self-loathing, again. he didn't want to say those words, he didn't want to tell kai how glad he was the younger finally returned his feelings. he didn't want to hold kai and never let him go again. but his mouth was running on autopilot. "is this meant to be some kind of sick joke?"

"no," kai said, taking a step towards him. "i didn't realize it until you were gone."

m/n took a mirrored step back, trying to resist falling underneath all the feelings he kept buried.

"right," he let out a small tired laugh. "and i'm the wizard of oz. i can make you fall in love with me after i walk out that door."

"stop denying it, hyung" kai sounded angry and irritated, but most of all, tired. "do you think you're the only one who suffered this year?"

m/n was silent. the truth was, he really thought that he was the only one suffering. he never realized how difficult it must have been for kai to live his life alone when they originally planned to go through everything together. but now, they lead separate and somewhat happy lives, there isn't a place for him in the other's life now.

"thank you, kai," m/n let his defenses fall slightly, leaning against the wall behind him. "but i don't think i can-"

his sentence was cut off when kai lunged for him desperately as if trying to prevent those words from escaping his lips. he was knocked to the floor painfully, kai's entire weight pressing down on him. after a few painful moments, he managed to disconnect their lips as he hollered, "kai! it hurts!"

"don't leave me," kai murmured into the tan boy's neck. "i don't think i can take it if you leave me again, hyung!"

m/n felt his eyes water as he held the younger boy closer to his chest, savoring the warmth that kai offered. he wanted to stay with kai from now, but then he'd have to change his life again. could he do it?

"i have to go tomorrow, kai," m/n thought aloud, playing with the dark strands of kai's here.

"you can't leave me!" kai clung to him tightly. "i love you, hyung! i'm not too late, am i? i can't be!"

m/n chuckled lightly and continued to think aloud, "i'm leaving tomorrow because of a work emergency. after everything's taken care of, i'll be back. i promise."

"but-" kai stuttered. "but you'll be gone for christmas."

m/n could just imagine the pout playing on kai's lips, and smiled, "that's fine. something tells me i'll be here a lot next year."

"yeah," kai murmured to himself, sounding relieved. "yeah... hey, hyung?

"yeah?" m/n felt his eyes droop slightly.

"i love you, hyung."

"i love you too, kai."

--

"alright, i'll see everyone in a few weeks." m/n pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. "i'll be back right after this whole catastrophe is taken care of."

"say hello to jane for me." yeonjun smiled.

"i'll make sure to bring her back with me." m/n moved forward to give yeonjun a quick hug.

"bye m/n-hyung," kai looked and sounded slightly annoyed at the mention of jane.

"bye kai," m/n hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear, "this is the last christmas we'll be apart."

"promise?"

"promise."

[papipopsicle]

DOUBLE DARE

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Harrington!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: In which Billy isn't 'King Billy fucking Hargrove' after the events at the Byers house, he's remorseful and in so much more pain than anyone ever seems to notice.

Song: Dizzy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing, symptoms of PTSD

Words: 2.8K

feedback is always appreciated

Hawkins wasn't the kind of place a teen could take angsty strolls, look up at the sky for a while and all their life problems would be solved. Winter lasted until February, and summer started at the end of July, the months between left void of the joy of sun or snow. It was within this time that Y/N and Billy found solace in each other's chaotic existences.

They'd met a couple times before their relationship had a label, once not knowing each other, and the next, knowing too much.

The first was in the bitter winds of a November night. Y/N Harrington was forced to transfer to Hawkins High after fighting with another girl at Lakewood Academy over something nobody knew. She wasn't happy about it, after working her arse off for the last seventeen years of her life, only for the dream to be someone special and someone her parents would be proud of, to be ripped away from her.

Steve never made it any better, it was fine when he'd bring home random girls while their parents were away (which was more often than not), at least then her record player was loud enough to shut out the moans.

But Nancy had to come along and fuck everything up. Y/N was sickened at the idea of her brother dating her childhood best friend. That wasn't even the worst part though, the sick fucker had to go break his heart too.

Having Steve wallow in self pity for a few days was one thing, but hearing him cry himself to sleep days on end was entirely another.

She took her eye off the ball to make sure it was a sound that never met her ears again. And people at Lakewood began to talk, next thing she knew, Y/N was thrown out when Bethany Wyatt somehow fell unconscious and woke up with a black eye and busted lip.

Her older brother was surprisingly comforting, but the house felt all too suffocating, even without their never-to-be-seen parents around. It took six days for her to finally snap- being cooped up in the same four walls, sappy romcoms playing in the background whilst Steve tried to shrink her after getting an 'A' on his latest psychology paper.

"Leave me the fuck alone, for Christ's sake I'm not one of those kids you babysit! Go piss in Declan's cereal." Y/N roared, cartoon steam clouds escaping her ears.

She and Steve weren't close like some siblings, they didn't do hugs or say 'I love you'. They clashed and fought; the older boy thinking he's always right and that he knows everything, only setting off Y/N's explosive anger.

Steve groaned and stormed up the stairs, following his sister to her room, "His name's Dustin- fuck! You're so immature, you know that? Maybe I do need to babysit you, maybe then you'll learn to accept that you're sad about being kicked out of Lakewood, instead of biting my head off like a little bitch."

Y/N looked up at him incredulously, as if he'd just killed six puppies. She got up from her bed and stood right in front of him, pressing her index finger against his chest accusatory, "I'm not sad, dickwad, I'm furious because I defended myself against a bully and I'm the one who gets punished. It's not my fault she learnt to fight with her words and I fight with my fists. It's not my fault I'm like this, Steve!"

He stared at her for a few moments, watching his little sister's entire body move as her breathing became laboured and heavy.

She pushed past her brother and ran downstairs, "If I'm not back before you wake up, the demogorgon attacked me!"

"That's not-." Steve shouted, only to hear the front door slam shut halfway through his sentence, "funny."

It had been three months since Eleven had returned and saved Hawkins for the second time, Y/N knew they were no longer out there. She also knew it would strike a nerve in her brothers damaged soul and in that moment it was exactly what she wanted. The Harrington girl would probably regret it when she arrived back home in the early hours, knock on Steve's door and he'd tell her he was the one out of line and that it was okay. After all, he was the reason behind why she got expelled.

Y/N found herself running towards the school. In her short pleated skirt, fishnets and combat boots, the girl sprinted all the way through the woods until she found a clearing, and began walking on the side of the road. She should've been terrified to be out in the darkness all alone after the sights that had scarred her eyes, but it calmed her disturbed mind. Her problems faded to insignificance at the idea of being attacked by an inter-dimensional monster.

Her anger had dissipated after an hour or two of strolling back up and down, and she finally began to feel at ease in the cool midnight winds. That's when the sound of a turbocharged engine collapsed her serenity. She turned on her heel, letting the asphalt crunch under her foot as she squinted into the oncoming headlights.

Numbness had spread far enough over her body not to care whether the driver was Steve, a total stranger, or maybe even a creature from the upside down ready to kill her. Y/N shrugged it off and continued wandering, moving into the forest clearing so the muscle car didn't hit her if the driver wasn't paying enough attention.

Her steps became hurried as she heard the engine quieten, gaze kept forwards until the car picked up enough speed to pass her then completely stop. The air in her lungs felt trapped, feet planted to the broken up edge of the road.

"Hey!" A young yet deep male voice called, a mop of gentle dirty blonde curls appearing over the roof as the sound of the metal door opening and shutting cut away at the silence Y/N found herself stuck in. She didn't dare to move, eyes wide in a hazy mix of fear and intrigue.

He began moving around the car, closer to her frozen figure and stopping at what he deemed a safe distance. Billy looked her up and down, not in his usual 'I wanna fuck you' way towards the opposite sex; he checked over every inch of her exposed skin to make sure there were no signs of injury. When he finally met her eyes, he was stunned. They were the colour of milk chocolate edged with a deep forest-green. The two colors seemed to swirl together like moss creeping over rich soil.

Beautiful, he thought, not noticing the deep violet bags which sat beneath them. Y/N hated her eyes for them, yet they hadn't crossed his mind.

"Are you okay, Bambi?" Billy asked cautiously, taking a small step closer to her. His voice felt soft like a warm hug, yet she knew how it could easily be laced with venom. She'd seen his type before, knew how they could act so smooth then at the flick a switch be encased by rage if the word 'no' was introduced to them. She'd dated that type, been manipulated by their silver tongue and soft touch.

"I'm fine." Y/N's voice found the courage to speak, her body pushing past his and continuing its disassociated roam down the empty road ahead. She didn't feel like speaking to anyone, didn't feel like doing anything. Her mind was a wormhole of desolation and all she wanted was some peace away from home life and school life.

"If you want me to get in my car and carry on, I can. But, chances are you're feeling alone and don't-" Billy tried his best to do what he thought was right, he didn't have to stop when he saw her shivering figure at the side of the empty road. Hell, he probably shouldn't have.

"What you do doesn't really affect me, kid." Y/N snarled with no enthusiasm, her words falling hollow and getting lost in the wind.

The girl noticed he didn't speak after that, yet she hadn't heard the distinct sound of a car door opening and shutting either. She turned her head a fraction, not wanting to give him the attention he seemingly so desperately wanted from her but interested to know if she was about to get killed. Y/N rolled her eyes irritably as his taller figure appeared beside her own.

A few minutes passed as they ambled along the never ending barren road side by side without a word exchanged. Y/N felt oddly comfortable, more so than she did in that stupid private school or at home with Steve in constant seldom silence or rage filled bickering.

This silence was pleasant and held no secrets. Mostly due to the fact they were perfect strangers, no lingering expectations to be great or even good. Y/N stole another glance at him through the dark moonlight, his thick shoulder length hair appearing soft in its naturally curly state, and his flawlessly chiselled face hidden by plump cheeks and long eyelashes.

He could've committed some kind of atrocity for all she knew, but is company felt comforting and she wasn't one to judge.

"D'you just plan on following me around all night, then?" Y/N's voice sounded much more mellowed and velvety, her heartbeat no longer erratic in her ears allowing her mind some peace.

Billy sighed and rubbed a hand across his face before stuffing both into the pockets of his denim jacket to find some kind of warmth, "Haven't exactly planned that far ahead, gotta be honest with you. I don't know, I just needed to clear my head, and it seemed like you were doing the same."

"You could say that." Y/N scoffed, her numb mind somehow still managing to make her legs move forwards without stumbling. The biting cold air pricked at her paled skin, but she enjoyed the feeling. It was better than feeling nothing at all. "Fucked up shit happens a lot considering nothing happens around here."

"Did someone hurt you?" The words filled with unease tumbled from his mouth before he had the chance to catch them. Billy couldn't tell himself why he cared, why he was still walking along side this stranger in the dead of night on a Tuesday. Wednesday, now. But after the events at Mrs Byers' house, he had realised he'd become the monster he feared most- his father. If there was anything he could do to stop that, it was all he had done for the past three months.

Y/N smiled at her own stupid actions coming back to the forefront of her memories. She shook her head, still smiling, "That's too complicated to answer right now. Unfortunately, I managed to fuck things up pretty bad all on my own this time."

"I'm listening." Billy's eyes wandered across the unending tree border as he let the girl gather her thoughts and decide whether to indulge him or not.

She did.

"A couple weeks ago I overheard some skanks from my school trash talking my family; you see my brother slept with this girl named Rosie once ages ago so she put herself on a pedestal and thinks her words are gospel now. She was joking with her friends about how we're basically orphans. And then, this is the real kicker, she made up a rumour saying I'd got crabs from sleeping with the gym teacher. Which is hilarious because I'm a virgin still. So, I confronted her, she denied it, and I may or may not have blacked out and beat the living daylights out of her. Last week the dean decided to kick me out, so as of next Monday I'll be back at the shit show they call Hawkins High."

It felt easy to spill her thoughts to this oddly handsome person she'd never met before. Y/N felt like adding, 'oh and there's supernatural demons running around trying to take you to another dimension and kill you, but don't worry, our telekinetic friend saved us. Twice.' But she liked him enough in that moment not to want to scare him away.

"I would've hit her, too." Billy chuckled dryly, realising this girl was stronger than she seemed. His voice picked up after a beat of silence, "Billy, by the way."

"Y/N." She smiled her first warm, genuine smile for a rather long time, and it felt strange and satisfying all at once. Silence fell upon them once again after that, not feeling unpleasant in the slightest. They walked side by side with no destination in mind, Y/N's body bumping against his every now and again. The fist time was an accident, after that she kept on doing it to see the small smile pull at the corners of his lips from the contact.

Her combat boots halted on the torn up asphalt, kicking up small stones a few feet across the road. Without indication to her newfound friend, she switched direction and began walking back towards the other end of the endless road back towards Hawkins away from Lakewood.

"Alright then." Billy quirked an eyebrow at her odd behaviour as he followed and fell back into aimless step with her.

"Billy," she enjoyed the way his name rolled off her tongue, "could you drive me home?" She looked up at him with hope in her eyes, half feigned half real. Y/N was a shell of a person, broken and cold after what her eyes had witnessed, but she really liked the way her mind felt at ease around this boy with fluffy hair and muscular arms.

"Sure."

They made their way up to the car in silence, time running by much quicker with Y/N's spirits lifted. Billy unlocked his Camaro and the two settled into their seats, the heater almost instantly turned up to the highest setting.

"Where are you from, Billy?" Y/N couldn't help herself but ask, she had a knack for wanted to know everything and managing to know everything one way or another. She enjoyed the ever so slight accent in his voice, certainly not from these parts. His olive skin, probably once a lot more tanned and bright, gave it away too. Nobody here got enough vitamin D to look that pretty.

She told him to take the next turning, filling the space his answer was about to fall into. Y/N noticed the sounds of AC/DC playing quietly, one of her all time favourite songs. Steve would buy their albums and she'd buy Madonna when they visited the mall together, then swap when they got back to his car.

"California, my dad remarried and they both wanted a new start, so we ended up here." Billy answered calmly, voice tinged with anguish. The girl gave him another direction and told him to pull up two houses down from her own.

"If my brother saw someone giving me a lift home I think he'd murder you then me, so for everyone's safety it's best not to let him in on our little secret." Y/N grinned halfheartedly up at Billy, realising Steve wouldn't have gone to sleep yet and it was her fault. He was a real dick sometimes, but she wondered if he was the only person in the world to actually give a shit about her.

"Sounds like a real buzzkill." Billy joked with an unknown lightness to his tone, turning the ignition off and settling his gaze on her devastatingly brilliant eyes again.

Y/N nodded and leant over the centre console, wrapping her arms around Billy's much larger torso, he didn't react for a moment, not entirely sure what was happening, but he eventually returned the hug.

"Thanks for stopping earlier, tonight would've been a lot more lonely if you hadn't." Y/N unclasped her seatbelt and unlocked the door, sending the boy a truly heartfelt smile before they said goodbye to one another. He watched her walk down the road and disappear into her driveway, making sure she was safe before he left.

The Harrington girl quietly entered her house, taking off her rather muddy boots and making her way up to her brother's bedroom. She knocked quietly on his door out of politeness but didn't wait for an answer before opening it.

"Steve-" her voice was remorseful, this is how it always went.

He groaned a little from his work desk, eyes failing to stay open consistently, "I know, I'm sorry." Steve sent her a weak smile, knowing how hurt his little sister was at heart.

"Yeah," she sighed, "me too."

Y/N climbed into bed that night with the scent of Billy's strong cologne still clinging to her too, and it made her feel at ease. She slept well for the first time in a very long time, mind for once not plagued by creatures from another world.

Taglist:

@ilkaeliseb @florenceivy @annas-unicorun @astro-sweetheart @4everchrista @delicatelyherdreams @mautand @me-a-hopeless-romantic @buckysjuicyplums @lucyrocks86

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[chicken-flakes-writes]

Jack is Heard

Part 1 of The ABC Drabbles

Also read it here AO3 | fanfic.net

“You are an awful person, Jack Frost! You don’t even deserve to be called a person! You are a monster! An abomination! I hate you Jack Frost!” said a young, bright, sweet and yet terrifying little girl.

Jack Frost stood with his back pushed up against a tree with a heartbreaking look on his face. His eyes were filling with tears and he tried to blink them away but before he could, the little girl saw and said, “Aww. Is poor snowflake crying? Well, that’s too bad. I guess the baby needs a nap.”

Jack knew he should have saw it coming, but he definitely did not see the fist coming towards his face. He was knocked out on impact. He collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap. The girl stood above saying, “Night-night, Jack. I’ll be back.”

___________________

Jack slowly awoke to a pounding head. He groaned loudly. He sat up with a hand on one side of his head. He slowly stood up with a wince, looking around. He saw a lot of trees and noticed that snow was coming down really fast and with low visibility. Jack groaned again. Just what he needed, a blizzard that was out of his control.

Jack quietly asked the wind to take him away, but before he could leave, someone was coming towards him. It was a small girl with long hair and hard to distinguish features. She approached Jack quickly and Jack forced himself into the tree. That was the girl from earlier!

“Hello, Jack. I’m back! Did you miss me?”

Jack gasped trying to come up with something witty to say but before he could she continued on saying, “Cat’s got your tongue? Have nothing to say? That’s just too darn bad!” When she finished speaking, she punched Jack in the stomach. Jack bent over, gasping for breath. However she did not stop there. She kicked his legs out from under him and he fell. Jack instantly curled up, knowing what was coming next.

She kicked him, everywhere. She kicked his legs, his arms, his head, his stomach, his back, everywhere. She pulled a knife out of her boot. Jack cautiously peeked from his current position but flinched violently when he saw her holding a knife. He quickly ducked his head back underneath his arms.

“Oh, Jack,” she said in a sing-song voice. “There’s no need to hide from me! I just want to have a little fun is all.” She approached Jack with her knife and knelt down. She grabbed a chunk of Jack’s snow white and pulled it towards her. Jack tensed, afraid what was going to happen. She moved her knife quickly towards the hair. She chopped the chunk of hair off and moved towards another. This time she cut it closer to the roots. She kept doing this until she had all of his hair. She backed away from and made it appear like she was leaving but instead climbed the tree Jack was under.

Jack sighed when he felt her finally let go of his hair. He stayed still until he was sure she was gone. He uncurled from his ball and felt his hair. It was now spotty and nearly bald in other places and generally did not look good. He was glad that his hair would grow back eventually although it was slow going. He sighed and leaned against the tree, closing his eyes.

The girl watched silently from her spot in the tree. She had not moved a muscle. She did not want to accidentally make a noise and have Jack see her. That would not do at all. It would not be good.

She saw Jack lean against the tree and close his eyes. Yes, this would be perfect. She dropped silently down from her branch and leaned close towards Jack. Jack felt a breeze and opened his eyes and immediately backed away with a slight, hard to hear screech. In front of Jack, crouched the girl and her knife held in front of her, towards Jack.

Jack tried to back up further but he was as close to the tree as he could get. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best. He pretended that she was not there and that he was simply resting against this tree.

The girl saw Jack close his eyes and she knew he was going to ignore her. That didn’t matter to her though. She gripped her knife tighter and brought it right up to Jack’s neck and she saw and felt him tense. She smiled. She slowly, oh so slowly, brought her knife closer and closer to Jack’s neck. She slit his skin and some blood started dribbling down his neck.

Jack whimpered but the whimper was dismissed quickly. She pushed the knife further and further until Jack felt like screaming but he did not want to give her the satisfaction. She kept going until the knife was halfway gone. She then slowly, agonizingly, pulled the knife back out.

Jack clenched his teeth and was tense but there was nothing he could do. Finally, after what seemed to last for infinite, the knife was away from him and he opened his eyes. What he saw was unsettling. The knife was coated in blood, his blood. He looked past the knife and towards the girl who did it and saw a smile on her face. The smile frightened him.

Jack slowly and cautiously, grabbed his staff, and stood up. The girl just stood there, staring at him. Jack stared back, careful to show no sign of the pain he was in. Then, the girl just turned around and walked away. Jack watched her walk away until she was a speck in the distance. Then Jack flew to his lake to take care of his injuries to the best of his abilities.

____________________

Jack sat in the middle of his lake looking down at the reflective icy surface. He gingerly touched the cut at his neck and flinched when he felt the pain. He allowed a thin layer of frost to form over the gash. He then flew to his favorite tree and went to sleep. He didn’t wake up for a week.

When the week was up, his cut was healed and he felt like he was never attacked. He called for the wind to ask to fly away, but no sound came out. Jack frowned and tried again. He received the same results. Jack began to panic and started to try screaming but no sound was made.

Jack fell to the ground crying, freaked out because of the silence. He HATED silence. Silence meant nobody talking, and being alone and Jack HATED being alone. He tried to avoid it but sometimes, there was only so much he could do.

He lay there on the ground, tears falling down to the ice where they promptly froze and he sobbed, and sobbed until he was sleeping, and he still had tears streaming from his eyes.

____________________

It’s been years since Jack lost his voice. He has gotten over it, or at least, can ignore it for days, months, years. He hides the scar though. He wears a blue turtleneck as well a blue beanie that he found. He flies all over the world delivering snow to the children.

Jack loves to play with them even if they can’t see him. He just pretends. He is good at that. He has had a lot of practice. He flies to Burgess street plaza. He watches and plays with the kids. He even gave a little boy the best sled ride he will ever encounter in all his life.

It began to get dark and the kids started to dwindle indoors to warm up by the fires and drink hot chocolate next to their families. Jack smiled softly and began to fly towards his lake till he saw a something move in an alley.

Curious, Jack flew down to the alley and saw the mysterious shape move away. Jack followed out of curiosity. Quickly, he caught up the fast moving figure. The figure turned around and said, “Hello mate. It’s been a while, hasn’t it. Blizzard of ’68 right?”

Startled, Jack stepped back but relaxed quickly realizing it was just Bunny. However, he felt something being placed rapidly over his head, and Jack began to freak out. He kicked and punched but he never connected. He felt as if he was going in circles until he hit something with a loud thud. He climbed out of whatever restricted him and looked about in wonder.

He was in the North Pole, North’s workshop! Jack has been trying to get in their for years! He looked around and he saw all of them. He saw Sandy floating in a corner, sleeping; North talking to one of his yetis; Tooth, talking to her fairies, giving out orders; and Bunnymund just popping out of one of his tunnels. Jack was actually ecstatic.

Jack was in North’s workshop! He could not believe it! He had a large smile on his face despite being shoved in a sack only minutes before. “What are you so happy about, Frost? Up to any tricks today,” said Bunny. Jack’s smile lessened slightly but it was hardly noticeable.

“Jack, my boy! Glad you could make it! You are Guardian now. Play music!” Instantly music began and there was confetti and streamers coming down and Jack was startled. He slammed his staff to the ground and frost spread everywhere. It even coated quite a few elves.

Jack made a motion as if to say, “Knock it off!” None of them particularly noticed this though.

“Jack, sweetie, why did you do that?” Jack motioned to it all with angry scowl indicating it was too much. It was all too much. The noises, the activity, it was way too much and in such short notice.

The Guardians looked at Jack in shock. Shocked that he didn’t just say what was wrong.

“Jack, why won’t you just say? All these motions are confusing.” Jack stared at them. They didn’t know that he couldn’t talk? He stared at each of them individually and pointed towards his neck with a slashing motion.

Sandy understood what he meant immediately. He tried to catch the others’ attention but they were still thinking it through. Frowning, Sandy picked up the nearest elf and shook him vigorously making his bells ring. The Guardians and Jack looked at him and he pointed to his mouth and made an X motion and pointed back towards Jack. The Guardians looked between the two and then they got it.

Jack couldn’t talk just like Sandy! Bunny looked at Jack and said, “So this entire time, you could not talk? Even in ’68?” Jack looked at him and responded by putting his arms up as if to say “Exactly!”

“I’m sorry Jack! I had no idea. If I had known,” Tooth said but Jack walked over to her an patted her shoulder. The meaning was instantly understood. Jack smiled, glad he was finally being ‘heard’.

___________________________

The battle against Pitch has just ended and everyone was in North’s workshop. Sandy was back and everyone was happy. Jack sat leaning against a window looking out. North came up to him asking, “Jack. How did you lose ability to speak?”

Jack looked at him and sat thinking whether he should show North why he can’t talk. He lifted his hands and pulled down the neck of of his turtleneck revealing the scar. North gasped in shock as he saw Jack’s scar. “Oh, Jack. I’m so sorry. I wish I could have done something. Anything.”

Jack put his hand on North’s shoulder to stop him from talking and Jack gave him an ‘It’s okay’ smile.

North continued on, “No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve this, none of it!” Jack frowned at him and decided the best way to get his message across was to hug him. Jack got on his knees and wrapped his arms around North and hugged him tight. Surprised, North stopped talking, and wrapped his arms around Jack.

Jack climbed into North’s lap and stayed there, closing his eyes. North got the message, and picked Jack up with him. Jack snuggled into North as he was picked up. Ignoring the other Guardians’ stares, he took Jack into one of the guest rooms he had in the workshop. North pulled the covers down with one hand and placed Jack onto the bed. He pulled the covers up and tucked Jack in. Jack opened his eyes and smiled at North before he went to sleep. North smiled softly and left the room.

North sat in a chair in the globe room, ignoring the Guardians and drank a glass of egg nog contentedly.

________________________

It has been a week since the battle and Jack was still at the North Pole. North didn’t mind. He loved having Jack around. He brought fun to everything he did. Even the boring things. He even helped the yetis with the toys by testing them out. Jack has been very helpful.

North found Jack in the main toy production room testing out an RC helicopter. North smiled seeing Jack’s large grin on his face. He loved to see him so happy.

“Come Jack. Walk with me.” North began walking down a hall, and Jack followed. “Jack, you enjoy staying here yes?” Jack cautiously nodded his head. “And you have always wanted a home to come back to after a long day and spend time with family, ya?” Slowly, cautiously, Jack nodded his head again. “Jack, would you like to live here with me, and be my family?” Jack smiled a really big, grand smile and jumped hugging North. “Great! I show you new room! Yetis helped decorate! Come, Jack!”

Jack followed North bouncing up and down on his feet. After what seemed like a millennia to Jack, they made it to his new room. The door itself was a pale blue and jack opened it to see what the rest was. Jack smiled in awe.

His room was painted a very pale blue with silvery white snowflakes that sparkled in the night. His bed had dark blue covers and with the same snowflake design. His dresser, bookshelf, and wardrobe was all white. Jack turned around and hugged North around the middle. North wrapped his arms around Jack as well and said, “Welcome to the family, Jack. Welcome to the family.”

[shireness-says]

Echo

Summary: Sharing a heart has unexpected side effects - but maybe they can help say the things that need saying. A 4a heart-sharing AU, expanding upon a drabble by @welllpthisishappening. ~2.6K. Rated G. Also on AO3. 

~~~~~

A/N: Ok, so last week Laura wrote this snippet-y bit where Rumple crushed Killian’s heart so Emma gave him half of hers, and as it turns out, I have a LOT of thoughts about that. So, this is me running with it with her blessing. 

Super thanks to @snidgetsafan for fitting in beta duties between the end of the school year madness - you’re the best, babe. 

Without further ado, enjoy!

~~~~~

She doesn’t notice it right away, far too focused on the fact that Killian is able to hold her in his arms after being just a lifeless shell only moments before to process anything else. When she does notice, however, it’s impossible to ignore.

The thing is, she’s feeling too many things. Not in the usual way either, the way she’s treated her emotions for years where any feeling at all was one too many. No, these are emotions that shouldn’t be there in the first place. The enormous relief is foremost within her, but there’s hints of other things too - love and pride and confusion. Love isn’t that unusual - it’s something she’s been trying to ignore for longer than she’d care to admit - but the pride and confusion are out of place. She’s far too relieved to feel proud of herself right now even if that was in her nature, and she frankly has no reason to be confused. All of that mix of feelings somehow sits different within her too - more the impression of emotion than the actual thing. Like a shadow, maybe, or an echo. It’s almost like…

Oh.

Emma tenses as she realizes, and it sends a shadow-jolt of concern that’s not her own - concern for her - echoing through her veins. She probably should have realized something like this could happen when she gave Killian half of her own heart. Hell, she probably should have asked her parents about the side effects of their own heart-sharing once they’d remembered what her mom had done before the curse. In the moment though, there’d been no time to analyze and weigh all the pros and cons or consider every possible effect; there’d just been Killian, lying lifeless on the floor with his heart lying in ashes at his feet, and the deep conviction that he didn’t deserve that - that they didn’t deserve that, especially not when they’d both been starting to embrace the hope of their new relationship.

(She thinks that might have been part of the shock, too. Emma’s mother and father were always on the same page even before they shared a heart, the truest of True Loves with everything that came along with it. They probably barely even noticed the other’s feelings rattling around in their chests, already so attuned to each other’s every thought. Killian and her, though… well, until recently, Emma hadn’t even thought love was in the cards for her, let alone True Love . It’s only thanks to Killian that she’d started to believe the former; now, it’s only because of the success of their heart split that she’s forced to face the latter. They’d still been trying to learn about each other in the middle of all this insanity with the Snow Queen. (And, apparently, Rumplestilskin too; Emma only hopes Belle can get to the dagger before that demon can.) Their relationship had still been so young, if hopeful. It’s a new kind of pressure, knowing that their affection for one another - oh hell, why is Emma beating around the bush after all this, their love for each other - is pure enough to allow her to give him half her heart. It changes… everything , and as much comfort as Emma pulls from feeling exactly how much he feels for her, it’s a little terrifying to have her future presented so obviously.)

(Oh god, she hadn’t even stopped to think about the fact that this probably goes both ways, that he most likely can feel everything she does as well. Hopefully he’s able to feel everything beyond that burst of panic she couldn’t quite suppress and knows exactly how deeply she feels and how much she cares, even if she’s scared about what feeling this much means.)

(She thinks he might understand, though, the way that loving someone makes you vulnerable, makes you open to the deepest depths of pain alongside all the goodness to be found there too. After all, he’s lived through that hurt himself.)

“Emma?” he asks, reaching for her cheek in what is starting to become a familiar move. Even without the confusion and worry echoing in her chest, she’d be able to see it on his face in the furrowing of his eyebrows, the one she’s come to recognize even without the assistance of some True Love heart-splitting magic. “What’s wrong, love?” He doesn’t seem to have noticed the change himself, the way he has extra feelings not quite his own rattling around in his chest. Maybe it’s an awareness thing - her parents didn’t notice after the were returned to Storybrooke, after all, and they didn’t know either. Maybe the difference between her and Killian right now is that she knows that something should be different, had already halfway been watching for it.

(Maybe, too, their current emotions are so similar, just for different reasons - Emma panicking over everything their shared heart implies, and Killian over her own panicked reaction. What a pair they are, really, a couple of messed up idiots just trying to play it cool.)

“Nothing,” she tries to dismiss. “I’m fine.”

Usually, Killian would let it go, respecting her walls (no longer sky high, dismantling brick by brick with every affectionate touch and easy endearment, but still very much present), but today he pushes. Figures. “No, I don’t think you are,” he responds, stroking his thumb across the apple of her cheek. “Tell me, Emma. Let me help.”

She has three options in the face of his pleading: one, to continue to insist that nothing’s the matter (which she knows won’t work - an open book, he’d called her once, and she knows that still holds true, now more than ever); two, to spill it all, all her fears about embracing what seems to be a forever kind of love on the off chance that he doesn’t feel the same or won’t always feel the same (which is honestly kind of insane to even consider, like this man hasn’t conquered realms and time and given up his home for her, but it’s still a real and terrifying fear; or three, to get mad and focus on the danger he put himself in instead.

Obviously, she chooses the third. It’s easier that way.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Emma hisses, shoving at Killian’s chest. His face quickly shifts from concern, over to shock, before settling into something that looks an awful lot like guilt. God, she dreads finding out how he got into this whole mess if it warrants that kind of look. “I’ve already had to deal with this with Henry, and with Graham… I told you I couldn’t lose you too!”

“I know, love.” She can feel traces of his shame trickling through her veins as Killian hangs his head. Maybe she feels a little bad about this dressing down, but now that Emma’s started this, she has some questions that need answering.

“How long?” she demands.

“How long… what?”

“How long was it missing? How long was Gold in charge? Were you the one that took me on that date, or was he already pulling the strings? What was it, your hand for your heart?”

“No, no, that was just us, I promise, love. He didn’t have anything to do with that night.” Killian rushes to get all that out, but she can still see in his eyes that it’s not the whole story. Her lie detector doesn’t pick up anything - there’s no lie in his words to find, she trusts him on that, but she still knows Killian, and knows when there are things he doesn’t want to say for fear of scaring her or hurting her. ‘Open book’ goes both ways, or something like that. It doesn’t hurt that she can feel the way his (her?) heart rate picks up and the new rush of shame that comes with it, either.

“But it did have something to do with your hand,” she guesses.

Killian nods in resignation. “Aye. Maybe not directly, but that’s where it started. I know I said it was a gift, that there was no deal, but that wasn’t exactly true.”

“Killian…” she groans at the revelation, but he just keeps going right past her.

“The deal was that I wouldn’t tell Belle that the dagger he’d given her was a fake, and he’d give me my hand in return. I shouldn’t have done it, especially since I wasn’t positive that hers was a fake, but it seemed risk free. My hand was just sitting there; I knew he could reattach it, and I knew he wouldn’t do it without proper motivation. But then the events of the rest of that night… I was the one who beat the thief, Scarlet. I was so angry about our interrupted date, and I just… gave into that. Afterwards, I became convinced it was the hand that was the problem - that it was trying to turn me into the man I used to be.” Emma scoffs at that, drawing a rueful grin from Killian. “Ridiculous, I know. But I was desperate. By that point the Crocodile had switched the fake dagger for the real one, so when I went back to coerce him into removing it, I didn’t have that leverage any more. But I couldn’t risk hurting you , or Henry, so when he said that he’d remove the hand again in return for a small favor, I took it.” He sighs heavily. “Little did I know that favor would be absorbing the Apprentice into that blasted hat.”

“Killian,” Emma tries again, softer this time. She understands he feels the need to confess, but it just seems to be hurting him more than anything. She knows Killian, and she knows Gold; for once in her life, Emma is confident that this whole idiocy with his hand only started with the best of intentions.

Still, he won’t let her say anything. “After that, it was just a spiral I couldn’t get out of. Gold kept holding it over my head. I knew if you found out, you’d hate me for lying to you, and it would all be over between us. I finally worked up the courage when your magic went haywire and you were about to let the Crocodile suck you into the hat, but he got there first and deleted the speaking message I left you on your talking phone explaining everything. Thank the gods Elsa was able to talk you out of it. In the meantime, however…”

“He took your heart,” Emma finishes.

“Aye.”  Even without the dejected look gracing his face, Emma can feel the fear and sadness coming from him.

“None of this is your fault,” she assures him - maybe prematurely, since he hasn’t said anything, but she knows he’s thinking it all the same. It’s the little things like this that makes the success of their heart split make sense - the way they know each other better than anyone else, with or without declarations. It makes the panic recede just a little bit, even if she is still worried about how he’ll react when he finds out. “But I don’t get it - why ? Why would you make a deal with Gold, and for your hand of all things?” It just doesn’t make sense to her. He’s lived 300 years without the limb and been happy to avoid Gold since their Neverland detente; it doesn’t make sense that he’d do anything to change that.

Killian mutters something, too low for Emma to understand - a real first from her walking dictionary. “What was that?”

He sighs. “I just wanted to be a better man for you, love,” he replies quietly, still avoiding her eyes. “You deserve a lot more than some old run-down pirate. I can’t even hold you with both hands. Even when I was asking I knew that having my hand back wouldn’t make me the man you deserve, but it was a start.”

Emma stares at him with horror creeping up within her - her own horror. “Did I make you feel like that?” The words are barely a whisper when she manages to force them out. “Did I do that?”

Another rush of horror rushes through her, this time from Killian as his eyes pull wide and panicked to match. “Oh no, love, of course not, I just worry —”

“Because let me clarify now,” she interrupts. “I don’t care. I can’t tell you how little I care about the fact you’ve only got one hand. That’s so - that’s so stupid ! You are a good man , and I’ve never wanted you to be anything but exactly who you are.” It’s true; even in the beginning, when Emma didn’t quite know what to think of the flirtatious pirate, she’d been intrigued, one hand and shady past and all.

“I know that you think that now, love, but what if —” Killian tries to protest, but Emma isn’t having it.

“No! That’s not going to change!” Abruptly, she shoves at his chest. “Do you feel that?”

Killian pulls his brows together in confusion. “Do I feel you shoving at my chest?”

“Don’t get smart with me,” Emma warns. Not that she thinks that’s what he was trying to do in the first place, but she’s a little too on edge about everything to care. Score one for communication or something. “You’re feeling some frustration, right? But don’t know why? And it doesn’t really feel like a real feeling, more like a muted version.”

“Aye, but how do you know that?”

“Because you know how you’re still here, even after Gold crushed your heart? I split mine and gave you half. I’ve been feeling your emotions ever since you woke up, and it sounds like that works both ways.”

“Oh, Emma, you shouldn’t have done that,” he tries to protest. Emma hopes he can feel just how deep that stabs her soul.

“How can you say that?” she cries. “You were dead ! He killed you! I took a chance, and maybe it was dangerous, but I wasn’t willing for it to end like this. And it worked! You know what that means?” Killian shakes his head. “That we’re True Love . So don’t try to tell me that it wasn’t worth it, not when I almost lost that - lost you .”

They sit in silence for a few moments as Emma lets him process. It’s an awful lot to take in, she knows, but she can feel every bit of the awe that’s spreading through his body echoing in her own.

“You love me,” he finally says. It’s not a question; Emma assumes he can feel that glowing within her just as easily as she can feel his own love for her, a diffuse warmth that feels somewhere between a cozy blanket wrapped around her and the sun shining down on her skin.

“I do.”

Killian practically beams at the words, reaching to pull Emma close against his body. “I love you too,” he returns, almost giddy to finally say it.

“I know,” she laughs. “I can feel it.”

There’s nothing else to really say after that, but that’s alright - there’s other ways to say everything without words. The kiss they share is gentle, but thorough, passionate in its own way - lips just brushing over each other before the kiss deepens, allowing tongues to tangle as hands wander and bodies melt further into one another. When they finally separate, Emma finds her hands resting on Killian’s chest, right above where his half of their heart beats strongly beneath his ribs.

“Promise me you won’t ever do anything like that again,” she repeats, “because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I promise, love,” he swears. “I’ve got your heart to protect, after all.”

She doesn’t even need the shared organ to know that he means every word.

[gatortavern]

Johnny Jhonny in: A Christmas Calamity

A STORY/IT’S DONE!/ FOR @pjmaxsson ! Happy holidays from your @pnatsecretsanta, and apologies that this was sent out so late! (also as a PS, PJ gets his own gift in an epilogue, which will be coming soon!)

Johnny Jhonny In: A Christmas Calamity

“ARGH!”

Johnny Jhonny kicked one of the small snow piles haphazardly placed along the sidewalk. The holiday season, as with most things in Mayview, had been bizarre so far, with a mild snowstorm being followed by a mild warm front. Only a thin layer of snow remained, save for the large dirty piles left by the snowplows.

“Out of anyone I coulda gotten, I had ta’ get Isabel Guerra? That chick’s impossible to get information on!”

“Well if it’s any consolation, she probably won’t murder you if you get it messed up. Pretty sure Lisa knows I got Violet ‘cause she’s been giving me that creepy smile for the past three days. Plus, I don’t think RJ even got someone from our grade,” Ollie chimed in.

RJ nodded in agreement, their furrowed brow hidden by their hood.

“None of this would even be a PROBLEM if Mr. Garcia had handed out these assignments earlier!” Stephen cried out, waving his hands in an exaggerated motion. “THREE DAYS to deliver a Secret Santa present?! We’re gonna have to do our investigations separately!”

              The group, sans RJ, groaned at that. Gift giving for them was nothing to be taken lightly; each member of Johnny’s Gang would meticulously search for, or more often create, something for their target that would have some kind of personal connection for them, a tactic that extended to any poor fool that they got saddled with for a Secret Santa. This, of course, could take a bit of time to gather enough information to make such a gift, which the boys (and RJ) preferred doing together. That plan was now ruined thanks to Mr. Garcia sleeping through the day he was supposed to hand the slips out, on top of his continued forgetting.

              There was a nudge on Johnny’s arm, and he swerved to see where RJ was pointing. At the base of the hill they were slowly traversing down was his target, a maroon sweater barely peeking out under a stone grey jacket, mahogany hair lightly nestled at the shoulders. There’s no way Guerra wouldn’t suspect an ambush if the four of them went down, a thought Johnny saw reflected in his compadres’ eyes.

              “Go get ‘em, slugger!” whispered Stephen with a shove that was anything but soft, sending Johnny stumbling nearly a quarter of the way down the slope before he caught his footing. Halfway down the hill, Johnny stopped and gave a quick glance at his pals, who gave waves of encouragement and thumbs up as a response.

---

About three feet in, Johnny was able to gather one bit of information on Isabel Guerra:

She had really weird ideas for recreational activities.

After a few close calls, he had managed to tail her into a weird-looking cave mound. The damp walls seemed to eat up any light, as Johnny had soon found it hard to see even a foot in front of him, and the soft ground obscured any sounds he could have used to follow her. The paths were wide (he surmised that Ollie could easily walk beside him) and winding ever downward, and the bully soon realized that there were multiple sprawling paths. Johnny silently cursed himself for not charging his phone the day before. At least there would have been a small light source if he had.

The small, uneven muttering up ahead caught his attention.

“Oh geez. Oh man. D-did I go the right way? How are there so many paths? What if Mr. Max is hurt? What if that thing comes back? Ohhh…”

Slowly, Johnny crept up to the voice, hearing it fret over many things. He squinched up his eyes, trying to think. This definitely wasn’t Isabel-her voice could command the room, confidence would ooze from every sound she made.

“I can’t stay here worrying about this! Mr. Max needs me! But…”

“Who the heck’re you?”

              “WAAAUGH!”

Johnny could just barely make out the hazy shape of a boy about his age in front of him, quaking intensely. He wouldn’t have enough time to ruffle this one up, he figured. Got too far away from Guerra already. He’d have to make this quick in order to catch up to her and hopefully hear her let something slip.

“A’ight fella, this is the way it’s gonna work here. I’m feeling pretty generous t’day. Gotta make sure I get the deets on somebody real fast n’ stuff. I’m not even gonna stop ta’ beat ya’ up right now, my mood’s that good. Just tell me where the Guerra chick went.”

“Uhhh…I…don’t know who…that is..?” came the hasty reply.

“Er.. Isabel Guerra? Brown eyes, long brown hair, gray jacket? ”

“…Oh. OH!” The boy seemed to perk up a little upon hearing that. “That’s the scary girl’s name? The one from that weird dodgeball game, right?”

“Hitball, yeah, she was t’ other captain. Besides me.”

“O-oh, okay. I, uh, wasn’t paying too much attention to the game…mostly just watching Max. Ah! Are you the guy Max blocked that ball for?”

That one stung a little. If there was anything that made Johnny Jhonny uncomfortable, it’s someone taking a punishment that should’ve rightfully been his.

“Yeah…that’s me,” he said, the agitation creeping into his voice. “You gonna tell me where the girl went now, or are ya gonna stand here and waste my freakin’ time?”

“Well…I dunno where…Isabel, right? Went exactly…but if she’s in here, that means she’s going to help Max too! Which is good, because this place kinda scares me..”

Great. This kid wasn’t any help at all, Johnny thought to himself as he began to storm off. Well, as best as he could storm in this place, anyway, as the ground muffled all his footsteps.

“Uh, mister sir, you’re heading into a wall,” the boy provided helpfully right as Johnny smashed his face into a bed of dirt. “Are you able to see in here? Because it looks like you’re squinting pretty hard…”

“Oh, so you can see where yer’ goin’ in this pitch black mess?”

“A-a little, mister sir. This place has a lot of weird turns and forks and dead ends. If you can’t tell where you’re going, you could get pretty lost.”

Johnny suddenly had an idea.

“Right then, it’s settled! I can’t see a foot in fronta’ me, and yer’ too scared to fight…whatever it is you came in here fer’, so you get ta’ do the lookin’ and I’ll do the fightin’! I’ll let ya’ pay me back for it later.”

“Uh…ah…oh…kay”, came the uneasy reply. “There’s a path to your left. It’s straight for a while after that, from what I can see.”

And with that, the two set off.

---

Johnny couldn’t tell how long he’d been walking in silence for. At least with the Ed ambush a few days prior, he’d been able to gauge some method of progress by seeing just where Ed was and what he was up to. But here there wasn’t anything to see ahead of him. He could barely hear his own footsteps on the ground if he paid enough attention, but he couldn’t hear the other kid’s at all, even though with a glance he could see the kid steadily at his side.

He wasn’t scared, of course. It was just a dark silent cave, that’s all. Nothing that pathetic could scare Johnny Jhonny.

He was, admittedly, just a little creeped out. He needed something to keep his mind off of this. Besides Guerra, of course. No sense chasing Guerra with some hyped up senses that’d give him away.

“So what’s your deal, anyway? If yer’ so scared of everything, whatcha even come to a spooky cave for?” he asked.

The sad little laugh’s proximity made him jump.

“I was trying to go around with Max a little bit, to see the town again. I thought maybe I could become a little braver, maybe even help in a fight...but then a big spirit came up and grabbed him! I followed it here, but then Max dropped his bat trying to get out of its arms, and I rushed in to help and give it back to him. He can’t fight real good without it… but this is a big cave, and I can’t get the bat to him without going through it, and it’s dark and I got scared…”

Johnny stared at the kid with only the slightest expression of disbelief. “You wanna learn how to fight?”               “I have to be able to help out when he gets attacked! So I can have his back! Because that’s what friends do!”

There was a sense of conviction in the kid’s voice that wasn’t there before. A conviction immediately lost when the floor shook and a deep rumble emanated from below, if the higher pitched wailing that came from his position was anything to go by.

Once the rumbling stopped and Johnny confirmed that he could not beat the earthquake into submission, he turned and gently slapped his hand over the general area of his partner’s head. Although he missed his mouth entirely, it still worked wonders in stopping the kid’s terrified babbling.

“Tell ya what, ya picked a good day ta run into me. I’ll whip ya up into ship-shop shape so you can wallop all yer problems while I’m out nerd hunting. A’course, you’ll have to pay me back with interest…”, he said, cracking his knuckles for effect, but secretly impressed that the kid was trying to take initiative.

He was not expecting a shaky, uncertain “thank you” as a response, but it filled him with a weird sense of pride, and soon an exchange of stories began.

----

To the timid kid’s credit, he had kept his end of the bargain.

Johnny soon realized the kid was a good eavesdropper, since he mentioned that he only knew the girl for a few days. He would’ve quicker taken Isabel to be a dog person afraid of spiders than the other way around. Apparently she was close to her spider too, the one that she’d lost recently. Called it a friend. Johnny could relate; the loss of his boxer four years ago still hurt to think about somewhat. She was also Max’s friend, so of course she’d be into the freaky flipping and jumping around he did constantly. Between her and that spiky nerd dude, freaky movements seemed to be something of a requirement for being that kid’s buddy. He made a mental note to himself to practice some moves with his pals later to show him up.

Some of the facts were a bit harder to make sense of. According to him, she had come with some “scary guy with glasses” to help sort out a…evil whale frog the other day? Riding a paper horse? With the kid’s luck he probably found that weirdo history teacher that’s always wearing shades, but with the kid’s track record of jumping at the smacking sounds of Johnny’s hands, he could’ve been scared of pretty much anyone.

And if what the kid was saying was true, he had somehow managed to punch a teacher in the face for “being evil”. Not a bad start to a fighting career, even if he said that he ran and hid behind Max immediately after.

On his own side, Johnny had launched into relaying many of his and his gang’s bouts over the years, placing emphasis on each blow, duck and dodge. What started out as giving advice on which attacks are what, when people are giving them and how to take/sidestep them quickly derailed into making as great a story as possible. Johnny was just too used to framing these stories for his pals. His partner didn’t seem to mind it too much, though, and every hushed “wow” and question of what happened next only served to hype him up further. He told of turf wars and stakeouts, of the gang catching up to a group of cyclists that had bought the last of the candy that RJ had been looking forward to all week, even his battle with Ed and the Great Starch Hunt.

“’An then he gave us stars from his own pocket for beatin’ him, and Ed took off for greater quarry. Gotta meet up with him later to get RJ’s stuff back…an’ mine too, come ta think of it. Then we got thrown inta’ detention.”

“Wow, mister sir, you sure do get into a lot of adventures.”

“Whoa whoa, knock it off with the ‘mister sir’ crap, yer makin’ me feel old.”

“I don’t think you’ve told me your name though.”

“Wha-you don’t know my name? After everything I just told you?”

“S-sorry…”

“The name’s Johnny. Johnny Jhonny. Forget it and I whack ya.”

“Ah, okay mister Johnny.”

There was a small back and forth about not using “mister” and the kid’s inability to get it through his head, followed by a weird silence, until a small question piped up from the compatriot:

“So you were always good at fighting the bad guys and…other guys, huh? I hope I can be that fearless someday.”

Johnny paused. The image of an angry Jeff from a few days before surfaced in his head, mocking him for protecting his buddies and promising a permanent scar. He remembered how that ball came sailing towards his pals and how much it’d hurt them if he moved. How people kept taking shots for him that weren’t meant for them: Dimitri, Max…

…and how readily RJ and Ollie were to take them, too.

“…That ain’t it. Listen, it’s not about never bein’ scared. That Hitball game where everythin’ went nuts? I acted all brave to calm down my buds, but…I was shakin’ inside. But I took that fear and threw it right back at that little punk. You just gotta take all that terror that’s buildin’ in your chest and put it in your fists instead. Pick up all that fear those jerks put in ya and make ‘em take it back tenfold.”

“How do you do that, Johnny sir?”

The “sir” wasn’t much better, but Johnny brushed it aside for now. “Well, you know how you keep screamin’ whenever somethin’ spooks ya? Make it louder. Make it a war cry! Bellow and yell in their face and make em’ pay for makin’ that sound come outta’ your mouth! And when you think maybe you should book it, or get worried that you can’t take the fight, you think of how your friends would be in the same spot as you, and how they’d get hurt instead, and then you beat up that foe for daring to put that image in your head!”

There was a pause before he spoke again with as much mentorly conviction as he could muster.

“Ya’ don’t let those punks hurt your friends. Ya gotta stand by your pals, fight by their side, so they don’t take blows that ain’t their due.”

“Because that’s what friends do.”

“Exactly.”

A few seconds passed without any words. Johnny then piped up again.

“Y’know, I don’t think you ever told me your name neither.”

“Oh. Uhm..it’s PJ. I’m PJ.”

Johnny couldn’t really see the kid’s face at all, but he could feel the smile from where he was standing. Or maybe that was just the small smile creeping up on his own face. He wasn’t sure, but the area felt calmer, the silence almost welcoming.

That didn’t last.

Another rumble cut through the air, and the quakes nearly threw the bully to the ground. Then another noise, just loud enough for Johnny to make out, bellowed from below.

“KKKKKKKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“That’s the spirit that got mister Max! It’s close!” shouted PJ before a third rumble sounded. Johnny felt loose soil fall into his hair and vigorously ran his hands through his ‘do. He wasn’t exactly sure what a “spirit” meant, or what could’ve possibly made that noise, but it wasn’t going to stop him from following Guerra. He charged ahead.

Straight into a wall of dirt.

“Ahh! The path is blocked off! It must have touched the soil again!”

“Wha..?” came the muffled reply.

“The spirit can touch things! It moved the soil around earlier when I was making my way in!”

Johnny felt hands on his shoulders for a brief moment before he was catapulted backwards. His hands quickly found soft fabric and the two sped away back up the hallway, swerving and curving to avoid pieces of the ceiling falling down around them. The tremors intensified, and Johnny swung back, bracing himself to punch an enemy he couldn’t see.

KLANG!!

It took a minute for his ears to stop screaming at him, but the vibrations underneath him seemed to halt. His foot slipped for half a second over a pit that he didn’t think was there before. As the ringing subsided, his head pieced together what that noise could have been.

“Hehey, that sounded like a solid hit! Looks like ya got more punch than ya thought, lil slugger!”

“Uh…I didn’t actually swing at it…it came up from underneath me and hit the bat with its face…”

“A solid hold then. You held the bat steady while it came at ya.”

“I was more frozen in fear…”

“Dude, take the compliment before I shove it down your throat hole.”

“OK, Johnny sir.”

“NO, it’s just—you don’t have ta—ah, forget it.”

Johnny turned back and felt around the edges of the hole with his shoe. Whatever came up from the ground was huge, as it took him a while to find a part of the soft earth that wasn’t sloping into the pit. He had half a mind to try throwing something in it to hear how deep it went, but the way the ground was, he wouldn’t be able to hear how far something went anyway.

With no other options, the two started backtracking farther up the cave.

---

“Hey, come ta think of it…PJ, are you in your pajamas?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so.”

“Why’d you come down here in your pajamas when it’s this cold out? You lookin’ to catch a flu or something?”

“I can’t really…touch anything unless it’s possessed. …or a spirit… …or Max…or people with special powers.”

“Whaddya mean you can’t touch things? You’re holding Max’s bat. You just touched me like five minutes ago!”

“This is Max’s special weapon with special powers! I can touch it because it’s full of magic.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t no freaky jumpin’ wizard with wizard tools, and ya touched me, so there. What the heck are you talking about with ‘spirits’ anyway? You saying this cave is full of ghosts or something?”

“I don’t think spirits are the same thing as ghosts… they’re weird. They can be really big, or small, and they all have powers, and they can have legs.”

“Ha! Now I know yer’ bluffin’! Stephen told me that ghosts look like super see-through people with a faint bluish tint on ‘em. Only the ones from other places don’t got feet.”

There was an awkward silence. Johnny couldn’t see the face of his partner beside him, but he could tell that the look on his face was one of confusion.

“…You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

Before Johnny could ask him what the heck that was supposed to mean, the rumbling returned. The large, soft chunks of dirt rained down on Johnny’s shoulders, and the ground beneath him quickly lost stability. Small hills of soil quickly piled up near his feet.

The place was caving in.

Johnny quickly found PJ’s arms (though there was little need, as his hands had already found Johnny’s wrists as soon as the rumbles had begun again) and booked it back up the path. He soon found it hard to block out the burning running up his side, or his lungs crying out for air, or the urge to remove all the dirt from his hair, but the twists and turns the path soon divulged helped distract him ever so slightly.

There was only one brief stop, when two other shadows crossed their path, one yanking the other forward in a similar manner. The long hair fluttering into the other shadow’s face was a dead giveaway for Guerra, but when Johnny tried to follow her, he ran into another wall. The place must be coming down fast if he was blocked off that quickly, he thought, and scrambled back as fast as he could to get the heck out of Chrysler.

After more twists and turns and dodges, a blinding light made its presence known. Johnny raced forward, the screaming in his sides unmatched by the crumbling walls becoming more evident from the light. As the exit loomed nearer and the snowy woods came into focus, he noticed the archway begin to buckle. He forced himself forward as fast as he could muster as the shiny white window to the outside became polluted with fallen sediment. He could feel the cool air on his skin and in his lungs, soothing his aching….well, everything. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the roof give entirely. He threw both of his arms forward in desperation, only dimly realizing that the grip he’d felt on his arm had vanished.

Suddenly he felt a hard shove from behind, and everything went white.

---

Johnny lied on the ground for a few seconds, allowing the small layer of snow to soothe his burning limbs. Each inhale brought both pain and relief. Slowly, he got back up to his feet, rubbing tiny patches of nearby snow underneath his pant legs to numb them ever so slightly and surveying the ground.

For the most part, the woods looked about the same as when he had entered, though he hadn’t been paying much attention to the ground at the time. Every track in the snow looked fresh, so it hadn’t snowed any further after he had entered the cave. A massive gouge in the frozen fluff confirmed that someone had been dragged into the mound, and he could see his shoeprints from his stalking mission, his wavy treads trailing just behind a far smoother and slightly smaller boot print.

He paused, then looked around the marks again. There were only two types of prints in the snow. Unless the kid had trod over the haphazard gouge, that was one type too few.

A small gleam caught his eye, and as he registered what was giving off such a glare, his eyes widened.

Lying three or four steps away from his position was an aluminum bat.

His head quickly snapped up to the cave’s entrance. The once great gaping maw that had lead down to the damp dark underneath had been entirely filled with moist brown soil.

There was no sign of life nearby.

He tried to scream for his cave companion, but his voice flickered in and out like a match refusing to light. Within seconds he was at the cave’s entrance, frantically clawing out bits of earth, searching for an opening, his trembling legs and pinwheeling arms providing the howling his throat could not produce.

As he opened his mouth to attempt crying out a fifth time, another scream filled the area for him.

“KKKKKKKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Johnny stumbled over onto his back, scrambling back into the snow while keeping eye contact with the thing. It was a gigantic mantis, about a few heads taller than a bus, with glowing white eyes the size of the globe Mr. Garcia had in his room. A viscous purple permeated its form and gleamed in the light as if it was made of Jello, and it shimmered like some form of mirage.

It noticed him instantly. Quicker than he’d ever expect a mantis to move, it raised a violet-tinged talon and swung its biological guillotine towards him. The light streaming through the bug caused Johnny’s eyes to water, and he braced himself.

Another familiar sound struck through the air, and his ears cried out in protest.

Johnny blinked away the tears to see another purple shape floating just a few feet in front of him. While the consistency still looked around the same, this one took the form of what looked like a twelve year old kid. A squint revealed what looked to be some form of shirt with a collar and wrist cuffs. There were no sign of legs; instead, the torso tapered off to a wispy serpentine tail. As Johnny stared at the apparition with a quivering mouth and eyes wide as saucers, the purple boy struggled to retain his position. The redhead mentally shook himself and peered beyond the kid; the mantis’s front claws had locked on to the bat the kid was holding and was attempting to push it out from underneath him.

“Aaah! The spirit’s too strong! I can’t keep this up!” the ghost exclaimed as the mantis lowered its head to his eye level, chattering large mandibles that would look less out of place on an ant. Its voice sounded familiar, Johnny thought, and oh sweet merciful Punch why did it sound so familiar, it couldn’t be--

“Please, mister Johnny! Heeelp!”

Johnny glanced from the purple boy to the purple bug and back a few times, his breathing becoming more erratic. It was then that his voice finally burst through in full force.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

For a brief second, the boy turned his head just a bit to look at Johnny. He had the same glowing eyes the bug did, as well as a small curl of hair sticking from his top. A look of panic and confusion soon snapped into realization, and the boy turned back and joined in the din.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

It was barely audible above the combined noise of Johnny’s and the bug’s screams, but it was a valiant war cry nonetheless.

Through the wails, Johnny noticed the ghost slowly pushing back upwards against the mantis. The redheaded rogue shot himself to a sitting position and shoved the ghost forward, and the insidious insect buckled. The cold metal of the bat reunited with the behemoth’s face, and as it reeled backward, PJ raised his volume just a little bit, pitched his arms back, and swung the bat right into the creature’s eye. After another round of shrieking, the mantis waved one arm in front of them, and with a tepid “peh”, it retreated back into the earth.

Johnny stared at the spot the mantis had been a second ago in shock, only turning back to the ghost as it floated back in his direction.

“We did it! We beat the bad guy with …uh…violence! And friendship! And violent friendship!” PJ exclaimed as he neared Johnny, his grin somehow resting on the verge of just off-looking enough to be intimidating.

The bully tried to get up, or scramble away, or anything, but his body betrayed him. A fist slowly and haltingly tried to meet the ghost, but even that only made it halfway to its destination before stopping, the limb quaking uselessly in the air. The seconds passed as the ghost stared at the shaking fist until finally he clasped his hand around it.

Johnny’s voice failed him once again, only letting out a small squeak. He could only stare.

After a few minutes, the pajama-clad lad let out an “Oh!”

“I think that’s Isabel and Max over there!”, he exclaimed. Johnny barely managed to turn his head to see a large smoky red arrow a few yards away. “I have to hurry home too, I sort of didn’t tell Lefty where I was going again and he’s probably going to be real mad if he finds out I left.”

“Bye Johnny! Thanks for everythiiiing!” the ghost cried as he flew away.

Johnny just stared forward for a few minutes, his body completely spent. His head tried to come up with reasons for what just happened, but to no avail.

It took about ten minutes for his legs to finally work again, and as he made his way back home to complete his mission, the thoughts nagged at his mind.

He fought…something. With a ghost. He had Friendship Fused with a ghost.

He had befriended a ghost.

He shook his head back and forth to try to clear his head. He got what he needed out of the…ghost…and now it was time to put his newfound knowledge to good use.

Operation Season’s Beatings was a go.

---

All things considered, the Activity Club had a rather uneventful morning. Early patrol had consisted of dealing with one minor spirit with a compulsion to spread gift wrap everywhere, and Isaac’s small kicks of wind made quick work of the litter.

The lunch bell rang, and Isabel hurried to her locker to put away her books. The four of them had promised to eat lunch together outside and possibly share what they had gotten with the others. She thought about how Isaac would try to play it off as if he hadn’t looked at his gift yet when he had been keeping the plush ninja bunny really badly hidden in his jeans pocket all morning and grinned.

Upon kicking the locker door open, she was greeted with what looked like a shoebox with red Santa wrapping paper awkwardly balancing above her books. The spectral quickly glanced around to see if she was being watched and just barely caught a glimpse of red retreating. Shrugging it off, she grabbed her prize and headed to the schoolyard.

Unsurprisingly, Isaac was gushing about the bunny, his eyes reminding her of those “canine eye inflation disease” posters her grandfather had put up in her room. It was a well-crafted rabbit, from what she could see, and the black ninja garb combined with a small metal headband was a nice touch.

“Oh man Izzy, you’re gonna love what Max got,” Ed chirped as she plopped down beside the three.

“I’m serious, whoever told my Secret Santa about this is dead,” Max groaned as he revealed a model train set from his box. Isabel laughed heartily. “My dad is never going to stop running this thing! It’ll be puffing around upstairs until Halloween!”

“How long did it take Stephen to figure it out, by the way?” she asked Ed, who mirrored her devious grin.

“Two periods and I’m pretty sure Ollie was in on it.”

“Do I even want to know what awful fate you brought upon that fool?”

“Hey, when I told him the alien was right behind him, I wasn’t lying. And the Velcro stuck pretty well, all things considered.”

After hearing Isaac gush about the bunny some more (she recalled a scant few times where his voice reached that high of a pitch) and watching Ed reveal his gift of some art supplies and an Optimus Prime robot, the kids turned their attention to Isabel’s red box.

“The tag just says ‘Guerra!’ on it with no sender, so we’re off to a good start already”, Max said dryly as she carefully tore at the paper.

Isaac complained that he wanted to use that paper for later, so Isabel removed it carefully as to make it as whole as possible. Soon the box was bare, and the kids shot each other gleeful looks. Isabel ripped the box open.

Everyone paused. The boys shot uncertain glances at their friend, who stared at the contents with the blankest look on her face any of them had ever seen.

The box was filled with spiders of various sizes, colors and materials. Felt spiders with pom-pom bodies and googly eyes stared innocently upwards, a drawing of a spider eating a dog was taped to the side of the box, and spiders crafted with pebbles and glue stubbornly stuck to the bottom.

There were three origami spiders scattered throughout the box, each done in a different style. One of them had red eyes, saw-tooth fangs and an oddly misshapen head.

There was a handwritten note taped to the lid.

“Guerra,

I heard you lost your spider pal. Having somebody you love leave you stings something awful. So I made you a bunch of spiders that will never die on you ever. Plus to give you something to remember your friend by.

-

PS. They eat dogs”

“They didn’t even write their name on it?” Isaac murmured as Isabel picked up the red-eyed origami spider, slowly turning it in her palm.

“Izzy?” Ed asked gently as his friend traced an hourglass shape into the spider’s body. She stole a glance behind her of the red-haired idiot she’d seen earlier, propped up against a tree just within her line of sight, doing what looked like his best not to fall asleep. “You OK?”

She turned to her friends with a small smile, tucking the odd spider into the deep pocket of her jacket.

“Yeah. I’m just fine.”

[istanlena]

The next morning came, and Lena felt all the misery from the night before hit her as she felt the dry tears on her face from crying herself to sleep. Damn you Kryptonian. She cursed the Kryptonian for putting her in such a situation.

  She got up out of bed to get ready for work. After a couple of hours sitting at her desk and not being able to focus due to the letter she read the night before she decided to call it quits for the day and go home to relax. If that was even possible since the Superhero was occupying, always occupying her mind.

  After wasting as much time as possible in the bathtub, she decided to get out of due to the water becoming cold, and she needed to start researching more about Kara's whereabouts. All she knew was that the Kara disappeared about two months after Lena left National City. She had refused to watch the news or read anything remotely related to Supergirl. So naturally, the first thing she did was search up the hero's name, and she truly wished she hadn't. She filters the videos by the past two months, and what she was witnessing was terrifying her. Kara, a Kryptonian, Supergirl, the strongest woman alive was getting beaten as it appears in every video. She went back to a video that got uploaded around a week after their fallout.

  Supergirl was letting the Alien punch her over and over again while she pretended to struggle against him. Finally, after many painful punches and kicks that he landed on her, she hit him flying back into a building as she fell to the ground. Lena closed her eyes wincing at what she was watching. The hero looked paler and smaller than she used to be. She struggled to get back up, so Alex ran to her, helping her into a disguised DEO van where she could rest. Lena was confused. Kara was supposed to be invincible; she wasn't supposed to get tired after a fight that should have taken a couple of minutes for her to take him down. Events like this usually never happened unless Kryptonite was involved in the battle.

Lena spent hours watching videos and reading Articles about Supergirl. Some fights were brutal; she was about to be killed in some of them. A lot of these people had ended up with Kryptonite somehow, and they were using it against her. She started crying as she watched the Super fall onto the ground but struggled to get back up, she also saw her using all of her energy punchings or kicking one last time before falling to the ground and not getting back up. At first, it seemed like she was letting them hit her on purpose, but as she went through pictures, she saw how the Kryptonian look paler in as time went on. There was a short clip showing her stopping a truck from crashing into a car, but as the kid went out to thank her she didn't stop for an autograph like she usually did or take a picture with him, instead, she flew away into the night sky not bothering to look back.

It pained Lena to see the change in Kara's eyes, the ones that were filled with so much warmth and happiness now had a winter storm forming inside of them. She was cold during the fights, and Lena wished she knew what Kara was thinking during those moments. Suddenly she remembered the letters that she found in Kara's diaries. She went over to her bedroom and opened up the drawer where she kept those letters. She pulled the letter that had been written after the first one and started reading.

______________________________

Dear Lena,

I find myself sitting at my desk at CatCo again even though everyone has already left to go home. I have an article to finish writing; I have all everything I need to write it, but yet I haven't written a word. I've been staring at an empty document for the past two hours. It's ridiculous. The fact that I'm writing a letter to you that you will never receive yet I cannot bring myself to write an article that people all over the world are going to read and care about, except you. I hope you're doing fine.

I heard that you are starting a new company called 'Lightan' back in Metropolis. You'll probably be spending a lot of time there since I listen to it's pretty crucial for the CEO to be there when their company is opening a new firm. Especially across the country, It upsets me that you'll be leaving for weeks at a time maybe even months, but I know what I think doesn't matter.

Today Snapper told me to interview you for an exclusive, but I tried telling him I wouldn't be able to interview you from now on. He didn't want to hear it, so I continued with a project that I have been working on for the past few weeks. Later he asked me for the exclusive article I had written about your new company; I told him I didn't have it. He was about to fire me, but James stepped in and told him off, he also said to him that no one would be able to get any more exclusives because you are too busy right now. I thanked him although there was no need for that. I wouldn't have cared if I got fired.

It's quite dull now, and I'm too stressed to write anything. Not to mention by ribs hurt like hell because of some stupid anti-alien woman who had stopped me for an autograph pretending to be a fan, so I went over to her, and as I was posing for a picture she stabbed me with a Kryptonite pen in my right rib. I don't understand how I didn't see that coming. It still hurts, but luckily it wasn't enough to make me powerless or beat me to the point where I would have to take the rest of the day off.

Not that would have made any difference. Anyways, I should go home now. The guards are starting to lock up, and they've asked me to leave multiple times, not that I care, but I think I'm going to revisit the hills, no one is there to bother me, its peaceful and the feel of fresh air is exactly what I need right now.

Yours truly,

Kara.

______________________________

Lena swallowed, feeling the bile rise in her throat at the thought of someone stabbing Kara after she was kind to them.

'Cowards. That's all these people are, cowards. They're too scared of people who have more power than them that's why they play so dirty.' She thought as her face wrenched up in an expression of disgust. She pulled out another letter; this one seemed shorter. It intrigued her, considering that Kara usually wrote a lot in her letters.

______________________________

Dear Lena,

I'm sorry.

For the times I hurt you, for the times I lied to you, and for every other reason, you're mad at me. I know my apologies don't mean anything to you, but aside from that all I can do is make sure your safe.

You might not know this, but I purposely take the longer route when I'm patrolling the city just so I can fly by your window multiple times quickly, so you won't even notice. I go out of my way to make sure you're okay, and I will keep doing that as long as your here and your alive.

Just because we don't talk doesn't mean I've forgotten about you, it doesn't mean that I no longer care. Truth is I still do. Even after swearing that I would stop, I still can't. I do my best to check up on you and see how you're doing.

To see if you're okay, but every time I get the urge to talk to you I remember that were just some strangers with some memories, you don't want me in your life, and I understand If I were you, I would not want anything to do with me either.

But even though everything has changed; I want you to know that I'm always looking out for you, I  always remind Sam to check up on you and lend you an ear even though she doesn't need me to tell her that. She's a much better friend than I was or will ever be.

I don't ask for anything in return; I don't wish to know what you were talking about and what you're struggling with because that is none of my business.

I miss you I miss your presence, although missing you does hurt, its nothing compared to knowing that I had you and lost you because I'm too much of a selfish coward.

Best regards

Kara.

P.S:

The hills look beautiful now with the snow covering them... I wish you could see them.

______________________________

Lena has started sobbing halfway through the letter since her eyes were already teary from the previous one, but this one destroyed her. The fact that Kara thought about her that much and made sure she was always okay from a distance made Lena hate herself. It made her want to take a bottle of alcohol and smash it against the walls. She wished she had scotch anymore so she could get drunk and crawl into a hole.

Her guilt was eating was consuming her; she had never felt any other emotion so strongly before. Never had she felt so much shame before for something she had caused unintentionally. She'd never felt so much shame in her life for allowing her best friend to fall into a state where nothing mattered to her anymore. Reading those letters were like the fact that she was alongside Kara this whole time, watching her change between cold and hot until she ultimately, she chooses cold and disappears.

And then it hit her. She mentioned the hills a lot. 'Could that be where she's hiding?'  She thought to herself. I mean she always expressed her fondness of nature and how much she loved the suburbs and the peace with it. Lena was thinking at an incredible speed, asking herself all types of questions.

But in Germany? Although she does know how to speak German fluently, that would make sense except for the fact that she said it was just hills, there would be no place unless she built her own house.

No that's just ridiculous Lena.

But she is Supergirl ... she could quickly build a cottage within a couple of days, or even a treehouse!

  Lena found herself giggling at the thought of Kara living in a treehouse-like Tarzan. It was a bizarre thought, and she couldn't imagine it. She was pretty sure Kara would have died the first day there, how on earth would she find food, she barely knew how to make pancakes let along hunt for her food.

                                  Lena quickly dialed Alex's number.

  "Hey, what is it? Did you find any leads? Do you know where she is? Is she okay?" Alex, through a bunch of questions at Lena and Lena, could barely understand a word that Alex had said since she was speaking so fast.

                                     "Alex, Alex, Alex! Relax please!

                                      "Uh yeah sorry, what is it?"     "I think I might know where she is, well I think I have a lead. Come over and bring some Scotch with you, I need a drink, and I know  you have some so don't even try to lie to me." "I'll be there in fifteen, Winn is dead passed out anyways. See you." Alex ended the call, and she couldn't help but feel the hope ignite in her as she made her way to Lena's. Just thinking that she might see her sister soon made her excited, although she knew that she shouldn't let her hope get the best of her. Still, it was the first time someone thought they knew where Kara was, and this was Lena if she felt she had a clue she had to be right, even though Alex spent a year searching Lena managed to find something in less than four days.

   Lena pulled out another letter to read while she was waiting for Alex to come over and she knew this wasn't the smartest idea she couldn't help herself even though she knew she was going to be a sobbing mess by the time the Agent arrived.

READ ALL OF IT HERE -

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20160715/chapters/47764279

[pnatsecretsanta]

Johnny Jhonny in: A Christmas Calamity

A STORY!/ IT’S DONE!/ FOR @pjmaxsson! Apologies for getting this out so late, I hope that this little tale brings you a bit of belated Christmas cheer, and more! Without further ado, here is:

Johnny Jhonny in: A Christmas Calamity

“ARGH!”

Johnny Jhonny kicked one of the small snow piles haphazardly placed along the sidewalk. The holiday season, as with most things in Mayview, had been bizarre so far, with a mild snowstorm being followed by a mild warm front. Only a thin layer of snow remained, save for the large dirty piles left by the snowplows.

“Out of anyone I coulda gotten, I had ta’ get Isabel Guerra? That chick’s impossible to get information on!”

“Well if it’s any consolation, she probably won’t murder you if you get it messed up. Pretty sure Lisa knows I got Violet ‘cause she’s been giving me that creepy smile for the past three days. Plus, I don’t think RJ even got someone from our grade,” Ollie chimed in.

RJ nodded in agreement, their furrowed brow hidden by their hood.

“None of this would even be a PROBLEM if Mr. Garcia had handed out these assignments earlier!” Stephen cried out, waving his hands in an exaggerated motion. “THREE DAYS to deliver a Secret Santa present?! We’re gonna have to do our investigations separately!”

               The group, sans RJ, groaned at that. Gift giving for them was nothing to be taken lightly; each member of Johnny’s Gang would meticulously search for, or more often create, something for their target that would have some kind of personal connection for them, a tactic that extended to any poor fool that they got saddled with for a Secret Santa. This, of course, could take a bit of time to gather enough information to make such a gift, which the boys (and RJ) preferred doing together. That plan was now ruined thanks to Mr. Garcia sleeping through the day he was supposed to hand the slips out, on top of his continued forgetting.

               There was a nudge on Johnny’s arm, and he swerved to see where RJ was pointing. At the base of the hill they were slowly traversing down was his target, a maroon sweater barely peeking out under a stone grey jacket, mahogany hair lightly nestled at the shoulders. There’s no way Guerra wouldn’t suspect an ambush if the four of them went down, a thought Johnny saw reflected in his compadres’ eyes.

               “Go get ‘em, slugger!” whispered Stephen with a shove that was anything but soft, sending Johnny stumbling nearly a quarter of the way down the slope before he caught his footing. Halfway down the hill, Johnny stopped and gave a quick glance at his pals, who gave waves of encouragement and thumbs up as a response.

—

About three feet in, Johnny was able to gather one bit of information on Isabel Guerra:

She had really weird ideas for recreational activities.

After a few close calls, he had managed to tail her into a weird-looking cave mound. The damp walls seemed to eat up any light, as Johnny had soon found it hard to see even a foot in front of him, and the soft ground obscured any sounds he could have used to follow her. The paths were wide (he surmised that Ollie could easily walk beside him) and winding ever downward, and the bully soon realized that there were multiple sprawling paths. Johnny silently cursed himself for not charging his phone the day before. At least there would have been a small light source if he had.

The small, uneven muttering up ahead caught his attention.

“Oh geez. Oh man. D-did I go the right way? How are there so many paths? What if Mr. Max is hurt? What if that thing comes back? Ohhh…”

Slowly, Johnny crept up to the voice, hearing it fret over many things. He squinched up his eyes, trying to think. This definitely wasn’t Isabel-her voice could command the room, confidence would ooze from every sound she made.

“I can’t stay here worrying about this! Mr. Max needs me! But…”

“Who the heck’re you?”

               “WAAAUGH!”

Johnny could just barely make out the hazy shape of a boy about his age in front of him, quaking intensely. He wouldn’t have enough time to ruffle this one up, he figured. Got too far away from Guerra already. He’d have to make this quick in order to catch up to her and hopefully hear her let something slip.

“A’ight fella, this is the way it’s gonna work here. I’m feeling pretty generous t’day. Gotta make sure I get the deets on somebody real fast n’ stuff. I’m not even gonna stop ta’ beat ya’ up right now, my mood’s that good. Just tell me where the Guerra chick went.”

“Uhhh…I…don’t know who…that is..?” came the hasty reply.

“Er.. Isabel Guerra? Brown eyes, long brown hair, gray jacket? ”

“…Oh. OH!” The boy seemed to perk up a little upon hearing that. “That’s the scary girl’s name? The one from that weird dodgeball game, right?”

“Hitball, yeah, she was t’ other captain. Besides me.”

“O-oh, okay. I, uh, wasn’t paying too much attention to the game…mostly just watching Max. Ah! Are you the guy Max blocked that ball for?”

That one stung a little. If there was anything that made Johnny Jhonny uncomfortable, it’s someone taking a punishment that should’ve rightfully been his.

“Yeah…that’s me,” he said, the agitation creeping into his voice. “You gonna tell me where the girl went now, or are ya gonna stand here and waste my freakin’ time?”

“Well…I dunno where…Isabel, right? Went exactly…but if she’s in here, that means she’s going to help Max too! Which is good, because this place kinda scares me..”

Great. This kid wasn’t any help at all, Johnny thought to himself as he began to storm off. Well, as best as he could storm in this place, anyway, as the ground muffled all his footsteps.

“Uh, mister sir, you’re heading into a wall,” the boy provided helpfully right as Johnny smashed his face into a bed of dirt. “Are you able to see in here? Because it looks like you’re squinting pretty hard…”

“Oh, so you can see where yer’ goin’ in this pitch black mess?”

“A-a little, mister sir. This place has a lot of weird turns and forks and dead ends. If you can’t tell where you’re going, you could get pretty lost.”

Johnny suddenly had an idea.

“Right then, it’s settled! I can’t see a foot in fronta’ me, and yer’ too scared to fight…whatever it is you came in here fer’, so you get ta’ do the lookin’ and I’ll do the fightin’! I’ll let ya’ pay me back for it later.”

“Uh…ah…oh…kay”, came the uneasy reply. “There’s a path to your left. It’s straight for a while after that, from what I can see.”

And with that, the two set off.

—

Johnny couldn’t tell how long he’d been walking in silence for. At least with the Ed ambush a few days prior, he’d been able to gauge some method of progress by seeing just where Ed was and what he was up to. But here there wasn’t anything to see ahead of him. He could barely hear his own footsteps on the ground if he paid enough attention, but he couldn’t hear the other kid’s at all, even though with a glance he could see the kid steadily at his side.

He wasn’t scared, of course. It was just a dark silent cave, that’s all. Nothing that pathetic could scare Johnny Jhonny.

He was, admittedly, just a little creeped out. He needed something to keep his mind off of this. Besides Guerra, of course. No sense chasing Guerra with some hyped up senses that’d give him away.

“So what’s your deal, anyway? If yer’ so scared of everything, whatcha even come to a spooky cave for?” he asked.

The sad little laugh’s proximity made him jump.

“I was trying to go around with Max a little bit, to see the town again. I thought maybe I could become a little braver, maybe even help in a fight…but then a big spirit came up and grabbed him! I followed it here, but then Max dropped his bat trying to get out of its arms, and I rushed in to help and give it back to him. He can’t fight real good without it… but this is a big cave, and I can’t get the bat to him without going through it, and it’s dark and I got scared…”

Johnny stared at the kid with only the slightest expression of disbelief. “You wanna learn how to fight?”

               “I have to be able to help out when he gets attacked! So I can have his back! Because that’s what friends do!”

There was a sense of conviction in the kid’s voice that wasn’t there before. A conviction immediately lost when the floor shook and a deep rumble emanated from below, if the higher pitched wailing that came from his position was anything to go by.

Once the rumbling stopped and Johnny confirmed that he could not beat the earthquake into submission, he turned and gently slapped his hand over the general area of his partner’s head. Although he missed his mouth entirely, it still worked wonders in stopping the kid’s terrified babbling.

“Tell ya what, ya picked a good day ta run into me. I’ll whip ya up into ship-shop shape so you can wallop all yer problems while I’m out nerd hunting. A’course, you’ll have to pay me back with interest…”, he said, cracking his knuckles for effect, but secretly impressed that the kid was trying to take initiative.

He was not expecting a shaky, uncertain “thank you” as a response, but it filled him with a weird sense of pride, and soon an exchange of stories began.

—-

To the timid kid’s credit, he had kept his end of the bargain.

Johnny soon realized the kid was a good eavesdropper, since he mentioned that he only knew the girl for a few days. He would’ve quicker taken Isabel to be a dog person afraid of spiders than the other way around. Apparently she was close to her spider too, the one that she’d lost recently. Called it a friend. Johnny could relate; the loss of his boxer four years ago still hurt to think about somewhat. She was also Max’s friend, so of course she’d be into the freaky flipping and jumping around he did constantly. Between her and that spiky nerd dude, freaky movements seemed to be something of a requirement for being that kid’s buddy. He made a mental note to himself to practice some moves with his pals later to show him up.

Some of the facts were a bit harder to make sense of. According to him, she had come with some “scary guy with glasses” to help sort out a…evil whale frog the other day? Riding a paper horse? With the kid’s luck he probably found that weirdo history teacher that’s always wearing shades, but with the kid’s track record of jumping at the smacking sounds of Johnny’s hands, he could’ve been scared of pretty much anyone.

And if what the kid was saying was true, he had somehow managed to punch a teacher in the face for “being evil”. Not a bad start to a fighting career, even if he said that he ran and hid behind Max immediately after.

On his own side, Johnny had launched into relaying many of his and his gang’s bouts over the years, placing emphasis on each blow, duck and dodge. What started out as giving advice on which attacks are what, when people are giving them and how to take/sidestep them quickly derailed into making as great a story as possible. Johnny was just too used to framing these stories for his pals. His partner didn’t seem to mind it too much, though, and every hushed “wow” and question of what happened next only served to hype him up further. He told of turf wars and stakeouts, of the gang catching up to a group of cyclists that had bought the last of the candy that RJ had been looking forward to all week, even his battle with Ed and the Great Starch Hunt.

“’An then he gave us stars from his own pocket for beatin’ him, and Ed took off for greater quarry. Gotta meet up with him later to get RJ’s stuff back…an’ mine too, come ta think of it. Then we got thrown inta’ detention.”

“Wow, mister sir, you sure do get into a lot of adventures.”

“Whoa whoa, knock it off with the ‘mister sir’ crap, yer makin’ me feel old.”

“I don’t think you’ve told me your name though.”

“Wha-you don’t know my name? After everything I just told you?”

“S-sorry…”

“The name’s Johnny. Johnny Jhonny. Forget it and I whack ya.”

“Ah, okay mister Johnny.”

There was a small back and forth about not using “mister” and the kid’s inability to get it through his head, followed by a weird silence, until a small question piped up from the compatriot:

“So you were always good at fighting the bad guys and…other guys, huh? I hope I can be that fearless someday.”

Johnny paused. The image of an angry Jeff from a few days before surfaced in his head, mocking him for protecting his buddies and promising a permanent scar. He remembered how that ball came sailing towards his pals and how much it’d hurt them if he moved. How people kept taking shots for him that weren’t meant for them: Dimitri, Max…

…and how readily RJ and Ollie were to take them, too.

“…That ain’t it. Listen, it’s not about never bein’ scared. That Hitball game where everythin’ went nuts? I acted all brave to calm down my buds, but…I was shakin’ inside. But I took that fear and threw it right back at that little punk. You just gotta take all that terror that’s buildin’ in your chest and put it in your fists instead. Pick up all that fear those jerks put in ya and make ‘em take it back tenfold.”

“How do you do that, Johnny sir?”

The “sir” wasn’t much better, but Johnny brushed it aside for now. “Well, you know how you keep screamin’ whenever somethin’ spooks ya? Make it louder. Make it a war cry! Bellow and yell in their face and make em’ pay for makin’ that sound come outta’ your mouth! And when you think maybe you should book it, or get worried that you can’t take the fight, you think of how your friends would be in the same spot as you, and how they’d get hurt instead, and then you beat up that foe for daring to put that image in your head!”

There was a pause before he spoke again with as much mentorly conviction as he could muster.

“Ya’ don’t let those punks hurt your friends. Ya gotta stand by your pals, fight by their side, so they don’t take blows that ain’t their due.”

“Because that’s what friends do.”

“Exactly.”

A few seconds passed without any words. Johnny then piped up again.

“Y’know, I don’t think you ever told me your name neither.”

“Oh. Uhm..it’s PJ. I’m PJ.”

Johnny couldn’t really see the kid’s face at all, but he could feel the smile from where he was standing. Or maybe that was just the small smile creeping up on his own face. He wasn’t sure, but the area felt calmer, the silence almost welcoming.

That didn’t last.

Another rumble cut through the air, and the quakes nearly threw the bully to the ground. Then another noise, just loud enough for Johnny to make out, bellowed from below.

“KKKKKKKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“That’s the spirit that got mister Max! It’s close!” shouted PJ before a third rumble sounded. Johnny felt loose soil fall into his hair and vigorously ran his hands through his ‘do. He wasn’t exactly sure what a “spirit” meant, or what could’ve possibly made that noise, but it wasn’t going to stop him from following Guerra. He charged ahead.

Straight into a wall of dirt.

“Ahh! The path is blocked off! It must have touched the soil again!”

“Wha..?” came the muffled reply.

“The spirit can touch things! It moved the soil around earlier when I was making my way in!”

Johnny felt hands on his shoulders for a brief moment before he was catapulted backwards. His hands quickly found soft fabric and the two sped away back up the hallway, swerving and curving to avoid pieces of the ceiling falling down around them. The tremors intensified, and Johnny swung back, bracing himself to punch an enemy he couldn’t see.

KLANG!!

It took a minute for his ears to stop screaming at him, but the vibrations underneath him seemed to halt. His foot slipped for half a second over a pit that he didn’t think was there before. As the ringing subsided, his head pieced together what that noise could have been.

“Hehey, that sounded like a solid hit! Looks like ya got more punch than ya thought, lil slugger!”

“Uh…I didn’t actually swing at it…it came up from underneath me and hit the bat with its face…”

“A solid hold then. You held the bat steady while it came at ya.”

“I was more frozen in fear…”

“Dude, take the compliment before I shove it down your throat hole.”

“OK, Johnny sir.”

“NO, it’s just—you don’t have ta—ah, forget it.”

Johnny turned back and felt around the edges of the hole with his shoe. Whatever came up from the ground was huge, as it took him a while to find a part of the soft earth that wasn’t sloping into the pit. He had half a mind to try throwing something in it to hear how deep it went, but the way the ground was, he wouldn’t be able to hear how far something went anyway.

With no other options, the two started backtracking farther up the cave.

—

“Hey, come ta think of it…PJ, are you in your pajamas?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so.”

“Why’d you come down here in your pajamas when it’s this cold out? You lookin’ to catch a flu or something?”

“I can’t really…touch anything unless it’s possessed. …or a spirit… …or Max…or people with special powers.”

“Whaddya mean you can’t touch things? You’re holding Max’s bat. You just touched me like five minutes ago!”

“This is Max’s special weapon with special powers! I can touch it because it’s full of magic.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t no freaky jumpin’ wizard with wizard tools, and ya touched me, so there. What the heck are you talking about with ‘spirits’ anyway? You saying this cave is full of ghosts or something?”

“I don’t think spirits are the same thing as ghosts… they’re weird. They can be really big, or small, and they all have powers, and they can have legs.”

“Ha! Now I know yer’ bluffin’! Stephen told me that ghosts look like super see-through people with a faint bluish tint on ‘em. Only the ones from other places don’t got feet.”

There was an awkward silence. Johnny couldn’t see the face of his partner beside him, but he could tell that the look on his face was one of confusion.

“…You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

Before Johnny could ask him what the heck that was supposed to mean, the rumbling returned. The large, soft chunks of dirt rained down on Johnny’s shoulders, and the ground beneath him quickly lost stability. Small hills of soil quickly piled up near his feet.

The place was caving in.

Johnny quickly found PJ’s arms (though there was little need, as his hands had already found Johnny’s wrists as soon as the rumbles had begun again) and booked it back up the path. He soon found it hard to block out the burning running up his side, or his lungs crying out for air, or the urge to remove all the dirt from his hair, but the twists and turns the path soon divulged helped distract him ever so slightly.

There was only one brief stop, when two other shadows crossed their path, one yanking the other forward in a similar manner. The long hair fluttering into the other shadow’s face was a dead giveaway for Guerra, but when Johnny tried to follow her, he ran into another wall. The place must be coming down fast if he was blocked off that quickly, he thought, and scrambled back as fast as he could to get the heck out of Chrysler.

After more twists and turns and dodges, a blinding light made its presence known. Johnny raced forward, the screaming in his sides unmatched by the crumbling walls becoming more evident from the light. As the exit loomed nearer and the snowy woods came into focus, he noticed the archway begin to buckle. He forced himself forward as fast as he could muster as the shiny white window to the outside became polluted with fallen sediment. He could feel the cool air on his skin and in his lungs, soothing his aching….well, everything. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the roof give entirely. He threw both of his arms forward in desperation, only dimly realizing that the grip he’d felt on his arm had vanished.

Suddenly he felt a hard shove from behind, and everything went white.

—

Johnny lied on the ground for a few seconds, allowing the small layer of snow to soothe his burning limbs. Each inhale brought both pain and relief. Slowly, he got back up to his feet, rubbing tiny patches of nearby snow underneath his pant legs to numb them ever so slightly and surveying the ground.

For the most part, the woods looked about the same as when he had entered, though he hadn’t been paying much attention to the ground at the time. Every track in the snow looked fresh, so it hadn’t snowed any further after he had entered the cave. A massive gouge in the frozen fluff confirmed that someone had been dragged into the mound, and he could see his shoeprints from his stalking mission, his wavy treads trailing just behind a far smoother and slightly smaller boot print.

He paused, then looked around the marks again. There were only two types of prints in the snow. Unless the kid had trod over the haphazard gouge, that was one type too few.

A small gleam caught his eye, and as he registered what was giving off such a glare, his eyes widened.

Lying three or four steps away from his position was an aluminum bat.

His head quickly snapped up to the cave’s entrance. The once great gaping maw that had lead down to the damp dark underneath had been entirely filled with moist brown soil.

There was no sign of life nearby.

He tried to scream for his cave companion, but his voice flickered in and out like a match refusing to light. Within seconds he was at the cave’s entrance, frantically clawing out bits of earth, searching for an opening, his trembling legs and pinwheeling arms providing the howling his throat could not produce.

As he opened his mouth to attempt crying out a fifth time, another scream filled the area for him.

“KKKKKKKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Johnny stumbled over onto his back, scrambling back into the snow while keeping eye contact with the thing. It was a gigantic mantis, about a few heads taller than a bus, with glowing white eyes the size of the globe Mr. Garcia had in his room. A viscous purple permeated its form and gleamed in the light as if it was made of Jello, and it shimmered like some form of mirage.

It noticed him instantly. Quicker than he’d ever expect a mantis to move, it raised a violet-tinged talon and swung its biological guillotine towards him. The light streaming through the bug caused Johnny’s eyes to water, and he braced himself.

Another familiar sound struck through the air, and his ears cried out in protest.

Johnny blinked away the tears to see another purple shape floating just a few feet in front of him. While the consistency still looked around the same, this one took the form of what looked like a twelve year old kid. A squint revealed what looked to be some form of shirt with a collar and wrist cuffs. There were no sign of legs; instead, the torso tapered off to a wispy serpentine tail. As Johnny stared at the apparition with a quivering mouth and eyes wide as saucers, the purple boy struggled to retain his position. The redhead mentally shook himself and peered beyond the kid; the mantis’s front claws had locked on to the bat the kid was holding and was attempting to push it out from underneath him.

“Aaah! The spirit’s too strong! I can’t keep this up!” the ghost exclaimed as the mantis lowered its head to his eye level, chattering large mandibles that would look less out of place on an ant. Its voice sounded familiar, Johnny thought, and oh sweet merciful Punch why did it sound so familiar, it couldn’t be–

“Please, mister Johnny! Heeelp!”

Johnny glanced from the purple boy to the purple bug and back a few times, his breathing becoming more erratic. It was then that his voice finally burst through in full force.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

For a brief second, the boy turned his head just a bit to look at Johnny. He had the same glowing eyes the bug did, as well as a small curl of hair sticking from his top. A look of panic and confusion soon snapped into realization, and the boy turned back and joined in the din.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

It was barely audible above the combined noise of Johnny’s and the bug’s screams, but it was a valiant war cry nonetheless.

Through the wails, Johnny noticed the ghost slowly pushing back upwards against the mantis. The redheaded rogue shot himself to a sitting position and shoved the ghost forward, and the insidious insect buckled. The cold metal of the bat reunited with the behemoth’s face, and as it reeled backward, PJ raised his volume just a little bit, pitched his arms back, and swung the bat right into the creature’s eye. After another round of shrieking, the mantis waved one arm in front of them, and with a tepid “peh”, it retreated back into the earth.

Johnny stared at the spot the mantis had been a second ago in shock, only turning back to the ghost as it floated back in his direction.

“We did it! We beat the bad guy with …uh…violence! And friendship! And violent friendship!” PJ exclaimed as he neared Johnny, his grin somehow resting on the verge of just off-looking enough to be intimidating.

The bully tried to get up, or scramble away, or anything, but his body betrayed him. A fist slowly and haltingly tried to meet the ghost, but even that only made it halfway to its destination before stopping, the limb quaking uselessly in the air. The seconds passed as the ghost stared at the shaking fist until finally he clasped his hand around it.

Johnny’s voice failed him once again, only letting out a small squeak. He could only stare.

After a few minutes, the pajama-clad lad let out an “Oh!”

 “I think that’s Isabel and Max over there!”, he exclaimed. Johnny barely managed to turn his head to see a large smoky red arrow a few yards away. “I have to hurry home too, I sort of didn’t tell Lefty where I was going again and he’s probably going to be real mad if he finds out I left.”

“Bye Johnny! Thanks for everythiiiing!” the ghost cried as he flew away.

 Johnny just stared forward for a few minutes, his body completely spent. His head tried to come up with reasons for what just happened, but to no avail.

It took about ten minutes for his legs to finally work again, and as he made his way back home to complete his mission, the thoughts nagged at his mind.

He fought…something. With a ghost. He had Friendship Fused with a ghost.

He had befriended a ghost.

He shook his head back and forth to try to clear his head. He got what he needed out of the…ghost…and now it was time to put his newfound knowledge to good use.

Operation Season’s Beatings was a go.

—

All things considered, the Activity Club had a rather uneventful morning. Early patrol had consisted of dealing with one minor spirit with a compulsion to spread gift wrap everywhere, and Isaac’s small kicks of wind made quick work of the litter.

The lunch bell rang, and Isabel hurried to her locker to put away her books. The four of them had promised to eat lunch together outside and possibly share what they had gotten with the others. She thought about how Isaac would try to play it off as if he hadn’t looked at his gift yet when he had been keeping the plush ninja bunny really badly hidden in his jeans pocket all morning and grinned.

Upon kicking the locker door open, she was greeted with what looked like a shoebox with red Santa wrapping paper awkwardly balancing above her books. The spectral quickly glanced around to see if she was being watched and just barely caught a glimpse of red retreating. Shrugging it off, she grabbed her prize and headed to the schoolyard.

Unsurprisingly, Isaac was gushing about the bunny, his eyes reminding her of those “canine eye inflation disease” posters her grandfather had put up in her room. It was a well-crafted rabbit, from what she could see, and the black ninja garb combined with a small metal headband was a nice touch.

“Oh man Izzy, you’re gonna love what Max got,” Ed chirped as she plopped down beside the three.

“I’m serious, whoever told my Secret Santa about this is dead,” Max groaned as he revealed a model train set from his box. Isabel laughed heartily. “My dad is never going to stop running this thing! It’ll be puffing around upstairs until Halloween!”

“How long did it take Stephen to figure it out, by the way?” she asked Ed, who mirrored her devious grin.

“Two periods and I’m pretty sure Ollie was in on it.”

“Do I even want to know what awful fate you brought upon that fool?”

“Hey, when I told him the alien was right behind him, I wasn’t lying. And the Velcro stuck pretty well, all things considered.”

After hearing Isaac gush about the bunny some more (she recalled a scant few times where his voice reached that high of a pitch) and watching Ed reveal his gift of some art supplies and an Optimus Prime robot, the kids turned their attention to Isabel’s red box.

“The tag just says ‘Guerra!’ on it with no sender, so we’re off to a good start already”, Max said dryly as she carefully tore at the paper.

Isaac complained that he wanted to use that paper for later, so Isabel removed it carefully as to make it as whole as possible. Soon the box was bare, and the kids shot each other gleeful looks. Isabel ripped the box open.

Everyone paused. The boys shot uncertain glances at their friend, who stared at the contents with the blankest look on her face any of them had ever seen.

The box was filled with spiders of various sizes, colors and materials. Felt spiders with pom-pom bodies and googly eyes stared innocently upwards, a drawing of a spider eating a dog was taped to the side of the box, and spiders crafted with pebbles and glue stubbornly stuck to the bottom.

There were three origami spiders scattered throughout the box, each done in a different style. One of them had red eyes, saw-tooth fangs and an oddly misshapen head.

There was a handwritten note taped to the lid.

“Guerra,

I heard you lost your spider pal. Having somebody you love leave you stings something awful. So I made you a bunch of spiders that will never die on you ever. Plus to give you something to remember your friend by.

-

PS. They eat dogs”

“They didn’t even write their name on it?” Isaac murmured as Isabel picked up the red-eyed origami spider, slowly turning it in her palm.

“Izzy?” Ed asked gently as his friend traced an hourglass shape into the spider’s body. She stole a glance behind her of the red-haired idiot she’d seen earlier, propped up against a tree just within her line of sight, doing what looked like his best not to fall asleep. “You OK?”

She turned to her friends with a small smile, tucking the odd spider into the deep pocket of her jacket.

“Yeah, I’m just fine.”

[nom-the-skel]

[vore] Stray Bunny

Stretch is a sad bunny. Wolf Red takes him in.

Soft safe vore, willing prey, suicidal thoughts/actions; ostensibly fatal vore in the backstory but if there’s a continuation that could be retconned.

[read on AO3]

“You sure, bunny?” The wolf touched his back gently. Stretch looked up at him grimly and nodded. He couldn’t allow himself to look scared, or Red wouldn’t go through with it. “Okay then.” Red scooped him up from the couch and licked him, running his tongue up the bunny’s bare ribs, across his skull, to the tips of his ears. Stretch shuddered at the proximity of the wolf’s sharp teeth. “You don’t have to be so gentle.” “You wan’ it rough?” Stretch nodded, but failed to convince him. “Maybe later, bunny.” Red went back to licking him until he forgot about the teeth. The soft pressure of his tongue was warm and relaxing, and Stretch couldn’t let himself enjoy this too much. He wished Red would hurry up and get on with it, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. So he had no choice but to let Red lick him for as long as he wanted. When he at last found himself sliding in between the wolf’s jaws, he snapped out of the drowsiness that had been overtaking him. He braced himself, but in a moment found himself sliding out again, back into Red’s hands. “You’re scared,” the wolf said neutrally. “Yeah,” Stretch admitted. Red could tell. There was no hiding it. “You wanna stop?” Stretch flinched at the concern in the wolf’s voice. “No, please. Just do it.” Red hesitated. “Please,” Stretch repeated. “Okay, but don’t get mad at me later. You asked for it.” Red waited until the bunny had nodded agreement to his conditions, then tipped him back into his mouth. Stretch squeezed his sockets shut. The soft wet magic pressed around his skull, convulsed to pull him in deeper. It was awful, though not as bad as what Blue must have gone through, and even after the magic closed over his feet, it lasted an interminably long time. He wasn’t sure what would happen next. Eventually he found himself squeezed out into a looser space and dared open his eyes. There was still nothing but red magic all around, glowing dim and wet. In places he could see the shadows of bones beyond or perhaps within the magic. It didn’t matter. It was far too late to go back now. He’d tried not to let Blue’s efforts go to waste, but it had really been too late the moment it happened. Nothing mattered now, at least not for him, except that he might finally stop hearing Blue’s terrified shriek in the silence, seeing his brother desperately reaching for him in that moment when he was snatched away, every time he closed his eyes. He shook his skull but couldn’t dispel the image. He deserved it, though. If he’d been a little faster, not cut it so close, Blue wouldn’t have tried to protect him. He should have known Blue would try to protect him. He closed his eyes again. It was fitting that Blue would be the last thing he would see, even if it was just in his memory. *** “Wake up, bunny. You’re startin’ to worry me.” Stretch was never a fan of waking up, but it seemed particularly distasteful this time. He hadn’t found much reason to wake up ever since he’d lost Blue. Red and his brother were pretty understanding about it; they thought he needed time to grieve. “Bunny? Bunny? Come on, Stretch.” It must be something serious if Red was poking him and calling him by his name. Stretch groaned and rolled over; maybe he could satisfy the wolf that he was awake without actually waking all the way up. “There you are. Come on, Boss’ll be mad if he finds out. So we gotta clean you up before he gets back.” “Huh?” Stretch finally opened his eyes, but Red dropped a washcloth on him. While he was trying to imagine what they’d done that needed cleaning up before Edge found out, the wolf wrapped the cloth around him and started rubbing. It was much rougher than Red’s tongue had been, and Stretch opened his mouth to complain. Wait a minute. Why did he know so intimately what Red’s tongue felt like? Oh—that—and then— “You were supposed to eat me,” Stretch accused, trying to push the terrycloth away. “I did.” Red used the corner of the cloth to wipe at Stretch’s skull. “No you didn’t.” “Sure I did. Why do you think you’re all red and sticky now?” It didn’t feel sticky so much as slimy, but that wasn’t the point Stretch wanted to argue. “No you didn’t. I’m still here.” “What’re ya talkin’ about, bunny? Of course you’re still here.” “You didn’t do it right.” Stretch felt magical tears welling. “What am I supposed to do now?” “What’re ya sayin’, Stretch?” Red’s hands stilled and his expression darkened. “You didn’t expect me to—” He broke off, grimacing. “What did ya think was gonna happen?” Stretch looked away. “It’s not as bad as what happened—what I let happen to Blue.” “What happened to Blue?” “I told you.” “You told me he dusted, not how. Did he get eaten?” Stretch nodded, eyes still downcast. “So you thought you deserved the same?” “He was shielding me, and—he got snatched up instead.” “And you thought I would just eat you—and digest you—without a second thought?” Red sounded angry now, and when Stretch raised his eyelights, the wolf looked scarier than he’d ever seen him, one eye glowing, fur bristled, ears pinned back. “I—you’re a wolf,” Stretch tried to explain, faltering. Red growled, leaning over him, and the bunny cowered. In the next moment, Red was gone. Stretch sat huddled under the washcloth until Edge got home. *** “Red! You have to come out for dinner anyway. I refuse to let you eat in your room.” Edge knocked on the door again. Stretch was curled up in his other hand, clinging to the frayed edge of his scarf. He trusted Edge not to drop him, but it was a long way down. He’d been more afraid that the taller wolf would scrub away his limited HP in his enthusiasm for getting every one of his bones sparkling clean. Red was more on his own wavelength in matters of cleanliness, but it didn’t seem the shorter wolf was responding even to threats of no dinner. Stretch peered over his shoulder at the unmoving door. There was a leaf of notebook paper taped to it, scrawled with the words: no bunnies. He tugged on the scarf. “Don’t be mad at him. This is all my fault.” Edge’s jaw tightened for a moment. “Both of you should have talked it out more—if you really had to engage in that foolishness in the first place.” “I’ll just leave. Then he won’t have to hide in there.” “A wolf hiding in fear from a tiny bunny?” Edge snorted in amusement, then turned serious again. “Don’t do that. He’ll be more upset if he comes out and you’re gone.” “I don’t think he ever wants to see me again.” Stretch sank down into Edge’s hand. Edge poked him in the ribs. “Promise. That you won’t run off. If you want to hide, I’ll find you a place, but you may not leave the house.” “Fine, okay.” Stretch wasn’t going to argue with a huge, angry wolf. He pulled his freshly laundered hood over his skull. Edge turned to the door and knocked again. “Red. Your bunny misses you.” Red still didn’t answer. “Come on, bunny. We’ll start dinner and he’ll come down when the smell makes him hungry.” *** Edge was right. Stretch didn’t do anything to help except sit on the kitchen table, but after a while, when Edge’s cooking had produced a mouth-watering aroma, Red appeared in the doorway and slunk in. “Red!” Edge said sharply without turning around. “Why are you sneaking around like that? Nobody is angry with you!” Red pulled himself onto a chair and refused to meet Stretch’s gaze. “I know you don’t approve of eatin’ bunnies, Boss.” “That’s true! But how can I fault you when the bunny explicitly asked you to do it?” Edge set the finished lasagna on the counter and started cutting it into squares. Red finally looked at Stretch, and the bunny immediately looked away. He should have left before Edge got back and made him promise not to. Or at least hidden somewhere Red wouldn’t have to see him, maybe under the couch, or in Edge’s room. “Bunny…” Red sounded tired. “I’m sorry.” Stretch crossed his arms over the front of his hoodie, halfway curling up. “Yeah—me too.” Stretch dared to glance at the wolf. Red’s expression was dark, his ears laid back. “You’re—pretty mad, huh?” “Well, yeah.” Red softened even as he said so. “I can’t believe you thought—if I just wanted a snack, I wouldn’ta brought you in outta the snow, would I?” Stretch remembered the moment he’d met Red. He didn’t have any memory of how he’d escaped the monster that had taken Blue; the next thing he could recall was skeletal fingers lifting him out of a snowdrift. He should have been afraid when he realized Red was a wolf, but he was past caring. “I guess—I wasn’t thinking.” Red frowned at that. “I can—get out of your hare. If you’d like.” The bunny flinched under Red’s stare, but it slowly cracked into a grin. “That would be un-warren-ted,” Red answered. “I hope this means you’ve both come to your senses,” Edge grumbled as he brought them their food. “Thanks. But I wish I could do something to make it up to you.” The lasagna was a reminder of how much the wolves had done for him, and how helpless he was to do anything for them in return. “Well,” said Red. “If you wanted to. Only if you wanted to. We could try it again.” He scratched at his ear to hide how awkward it was to bring up. Stretch stared at him, shocked. Of course he’d assumed, before, that Red would enjoy eating him, but he’d dismissed that along with the assumption that the wolf didn’t care if he died. Now that he thought back on it, the physical sensations had been neutral-to-pleasant. He wasn’t sure if he was willing to do it again, but he could give it some thought. Meanwhile, he answered, “I guess that’s not off the table. Thought you wouldn’t like getting a hare in your mouth.” “Yeah, it can be really ear-ritating.” “If you’re going to have a pun-fest in here, I’m going to eat in the living room.” Edge picked up his plate. “Don’t go, Edge. We’ll be good.” Stretch scooted over to Red’s outstretched hand so that the wolf could pet his ears. “Yeah, Boss, no more rabbit puns,” Red agreed. Edge waited a moment to make sure that wasn’t the set-up for a pun and then relented, sitting down at the table. He slid Stretch’s plate closer to the bunny. “I got plenty of non-rabbit puns. Don’t wolf down your food now,” Red warned. “You’re not gonna curry any favor with me if your puns don’t pass mustard,” Stretch shot back. “No wolf or food puns either,” said Edge. “Why not, Boss? They’re so humerus.” “I find that hard to swallow.” Edge huffed in annoyance and sat back in his chair, but didn’t make good on his threat to leave. Stretch dug into his bunny-sized portion of lasagna.

[distant-rose]

Oreos at One-Thirty

Notes: Today is the two-year anniversary of the Little Pirates series. That’s right. On August 16th, 2017, I published the first installment of the series By the Hook. It’s insane to me to think I’ve been writing for this series so long and I couldn’t have done it without the amazing support of all my readers. While the first installment focused on Killian and Beth, I decided to celebrate the series by writing about Emma and Wes today. Thank you for everything and a special thank you to @optomisticgirl for constantly letting me spam her about this dumb ass universe. She’s a trooper. Summary: It’s the middle of the night and one of Emma Swan’s kids is out of bed. She’s not going to stand for this. Word Count: 2,500+ Rating: T

It was 1:30 in the morning when the stairs gave a small whine. It was a faint noise, one that most people wouldn’t notice.

But Emma Swan wasn’t most people.

She had never been the most peaceful of sleepers. The slightest of sounds had the tendency of waking her up, one of the many leftovers from living on the streets and staying in stolen hotel rooms. While a few of her habits from that time had faded, her light-sleeping habits seemed only be more honed with the birth of her children.

She laid there in her bed, ears straining for more movement and her hand automatically reaching for her nightstand where she hid her pistol. She would like to think that no one in Storybrooke would have the balls to attack her family in their home in the middle of the night, but with the number of villains and curses she had dealt with over the past couple of decades, she wasn’t willing to chance it. She glanced over at her husband, debating whether or not she should wake him. He was snoring away, completely unaware of the stirrings in their house, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to rob him of his sleep after some many late-night shifts at the station.

Her decision was made for her when there was another creak from the stairway, one that was only made when someone was putting their weight on the bottom step. She scowled in the dark.

There was no intruder in her house.

Someone was out of bed.

Muttering curses under her breath, she crawled out of the warmth of her own bed. Killian mumbled something in his sleep before shifting in the warm spot she had left behind and grasping at her pillow. If she wasn’t so annoyed with their kids, she would have smiled at the sight.

As she headed down the stairs, blue and white light danced across the walls followed by the faint chiming music of an advertisement for Old Spice. As she got halfway down, the identity of her little miscreant was revealed.

Her twelve-year old son was on her couch, watching television and stuffing not one, not two, not three but four Oreos into his mouth all at once.

“You got to be kidding me!”

Wes jumped at the sound of her voice, tipping over the large glass of milk he had been cradling in his elbow and sending the packet of cookies flying into the air. Emma’s mood only soured as she watched the mess spread across her leather couch and drip onto her brand new and very expensive carpet that she and Killian had bought two days ago.

“Uhhhhh…hi Mom…fancy seeing you here…” He scrambled a bit, looking around frantically for something before grabbing a half-eaten Oreo off the floor and holding it out to her. “Cookie?”

She gave him an unimpressed look, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms in front of her chest as she regarded him. His blue eyes darted between her and the Oreo in his outstretched hand.

“What? Don’t believe in the five-second rule?”

“Westley.”

“I can get you a new cookie. It’s no big deal.”

“Westley Graham.”

“But it would be a total waste of a cookie and you know what Grandma Snow always says — waste not, want not.”

“Kid, it’s two in the morning.”

“Actually, it’s one thirty-two, so you’re—”

“Your bedtime is eight-thirty,” she cut him off, rubbing at her temples as her irritation with him rose.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Really? You do? So, you’re not actually here? You’re upstairs like you were supposed to be for the last six hours and I’m just hallucinating right now? I’m not actually witnessing you out of bed and destroying my furniture?”

“No, I’m here. I did actually go to bed at eight-thirty like you wanted…I just woke up and got bored. It’s not like we have a mandatory wake-up time.”

“You’re supposed stay in bed until six-thirty…” Emma replied through gritted teeth. Wes raised his eyebrows at her, looking disturbingly like Killian whenever he was feeling particularly obstinate.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“When?”

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and mentally counted to ten to keep from screaming. When she looked back at her son, he was watching her with an expression that was caught between wary and amused. She was going to kill him.

“I’m saying it right now. Seriously. Kid, if you don't pick up that mess you’ve made of my living room and get your ass back in bed, so help me, I will tan your hide!"

“I’m pretty sure the law frowns upon child abuse.”

“Oh kid, you’re forgetting one teeny tiny detail, I am the law. Get some paper towels. Now.”

Catching her thunderous expression, Wes scrambled off the couch and headed into the kitchen. She was mildly impressed with how fast he was able to move on those skinny toothpick legs of his.

Emma let out a sigh, trying not to think about the ruined rug. Everything in her house was in a state of disrepair. The coffee table had watermarks on it. The couch had been broken more times than she could count. Even the television had small dents and scratches on the screen from the time Beth and Neddy had a lightsaber match that had gotten out of hand. What difference did it make that the brand new rug now had stains on it?

While waiting for her son to come back with paper towels, she went to work picking up the leftover Oreo crumbles on the couch. She deposited them in the empty side of the plastic container before sitting down on the dry side of the couch and turning her attention to the television. Her interest piqued as Dataline crossed the screen, detailing the disappearance of a young woman from Texas.

“They think her boyfriend did it,” Wes commented as he returned.

“What?”

“Christina Morris,” he replied, nodding his head towards the television. “They think her boyfriend kidnapped her. They’re not sure if he killed her or if he took her in Mexico or something.”

“Grim,” Emma remarked absently, picking up the last Oreo and biting it.

“Totally.”

“What the hell are you doing watching this in the middle of the night? You’re going to get nightmares from this stuff.”

“As if I don’t already have nightmares anyway,” he replied, not looking at her as he went about cleaning up the spilled milk.

Her anger and irritation melted away at his words, giving away to concern. She patted the place beside her. Wes hesitated, looking conflicted as he placed the soiled paper towels on the coffee table.

“Come here.”

He climbed onto the couch, placing some space between them. Emma was having none of it, pulling him by the shoulders and guiding his head into her lap like she often did when he was a much smaller boy and afraid of the dark. She brushed her fingers through his thick blond hair, frowning as she looked down at him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s got you so shaken up?”

“It’s just…” He trailed off, averting his eyes and swallowing his words.

“Wes…It’s better to talk about it.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m your mom, kid. I wiped your bottom when you were baby. Nothing gets more embarrassing than that.”

“Mom, c’mon,” he whined, turning on his side and pressing his face into her stomach. She didn’t press him any further. Even when he was a baby, he had never responded well to being pushed into things. He had inherited both her and Killian’s stubbornness in tenfold. Getting him to do anything when he was a toddler had been absolute nightmare and he had only gotten slightly better in age, replacing tantrums with a defiant look and firmly stated “no.”

So, she did what she felt was best in these type of situations. She waited for him to open up to her, continuing to run stroke his hair and watched what was left of the Dataline episode on her TV screen.  They were showing interviews with Christina’s suspect boyfriend before Wes mumbled something against her clothed belly, his breath warming the fabric.

“What was that?” she asked, pausing her ministrations.

“Clowns.”

“Clown?”

“Clowns,” he repeated. “You know like killer clowns. Like in that movie, you know, It?”

Emma shuddered. She remembered the Stephen King novel vividly. She had read it back in when she was in prison and had nothing but time on her hands. It had given her nightmares as well.  She was aware it had been turned into a movie a couple of times, but horror movies had never been her thing and she had little desire to actually watch it. She had found the story to be disturbing at eighteen, she couldn’t imagine how terrifying it was to a twelve-year old. He shouldn't be watching or reading things like that.

“Wait a minute,” she frowned, coming to a realization. “How do you know about It?”

“Henry!” Wes replied a little too quickly.

“You, Westley Graham Jones, are a liar and a terrible one at that,” Emma said pointedly, giving him a tired glare. “One, Henry hates horror movies... and possibly killer clowns more than you do. Two, he would never in a million years let you watch something like that. So, tell me the truth this time.”

“Okay, okay, okay. Just promise me you won’t get mad?”

“I’m making no such promises. Seriously, Wes. The truth.”

He let out a heavy dramatic sigh. He was becoming more and more moody as he had gotten older. He was going to be a nightmare teenager. Emma was sure of it.

“Gideon and I snuck into a showing of it during Halloween. He said if I didn’t it would be because I’m scared, and I’m not scared of anything—”

“Except clowns,” Emma cut him off. “Wes, that’s an R rated movie. Gideon is fourteen and even he’s not old enough to watch those kinds of movies. You certainly aren’t. There are ratings on things for a reason.”

“It’s just a movie,” he scowled at her.

“Yeah. A movie that scared you badly enough that you’re having nightmares and are up at all hours of the night feasting on Oreos,” she replied, looking at the demolished empty container. “Your father is going to kill you. His sweet tooth is almost as bad as yours.”

“So? You can just buy more.”

“You think money grows on trees, don’t you?” she asked, unimpressed with his answer.

“Well, money is made from paper and paper comes trees so there’s that.”

“Smart ass kid.”

“Better than being a dumb ass.”

“God, you’re so my kid it hurts sometimes,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

He was staring up at her with that impish little grin that seemed to have permanent residence on his face since the time he could walk. He was a good kid though, even if he did sometimes eat all the Oreos and wake her up at all hours of the night. Out of her five children, Wes was the most like her; a little rough around the edges and sometimes a little too smart with his mouth, but he was never malicious. He was just a little too defensive and wanting to prove to be people he was tough. She had been the same at his age.

She wanted to soften those edges. Hers had been bore out of a need to survive; they had been necessary to endure group homes, bullies, being homeless, being in prison and then later as the Savior. Wes didn’t need them. Nothing was going to happen to him, not while she was still breathing.

“You know it’s okay to be scared right?” she asked after a moment.

“What?”

“Being scared of things. It’s normal.”

He scoffed at her words. “You’re not scared of anything.”

“That’s not true,” she sighed. “Want to know a little secret?”

He nodded wordlessly in response.

“I get scared a lot,” she admitted. “I get scared all the time of things – villains, bills, that I’m not being a good mom—”

���But you’re the best!” Wes protested, cutting her off.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, let me finish,” she responded gently. “The point is sometimes I get scared, but the important thing is to not let it control you. Sometimes fear is a healthy thing, but it shouldn’t paralyze you and stop you from doing things…Do you understand me?”

“Yeah…I guess…” He looked unsure.

“Do you know what makes me feel better when I’m scared…Knowing that I have your dad…and Henry…and your grandparents…and even Regina...I just know that having them in my life makes me stronger and that I’m not alone…and you know what, kid? You’re not alone either…you have all of us and even your brothers and sister.”

“I’m not trusting Neddy to fight off bad guys. He’s barely toilet trained.”

“Oh, stop, he’s fine. A little accident here and there isn’t bad. Give him a break.”

“He peed on my bed, Mom.”

“Like I said accidents happen. He’s not gonna be little forever. He might be even bigger than you and Har someday.”

“Yeah right,” he scoffed.

“All kidding aside, it’s okay to get scared but you can’t let it control you and your sleep schedule…”

“I know, I just…I’m not ready to go back to sleep yet.”

“And that’s okay…We can stay down here for a little bit and watch some TV but not all night, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, batting his forehead against her hand. She chuckled quietly to herself as she resumed stroking his hair. He reminded her a bit of the stray dog she used to feed back when she was in Boston, starved for food and attention.

A new episode of Dateline started, and Emma watched it half-heartedly. Her attention was more focused on the droopy-eyed boy in her lap. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier as the minutes passed. He was asleep a good few minutes into the episode. She debated quietly whether or not she should wake him so he could sleep properly in his bed but loathed the idea of waking him up again.

She placed a brief kiss on his forehead before gingerly removing his head from her lap and placing a decorative pillow underneath it. She picked up one of the various throw blankets that were strewn carelessly across the floor and tucked him in. She left the television on, wanting to give him some source of light just in case Pennywise the Clown haunted his dreams again and woke him up. It was one of the few things she craved when she awoke from nightmares, being able to see her surroundings and make sure she was safe. She could only imagine that he might desire the same thing.

As she slipped back into bed, Killian wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her close and nuzzled his nose against her neck.

“You’re back,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah. I’m surprised you’re awake.”

“You really think I was going to sleep without you in our bed, love?”

“Well…with the way you were snoring…”

“Hey now,” he muttered in mock offense, nudging her foot with his. “Wes back in bed?”

“You know it was him?”

“Educated guess really. He’s our biggest night owl.”

“He had a nightmare. He and Gideon have been sneaking into R rated movies.”

“We’re going to have to watch him. If anyone is going to be throwing secret keggers, it’s going to be him,” Killian commented.

“Probably, but let’s worry about that when he’s a teenager and not at two in the morning. Right now, I just want to go sleep.”

“Alright, love,” he chuckled before placing a kiss behind her ear. “Pleasant dreams.”

“Yeah, no clowns hopefully."

[ascreamingstrawberry]

Colors of the Heart

Summary:  The explanation that most health classes gave you in middle school was pretty simple, you could see every color but your soulmates eye color until you saw your soulmate cry.

June 24th : Friendship, June 25th : Roceit, June 26th : Loceit, June 27th : DLAMP, June 28th : Patceit, June 29th : Anxceit, June 30th : FamILY

Pairings: DLAMP, Roceit, Lociet, Anxceit, Patceit, Analogical, Royality, Moxiety, Logince, Logicality, Prinxiety

Word Count: 4,545

Warnings : Deceit’s name is Solace in this. Sympathetic Deceit. mentions of anxiety, bad days, playful teasing, bad self talk, frustration, etc.

Notes : I actually love this? Leave a like, a reblog, message, and reply! I love hearing your comments.

No one really remembers when someone discovered tears and eye color and all the soulmate junk that went into it but the explanation that most health classes gave you in middle school was pretty simple. You could see every color but your soulmates eye color until you saw your soulmate cry.

This had to do with the chemicals enhancements in the eye drops every person took and some special soulmate pheromen, that Solace hadn’t paid enough attention to learn. When the first class on soulmates ended, every kid was comparing what colors they could and could not see, and the next day they were coming in with onions trying to make themselves cry to see if any of them were soulmates. It had worked for Louis and Amelia, but nobody else in his class.

Solace hadn’t participated.  All he could do to help his chances was take his eye drops, because without it the pheromen took days to kick in and he wanted to know who his soulmate was the minute he saw their tears, so he could comfort them of course.

Solace figured out he had multiple. He couldn’t see shades of the color violet :a very rare eye color; and he also couldn’t see green, blue, and brown. He could still see his favorite color yellow though, and he was sure his soulmates weren’t missing too much by not being able to see the bright grey that was his own eye color. 

He missed colors, even if he’s never seen them never even able to imagine what they look like, it was a funny feeling to miss something you didn’t know. He guessed it was kind of the same way that he missed his soulmates. He knew he wanted to be the best soulmate possible, but Solace had a habit of saying the wrong thing to people, so by age eighteen he was certain he’d probably figure out his soulmate by making them cry.

And he was right about one thing. 

Green - Sad Tears

“Oh please you love me.” Roman’s voice carried through the college cafeteria, ringing a little bit in Solace’s ears. He groaned as he sat down, barely listening to Logan’s snarky response, but reveling in the way Patton wrapped his arm around his shoulder as he took his seat. He couldn’t let him know that though.

“Stop.” Solace hoped his tone was playful, as he moved his arm off of him, whispering so he didn’t interrupt the scene in front of them.

Roman had one of his feet on the chair next to him, being dramatic, until Virgil trailed from behind Solace and moved his foot rather roughly to sit down next to him. Roman nearly fell into Logan who was sat on the other side of him, the three of them across from Solace and Patton. Roman huffed and turned to Patton as he laid his head on Solace’s shoulder. “You okay, Padre?”

“Hm?” Patton smiled, and Solace tried to get a look at it from where he was above Patton. Patton was a little taller than him, so his head blocked most of his view as he laid on Solace’s shoulder, but Roman appeared sated with whatever he found on Patton’s face. “I’m great!”

“Good, then maybe don’t use me as a pillow.” Solace laughed, and Patton removed his head quickly. Conversation continued normally for the group of five, Roman telling them about the theatre department’s latest antics, Logan talking about his molecular genetics lecture even despite Solace and Virgil being in the same lecture. However there was silence in between the gaps that were usually filled with Patton talking about the kids he got to work with during his education classes.

Nobody seemed to mention it. It was probably another one of their before Solace, the four of them had been friends for a semester before Solace came to this university, with Solace wanting to take a semester off after high school, and there were just some things he’d be left out on. Eventually, Virgil and Logan left to get some early winks for their 8 am, and Roman headed over to rehearse lines with the drama club, leaving them all with kisses on the cheeks : an odd goodbye ritual for the group. Either way, it left Patton and Solace on the walk back to the dorms.

The silence had started to bug him about halfway but he didn’t say anything until he heard a sniffle and felt a shiver come from his left. “Pat, what’s up with you? You’re not acting nearly as annoying as you normally are.”

He had about two milliseconds before the waterworks started and he turned to reassure him that he wasn’t annoying he was just joking when he caught the greatest glimpse of something on the ground. The grass had-well it had color. Most of it was covered it white, the last couple pieces of snow lingering way too long, but there was, grass was what, grass was green! He could see green! Oh god green was beautiful, he turned to tell Patton about it but he was gone. The sound of footsteps in the distant.

It had taken him the entire walk back to his room to stare up into his ceiling realizing that he had been able to see green because Patton had cried and Patton’s eyes were green, and Patton was his soulmate. And it terrified Solace, but it made him want to run.

So he ran to Patton’s room, knocked on the door with more excitement than he had ever felt in his life, knocking fast and like three times, bouncing up and down with energy only for Logan to answer the door. It seemed reasonable, he and Patton were roomates. But as it opened, Solace saw the other two, and ran over to Patton, in the middle of a group hug, no longer feeling the urge to tell him that he made Solace see green, but to apologize. Patton hugged him quickly, explained it had been just a bad day, and as another group hug erupted around them, Solace tried not to think about how everyone wasn’t really touching him, just hovering. 

Violet - Scared Tears

Solace loved parties. He liked the dancing, he liked people pretending to want to get to know each other only to pretend not to know who they were the next time they saw each other. In high school, he had loved to think about meeting his soulmate at a college party. That thought didn’t entertain him as much these days as he watched Patton hover around the others. Little touches, longer goodbye cheek kisses. None for Solace though. Maybe he realized it, and was trying to send him signals? That’d be impossible though because Solace hadn’t told him, and Patton hadn’t seen him cry.

None of that came to matter even as Roman and Patton found a way to dance in the hundreds of college kids packed in to the bottom floor of this tiny house, because this tiny house was getting busted. Kids slowly poured out, the police never really tried to catch anybody at these kinds of things they just shut them down if it got too noisy. So mostly everyone was fine, everyone except Virgil.

When Solace felt the tight squeeze of the back of his arm disappear, he whipped around and saw Virgil on the ground, clutching his ears tightly. Solace didn’t have time to think about getting any of the others, if you hung around you would get arrested, so he reached down to pick Virgil up by his knees, bridal style. Virgil wrapped his arms around his neck, and Solace carried him out of the house all the way to where Patton, Roman, and Logan were looking for them worriedly on the street corner by the house.

“Thank god.” Roman called as Solace approached, his arms on fire from carrying Virgil all this way, he refused to hand him over to anyone else. Virgil was taller than him, skinnier and at least thirty pounds lighter, but still taller.

“We thought you-” Patton began but Solace shook his head, probably better than to scare him with more could ofs. They all starting walking back towards Logan’s car, and when Solace did set Virgil down for a minute they kinda full behind, he did it so the boy was standing in front of him, looking up at him. Just to check on him, Solace told himself, like a good friend.

And suddenly the patches on Virgil’s hoodie stood out to him, looking rich in color. He’d gotten used to green, so it wasn’t that, and it was almost like red but not at all really, but he shook his head visibly before he could think on it. Virgil needed him. “Piggy back ride to the car?”

Virgil smiled, wiped his hoodie sleeve over his eyes, his black makeup underneath it smudging along the interesting colored patch while Solace turned around and bent over for him to jump on his back. It hurt a little more to carry him this way, but the giggle Virgil let out when Solace went Naruto running passed Roman, Logan, and Patton to the car with him on his back made up for it.

He and Virgil climbed in the backseat, and when Patton climbed in on the other side of their anxious friend, he made a comment about washing Virgil’s hoodie so he could get the black out of the violet patch on his sleeve.

So violet, it was. And it seems, another one of his friends was Solace’s soulmate. Yay him. 

Brown - Happy Tears

Roman had done wonderful. His solo was probably the best song in the whole play, and Solace couldn’t help but getting this giddiness in him watching the way Roman bowed with complete and utter confidence in his performance. They, being Solace, Logan, Virgil, and Patton, snuck backstage to see him at the end of it before anyone else could. Or had at least tried to.

Roman had been lifting Logan in the air, he being the first to reach there as he had the longest legs and a history of track. Solace brought up the rear and Roman must have finally conceded with the nerd’s uncomfortableness with being twirled around because as soon as Solace entered, Roman put him down. He didn’t pay much attention to it because not a second later, a loud deep voice was calling from behind. “Hey son!”

Roman’s stepfather.

Roman’s stepdad was the most interesting guy Solace had ever heard about. 6 foot 3, football star quality, but also in the front row of every show Roman ever did. Solace knew Roman’s past, how he didn’t like to talk about most of it, his dad leaving him, and his mom passing away shortly after giving birth to his baby brother. But his stepdad and his brother? He’d talk about them for days if he could.

“Squirt!” A child’s voice called.

“Hey bub!” Roman laughed, bending over and picking up the tiny child ruffling the child’s black hair.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, yet.” Roman’s stepdad clapped him on the back, almost sent him flying considering he was the shortest among the group.

“I’m Solace, sir, nice to meet you,” Solace held out his hand but Roman’s stepdad just laughed and pulled him in for a tight one armed hug. Solace closed his eyes as he did, leaned in a little toward it hoping no one would notice, and when he pulled away he was relieved to see Roman’s stepdad still smiling.

“So what did you think about his performance?” Roman’s stepfather walked around to each of the boys to give them the same hug, and he watched as each returned it, even Virgil who normally shied away from physical touch at all.

“I thought he was amazing!” Patton said.

“You did alright.” Virgil shrugged, despite the smile on his face.

“Arguably, I’d say his performance was impeccable.” Logan replied.

“What about you Solace?” Roman asked, switching his brother to his right hip, as the five year old played with his hair. Solace watched as Roman bit his lip nervously and flashed a shaky smile, he saw the hidden question there. Did you like it?

“Roman was surely the best part of it all. The way he commands the stage is just so powerful, and his bass voice filled up the whole auditorium, it actually gave me chills.” As soon as he opened his mouth, the words just kind of spilled out of him, and he even raised his arm to prove his point, keeping the other arm with the roses for Roman behind his back, that also had goosebumps.

Even though, he was pretty sure that was just from naturally being colder than everyone else, but they didn’t need to know that. And when he looked back at Roman there were little glass drops collected at the edges of his eyes, and Solace held out the roses, an apology for making him cry but Roman dropped his head to hide the tears. Then, after what seemed like a lifetime, Solace was able to see the color of Roman’s hair. It was kind of dark, not like Virgil’s hair, but also warmer and Solace looked around, trying to take in new things. It was almost like red, but he knew it wasn’t because Patton’s hair was red and he’d been able to see it since the first day they’d met. Logan’s hair was a shade of this new color, darker than Roman’s, and so was Patton’s pants, and the color of Roman’s stepdad and brother’s skin. This new color was everywhere!

Brown, his brain telling him, and when a flyaway hair on Roman’s head shook as he laughed and mumbled through a thank you, Solace figured he quite liked brown.

They all got invited out to eat with the Prince boys, and Solace found himself watching the way Roman laughed or smiled, feeling it light up his entire insides. He took the gaps in between tales of backstage mishaps and near flukes, to glimpse at Virgil’s soft smirk and Patton’s easy smile, making the feeling grow. This was going to be a long night. 

Blue - Stressed Tears

“Fuck midterms.” Solace mumbled, plopping in a seat next to Logan that everyone else seemed to be avoiding as hey sat at the complete opposite end of the study table.

“Amen.” Everyone cheered without picking their heads up from their books, and then Solace was lost in the hours of studying.

When he finally looked up from the pages and pages of history notes, the table was exceedingly less populated than before, he noticed. Looking around the room, there was a staircase in the room behind them, that led up to a circular room with a hole in the middle looking down over the chair. Roman and Patton escaped up there, bending over the railing on the hole to wave hello as he looked up, before crouching down and resuming whatever they were doing. Virgil was asleep in the big lounge chair in the corner with his cordless headphones over his ears, it was almost three am after all, he said upon clicking open his phone.

He stretched his arms, a little moan escaping him as joints cracked and muscles ached, pulling out his earphones. Just in time too, because as he opened his eyes again, he heard rather than saw Logan’s head slam against the table. Solace placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him a little. “Logan, Logan, are you okay?”

“No.” Came the answer muffled by study guides and excessively highlighted notes.

“Let’s take a break.” Solace said, standing up out of the chair, and walking to the other side of Logan’s chair pulling it back a little. Logan’s head didn’t move but his body did, lifting his shirt a little so that Solace could see the pale skin with bright veins. He set the chair back down.

“Can’t.” Logan mumbled again.

“Come on, let’s at least get so1me food in you,” Solace puts his hands on Logan’s shoulders and when he did, he felt the muscles in them twitching ever so slightly. Worried, Solace wrapped his hands around Logan’s armpits, pulling up hard enough to remove his deadlike weight from the table but hopefully not enough to hurt him. When he finally got a glimpse of Logan’s face he saw that he was not only crying, but sobbing with his entire upper body.

It was chilling, to say the least.

“Logan.” Solace mumbled, tugging on him to pull him up and out of his chair and into his arms. Logan pulled his head away from the hug, tried to say something, but Solace shushed him, rubbing his hand in circles along his lower back. And he guesses that must of broke him, because he practically threw his head against Solace’s shoulder, and shook harder and cried louder.

Soon enough, Solace caught sight of a familiar red hoodie, and something-something blue, blue he could see blue. Logan’s eyes were blue! Logan was crying and he could see blue so Logan was his soulmate! His last one!

Oh, fuck.

Patton’s shirt was blue, that’s what he had been seeing and he pulled Logan away from Solace a little roughly and into his arms while Roman went over to wake Virgil up. The thin student snapped awake, and Roman looked almost apologetic to take him by the hand and lead him over to the table, where Roman began packing up their stuff.

Virgil patted Solace’s back, as Patton soothed Logan enough for him to quiet down ever so slightly. Solace moved to get his stuff just as quickly, and when they were all down he followed behind the small group of four. Patton holding onto Logan as the tallest of them kept his arms wrapped around the smaller man’s waist and his head on his shoulder. Roman had his hand in Patton’s open one, and Virgil was next to Logan, so close their shoulders were touching but the science major didn’t seem to mind.

None of them seemed to notice Solace trailing behind, hovering in line with the space between Virgil and Logan’s bodies, staring at their feet moving along the floor in front of him. 

Grey - Lonely Tears

They’d announced their relationship as soon as midterms had been over, for Logan’s sake. They sat Solace down, told him how they were all soulmates but they still wanted to be his friend and wanted him to hang out with them. He’d smiled, told him he was happy for them, but declined their invitation to join them for movies and pizza.

Solace trailed down to the lobby of their dorm hall, turned the corner to the TV lounge. He sat down at the only table in the room, ignoring the sounds of pool, ping pong, and the grand piano coming from the activity room behind him, and opened his notebook. He attempted to study for an English quiz that he didn’t even really need to study for, and soon enough after about the fifth of sixth group of students passed him, he gave up. Leaning back in his chair dangerously, he pulled out his phone, pulling up a photo of the color wheel, and examined. He could see every single color. From the specific color of sandy brown that he related to Roman’s hair, to the orange that Logan’s math folder was. All the blues, greens, and violets of his soulmates there before him.

Fuck. He told himself that if he stayed in public he wouldn’t cry. He’d be able to ignore the jet black feeling that he felt in the middle of his chest, the dark blue clouds in his head.

“Oh please, sir Sing a Lot, Black Cauldron is way better.”

Of course, of fucking course. Solace sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he pulled the top of his yellow comfort hoodie over his face in an attempt to conceal his face. He leaned his head forward a little, so he could see out but no one could see his face, and the ears were a little harder to keep in as soon an he saw the four of their shoes come into view.

“But what if they’re hurt, Lo?”

Solace got about two seconds of warning before his little sliver of sight was clouded with the familiar black of Logan’s favorite polo. He ducked his head down even further, maybe they didn’t recognize him. And tried to close in on himself as soon as he registered someone in the chair next to him.

“Solace.” Roman’s voice held no room for disagreement, no way to disobey. So he lifted his head, let whoever was next to him pull back the hood off his head and tried to keep more tears from doing more damage. Roman, who he now realized was sitting next to him, gasped and reached out to touch him but Solace flinched away. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”

“I’m f-f-fine.” He stuttered out wrapping his arms around himself. The nickname hurt. It’d been silly enough at first, a simple misunderstanding of his name. Solace, Roman, it means comfort not solstice, he could hear Logan’s voice say in the back of his head. Now it just reminded him of of the warmth he felt looking at Roman on stage, or hearing Virgil laugh, or seeing Logan smile. They had to know-they had to know their color missing by now-and that it was him-they just, didn’t want him.

“That’s a lie.” Logan said but his voice getting farther away. Solace was getting lost in the missed messages they’d been sending him all along, they’d known from the beginning they were soulmates. All the stopping when Solace noticed something, hovering their touches instead of lingering them like they did with each other.

He felt the fabric of something, and a hand somewhere on his back, and slowly he was coming back, but refusing to look up at Logan. Roman must have been the hand on his back, he could see Virgil’s shoes behind Logan’s. “Lo-gan.”

Logan looked up away from Solace, to Roman behind the smaller boy. “What?”

“Your tie.” Roman pointed to the material the student had been using to wipe away the tears collected around the bottom of Solace’s chin.

Logan shot him a look of confusion before looking down, the tie was illuminating with a sharp color, one Logan knew, he knew because it was only color he hadn’t been able to see in months. The only color he’d been missing since that day in his and Patton’s room. He’d worn the tie as good luck, knowing it was grey. “I can see it.”

“It’s grey.” Virgil replied, moving closer, bending down and Solace wanted to lean back to run away. Why were they rubbing it in? He wanted to scream yes, he was their soulmate, yes he’d leave them alone, yes he’d gotten carried away in the idea of true love and them. Far too carried away to remember that no one could really love him. But he stayed put anyway, frozen still, as Virgil found what he was looking for in his eyes and pulled Patton down to see.

“Oh sweetie.” Patton said before anything. Before meeting his eyes, and wrapping his arms around Solace tightly. It was warm, and Solace didn’t move at first. Was too afraid Patton might let go, funny enough. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Solace shook with a sob he didn’t know he’d been holding in, and soon enough the warm that surrounded his shoulders and a small hand’s width of his back, spread to everywhere. It was hard to tell where one boy started and the other began as they clutched onto each other. But Solace didn’t care.

It was so unfair to make him wait this long, but it was worth it. 

A month later, Solace walked over to the window, or rather the large easel blocking the window where his boyfriend stood. The wooden end of the paintbrush in his mouth, causing the tiniest bit of grey paint to drip onto his smock, as he stared down his painting in creative confusion. Solace wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, underneath the smock of course, and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder. Solace mumbled into the spot where Roman’s shoulder met his neck. “S’pretty.”

“Yes, well it’s a lot easier to paint the stormy colors, now that I can see all of them.” Roman laughed, pulling the paintbrush out of his mouth so he could turn his head and press a kiss to the side of Solace’s face.

“Sounds like a metaphor.” Patton yawned, stretching his legs out from his place curled up on the big large bed. It was actually two of the school issued beds put together, since they all needed a place to hang out in, and even though Patton and Logan shared, their room was always a mess. Solace didn’t have a roommate, and didn’t mind sharing his bed with his boyfriends one bit.

“A pretty sad one if it is.” Logan mumbled next to him, his arm still laid over Patton’s stomach from his spot on the bed.

“It’s too early, go back to bed.” Virgil groaned. He wass curled up in the corner and grabbed his pillow to reach behind him and whack whoever was closest to him in the face. It happened to be Logan.

“We would, but Ro’s painting.” Solace teased, pressing a kiss to Roman’s cheek before pulling away and joining the other three back on the bed. He climbed up the step stool he had because Solace was barely over five foot, and wiggled his way in between Logan and Virgil to pull the thinnest boy toward him and into his chest.

“Bleh.” Virgil mumbled, but rested his head on Solace’s chest anyway.

“You love me, shut up.” Solace leaned down to press his lips against Virgil’s, not even paying attention to the other’s morning breathe because as soon as their lips met, he melted. Pulling Virgil a little closer, pushing against him a little harder-

“Hey! Save space for me.” Roman laughed, removing his smock, setting his paintbrush in his cup of water, and full on jumping into bed with them. They all groaned somehow each one of them had been hit by at least one of Roman’s limbs but as he used his wide wingspan to pull them all toward him, they really didn’t care. Patton fit in between his legs, Logan was on his left side, Solace settled near his right shoulder, and Virgil tucked himself in between Solace and Patton, on top of Roman’s legs. “Much better.”

“Agreed.” Came four responses, and soon enough morning turned into afternoon, and sleepy kisses turned heated, and by the time they were up for good, Roman was pointing out the colors in his painting. It seemed every color was there, but the ones that stuck out to Solace the most were the five yellow stars that hung in the grey and blue night sky on the canvas.

[someinvisible-string]

Magnificent and Furious Ch. 8

Summary: After many years, rumors swirl that the Evil Queen is back and filled with more vengeance than ever. But instead of setting her sights on Snow White she goes for the thing  Snow loves most, her beloved daughter Emma. For her own safety, Emma is to be transported to safety on an unassuming merchant ship, where she meets two indentured servants hoping for a way to find their freedom

A/N: All right folks we are over the halfway mark on this fic and I really wouldn't have been able to finish this fic at all if it wasn't for the CSBB and more specifically my beta readers @justanotherwannabeclassic and @eloquentlyenchanted This fic wouldn't be what it is without their feedback and critique. And I also implore that you all go an give @princesse-swan some love for all the gorgeous artwork she has made for this fic!

last chapter/ AO3

Picset

After the hours of walking through the forest, Robin had found a space large and safe enough for the camp. Emma sighed in relief as she and Killian set up their tent alongside the others, though judging by the wary looks thrown over shoulders and the nervous whispers that flew through camp their relief was short lived. She thought back to Killian’s words in the clearing, he was right; these people, her people, needed hope. They needed her.

“All right,” she murmured to Killian as they entered their tent. No one had been interested in gathering around a campfire, instead most opted to turn in after the long and stressful day.

“Hm?” Killian queried as he laid down on his sleeping roll and Emma followed suit, laying down next to him.

“You were right, these people need something to hope for,” she took a deep breath. “I think I need to tell Robin who I am. Who I really am.”

“Emma, are you sure?”

“We know that he has no reason to hurt us and we could really use all the allies we can get. Regina isn’t going to go down without a fight.”

“We?” Killian cocked an eyebrow at her, Emma felt her face flush.

“I mean, if you don’t want to come into the battle with me that’s fine, it was presumptuous of me to assume that you’d just come head first-”

“Emma, of course, I’ll be joining you,” Killian put his arm around her shoulders, “I���m in this for the long haul.”

Emma looked up at him, “But what about Liam? You might not get the chance to find out what happened to him, to find him and the others.”

Killian sighed, rubbing his hand across his face, “I’ve made my peace with what happened with Liam. I can have hope that when you do finally reunite with your parents they can give me the information I want but Emma, lately, this journey hasn’t been about Liam for me. Not for a while actually.”

Emma let his words wash over her if this journey wasn’t about Liam then… “It’s for me?”

“Aye,” Killian met her eyes and for just that moment it was as if the entire world consisted of just her and Killian inside their tent. She didn’t know who leaned in first, whose eyes fluttered shut, or whose hands reached for the other. All she knew was that everything she wanted but couldn’t say was wrapped into that kiss. Their lips met, gentle and shy at first. Killian started to pull away, almost unsure of what they had just done but her hands found his shirt and pulled him closer. She felt his arms wrap around her waist and she tried to pour everything that she wanted to tell him into the kiss. That she was overwhelmed by his commitment to not only her but her family, her people. That she was sorry for what he had lost. That she was certain she wanted no one but him fighting by her side and possibly remaining there once the battle was won.

The next morning, they woke tangled together just as they had that first night (and a few nights after) but now instead of quickly retracting themselves they lay content in their private bubble.

“Good morning,” she whispered, placing a kiss on his shoulder. She felt rather than heard his chuckle. He ran his fingers through her hair, lighting tugging near the scalp.

“Morning love,” he smiled, his voice raspy with sleep. He tilted her head up to kiss her properly, his stubble tickling her face.

“We should get up, get some breakfast before they run out,” she whispered trying to push herself into a sitting position.

“Must we? I would much rather continue what we were doing last night,” he smirked lasciviously at her and held her by the arm.

“Killian,” she quirked her eyebrow at him, reminding him what needed to be done today.

“I know I know, but can you blame me for wanting a few more moments of bliss with you?”

“Not at all but still we should get up,” Emma sighed. She understood wanting to stay in the tent, to keep their illusion of paradise intact, but the drawn and frightened faces of her people came back to her.

“Aye,” Killian said, stroking his hand up and down her arm. “You can do this Emma. I know you can.”

Emma nodded and swallowed trying to believe his words. “Thank you. Okay no time like the present,” she got up and pushed open the tent flap, trying to emulate the long confident strides her mother used to take. Killian hurried after her until the reached Robin, Marian, and Roland sitting together heads bowed.

“Ruth, Killian, you two are in a hurry it seems,” Robin looked up at them, his usually easy smile strained.

“We need to talk to you, all of you,” Emma said. Marian leaned forward in her seat, head resting on her knuckles and looking concerned, Roland’s eyes flashed with fear and he straightened himself as if bracing himself for bad news, Robin stayed still.

“I’m not a scullery maid and my name isn’t Ruth,” Emma said before taking a deep breath, “I’m Emma of Misthaven, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. I’m the Savior.”

Roland and Marian both looked stunned but Robin instead smiled, “I should have known, you’re the spitting image of your mother.”

“You know my mother?” Emma asked, just as stunned as Roland and Marian.

“Our wanted posters hung alongside each other once upon a time,” Robin explained. “We knew each other in passing, of course, she also used a pseudonym back then.”

“What I’m trying to figure out is,” Roland interjected, “is why tell us now? You had plenty of time to tell us before so why now?”

“Because she’s going to need allies, a lot of them,” Killian said. “We understand if you don’t want to be involved, this isn’t your fight. Hell, I didn’t want to be involved but Emma told me something a few weeks ago that I won’t soon forget. You get a chance to be a part of something, something bigger than yourselves; to bring down the Evil Queen and bring freedom to not only your people but to all the people of Misthaven.”

“Plus if you have terms like protection for your camp wherever you are in the forest-” Emma stopped as Robin held up his hand.

“While you two were both very convincing, I’m afraid you’ve wasted it on us,” he sighed. Emma looked to Killian terrified of what he could say next. “Because my family and I are of course going to help you in whatever way we can.”

“Really?” Emma was so shocked she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Of course dear,” Marian said rising to her feet and embracing her.

“You can count on us mate,” Roland extended his hand to Killian. Killian smiled and shook it.

“Thanks, mate.”  

They agreed to take the rest of their conversation into the privacy of Robin and Marian’s tent to discuss more strategy.

“So I still have letters for Elsa, Merida, and Cinderella as well as Princess Melody of Glowerhaven’s support and Navy, these kingdoms have been allies of Misthaven for years I’m sure they’ll help us,” Emma said pulling the letters out of her bag and handing them to Robin.

“Interesting, it would seem that you are very well equipped to take on this queen then Emma,” he said turning the letters over in his hands.

“With soldiers, yes but there are things that you and your Merrymen can do that they can’t. You’re the best archer in a generation with Roland not far behind you, plus I can’t simply show up at Regina’s door with an army and a sword. I need spies, scouts who can remain hidden and let us know everything we need to know. Regina certainly isn’t going to go down without a fight, we need every possible advantage we can get.”

“This is all very well thought out dear but I have one concern,” Marian said softly. “There are children in this camp, elderly, sick people who cannot or who simply don’t wish to fight in this war. What will happen to them if you take all our best protectors?”

Emma stopped, she hadn’t thought of that. What would happen to them? What could she do to even try to ensure their safety? She began to pace in the small space of the tent, her mind running when she felt something hit her painfully on the hip. She looked down into her bag and found a bottle, no the bottle!

“We use this!” she pulled the bottle out of her bag.

“Isn’t that a bit too small to fit people in?” Roland asked, clearly holding back a laugh.

“It’s magic, the ship will get bigger and anyone who doesn’t want to fight can board and someone can sail them to a safe place until the war is done!”

“Who will sail, where will the go through?” Marian questioned.

“Glowerhaven, it’s miles away from where the fighting will be and it’s an easy passage with an experienced crew. Perhaps some Glowerhaven Naval men will volunteer to ferry everyone to safety and back once it’s safe.”

Marian nodded, her lips pursed in thought, “Yes that could work I think. Emma I just want you to be ready for these kinds of questions, these people have lost everything. Their homes, any prized belongings, their family, their hope. They’re going to want to know they can count on you to everything in your power to keep them and their loved ones safe.”

“I understand, best to try to work out all these questions now so we’re prepared tonight. I don’t want these people feeling more scared and confused than they already are?”

“Why don’t we do something tonight to loosen them up?” Killian said. “I mean there have been some rough times, and while the usual nightly bonfire is nice I think these people might need something a bit more. Look when I was on those ships after all the hard times we’d make port and allow ourselves to relax even if it was just for one night. A moral boost could really help drum up support.”

“What do you have in mind?” Robin asked.

“Does anyone in camp know how to play any instruments?”

A few hours later they had somehow found enough people who had instruments and who knew how to play them to form a small band of players. They sat off to the side going over different songs they all knew how to play and to rehearse.

“What’s all this then?” a burly older man said as he waddled up to the campfire for dinner.

“Entertainment,” Emma said cheerily as she served him a portion of roast rabbit. She tried not to let the scowl on his face deter her from the plan, most people seemed mildly interested and there were definitely more people smiling than there had been in recent days.

“Some people are going to need some time to relax and maybe some ale,” Killian whispered. Emma tried to stifle her laugh.

“Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves,” Marian came up behind them and put her arms around them. “Are you sure you’re ready for your announcement Emma?”

“I’m sure but I think I’ll wait a little while longer, let people enjoy the food and the music you know?”

“Excellent idea,” Marian patted her on the back. “But don’t you two forget to eat, Robin and I can take it from here.”

“You sure?” Killian asked.

“Of course, you two find somewhere to sit and relax,” Marian said. Emma and Killian wasted no time filling their plates with rabbit and finding a spot near the blazing fire. Several children who had already finished eating had decided they wanted to dance. Emma smiled watching them, thinking of how Charlotte had demanded a dance with her and Emma’s birthday. So much had happened between that night and this night, Emma knew it had only been a few weeks but she felt as if that girl who secretly enjoyed the lush ballgowns and the dancing and feared leadership was a stranger to her.

“You alright there?” Killian asked her.

“Fine, just thinking.”

“I figured,” Killian said, leaving her the opportunity to continue the conversation or leave it at that.

“Charlotte and I used to dance around campfires,” she smiled sadly.

“Well, why don’t we?” Killian put his empty plate aside.

“Why don’t we what?”

“Dance,” Killian said extending his hand to her. “Would you do me the honor of having this next dance?”

Emma looked from his hand to his eyes, “It would be my pleasure.” She took his hand and was surprised when he took the proper dance start, one hand clasping hers while the other rested gently on her waist. The band struck up a new song, a waltz that Emma didn’t recognize, but Killian lead her confidently, spinning her this way and that around the campfire. Emma felt the eyes of the others on her and was dimly aware that other couples were joining them in their waltz.

“Where did you learn all this?” she whispered to him. “Captain Shakespear?”

“No I had just always heard the most important part of dancing was picking the right partner,” he smirked but Emma could tell there was something he was keeping from her. “Okay, my mother was determined to teach Liam and me how to be gentlemen and part of that was making sure we knew how to waltz.”

“Well she’s a good teacher, you have yet to step on my feet and that’s something not many men seem to be able to avoid,” she said as he spun her out.

“Ah, but I’m not most men darling,” he whispered as he pulled her back in and placed a small kiss on her cheek. Emma hadn’t realized they had stopped spinning and were instead standing and swaying to the beat.

“You definitely aren’t,” she said and tilted her face up to kiss him properly, pushing back thoughts that this would probably be their one and only dance together.

“What in the name of the gods are we doing?” a voice boomed out, Emma turned away and saw the man from earlier storming towards her and the other dancers. “Dancing while the queen tears out hearts and burns down villages? Do you all have any heart left or did the Queen miss a piece?”

“Mate, people just wanted a night to relax; to boost morale,” Robin said walking up to the man.

“You think watching a bunch of you lot dance around is going to do anything? My wife is dead, my children are dead, my friends, my neighbors, my village all burned to ash. By someone who let's face it should have been gotten rid of years ago. And not banished to her fucking castle mind you, I mean in the ground six feet under. Snow White let this all happen again when she had the queen in her possession, but she just let the bitch fuck off back to her castle.”

“Hey! This is not all Snow White’s fault,” Emma shouted.

“How is it not? She wasn’t strong enough to get rid of this problem when she had the chance,” the man fired back.

“Showing mercy isn’t weakness, showing kindness to someone who has been horrible to you is strength, you ignorant dolt. And Snow White wondered for years if she made the right choice, she has more strength in her little finger than you do in your whole body.”

“Oh, and how would you know if she ‘agonized’ about her decision to let a murderer walk free?”

“Because she told me!”

“You? Why would she tell you? Who the hell are you to her, her scullery maid?” the man guffawed.

“No, her daughter,” Emma said turning and addressing the crowd. “I am Princess Emma of Misthaven, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. I am the heir to the throne and I vow to you sir and all of you that I will stop Regina.”

Shocked faces looked back at her accompanied by the loud snickering of the man, “And how can we believe you?”

Emma pulled the letters from her bag, “Royal stationery with the seal of the Misthaven Royal family.” She held out the letters for observation. “I know these times have been hard, everyone believed the Evil Queen to be a thing of the past and now she’s back. I’m not saying defeating her once and for all will be easy, this will be a war these kingdoms have never seen before. And I’m going to need help, now I can’t force you all to fight for me. I understand if you don’t but we are going to need all the help we can get to beat Regina and bring peace.”

“Fight for you? Are you mad?”

“If you don’t wish to fight then you have options; any children, elderly, sick people or people who are not willing to fight will be ferried to Glowerhaven where you will be safe and looked after. Once the war is over you may return to Misthaven if you so wish. But I implore you, if you are able, to join me and be a part of something. Something to tell your grandchildren about, something to be proud of, or because you know in your heart that this is the right thing to do, to help me fight and win us back our kingdom!”

Emma looked out around the camp, she had imagined that after she made her announcement that everyone would cheer, pump their fists in the air and that at least more than half of the able-bodied men and women would come forward. Instead, she was met with averted eyes and shifting steps. Mothers pulled their children closer as if Emma was going to snatch them up.

“Pretty words, sweetheart, but we’ve no fight left,” the man said, his words full of pity and condescension.

“There- there must be someone,” Emma stuttered.

“No there isn’t, run off now, little girl,” the man said. Emma wanted to stand tall and puff out her chest, she wanted to stand up for herself. Her bottom lip started to quiver and no, she was not going to let them see her cry.

“Right, well, I’ll give you all the night to think about it,” she said trying to keep the tremble out of her voice before walking quickly back to her tent. Once out of sight she let her tears flow, once out of earshot she let out a sob; how could she have been so stupid to think that these people would be willing to fight for her, to die for her, simply because she asked?

“Emma? Emma!” Killian’s heavy footsteps caught up to her. He caught her by the shoulder and she turned to look at him.

“I’m stupid, I’m so stupid,” she sobbed as she collapsed into his chest.

“Let’s get you back to the tent, come on love,” he guided her back to their tent, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Roland came jogging up, “Emma, I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”

“Not now, mate,” Killian said, ushering Emma into their tent.

“But I-”

“Not now!” Killian pulled the tent flap shut in front of him. Emma laid down on her sleeping roll, still sobbing and exhausted. Killian laid down next to her, tucking her into her chest.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered into him, tears still rolling down her face.

“Yes, you can, love. This is only a setback, tomorrow we’ll wake up and we’ll figure out a new plan, a better plan.”

“No, Killian, I was stupid to think I was capable of doing this. No wonder they said no, I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t do this.”

“Hey, hey listen to me. You can do this, you can and you will find another way. Take tonight and you can cry or rage or whatever you want if it feels better. But come sun up you and I and anyone who wants to help will find a new plan, okay?”

Emma sniffled, “Maybe. Or maybe we need to find a new Savior for them.” She turned over, facing away from Killian. She didn’t want to see the look on his face. Killian sighed, rubbing her shoulder in comfort but Emma could sense his disappointment. Two new tears slid down her face, Killian’s silence somehow more painful than the man’s words.

Emma didn’t sleep, her mind felt like it just couldn’t stop playing the scene with the man by the fire. Over and over it flew through her head on an unending loop until Killian’s snores were able to pierce through it. Emma blinked, she had no idea how long she had been laying in Killian’s arms, the pain in her knees and back from laying on the hard ground told her it had been at least a few hours. She turned her head slightly, Killian didn’t stir and instead, he snored even louder than Emma had thought even possible. She stretched and seeing no sign that Killian was going to wake from his slumber she carefully detangled herself from him and got out of the tent. Thinking quickly she grabbed a dagger and stuck it in her boot, just in case.

Her legs took her down to the small stream close to camp, the moon and the dying embers of the fire her only light to guide her. She knelt down, dipping her fingers in the cool running water and bringing it up and splashing her face.

“You’re restless,” a voice said behind her. Emma shot to her feet, pulling her knife out of her boot and holding it in front of her. “Very restless apparently,” an old man was in front of her chuckling despite the knife being pointed at him. Emma took in his wild grey hair and beard and strange robe.

“Wait a minute, you’re one of the new people,” Emma lowered her dagger a fraction of an inch. “Robin took you in a few days ago.”

“Yes my employer told me that it would be imperative to meet you while you were on this journey,” he nodded.

“Employer? Who the hell is that? What do they know?” Emma raised her dagger once more.

“He is all knowing in a way,” the man said unhelpfully. “I am to teach you many things, Emma.”

“Who are you?”

“You can call me the Apprentice,” he bowed his head.

“You’re a little old to be an apprentice,” Emma said.

“One is never too old to learn, especially from someone like the Sorcerer,” he said jovially.

“The Sorcerer? Seriously?”

“Yes, now come Emma. You have much to learn and not much time to learn it in,” he said turning on his heel and walking downstream.

“Hey!” Emma jogged after him. “How do you know what I need to learn? I’ve learned a lot in these past few days.”

“Yes, you have and you should be proud of all that you have accomplished. But I will ask you this, how do you intend to defeat Regina?”

“Well, I gather as many people as I can, strengthen and form alliances with other kingdoms….” Emma listed off things her tutor had taught her about strategy.

“Yes but after that? After you have entered all those people into your conflict?”

“It’s not just my conflict,” Emma bristled. “Regina is sacking and burning countless villages, tearing apart families-”

“All to find you, to settle an old grudge.”

“Yes, I know that,” Emma threw up her hands. “That’s why I’m done hiding in this camp, why I’m taking this fight to her.”

“And how do you intend to end this fight? This generations-old grievance? When you have Regina captured and defeated, how do you intend to ensure that she never rise up again?”

Emma stopped, her breath hitched as she realized what he was saying, “I’ll have to kill her.”

“That is one way, however, that is the answer I feared you would say,” the Apprentice hung his head.

“But you said I had to ensure that she doesn’t rise up again? How can I do that? She has magic for gods’ sake, she can shoot fire from her hands!”

“Yes she has magic, but what makes you think she is the only one?”

“I mean I know other people have magic, Queen Elsa of Arendelle has magic, ice magic actually. Are you saying that she should be the one to finish Regina?”

“You’re close but still no, your answer is at your feet.”

Emma looked down seeing only river rocks, “Huh?”

“You, Emma.”

“Yes me I know I should be the one to defeat Regina, but how do I do it?” Emma balled her hands into fists, she was getting tired of this so-called Apprentice’s circular answers.

“Regina and Elsa are not the only ones to have magic.”

“You think my magic will beat Regina?” Emma was stunned. “But- I can’t- It’s not strong enough.”

“You are the Savior Emma,” the Apprentice put his hands on her shoulders. “With that comes many gifts and responsibilities that may present differently than other forms of magic. Your magic is actually very powerful but in ways that even one such as the Blue Fairy may not recognize.”

“Okay say you’re right, say my magic is strong enough,” Emma broke out of his grasp and began to pace in front of him. “Then what are you saying? Me and Regina should have a magic fight?”

“In a way yes, there is a long forgotten object that will allow you to defeat Regina in a way that not even she is expecting.”

“What does it do?”

“It will strip her of her magic.”

Emma frowned, “Why would that defeat her? She still has power even if I were to take her magic. And besides, why should I even bother sparing her life when she killed countless people?”

“Emma, you are the Savior, you are the person people will look to for guidance, to be a beacon for righteousness and good. There are many paths you can take; each will have their own struggles but ultimately the right path will not be the easiest.”

Emma stood in silence, just letting his words wash over her. “That’s crap.”

“What?”

“That’s crap!” Emma yelled. “You’re saying I’m responsible for everyone’s goodness? I didn’t ask for that! I don’t want that! I didn’t ask to be the Savior!”

“Emma I cannot change your or anyone else’s destiny, but I implore you to open your mind and stop the cycle of violence that has plagued this land for far too long.”

“You’re crazy, I just want to get my family back,” Emma turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could back to camp.

“Where were you?” Killian asked as she burst into their tent. His hair was mussed and there was a mark on his cheek from where he had been laying on his arm and his eyes were full of worry.

“I needed to stretch my legs,” Emma said, it was a half-truth she knew but explaining to him everything she had just learned was just too much for her.

“You all right?” he asked, clearly sensing she was hiding something.

“Yeah, I was just restless,” she laid down quickly, turning away from him. She heard him sigh and felt him lay beside her, his arms wrapping around her again. She curled into his warmth, letting an uneasy sleep overtake her.

[iwritekpopthings]

You (Ch. 17)

Characters: Misun (OC), Jung Daehyun, B.A.P, other side characters Genre/ Warnings: Fluff, romance, slow burn Word Count: 1703

“Misunnnnnnnnnnie” Daehyun came into the clubroom and looked around.

“She’s not here yet, Daehyun-ssi.” Fae glanced up from the sewing machine as fabric piled around her.

“She’s usually here early though.” Youngjae stated as he slung his arm around Daehyun’s shoulders.

Fae nodded. “Maybe give her a few more minutes to show up.”

Daehyun pouted and sighed before nodding in agreement.

Down in the gym, Misun was pounding away on her punching bag. Sera had taped up her hands before she started so she was able to go extra hard.

“I still don’t think avoiding him like this is the best option.” Sera told the younger girl as she leaned against the wall and watched her friend. “Besides, you kind of have to go to club at some point.”

Misun huffed and stepped back. “I know, I know…” She sighed and began unraveling the tape around her knuckles.  After Daehyun’s confession on Saturday, the two of them had spent the rest of the day together. But now, she felt nervous. “What if he’s changed his mind? Maybe it was a dream.”

Sera rolled her eyes and came over, flicking the girl on the forehead. “You know it wasn’t a dream. That adorable necklace is proof enough.” She said, looking at the jewelry hanging around Misun’s neck. “Also, Daehyun is the type to take careful consideration when he makes big decisions. You know that by now, right? He wouldn’t confess just like that and then change his mind. Give the guy some credit!”

“I like him so much, though. It’s terrifying to think that he may change his mind.” Misun sat down and aggressively tossed the wad of tape at the ground in front of her.

“He promised, right?” Sera sat down next to her and stretched out her long legs while she tucked her hands into her hoodie pockets.

Misun nodded. “Yes, he did. But unnie… I’ve been promised so many things and been let down so many times.”

“I know, Misun-ah, but listen to me, okay?” Sera closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. “You followed my advice, so I’m going to give you some more. The terrified feeling that you have now is actually good. It means you care a lot about him. And that you want him to feel the same. Believe me, he is feeling the same way. He knows about your history. He’s not going to just abandon you like that.”

Misun was quiet for awhile as she considered the older girl’s words. “You’re right..” She finally sighed. “I’m still going to be worried though. I don’t think I can change that.”

“And that’s okay! Just be honest with him and tell him how you’re feeling. He’ll be sure to set you straight every time. I can just tell he’s that kind of guy. Like Yongguk, but even more so.” She smiled at the younger girl in encouragement. “Now let’s get you up to the clubroom. I’ll stay and help out if you want.”

The younger girl nodded and they both got up, gathered their things, and left the gym. On the way, a thought occurred to Misun. “Unnie, how did you and Yongguk oppa meet? You never told me.”

Sera blinked and looked away. “Uhh… You really want to know..?”

Misun nodded, her curiosity piqued. “Of course! It must have been really romantic, right?”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “Not at all, actually. I was really scared.”

Misun looked at her in surprise. “What? If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay. I can respect that.”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, you did tell us about your history after all.” She glanced at the girl and gave in. “Okay, so over back in June, I was walking back to my apartment at like two in the morning from my work. I lived in a bad part of town, but no one had ever bothered me, so I thought I was safe. But as it turns out, I wasn’t. A group of guys started following me about halfway home.”

“No way.” Misun was surprised and didn’t like where this story was going.

“Way.” Sera stopped walking and sat on a bench near a window. Misun sat next to her and continued listening. “So anyway, one of the guys grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. It was dark and I couldn’t really see very well; I knew self defense, of course, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to fight back against all of them. They told me to come with them and when I said no, they pushed me until I fell over. I scraped up my hands and knees pretty bad when I fell but I wasn’t concerned with that. Suddenly the guy was on top of me and I couldn’t do anything. I was terrified. They were being loud and obnoxious enough that someone noticed as they were walking on the opposite side of the street. He came over and... stopped them.” She paused in her storytelling as she thought about how graphic she wanted to go with this tale.

“It was Yongguk oppa, right?” Misun asked, to which Sera nodded.

“It was. He got them to leave and as he bent over to see if I was okay, I passed out.” She shook her head and chuckled. “It was kind of pathetic. Oppa later told me he was so confused. He had no idea what to do with an unconscious girl in the middle of the night in a bad part of town.”

Misun smiled. “I don’t think I would know what to do either.”

Sera grinned wryly and sighed. “So apparently he then went through my bag and found my ID. It has my address on it, of course, so he picked me up and dragged me all the way there. By the time I woke up, I was in my bed and it was morning. Yongguk was asleep on my couch and I think it was at that moment that I fell in love with him.” She smiled genuinely, looking outside at the snow as she continued. “Like, the sun was shining in through the curtains, hitting his tattoos and his face just right and damn, it was a hot sight to see.”

Misun laughed at the girl’s frank statement. “Then what, then what?”

Laughing, Sera glanced at her watch. “Come on, you’re late enough for club as it is.” She stood up, her hands in her hoodie pockets again as she led the way.

“Nooo, tell me..” Misun begged.

“Maybe some other time.” Sera winked and grinned, enjoying hanging this in front of her friend tauntingly.

“No, you gotta tell me~” Misun tried to use aegyo, making Sera laugh.

“Tell you what?” Daehyun’s head popped out of the clubroom as they approached, having heard their voices coming down the hall.

For a few seconds, Misun just stared at Daehyun and he stared back. Finally she got up some courage. “H-hey…”

He broke out into the biggest smile, his eyes disappearing into crescents as he walked over. “Hi. I’ve been looking for my girlfriend. Have you seen her?”

Misun blushed furiously as Sera made fake gagging sounds behind her. “Um, uh, no..?”

He shook his head and leaned in, pressing his lips lightly to Misun’s. “It’s you, dummy.” Daehyun pulled her into a tight hug, which she returned, a reluctant smile on her lips.

“Well I’m glad you found her.” She replied. She looked up at him and Daehyun winked at her before leaning in and kissing her longer. Misun kissed him back, just enjoying the moment.

“What the actual hell?!” Sooyeon’s screech caused the two of them to pull away quickly and look around in alarm. They saw Sooyeon standing in the doorway, watching the two of them. If looks could kill, Misun would be long dead by now.

“Hey, calm down.” Youngjae put his hand on her shoulder, which she just roughly shook off.

Sera watched the interaction intently, ready to fight, if it came to that. She glanced between the couple and the enraged girl, as she tried to think of a way to diffuse the situation.

“Sooyeon, I’m sorry…” Misun said quietly as she shrank against Daehyun. His hold on her tightened as he looked at the girl who locked his girlfriend in a shed only last week.

“Misun, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He told her. Then he sighed. “Sooyeon, you knew this was going to happen eventually. Just accept it and move on. I love Misun.”

At hearing his words, Misun felt her eyes sting. She nuzzled her head against his chest, willing herself to keep it together. Sooyeon growled and stomped away, tears in her eyes as well.

Once she left, everyone slowly calmed down. Daehyun looked down at the girl in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Hey, are you okay?”

She nodded and sighed, pulling away slightly to look up at him. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Sera sighed as well and waved. “Okay, Daehyunnie, if you’ve got things under control here, I’m out. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye unnie! Thank you for telling me your story.” Misun let go of Daehyun and went over to hug the other girl. “I’m glad Yongguk oppa found you.”

Her friend looked down at her in surprise, but returned the hug with a smile. “Me, too. And I’m glad Daehyun found you.” She looked up and winked at the boy, who was watching them in confusion. She let go and stepped back. “Okay~ See ya.” With that, the girl walked away.

“What do you mean, ‘your story’? Did she tell you about her past?” Daehyun asked, tilting his head to the side.

“She hasn’t even told us that yet!” Youngjae had his eyebrows raised and his hands on his hips.

Misun grinned and grabbed Daehyun’s hand. “Maybe I’m just special.” She smiled, tugging him toward Youngjae as the three of them went into the clubroom to get to work.

“You definitely are.” Daehyun said quietly and grinned as he followed her, loving the feel of his hand in hers.

★☆★☆★☆

[emmaswanchoosesyou]

Rules & Regulations (1/4)

I’m thrilled to present my contribution to the @cssns project! This got both longer and sillier than originally intended, and I hope you all enjoy it. 

Beta’d by the glorious @wingedlioness and with lovely artwork (including the banner!) done by @eastwesthomeisbest.

Rated T, for violence, language, and annoying bureaucracy. Also on AO3. ~3000 words.

He was a vamp, she was a witch; can I make it any more obvious?

&&&

He wasn’t a heathen.

Well, okay, he was, but that was just part and parcel of being a vampire.

At least vampires weren’t the soulless, lurking-in-the-night creatures of popular imagination. No, they had their souls. (Unless they’d sold it to the Devil, a demon, or witch, but any Tom, Dick, or Harry might do that.)

Killian was in possession of his soul, but he might well have lost his mind.

Emma Swan was driving him well and truly crazy.

He was just doing his best, doing what was required of him to fill the void on the Supernatural and Paranormal Beings and Creatures Council (S.P.B.C.C. for short, though it was still a mouthful) since he had killed Rumplestiltskin.

He was following the rules in a way he hadn’t since 1789, and it…chafed. If you were responsible for the death of a S.P.B.C.C. member, you had to make sure their people—or creatures, whatever--were still represented. As Rumplestiltskin was some unknown kind of imp who seemed unique in his essence in this world, there was no one left to represent, but his seat needed to be filled. Some had argued that Killian’s presence on the Council was just giving the vampires more than their share of voices, but that was rubbish.

For starters, Killian couldn’t stand the lot of them. They were old sticks in the mud, mostly traditionalists who went around wearing capes and talking about bloodlines. The others were Reform Vampires—poncy idiots who went on about better unliving through various serums and who were always on social media trying to manage perception of vampires in the non-magical world.

And for his part, Killian was content to reside somewhere between the two. He was here for some good, old-fashioned vengeance and violence, but one had to be practical as well. It was easier to come by coconut water than find someone’s blood to drink, even with the requisite sodium supplements he had to take. After all, leaving a swath of dead people tended to garner the wrong kind of attention.

And that was the other thing—he wanted to be left in peace to live his unlife, drinking his coconut water and from the occasional willing volunteer (gods, but he’d put on a few pounds during the Twilight craze).

He hadn’t wanted a position on the S.P.B.C.C., hadn’t wanted anything to do with it. But then Swan had descended from the sky like the terrifying bird of her namesake (he was disappointed to learn about the missed opportunity for a pun in her name, as she was in fact not a shapeshifter) and harangued him about “murdering” Rumplestiltskin and having to pay his dues.

Which meant sitting on that bloody council.

Okay, fine, he was a bit at loose ends these days. Having fulfilled his centuries-old grudge and finally offed His Glitteriness Rumplestiltskin might have left something of a void. And sure, sometimes he saw eternity stretching out before him like an unending circle of emptiness, but it was fine.

A voice cut through his musings and he jolted to attention. “Jones? Councilmember Jones? Killian Jones? Captain Hook? Do you have any fucking input for once, or are you too busy thinking about bloodbaths to pay attention to us today?” Emma Swan sounded cranky and irritable and a little like she was considering coming over and introducing a motion to punch him.

He smirked. “Sorry, love, I’m afraid you’ll have to repeat the initial question. I was rather dozing, as it is in fact daytime.”

“Not your love, Councilmember Jones. And for the love, come see me or Granny Lucas after the session,” she said, her golden hair cascading over her hands as she rubbed her temples in exasperation.

Maybe there was still some fun to be had after all.

&&&

Emma was going to murder him. Killian Jones might technically be dead already, but she would happily test out different levels of deadness.

He was impossible.

She was just trying to keep this stupid council with its stupid acronyms and stupid councilmembers running smoothly.

She hadn’t wanted this job, this position. She just wanted to work on her spells and occasional potions, help some people, and pay her bills.

But no, she’d had to go and help people a little too well. Now it was Savior This and Savior That, all for breaking a measly curse and talking a witch queen off the ledge and reuniting her with her love.

She had been going about her life much as she had since she had accidentally teleported away from a crime scene (now that was a tale) where an ex had left her literally and figuratively holding the bag. Emma certainly hadn’t intended the escape she’d made, but she could hardly complain, either. And she’d been curious about how she’d done it, to put it mildly.

A lot of internet searches, the fortunate discovery of a coven that met for a weekly book club at her local library, and maybe-not-coincidental of the discovery of a talking kitten named Henry later, she knew what she was—a witch.

Fast forward a few years, and she’d found a home of sorts up in Storybrooke, and the three of them had opened a little shop selling various magicks and magical items.

To her surprise, Emma had found she gravitated toward light magic, especially of the healing variety, though she was good with technological stuff too. And Henry, once he was grown, was very helpful. He still occasionally knocked over things on her work table, which could be problematic—he was a cat, after all—but his advice was usually sound.

She really hadn’t intended to get drawn into anything more than her perfectly satisfactory life. But then Ruby, werewolf, customer, and sometimes friend, had asked her for help. Unless someone stopped it, there would be a curse enacted.

Regina, Queen of Misthaven, had come to power 28 years before, after deposing the previous queen and her husband, cursing them to eternal sleep. Eternal sleep was eternal in the way that vampires were immortal; it could be interrupted—by death or the rupture of the curse—but would continue until something came along and meddled.

It seemed that becoming queen and cursing her former rival wasn’t enough for Regina, though. Her unhappiness increased, compounded by her magical subjects’ dislike and the distance of the other S.P.B.C.C. members kept from her. She had decided to enact a spell to doom them, all her subjects, to go back in time and live lives of medieval drudgery.

Ruby had no interest in that. To begin with, her girlfriend wouldn’t approve, and she would miss the whole voting thing. Aside from that, saying goodbye to Netflix and electricity was just unacceptable. And Ruby was far from the only concerned party.

Emma was stumped. After all, what could she do? She’d known she was a witch for a decade, and stronger people than her had attempted to do something.

Most people trying to deal with the situation, though, hadn’t had the benefit of being raised non-magically.

Sure, magic could solve a lot of problems (and create them just as easily, but that wasn’t the point). But sometimes? The best solution was good, old-fashioned, and non-magical. In this case, it meant using her investigative skills to find a dragon that had been hiding from the magical world and who was supposedly powerful enough to help.

Well, it turned out that the dragon was an ex-girlfriend of Regina’s, and reuniting the two of them had done wonders. Regina backed down from evil world domination and had even been amenable to the equally non-magical suggestion of therapy.

Maybe there was something to the whole love thing after all.

Once Regina had thawed a bit due to Maleficent’s calming presence, she had tried to break the curse of eternal sleep she had put on Queen Snow and King David...all to no avail. The only spells capable of waking them required a blood relative—a living, breathing, and awake one—and both of them were the only ones left from their families, their only child having disappeared as a baby (another unfortunate result of one of Regina’s spells).

So imagine Emma’s surprise, when, as Regina was attempting show Emma one of the spells that wasn’t working, Henry jumped on her—Emma, not Regina—and clawed her.

She scolded him, not noticing right away that blood was welling up from the gash he’d left on her hand. She didn’t notice when the blood dripped right in the pathway of the spell Regina was casting, or how her eyes widened.

Regina noticed, though. They all noticed when this spell, instead of doing nothing like the previous attempts, woke up Snow and David.

And that was how Emma learned that she was their long-lost child, the missing child of the queen and king.

It had been awkward, to be sure. Finding family you didn’t know you had, accompanied by the weight of royal expectation, took a lot to adjust to. That was to say nothing of having parents who looked the same age as Emma and had last interacted with the world in the ‘80s. (There had been a shoulder pads intervention, fortunately.)

It was...hard. After a life lived on her own and having grown up in the foster care system, Emma wasn’t exactly one for opening up and sharing. But seeing how hard Snow and David were trying to reach out to her, she was willing to try to meet them halfway.

After some negotiating with her parents, they had worked out that in light of Regina’s resignation (and she swore a blood oath to live peaceably with Maleficent all her days, but the fact remained that it left an open S.P.B.C.C. seat), Emma would stand in at the council meetings. And she didn’t have to wear nearly as many poofy robes and old-fashioned witches’ hats as her mother had originally wanted.

Her mother had originally been offered the position, but she had turned it down, citing a desire to catch up on everything she’d missed. To her parents’ glee, Emma accepted the seat when it was offered to her in her mother’s stead. Not only did it give her a way to connect with them, it gave her parents time to connect with each other and the world again, as a lot had changed over the past thirty years. That was a lot of Netflix to binge.

Honestly, it wasn’t the worst. Some days, Emma even enjoyed her work with the Supernatural and Paranormal Beings and Creatures Council. She had put a lot into it, and eventually she’d been elected Speaker for the council, which was pretty miraculous given the tensions between witches/warlocks and vampires.

It hadn’t taken Emma long in the supernatural world to learn about the longstanding enmity between her people and the vampires.

If the non-magical world was to be believed, the real beef was between werewolves and vampires. (But maybe that was the issue—the werewolves were content with the beef, while most vampires didn’t care for cow blood or other byproducts.)

In reality, it was trickier. Sure, there were some tensions between werewolves and vampires—there were between most of the different supernatural and paranormal groups and species—but they mostly got along. In fact, they often played emissary between the vampires and witches, as they had common sociopolitical aims with both.

Emma shook her head—she didn’t have time to get side-tracked musing over her own damn life story and the history of a low-grade feud between magical beings right now. She had council business to attend to.

Council business that, unfortunately, included Killian Jones.

She scowled. That vampire had been a pain in her ass since the first whisper of him she’d heard. He was just...ugh.

On some level, she could accept that in the magical world, he had a right to be on the council as the one who had defeated Rumplestiltskin. The magical world had a convoluted law that boiled down to stating that anyone who defeated another supernatural being in combat could—and should—assume their posts and responsibilities. As an American, she was appalled. It was a lot to take in and reconcile.

And that was to say nothing of the man—or man-pire, as Angel would have said—himself. He didn’t want to be there, that was clear. He was obviously just there to avoid negative legal repercussions of having taken revenge on Rumplestiltskin (for what, Emma was fuzzy on the details). He didn’t much care for the other vampires or anyone else there.

Unfortunately, that made him one hell of a swing vote. He was unpredictable and didn’t follow traditional vampire allegiances, which made his presence on the council...interesting.

Not that she was interested.

She held in a sigh. The council was trying to get some work done on a law that would regulate different supplement vendors and how they could market to supernatural and magical beings, but they were running into all kinds of issues with the different vendors.

Truthfully, Emma found it incredibly dull, but something had to be done to break up the gridlock, and Jones was one of the most likely to be able to swing the vote. It galled her, especially when he couldn’t put on his professional pants and be the grown-up he was. God, he had to be at least 250, so couldn’t he act like it?

She motioned Granny Lucas over. They approached him where he stood talking to one of the faeries, and Emma cleared her throat.

He turned around and smiled. “I was hoping it would be you, luv.”

&&&

Gods, but it was so delightful and delightfully easy to rile Swan. The way her cheeks flushed and her fist clenched...it did things to him.

He was bad man. Or vampire, whatever.

Quite frankly, Killian couldn’t care less about the whether one clan of gnomes or another received the bid or contract to produce supplements. He wasn’t even sure that’s what this session was about, but he knew it was something of that sort. Probably.

Even if he had paid attention, it was worth it to rile Emma. He would say she was delicious, but that had connotations he didn’t intend. He didn’t want to drain her, for Christ’s sake.

There was just something about the reddening of her skin that had him wanting to bite her...just not in a vampire way.

He’d had lovers since Milah died. It had been over two centuries, after all, and he wasn’t a monk. While he’d treated them with the respect due to them as people (or faeries or witches, etc.), none of those relationships had been particularly lengthy or meaningful to him.

And if he could seduce Emma, he didn’t figure she would be either, even if she was a spitfire. Hell, she kept him plenty interested as it was, and he’d only ever seen her remove her jacket once. (It had been to punch one of his fellow fanged ones on the council, and he’d loved every moment of it.)

Whatever transpired, it would be fun.

&&&

“Is something funny, Hook? Are we entertaining enough for you?” Emma bit out.

She was tired. She wanted to go home and curl up in her chair, and have Henry come purr next to her. Or sass her and tell her to feed him, which was probably more likely. Either was better than this.

And then this asshole whose vote mattered had to be the way he was.

She knew he hadn’t listened to her. It wasn’t her fault the minutiae of supernatural government was boring, and 142 other people had done okay with listening.

He wasn’t an idiot. He had survived a long-ass time. As a pirate for most of it, no less. And he’d killed Rumple-fucking-stiltskin. So he had to have a brain in there.

Which meant that his lack of listening was due to boredom, even if he had started smiling during the last bit of her speech—a distant, predatory thing that she knew had nothing to do with supplements.

Her head was pounding. She couldn’t afford to have a loose cannon on the council; she needed him to be invested.

“Look, Jones, what’s it going to take to get you to give a fuck?” she asked, shoulders slumped.

Granny looked at her in surprise. Killian did too, eyes widening before he pasted his signature smirk onto his face.

That stupid side of his mouth quirked up, and he bit his lip in a way Emma knew he knew was lascivious. Bastard. “Depends, luv, on what you’re willing to give.”

Granny snorted and said, “Well, I’ll let you two work this out between you,” and walked away.

Traitor.

She forced herself to roll her eyes. “Nothing you’re implying, buddy.”

“Me? Implying things? Swan, I would never say anything that has a double meaning,” he said, after a very fake and dramatic gasp.

“That’s because they have triple meanings,” she muttered under her breath.

“Sorry, what?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

She smiled innocently at him, “I said, we need to discuss your leanings. For the council.”

He gave her a long, considering look. “Dinner. Invite me over for dinner—” at this, he picked up her hand, turned it over, and pressed a lingering kiss to her wrist, “—and we can discuss whatever you’d like.”

Ignoring the burning where his lips had touched her skin, she pulled her hand away. “Seriously?”

“As the supplement discussions, luv.”

“Fine. Come over at seven tomorrow. I’ll text you the directions,” Emma said, huffing.

He scratched behind his ear, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “I...I actually don’t have a cell phone.”

“Uh, okay. Do you have a...landline?”

“I do. And email,” he blurted.

She gave a sigh of relief. “Okay, I’ll email you the address later.”

Thank god she didn’t have to actually talk on the phone.