#can everyone tell i stare at wizard city backgrounds too much points at the way i do cobblestones on the wall

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

FRIENDLY FIRE ON IES ( @specialshinytrinkets) !!!!!!!!!! FIGHTS YOU

[bffhreprise]

Best Friend For Hire Reprise, 382

 “Slow down!” exclaimed Iris.  “Turn left just up ahead.”

 I nodded and complied.  She knew where her boss lived better than any of us, having never visited this suburb befored.  I probably would have missed the break in the endless fence had she not warned me, especially when I was trying to guess the cost of having a large amount of land next to a park in a pricey suburb.  To my surprise, the gate opened for us immediately.

 “He doesn’t care much for security, does he?” I teased, looking around to see if there was some sort of guard who would have opened the gate for us.

 “Mila watches everything, so there’s no need.  There are sensors and cameras all over the yard that let her know if anything is disturbed.” explained Iris matter-of-factly.

 I nodded, but my eyes were locked on our destination in the distance, barely visible through all of the rain.  I had considerably underestimated the size of this place.  I very much doubted that I could even afford to maintain the yard for very many years and could only guess that the property tax had to be immense.

 As my sons grew excited about the bushes, I looked over and stared for several seconds.  Every single bush along the long driveway had been carefully sculpted into characters that I recognized from video games my kids enjoyed.  I could only imagine the amount of time and number of people involved in such artwork, leading me to believe James spent even more on his yard annually than I originally had guessed.  Even the fountain—an immense, two-story affair that was very elaborately sculpted—was immaculate, showing no signs of wear or neglect.  James certainly knew how to make an impression.

 When we stepped inside, passing past two sets of double doors that opened for us, James was descending down one of the staircases which curved up to a balcony on the second floor.  “James!  Thank you for having us.  This is quite a place you’ve got here.  Sorry if we brought the storm.” I told him, gesturing to the weather outside.

 “There’s plenty to see.” he politely agreed.  “Thank you for accepting the invitation.  I thought you might be interested in seeing a little more about my company than most, since you seemed curious during the game.  Mick was supposed to stop by a while ago but apparently didn’t get the time.”

 “This place is awesome!” exclaimed Matt.

 “Sorry, James.” muttered Mick.

 “No need to apologize.  We’ll just review with your family today what I wanted to tell you before.” replied James, smiling at us.

 I suddenly found myself floating as a soft breeze blew at me from inside the mansion.  Looking to my sides, I saw that my family, save for my daughter, were also floating.

 Before I could do more than exclaim in surprise, James spoke up, telling us, “Magic is real, and your family can use it.”

 I stared at them, my mind trying to figure out how he was doing this.  Was this some elaborate prank using a new technology?  “Wh-What…” was all I managed to say before we were gently lowered to the ground.

 “You wanted to know what I was feeding my employees.  I train them physically, mentally, and in magical arts.  We didn’t use spells at the baseball game, but we have numerous advantages that are completely unfair.” explained James.  “For example, I can physically lift your family’s van, though using spells is easier to ensure I don’t compromise the frame.”

 I swore, feeling like I had been had, before my better judgement kicked in.  My family was currently at this boy’s mercy.

 James’ smile broadened as he said, “If you don’t mind coming out back, I’ll ask the wonderful gardener to demonstrate something people tend to grasp more easily.”  Not hearing any argument from us, he motioned for us to follow him and started telling us  “Mirabella and Mike can’t create the electrical discharges like the rest of you.  She has a different heritage, and Mike took after his mother.”

 “How could you possibly know that?” asked Mike in surprise.

 “My secretary ran a background check on Iris prior to her being hired, and she’s so thorough that I feel like she knows everything.  You wouldn’t believe how long she takes to brief me on things.” explained James as he glanced back at my son.  “My concern with Mick is that he and Iris tended to play games with their ability, which caught enough notice for my secretary to file it in the report.  There are some out there who prey on those with abilities such as yours, so being a little more cautious tends to be wise.”

 That sounded far too believable.  I probably should have chewed those two out more often, but I had never believed anyone would have noticed their antics.  “You claim you can lift cars, and you can obviously lift us.  What else can you do, James?” I asked, wanting a firmer handle on whom I was dealing with.

 “So many things, Dad.  James is like a wizard combined with an overly strong fighter from some fantasy novel.” insisted Iris from behind me.

 I glanced back at her, surprised at how serious she looked.

 “I’ve also learned to make a great cup of tea.  My wife can be picky.” insisted James.

 “What’s that smell..?” questioned Mike longingly.

 Now that he mentioned it, I didn’t recognize the smell either, though I was certain it was food.  My mouth was already watering.

 “We’re almost to the kitchen, and Marco’s making you quite the treat.  I’m sure he won’t mind us passing through.  Just be prepared for a few samples.” encouraged James.

 The kitchen was as large as was fitting a house this size, and even there the fanciful engravings didn’t yield.  Every cabinet was beautifully carved, as were the very large table and chairs.

 Marco, the chef, was extraordinarily eager for us to sample “a few things” before we moved onward, despite assuring us that dinner would be ready soon.  Only when James pointed out there was more for us to see before dinner did Marco give way, giving us permission to pass through his kitchen into the garden beyond.

 The rain didn’t reach us as we followed James outside, hitting some invisible barrier and sliding away.

 “I don’t suppose you worry about getting struck by lightning.” I commented as I watched the sky.

 “Worried, no, but I didn’t find that to be pleasant either.” he told me sincerely.

 I stared at him, my eyes searching for any sign that he had ever been struck, but I found nothing, save for how confident he seemed.  

 “If your magic were stronger, you’d actually be able to guide a lightning bolt around you.  Iris has practiced enough that she could knock an assailant down with just the shock.” he commented, making me glance back at my daughter.

 “You can?” questioned Mick excitedly.

 She nodded, grinned, and said, “Yep, though I could take you in a fight without one.”  

 “All trained up now, are you?” questioned Mark, my eldest son.

 Iris laughed, shaking her head.  “You wouldn’t believe the standards here.”

 “I take it that James is the strongest, being the boss.” suggested Mike.

 James shook his head and said, “Not even close.”  Then he pointed to a fortress in the distance and asked “Do you see the keep over there?”

 I nodded along with a couple of my sons.

 “The strongest best friend created that with a stray thought.” claimed James.

 “What!?  No way!” exclaimed Mike.

 Nodding, James said, “She showed up in my office to tell me that she ‘oopsed’ a second after.  She’s been training recently to avoid that type of mistake.  I imagine she’ll be capable of creating a large city in a day on a whim within a few years.  I’d probably spend at least a week on a small town, and that’s if I collected the resources ahead of time.”

 I found the idea mind-boggling.  James seemed humble as he claimed that he could create a small town in a week.

 “You’d take at least a month, man-sla-... er… boss?” announced Emma, turning the statement into a question at the end.  “You get too distracted.  I could handle a village in an hour!”  She was soaked, but grinning.

 Before my eyes, the water soaking her clothes drifted away to join the rain outside.

 “Emma, I’m sure you remember Iris’ father, Grayson.  This is her mother, Mirabella.  From oldest to youngest, her brothers are Mark, Mick, Mike, and Matt.  Everyone, this is my gardener, Emma.”

 “Shouldn’t I be your favorite gardener?” she asked teasingly.

 “Sure.” he conceded.

 “Hear that?  I’m his favorite!” she exclaimed proudly.

 “Do you create villages with a stray thought?” questioned Mike.

 “Nah.  I do this.” she replied, watching us all.  After a couple seconds, wooden buildings rose out of the ground between the garden and the keep.

 “Mine would have functional electricity, plumbing, and the other luxuries people expect these days.” argued James with a smile.

 She stuck her tongue out at him.  Then she said, “My plumbing would work if I created a water tower.  Plants can be very good at guiding water.  As for electricity, I’ve been talking with Jarod about ways to generate a current with plants.  We have plans and stuff!”

 “You mean he had a crazy idea and chatted your ear off.” suggested James.

 “I thought the idea was cool and agreed to try eventually!” she insisted.

 “The idea was actually Maxine’s.  She has some experience with bioengineering from when she considered creating a cyborg army.” corrected Mila, who had discretely joined us without me noticing.

 “You can create cyborgs!?’ questioned Matt excitedly.

 “There has been some tech created here which could be used toward that end, but we’re not experimenting on people.” explained James.

 “I didn’t know you were in the tech industry.” commented my wife.

 James smiled at her and diplomatically told her “My company dabbles in many things to help prepare our best friends for a very large variety of jobs.”

 Grinning, Emma said, “He means to say ‘Yes.  Yes, we are.’  Mua ha ha ha ha!”  She drummed her fingers together while obviously attempting to look like some comic book villain.

James sighed and said, “Emma, mind getting rid of your starter village and showing the Storms how you help the kitchen?”

 “Fiiiine,” she begrudgingly told him, “but I might use some buildings to compliment the topiary when I change things up again.”

 “Sounds fun.” he agreed.

 From there, she started demonstrating how she could make the plants grow, revert to seeds, or provide as much food as she wanted.  She could also force plants to grow beyond their normal proportions and control them as easily as she controlled her own limbs, which led her into demonstrating how she had produced the bats her team had used for our baseball game.  Before she seemed remotely ready to quit demonstrating her abilities, Mila announced that food was ready.

 Instead of eating at the long table in the kitchen, we were taken to a large dining hall with an even more elaborate table.  There were already carts of food waiting nearby, and Mila urged us to help ourselves, since no one here would hesitate when they arrived.

 As we ate, we were entertained with more demonstrations of magic from those who had joined us.  James’ wife, Alma, created elaborate displays of fire and ice.  Ai and Mai created a sort of play with tiny figures made of water acting out their parts just above the table.  Jemal fetched more food for the particularly hungry using nothing but his magic, causing whatever was requested to float through the air.  James himself demonstrated illusions, making us see whatever he wanted while assuring us the magic the others had used was real.  Whether because I had felt myself being lifted earlier or because he had no reason to lie, I believed him.  Iris’ boss was the most interesting, and perhaps the most dangerous, man I had ever met.

[dawniebb]

CANON IS AN ILLUSION PT. 2

If it doesn’t spark joy, throw it away.- Marie Kondo

So now that @healing-winston-pratt and I have explained how we got rid of ¼ of Supernova, let me tell you that it doesn’t stop here because you don’t mess with the type As when something gets into their heads.

For background, you can use this post as a masterlist because we don’t have one yet: https://healing-winston-pratt.tumblr.com/post/624723862884696064/well-this-is-the-last-piece-of-our-marathon

This is our post-Supernova canon divergence :) which, btw, it’s the one we’ll use from now on to create our content (actually, @healing-winston-pratt  already used it for her birthday drawings and I just stood there playing dumb pretending I didn’t have anything to do with it jssjjs). So, if you see that Callum and Winston are suddenly alive in our content or you find some of the things established in this list it’s because...yeah :)

Sooooo @novadreamer95438 and @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff you asked to be tagged if we uploaded more content about the canon divergence (Which we appreciate very much! thank you!) so here you go <3!

As mentioned before , Leroy starts living with his daughter Nova and Winston, in a house provided by the State (The Council hee hee).

Callum and Winston are (evidently) alive, but Genissa is dead.

Ace, Evander and Honey remain dead.

And this is where our canon continues uwu.

Leroy has to do community service for like...indefinite time :)

Winston, on the other hand, has two jobs. He works in an animal shelter, where he adopts a dog named Carnival bc wE CAN and also we want to quote this post :https://chiyuki-hiro.tumblr.com/post/621159663188180992/oh-no-a-head-canon  by @chiyuki-hiro (AFGSHFVDGB THAT HEADCANON IS G R E A T WE LOVE YOU) because we had come to an agreement that Winston would have an art therapy group for children but this addition is honestly so freaking wholesome :’))))))) <3

Nova has a temporary resignation from patrolling and starts going to therapy, where she is diagnosed with PTSD.

Nova also helps with the establishment of a new system, modifies the recruitment system and that stuff.

She’s not in the Team Sketch full time. Sometimes she’s in the offices, and at night she works with Callum.

And just like Narcissa, she digs her own grave :)

Thing is: Nova suggested that every time a new recruit arrived, the Council had DNA samples taken from them so they could check if they had any crime attached to them.

Now, by the end of Supernova in the canon universe we elected to ignore it is mentioned that Maggie sees Leroy staring at her in the distance, in a very suspicious way. Now, we don’t know about y’all, but we interpreted this as Leroy noticing Maggie looks like young Nova XD. So, this does happen in our canon, when Leroy is already out of prison.

By this time, DNA samples from Maggie and Nova have already been taken and uploaded to the system; and let’s say that Leroy gets very...concerned about the lookalike and decides to tell Winston, who confirms Maggie looks a lot like Nova X’DDD and so, they reach out to the Council to ask them to pls compare Maggie’s samples to Nova’s. U know, like angry mothers at the principal’s office :)

And so they do it just because they have nothing to lose.

And when the results arrive, everyone’s like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r92hykpvZRw

SO MAYBE, TO DOUBLE-CHECK, they compare Maggie’s DNA to DNA found in the crime scene (from David and Tala or maybe baby Maggie herself) and the results are still the same :).

Then, Winston and Leroy have to tell Nova and she reacts in the worst way possible for reasons I’ll explain in a fic I’ll be uploading soon cause’ I wrote it MONTHS ago.

Maggie doesn’t react much better tbh :)

But after a while, since this is, like, the right thing to do, Maggie starts living with them , but changes her name to Margaret Artino until she feels part of the family and is comfortable living there.

Because at first, Nova and her don’t get along and Maggie claims she fucking hates this house even though she knows is better than living in the streets.

They basically have a very chaotic home during the adaptation period until the girls start tolerating each other :) and even then, they’re still very chaotic bc it’s Winston, Leroy, Nova and Maggie we’re talking about :) :) :)

Not long after Maggie starts living with her big sis, Simon and Hugh ask Nova to join a family vacation and bring Maggie w/her.

Maggie doesn’t want to go, so Leroy and Winston go to Nova all like “If your sister doesn’t go, then you’re not going either” and Nova fucking loses it so she ends up begging/forcing Maggie to go :)

They go to the beach in MATCHING OUTFITS bc Simon said so (LIKE IN THE WIZARDS OF WAVERLY PLACE MOVIE) :) they take a lot of embarrassing pictures and Nova and Adrian are forced to go in the banana boat with Max and Maggie.

They fall and Nova and Adrian are acting as if they were in the Titanic while Max and Maggie are having the time of their lives lmao

BC NOVA ALSO NEEDS BONDING WITH THE IN-LAWS

At some point, too, Maggie adopts a stray cat whom she names Tofu, and he fucking hates Carnival even though Carnival is the cutest thing :’)

Winston, Leroy, Nova and Maggie celebrate birthdays every year bc they’re trying to compensate years of trauma.

And for that same reason (compensating years of trauma), Nova and Maggie take their sweet time to move out.

Actually, Adrian meticulously plans the date when he’s gonna propose to Nova, so he asks her to move with him exactly a year before that.

They live in an apartment for that whole year, he proposes and they start planning the wedding uwu.

Nova and Adrian have a non-religious ceremony, and since they’re fucking extra, Nova gets married in a black dress and Adrian in a white tuxedo bc miss Artino wanted a dress the same color as her soul :)

Leroy walks Nova down the aisle.

Ruby is Nova’s Maid of Honor and Oscar is Adrian’s Best Man.

Max and Maggie have the rings.

Tamaya’s youngest son is the flower child.

Which, talking about Tamaya, she fucking hates Leroy and Nova bc, honestly, we would hate them too. Leroy fucked up her face and Nova was part of the terrorist attack lmao

SO, YOU CAN IMAGINE HOW CHAOTIC THAT WEDDING WAS, bc they had to avoid leaving Tamaya and Leroy alone at all costs :)

She hugged Nova so violently when congratulating her, that she left a bruise in her shoulder :)

Basically she was there just because she loves Adrian even though she doesn’t approve his decision to marry Nova

Nova and Maggie maintain a close relationship even after Nova marries Adrian. Maggie and Max are included in every family vacation after the honeymoon ofc.

Nova and Maggie get matching tattoos uwu

Nova has the Big Dipper and Maggie has the Little Dipper.

As for the others. The ones who...are no longer there :’)

  @healing-winston-pratt and I have this headcanon that Evander’s wife (we named her Sandra) was expecting a baby at the time of the battle. They had already chosen a first name (Arthur), so she used Evander as his middle name, as the baby didn’t get to meet his dad.

Arthur Evander Wade.

Winston finally gives Evander his DS back.

The Council, thanks to Nova’s suggestion once again, limited a specific area around Georgia’s spot and called it The Aisle of The Fallen.

Genissa, Honey and the victims of the attack to the Arena,  the lift of the city and the battle of the Cathedral are there.

 Evander, however, is resting in Georgia’s mausoleum, next to her, because we think  that mausoleum was constructed in the first place so all the members of the Council could rest together once they left, meaning that they’ll all be there at some point in time. Unfortunately, Evander was the first one to join Georgia despite being the youngest.

Ace is not in the cemetery.

Nova left his helmet in the cathedral, but asked for his body to be cremated.

When she was a child, David used to tell her stories about how Ace seemed to be really happy back in Italy; how he had revolutionary ideas and wanted prodigies to be free; how he used to be a good brother that helped him survive.

So, a few months after Leroy was released from prison, she, Leroy, Winston, Hugh, Simon, Max and Adrian went to Italy with her, to spread Ace’s ashes so he could find peace in the only place he was ever sane and happy.

Ace Anarchy rests in his cathedral.

But what was left of Alec James Artino rests in Italy. (I have a fic about this too)

Yes we’re crying as we write this

[lonzobeans]

and many more

Kravitz does not have a birthday.

Obviously he had a birthday at some point, years and years ago, but he certainly doesn’t remember it anymore.  That’s just kind of what happens when you’re a. dead and b. the grim reaper for an extended period of time. The situation doesn’t lend itself particularly well to maintaining a steady social life, much less yearly celebrations with friends.  The Raven Queen is very nice, but she doesn’t really know what birthdays are. Kravitz isn’t completely sure if she was ever actually born. The metaphysics of Faerun is a somewhat headache-inducing situation.

He mentions all of this to Taako during a lull in the conversation one night, while the elf is draped idly across both his lap and the sofa in front of the television.  Taako is not an easy person to dumbfound — being a universe-hopping, planet-saving, wildly successful chef and wizard can do that to you — but this information absolutely blows him away.  Kravitz would gloat about it, but he’s too busy dealing with an immediate, rapid-fire line of questioning from his boyfriend: how old is he, exactly? (He’s not sure.)  Does he know what month his birthday was in?  (He doesn’t.)  Does he even remember the last time he had a birthday party? (He does not. He can’t even remember what he had for breakfast this morning. This is a lost cause.)  Taako speaks with his hands like he always does when he gets excited about things, punctuating each question with exclamations like “How did this happen, Krav?  How?!” and a few emphatic statements of “What the fuck!” as prestidigitated sparks shoot wildly from his fingertips.

Once Kravitz has reassured his boyfriend that yes, he did have an actual birthday at one point and no, he didn’t spring fully-fledged from the brain of the Raven Queen when he was born (“Sweetie, what the hell?”), Taako reclines back down into his lap and hums thoughtfully to himself.  He runs a finger absently through Kravitz’s hair out of habit.  It sends a few wayward sparks fizzing gently about the reaper’s ears.

Then Taako excuses himself rather abruptly by launching his entire body up and over the back of the sofa with a wholly unnecessary levitation spell, startling both Kravitz and their cats in the process.  After a solemn apology to James Buffett Jr. and Stinky Fur Man, Taako waves his stone of farspeech wildly around his head and declares that he needs to take a call (“Do you mean make a call, darling?”  “I never make calls, I only take them.”).  He then departs the room with a flourish, after tilting Kravitz’s head back for a lingering kiss that leaves the reaper feeling more than a little light-headed.

Taako is gone for several minutes.  Kravitz becomes preoccupied with staring very hard at the wallpaper and trying to remember how old he actually is. He is unsuccessful. He develops a very bad headache in the process.

When Taako finally returns, he throws himself dramatically back onto the couch (and into Kravitz’s lap), and declares, “Alright babe, you’re gonna share mine.”

And Kravitz says “What?” because it’s been ten minutes, he has a headache, and Taako is pretty to the point of being very distracting.

The elf tucks the stone of farspeech back beneath the collar of his shirt and snaps his fingers (which forces Kravitz to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing strip of skin at the curve of his boyfriend’s collarbone).  “You’re gonna share my birthday.  I went and talked to Lulu about it, and she says it’s fine.  She’s excited about it, actually,  even though I don’t think she’ll ever let me live this one down.”  He sighs dramatically.  “Ch’boy always used to complain about having to share a birthday back when we were kids, and now here I am asking her for a plus one.  The things I do for love.”  Taako pauses and then squints up at his boyfriend.  “Krav.  You doin’ alright up there?  You’ve been kinda quiet.”

Kravitz is experiencing a very large number of emotions in a very small period of time.

He recognizes excitement almost immediately — if there’s one thing that he remembers about birthdays, it’s that they’re a lot of fun.  And now he gets to experience his with the people he loves most in the world.  The thought of spending a day surrounded by Taako’s endearing grandstanding and Lup’s infectious laughter sends warmth whispering through his silent veins.

There’s also a little bit of fear, because he was at the twin’s last birthday and so he knows exactly what can happen at their parties.  And if he and Lucretia have to explain to the authorities why the entire city of New Phandalin levitated into the air for exactly twenty-six minutes again, then he is absolutely going to come back to life just so he can die again.  

But for some reason, he also feels sad.  

He hasn’t thought about things like this, like birthdays and balloons and parties, for years.  It’s just been him and his job, alone except for the distant lights floating in the never-ending expanse of the astral plane, for as long as he can remember.  The Raven Queen used to gently encourage him to try going out and meeting new people, but all of her well-meaning attempts had steadily diminished over the years as he’d continued to rebuff her suggestions.

Kravitz’s greatest fear has always been this: if he lets himself get tangled back up in the world of the living, the weight of all the things that he failed to do before joining the Raven Queen’s retinue will eventually crush him.  

For far too many years to count, he’d refused to let himself believe that there might be any option besides cutting himself off from the material plane entirely.  But now this beautiful, lovable elf, who is too loud and too brash and too proud sometimes (and who he loves more than life itself), has taken him by the hands and pulled him headfirst into something he hadn’t even let himself realize he’d missed.

He can feel a strange wetness gathering behind his eyes; a sensation that feels comfortingly familiar, yet still somewhat alien after all the years that time has spent moving steadily on without him.

Taako sits up and puts his arms around Kravitz and just holds him silently for a while.  He gets it.  Both of them do.  Loneliness leaves scars that re-open at the strangest times.

They stay like that until Kravitz finally lifts his face from where it’s buried in Taako’s shoulder, and James Buffet Jr. takes the opportunity to hop up onto his lap and curl into his arms to make sure he’s okay.  Then they sit together on the sofa as the television drones gently on in the background and talk about plans for their next birthday: about how great it’s going to be, about how Merle is not allowed near the flower arrangements, about how Barry is absolutely not allowed to raise any members of the fantasy Beatles from the dead to perform.  Eventually, the few wayward tears give way to laughter instead.

Their next birthday is legendary.

The moon is directly overhead and also on fire for the better part of thirty-five minutes. An entire building in Rockport gets transmuted into a fourteen-layer birthday cake. The Raven Queen shows up — making several individuals in attendance nearly pass out in fear — in order to wish everyone a happy birthday, and also to figure out what exactly a birthday actually is. She walks around arm in arm with Istus, who brings everyone hand-knitted sweaters as presents.  All of the clergymen in the nearby vicinity collectively shit themselves in amazement.

After the festivities are all over and everyone has returned to their respective homes, Kravitz and Taako find themselves back on their sofa, with the radio in the background reporting softly on the ridiculously ostentatious display of fireworks that had lit up the skies over Neverwinter that evening.

“How was your very first birthday à la Taako, cupcake?”  Taako asks Kravitz as the latter flops down onto his lap.  “Actually quick side note, we definitely have to figure out how old your ass actually is at some point.  Not that it’d make much of a difference, since you’ve got the whole spooky scary skeleton thing going on at work most of the time, but I want to see the look on people’s faces when I tell them that my boyfriend is over six hundred years old.”

“That’s an adventure for another time, I think.”  A smile creeps across Kravitz’s lips.  “Lucretia just finished putting out the moon. I don’t think Faerun can take any more excitement in one night.”

“Boring, but fair.” Taako sighs in mock disappointment.  “That leaves yours truly with the responsibility of ‘final surprise of the night’, then.”  He snaps his fingers and a perfectly wrapped package materializes in the palm of his hand, accompanied by a glittery puff of magical confetti.  “Ta-da!  Faerun’s favorite wizard does it again.”

Kravitz clears his throat.  “Not to one-up Faerun’s favorite wizard, but...” he trails off as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, clumsily wrapped package.

Taako puts a hand over his heart and pretends to fan himself in shock.  “Betrayal!  Upstaged by the love of my life!  I’ll let it slide it this time, Krav, but next time...”  He continues his mock tirade as he lifts the gift out of Kravitz’s hands and leans forward to press a kiss to the side of his jaw.  “Next time I’m talking dozens of major images, plus a Taako original dance number!  Me, popping out of a chocolate fountain, dressed in lingerie that is not from Fantasy Costco! Just you wait.”  

Kravitz raises an eyebrow and manages to keep a straight face.  “Consider me warned,” he says, as Taako begins unwrapping the package.  Kravitz’s fingers move toward his own gift, but he pauses and watches with bated breath as his boyfriend tears off the final layer of wrapping paper.

Taako lifts the lid off of a tiny brown box and peers inside.  Even Faerun’s favorite wizard can’t manage to keep the shock off of his face.

“It’s not a... this isn’t a proposal,” Kravitz says quickly.  “We don’t have to... you know, do anything in the near future, if you don’t want to, it’s just sort of... it’s a promise?  Since we talked about it, and I—”

Taako uses one hand to take the ring out of the box and the other to press a finger to Kravitz’s lips.  “Yes.  Yes, of course, you gigantic nerd.  I love it.  I love you.”

Kravitz scoops Taako up into a wordless hug, spinning him around while simultaneously trying to land kisses wherever he can reach, smiling as the elf lets out a peal of laughter.

“So the way I see it, we’ve got two options.”  Taako wraps his arms around Kravitz’s neck as the reaper sets him back down onto the ground.  “Option one: we get hitched next Tuesday.  We invite everyone.  We party, ride off into the sunset, and then bang.  Easy peasy.”  A mischievous smile spreads across the elf’s face.  “Or, option two: we play the long game.”

Kravitz’s grin maches Taako’s.  “An extended engagement, then?”  

“Lup and Barold refused to admit that they even liked each other for years.  It was torture.”  Taako rolls his eyes.  “But we’ve got all the time in the world, hot stuff!  So let’s drag this out.  Be as lovey-dovey as possible.  Really make ‘em wait for it.”

Kravitz laughs.  “But... not for too long,” he says, reaching up to rest his palm against his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Not for too long,” Taako agrees.

[gold-from-straw]

Nightmares - DGHDA SpookFest

For prompt 33, nightmares. Dirk Gently/Todd Brotzman. T rating

Some graphic depictions of violence, canon typical gore (including pararibulitis attacks), Priest being an utter arsehole as usual, and insulting someone’s gender orientation... so warnings for Transphobia. Also swearing, I mean, my entire existence should come with a swear rating, my bad...

Quinn ran, their heart pounding in their chest, lungs burning and mind almost overloading with terror. They stumbled around another corner, bumped into someone who fell to the ground instantly, the ground around them writhing with snakes. Quinn whimpered and ran some more. Their own worst nightmare was coming for them, his gun at the ready and a smile on his face.

***

“…and then this person said they were attacked by rubber chickens in the grocery store—“

“Rubber chickens?”

“Yes, they—“

“In the grocery store?”

“Yes, Todd, do keep up. They said, and I quote, that they squawked threateningly and their dead rubber eyes stared deep into their soul.”

Todd gave up and doubled up laughing. “What are these guys on?”

Dirk tried to look prim and aloof but he could see the bastard’s lips twitching. “As far as we know they aren’t on anything. This spate of weird hallucinations is spreading across the city and it’s brilliant, Todd, we needed a new case, I’ve been so bored.”

“So the universe is giving you rubber chickens?”

“Not just rubber chickens. Dinosaurs and quicksand and jack’o’lanterns and—“

“Lions and tigers and bears, oh my?”

He stopped, his eyes going wide. Todd bit his lip to resist the pull of those eyes, before sucked him in to their orbit. “How did you know? Have you been getting visions like Amanda?”

“No, it’s… a movie reference, never mind. So what do we do?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” he said, and nobody should be that happy about their own ignorance, it was obscene. “I think we should walk around Seattle and see where the universe takes us.”

The universe, as it happened, took them to the park, along the avenue of trees scattering damp autumn leaves, and to a little coffee shop where Dirk ordered something utterly disgusting with at least three different syrups. Todd watched him stroll along with his happy smile and stomped on the little voice whispering ‘this is just like a date’.

It was not a date. As they turned a corner, Dirk suddenly gasped and raced off down an alleyway without warning. Todd was not impressed about running on a full stomach. He could feel that coffee sloshing around as he tried to catch up with Dirk’s ridiculously long legs, honestly, someone who fell over his own feet so often should not be able to run that fast.

He was breathing hard before he found him again, shoving his way through a small crowd of skaters.

“Push it with your board, man, don’t touch it.”

“Woah, did you see that? Are you fucking getting this, man? The board went right through it!”

“What the hell?”

“Rezza, don’t touch it, Jesus!”

“Chill, it’s like a hologram or something, look!”

Todd elbowed forwards, ducking his head low and grimly thinking there were at least some advantages to being chest height to everyone else. “Holy shit,” he muttered, as he got to the centre.

There was a young man lying on the road, writhing and crying out, his head twitching from side to side like he was having a bad dream. And all around him, crawling over his chest and legs, were hundreds of snakes.

Dirk bent down right next to the man. The skaters were torn between cheering him on and warning him to be careful. At least three of them were filming. Dirk reached forward to shake the man’s shoulder, and put his hand right through a huge hooded cobra. “Excuse me,” he said, tapping him on the chest. “Hello, will you wake up?” He poked him gingerly. “Hey!” he yelled, and the poor man sat bolt upright, breathing hard and sweating.

“What the hell? What the… the snakes? Where are they, there were… they were everywhere, oh God.” He shuddered and stared at his hands, but the snakes really were gone, vanished like mist the moment he’d woken up.

Dirk patted him with the very tips of his fingers. “There, there. You seem to have been manifesting your dreams. Does this happen often?”

“Man, it was sick! You have to see this,” one of the skaters laughed, and held out his phone.

The dreamer looked at the video and screamed, skittering backwards onto someone’s feet. “What the fuck? That was… there were snakes all… oh my God oh my God, I’m gonna be sick, I’m gonna… the fuck is going on, I just…”

“Hey,” snapped Todd, forcing his way forward and grabbing the guy’s shoulders. “Stop that now, you’re here. You’re awake, the snakes are gone. They weren’t solid, they were… I don’t know, like some…”

“Manifestation of an unintentional astral projection,” Dirk added helpfully.

“—yeah maybe. Whatever. But you’re safe, you hear?”

The man nodded, still trembling. “What’s your name?” Todd asked.

“Wikus.”

Todd nodded firmly and held out his hand to help the guy up. “I’m Todd Brotzman, this is my par… uh, this is Dirk Gently. He does… weird shit.”

“I’m a holistic detective, as my so-called assistant is failing to tell you. Hi.” Dirk held out his hand to shake and started interrogating Wikus, or telling him his life story, or something. Either way, nobody noticed that Todd had very nearly called him his partner which was just… something to be shoved down into a corner of his imagination where it meant something very different and never see the light of day again.

“—and Farah will take your details. Come on, Todd, you’ll be left behind one of these days!”

He snorted. “As if you’d remember your way back to the office without me.”

“The universe would take me there,” he sniffed. Todd just smirked and shook his head, and led the way.

***

Quinn collapsed in a doorway and tried to sit upright, but their body was shaking too much. They slumped against the frame and curled up tight. A wave of despair swept over them. They were never going to be free. He was going to chase them forever, no matter how hard they ran he’d be around the next corner with a gleeful laugh and an army on his side. Quinn was just so tired, but going back there was a fate worse than death.

***

“So, nightmares, huh?” Amanda said, swinging her feet where she sat on Farah’s desk. Todd figured she was the only person in the world Farah would allow to sit on her perfectly ordered desk.

Dirk nodded. “Yes, this is the seventh manifested nightmare we’ve found in the last three days, isn’t it brilliant?”

“Yeah, when he says found, what he means is I found references to six of them on youtube and twitter,” Farah pointed out, waving her pen in his direction.

“Exactly, you found six and Todd and I found one, therefore we found seven. See? I can do maths, Farah, and you said it was atrocious.”

Farah rolled her eyes and turned back to the computer. Amanda grinned and offered her a cookie which she’d stolen from the cupboard anyway, so it was probably Farah’s cookie. “What’s causing it? Any ideas?”

“Aliens.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Todd, it’s never aliens.”

“It’s only a matter of time, I mean, we’ve had alternate dimensions, shapeshifters, actual wizards, at least three cults and one surprisingly boring series of robberies.”

“Really? How did you end up with that case?”

“They only stole worthless trinkets. Dirk thought it might have been a creature that fed off nostalgia or something, but it was a young guy with a form of kleptomania. Kinda sad, really.”

“I thought he was an empath, not a nostalgia-eater” Dirk protested.

“You said, and I quote, ‘he’s some sort of sentiment vampire, I’ll bet you anything, Todd.’ Speaking of which, you still owe me dinner.”

“Do not let him cook,” said Farah without looking up from the computer.

“Did you just do the British accent again?” Dirk said in delight.

“No…”

“You did. Oh, do it again, please.”

“Shut up!” he covered his red face, furious with himself.

“Guys, come look at this,” Farah called, and Todd grabbed at the opportunity with both hands. He scrambled round to stand behind her chair, joined by Dirk and Amanda.

It was a YouTube video. Todd recognised the area they’d been that day, the skaters taking shaky footage of each other trying out a new trick. He immediately tried to see if he could spot Wikus in the background, but they spotted the person running first.

It was over in seconds. There was a figure racing down the street, turning to look the way they’d come, and then stumbling and running on again. They were almost out of shot when they crashed into Wikus. It was barely even a brush of shoulders, but Wikus dropped like a stone. The skater taking the video was too busy focusing on the snakes that were forming out of thin air around the sleeping man to turn the video back on the runner, or on whatever they were running from.

“Can you pause it and try and get a look at the runner?” Todd said, squinting at the screen.

Farah rolled her eyes. “No, Captain Obvious, because I’ve already downloaded it. We can look at a frame by frame here.” She opened another app and the video appeared as a series of ten second clips.

“Do you ever wonder what your role is in this business?” Amanda asked him sweetly. He glared at her.

“Todd’s my assistant,” said Dirk, and his horrified expression was deeply gratifying. “He’s irreplaceable.”

“If you say so,” Amanda grinned.

Todd tried not to gaze at Dirk like a lovestruck puppy but, damn, it was hard. Now if only he could get up the nerve to tell Dirk he was equally irreplaceable to Todd, just… for a really different reason.

“I can’t get a better view of this guy,” said Farah, squinting at the screen. The person ran, frame by frame, speed blurring all his features. They turned to look behind them, and Dirk gasped and stepped back.

“What, what is it? You recognise this guy?”

“Morpheus,” he whispered.

“Who’s Morpheus?” Farah said. “The… the Greek god of dreams, but… oh… Greek mythology.” She looked from Dirk to the screen and back. “Shit.”

Dirk was backed right up against the wall, his face pale and his eyes that horrible blank mask. Todd had seen that too much back in Bergsberg. He reached out to squeeze his arm. “Blackwing?”

Dirk nodded, a tiny, jerky movement. His big eyes were looking suspiciously wet, and Todd grabbed his other hand, pulling him around to face him. “Hey, you’re OK. You’re safe. We’re here, and we’re never letting you go again, you hear?”

He nodded, and Todd wasn’t sure if his lower lip really trembled like that or if it was just the movement of his whole head, but he wanted to wrap him up tight in his arms and never let him feel this fear again.

Dirk took a deep breath and stepped back towards the screen. “M-Morpheus arrived a few years after I did… around the same time as the Rowdies and… and they used to make them feed on either them or me, or… or—“

“Them?” interjected Farah. “How many were in Project Morpheus?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, singular them. Morpheus is non-binary.”

“And their power was, what, making people hallucinate?”

“Not exactly… they could pull your worst nightmares forwards. I used to… they had to do it to me,” he said, his eyes falling shut and shuddering. “I didn’t recognise it today because… because the nightmares never used to appear to anyone else, like those snakes did. They just touched you, and you fell asleep, into the worst… the worst dreams you’d ever had.”

Todd’s hands itched with the need to touch him, comfort him. When Amanda slipped off the desk and wrapped her arms around his waist, he was torn between grateful that she was giving him the comfort that Todd was too cowardly to provide, and angry with himself that he couldn’t put this stupid crush aside and just give Dirk what he needed. He turned back to the screen, clenching his fist and looking at the picture, memorising the face of yet another person who’d hurt Dirk, another person Todd would hate forever.

But as he looked at the young person on the screen, he found it difficult to keep the same level of anger. They were frozen mid-step, their head twisted to stare behind them, a look of utter panic and despair on their face. It was hard to hate someone who looked so much like Dirk had back in Bergsberg.

“They look like they’re being chased,” said Farah softly.

Dirk nodded. “The fear always made their powers worse.”

“So you’re saying they’ve got stronger since you knew them?” Amanda said.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if they got out of Blackwing back when I escaped, I know not all of us did. If they’d been stuck there, if Riggins…” He swallowed. “If they found something that worked…”

“You think they’ve found some way to increase their powers?”

“To weaponise them,” Farah murmured. “Shit.”

“Look, maybe not,” Amanda said, rubbing Dirk’s back. Todd could see his muscles trembling, just ever so slightly. “Maybe Morpheus figured it out themselves.”

Dirk took a deep breath and pursed his lips. “We’ve got to help them.”

***

Amanda walked back with Todd and Dirk, claiming it was Todd’s turn to let her use his shower. Todd grumbled and pretended that having her back in his life wasn’t the best thing that had ever happened to him. She also made Dirk smile, just another reason he wanted to fall on his knees in gratitude to his little sister.

“Don’t let Morpheus get close to you, Todd,” she said, with a wicked grin.

“Amanda,” he growled, narrowing his eyes at her.

She laughed and tucked her arm into Dirk’s. “Do you wanna guess what Todd’s worst nightmare was? When we were kids?”

Dirk turned great pools of sorrow onto Todd. “Oh no! Was it terrible, Todd?”

Todd blushed and turned away, unable to bear the siren call of that sweet, kind face. “Don’t listen to her, she’s an idiot.”

Amanda snorted. “I’m not the one who was terrified of little white ponies.”

Dirk’s forehead crinkled as he stared down at her, and even under his mortification Todd thought it was adorable. “White ponies?”

“Amanda, oh my god!”

“How many times did you have that dream?” She asked, her voice rich with delight at his humiliation. She looked up at Dirk in glee. “It was about the same time I was playing with My Little Ponies, he must have been at least fourteen. He woke up screaming one night because - and I quote - ‘the ponies are trying to eat me!’” She threw her head back and laughed. “He had that dream night after night, I had to put my ponies in the wardrobe any time I wasn’t playing with them or he’d shudder when he saw them!”

“They had teeth!” he yelled, his face burning. “They were vicious little… dog sized creatures with sharp freaking teeth - and horses do actually eat meat, by the way. They… they chased me up a tree every damn night and circled me and - oh shut up!”

Amanda was nearly doubled over laughing. “Promise me you’ll take a video if Todd gets knocked over by Morpheus, I need blackmail material.”

Todd groaned and rolled his eyes.

“I’m afraid I’ll probably have other things on my mind, but I appreciate the warning about the white ponies,” Dirk said, humour colouring his voice.

Todd shook his head, but it occurred to him that his stupid pony nightmare would be preferable to anything that would manifest if Morpheus got to Dirk.

***

Quinn took a long, shuddering breath and wrapped their hands around a warm styrofoam cup. They were safe, just for now. They’d sent him down a false trail, and if they were lucky it would be hours before he realised… maybe even a day or two. And Quinn had a plan. It meant… it meant doing to themself what they did but… the end justified the means. They needed to get stronger. They needed to stop relying on touch because Priest would never let Quinn get close enough… they needed to stretch the powers. Quinn’s stomach roiled, rebelling against the fear and phantom pains, but this was the only way. They had to save themself, because nobody else was going to.

***

It was midnight. Amanda had stumbled out the front door, yawning, at least an hour earlier, but Dirk was still on Todd’s sofa, chattering, waving his hands, and as bright eyed as he had been at 8 o’clock that morning.

Todd rubbed his gritty eyes and stifled a yawn, blinking at Dirk’s flushed face. “...and there was this absolutely brilliant double rainbow, stretching right over the Atlantic, and did you know, Todd, I could see both ends of it in the sea - do you think if I took a plane over the top of it I’d be able to see a whole circle? Wouldn’t that be amazing, a rainbow ring? A double ring because it was a double rainbow, ooh, that would be the best thing—“

“Dirk,” he huffed. “Aren’t you… I don’t know, aren’t you tired?”

He stopped, his mouth open and half way through a word. “I’m… no. No, I’m perfectly awake, Todd, I really don’t know how you can sleep at a time like this, honestly, it’s all so exciting! Did I tell you about-“

Todd groaned and slumped lower onto the sofa. “Dirk, I’m tired! I want to go to sleep, look… do you want to just watch TV? I’m gonna fall asleep right here if I don’t go to bed!”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.”

He sounded small. He sounded like he’d been shut down, like all that brightness and enthusiasm had been wiped away like condensation on a mirror, and all that was left was a sharp, stark… exhaustion.

Todd opened his eyes properly and sat up.

“I’ll head back to my own flat, thank you for dinner, Todd, it was lovely.”

Todd frowned as Dirk stood up, smiling brightly and fussing with his jacket. He focused properly on the curve of his shoulders, the tension in the lines of his face, the shadows under his eyes, and he grabbed the sleeve of his jacket as he slipped his arms in. “Do you… you can stay here, if you like,” he said softly. “If you don’t want to be alone.”

Dirk exhaled shakily, his eyes going distant and staring through the carpet into the past. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not good enough,” he said. “Come here.” He pulled him around to the sofa, shoved him down again and twitched a fleecy blanket off the back of the armchair. “Lie down, Dirk, c’mon.”

“You really don’t have to, Todd, you’re absolutely right, it’s time for bed and—“

“Dirk, shut up and lie down. And next time you don’t want to be alone, just tell me, OK?”

Dirk curled up on his side, stiff and wide eyed. Todd nodded firmly, draping the blanket over him. “‘Night. Sleep well.”

“Thank you,” he said, very quietly.

***

They found somewhere to sleep, an old warehouse, red brick crumbling and weeds growing up through the cracks in the tarmac. It was almost painfully cold out in the autumn wind, Halloween just around the corner, but Quinn had a thick sleeping bag and a pack of marshmallows, stolen from a camping store. It was almost pleasant, almost like an adventure. That’s what they told themself, a distraction from what they’d have to do to peel their powers out, stretch them like elastic. Make themself into the weapon they’d been resisting for so long. Make themself into the monster they’d sworn never to become.

They had no choice.

***

He wasn’t sure what woke him. It wasn’t a cry, it wasn’t a dream of his own, but he woke, eyes wide and clear, fixed on the red 3:58 of his digital clock. He lay still for a moment, trying to work out what had pulled him from sleep so perfectly.

For a while there was nothing. He closed his eyes again and tried to settle back to sleep, and there it was. The slightest, shuddering breath, the slightest shifting of tense muscles.

Before he could rationalise it to himself, before he could shake his head and brush it off, he was standing, bare feet cold against the floorboards, and pushing his door open to the sitting room.

Dirk lay still under the covers, a beam of moonlight casting silver accents over his red hair. He wasn’t moving at all, and in the end, that’s what was suspicious. Because he was so still he might not even be breathing, so curled up tight when he’d seen him loose and slack in sleep the last time he’d passed out on the couch after a long case.

He shuffled forward, his body not quite responding right, but his mind sharp and present as he crouched down. Dirk’s forehead was lined, his brows crunched into a deep frown, his plush lips in a worried pout, his fingers clenching and unclenching. As Todd watched he whimpered, just slightly, and pressed himself backwards, curling up into a terrified, solid little ball.

“Dirk,” he said softly, his heart aching. Dirk should never be so small and afraid, hiding behind silence and stillness.

“Please,” Dirk whispered, just a breath barely even a sound. “No, please, I’m trying, I’ll be… I’ll be good.”

“Dirk, wake up!” Todd said, a little louder. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to scare him, but how could he leave him so scared? This wasn’t right, how dare anyone scare Dirk like this? How could they?

“Please,” he whimpered, and Todd couldn’t bear it. He sank his fingers into Dirk’s hair, rubbing gently, whispering meaningless reassurances, trying to call him back.

“You’re OK, Dirk,” he said right into his ear, softly and firmly. “I’m here, OK, it’s nobody else, just me. I’m not gonna let them get you, I’m here. You’ll be OK, baby, you hear? I’ll keep you safe, just come back, OK? You’re not back there, you’re safe. He pressed his forehead to Dirk’s temple, wishing he could help, wishing he could protect him from everything in his past.

“Todd,” Dirk whispered, his fingers finding their way around Todd’s wrist. “My Todd.”

“Yeah, I’m yours, it’s OK, sweetheart.” He felt a rush of self-loathing. How dare he? Calling him stupid pet names, touching him like this while he was sleeping, when he couldn’t push him away. He told himself it was just to make Dirk feel better, just to help him through the nightmare, that Amanda and Farah would do exactly the same for him, but that was different, wasn’t it? Because they’d do the same for Dirk while he was awake. They didn’t hold him at arms’ length because all they felt for him was pure, uncomplicated affection, not this… this overblown worship! This complete obsession that if anyone knew about it they’d be horrified, push him away for being too much, too clingy.

But he brushed Dirk’s hair back, and stroked his cheek, and rubbed his hands where they held his wrist, because now he’d started, he couldn’t bear to stop.

“Todd,” he sighed. “Feels nice.” He nuzzled into Todd’s hands as he rubbed the back of his neck, his thumb brushing over his cheekbones. Todd squeezed his eyes shut, guilty and as always, not guilty enough to pull away.

But he’d learned, hadn’t he? He was better than this - he was trying, for Amanda’s sake, for Farah and mostly for Dirk, he was trying to be a better person. Dirk was breathing evenly, he’d come out of the nightmare, and Todd couldn’t justify touching him any more, he was just being creepy and an asshole. He stood up, his hands sliding gently out of Dirk’s hair.

“Don’t go,” Dirk whined, and to Todd’s horror one eye opened, looking right up at him.

“I’m… shit, I’m sorry, Dirk, I didn’t… I just… you were having a bad dream and I…”

“I know,” he said with a sleepy smile. “Thank you.”

Todd felt his face flush. “Well… if you’re… I’m glad. I’ll just be going—“

“Please stay,” he whispered, and Todd felt his heart ache.

“Sure,” he said with a crooked smile. He could handle the dull ache, he could handle being too close if Dirk wanted him there, he could… shit, that really did hurt.

“Pills,” he croaked, as the muscles between his ribs clenched in threat. “I need--”

“Oh, shit,” Dirk said, tumbling off the sofa and grabbing for the yellow jacket discarded on the floor. He was muttering platitudes, reassurances, but Todd didn’t hear, because he pulled up his shirt and saw the flesh tearing away from his bones, blood soaking his pyjamas, something fluttering beneath and someone was screaming, it hurt, it hurt so much and there was a bitter taste, a swallow…

He slumped sideways onto Dirk’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dirk whispered, and Todd realised he had his arms wrapped around him, hands shaking. “I’m so sorry, if I hadn’t woken you up and shocked you and--”

“Hey, no, that’s not how it works, man,” he said. “Or… well, we’re not sure… but anyway, it just is what it is, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dirk said anyway.

Todd rolled his eyes. “Come on, you idiot,” he grumbled. It was the safest way for his heart, being grumpy when he wanted to be safe. Some kinds of hurt were worse than others. He wriggled back and lay on his side on the couch, jerking his head at Dirk. “Lie down and go to sleep, otherwise we’ll never wake up tomorrow.”

Dirk hesitated, his mouth opening and closing, his eyes big and sad, and Todd wished he could be a better person, comfort him instead of pushing him around. But he never had been a nice person, not really, and he wasn’t going to pretend again. He grabbed Dirk’s collar and yanked him down, shoving him in place and draping the blanket over both of them.

For just a moment he indulged a wish, a silly fantasy. It was harmless. He imagined that this was their everyday. That he didn’t have to drag Dirk down to lie next to him, that Dirk snuggled into bed with him rather than this spur of the moment thing on the sofa. That Dirk wanted to lie next to him for more than just comfort from nightmares.

He pushed it away, and lay on his hands, keeping them to himself.

***

They weren’t ready. It wasn’t quite THERE yet, they needed more time but he wouldn’t wait. It was like he knew what Quinn was doing, how close they were and they couldn’t… they just couldn’t bear it, they’d die, they’d do anything to be free of that hell. Quinn stood, every muscle shaking, exhausted and terrified and so, so angry, and they ran.

***

Todd closed his eyes and hunched over his black coffee in bliss. Coffee was his one true love. Coffee didn’t judge him, didn’t mind what a grumpy shit he was - in fact, coffee probably appreciated his moods because it made him want coffee more.

“Yes, Todd, we know you love coffee,” Amanda snorted, kicking him in the ankle. “But we don’t need to see you make love to it in the diner.”

Todd held up his middle finger and drank, his eyes still shut. Beside him, just a little too close for Todd’s sanity, Dirk was eating waffles, swimming in disgusting quantities of maple syrup. He was squirming as he talked, and Todd wasn’t sure if it was a sugar high or just Dirk’s natural twitchy self.

He wiped the smile off his face. He was not adorable. Wriggly people were annoying, all of them, they definitely had always annoyed Todd, and Dirk was no exception. Even if he was also unbearably cute - no. Nope. Not the time.

“Come on,” Farah said, nudging Amanda. “We’ve got a lead on the nightmares up near Queen Anne. You said the Rowdies might be able to catch Morpheus’ scent?”

“Yep, let’s do it. You in?” She asked Todd and Dirk, pushing herself to her feet and sliding out of the booth.

“Uh…” said Dirk.

“We’ll pass,” Todd said wryly. Dirk smiled at him gratefully.

“You know the boys won’t feed off you, right?” Amanda said gently.

“I… yes… but…”

“It’s alright,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Later asshole,” she added, middle finger up again. Todd returned it.

“Ready to go feel the pull of the universe, or whatever?” He asked.

He nodded, his cheeks dimpling, and licked the last of the maple syrup off his fork. Todd looked away quickly.

***

He was close. Quinn’s lungs burned, their muscles ached, and if they hadn’t been so exhausted and dehydrated they’d have wept.

Their legs just barely carried them around the corner, into his industrial unit, budleia and willowherb creeping through the tarmac and beckoning him home, broken glass lying outside like it could protect him, like it was on his side.

Perfect for a final stand.

***

Dirk and Todd were meandering in the usual way when it happened. Dirk had been looking at Todd, earnestly explaining why cows were absolutely, definitely from another dimension (“Oh, and platypuses are totally normal?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Todd, they’ve very clearly primordial and have just missed the memo when it comes to evolution”) when he stopped.

“Dirk?” Said Todd, his mouth still stretched into a smile from the ridiculous conversation. “Everything ok?”

He didn’t answer, just turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction, his face slack and horrified and like he’d rather do anything else. Todd jogged to catch up, panic and adrenaline seeping into his blood.

***

He was here. He was close, and Quinn had one chance, just one chance.

“Here, kitty kitty kitty! Oh, Mo-o-o-rpheus!”

They swallowed hard and fought back the bile and the memories. Focus!

“Here boy! Where are you?” Priest’s high giggle cut the air and made Quinn flinch violently. “Or are you a girl? You sure cry like a little girl. I think we should find out for sure what you are when we get you home.”

Quinn bit back a whimper violently, squeezing their eyes shut and demanding control, forcing their body to stop trembling. This was the only chance.

“But you’re just a freak, ain’t you boy? Just a freak like all the others, not fit for polite company. You’ve been out here too long, haven’t you?”

Quinn clenched their fists and gathered up all their hate, all their desperation, clenching it into a ball in their chest, and stepped out of the shadows.

“Oh, well, look at you,” Priest said, and chuckled. “What do you look like? Time to go home, isn’t it, boy? Hmm?”

He raised his dart gun. Quinn dug deep. “Fuck you, Mr Priest,” they said, and hurled their power through the palm of their hand and OUT, out into the air and it HURT, it burned every cell, but they’d rather die than go back to Blackwing.

***

Dirk was running now, long legs taking him further away from Todd, and that was absolutely not acceptable. He raced after him, brass knuckles already in place. Bloody idiot was always getting hurt! Didn’t he know Todd was meant to go first to keep him safe?

They heard the screaming before they even got into the warehouse, awful, gurgling noises that made Todd’s hair stand on end.

And then they saw who it was, and Dirk crumpled, falling to his ass and scrambling backwards, hands over his mouth in soundless terror at the black clad man with his back to them. Todd threw himself in front of him, but stopped, open mouthed. There was another figure walking towards Priest. She cocked her head and threw a shard of glass at him, her eyes blank and bored as he screamed again.

“Bart? Holy shit, I thought she was still back in Wendimoor.” He winced as she raised a knife and slashed, an arc of blood spraying across the room like a Vegas fountain. “Jesus Christ, is that… has she just killed Priest?”

He took a step forward in his shock, and, too late, saw the other person in the room.

His eyes rolled back and he felt his knees buckle, but he didn’t feel himself hit the floor. He blinked. There was green grass, a park as far as he could see, with warm sunlight and the sound of spring birds in the distance.

“Todd?” said Dirk, and he looked up. He was standing over him with his hand out, smiling sweetly at him. “Up you get,” he said, and pulled him to his feet. He put his other arm around him as he stood, and Todd felt a jolt of light flood through his body at the contact, at the feeling of being held against Dirk.

“What--”

“Ready for your birthday present?” Dirk asked sweetly. He still hadn’t moved his hands from off Todd’s hips and it was desperately distracting.

“My present? But it’s not…”

“I know it’s early,” he said, his plush lips curling into a wide smile. “But it was such a lovely day, perfect for a picnic, and you know what the weather’s like here.”

“Dirk, wait--” He grabbed Dirk’s sleeve as he turned to lead Todd down the grassy slope. Todd frowned around him. He didn’t recognise the park at all.

“Are you OK?” Dirk asked, his forehead furrowed in concern. “Did you hit your head when you fell?”

“I don’t…” He frowned. “Don’t think so.”

Dirk smiled softly, and it took Todd’s breath away. He’d never smiled at him like that, there’d always been something hidden that he’d never noticed until now. Compared to this smile, all the other smiles he’d ever received were veiled, cautious, half smiles.

He slipped his arms around Todd’s waist, cradling him like he was something delicate and infinitely precious, the way Todd dreamed of holding Dirk, and he couldn’t breathe, because Dirk was dipping his head, his eyes fluttering shut, and he was kissing Todd, sweet and everything and there were nuclear blasts going off behind his vision because it was the most perfect, softest, gentlest kiss and he’d never been kissed like this, never been loved before, not like this, and--

Dirk shuddered in his arms, and he was suddenly heavy, his knees collapsing. Todd grabbed him, horrified, because there was blood, so much blood. Dirk clutched at his chest, riddled with bullet holes, from so many shots he hadn’t even heard, oh god, there was… there was a rattling noise from Dirk’s throat. “Jesus, fuck, Dirk, what… what can I do? Oh my god, oh my god!” he pressed his hands against one wound, then another, his fingers slick with the gore, and Dirk was dying, he couldn’t survive this, and then Todd wouldn’t survive it, and… and Dirk was struggling with pills, cramming two into his mouth, his face crumpled with the effort of swallowing.

Todd felt sick. If he had to move he’d crumble, if he had to speak he’d fall to pieces, because the pills worked fast, he’d been there from the inside, feeling them hit his stomach, dissolve, the drugs absorbed directly through carriers in his stomach lining. He knew how the pain disappeared embarrassingly quickly, like it had all been a nightmare, all in his head, all that pain and despair and…

Dirk slumped back, breathing heavily, still twitching from the aftershocks. The blood was gone, the bullet holes were gone, and yet Todd felt like he was grieving because this… this was wrong. This was his thing to bear, and he’d never thought of it like this but he’d have taken it any day over seeing Dirk in that kind of pain.

“Dirk,” he croaked, his voice trembling, raw, no, no!

“It’s OK,” Dirk said, exhausted, breathing hard like he’d run a marathon, and Todd had been there, and never wanted to be there more than he did now, because Dirk should never have to--

“Hey,” he said, sitting up with an obvious effort and cupping Todd’s cheek. “I’m OK, it’s over.” He leaned forwards and kissed Todd’s cheek, the corner of his mouth. “It was a little better today,” he smiled, exhausted. “Maybe it’ll keep getting better; didn’t you say it started out feeling better a little bit at a time when it happened to you?”

Todd’s blood froze, his entire body stilling as he heard those words in two voices, and this couldn’t… he wouldn’t have, he wouldn’t, he’d learned, he wasn’t… he wasn’t that person, he’d changed, no, please.

“Todd? It’s OK, I have faith,” Dirk said, nudging their noses together. “I’ll get better just like you did. You give me hope.”

Todd staggered back, his ears ringing, the horror flooding over him like ice, like despair, like no please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry and he couldn’t focus, could only hear his name, screamed over and over from a great distance and

***

“Please let me go to him,” Icarus sobbed, his face soaked with tears. The small guy was screaming, his back arching on the floor like he was in terrible pain, but Quinn didn’t understand, there was nothing… what was that nightmare about? What was he afraid of?

They could see the nightmare projected over him, the other Icarus, the other small guy, they’d seen him and Icarus kiss in the field, and then Icarus get hurt, but it wasn’t scary, what kind of worst nightmare was this?

“Todd!” Icarus screamed as he arched and writhed in pain, but Quinn didn’t understand, because the dream shouldn’t be hurting him, it wasn’t like Priest’s nightmare, of Marzana hunting him (the hunter terrified of a bigger hunter, Quinn wanted to laugh, but they thought maybe if they started they might never stop until they fainted) it was nice, most of it. Icarus and the little guy, Todd, they’d been happy, and what the hell kind of nightmare was that?

Quinn was so tired, so tired, they just wanted to sleep, and maybe this time they wouldn’t be hunted in their dreams like they were every day, but they couldn’t be sure… what if this was all one of their own nightmares, wrapping around everyone, bouncing back onto themself, and just… they were so confused…

Icarus yelled Todd’s name again, and he gasped, the weirdly benign nightmare disappearing. But he was still screaming, still squirming, and Quinn held out their hand, not sure whether to aim at Icarus or Todd.

“Please, let me give him his pills, please, he’s going to die like that,” Icarus cried, his arms held up like he was scared of Quinn. But Quinn was the scared one, nobody was scared of Quinn, what was happening, what was going on?

“Please, I beg you, please stop… don’t nightmare me if I go to him, I promise we’ll leave you… we’ll leave you alone, just let me…”

Quinn’s mind was whirling, they couldn’t hold themself up any more, their arm outstretched burning with muscle fatigue, and they slumped forwards. They weren’t sure if they’d decided to do so or not, but it was like drawing breath for the first time after drowning and they staggered forwards onto their hands and knees, gulping air as Icarus threw himself across the warehouse, hands trembling as he tipped pills into Todd’s mouth.

“It’s OK, Todd, you’ll be OK, please swallow them, please… you’ll be OK.” He sniffled and wiped his nose, and held Todd’s head on his lap, rocking back and forth the way they all used to when training got really bad. Quinn rested their head on the ground and closed their eyes.

***

Todd opened his eyes, his throat raw and powdery, bitter from the drugs. Every muscle was lax and overworked, and he felt feverish after the imaginary ice had drained from his body.

He knew it would be normal, but he could never seem to resist holding up his hand, marvelling at the intact skin where he’d just watched it blacken and crumble away in extreme frostbite, flesh shattering and crackling as if he’d been dipped in liquid nitrogen.

And then his nightmare came back, that awful dream where it was Dirk suffering, where he’d lied to someone else he loved, and for the first time after an attack he smiled because that’s all it had been. He was still the one who had pararibulitis, Dirk was safe, or as safe as Dirk ever could be, and he hadn’t lied again.

But Dirk was crying, rocking as he held Todd and that wasn’t good enough. Still blurred with sleep and exhaustion, Todd sat up and wrapped his arms around Dirk’s hunched body, hushing him and pulling him close. “You’re OK, you’re safe.”

“You nearly died,” he wept, clinging on to Todd’s shirt, his fingers tangled in the flannel.

“Nah, I’m fine, see? It was just an attack, and you helped, you were awesome, thank you.”

“I tried to be faster, I’m sorry, Todd, but Morpheus wouldn’t let me go to you… I should have been braver, I should…”

“Hey, no, don’t do that. It’s all fine, I’m-- wait, where’s Morpheus now? Where’s… shit, is Priest dead, or was that an… an illusion or something?”

They staggered to their feet, both shaking from the adrenaline come-down. Todd sidled up to the bloody corpse and scrunched his nose up. “Yeah, I think we can safely say he’s dead.”

“Morpheus is asleep,” Dirk called. But as he leaned over the sleeping figure, Morpheus groaned, blinked, and startled into a crouch, their arm out to blast Dirk into a nightmare and hell no!

Todd threw himself in front of Dirk, covering as much of him as he could with his too-small body and outstretched arms, and snarled at Morpheus. “Leave him the fuck alone, asshole!”

Morpheus blinked and sagged slightly, and Todd felt sympathetic exhaustion in his own knees and shoulders and every inch of his body. “You just—“

“Todd, no,” Dirk gasped, tugging at him, but for a tall guy he was no match for Todd’s better centre of gravity and spiteful stubbornness. “Morpheus, please, don’t—“

“My name’s Quinn,” they said, and dropped their hand. They frowned at Todd. “I saw your nightmare. It didn’t seem so scary.”

“Yeah, well, better me than Dirk, then, huh? Also fuck you.”

“Is that the worst thing?” they asked, and Todd realised they weren’t asking to be an asshole. They genuinely seemed to find it difficult to understand. “Him hurting… is that the worst thing that could happen?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “So leave him alone.”

“We just want to help,” Dirk said, one hand clenched in Todd’s shirt. “We don’t mean any harm, we were just investigating. The nightmares. That’s… that’s what I do now, I help. I can help. We can, I mean, me and Todd and Farah and… how long have you been free?”

“Six years,” Quinn said softly. “The security never quite got back to what it was after you guys got out. It was worse for a while but… they were… brittle. Like they knew it was only a matter of time before we all…” they shrugged. “Anyway, I got out. Been running ever since.”

Todd relaxed a bit more, still keeping his own body between Quinn and Dirk’s but letting his muscles unclench just a little. “We can look after you,” he said, only a little grudgingly. “We’re getting better at staying away from Blackwing--”

Quinn shook their head. “Blackwing’s gone. I saw Bart a little while ago, she told me. Said the universe got too loud in her head, she had to… to kill them all. Priest was the only one who got away, but even so…” they glanced at Priest’s crumpled body. “Looks like she had a bit of an impact, if she was his worst nightmare.”

“So you don’t choose the nightmares?”

“No.” They frowned at Todd. “I certainly wouldn’t have chosen… anyway. I just… I just want to be free.”

“We can call Amanda,” Dirk nodded, and stepped closer to Quinn, firmly nudging Todd to the side. “She’ll take you anywhere you want to go, she’s good at that, isn’t she?” Todd shrugged, but now Dirk had said it, he saw it was true. Amanda just had a sense of where people needed to be, where they would feel at home. “She hangs around with the Rowdies now - Project Incubus, you know? They’re… better now she’s with them.”

Quinn raised their eyebrows. “Well, they couldn’t be much worse.”

Todd snorted, and Dirk smiled. “They do stay away when we ask them, at least.”

Quinn took a deep breath, and nodded. “OK. It’s not like… I don’t really know what to do with myself, so someone who knows what to do with me… yeah. Makes sense.” They sighed and sat down on the floor like a marionette with broken strings, filthy and surrounded by blood and dust.

“C’mon,” Todd said, holding out a hand, then pulled back. “Uh, you’re not going to give me a nightmare just by touching me, right?”

“No,” Quinn smirked. “I have to mean it. Sometimes it happens when I’m really scared myself, but… I’m getting better at control. I used to have to touch people to set them off, now I can project the power.” They glanced at Priest. “I had to… had to make myself into a distance weapon.”

“Up you get then,” Todd said. It was only a matter of time before it all hit Quinn, what they’d done, killing someone with his own dreams, and it would probably be good if they weren’t near a dead body when the shock hit. “Stinks in here.”

The three of them stumbled out of the old, red-brick warehouse, Quinn with their arm thrown over Todd’s shoulder, and Dirk on the phone to Amanda. Todd could hear her voice, shrill with fear and anger at them for rushing in without calling for backup - again - and just felt tired, down to his bones. He slumped down onto a low, crumbling wall next to Quinn, and the two of them slouched with their elbows on knees, empty.

The autumn sun went some way to banishing the fear and tension, muscles melting like ice into a shaky puddle of exhaustion, rather than a vibrating string, nearing hysteria. By the time the van drew up, earth-shaking music possibly slightly quieter than usual, Todd realised he was slumped against Dirk, and sat up, embarrassed.

“You’re idiots, both of you,” snapped Farah, hands on hips. “What the hell did you not understand about that lecture on teamwork?”

“Which one,” snorted Todd.

“Take your pick.” She crouched down in front of him, turning his face from side to side by his chin. “Are you hurt, any of you?”

He shook his head, but Dirk piped up “Todd had an attack.”

“It’s fine,” he groaned. “I had my pills.”

“That was my fault, I’m afraid,” Quinn said, hand up, eyes wide and worried. “I nightmared him.”

“So you’re Morpheus,” Amanda said, her arms crossed and her face hard. Todd didn’t know why, she wasn’t usually so stand-offish.

“Quinn,” said Dirk, before Quinn could correct her himself. “Morpheus isn’t their name any more.”

Amanda’s glare softened a bit, and she even quirked Quinn a reluctant half-smile.

They told the story as quickly as they could. Todd managed to skip over the awful dream, and although Dirk and Quinn glanced at him, they didn’t add anything. Todd almost sagged with relief, he didn’t want Amanda to have any reminders of what he’d done to her, how little he deserved. Farah made some calls to her nebulous, magical contacts who knew what to do with the bodies of shadowy government agents murdered by their own nightmares, and Amanda took Quinn off to re-introduce them to the Rowdies and Beast.

“Thank you,” said Dirk’s soft voice, and Todd turned in surprise.

“For what?”

“You stood in front of me… you were going to take a nightmare again for me. You didn’t have to… I wouldn’t have wanted you to…”

Todd looked away, awkward. “Yeah, well… your nightmares would have been ten times worse than mine.”

He cocked his head. “You think?”

“Of course, I mean, you have nightmares all the time, from… from Blackwing, and those bastards…” he clenched his fists on his thighs. “I’m glad he’s dead,” he hissed at the cracked tarmac under his feet.

“I don’t dream of Blackwing,” he said, grabbing Todd’s hand. “Or… no, I do, I guess, but not about me being there. I dream…” he took a deep breath. “I see you. There. I see them doing the tests on you, setting off… setting off attacks to study them, I see… I see myself as one of the agents, hurting you, and…”

“Hey, hey, it’s OK. It’s not real, it’s…” Todd turned and held Dirk’s face cupped in both hands. “I’m fine, you see? It’s all over. Blackwing’s gone, Bart killed them all. You’re safe, we both are, OK?”

Dirk nodded hard, his breath still shaky, his eyes still damp. Todd realised he was still cupping his jaw, started to pull away, but Dirk covered his hands, holding them against his face. “In your dream… your nightmare, I was… I kissed you. We were together.”

Todd pulled away and clenched his fists again. “Shit, I’m sorry, Dirk, I didn’t… I never meant for you to know. I swear I never expected anything, I just… can you forget it?”

“You want that? You want me to kiss you?”

“I mean, it’s fine,” he said, shaking his head, trying to crush that weak, pathetic voice that swelled up inside his chest crying yes! “I’ll get over it, it’s just--”

“Please don’t,” he said, his voice breathless, and Todd looked up because wait, this couldn’t be-- but it was. Dirk’s long fingers wrapped around his skull, buried in the hair at the back of his neck, and he kissed him, lips pressed gently, hungrily to his, so brave and so afraid of being pushed back, and fireworks went off behind Todd’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around Dirk’s neck and kissed back.

“Fucking finally!” whooped Amanda, and Todd didn’t even break the kiss, didn’t even hold up his middle finger, because he would happily be embarrassed and blushing every day for the rest of his life if Dirk would just keep kissing him, keep whimpering into his mouth, pressing closer and clinging to him.

When they finally broke apart, Todd buried his face in the junction of Dirk’s neck and shoulder, let himself be small and sheltered, because when it mattered, when he needed it, he’d be strong, he’d stand in front of Dirk again and keep him safe, because together they’d save each other, again and again, in every way.

@bananaslugger20

[dowagerintraining]

Fanfiction: QE does Hogwarts

I hope, I pray, that if this does come across their attention, that none of the QE Fab Five will take offence to being immortalised in my little fanfic for Harry Potter. Guys, if you do object, by all means get in touch and say so. But it really was just for the lols and written with love. 

I can’t put this on ffnet, because one of their rules about stories is not to use any ‘real’ people in your stories. So I am going to post it on tumblr instead. I hope people enjoy it. 

If you don’t, you know where the door is. 

--

The Fab Five from QE are brought to London for an extra special UK episode. They are used to having weeks where they change lives. They’re in for a week which will change theirs too. A headmaster has nominated his old friend and long time colleague for a makeover. There’s just a few problems. 1) He teaches at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and 2) he’s currently in 1995... 

“Oh my God oh my god oh my god, this place is just soooo amazing! I mean it’s so old, really old, and you know I never use looking old as a complement but this city is just owning the looking old thing…”

Karamo smiles to himself as Jonathan goes into autowitter in the background. Tan drives ahead, focusing on the road, the only member of the Fab Five permitted to drive in London traffic, as he learned to drive on what the rest of them refer to as the ‘wrong side of the road’.

He has to admit though, London sure is pretty. There are streets here which are older than anything he’s ever seen in the southern states of America. It’s like driving around a movie set, you half expect people in frock coats to come around the corner at any moment in horses and carriages.

“So who are we doing for this ultra special UK makeover?”

The cheering ripples throughout the car as Karamo pulls out the folder. This application arrived in style, written in green ink on old parchment, with an immaculate hand drawn pencil sketch of the person who had been nominated.

“OK, so, our next guest is a Professor.”

The cheers from the back of the car intensify.

“A Professor? What, like at Oxford or something?”

“No, no, not at University, he’s a school teacher. But I don’t have the name of the school here, so I can’t see what subject. He’s been in the position for more than twenty years, and has been nominated by his boss.”

“So what’s the dude’s name?”

“Professor Filius Flitwick.”

There’s a moment of silence. None of them have ever heard a name like it before.

“Ok…” Jonathan tilts his head to one side like an inquisitive bird, turning to share a glance with Bobby, who pulls a confused grimace with high eyebrows. “So … Phil, then…”

“I guess we can go with Phil, we’ll ask when we meet him.”

“So who’s his Boss?”

“Professor Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore.”

“Oh my Gaaaad,” Bobby rubs his forehead, “You just have to love how the British do their names.” 

“Well, apparently Filius, or Phil, is turning sixty five this year, he’s been working at the school for over twenty years, and he’s an amazing teacher, the students love him and he’s been very successful. It says here is a boarding school, so the school is pretty much Phil’s life’s work. He adores his job, but Albus is aware that he has had no time to spend on himself, and his appearance makes him look a lot older than he actually is.”

“Ahhhh, poor baby. We all know teachers work too hard,”  Antoni is full of sympathy.

“Have we got a photograph, Karamo.”

“We’ve got a sketch…” Karamo hands back the immaculate pencil drawing.

“Oh wow…”

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

Tan’s interest is piqued. He’s never heard the three in the back seat reduced to silence so swiftly. Spotting a parking space to the side of the road, he indicates and pulls in.

“Alright, this I have to see … hand it over…”

Like the others, he is stunned into silence. Firstly because the picture is a masterpiece. He’d almost swear it was alive, it could nearly live and breathe. But secondly, Filius doesn’t look sixty five. He looks closer to one hundred and sixty five. His face is obscured behind an enormous and wizened old beard. His mustache had grown out and merged with the beard, and his face, which was framed by hair which had to be snowy white, was so lined and wrinkled that he looked ancient. A pair of old fashioned half moon spectacles were perched on the edge of his nose. He was dressed in what looked to Tan liked a dressing gown, the sheen of which appeared to be worn velvet, the sort usually seen on the curtains in old school halls. Perched on his head was a bent pointy hat, which seemed to be the same material as his clothing.

“I … “ Tan passed a hand over his face. “I can’t tell, because it’s a drawing obviously, but … does this guy look a little, short? To any of you?”

“I was thinking that,” Bobby said seriously. “It might just be the drawing, but … he looks like he might be a dwarf. Like, he might be an actual dwarf. Like, what’s that actor? The famous one in Game Of Thrones…”

“Peter Dinklage!”

“Yes! That’s it exactly, like him.”

“So … we need to tread carefully here then.”

“But are we not going to talk about the rest?” Jonathan’s voice is shrill with confusion and something approaching outrage. “How on earth does this guy look so old? I mean, sixty is not old. Not these days. Not when you look at someone as dreamy as George Clooney.”

“Well,” Karamo struggles to be fair, “It’s like Antoni said. Teachers work hard, and if he’s teaching at a boarding school, he might not have time to take care of himself.”

“Where is the school, anyway?”

“It doesn’t say, but the headmaster, Albus, is going to meet us in London. Perhaps he lives here during the holidays.”

“Where are we meeting him?”

“The directions are a little confused, but he says to come to King’s Cross Station, and he’ll meet us between platform 8 and 9.”

“Ok, Karamo, are we sure this isn’t production playing a prank on us? We’re not going to end up being mocked on some late night show are we?”

“No, I talked to them, they absolutely swear it’s a real gig, but they are as confused as us. But you know, they’re always looking to include a more diverse range of guests on the show, and the money finally got sorted for us to do a UK special…”

Tan starts up the car and indicates, pulling out into traffic once more. “OK, well, we’re not far from King’s Cross, so we’ll stick the car in short term parking and go pick up Albus.”

“What do you think is with those clothes Tan?”

“Well, maybe it was a dress up day at school or something, the guy looks like some kind of wizard.”

The guys all chuckle, as Antoni and Bobby start exchanging stories about their favourite high school teachers, and the ones who definitely needed to have some kind of makeover. Karamo smiles to himself and listens without a quarter of his brain, as he scans through the flimsy file. There’s not a lot to go on, but maybe Albus can shed some more light on the matter. He’s heard that the British are a lot more reserved, so maybe the guy is just shy, and Albus doesn’t want to hand over too much incriminating evidence to embarrass his friend. That does happen from time to time, and it’s often lead to some of the most fun experiences they’ve had, helping people to blossom and come out of their shells.

“OK, everyone, we’re here!”

Parked up and car secured, the five friends head over to King’s Cross station. Jonathan skips, having overcome his jet lag considerably more quickly than most of the others. He causes a slight stir as the staid and conventional British commuters turn to see which tourist is causing all the commotion.

He doesn’t have the attention to himself for long however. There’s a far more eccentric personality standing on platform 8 who is drawing open mouthed stares from everyone around him.

“Oh my good lordy lord, who on earth is that?”

“Karamo, is that…”

“Do you think…”

“Oh my God…”

“Excuse me, are you … Mr Dumbledore?”

The man is tall, with long flowing clothes which could only be described as robes, of rich scarlet, which hang down to his ankles. His hair is silver white, reading down below his belt, and a tall pointed purple hat is perched on his head, similar to the one Filius was wearing in his portrait, only without the bend in the middle. Tan finds himself remembering snatches of a poem about an old woman, wearing purple, with a red hat, which doesn’t go, but all of those recollections flee from his mind when Albus turns to greet them.

His beard, as impressive as his hair, hangs down past his waist, and is tucked neatly into his belt. His eyes are so blue, they stand out from his face like chips of best bone china, and his smile dominates his face, which is impressive considering the impact of all the white hair. He stands with his arms wide open.

“My friends! My dear good friends, thank you for coming all this way to help an old man sort out his dear friend. I am indeed Albus Dumbledore.”

His voice is sonorous. Tan is reminded of a school trip to Stratford Upon Avon, to watch the RSC perform a Shakespeare play. He thought that only classically trained stage actors could ever speak so perfectly and so correctly.  He looks across at Jonathan, who he suspects has fallen head over heels in love at first sight with this imposing, impressive man who is absolutely in command of himself and comfortable in his delightful eccentric self.

Karamo, the first to recover, extends a hand for a hearty shake and begins the round of introductions. His experience of being the big, black, southern queer has given him a deep respect for those who stand out and proud in their difference, and an ability to take anyone at face value regardless of how the present themselves to the world.

“I cannot tell you what it means to me that you have all come so far, but I am afraid our journey is not over yet. We have a long way to go and in more ways than one.”

“So why are we meeting at Kings Cross, Albus? Is Filius here?”

“Oh, no no no, my good chap, he’s not here. We shall have to take a journey to go and see him. He’s up at the school, deep in preparation for the next year. The staff return a week before the students, to set everything to rights before everyone arrives.”

“Great, so where is the school?”

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you. But I can take you there.”

“Wait, what did you … I mean...?”

“Do not be perplexed Bobby. All will become clear. In the mean time, you will all need one of these.”

Albus is handing out tickets. But they don’t look anything like the train tickets that Tan remembers from when he lived in London. These aren’t small, orange and white striped cards. They are large, golden in colour, with immaculate copperplate writing. The destination is listed as ‘Hogsmeade’, and the platform is emblazoned across the front as ‘Platform 9 ¾ ‘

“Albus is this some kind of joke?”

“A Joke? Not at all Antoni. But I confess it will be a little confusing and will require some explanations as we go. But for now, we have a long journey to make. Could you all come with me please…

Albus leads them over to a wall between the platforms 8 and 9. He puts an arm around Jonathan, who is clearly delighted.

“Are you ready to go on an adventure dear boy?”

“With you Albus? Anywhere…!”

“Good, good, That’s good. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re scared.”

“Do what at a bit of a run?”

“This…”

Albus suddenly, forcefully takes Jonathan by the shoulders, turns him to face the wall, and shoves him towards the wall, hard and fast.

The others move to call out, remonstrate. Karamo has a vision flash before his eyes of Jonathan lying bleeding on the floor before them. Except he isn’t. In fact, he’s nowhere to be seen.

“What… what did you … where did he go?”

“He’s on the platform. Waiting for us.”

“On the platform. Beyond the wall.”

Karamo blinks, turns to the others, who can’t explain the very simple thing they just saw happen before their own eyes.

“Beyond the wall?” says Bobby.

Albus smiles. “Yes. Beyond the wall.”

Bobby suddenly turns. Looks at the wall. Before Antoni can reach out and stop him, he runs full tilt at the wall.

And suddenly, he vanishes. Nobody can quite explain how it happens. But now Bobby is gone too.

“Albus… is that wall real?”

“Absolutely read, my dear Tan.”

“Then how did?”

“Let me ask you this … do you believe that your friends are standing on the otherside?”

“... Yes.”

“Then you are half way to believing yourself. And therefore, half way there.”

Tan turns to Antoni and holds out a hand. He turns to Karamo, repeating the gesture.

“Yes yes, that’s good. Now. After three.”

The three men all link hands.

“All together now. One, two … three!”

Feeling like school children in a playground, all three of them, alongside Albus run full tilt at the wall …

*

Bobby just has time to pull Jonathan out of the way from his skipping and cavorting routine as Karamo, Tan and Antoni crash through the wall behind them.

“Oh my God, Oh my God… guys! GUYS! You have to see this…”

Suddenly Karamo finds himself being dragged bodily around a corner. A strange sound fills his ears, a puffing, almost like a wind blowing, before a shrieking whistle fills the air. Standing before him is a scarlet steam train, the sort that used to appear in the old wild west films, apart from its startling colour. In large golden lettering, the words ‘Hogwarts Express’ are boldly embossed across the front.

“Well gentlemen,” Albus strides ahead, throwing a gleaming smile over his shoulder as he checks and snaps shut an impressive golden pocket watch. “That’s our warning. The train is about to leave. We must make sure we are all aboard…”

[andtheniwrotemarvel]

Salamander (Part 6)

Newt Era HP!Steve/Bucky/Peggy x Reader

Assumed female reader

Word Count: 2349

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

With Peggy dressed up in red and you in silver, you apparated to the entrance of The Blind Pig. It was concealed by a large poster of a woman looking at her reflection in a mirror. As soon as you appeared, the woman's eyes moved to focus on you. You stepped forward, knocked on the wall four times, and as soon as you did, the eyes whipped back to reveal the eyes of a suspicious guard.

"Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?" he said.

"Yes, but I always carry an umbrella," you responded.

"Come on in," the guard allowed.

The door swung open, revealing a raucous speakeasy filled with all sorts of beings. A glamorous goblin created smoky images with her wand and sang a jazzy tune that you thought you might have heard the last time you were here. It wasn't hard to find Queenie and Jacob flirting over by the bar, and you quickly spotted Newt's blue coat in the crowd.

You sat down next to Newt and Tina, who were sitting next to each other at a table, greeting them with a bright smile.

"Tina, this is Peggy Carter. Peggy, this is Tina Goldstein, and I'm sure you remember Newt," you introduced.

"It's a pleasure, Miss Goldstein," Peggy nodded.

"Likewise, Miss Carter."

"And you, Mr. Scamander? How has life treated you these last years?" Peggy asked.

"Better than I expected," he said with a little glance at you. "I'm living out of a suitcase, but it's a rather impressive suitcase if I do say so myself."

"It's more like he lives in a suitcase," you corrected. "The very small area that I've seen of it was rather impressive."

From across the room, Queenie signaled to Tina. From the depths of the speakeasy emerged a smartly-dressed goblin smoking a cigar. He eyed you, Peggy, and Newt warily before sitting at the head of the table. A house-elf hastily brought him a drink.

"So you're the guy with the case full of monsters, eh?" Gnarlak asked, paying no attention to you and Peggy.

"News travels fast," Newt commented. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me if there have been any sightings. Tracks. That sort of thing."

The goblin downed his drink, and another house-elf brought him a paper to sign. "You've got a big price on your head, Mr. Scamander. Why should I help you instead of turnin' you in?" he asked threateningly. The house-elf scampered away with the signed document.

"I take it I'll have to make it worth your while," Newt said.

"Let's consider it a cover charge," Gnarlak confirmed smugly.

Newt naively pulled a couple of galleons from his pocket and slid them across the table.

Barely looking up, Gnarlak sniffed, "MACUSA's offerin' more'n that."

Newt thought for a moment, then pulled a beautiful metal instrument from another pocket.

The goblin almost seemed interested as he said, "Lunascope?" but then let everyone down, saying, "I got five."

Newt rummaged in another pocket and pulled out a frozen, glowing red egg. "Frozen ashwinder egg!" he exclaimed.

"You see, now we're--" Gnarlak stopped, suddenly spotting Pickett, who was poking his head out of Newt's pocket. "Wait a minute, that's a bowtruckle, right?"

"No," Newt lied, placing his hand over the pocket protectively.

"Ah, come on, that's a bowtruckle--they pick locks, am I right?"

"You're not having him."

"Here, you can have my fist in your face. Does that appeal to you?" you snarled, your eyes narrowing. Beside you, Peggy snickered. She hadn't seen this side of you, her favorite side of you, since Hogwarts.

"(Y/N), this would normally be very attractive, but now is not the time," Newt warned you.

"Miss (L/N), if you so much as raised your fist to try and hit me, I've got guys all around us that'll make sure you're dead before you follow through," Gnarlak smirked snidely. "Well, good luck gettin' back alive, Mr. Scamander, what with the whole of MACUSA on your back." The infuriating goblin stood up and started to walk away.

In agony, Newt stopped him, "All right." He extracted Pickett from his pocket and offered him to the goblin, the bowtruckle clinging to his hands and crying. "Pickett," he whispered softly. Newt couldn't even look at the little green creature after Gnarlak had him in his disgustingly bent fingers.

"Ah yeah," he smiled wickedly. "Somethin' invisible's been wreakin' havoc around Fifth Avenue. You may wanna check out Macy's department store. Might help with what you're looking for."

"Dougal," Newt whispered. "Right, one last thing. There's a Mr. Graves who works at MACUSA. I was wondering what you knew of his background."

Gnarlak stared knowingly at Newt, but didn't reveal anything. "You ask too many questions, Mr. Scamander. That can get you killed."

A house-elf carrying a crate of bottles rushed into the speakeasy. "MACUSA are coming!" he alerted, shouting loudly, then disapparated. Others in the bar hurriedly did the same.

"You tipped them off!" Tina accused Gnarlak angrily, getting to her feet.

"You slimy, stinking--"

"Not right now, (Y/N)," Peggy advised.

The many wanted posters hanging on the wall updated to show Tina's, Newt's, and your faces as aurors began to apparated into the speakeasy.

Seemingly innocently, Jacob sauntered up to Gnarlak. "Sorry, Mr. Gnarlak," he apologized, then punched the goblin's face. "Reminds me of my foreman!" he shrugged to Queenie.

"Oh, so Jacob can hit him, but I can't?" you protested.

"Take a stab at it while you can," Peggy encouraged you. "Not a literal stab, though. Actually, you do whatever you feel you need to do."

Drawing your fist back, a still-dazed Gnarlak dropped Pickett to shield his face. It was to no avail, however, as you nailed his nose with a loud crack.

Newt crawled around the floor, looking for where Pickett might have scurried off to. He finally found him clutching a table leg. Only just in time, the group congregated in the center of the bar. Jacob knocked down a shot of Gigglewater, letting out a high-pitched laugh before everyone disapparated.

The six of you reappeared in front of Macy's Department Store. You had passed by it once or twice before on your little adventures around the city, but you had never actually thought about going in. As you looked through the windows, you spotted a handbag sliding down a mannequin's arm. The sudden movement caught everyone else's eye, as well, and you all rushed to the window to watch as the bag floated deeper into the store. All four of the women in your group sensed that Now was not the time for dresses, so you used magic to change your clothes into something more practical. Then, quietly, the group tiptoed into the store, hiding behind the Christmas displays so as not to startle the creature carrying the bag.

"So Demiguises are fundamentally peaceful," Newt whispered, "but they can give a bit of a nasty nip if provoked."

"Let's do our best not to provoke it, then," you said.

The Demiguise then appeared. Covered in long, silver fur, it was a fairly short creature, perhaps the size of a small child. It reached up to a counter to snatch a box of sweets.

"You three," Newt said to Tina, Queenie, and Jacob, pointing to the other side of the Demiguise, "head that way." They began to move away quietly. "And try very hard not to be predictable."

They exchanged confused glances, and Tina looked to you for a possible explanation. You shrugged, not knowing any more than they did.

From above you came a muffled roar that you knew wasn't coming from the Demiguise. The little hairy creature looked up toward the ceiling upon hearing the sound, then resumed shoving sweets into the handbag.

"Was that the Demiguise?" Tina mouthed to Newt.

"No, I think it might be the reason the Demiguise is here," he whispered back. He motioned to you and Peggy to follow him closely, and you began creeping quickly down an aisle toward the Demiguise.

It turned around, realizing that it had been discovered. After looking at Newt quizzically, it moved up a set of side stairs. Newt gave a small smile and followed it. Everyone else followed. At the top of the stairs was a huge attic, walls lined from top to bottom with shelves with boxes full of china kitchenware.

The Demiguise shuffled through the attic in a patch of moonlight, and after taking a quick look around, it turned out its bag of sweets onto the floor.

"Its sight operates on probability, so it can see the most likely immediate future," Newt explained softly.

"That's why you told us to try not to be predictable," you realized. "How interesting!" Newt nodded, a broad grin on his face. He began creeping up to the Demiguise, the grin being replaced by worry.

"So what's it doing now?" Tina asked.

"It's babysitting," the wizard answered as the Demiguise held up one of its sweets, offering it to something unseen.

"What did you just say?" Tina questioned.

"This is my fault," Newt started defeatedly. "I thought I had them all, but I must have miscounted."

"Miscounted what now?" Peggy pressed.

"An Occamy."

"Merlin help us," you groaned.

"Why? What's an Occamy?" Tina worried.

As Jacob and Queenie stepped forward to look around more of the attic, the moonlight shifted to reflect off of the blue scales of a giant snake-like bird hiding in the rafters.

"It's babysitting that?" the brown-haired American witch queried in awe and fear. The Occamy snaked slowly down toward your group and the Demiguise, which again offered up a sweet.

Newt remained unmoving. "Occamies are choranaptyxic, so they grow to fill available space," he stated slowly and calmly, trying not to spook the huge creature. It turned its head to the sound of its caretaker's voice, and he held up a hand gently, cooing, "Mummy's here."

You couldn't help but smile at that; Newt considered himself the mother of his creatures, not just a caretaker.

Queenie took a few steps forward, accidentally kicking a Christmas ornament, which made a small jingling noise.

The Occamy, startled by the sudden sound, reared up with a loud screech. Newt's attempt to calm it was fruitless, and the creature scooped him onto its back as it swooped.

Queenie and Jacob staggered back to find cover from the violently thrashing Occamy, and you pushed Peggy and Tina back and out of the way, shielding them with yourself.

"Right, we need an insect, any kind of insect," Newt shouted, sounding logical even in the midst of the danger. "And a teapot! Find a teapot."

Tina dropped to the floor, army-crawling and trying to find either of the two items.

The Occamy's wings crashed down to the floor, barely missing Jacob as he scrambled for safety, which was difficult with the creature now clinging to his back. As it grew more and more distressed, its wings thrashed upward, destroying the building's roof.

"Are we witches or not?!" Peggy shouted.

"Right!" Tina called back.

"Accio insect!" you yelled, a disgusting little bug then zooming into your hand. The Occamy, still scared and thrashing about, slammed you into a wall with its tail, the bug escaping your grip as you were buried in shelves.

Performing a bit of nonverbal magic, Tina summoned a teapot. "Teapot!" she cried out once it was safely in her grasp.

At her shout, the Occamy reared its head, pinning Jacob and the Demiguise against one of the rafters. Jacob had acquired a bug, a cockroach, as well, but as he and Tina were on opposite sides of the attic, they had no way to get the roach into the teapot.

Suddenly, everything went still. The Demiguise looked shiftily upward, then disappeared. Jacob followed where the little creature's gaze had been, and found the Occamy's face very close to his own as it stared intently at the cockroach in his hand.

Newt, trapped just on the other side of the Occamy's head, whispered, "Roach in teapot..."

Jacob gulped, knowing what he had to do. In a last-ditch attempt to soothe the Occamy before he acted, he shushed it shakily. He cast a meaningful glance at Tina, warning her of what he was about to do.

He threw the roach.

It soared through the air, and the Occamy followed it. Newt managed to jump off of its back and land safely on the floor, while Queenie took cover, using a colander as a helmet. Just as you cleared the shelving from your head, the Occamy's tail knocked more down, again covering you.

Teapot outstretched, Tina ran across the attic, hurdling over the creature's coils as she went. She fell to her knees and slid to the center of the room, the cockroach landing perfectly inside the teapot. The Occamy reared once more, and began to shrink rapidly as it dove into the teapot.

Newt leapt forward and jammed a lid on top of it, trapping the Occamy inside. Everyone sighed heavily in relief.

"Choranaptyxic," Newt said. "They also shrink to fit the available space. He took the top off of the teapot to see the now very tiny Occamy thoroughly enjoying its cockroach.

Peggy and Jacob helped clear all of the broken shelving from off of you, Jacob helping you to your feet after they got enough off so you could stand.

"That's a nasty cut you've got there," he commented, looking at a slice on your forehead.

"I've been through worse, believe me," you smiled at the muggle--or no-maj, whatever they called them here. You and Peggy walked over to where Newt and Tina were looking at the Occamy in the teapot while Jacob went to check on Queenie.

"Tell me the truth," Tina said. "Was that everything that came out of the case?"

"That's everything, and that's the truth," Newt confirmed.

"What about the Billywig I saw while we were on recess?" you asked. "I'm assuming it came from your case."

"Billywig?" Tina questioned.

Newt's face flushed red. "He's fine. He's not noticeable enough to cause a ruckus."

Tags: @shamvictoria11 @cookies186 @sweeneytoddler

[melorsomething]

Crystal Clear | Chapter 6 | Energy

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

After a brief and mostly unsuccessful trip to Laura’s tower—once again, the necromancer was nowhere to be found, so Moira simply left a note to thank her—Moira returned to Angela’s room, only to nearly run into the back of Headmaster Ambrose. She reeled back, catching herself on the door frame. The headmaster did not notice, or rather he did not react, to Moira’s presence.

“As you can understand, the circumstances put us in quite a predicament, Miss Seahaven—”

Seahaven?!

“—and I have decided the best course of action is to send you to those who may have an idea of what we’re dealing with. Arrangements have been made for travel this evening.”

Before Angela could reply, Moira burst out, “This evening? This evening? Are you insane?”

“Moira—” Angela tried to interrupt.

“She almost died!” Moira continued.

“Another wizard did die, Miss..?” The headmaster raised his eyebrows in silent inquisition.

Moira swallowed her words and spit out a bitter, “Moonpyre, sir.”

“The people are afraid. They are outraged. This is as much for Miss Seahaven’s safety as it is for theirs.”

“You can’t just—”

“Moira,” the scratchy voice of Angela came once again, sounding as tired as before. Moira blinked twice, fully registering Angela’s awake presence for the first time. “It’s okay. I’ll go where he wants.”

“You can’t do this!” Moira cried, striding to her friend’s side. “You have to give her… a trial! Or something… you can’t just…”

“Moira, don’t,” Angela said, reaching out and resting a hand on her arm. Moira looked down at her in shock. “It’s okay,” Angela reassured her. “I’ll be okay.”

“But...” Moira began. No, you won’t be. Not without me. She turned to the headmaster again. “Is she just going to be alone?”

“Not at all. She will be with the monks deep in the Cave of Solitude. They take in troubled wizards and help to restore their minds. They have done it before with wizards of her background.”

“What do you mean by ‘her background’? I—whatever. Her mind is fine. It doesn’t need restoring. She didn’t do this on purpose. She isn’t dangerous.”

“It is precisely the fact that she did not intend for the death to happen that makes her so dangerous. The accidental use of so much power coupled with her Celestian background is a recipe for disaster if not handled properly. She could kill again without meaning to. The monks will help her master her emotions and mind.”

“She can master it here.”

“Moira—”

“She will not pose a danger to anyone in the Cave of Solitude. The monks are well-equipped. It is the better decision.”

“Do I get a—”

“No, keeping her here is the better decision because she’ll be with people she knows and trusts.”

“Miss Moonpyre, this is hardly a matter of your—”

“Hey!” a broken yell interjected. Everyone in the room turned to Angela, who had shifted to her knees and was waving her arms. “Since this is about me, could I maybe get a word in?”

No one spoke.

Angela turned to Moira. “Moi, I know it’s hard, but it’s fine. I’ll go. I’m not needed here, and maybe he’s right. What if I do that again? What if I do that to you?” Turning to the headmaster, she added. “This evening? Do I get to bring anything?”

“A Wizard City guard will escort you first to your castle and then to the World Tree.”

“Thank you.”

After the headmaster had left and Moira had shut the door behind him, she spun to face Angela and exclaimed, “What in the name of the Spiral are you thinking? You don’t deserve this! Why aren’t you fighting this? The Ange I know would.”

Angela had sunk back into the bed, her back hunched with the effort of keeping herself up after her outburst. She looked up and replied calmly, “Sometimes in life, you have to accept responsibility for your actions.”

“And you choose now to start doing that?” Moira’s tone was annoyed but her heart was hurting, torn between wanting to reach out for her friend and wanting to stay angry.

“Hey, watch it. I am leaving tonight, after all.”

“You don’t have to. I could hide you at my castle,” Moira suggested halfheartedly.

Angela let out a weak laugh. “I don’t think I could handle living in your castle forever, which is approximately how long it’d take to train myself without the monks’ help.”

“Ange, you don’t have to learn to control yourself; there’s nothing wrong with you! It was a freak accident, and freak accidents don’t happen more than once.”

“Moira, when did you become the one to defy authority? I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. We will all be fine. I’m going: end of story.”

Defeated by the girl’s weak appearance and soft tone, Moira didn’t protest. Granted, she didn’t agree, either. Instead, she silently sat down next to Angela and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in for a half-hug. “I could come with you.”

“Moi, as much as I love you, please shut up.”

Moira laughed, shaking her head as she squeezed the girl tighter. “You know I’ll never do that.”

Contrary to Moira’s words, the pair sat in silence for a while, their breathing falling in sync. After a long time, Angela spoke.

“Moi?”

“Hmm?”

“I know I said I’d be fine, but… what if I’m not? What if Ambrose was right about my Celestian background being an added risk? What if I’m turning out like them?”

Moira didn’t speak, her mind flitting back to all the things she’d learned about Celestia ever since her family had taken Angela in. She certainly hadn’t been the first person to fall from the sky, and Moira had a feeling she wasn’t the most recent, either. The thing that had made Angela so special was that she was, for the most part, normal.

Moira had forced her parents to take her to the library day after day to retrieve the latest news on anything Celestia related. It was how she had first gotten to know Mr. Argleston. Each time they shuffled in, Moira clinging shyly to her father’s cape, he would smile at her and crack a joke, even though she never replied. In retrospect, he probably hadn’t ever figured that the newspapers were for her and not her parents.

She remembered reading about the wizards who had crashed down, mysteriously falling from skies all over the Spiral. She remembered asking Angela about it, the already silent girl seeming to fall even more silent when she brought up the lost world. And she remembered reading about the fallen wizards and their broken minds. All of them, no matter where they ended up, could not shed any light on the situation. Some were simply silent, refusing to utter even the slightest clue as to their identity or story. Others were driven mad, with no one able to make heads or tails of their ramblings. Others still were catatonic, completely unresponsive to the world, even after their physical wounds were long since healed.

Moira remembered being afraid that Angela would fall into the first category. After all, for weeks they had only been able to refer to her as ‘kid’, ‘kiddo’, ‘honey’, or whatever other comforting pet name they could think of. Finally, long after Moira had stopped asking her about Celestia, the small girl had uttered her name late at night in the room they shared.

“Angela.” The girl said, her green eyes shining in the light of the desk lantern.

Moira turned from her bed to stare at her, startled by the voice from the other side of the nearly dark room. “What?” she breathed.

“My name is Angela. You don’t have to call me ‘pal’ anymore.”

Eyes still wide and mind reeling, Moira couldn’t think of anything to do but amend her earlier statement. “Good night, Angela,” she said.

“Good night, Moira.”

Of all of Moira’s memories of Angela, that was the strongest. The joy and relief her heart felt as she realized this girl wasn’t broken like the others was unrivaled at any point in her life. Or, it had been, in the past. If asked to choose now, Moira wasn’t sure which moment she’d name as the winner: that night, or when she met Angela’s eyes after waking up from Laura’s spell. She pondered on it for a moment, but ultimately decided it was a choice she’d never have to make, anyways.

Pulling herself back to the present, she realized Angela was still looking at her, expecting an answer. “I think things will work out,” she said, acutely aware that she only half-believed it, herself.

Angela smiled slightly. “I wish you could go tell your earlier self that. You yelled at Ambrose. How does that feel now?”

Moira groaned. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye again. Don’t get me wrong: I stand by everything I said, but I can’t believe I yelled at the headmaster. Easily top ten mortifying moments.”

Quiet laughter from both girls filled the room.

“Hey Moi?” Angela asked again.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“You know I’m coming with you, right?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Moira, no.”

“Angela, yes. You can’t stop me. Even if I get stopped from going with you tonight, I’ll just make my way to Mooshu some other time. I’ll come find you, whether you like it or not.”

It was Angela’s turn to groan. “Moira,” she whined, drawing out the second syllable. “I don’t need you around all the time.”

“Yeah,” Moira replied, giving Angela’s shoulder another squeeze, “but I need you.”

Angela let out another weak chuckle, but it wasn’t long before the room fell silent once more. After a few moments, Moira said quietly, “I really do need you, Ange.”

But the theurgist was already asleep, snoring quietly. Moira smiled down at her, maneuvered the girl so she was laying down, and joined her in slumber.

That evening, after several teary breakdowns (mostly by Moira) and one yelling session (by Moira’s parents, given that she had forgotten to inform them of the situation until it was too late for them to make their way back to say goodbye to Angela), the two girls headed into the World Tree, Angela flanked by guards and Moira trailing as close as they would let her.

“Moira, I already said goodbye,” Angela called back, her voice still quiet and weak. “No offense, but what are you doing here?”

“I told you: I’m coming with you. I don’t care if I have to become a monk or whatever. I am coming with you.”

Angela protested once again, but Moira had already made up her mind, and she slipped a hand into her pocket, feeling for a small slip of paper. Grace had destroyed the written spell, but not the pronunciation guide Laura had written out. If Angela was going to continue getting weaker, Moira would do the spell for as long as she had to.

Once inside the tree, Moira chattered to Angela about nothing in particular, but trailed off as she realized the theurgist was no longer listening to her. In fact, she was no longer listening to anyone. As a guard lectured Angela on her journey, Angela stood silent, gazing intently at a spot in the bark wall.

“You will be greeted in the Jade Palace by a monk from their order, who will then lead you to—Hey!” The guard interrupted himself as Angela ducked around him, scampering over to the wall.

“Get back here!” another guard yelled, adding in a whisper to the others, “Seize her.”

“No!” Angela said, holding out her hand while she stayed pressed against the wall. “No, it’s okay. I’m not running. There’s something… something here… I can’t quite… Moira? Moira, can you feel it?”

Casting a cautious glance at the guards, Moira moved closer. “Ange,” she said with a nervous chuckle, “what are you on about? What kind of plan is this?”

“It’s not a plan,” she snapped back. “Don’t you feel it? The disturbance?” The look in her eyes was frantic and frazzled, and Moira took a step back.

“No, I don’t. Just calm down; it’s okay to be scared.”

“I am not joking. I am not crazy. There is something here—it’s a—it’s some force or something—that wasn’t here before.”

“The guards can report it to the headmaster; it’ll be fine. Don’t anger the people who are holding your only supplies.” Moira was suddenly aware of all the other wizards in the chamber staring at them, and wanted nothing more than to tell them all to mind their own business.

Suddenly, Angela reached out and snatched Moira’s hand into her own, pressing it against the bark. She closed her eyes and asked again, in a gentler voice, “Can’t you feel it?”

As the last syllable left Angela’s tongue, Moira gasped as she felt a strange energy run through her. She tugged at her arm, but her hand was locked firmly in Angela’s grip, which certainly did not match in strength to the gaunt girl it belonged to.

“What,” she breathed, “is that?”

“You want to know, too, don’t you? Are you really content just reporting this to Ambrose?”

Opening her mouth to speak, Moira found herself breathless, and simply gaped like a fish. Gasping for air, she tried again. “Please, let me go.”

Angela dropped Moira’s hand instantly, a look of surprise written across her face. “Are you okay? What’s wrong, Moi?”

“That energy,” she said, pausing for breath. “It feels like death. How are you not reacting to it?”

“No, no, no, that doesn’t feel like death; it feels like life. Death doesn’t have energy; you can’t feel it. But this wall is brimming with the energy of life. Too much life. But why?”

She pulled back from the wall, grabbing Moira’s wand. Moira tried to reach for it, but Angela was already touching the tip to the wall, her eyes glowing with magic.

And all at once, the room filled with a high ringing, causing everyone to cover their ears. When they looked back at the wall, a crack had formed in the bark. Before anyone else could react, Angela was already reaching out. As soon as her fingertips brushed against the edge of the crack, she disappeared. For a moment, everything was silent. The humming stopped, the air seemed to still, and everyone in the room stood frozen. Then, just as suddenly as before, the room exploded with white light, and, when it cleared, there was no longer a crack in the wall.

Instead, a gaping hole with blackened edges took its place, seeming to have eaten away at the tree’s bark. Faintly, Moira could hear the screams of the other wizards in the spiral chamber, and while she was aware of how dangerous the hole likely was, she found herself moving closer to it. For a few seconds, she stood perched at the edge, peering out into the blackness. Then, she whispered to herself, “I need her,” and stepped forward.

[thoughtscascade]

Ideal (ish) Flash S4 Outline

Ep 1-2- Wally does the intro. We see everyone has tirelessly been working to bringing back Barry, but it seems hopeless. Minor irrelevant villain, primary focus is Wally deciding to don The Flash costume instead of Kid Flash. Cecille and Joe are together, and Iris is happy for them but somewhat avoiding them and anyone else in a relationship due to being upset about Barry. Iris and Julian bond. (Iris points aren’t this ep only, just introduced). Jesse is revealed to have gone missing (maybe not missing, but some reason she’s judged to need Jay and Harry more than Team Flash, could be a crisis of some sort) and Jay and Harry go to search for her. Episode ends with a glimpse into the Speedforce

Ep 2-4- Wally continues to grow into the Flash mantle. Cisco decides to join him in patrolling the city. Some wannabe vigilantes have taken up arms in the city as well, though many are doing more harm than good. (Possible backdoor pilot for plastic man, green lantern, or other). Interspaced in these episodes we see Lisa Snart talking to Peek-a-boo, Rainbow Raider, and Pied Piper.

Ep 4-6- Lisa Snart talks to Weather Wizard, The Top, and Mirror Master. We Cisco had taken to checking in on Caitlin without her knowledge during these patrols, and she confronts him. Linda returns from Coast City. Wally feels guilty about Barry and about the fact he couldn’t join Harry and Jay in locating Jesse.

Episode 7-8- The Rogues pull their first heist. Interspaced we also see Barry experiencing the Speedforce. The Rogues beat Wally easily, and by the time Cisco gets there they’re gone and he falls into a mostly harmless trap. They are found by the police. David Singh, tired of This, suggests the police and Team Flash coordinate (various times during previous episodes Wally and the police got in each other’s ways). They agree.

Episode 9-10- David and Team Flash properly introduced and try to coordinate, Linda finds Iris and Iris fills her in on what happened, copious bonding on all parts. Wally and Cisco learn to work with the police. David arranges excuses for Joe and Julian to be with Team Flash during working hours as well if necessary.

Episode 11- Speedforce episode, entirely Barry centric. Shows Barry losing his sense of self entirely as the episode goes on.

Episode 12-13-Wally is taking on villains extremely efficiently, with police support when needed. Iris is still having trouble being around Team Flash for the most part, and spends much of her time with Linda. Jesse situation is resolved, and Harry and Jay offer to come back but Team Flash decides they’re functioning…pretty smoothly, actually, they’re good. Linda and Iris befriend Hartley and Shawna, not knowing either are villains.

Episode 14-is another Rogue episode, Cisco thinks he figured out ways to defeat a good portion of the Rogues, but every method that weakens one seems to help another, such as mirrored glasses to stop The Top and Rainbow Raider let Mirror Master get close to them easily and let Shawna teleport without turning her back to them, sound waves to short out Glider’s gun can be turned back against them by Hartley, etc. They lose once more.

Episode 15- Barry escapes the Speedforce, used Iris as his lightning rod, etc. Everyone’s thrilled, blah blah blah. He arrives just in time to save her from some random villain. We see Shawna in the background ready to jump in on behalf of Iris, but she teleports away once Barry arrives. We see Caitlin slinking away after Cisco and the others reunite with Barry, hug him, etc.

Episode 16- Barry and Iris marry, mid season finale. (We see the Rogues preventing other villains from fucking it up)

Episode 17- Villain of the week episode, obligatory animal/partial animal CGI Budget user of the season probably. Wally returns Flash mantle to Barry, who has returned from his honeymoon with Iris.

Episode 18- Crossover, unknown to people who aren’t the Legends Snart and Mick decide to stay in Central.

Episode 19-20- Harry pops in for a visit, by the end of the ep Julian had decided he wants to explore other Earths. Harry lends help with some villain already beaten on his Earth. HR tells them the story of whatever happened with Jesse, we maybe see flashbacks of it.

Episode 21- Rogue focused ep, maybe? Flashbacks to their not on screen heists, them training, overall showing the dynamics as a lead up to the next eps?Idk.

Episode 22-23- Lisa is somehow taken out of commission. Weather Wizard and Bivolo want Mark to step in as leader, Mirror Master and The Top think it should be Sam. Hartley and Shawna aren’t even sure they still want to be Rogues. They’re all fighting. Meanwhile, Len hears about his sister (maybe in a coma pre nu52 powers? Or something), sees a ton of villains fighting, and gets pissed. Him and Mick get involved. Barry, Cisco and Wally try to minimise damage, Hartley and Shawna eventually joining their side. Killer Frost joins in too, to the surprise of all. The finale is Barry, Wally, and Cisco staring down Shawna, Hartley, and Caitlin, wondering if they’ll need to fight them now too.

Episode numbers aren’t exact or anything, and obviously I didn’t put a ton of thought into the villains of the week, but that’s the general gist of plot points I think would be cool to see. S5 would then have a bit of a redemption theme maybe? Idk I was just thinking about how I don’t want the whole Barry in the Speedforce thing to be resolved in one ep and it spiralled honestly.

[mulder-isms]

Green - (Thorcid fanfic)

A\N: This short fic was inspired by the 420 picture and pot gummies so it’s a mess. Because if it ain’t green, I’m not interested *in Laganja’s voice*  

But seriously, green is my favorite color I’m obsessed.  💚 💚 💚 💚

Tell me what you think and save this poor “author” of the anxiety of writing words and give me the boost so this ship must go on. Or just send anon hate (  pls dont tho)

The snake patterned fabric got stuck in the sewing machine. It was enough to make Thorgy curse all the versions of The wizard of Oz and having a breakdown to stare at the void. It happened many times before in the workroom, where the pressure is so high that people are inclined to shut down. The emerald fabric was glistening bright green shades on his face but inside it was all blue. He missed Acid’s smoothing voice lurking on his back telling ‘get it together, girl’. It was a surprise, he didn’t know he would miss Acid Betty for any reason.  

Acid was the glue that was sticking team NYC together during the whole competition. This challenge was making everyone on edge. Including unbreakable Bob. He snapped out of the motionless state because time was running with no intention to stop, ever. Betty would have rolled her eyes profusely at the puddle he was.

Thinking about Acid was comforting, it set his made in the right place, wherever that was.

X

“I guess we’ve reached that point”

Shane was having breakfast on his kitchen table, and by breakfast it meant just pure black coffee (a post Jamin renewed addiction) with some old crackers. Alvy on the other side of the table, eating cereal from a big bowl and had a plate of fresh fruits by his side. The lifelong friend offered some for Shane but he just “Ugh” and grimaced. Because coffee was the proper meal for an empty stomach.

“The last weeks he’s been travelling a lot, you know, and no news here. We’re used to the travelling periods now” Shane continued talking as he was eating some crackers in between. Alvy continued chewing calmly as listening to his roommate with faint interest. “It’s that point where nothing gets on our nerves? Like last week I stayed over because we haven’t seen each other in ages and we fell asleep watching TV… I mean the sex is still great, but sometimes we’re just not in the mood that much”

Alvy shook his head wishing to be spared of the details.

“But I-I…” he stuttered trying to find the words. “I mean is this normal? I know it’s normal but under our circumstances? Aren’t we supposed to be all over each other yet? Am I being dramatic? Don’t answer that! ” Shane blurted out in the speed of light concerned.

Alvy just cleared his throat and started eating an apple slowly.

“For someone that has been a whore for such a long time your lack of knowledge about relationships is astonishing.” Alvy replied in uninterested tone.

“Right?” Shane confirmed laughing and gesticulating with his hands. “That’s because I’ve never been in a relationship for this long with someone I actually care about and that cares for me?” he realized waving his crackers.

“True… and sad. But on a lighter note, yes Shane, it’s normal. Couples stop having sex like rabbits after a while. Thank god. These walls are damn thin and I can’t with you guys thinking you’re doing a casting for Cocky Boys” Alvy assured his friend as he was finishing his bowl.

Shane had no idea what Cocky Boys were but didn’t care anyways. He took a deep breath, but still a little bit of worry hanging on his sleeve.

“Last year on Drag Con we fucked in a bathroom with people coming in and out at 8 am, it was fucking hot”

Alvy closed his eyes and put down his spoon and now that he was recollecting the memories from Drag Con he remembered that Thorgy and Acid were always together, the fugitive glances and ear by ear talks.

“I know I’m crazy, but I keep thinking he is tired of me or this whole situation. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m starving” then he shrugged and grabbed a banana that was in plate and started to peeling it.

X

The concert with Eliot was a blast. He was so pumped with the musical gigs he would have in May too, it was his dream coming to life, and the fact that people appreciated so much when he played made him overwhelmed with happiness. Jamin was on the road and he was constantly sending messages of how tired he was with the whole Roast tour. Jamin had a curious nature, it was easy for him to be excited about going to new places and clubs but touring was draining. You can only tell the same joke so many times.

But Shane knew everything was going to alright. It was 420. He was wearing his Grinch pubes wig and a dress that Jamin could easily take it off.

“Good Luck on your gig, I’m sure you’re gonna kill it. Alotta’s auction is tonight and I’ll see you in her apartment after? Save me some pot gummies, bitch.”

Shane laughed as he stared at the screen. He was high and relaxed from the pot gummies. Bach was still playing on his head, a whole orchestra of Emerald City citizens as he was conducting. The walls melting in green.  He had to see Jamin.

X

Shane loves to see Jamin’s back in the morning, his muscles and shoulder blades contracting, as he is leaning in the kitchen balcony doing the dishes wearing just briefs. He loves how Jamin’s skin is beautiful and soft and he doesn’t even know the devil’s pact he did to have that ass. He loves to see him completely bare of his layers of colors.

But the same time, nothing makes him happier than watch Acid Betty in all the sass and hyper colors. Tonight, she was wearing a green structured dress and the lizard prints all over her neck. They hugged tight and briefly, it was the break from the auction and a queen was doing a number on stage. Thorgy snapped one pic of them together to post on IG, because he could never resist.

“How many gummies did you have?” Acid asked laughing at how far way Thorgy seemed browsing through her phone, trying to post the pic.

Thorgy took teen long seconds to answer with her finger pointing up as if she was actually able to count. “Enough” she precisely answered after giving up and holding a laughter. Acid noticed Thorgy had her backpack in one shoulder and the violin case on the other. A queen was calling Acid back to the stage, she nodded half smiling to Thorgy pulling the sleeve of her green coat and whispering on her ear.

“You look cute”

And she winked her glitter lashes making Thorgy’s stomach swirl.

Acid and pot was a good combination.

X

Jamin didn’t even know how he got in Alotta’s apartament. The auction was a complete blur. The place was full of all the underworld creatures that were lurking dazed and confused in the Metropolitan. He wanted to take a shower to sober up.

He looked down at the bathtub, the dark green water washing away his makeup, his green attires hanging on the top of the curtains hanger. When he opened his eyes, after rinsing the shampoo off his hair he noticed someone was in the bathroom and he yelled hastily. He completely forgot to lock the door.

“It’s occupied!”

The person’s figure was undefined but the green top of hair and the height could be only one person. Before Jamin knew Shane was joining him under the shower, his Thorgy face still on. He urgently kissed Jamin, their make up being destroyed by the running water and the friction of their bodies. Jamin enjoyed then sensation of having his boyfriend all wet in his arms forgetting about the opened door. When Shane stopped to catch a breath Jamin picked some liquid soap and place on his hand to wash his face.

“Close your eyes, you nut” he asked as Shane was giggling looking positively crazy and super adorable. Shane closed his eyes and Jamin washed his face. First he rubbed the glue of his thick brows, and Shane’s features were appearing slowly again, his light skin red with the temperature and the contact, the small nose, and his squinted gray-green eyes sparkling again behind the black eyeliner residues.

Jamin took a second to appreciate the face that was forming in front of him. Then he turned around to wash his own hair, since he was in the process of doing it when Shane interrupted him.

“You still have lizard scales” Shane pointed rubbing Jamin’s neck from behind.

“Thorgy?”

Alotta’s deep voice was inside the bathroom already. Jamin and Shane froze but it was too late to do anything and they were too high to even function.

“Bitch, who are you blowing in this bathroom?” he asked suspicious noticing the two silhouettes.

“I’m with Acid. I was trying to get her to fuck me but we are pouring green and I’m seeing leprechaun violinists”  

“She really is!” Jamin went along.

Alotta squinted his eyes holding the doorknob and then she cackled screamed.

“You Ru Girls are fucking disgusting.  I want you two out my tub in five minutes” Alotta replied unbothered and too high to care too. It wasn’t the weirdest thing he saw tonight.

They both laughed and got off the the shower quickly. They put some clothes on fast and joined the others in the living room, they got lucky but they wouldn’t want to draw any attention. There was a cloud of god knows what forming in the living room. Nobody noticed they both had wet hair.

The night continued with lots of drinks and different many items of cannabis haute cuisine. Shane was almost passed out on the couch observing Jamin playing cards with the rest of the men and drag queens. Everything was fading away slowly…

X

When Shane woke up he was still on the couch. He was afraid he was going to be stuck in a green sunrise but everything looked colored enough for his relief. His eyes searched for other bodies on the floor but there wasn’t anybody in sight, just a low electronic music playing in the background.

He wondered if Jamin left without him, but right after his brain formulated the question Jamin appeared from behind and joined him in the couch. Shane made room for him, so he could hug him by the waist and he could rest his chin on the top of Jamin’s head.

They stood there in silent, still sleepy, Jamin’s hot breath on his chest, making his shirt damp. He played with the curls of his dark hair.

“God…how I missed this….” His voice coming out muffled squeezing Shane tighter and placing kisses on his chest. Shane breathed, as he could finally breath again, kissing the top of Jamin’s head and putting a leg over him. He thought about following his old patterns, saying ‘I thought you were getting tired of me’ because that what was on his mind the whole week. But it would just ruin what shouldn’t be a doubt. Not with Jamin in his arms like that.

“I love you”

The simplicity of the words were taking him by surprise too. Shane was many things, but never simple. Jamin responded kissing him gently, with no hurry, breathing in his morning warmth, the smell of soap still on his skin. Shane slid his hand inside Jamin’s jeans quickly, rubbing his length lazily.

“And I miss your cock inside of me fucking me hard” he whispered on Jamin’s ear making Jamin laugh and almost lose his balance out of the couch. He positioned himself again and started placing kisses on Shane’s collarbones, encouraging him to continue.

“And I thought romance wasn’t dead” he replied under his chin, pulling Shane closer by the hips and biting his ear lobe, making him let go a soft moan.

Shane continued rubbing him, and he was growing solid with each stroke, circling the tip of his head making him let go soft ‘fucks’. Jamin inserted his hand inside Shane’s shorts, craving his nails on Shane’s ass, thrusting in and out and he kept fastening the pace, the panting of their breathing getting uneven…but then they heard one door creaking in the back of the corridor.

Jamin jumped out of the couch fast closing his fly and Shane moaned in frustration putting his hands on his temple frustrated.

Alotta was there, half naked, in seconds.

“Betty how are you even up…” Alotta was walking by dragging his limbs across the room and Jamin was holding a pillow in front of  his crotch.

“Pot has a reverse effect on me” he justified throwing the pillow on the floor and sitting on the armchair crossing his legs. Shane was pretending to be sleeping. Alotta sat on the couch, next to Shane’s face, and drank from the bottle of water that was resting on the coffee table. Acid observed all his movies tense. Alotta looked down at Thorgy and shook his head.

“This bitch doesn’t even move”

Jamin just nodded in agreement looking at his boyfriend swollen lips, and his eyes twitching pretending the fake slumber. Alotta got up again and proceeded to the kitchen clueless about the hot make out session that was going on seconds ago.

Shane opened his eyes not controlling his laughing anymore, he gave up the act, sitting up straight. He was all messed up, the oversized striped blouse falling all crooked exposing his shoulder, the zipper of his bermuda shorts still open. He started putting the lose dreads up again. Jamin was observing him from the armchair. He wondered when he would stop finding that gesture so alluring.

“I can’t wait to mess you up all over again at home” Jamin commented with eyes fixed on him still in awe, biting lips.

“Bitch, please do” Shane answered with an exasperated sigh and giggling.

[earlgreytea68]

Focus

For @kate2kat! Happy Valentine’s Day! Happy @eamesstupidcupid! (Now on AO3, too!)

Arthur had always had laser focus. When he had been a child, he had been single-minded in his pursuit of all objectives. Undistractable. Maybe it had been an issue in relationships, Arthur admitted. Maybe more than one ex had, on his or her way out the door, accused him of being unable to devote the proper time and attention to anything other than his job (and had accused him of being unbearable in his refusal to make anything other than his job his top priority). Arthur hadn’t cared about any of that. His laser focus had gotten him an early graduation from high school, a full ride to college, a dazzling career in government intelligence in which he’d had top security clearance, and then an equally dazzling career as an excellent, wily, most-wanted dream criminal, all before the age of thirty.

A relationship had never gotten him anything.

 And then what happened was: Arthur met Eames. Eames, around whom Arthur’s storied laser focus absolutely, positively crumbled.

 It was <i>humiliating</i> to him, but from the moment he’d met Eames, he’d been <i>distracted</i>. And it took <i>nothing</i> for Eames to accomplish it. Arthur was pretty sure that Eames had once successfully distracted Arthur by deciding to breathe too loudly. But, frustratingly, if Eames was there—in the room—on a job—in the same <i>country</i>—then Arthur was distracted, was thinking about him, was wondering about him, was <i>hating him furiously</i>.

 Once they’d happened to be in the same airport, merely passing through, but Arthur had felt the weight of Eames’s presence tugging at him in the periphery, his focus on the next flight, the next gate, slipping, and then he had turned and Eames had been watching him, looking endlessly amused, because Eames probably knew very well what his effect on Arthur was.

 Eames had convinced Arthur to have a drink with him during the layover. One drink turned into four as the snowstorm that had been threatening descended upon the city and flights were delayed and delayed some more. When, eventually, they had had to part ways, Arthur had found himself bewildered by how much time had passed and he had barely <i>noticed</i>. It had been like being in a dream, like the suspension of the normal functioning of time. If Arthur hadn’t known better, he would have thought Eames was a wizard.

 Eames was a wizard in one respect, of course, and that was in his incredible talent to turn himself into someone else. Arthur tried not to be too open-mouthed in admiration of this, tried to pretend it didn’t impress him when Eames slipped in and out of personas in dreams. Arthur would have liked to do it himself, but he’d tried, and he was dismal at it. <i>You’re no good at forgetting yourself</i>, Mal had told him. <i>You’re too focused on who you are</i>.

 Focused on who he was. That was Arthur to a T. Until he’d met Eames. And then he’d seemed to focus entirely on Eames.

 Right now, at this moment, it was Eames’s fingernails Arthur was focusing on. They were long and red and one of them was tapping impatiently against the shiny lacquered hotel bar Arthur had dreamed up. Eames was half in forge mode and half out of it, his regular features with dark red lipstick and smoky eye makeup, his hands tipped by the fire engine red acrylic nails favored by the mark’s mistress, his body with a tight black cocktail dress sheathed around it. There was too much for Arthur to be distracted by in that package, so he was focusing on the fingernail tapping against the bar as they waited. The mark wasn’t behaving himself. The extractor was stubborn and wouldn’t listen to Arthur. Arthur was proving a point by refusing to help. Eames was waiting for the whole fuck-up to get itself sorted out.

 Eames said abruptly, “Darling, what is it with you and hotel bars? Really?”

 Arthur was startled by the question. He looked from Eames’s fingernails to his face. “Nothing,” he said. “The dream called for a hotel bar.”

 “The dream called for a seductive assignation. When asked to design seductive assignations, you always go with ‘hotel bar.’ I always ask myself why that is.”

 Arthur scowled. “Don’t play the psychologist. Hotel bars are easy to dream up. Generic. One looks like all the others.”

 Eames ignored him, the way Eames did. “Do you have a lot of seductive assignations in hotel bars?”

 “No,” snapped Arthur, even though he kind of did. When you didn’t really do relationships, and you traveled as much as Arthur did, mainly you met people in hotel bars.

 Eames smirked like he knew how much Arthur was lying about and tapped his fingernail on the bar.

 Arthur said, “Do you have to do that? It’s annoying.”

 Eames stopped tapping, instead holding his hand up and studying the fingernail. “The thing about a fingernail like this is…” Eames frowned at it closely, then continued, “I’m sure it leaves the most vicious scratches down one’s back.” Eames looked innocently over at Arthur. “Do you think that’s the point?”

 Arthur was not thinking about scratching his nails down Eames’s back. Or Eames scratching his nails down Arthur’s.

 Arthur said, “Get rid of those fucking fingernails. They’re annoying.”

 “You don’t like long red fingernails. Check. Tell me, darling: What do you like?”

 “<i>Focus</i>,” Arthur said. “I like <i>focus</i>.”

 Eames actually laughed at him. “You know, I don’t even think you’re lying about that,” he said fondly.

 Arthur wanted to ask why he would be lying about that, except that’s when the dream started collapsing around them.

 ***

 Months later, Arthur, packing up the PASIV after a job well done, was subjected to a young eager architect saying to him, “Hey, you’re friends with Eames, right?”

 “No,” Arthur denied shortly.

 “Oh,” said the architect, face falling. “I thought you knew him.”

 “I know him. We’re not friends.”

 “Whatever,” said the architect, like that was just semantics. “Did you hear what happened to the last job he did, out of Rio?”

 Arthur’s movements slowed. “That job’s not done. They weren’t doing the extraction for another week.”

 The architect gave him a look, like it was curious that Arthur knew that. “Well, while you were being fussy and checking to make sure everyone had come out of the Somnacin okay, I got a text from Joelle and she is <i>pissed</i>.” The architect held up the phone so Arthur could see.

 Joelle was the extractor Eames had been working with. Arthur had met her only once, and been unimpressed. Her text to the architect was <i>fuck fuck fuck fuck</i>.

 Arthur drew his eyebrows together. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 The architect shrugged. “Don’t know. Thought maybe you had heard from Eames about it. That’s why I was asking.”

 “No,” Arthur said. “Eames is fine. No problems. Check your bank account, I’ll send the shares out as soon as I’m clear of the country.”

 Arthur turned and walked out of the warehouse calmly, PASIV in hand, and pretended that his heart wasn’t pounding out of his chest. He got into his rental car and drove it away from the warehouse but he could barely focus on the traffic rules and instead he pulled over and texted Eames. <i>You okay?</i> It was an out-of-the-blue text, and Eames would probably have no idea what to make of it. Or Eames would know exactly what to make of it, which might almost be worse.

 At any rate, Arthur got to the airport and got on his plane and tried not to worry about the fact that Eames hadn’t texted back. There was no need to worry about that. They were separated by multiple time zones. And it wasn’t like they really ever texted each other anyway. Eames was probably so bewildered he didn’t even know how to respond.

 Arthur tried to focus on distributing the shares properly and almost sent three hundred thousand dollars to entirely the wrong bank account. The extractor would not have been pleased.

 ***

 Arthur dragged himself to the hotel where he had planned to hide for the night and showered and crawled into bed and told himself to focus on falling asleep. There was no reason to be lying awake staring at the ceiling worrying about Eames. <i>Just go to sleep</i>, he told himself firmly.

 And then, an hour later, <i>Fuck it</i>, and got out of bed and threw on jeans and a t-shirt and went downstairs to the bar. Anything was better than lying in his bed worrying, <i>like an idiot</i>.

 It was late, and the bar was mostly deserted. A couple practically sitting in each other’s laps was purring at each other over martinis at a corner table. A woman at the end of the bar looked up at him as he slid into the seat three seats down but went back to the book she was reading, apparently not interested.

 Not that Arthur was looking for a seductive assignation.

 The bartender was down near where the woman was, doing something with glasses. He said to Arthur, “Be right with you,” and went back to what he was doing.

 Arthur leaned his head in his hands and pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed. Somewhere in the background the hotel was piping in nondescript piano music.

 “What can I get you?” asked the bartender.

 Arthur lifted his head to answer.

 Eames beat him to it. “He’ll have a glass of pinot noir.” Eames slid into the seat next to Arthur. “I’ll have a scotch, neat.”

 The bartender looked at Arthur, probably to see if he consented to this choice of drink.

 Arthur couldn’t consent to anything because he was too busy gaping at Eames, so the bartender eventually went away.

 Eames looked at Arthur and smiled. He looked exhausted, and the smile looked like it took the last vestiges of energy out of him. Arthur had the ridiculous impulsive desire to cuddle him close and tell him just to go to sleep.

 “What the fuck,” Arthur said very eloquently.

 “Indeed,” said Eames. “I could say the same to you.”

 “Say the same to <i>me</i>? Why? What have I done that’s shocking? You’re fucking <i>stalking</i> me or something. How’d you know I was here?”

 Eames held up his phone, where Arthur’s text sat on it.

 “Nothing about that text told you which hotel I would be in tonight,” Arthur said. “Nothing about that text told you which <i>city</i> I would be in.”

 “Darling,” said Eames tiredly. “As if I don’t know where you are at all times.” The bartender put Eames’s scotch down in front of him and Eames contemplated it. “At most times,” he amended, and took a sip.

 “What happened on your job?” Arthur asked, ignoring that. “I heard bad things.”

 “I thought you must have. I thought that was the reason behind your text. Joelle’s an imbecile.”

 “I told you she was.”

 Eames gave him a look. “You think everyone’s an imbecile, pet, I can hardly give credence to every one of your proclamations on that front.”

 “Whatever,” said Arthur, as a dazzling comeback, into his glass of pinot noir.

 Eames leaned his elbow on the bar, propped his head in his hand, regarded Arthur. “Were you worried about me?”

 “No,” Arthur denied.

 “Then why did you send that text?”

 “I thought you might have some good gossip.”

 Eames smiled. “And I know how much you love gossip, petal.”

 “Why are you here?” asked Arthur. “You could have just texted me back, you know.” And then he wouldn’t have had to worry all flight.

 “Darling.” Eames leaned forward. “Do you know what today is?”

 “Tuesday,” said Arthur. “In this time zone.”

 Eames chuckled. “No, I mean the date.”

 “February 14,” said Arthur.

 “Right,” Eames replied slowly, looking at him curiously. “Do you know what February 14 is?”

 Arthur wondered wildly what Eames was talking about. “Is it your birthday?” he asked uncertainly.

 “No. Darling. Honestly. Sometimes I just…It’s Valentine’s Day.”

 “Oh,” said Arthur. That made sense. That wasn’t a date that was ever really relevant in Arthur’s life. “Okay.”

 Eames gave him a smile that made Arthur feel like he’d just downed a shot. His stomach went warm and tingly and his head swam a little bit. Eames said, “Alright, gorgeous, I can see I have to spell this out for you.” Eames suddenly turned Arthur’s chair so Arthur was facing him, put his hands familiarly on Arthur’s hips, like they’d been made for just that purpose, said, “I was wondering if you would like to be my valentine.”

 Arthur stared at him, feeling oddly short of breath. He’d never been anyone’s valentine before. “What does that entail?” he asked.

 Eames gave him a crooked smile. “Let’s start with sex.”

 ***

 Afterward, Arthur lay on his back with Eames’s right hand caught between Arthur’s two hands, studying Eames’s fingers closely.

 “Mmph,” Eames said into his pillow. “I got a manicure just for you. I know how you have strong opinions on fingernails.”

 “I don’t,” Arthur said, but kissed the fingernail on Eames’s index finger anyway. Then he looked at Eames. “You got a manicure for me? You knew you were going to come and see me?”

 Eames turned his head so Arthur could see him, smiled at him. “Eventually. Best to always be prepared. Then my job went all to hell, and you sent that text, and it was Valentine’s Day, and I knew where you were.”

 “How’d you know I’d be in the hotel bar, though?” said Arthur.

 “Lucky guess. It’s where you like to go for seductive assignations. And, I hoped, to worry tenderly over me.”

 “Fuck you,” Arthur said, and shoved him playfully.

 Eames laughed. “If you weren’t in the bar, I was going to pretend to be room service to get in here.”

 “I probably would have shot you.”

 “Probably,” Eames agreed.

 “And what if I had had somebody in here with me?”

 “Then I probably would have shot <i>them</i>,” said Eames, and rolled his way on top of Arthur.

 Arthur let Eames’s weight slowly adjust over him, letting it press him into the mattress. He said, “Tell me what happened on the job with Joelle.”

 “Now, darling,” said Eames, disentangling his hand from Arthur’s and putting it to good use. “That can wait until later. For now: <i>focus</i>.”