#couldn’t stop thinking about this since i saw charles portrait

[d0d0-b0i]

you know he’d do this

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Here Is Gone - Charlie Weasley

A/N: ahhhh xD I am back, baby! as promised here is our winner, Mr. Charlie Weasley! :D I hope you loves liked it! this turned out suuuuuper long so :)  also, we are all going to pretend that Sirius and Remus are a lot older in this fic (like Molly’s age) because they have a daughter that is Charlie’s age AND Bill never worked in Egypt he always stayed at Gringotts!

Request -  Anonymous asked: Hi, love! I saw you wanted some angsty Charlie request, and although I'm not so good at coming up with angsty ideas I'll try... How about Charlie and you are best friends at Hogwarts, both pining for each other but neither says nothing, so when you graduate Charlie goes to Romania and you stay there, so don't see each other again for years. When he comes home, you are engaged to someone else, but you both still like each other. Okay, I don't know if that makes any sense at all and you can ignore it 🙈 Also, if you decide to write it, you can make the ending whatever you want (I love a happy ending, but you choose). Thank you ❤️

Warnings: wolfstar!daughter! this is a bit angsty but Bill is here to diffuse the tension xD jealous!Charlie, reader cheats on boyfriend with Charlie (one kiss) and please let me know if I missed anything! 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :D gif isn’t mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Here Is Gone

And I want to get free, talk to me I can feel you falling And I wanted to be all you need Somehow here is gone

You weren’t sure what was the weirdest part of coming back to your childhood home. That your father hadn’t taken down the portrait of your stupid grandma. That it was now invaded by members of the order. Or…

“Love?”

Five years. It had been five years since you heard that nickname. Nobody else called you that. You made sure of it because that nickname was reserved for him. You slowly turned around, holding on to your mug to make your hand stop shaking and there he was.

“Charlie” you smiled. You always smiled when you saw Charlie.

He looked the same. But not really. He looked absolutely enthralling. His fiery red hair was longer than when you last saw him and tied in a small bun with some loose strands. There were burn marks on his (very) muscular arms and several tattoos were visible, peeking from under his shirtsleeves and collar. His eyes were the same deep blue eyes you loved so much. And now, the top of his face was covered in freckles, but the bottom part was decorated with a lazy beard.

You didn’t know it was possible. You couldn’t understand how your heart still fell to your stomach and your knees went weak just by looking at him, flashing you that bright smile he always had when he looked at you.

“Hello, sunshine” he said, opening his arms to you. “Don’t I get a hug?”

“Of course, you get a hug” you smiled, walking closer to him. You were going to wrap your arms around his waist but his arms quickly wrapped around yours and lifted you up, twirling you around, making your mug fall out of your hand and break on the floor.

“Shit! I’m sorry, love” he said, pointing his wand at your mug and fixing it in no time, placing it on the counter. “Please don’t tell your dad I broke your favorite mug” he chuckled, making you do the same.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Charlie” you smiled, feeling horrible at the fact that the word ‘love’ almost came out of your mouth so casually.

“It’s been so long, my little Hungarian Horntail” he laughed.

“Seriously? It’s been five years, Charles, I think we can retire that nickname” you smiled nervously, hating how much you had always loved that nickname too.

“No, never. That is the best way to describe you” he smiled, placing his hand on your cheek. He felt his heart racing as fast as it did every single time he saw you. He hadn’t felt that in five years and when Bill told him that they would be seeing you, he was 100% certain his feelings would come back. Well, not really because they never left. But this time, he was not going to let you go again. “I’ve missed you so much” he whispered.

The words were stuck in your throat. You wanted to say them out loud but something wasn’t letting you. You sighed in relief when you were quickly interrupted by your other favorite Weasley.

“CASSIOPEIA!” Bill burst into the room, pulling you away from Charlie and wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug like he always did. You couldn’t even protest at the fact that he still used your stupid middle name, which you hated. And Bill knew he was the only one that could get away with it. Other than your parents when they were reprimanding you for something.

“William” you laughed, trying to unglue yourself from him. Since he used your middle name, you used his full name, which he didn’t particularly love. “I kind of… need to breathe” you smiled.

“Oh, Merlin, I haven’t seen you in forever!” he said, finally putting you down.

“I literally saw you like two weeks ago” you laughed.

“You look bloody amazing!”

“Thanks, Bill, so do you” you smiled. “B-both of you” you said, turning to Charlie.

“Oh look, honey. The Weasleys are here” Sirius said, walking into the kitchen with his husband following him. “Broken any windows yet, boys?”

“Sirius” Remus warned him. “I’m sure these Weasleys are old enough now to not break any more of our windows” he smiled. “Hello Bill, Charlie” he smiled. 

You noticed Charlie widening his eyes at you and then at your now-fixed mug, making you laugh a little.

“Mr. Lupin” Bill and Charlie nodded at him. “M-Mr. Black” they said, looking at your other dad. You knew they were still a bit afraid of him. Or maybe a lot. “Sorry about that, again” Bill smiled nervously.

“It’s okay, boys” Sirius smirked at them. “It’s been a very long time since you’ve broken something of ours” he said, glaring a little bit at Charlie.

“Dad!” you rolled your eyes.

“Sirius, love, come help me in the other room” Remus quickly pulled him away and you thanked him with your eyes. Bill quickly followed them, nodding his head towards you to Charlie without you noticing.

“So, I see your father still hates me” Charlie told you.

“He doesn’t hate you” you chuckled.

“He doesn’t love me” he argued.

“Don’t take it personally. He doesn’t love anybody who’s not my dad, me, or Harry” you told them.

“Fair enough” he chuckled, walking closer to you. “I was wondering if… uh-” he said, suddenly getting nervous. “We could talk?”

“Talk?” you asked. “About what?” you smiled nervously.

“W-well-”

“Hey, there you are pumpkin” Charlie felt your hand fall from his the minute a guy stepped into the kitchen. A very handsome man, with dark hair, blue eyes, and about as tall as Charlie, made his way towards you and kissed your cheek, hugging you to him, and making Charlie’s stomach drop. “Hi, you must be one of Bill’s brothers” he said, offering his hand to Charlie.

“Oh, darling” you smiled nervously and then looked at Charlie. “Um, this is Charlie” you corrected him. “Charlie, this is Nicholas” you said, looking back at the redhead. “My boyfriend” you informed him.

“Oh, right! The one that works with dragons” he smiled at the redhead, as Charlie shook his hand, still dumbfounded. “She has told me all about you and your brothers, but it might take me some time to get it correctly” he chuckled.

“R-right. No worries, mate, everyone gets us mixed up” Charlie said, still looking between the two of you. “Wait ‘till you meet Fred and George, they’re twins” he laughed slightly.

“Sounds fun” Nicholas smiled at you, kissing your head and pulling you closer by your waist. You quickly looked at Charlie and noticed his ears were getting the same color as his hair and beard. He was angry. “Your father says the meeting’s about to start, pumpkin” he told you.

“Oh, r-right. I’ll be right there, I’m just getting some tea” you said, motioning to your empty mug on the counter.

“I’ll save you a seat” he smiled before he gave you a small peck on the lips before he left and you smiled nervously. Why were you nervous? Why did you feel the need to explain this to Charlie? You didn’t owe him an explanation.

“So… pumpkin” Charlie smirked at you.

“Don’t be an asshole, Weasley” you glared at him as you started preparing your tea.

“I’m not being an asshole” he defended himself. “I just… thought you hated pumpkin” he said as he walked through your kitchen as if it was his own house and he grabbed the milk to bring it to you. “Milk and no sugar. Right, love?”

“Um… yes, thanks” you said, feeling your heart flutter at the thought that he still remembered. “And for your information, I don’t hate pumpkin!”

“You hate pumpkin juice, pumpkin pastries, and even that princess from the muggle story your dad used to read to you where her carriage turns into a pumpkin” he laughed.

“Well, I don’t mind the word pumpkin” you informed him as you finished making your tea and you started walking out of the kitchen.

“Mhm, sure you don’t” Charlie smirked to himself, following you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was currently day five. The day when the ‘kids’ (making you feel like 100 years old) left for school. Each passing day was worse than the last. You tried your hardest to avoid him. You really did. But it was easier said than done. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Your father told you that Charlie was going to stay in Romania and recruit foreign wizards to join the Order. But at the last minute, he changed his mind. And you knew exactly what that meant. Bill told Charlie you were coming, and then, suddenly, Charlie was coming.

During the days, you tried to keep yourself busy and did whatever you could not to be in any room alone with Charlie. Because, if you were being honest, you didn’t trust yourself around him. You were with Nicholas. And you loved him. You were sure. On paper, he was probably the best boyfriend you could ask for. But Charlie had this stupid magnetic force that made you want to go back to him. Because that’s what he told you when the two of you went your separate ways. ‘We will always make our way back to each other.’ And now here you were. And you were with someone else. And you felt extremely guilty for the way your heart did a leap every time you saw Charlie. You hated the fact that you felt at home when he hugged you or when he smiled at you.

And at night. That was the worst time. You were staying in your old childhood bedroom and you knew Charlie was just a room away. With Bill. Like they shared when they spent their summers with you. And he would always sneak out of his room and come over to yours to spend the nights with you. And it made you sick to your stomach that some part of you still kept eyeing the door. Waiting for him. Not only because Nicholas was lying next to you. But because Charlie was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for five years.

When you walked into the room where today’s meeting was being held, you saw that your seat was between Nicholas and Charlie.

“Alright, now that we’re all here. We can begin” your father, Remus, started.

You tried extremely hard to concentrate on what your father was saying. You really did. But it was very hard when Charlie ‘casually’ threw his arm on the back of your seat. He was closer to you than Nicholas was and you started feeling extremely guilty for just wanting to lean into Charlie’s shoulder. Like you always did.

While your father kept explaining about the first order and what the ideas for this one were, Charlie finally removed his arm from behind you and placed it on his leg. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hating the fact of how nervous Charlie still made you. But, surprisingly enough, Charlie wasn’t even your worst problem. It was Bill. The fact that Bill was sitting in front of you, with a look you knew all too well wasn’t helping.

“Sweetheart, did you hear what your father said?” you heard your other father snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Uh, what? Um, sorry I was distracted” you smiled nervously.

“Really? By what? Care to share this with the rest of the room?” Bill asked, fascinated, resting his head on his hand and you glared at him.

“Yeah. I was distracted by that stupid ugly fang in your ear” you smirked.

“Kids!” Mrs. Weasley warned the two of you, knowing how quickly you could get back into your old antics with Bill.

“Ah, you leave my fang out of this, Cassie” he laughed, making you roll your eyes.

“Cassie?” Nicholas asked, confused.

“That’s… uh your girlfriend’s middle name, mate” Charlie said as if it was obvious.

“No, I know that” you saw him glaring a little at Charlie. “But… she hates it when people call her that” he said.

“I do” you intervened. “Bill just doesn’t care” you informed him.

“Wrong! She gave me permission to be the only one to call her that” he smirked. “Isn’t that right, little Horntail?” he mocked you and you heard Charlie laugh next to you while Nicholas looked confused between them and you.

“WILLIAM!” you said, getting up. Could I see you for a moment?” you asked as politely as you could. You saw your fathers share a look between them but none of them said anything so you walked out of the room with Bill behind you. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing” he shrugged innocently.

“Bill!”

“Why are you with him?” he blurted out.

“Excuse me?”

Bill knew about your relationship with Nicholas. Actually, you had met him through Bill since Nicholas worked at Gringotts. He had never seemed happy about you two being together and you assumed he had told Charlie, but apparently, he never did.

“You heard me. Why are you still with Nicholas?”

“What do you mean still? Because I love him!”

“Do you? Really? Because I honestly cannot think of two more opposite people in this world!”

“Yes! Really! How is this any of your business?”

“I have heard you like a billion times, whenever someone asks you about him, like my mum, saying how lucky you are to be with him” he said.

“I am lucky” you argued.

“Right, lucky, not happy” he said, making you frown your eyebrows at your best friend. You sometimes hated how much Bill could read you. “You know? When you have to remind yourself how lucky you are over and over again, it’s because you’re afraid to ask yourself how happy you truly are” he told you.

“That’s not true” you argued, nervously.

“Isn’t it? How happy are you, Cass?”

“I know that Nicholas has never been your favorite person, but I am plenty happy, thank you very much!”

“You sound so convincing” he said, sarcastically “Look, love” he said getting serious, making you pay closer attention since he rarely talked to you like that. “I am not saying this to be an asshole to you or your boyfriend. But I have known you for a very long time and I love you, and I care about you, and I just want what’s best for you.”

“Bill, why are you even doing this?”

“Because I love you, and I care about you. And I have seen how much this relationship has changed you. I’m not saying is a bad thing, but each day you become a completely different person! I know you think that being with Nicholas is the right thing to do because he’s like a grown-up that has his shit together-”

“He’s like your age” you interrupted.

“But is that what you really want? I have heard him many times referring to your job as a hobby. A job that I know you love, and I know that because you gave up going to Romania with Charlie so you could pursue it. You rarely come to the Burrow anymore, do you have any idea how much everyone missed you? The twins were so excited to see you and you didn’t even play one stupid prank with them! You never say no to them, especially when they prank Charlie!” he reminded you. “Look, if you can honestly tell me that Nicholas is the man of your life and you are the happiest woman on Earth being this way, I’ll back down but we both know that the man that you’re supposed to be with, was sitting on your other side, don’t we?”

“Hey kids, we kind of need you back in there because your father wants…” Sirius said, walking out and looking at you. “Honestly, I don’t know what he wanted. I didn’t pay attention, just come back, okay?”

“Sure, Mr. Black” Bill smiled before he walked back in. You were about to follow him but your dad stopped you.

“Princess, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, dad” you said, trying to smile at him.

“Are you sure? Did the Weasley boy do something? Because-”

“No dad, Bill didn’t do anything” you rolled your eyes.

“Okay” he said, still hugging you. “You let me know if one of them is bugging you-”

“Dad!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You were exhausted and you spent the rest of the day avoiding everyone, really. You just wanted to be by yourself but it was hard when your house was filled with people. So, you hid in your fathers’ bedroom, knowing nobody would go there. When it was late, you finally went over to your room, hoping to find some peace, but when you opened the door you saw candles and rose petals everywhere, as Nicholas stood in the middle. Shit. You felt your stomach get twisted in knots.

“Um… honey, what’s going on?” you chuckled nervously.

“Hey, pumpkin” he said, as you walked closer to him. “I know that you have been stressed these couple of days and I wanted to do something special” he smiled.

“Oh, that’s… very sweet of you” you said, walking closer to him.

“Also, I kind of had a whole thing planned for our anniversary a few weeks ago but, then you had to go back to work and I didn’t get to do it there, and then we came here so… I thought there’s no better time than this” he said, starting to kneel down.

Oh no.

“Um, N-Nicholas,-”

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asked, smiling at you and getting out a small ring box, opening it.

“I- uh” you sighed. “I don’t know what to say” you admitted.

“This is kind of the part where you say yes” he chuckled nervously.

“Honey” you said, kneeling down to his level. “I love you very much, it’s just… this is too much right now” you tried to reason with him.

“Why? I can’t think of a better time” he insisted.

“Nicholas, I… I don’t know if I’m ready for such a big step” you told him.

“So… you’re saying no?”

“N-no, I just… I guess I need to think about it” you told him.

“You need to think about it?” he asked a little upset. “We’ve been together for two years!” he said, closing the ring box and standing up. “Is it because of Weasley?”

“W-what?”

“Bill’s brother, the one that works with dragons” he continued. Maybe you hadn’t been as subtle as you thought you were.

“Charlie has nothing to do with this!”

“Doesn’t he? Do you think I haven’t noticed the way he looks at you? How he talks to you, the little nickname him and Bill have for you?”

“Bill calls me Cassiopeia! That is my least favorite name” you argued.

“You don’t even let me call you that! But you don’t seem to mind when Bill does-”

“I’ve known Bill my entire life! He’s like my annoying old brother!”

“And what about Charlie?”

“What about Charlie?”

“What went on with you two?”

“I told you we dated in school and then he left for Romania!”

“And that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it!” you lied.

“There’s nothing else there?”

“No!”

“So, why won’t you marry me?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “Is that what this is about? Are you asking me to marry you because you what? You feel threatened by Charlie?”

“That’s not what I said-”

“What is this, some sort of possessive thing that you need me to flaunt a ring around so everyone knows that I’m yours?”

“How can you say that? I want to marry you because I love you! And I want to be with you!”

“And I told you a million times that I am not ready to get married right now! I told you I love my job and I have so many opportunities now where I can travel or even move-”

“Well, yes, but we both know that once we get married and have kids your job will be more like a hobby” he chuckled. You felt your entire heart shatter as you kept repeating Bill’s words in your head. ‘We both know that the man that you’re supposed to be with, was sitting on your other side, don’t we?’

“Nicholas” you said, quietly. “I love you, but I can’t give you an answer right now” you told him. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

“Fine” he said, grabbing the small box and placing it in your hand. “Then, think about it okay? I love you and I want us to be together” he insisted.

“Okay. I will think about it” you said, as he stood to give you a peck on the lips before he made his way over to your bathroom.

As soon as the door closed, you grabbed one of your sweaters, which just happened to be Charlie’s Christmas jumper you had stolen at some point, and you made your way down to the kitchen to clear your mind. You were glad that it was empty because it was already a bit late and you started making yourself some tea. When you sat on the kitchen table you heard some footsteps coming towards you and you sighed.

“Nicholas, I don’t really want to talk right now-” you stopped when you noticed someone else standing there.

“Not Nicholas, love” Charlie smiled sweetly at you. “You alright?”

“I’m fine” you said, looking at your hands as the kettle announced that the water was ready. You were going to stand up but Charlie quickly stopped you.

“Let me” he said, making his way around your kitchen as he brought two cups of tea. Yours with milk and no sugar. You smiled grabbing the mug in your hands. “So… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing-”

“Love I have known you long enough to know that you can’t sleep when you’re upset” he told you. “Remember how you always sneaked into my dorm when you couldn’t?” he smirked.

“I just… have a lot on my mind, I guess” you said, quietly, taking a sip of your perfectly prepared tea.

“So, are you going to tell me about it or are you just going to keep avoiding me?”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you?”

“Really? This is the first conversation we’ve had since I got here” he told you. “Come on, love, please stop pushing me away” he said, placing his hand on yours. When he did, he noticed something under your arm. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Oh, n-nothing” you said, trying to keep your arm in place but Charlie pulled it up, revealing the ring box.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, quietly. You felt your heart racing.

“Charlie I uh-”

“You’re getting married?” he asked, grabbing the box and smirking. But you could see in his eyes that he was far from happy about this. “Congratulations, Mrs. Pumpkin” he mocked you. You glared at him, grabbing the box from his hand.

“You’re an asshole” you said, starting to get up but he quickly followed and pulled you back.

“No, come on, love. I’m only joking” he chuckled.

“Well, it is not funny!”

“Fine. Why are you so upset? Aren’t you marrying Mr. Perfect?”

“Why do you even care about this? Is not like you have any idea what’s going on since you have been away for the past five years!”

“That is not fair! We both made that decision!”

“Exactly! So why do you even care if I am with someone else?”

“Because you can’t marry him!”

“Oh, really?” you asked starting to breathe heavily. “And why not?”

“Look, even if I am not yours, you are still my best friend and I am allowed to care about you and say something when you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life!”

“Excuse me?”

“I did not leave you here for you to follow you to get your fucking dream job and then throw it all away when someone asks you to be his trophy wife!”

“How dare you, Charles!? How can you claim you know me so well and then assume that’s what I’m gonna do!” you snapped.

“That’s how you’re acting! Whenever you’re around him you’re an entirely different person!”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t end up together!”

“Oh, believe me, love. Best idea I ever made!” he snapped at you.

“And for the record, Bill is my best friend” you smirked evilly at him and he gasped offended.

“Take that back!”

“No” you shrugged and he started slowly walking closer to you.

“Take.It.Back.” he said with his deep voice between clenched teeth as you bumped into the counter behind you and he placed his hands on each side of you.

You were no longer able to ignore this. You felt how heavy your heart was pounding and you knew Charlie was the only one that made it beat like this.

“Make me” was the only thing that you were able to say before Charlie grabbed your face between his hands and he pulled you to his lips.

When his lips touched yours, the world seemed to melt away around you. Nothing mattered. Just you and him. His hands quickly started roaming around your body bringing you closer as he started deepening the kiss. It was like the first time he kissed you. Like the first time that he said he loved you. Like the first time that the two of you had sex. Nothing had changed. You couldn’t keep on denying it any longer. Your heart belonged to Charlie Weasley. You belonged with Charlie Weasley.

But then, you felt a pang of guilt pull at your heart. This was wrong. You were with Nicholas. Nicholas who had just asked you to marry him. Nicholas who was upstairs, waiting for you in your room. So, you pushed Charlie away.

“L-love” he said, breathing heavily.

“No!” you said, pushing yourself away from him and he finally let go. “I c-can’t do this, this isn’t right” you said, starting to feel sick to your stomach. You were a horrible person. “Fuck, what have I done?”

“Love, look at me” he tried, getting closer to you.

“No, don’t get near me!” you cried. “I can’t- I can’t think straight when you’re around me!” you said stepping closer to the entrance. “I need to leave” you muttered to yourself, running out of the kitchen and upstairs.

“Fuck” Charlie muttered to himself before he punched the counter.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Hi, bug” you turned around to see one of your fathers, Remus, staring at you through his window.

“Hi dad” you smiled weakly as he climbed through the window and sat down next to you.

“What are you doing out here? Hiding?”

“No” you chuckled.

“You do know this is where you hid every time you stole the chocolate chip cookies, right?”

“Right” you smiled, looking down at yourself.

“What’s going on, bug?”

“Dad… do you think I'm a bad person?”

“What? Of course not, love why would you ask me that?”

“I did a terrible thing” you said, feeling tears streaming down your face.

“Sweetheart, whatever it is, you are not a bad person and your father and I love you very much” he insisted.

“Nicholas proposed to me” you said, taking out the small box and showing him the ring.

“And… you’re not happy about that?” he asked.

“I don’t know! I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t want to get married right now” you told him. “There are still so many things I want to do and so many places I want to go and…” you cried.

“You told him no?”

“I told him I’d think about it” you explained. “And he said it was fine, but I could tell he was upset” you said. “And so I said I needed some space and I went down to the kitchen to make some tea and then I ran into Charlie and I-” you took a deep breath. “We kissed” you told him.

“You kissed Charlie Weasley?!” the two of you turned around to find Sirius standing at the window.

“DAD!” you complained.

“Sirius, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough” he said, climbing outside and sitting on your other side.

“Dad, please don’t make me feel worse than I already do” you begged him.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing? Are you not happy with Nicholas?”

“I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Sirius” Remus warned.

“You two have been together for two years now and you seem perfect! You are lucky to have a guy like that!”

“See, that’s the thing! I don’t think I am! I thought I was and then Bill started saying how if I have to remind myself how lucky I am, it’s because I am afraid to ask myself how happy I really am! And then… I can’t believe I got Bill stuck in my head! But he was right! I started to question how happy I really am and I realized how much I have changed since I have been with Nicholas, and… this isn’t me! I haven’t felt like myself in so long! Since… since I was with Charlie! And so, that’s why I told him I would think about it and then I ran into Charlie and he started saying that I shouldn’t marry Nicholas and I got mad at him and we started arguing and then… we kissed and now I don’t know what to do!” you cried as Remus hugged you closer to him. “Why can't I stop thinking about Charlie?”

“Because you're scared of the first real adult relationship with the perfect man” Sirius told you.

“Or because you and Charlie still have a special connection and you still love him” Remus said, widening his eyes at his husband.

“Honey, she’s with Nicholas. We like Nicholas. Stop defending Charlie!”

“Charlie would die for our daughter, and you know that!”

“Can you guys not talk about me as if I’m not here-?”

“Why are you rooting for him? He broke our girl’s heart! And I will be dammed if I let him do it again!” Sirius snapped, making you look at your dad.

He looked defeated. And then it clicked, why your father never liked Charlie. He didn’t seem to mind him when you were in school. Only the ‘hurt my little girl and I’ll kill you’ way. But after Charlie left for Romania, you came back home and stayed with your fathers for weeks. And you had cried every single day.

“Dad… Charlie didn’t break my heart” you said, pulling out of Remus’ embrace. “We both decided to break up. I didn’t want to stop him from following his dreams of working with dragons. And I was going to go with him. But he wouldn’t let me because he knew I wanted to stay here to follow my dream” you explained. “He said that if we were meant to be together we would always make our way back to each other” you told him. “I know you don’t like him and I know that you saw how hurt I was… but that wasn’t Charlie’s fault” you insisted.

“You see, Sirius? Charlie did everything he could so our girl would follow her dreams and do what she wanted instead of following him all the way to Romania. I’m sure you would have hated that” he said as Sirius hugged you.

“Of course, I would have hated that! He would have torn my only daughter away from me” he said, kissing your head.

“See? So, it is actually thanks to Charlie that she didn’t leave. So maybe cut the boy some slack” Remus said.

“Fine” Sirius said begrudgingly. “I guess… he’s not that bad” he admitted as Remus hugged the both of you.

“Can we go back to my problem please?” you said, pushing both of them away. “I still have no idea what to do! I feel like a horrible person!”

“Sweetheart, you’re not a horrible person” Sirius insisted. “As much as it pains me to say it… I guess… I kind of understand why you still feel drawn to Charlie” he sighed. “And… you should always be able to feel like yourself with the person you love” he told you.

“You’re going to have to make a decision, honey” Remus told you.

“They are both great guys but so different! How did you guys do it?”

“I’m not gonna be any help here from the minute I saw your dad I was done for” Sirius smiled at Remus. “I knew that I had met the person that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and I did everything I could to make him as happy as he made me” he admitted.

“That was really sweet, dad” you smiled at Sirius before you turned to your other father. “What about you?”

“Well, first of all, I’m a sucker for guys who say things like that” Remus admitted. “And… he always helps me find the fun in life” he smiled at his husband.

“Look, sweetheart, you should just ignore everything we said and try to imagine your life with each of them and… if there’s one of the two that you just can’t live without” Sirius told you.

“Well…” you said, taking a deep breath. “With Nicholas, I guess I see a big beautiful house lined with books and interesting people coming in and out, raising kids with a brilliant man” you said with a soft smile. “And with Charlie…” you said as your parents noticed your smile getting bigger. “I see us in a cute little place that needs a ton of work” you chuckled. “And we may not have all the nicest things but… there's music and laughing and I know I can always be myself and he’ll always love me for it” you finished with a few more tears running down your cheeks. “And as much as I love Nicholas, I can see myself living without him but… I don’t think I can picture my life without Charlie” you admitted.

“Well, sweetheart, I think you just answered your question” Remus said, as he and Sirius wrapped you in a hug.

“And we support you no matter what” Sirius assured you, kissing your head. “We just want you to be happy” he said.

“I know” you smiled back at them as you stood up. “Thank you” you said, kissing each of them on the cheek. “I love you guys” you told them, moving over to the window.

Remus turned back to hug Sirius closer to him. “That was very mature of you, Pads” he said, kissing his temple.

“Please, Moony, you act as if I am still the same immature boy from school” he laughed.

“You do know that since she is choosing Charlie and she can now easily move in her job, there’s a chance this might end up with her moving to Romania, right?”

“WHAT!? I never agreed to that!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Hi” you said, walking inside your room, and finding Nicholas sitting on your window nook.

“Hey” he smiled sadly at you. “I take it you couldn’t sleep either?”

“No” you admitted. “Um… I think… we need to talk” you said, grabbing the small ring box and placing it on your bed. You saw the look on Nicholas’ face and you were certain he knew what was coming was not good.

After about two hours, and the hardest conversation you had ever had since saying goodbye to Charlie, Nicholas was done packing all of his things and he walked towards the door. You had tears streaming down your face and he stopped in front of you, cupping your cheek one last time.

“I’m really sorry” you repeated. “I want you to know that I really did love you” you assured him.

“I know” he smiled like the gentleman he always was as his thumb brushed your cheek. “Just… not as much as him, right?” he said, kissing your temple. “I loved you too” he said before he opened the door and exited the room.

You followed him down the stairs where you found your fathers waiting for you. Acting as if they hadn’t just been outside your door, listening to your entire conversation.

Nicholas smiled awkwardly at them as he made his way out. “Uh, thanks for everything Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black” he told them.

“Take care, kid” Sirius told him.

"Keep in touch" Remus said, kindly before the door closed.

"I don't really see us keeping in touch" Sirius told his husband as you walked down the stairs. “How are you feeling, bug?”

“I’ve been better” you admitted, wiping away the remaining tears on your cheeks and yo sat down at the sofa. Your fathers quickly sitting next to you.

“You did the right thing, sweetheart” Remus said, kissing your head. “We’re really proud of you” he told you.

“We love you, bug” Sirius added before the three of you heard the door burst open and you saw Bill and Charlie walking in, laughing about something.

Their laughter quickly died down when they spotted you. You knew they were a bit drunk. Most likely, Charlie told Bill about what happened and Bill’s solution was to go out and drink.

“Boys” Sirius said, standing up. “Just coming in, are you?” he smirked.

“Y-you’re not gonna tell our mum, right?” Bill asked, a bit worried.

“Well-” Sirius started.

“No, we’re not” Remus said, standing up as well. Charlie’s eyes were glued to you. And your dad noticed. “Why don’t we make some coffee?” he suggested pulling his husband and the oldest Weasley with him into the kitchen. “Let these two talk” he said, ignoring the complaints from both of them.

“Hi” Charlie said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of you.

“Hi” you smiled at him as you tried to wipe some new tears away.

“Are you okay? Why are you crying?” he asked, worriedly, kneeling in front of you and placing his big hand on your cheek, making you smile sweetly at him.

“I’m okay, Charlie” you assured him.

“Love, I am really sorry for what I did” he started. “And for what I said, I had no right to talk to you that way and I had no right to kiss you, I know that I just-” he sighed.

“Charlie” you started but he kept rambling on.

“I was just scared because you are my favorite person in the entire world and not a day goes by that I don’t regret leaving you. I should have stayed here with you! I should have fought for you! Because I love you!”

“Charlie-!”

“I know I have no right to dump all of this on you right now, but I at least owe you the truth. And the truth is that I am completely, madly, and hopelessly in love with you Cassiopeia Lupin-Black” he said, making you glare at him a little. “I have been my entire life. And I know I may not be able to give you the life that Nicholas can give you but, I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone and I promise to try and make you as happy as you make me if you let me and-”

You cut him off by leaning in closer and placing your lips softly against his. Charlie was taken aback for a moment before he wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you closer as you pulled away.

“I broke up with Nicholas” you told him.

“Y-you did?” he asked with hope waving over his heart as you nodded.

“I told him I couldn’t marry him” you explained. “A-and I love you so much, Charlie, it’s just…I just got out of a relationship. I’m a complete mess right now” you cried, smiling at him.

“I love messes. We can take this as slow as you need to, my little Horntail” he said, brushing your tears away as you chuckled. “So… that means that…”

"It's you" you said with a weary smile as Charlie wrapped his arms around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. "It's always been you, love" you told him, making his heart race faster when you called him that.

“Fucking finally!” Bill shouted.

The two of you turned around to see him at the entrance of the kitchen standing with Sirius and Remus before they disappeared into the room.

“We… kinda have to face them now, don’t we?” Charlie asked you, standing up and pulling you with him.

“We kinda do” you said, kissing his cheek.

“Are your dads gonna kill me?” he asked as you held his hand and started pulling him towards the kitchen.

“No” you assured him. “I promise they won’t” you smiled. You were about to enter the kitchen but Charlie pulled you to him once more, wrapping one arm around your waist and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “What?”

“I told you we will always make our way back to each other, my love” he smiled, kissing your temple. You smiled placing your head on his chest feeling completely content in his arms. This felt like home. You had never been more certain to have made the right decision. “I love you” he whispered.

“I love you too” you smiled, looking at him.

“My little Hungarian Horntail” he chuckled.

“I hate you again!”

“You love me!”

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: ahhh I missed writing for Charlie so much xD I hope you all liked it! let me know what you think! Spencer’s coming up next! 

[lucidpantone]

Preview: The three sided king

Yes I am still writing this fic and this chapter is almost done. Its super long chapter but here is a preview.

Incase you need to a recap of where we left off: Published Chapters

Aquarias 1470

He is standing on the axis.

Barely visible between the white florets.

It’s soothing on the inside.

Like a concentrated dosage of vitamins and minerals.

The walls surrounding him are lacquered in a mint hue. Cool and expressive, a pigment rumored to remove free radicals from his interior.

The south wing of the palace seemed to suffice.

The Duke’s quarters were generous and ample. For all the Duke’s pomp and circumstance he actually required very little to live comfortably. He had only one request and that his chamber be adorned with white flowers at all times to quench his need to bring beauty to life via his skills on parchment.

Drawing was the only therapy that would help elucidate the Duke’s mind. It would bend time and submerge his troubled thoughts into a state of calm and as he sat in his quarters trying to unravel the enigma that caught him off guard; time got lost like a billow in a breeze and before he knew it a portrait of the prince of swords was looking back at him. Within seconds after laying eyes on the prince he had become the antioxidant for the duke’s deteriorating soul; an unforeseen remedy wrapped up in a beautiful creature with hickory ringlets that fell perfectly past his shoulders and a chocolate gaze complimented by perfectly placed laugh lines.

It’s hard to forget the moment he laid eyes on him. The smell of rain had just smacked him across the chest as he rushed up the stairs to the rotunda. The rate at which the heavens spilled their tears onto the palace courtyard matched the virago of the many scorned women Sander had left behind. As Sander greeted the Duke of Burgundy and his wife the rain began to whip around like a serpent dancing to a siren’s song and thunderclaps began to roll tide across the grey sky.A lightning fork lit up their drop back like an ominous foretelling of their preordained future but in that moment he first caught a glimpse of him and his center of gravity shifted.

His bride-to-be Mary of Burgundy had stepped forward to curtsy for her lord, revealing the prince hidden by her side. Sander instantly fixated on him.  The prince had locked his gaze onto the ground. Focusing on something Sander could not see. Sander was in dire need to see every inch of his chiseled features. Sander was discreet in trying to move his gaze from Mary to the prince but he was suddenly nervy and his suave demeanor broke for a matter of seconds when he fumbled out a high pitch overly zealous greeting, "The Prince of Swords. It's nice to make your acquaintance".

The prince broke thought and looked up at Sander with a curious expression. The prince was nothing like Sander imagined him to be. He was a living cypher. A being in need of decoding. A walking enigma. His features were tender and his eyes warm but also hard edged. The initial flicker of warmth the prince had radiated seconds before was quickly replaced by a glacial facade. The prince was cool and collected, beautiful but stone like but one thing was certain the Prince of swords was no brut he was a man capable of dancing on a knife's edge, conquering a nation, riding into battle and becoming a champion. He was much more compact than Sander had expected but in possession of a noticeably stealthy physique. Sander and the prince both got lost in each other’s gaze for a prolonged second as they shook hands when the prince’s father, the Duke of Burgundy, broke the occasion.

“Here, here. I see you have met my son, the prince of swords”

Sander threw the prince a soft smile before breaking his gaze and looking towards the fast approaching Duke Of Burgundy.

“Yes, yes I have my lord”

“Be careful with that one. I know he doesn’t look like much but blink too slow and he’ll have the dagger of Burgundy at your throat.”

As the Duke of Burgundy positioned himself horizontally to Sander’s right shoulder he preemptively began to move Sander towards the long line of courtiers waiting to introduce themselves to him with their high born titles.

Sander took two steps forward alongside the Duke but then paused and quickly turned back and headed back to prince.

It was practically a whisper, the first of many that they would exchange as Sander cloaked their exchange with a secondary handshake and said softly.

“Sander, by the way”

Robbe’s eyes grew wide and his mouth opened a bit in shock as he knew it was uncommon for Duke’s of Sander status to exchange such pleasantries amongst those unknown to their court but he reacted quickly as to not offend the Duke and matched his lords volume.

“Robbe” he sighed out softly.

Sander smiled and in that split second he saw it again. The warmth Robbe had been hiding from the rest of the world.

--

Sander snapped out of his memories and was back in his quarters surrounded by the mint hues as he heard his chambers doors being pried open.

He quickly stood up off his chair and discarded his parchment and charcoal on it.

As he walked towards the door he recognized the voice on the other side.

Charles’s voice was animating through the chamber doors as rambunctious and cavalier as always as he strolled into Sander’s hideaway.

“My lord---” Charles interrupted Sander with a palm up salute.

“I told you to call me Senne. That’s what my family calls me and you're soon to be family right?”

Sander threw Senne a half baked smile as validation and proceeded to appease his request.

“Of course, Senne.”

Senne clapped his hands together enthusiastically signaling his entourage to show Sander what he came here for.

“Ahhhh… I brought you something for tonight”, Senne called over one of his servants.

The servant laid down a strange looking object on Sander’s bed. As Sander examined it he found it quite a peculiar gift.

“A mask?” Sander questioned wiping all offense from his tone.

“Yes, You’ll be the bull tonight for our masked ball to celebrate your addition to our family.”

Senne’s tone ranged from devilish to persuasive, mercurial to Insidious but Sander knew these overt insults were merely a test of wit and dominance.

To appease the Burgundian duke Sander played coy and shot him a thankful smile and opened his arms wide as he folded them in front of himself and curtsied towards the duke and spoke clearly.

“My lord if you wish me to be the bull. Then the bull I shall be.”

“Good. I think it suits you. Makes you stand out and we wouldn’t want anyone to miss you.” Sander didn’t miss the slight dose of passive aggression laced all over Senne's voice.

“I’ll leave you one of my servants to help you get ready” Sander noted that a mid sized male stepped forward from Senne’s kings guard with large fluffy curls adorning the top of his head.

“Thank you” Sander stated.

Senne and his court began to exit the mint hue room when Senne turned around like he just remembered what he actually came to Sander’s quarters for, “Oh before I forget…. don’t indulge too much on the festivities tonight. I arranged for the Prince to show you around the grounds in the early morning”.

Sander’s ears perked up at the sheer mention of the Prince.

“I’ll be sure to behave myself sire” Sander gives Senne a light nod as Senne turns and heads toward the exit once again.

“My lord would you like help getting dressed for tonight?” Senne’s kingsmen interrupts Sander’s thoughts.

“Yes, of course. I am sorry I didn’t catch your name….”

“Younes, my lord”

“Younes, please call me Sander” Younes gave Sander a soft smile in agreement.

“You should start getting ready Sander. The masquerade ball has been planned for weeks and it's the highlight of the season. Your betrothed has been planning her outfits since it was announced.”

Oh great Sander thinks not only has he been given short notice but now he also needs to pass some predetermined litmus test that the Burgundians have surely been cooking up for him.

He’ll just rely on his bravado and dynamism to survive the occasion.

“So you don’t know what my betrothed will be wearing tonight?”

Younes gently puts his right hand over his heart and softly whispers, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy”.

Sander lets out a soft giggle.

“Ok understandable. Wouldn’t want you to break any pacts.”

“What about the Prince? Do you know what he’ll be wearing?”

“Oh of course but everyone knows that” Younes reassures.

“He’ll be the lion” Younes states matter-of-factly.

“The Prince is always the lion”

“And why is that?” Sander asks curiously.

“Because the prince has never encountered prey he couldn’t kill.There’s a reason they call him the Prince Of Swords…..Don’t let your guard down or he’ll be the death of you.”

----

The darken corridors felt like a labyrinth.

A maze of endless entry and exit points on a journey to nowhere.

The palace was a mere whirlpool of decor that captured the zeitgeist of the time.

Tapestries adorning floor to ceiling windows.

Polished stone staircases.

Portraits of past rulers and the coat of arms of the burgundian nation stapled across every possible crevice of available wall space.

Sander felt like some sort of heretic. He didn’t belong amongst these people. He gave no credence to their cause. If anything he was the antistasis to their campaign secretly lobbying for their demise and permanently obtuse to the burgundian struggle. He knew there was no permanence to this betrothal. He would never allow himself to wed a kin of the three lions. This agreement was merely for show; a pit stop till he got back to his real life.

He sauntered down the palace halls with little regard to their importance, going out of his way to belittle all the objects the burgundians treasured like some sort of ignorant dilettante.

Sander knew he merely had to survive these grasslands. Deem himself a poacher within this big cat habitat. Become merciless and when an opening presents itself, drive an arrow through the heart of a lion but first he would need to learn how not to become the prey.

He came out of nowhere.

Hidden by the cover of night.

He was observing him from the end of the long hallway. The lion standing at ready. Taking him in. He wore a burnt orange colored cape with hand etched gold trimming. His chocolate orbs the color of an afternoon sunset. His face adorning the face of a leader of the pack.

Sander just stared at him.

Curious.

Drawn in.

His feet pick up pace towards him. Completely oblivious to the fact that he himself is drench in a disguise. For tonight he is but nothing but a bull; temperamental and sinister. A green eyed monster ready to crash land on his own personal matador.

He almost reaches him and then the lion looks out to some unknown voice down the hall and runs towards it, getting lost in the sea of creatures in the throws of their festivities inside the grande ballroom.

The bull lets his instinct guide him and blurs into the terrain of blushing birds, bunny rabbits, deers and wolves all dancing in unison with one another under the twinkle of the ballroom’s candlelight incandescents.

For one night only mere mortals have morphed into beast, hounds and the feather habitants of a wild life Archipelago. The bull weaves his way around a pack of wolves, passes a litter of kittens when he suddenly feels a serpent wrap its scaly surface behind his neck and tug him in their direction.

“There you are?” The Marchioness Deruwe spoke in a possessive tone.

Sander flung his head in a 90 degree turn towards her direction.

The Marchioness Deruwe was a beautiful creature. That was not something that was ever up for debate but she was conniving and a master of the game. She maneuvered courts to her will. Destroying young maiden’s reputations on a whim. Her prowess for dismantling those who opposed her was so infamous it travelled with her across the channel to the Burgundian realm. She was a flower of the Yorkist faction. Her father had married her off to a French Marquess at the tender age of 16. Most young English maiden’s would have been intimidated to enter the French courts so unestablished but the Marchioness had spent her entire life bossing her pack of blonde hair, blue eyed hyenas around every Yorkish social event. To the Marchioness getting in the good graces of King Lucas and Queen Daphne was nothing more than sport. Another challenge to show off her skill set. It took no more than a season until she was trotting around the French palace like she owned the place. She worked her angle to its utmost potential, securing her husband the Marquess Deruwe a role as official acting liaison to the French king throughout the Burgundy nation and so here she stood exactly where Sander expected her.

Regal, drenched in beauty, playing her role. Moving puzzle pieces around. Advising young courtiers who were on the hunt for some prey and willing to do anything to climb up the social ladder to land themselves a big fish.

“My lady”

Sander slightly bowed in her direction as she placed her hand out to be kissed by Sander’s lips.

“My lord”

She said in giddy almost pantomime fashion.

It was strange for Sander to have the Marchioness validate his presence. For so long she had only toyed with him. Wound him up and dropped him like he was some rudimentary tool the Marchioness had outgrown and had no use for anymore. He hated to admit it to himself but she had taught him how to love. To love only for gluttony, to never share or truly give yourself to another but to merely take and when all resources had been depleted to move on to the next bigger and better thing. Sander had experienced this first hand as a young adolescent who lost himself in the Marchioness' blonde locks and lean figure and late nights falling asleep on her bosom but as intense as their “love” was, Sander just became another victim of her wicked game. She gorged and binged herself on his love mosaic, his unrelenting joyful spirit that illuminated a room like a moonbeam in the middle of a forest but once the affair was all over he was left a mere shell of himself. She had taken everything from him. Sander felt he had no other options but to resign himself to a monastic order or to become an agent of this dark market where love was a tool for savagery, negotiation, lust and pure greed. Sander had turned himself from a victim to a lothario. Only playing the game of love for sheer sport just to quench his blood lust.

Sander lost track of time and didn’t even realize how long he had been standing in front of the Marchioness spellbound by her presence when his axis shifted and he saw the lion surrounded by his pack. He snapped into animation and headed towards the lion passing a hoard of mice, a stallion and his mare.

The troop of big cats all turn towards the bulls' direction as he comes to a halt mere feet away from their king. The lion walks forward to meet the bull and as they close the distance and stand mere inches from one another about to break out of this wild life sanctuary and into the human realm the ballroom goes dark.

A sudden cacophony of screams and squeals rumbles through the ballroom.

“Who do you want to be tonight?” The Duke of Burgundy asks the wildlife in a demanding tone.

“Do you want to be a predator?”

“Or the prey? …...Tonight ladies and gentleman or should I say inhabitants of the animal kingdom. Tonight there are no rules. You can be who you want to be under the guise of moonlight.”

“If you dare not play our game and you absolutely must light your way through tonight's festivities then take one of the candles that the servants are providing but if you're brave and truly want to get lost in the darkness then the castle is your playground for one night and there is only one rule,what happens in the darkness stays in the darkness”.

The roar of the wildstock animates through the ballroom and orbs of light begin to appear in front of masked beast, birds and prey.

A gothic melody begins to fill the room as the musical entertainment for the evening amplifies through all corners of the palace.

The orbs begin to make a circular formation and the heat of the flames subdues the wild life.

The candle flames waltz back and forth.

And the hot blooded creatures move in the shape of a half crescent moon.

More orbs begin to light the room and the moon phases begin to decorate the floor as they do the night sky.

The green monster suddenly feels a tug of his wrist as gravity and his heart desire walk towards the moon phases and the lion and the bull head towards the dancing troop standing side by side, when the lion does a sudden about face and is standing directly in front of the bull.

“Dance with me?” the lion asked in a meek tone. One anticipating a denial.

“I don’t wish to embarasses you my prince but one is not a dancer”

The bull notices the lion's chocolate gaze scan his person when a sickly sweet tone comes out lightly encouraging the bull.

“Just follow along. I promise I won’t lead you astray. Just trust me.”

The lion lifts both his palms to his shoulder height facing the bull and the bull matches his movement.

The lion settles his palms against the bulls as they stand two ready pilgrims; palm to palm in holy palmers' kiss.

As the gothic chimes began to pick up pace the lion demo’s a gentleman’s curtsy which the bull mirrored. They retouch palms but this time they point their hands towards the sky and as the bull and the lion brought them down so did each pair of courtiers in the ballroom and took their position to begin the waltz.

The lion and the bull stand shoulder to shoulder vertically, each positioning themselves to face opposite sides of the ballroom but completely interlocked via one's right arm into the other’s left.

“You ready?” The music begins to speed up.

“NO” Sander chuckles out embarrassed.

“Did I mention I am really really bad at this…” he admits with a lack of confidence that is foreign to him.

“Well I think it’s fate then because I’m really good at this” Robbe shoots Sander a wink.

The pair of gentlemen begin swaying in a whimsical harmonic intonation. Fluted skirts twirled around them under the incandescent flicker of limelight radiating  around the ballroom.

Robbe’s mood becomes rather chipper as an uptempo beat begins to sound around the room and an uncontrollable laugh begins  bubbling up to the surface. Sensing he has the upper hand, Robbe is suddenly full of gumption and can’t help but tease the Duke.

“You really are bad at this, aren’t you?”

Sander is moving his limbs around aimlessly with a lack of grace that you could mistake him for a duck failing to take flight.

All feathers, no grace.

“Stop laughing at me” Sander demands in a playful tone.

Shooting him a makaveli smile. Robbe begins to untie his connected arm and gently grab Sander’s hand to guide it towards the heavens emulating a wedding’s arch.

“Tsk, tsk ……. Come on my duke go on” Robbe signals to Sander to go under the arch suggesting that he was about to twirl Sander mid dance.

Sander stalls for a second but as Robbe pulls on his arm he follows his direction.

“You’re enjoying torturing me too much my prince”

Sander knows that to the rest of the courtiers he must look clumsy and foolish but in that moment he couldn’t care less. The prince stirs an unfamiliar feeling within Sander. He feels weightless, airy and unencumbered. He knows this feeling is what Bernard would call fun or what he was adamant Sander was hesitant to experience in life, which was a carefree playdate. One without an agenda, an individual he could let go with and maybe one day even feel compelled to show his true nature too. The real Sander, the one he hid from the world.

Now that Sander had let Robbe have a little fun with him. It was time he matched the prince at his game.

Sander tugs on Robbe’s arm and pulls him towards him. They are standing so close together that Sander can feel the hot breath of royalty when Robbe doth protest to Sander hand gripping his slim waist.

Sander leans in towards the side of Robbe’s face and whispers lightly.

“Ready?”

“What?” Robbe replies with an inquisitive squint adorning his eyes.

“We're not going to stay here all evening are we? The night is young...”

“Sander I can’t lea---”

“On the count of 3” Sander reenforces.

“But my fiance is waiting…..” Robbe whispers, trailing off in a barely audible volume towards the end.

“3”

Before Robbe can fight the instinct to relent. Sander is rushing him out of the ballroom, leaving the prideland behind. Emergency evacuating from the serengeti and rushing down a dark corridor camouflaged by the night sky.

Before they both know it they have reached the rotunda the place where Robbe’s first laid eyes on Sander under a lightning painted sky that only served to  illuminate Sander’s chiseled face; and though Robbe was lost for words in this moment he would look back at their first meeting and recall that even amongst the torrential downpour and screams of mother nature there was no denying that Robbe always knew that Sander would be the one.

____________________

“Have you lost yourself in lunacy?”

Robbe turned to Sander, sporting a sour expression.

“I didn’t think you would lack imagination my prince”

“I don’t” Robbe spoke sternly, surprised at Sander’s use of his formal title.

“Oh no? Seems like you're questioning my intentions.”

“Is the prince of swords fearful he will be led astray?”

Both men stood silent staring at one another. Calculating their next decision as if the weight of a nation depended on it.

For Sander, Robbe had the properties of a seductive paramour. He knew the prince was promised to another and that whatever he sought from him would be nothing more than a diliance by night. A transaction that could only take place in the cloak of darkness but he didn’t care. When he was in his presence he felt displaced, rocking on the edge of an axis, chemically imbalanced, filled to the brim with potency.

For Robbe, Sander was the last drink of the night he should have walked away from. The moment you recall the next morning that tipped you over the edge. He was a deadly sin manifested in a man. Sander was Robbe’s last everclear.

Both men hear the squabbles of hyenas approaching their territory and on a lion’s instinct Robbe grabs Sander’s hand and leads him down the rotunda stairs.

“Come on Sander, someone will see us”

They escape through the courtyard and away from the herd.

Hand in hand.

Together.

In alliance.

The palace is pitch black, almost frightening but Robbe navigates the route with such gravitas, purpose, unwavered and committed towards his sin. The men untether themselves from their role play. They throw their masks aside and run into the night together in their purest forms.

Robbe heads towards refuge, towards the high garden walls where they can hide themselves deep in the labyrinthine green. A garden brew of emerald tinted greenery, shamrock leaves and rainbow colored rose bushes.

“Where are we going?” Sander finally protests and as Robbe lets go of Sander’s hand he takes stock of his surroundings.

“Woah”

Sander is in awe of this grassy fortress. The walls are high so much so that they feel like they are collapsing in on themselves and submerging the twosome in a foggy condensation.

Sander shivers.

“Fock, it's cold”

“Come now” Robbe nods his head signaling Sander to follow him deeper into this thorny environment.

“Where are we going?” Sander asks tentatively. A tad suspicious of Robbe but also certain that his fellow journeymen knows the way.

“It’s a surprise”  

“Is this the point of the story where I suddenly go missing?”

“What?” Robbe looks at Sander with a puzzled look.

“Am joking….. But don’t think I don’t know about the legends surrounding the lakes and forest here”

Robbe's face loses all its pink hue at the mention of those stories. Sander quickly recognizes his obvious fumble but it was merely an innocuous mention it was not meant to offend or besmirch his name.

“Umm am sorry, nevermind” Sander quickly throws out and starts moving deeper into the seafoam landscape.

“Ok prince, lead the way”

Robbe brushes off the uncomfortable mention and re-engages.

“Ok Duke, on the count of 3” and before Sander even has time to register the count Robbe takes off running deeper into refuge.

___________

Sander is panting by the time he catches up to Robbe.

They moved so fast between the juniper corridors and foggy condensation he isn’t even sure he knows how to get back out of the labyrinth but for now he pushes that thought out of his mind as he stands at the center of this garden universe surrounded by a rainbow colored flower bed.

He inhales and the scent of chrysanthemum, lillie and roses fill his nasal cavity. He licks his top lip and he swears he can taste the pollen in the air.

“It’s my favourite place in the palace”

“It's beautiful” Sander reassures Robbe.

“I planted these flower beds with my mother. It was the only thing that helped when he d-------”

Robbe cuts off the sentence abruptly.

“It took time but eventually they blossomed” He admits softly.

“These white florets here, they are the ones I picked out for your quarters”, Sander’s face instantly lights up with an innocent smirk when he realizes that Robbe picked out the flowers he's been drawing. Because of course he did, they’re beautiful.

Sander and Robbe stroll past bushes of red roses and Sander stops to clip one off the vine as he gently walks back to Robbe and begins to delicately push his hair behind his right ear and places the red rose atop of it.

Robbe just stares at Sander with big eyes and a dreamy gaze anticipating the next move.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?”

Robbe remains silent shaking his head back and forth.

Sander moves closer to Robbe, surrounding him.

Robbe drops his gaze focusing on the rosewood colored lilies beneath him.

He knows the moment is coming. Robbe can feel the heat of Sander breathe, glazing the side of his face moving towards his mouth when deep in the darkness he hears twigs break.

Robbe looks towards the ominous noise and takes one big step away from Sander and a few steps towards the sound.

Sander notices that Robbe suddenly seems flustered, weary and distracted.

“Ummm we should play a game”

“What? Right now? Why?” Sander retorts in a questionable elevated tone.

“Trust me” Robbe pleads with his signature pyrope orbs that guarantee to make Sander weak at the knees.

“Okay” Sanders states in defeat.

“Close your eyes”

Sander squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation almost childlike.

“When I count to three, open your eyes and come find me”

Sanders stands amongst the roses when he hears Robbe yell out “one” a few feet away from him.

A few seconds later he hears Robbe yell out “two” but his voice is more distant.

Lastly he hears him yell out “three” and when he opens his eyes he stands alone amongst the flower bed.

The red rose Sander placed behind Robbe’s ear lays on the ground in front of him. Sander picks it up and looks around.

Suddenly he is frightened.

The garden walls are high and the night is eerily silent.

“Robbe” Sander yells out into the darkness.

But nothing. Sander doesn’t hear any noise or callback.

Sander pops his head into every corridor but everything is so dark and identical looking that he doesn't dare leave the refuge of the rose garden.

He yells out for Robbe again but still nothing.

He waits another twenty minutes but the night is only growing colder and so he makes the call to head back to the palace and ask his hand, Younes to come back with him to search for Robbe in case he got lost or was hurt.

It took Sander many tries of winding corners and dead ends to find his way out of the garden maze. What easily took him and Robbe ten minutes to navigate; took Sander at least an hour to navigate his way out of.

As he reaches the entryway to the palace garden he sees a figure absconding towards the palace in haste, his locomotives appear unruly and he does not resemble Robbe at all from behind but those hickory manes are recognizable from over yonder.

“ROBBE” Sander yells out ferociously. Annoyed but relieved that Robbe was ok.

“Robbe stop” Sander speeds up towards the figure.

He sees the figure turn towards him and it is Robbe but Robbe takes a brief look at Sander with disinterest and continues on his way.

Sander sprints towards him for some sort of explanation about why he just abandoned him like that.

Sander finally catches up to him and as he tugs on his shoulder. He hears Robbe groan in obvious annoyance.

“What do you want?”

“Robbe what the hell you just left without saying anything…… I was worried”

Robbe's face is blank and unnerved.

“OOookay” Robbe rolls his eyes.

Sander shrugs his shoulders signaling for some deeper meaning or some type of closure.

“Ooookay” Sander repeats back to Robbe mimicking his juvenile ambivalence.

They stand in the darkness, frozen, sizing each other up.

“Is that all you needed to say to me my lord?”

Sander is so confused and angry. He feels like a fool and better yet he doesn't really have room to speak freely at least not in view of the palace guards.

In one last attempt Sander cuts in front of Robbe and speaks in a barely audible whisper.

“Robbe I just thought…...well I thought we both understood that we enjoyed one another’s company. I thought we had an understanding tonight.”

Sander boars his gaze straight into Robbe’s chocolate orbs as he lets the last sentence drip out of his mouth.

Robbe’s steps back and lets out a menacing laugh.

“Oh my lord, for an English man you truly are gullible”

“Tonight was just for show. You and I are just foes through arrangement. Nothing less, nothing more. Let us not pretend that you're anything but a visitor here with his own personal agenda. I was simply entertaining you at my fathers bidding. I thought you of all people would understand.”

Sander stood stoic. Not giving Robbe the satisfaction of showing him an inch of emotion.

Every word spewing out of Robbe’s mouth was meant to sting. Worse of all, Sander could tell Robbe was enjoying ridiculing him.

Once Robbe was done humiliating him and blundering the metaphorical knife deep into his chest cavity he wrapped up their exchange with a simple bid farewell.

As Robbe walked into the palace he turned around one last time to remind Sander.

“Get to bed my lord. Tomorrow we go hunting and god knows…. am in need of a good kill”

And with that Robbe disappears into the palace walls.

Sander can feel tears welling up. He is not upset because some boy played him. He just hates looking foolish and being the butt of someone’s joke.”

Sander gets a hold of his senses and storms through the palace towards his quarters.

As he slams his door shut the moonlight illuminates his sitting room and he sees the bouquet of white florets in the center of the room.

A sudden rage takes a hold of him and he grabs the vase and slams it on the ground. The remnants of the broken ceramic lay shattered at Sander’s feet and the white florets destroyed.

Before Sander can react he sees a silhouette in the corner of the room.

“Well well well someone had a bad night”

It’s the Marchioness Deruwe. Sander would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Britt am not in the mood”

“Oh now we are addressing one another with informalities” Britt mockingly points out.

“Leave, right now”

“Now now Sander I come bearing gifts. The Earl of Warwick has sent a message. He has approved and is willing to arrange a marriage to his daughter Isabel”

“What?!?!?!” This was unexpected Sander knew the Earl despised him.

“How is that possible? Edward would never allow me to side with Warwick. He is already suspicious of his dealings with the Lancastrians.”

“He doesn’t have to know. We would arrange your passage back to England in secret and your union would be solidified without Edward knowing.”

“That’s mad. Edward has sent me here with one objective in mind. We need the Burgundian iron to defeat Henry.”

“You and I both know the Burgundians will never give up the iron without getting something more than a simple marriage to Margaret. This is all for laughs. The Burgundians just want to know if they are backing the right horse.”

Sander knows Britt is right. Everyone involved knows that the Burgundians will never give up the iron without a proper incentive.

“Why are you helping me, Britt? You’re a yorkist flower, what do you gain from pushing me onto the side of the Lancastrians?”

“We all have a part to play Sander. I need to hedge my bets and have as many options as possible. My husband is a complete idiot but our money is not everlasting and we all have something to gain from this war.”

Sander shook his head in agreement. It was rare to see Britt be so sincere but her tone was definitive. She had her own secrets and people to protect.

“When you have a response for the Earl, send a note my way. I will make sure it crosses the channel”.

Britt saunters towards the door when Sander can’t help but show his hand.

“The Prince of Swords. What's his game?”

Britt pauses and looks back at Sander puzzled but curious.

“The Prince, don’t underestimate him; he is a great strategist and has the ability to command an army if need be.”

“Does he want to be king like his father?”

“No he does not but his people want him to. They respect him. They speak of his kindness and fairness above all. He also quells the fears of a French invasion; he has been betrothed to the Princess of France since he was a child. The people call their union the great love story. Betrothed since birth and genuinely a love marriage. Nice for some I guess....”

Sander gives Britt an ambivalent chuckle. A love marriage? What a foreign concept for both of them.

“Is that all?” Sander tacks on to the end of the conversation. Egging on Britt’s conniving ways,

“Does he have any secrets?” Sander finally just asks.

“No, he is clean. If you were to ask me to clean. Everyone is hiding something but it seems like the Prince of Swords is perfect.”

“There is no such thing. Everyone has a secret”

“Exactly” Britt agrees.

“Find out whatever the Prince is hiding and you’ll have the iron and maybe even the chance to be king. All you have to do is to get him to trust you and as soon as he does take the iron away from him.”

Sander nods in agreement.

“Play the Prince at his own game” Sander states with venom in his voice and continues.

“In the end.....” 

“I only have one goal”

“To make the prince regret he ever met me.”

[stanelyurisisaliveandwell]

The ones we leave behind (platonic!Hank MCcoy x reader)

Okay so this is my first EVER fic... okee

Summary: Y/N basically has the same powers as wanda maximoff. She was part of the original Xmen (first class). At there time she is only 14 while they were all like 17-18(i tried to research their age but it was really confusing). Umm... this will take place during days of future past a short while before Logan comes and i will kinda be bending time and shortening thew length between events.. idk

Warnings?: idk angst? language?

Y/n sighed. She could take the silence most nights but something about tonight was different. Its not like sleep came easy to her, she had always struggled with sleep. She was was sleeping in Raven’s old room, wrapped in one of Alex’s old shirts that fit her like a night gown. Growing up on the streets, Y/n learned that it was better to stay awake at night in order to avoid getting hurt. Eventually her eyelids drooped and she was pulled into a very light sleep.

The nukes were charging at them full speed. Y/n stared in horror as they got closer and closer. It wasn’t the kind of problem you could run from, hell even if it was, her feet were stuck to the floor. She was quickly pulled out of her daze by the feeling of being pushed backwards. She looked up to see that Raven, Sean, Hank and Alex now surrounded her. They all had seen her there, crumpled on the ground, her battery had been drained from the battle and they dove in front of her.

Y/n jolted wake again. Drenched in sweat. Whenever she closed her eyes she was haunted by that beach. The feeling of death looking down on all of them, ready to strike. She looked at the portrait of them on her bedside table, their smiling faces serving as a reminder of the hole they left behind them. She couldn’t take it any more.

Cold air hit her face as she wandered onto the grounds. What had once been a beautiful garden was now a desolate weed infested patch of land.She felt a tear roll down her cheek, nothing had been the same after Cuba. Raven, Sean, and Alex were all gone. And Charles.... Charles couldn’t even look her in the eye. To be honest, she was almost disgusted by him. The man who had been her father figure to her was gone. Replaced by an empty shell of an addict. She was still young but she could see the ruin that had become of him. 

“Hey,”

It was Hank, the only person she had left nowadays.

“Hey yourself”

“Did it happen again?”

“Yeah...”

Hanks face contorted with concern. The poor kid, he had always seen her as like a little sister... They all had. She was only 13 in Cuba. She was only 13 when her life nearly ended. They had all stepped in front of her that day, Haank didn’t know where they were tonight, but he could speak with confidence that they would all do it again in a heart beat.

“How bad?”

“The normal, you know..” Her voice trailed off before she took a deep breath to recollect herself.”I was on the beach again and I couldn’t move. But this time i was alone. I was the only one on that beach and the nukes got to me. and.. and I couldn’t move!” She choked on her words, finally collapsing into Hank’s her brothers arms.

They sat there for a while. Hank stroked her back and whispered calming words into her hair that they both knew were lies.

Finally she sat up. Hank gulped, he already knew what she was about to ask. It never changed.

Drying her eyes she looked up at Hank with those big eyes he could never say no to and asked those damned words  “Any new news?”Hank could almost say it with her at this point.

He shook his head.

“FUCK!”

Hank looked down in suprise. It had been over a year and the girl had never broken down. What he saw when he looked down broke his heart even more. He saw a broken girl, almost completley different from the young teen he had met a few years ago. 

“FUCK! Ugh!”

An old flower pot lifted into the air and smashed against a wall a few feet away from their heads as she continued to scream. It had been so long since had seen her use her power, he was in awe all over again.

“shit!shit! shit! GODAMMIT!” 

Another pot hit the wall.

“Hey! Y/n stop! Y/n/n hey.”

Hank pulled her into his chest while she writhed, trying to break free.

“Shhh.. y/n/n. Its okay. calm down-”

“NO!”

She finally broke free sending Hank (and several pots) flying into the wall.

“NO! I’m sick of pretending like its okay!”

“Y/n-”

“Pretending like they are all out there living their normal lives! Pretending like they didn’t just disapear!”

“Y/n/n”

“You think that I don’t see the way he (*Charles*) is practically gone at this point!? How he never even comes out of his room?! How YOU scurry around fufilling every one of his orders! Providing him with that... that... THAT DRUG thats DESTROYING him! Destroying us!”

Y/n was in the air now, red vines of light surrounded her and her eyes went form their normal y/e/c to a glowing ruby red. Tears were streaming down her face at a rapid pace and the old shirt billowed in the cool night wind. Hank watched in horror and despair as the little girl he had once knew broke into a million peices before his eyes.

“You know every night I try to reach out to them...” She faltered,  sinking a little closer to the ground. Finally she was able to choke out the rest of her sentence, “ Alex and Sean”

“And do you know what I hear every time?” She was barely whispering.

Hank leaned foward, hanging onto every word that came out of the broken girls mouth.

“screams”

“oh god...” Hank’s stomache dropped

-----------------------------

I kinda hate this ending but idk how else to end it sorry. :(

[after-valiant-hero-ask]

Soooo, somehow the "keep reading" Thing on tumblr kinda beoken for me, so I can't really post this with the keep reading, but also, I made a post about going to make a fandic of After Valiant Hero that takes place BEFORE the main event onthe comic, sooo, here it is!! I hope you all enjoy it! (And also, it's 2.000+ words long, so, it's kinda long^^)

============================

"TONIGHT"

by LovelyPink2005

——————————

Summary:

This takes 2 months after the valiant Hero ending, right when the toppats decided to celebrate their fully recovered airship and the clan, but something is up with sven that made him missed the whole party.

Note:

I'm not that good on english, so, I'm so sorry if this fic came out bad^^"

And also, this is a fanfic I wrote about the story of the messy doodle/sketch comic I did of sven and Charles on whiteboard, so, uhhh, yeah^^"

——————————

It was the day after they did their first heist after recovering their airship and their clan, which is 2 months after the Valiant Hero ending. It also charles's first time too, he feels strange for doing that, like there's something wrong with it but can't quite put a finger on it. He decided to forget about it. "It's probably just the side effect."

 

The toppat clan wanted to celebrate it for their success, they talk to talk, share to share about having a party for it, until it delivered to charles and sven who is on their room. "A party huh?" Sven said as he put his hand on his chin, thinking about it. "Suits yourself, If you wanted to celebrate it, then go for it" He continue with a smile on his face. He turned his head to charles to see his face full of excitement for that party, like he never had them before.

"Sven" Charles called as he put his hand on sven's shoulder. "Let's have it tonight!"

"Yeah, sure..." Sven paused, looking down for a second, and lifted his face back to charles. "Sure!".

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, if you all want it, then go for it."

"Alright, I'll go inform the others about this." He gives sven a pat on the back before leaving the room.

Sven waves and wanted to say "c'ya" to charles very badly, but charles already left them room. Sighed, and sits back to his bed, and looked up on the ceiling, smiling. "Hey, are you ok there..?" His face could easily shows you a bit of sadness, and pain. Sven was talking to himself, but really, he just missed his old friend.

Someone who used to be around him, a friend who ALWAYS around him ever since he joined the toppat clan. Burt Curtis. That's his name. Sven and Burt joined the toppat clan on the same day years ago, they even meet right before entering the airship. They keeps on running into each other as their relationship grows, until they become the best of friends. Even after Sven become the leader, their relationship or friendship still is the same.

But… sadly… He died at the orbital station when it exploded. got left behind because he was trapped on a room and couldn't get out. Sven wish he could found him, but the other toppats dragged him with force to the pod.

He couldn't save him. He failed to save him. The last thing he even heard from him was a when he called sven after the luxury pod has escaped.

"We're having a party tonight... Wish you could join us burt." A tear runs down on his face.

He wiped it as he rubs his eyes. "Ugh, c'mon sven, pull it together!" He palmed both of his hands on his face and falls on his bed.

"He's gone! Just.. Try to—– uuggghh!" He sighed to himself. He quickly sits up and try to pull his act together. A forced smile on his face, but it's not that obvious.

Take a deep breath, and let it out as he then go outside to also inform the others about the party. Yeah, let's just focus on that, focus on the clan. Maybe the other could distract him from his mind.

 ---

Charles straight up go to the cafeteria since most toppats usually just hang out there. He saw one of the toppat he usually talk to if sven wasn't around. He called him.

"Harold!" Said charles as he waved his hand at him and the other toppats that's with him.

Ah yes, Handsome Harold. Charles usually hang around him since he's the second person who ever talk to him after he woke up and got amnesia.

"Oh, Charles" Harold rise his hand up as high as his face.

"Sve— uhh, Chief said that we're having a party to celebrate the fully recovered of our clan!"

Harold and the other toppats look at each others as their eyes widened open.

What?? "Really?"

Charles nodded. The other toppats slowly having their face with smiles.

"Alright lads! Let's prepare things up for the party!" One of the toppat called Wallace Dagwood, yelled as the others on the cafeteria then cheered.

A couple of hours has passed, and the party is almost ready. The whole cafeteria was full with a lot of stuff, Charles just can't wait for sven to see this. There's a bunch of food and snacks on the food table, such as pizza, chicken wings, tacos, cupcakes, cake, and other food that usually on a party. There's also a berry punch, and some alcohols on the drink table.

Beside the foods and drinks, there's also a lot of decorations and other stuff that changed on the cafeteria. Like a small stage for anyone who wanted to perform anything. Blue carpet on the whole floor of the room, and disco light-ball. Charles can't really describe everything, but all he could say is that everything is going to be awesome!

Huh?

In a flip, he realized something. He haven't see Sven around to help since he know that Sven likes to help around.

Is he not feeling well?

He did startled for sometimes today whenever he talks… is there anything wrong with him?

Charles can only feel worried about him. But he hopes that non of his thoughts are true.

"Oi Charles!"

Sometimes tapped his shoulder. He jumped a bit and making the "eep" Sound as he surprised.

"Hmm? Oh, it's you" He signed, It was of course Harold.

"What were you thinking? I saw you were excited a view second ago, but then you immediately worried" Said Harold.

"What's wrong?"

"I- huh? No no, you guessed it wrong, why would I be worried when there's a party right in front me?"

How the heck did he know? Can he read face expression that good???

Harold sighed. "Charles, it's all over your face."

Shoot, Right. Knew it.

"O-oh, well, you're right" He smiles. "But I only worried because this will be the first party I'll ever have, since, you know.." He scratched his head.

He lost his memories. He can't even remember everything, how can he remember the last time he even go to one, right?

"Yeah, I know, sorry for that" He wrapped his hand around Charles.

"But they'll all come back! Even if they won't, you can always create new memory!" Harold just trying to cheer 'em up. "Just don't forget to have your medicals, 'kay?"

Charles smile and nodded.

Both of them then go to help t he others finishing some stuff for the party.

---

Sven was outside of the security room, the place where he get to see outside and have the winds in his hair (the place where henry got in the airship when we choose the grapple gun (PBT)).

Just standing there, watching the sun setting down. He looked at the sky.

Thinking to himself. Wishing that all of this was just a really long dream, and when he wakes up, everything was still… Normal. Burt still there, the orbital station was save and sound. And Reginald never got arrested.

He's been there for a hour now, until Charles contacted him. His phone buzzing.

"Hmm?" He picked his phone. It's Charles…

He takes a deep breath, and then answer the call. "Hello"?

"Sven! Where are you? I can't find you in your room, or the cafeteria!" Said Charles in a little worried tone.

"The party is starting in a hour!"

"Oh, really?" He responded as his eyes widened a bit. He didn't thought it'll be starting that fast. "That was fast"

"Yeah, and— wait, Sven! Are you at that place again??" Charles could hear the sound of the winds through sven's phone.

"... Well, yeah?"

"What's wrong?? You only goes there is you're down, you know that you have your greatest friend hereto help you!" Charles raised his voice, but not in an angry way, but more like in a worried and abit of disappointed tone.

Huh? Oh right, he knew.

"No, it's fine Charles! I only looking for some fresh air!"

Hmmm, that sounds convincing alright.

"Okay, but you HAVE to be here when the party started! It'll be the greatest time, truste!"

Sven chuckled on how silly Charles is. "Yeah yeah, I'll be there".

He closed the call as he sighed. He closed his eyes and smile as he shakes his head.

"Charles Charles, guess there's different between you two after all" He chuckled.

Sven then make his way In. He walk through the security room, the hall of portraits, and finally, the kitchen. He stopped there for a bit, looking at the drawer. He then turns around and open up the drawer where he knew a bottle of alcohol would be there. He takes it and looks at it for a while. His face seems like he had no emotions, it's pale, but you could see through his face that he's… tired.

Sven continue walking and bringing the alcohol. He's going to his room.

---

An hour and a half has passed, and there is no sign of Sven yet. Charles keeps on looking around. The party already going since around 30 minutes ago. Charles bit his lips for a bit, worried if there's really something wrong with sven.

He takes a sip of the berry punch as he holding one cup of it.

"Sven, where are you?" He whispered to himself.

A toppat named Carol Cross approach Charles from behind. "Where's sven?" She asked.

"Oh! Miss Carol!" He waved his hand to her, and then immediately scratched his head. "I uh, not sure, I haven't see him anyway around this place".

"Hmm, you should go and find him, don't wanna make him missed tonight."

"Yeah, maybe I should" He put his cup on the table. "Cya around Miss carol, and enjoy the party!". Charles immediately left the cafeteria and try to look for Sven everywhere. It'll took him a while since the airship is really big, he could be anywhere.

After a while, he still couldn't find him, until he walked over to their room.

"Sven? Are you here?" Charles opened the door to their room and look inside.

As he though, he was on their room, sitting on the chair right in front of his small desk beside his bed. But is he drinking by himself??

"Uhh… Sven, are you drunk?" He asked as he approach him. He saw a bottle of alcohol beside him that's almost empty. Sven usually can't handle to much alcohol, a couple of small cup can already made him drunk alright.

He sits next to him. "Are.. you ok? You shouldn't drink by yourself sven".

" O-oh… burt, you're here—"

Burt?? Who is he talking about? He's clearly brunk very badly.

"Uhh, sven, it's me, Charles. You're ready drunk, aren't you?"

He then takes the bottle from sven to prevent him from drinking more. "You should stop now, you don't even recognize me that well" He put the bottle away.

Sven looks at sven, his face really looking like a zombie who just came back to life. He smiled as he saw Charles.

"S-stop joking around—– I know that's you Burt-" He hiccups every now and then.

"Heh, you're so silly Burt… I know it's you.." Sven turned his head back to the cup he's holding.

"You'll always found me whenever I'm like.. This—- I know I've only saw you a couple hours ago…But for some reason… i missed you.. So— much.."

Charles has no clue what he's talking about. But then he somehow remember something. Sven once mentioned he used had a friend from high school maybe? He said they're really close friend. One thing he know that sven missed them too, so, Charles assume he think he's the old friend of sven???

A sob could be heard from sven.

"I…Always wanted to tell you something… b-but— I'm always to coward.."

Charles kinda feels bad for him. He then patted sven's back. "Sven, snap out of it, it's me, Charles, you should get some rest and—–" Before he finish his sentence,he could feel that Sven is about to pass out in any moment. "Woah, sven-"

"I know I know… but B-burt.. Before I Pass out, at least let me tell you h-how I—–"

Without any warning, sven grabbed Charles hand and dragged him really closed to him.

"S-sven!?"

Again, without any warning, sven pulled Charles closer as he kissed him on the lips for like 5 second.

What. The. Heck!?!?!???? Did he just..!?

Sven then immediately fall as he fainted. Charles quickly grab him before he fell to the floor.

Charles's face became RED. He didn't know what the hell just happened. Did his friend just kissed him!? That was unpredictable. He couldn't believe that.

"Wh— what was that…!?"

He never and didn't have that kind of feeling towards Sven, so that's not the reason he blushed. Sven literally just took Charles's first kiss. And that's at least how Charles feel about it. He rubs his mouth as in, he wish that never happened. He didn't want his first kiss to be from his great friend.

But at the same time, he still feel bad for Sven. He once mentioned that he used to have this friend on high school and rhat they've separated from each others for so long, with sven still have this feeling for them. At least that's what Charles assume.

Charles sighed. The blush on his face started to fade away as he calmed down.

"W-well, guess sven will missed tonight's party."

Charles then picks up Sven and lay him down on his bed. He put the blanket on him.

After that Charles tried his best NOT to mention that even happened or even slipped through his mouth as he foes back to the party.

---

The sun is rising, another day has come.

The party was a blast last night, but to bad sven missed all of it.

Sven slowly opens his eyes ashe waking up. Yawning and rubs his eyes before sitting down. He feels a bit dizzy, but can't quite remember what happened last night.

Oh wait, think he did, he remember that he drank by himself on the room until he passed out. At least that's how he remembers it.

As Sven was still sitting on his bed,Charles came in the room while having himself a cup of coffee. He then saw Sven.

"O-oh, morning there sven!" He waved his hand at him, highly hoping he didn't remember what happened last night. He sat down on his own bed.

"Morning Charles, didn't expect you to wake up sooner than me" Said sven as he stretched his arms.

"Oh, yeah, uh, well, you were really tired yesterday, so, that's explain why you over slept?" He takes a sip from his hot coffee.

"Heh, pretty much, I was kinda uh, drunk last night and passed out"

Phew, He didn't remember THAT. Charles relief.

"Yeah-" Charles then change the topic in a second to prevent him from trying to remember that night.

"H-hey sven! You totally missed the party! As I said, it was the greatest!" He said as he smiles brightly.

"Oh really?" He smiled back to him. "Tell me about it then.

Charles then when on telling Sven everything that happened on the party, really detailed. From where Charles went off to inform the others about doing a party, until the party ended and everyone have to clean them up after it.

Days has passed, and Sven haven't remember what has happened that night. So Charles decided to keep it a secret to himself, until now.

===========================

Welp, that's all of the fantic! I hope you enjoyed this, and tha k you so much for putting your time to read this all t he way down here! I really appreciate it!✨✨✨

[carewyncromwell]

“I finished crying in the instant that you left, And I can't remember where or when or how, And I banished every memory you and I had ever made! But when you touch me like this, and you hold me like that, I just have to admit that it's all coming back to me... When I touch you like this, and I hold you like that, It's so hard to believe, but it's all coming back to me... It's all coming back -- it's all coming back to me now... There were moments of gold And there were flashes of light -- There were things I'd never do again, But then they'd always seemed right...”

~“It’s All Coming Back to Me,” by Celine Dion

x~x~x~x

AUGH, my heart! I blame this 100% on @mira-shard sending me that ship ask for my book-smart, people-dumb spaceman Jacob Cromwell and his boy best friend Duncan and reminding me how friggin’ much I adore these two. They hurt my heart so much and yet I love them with all of my heart and soul. ;~;

This is set toward the end of Carewyn’s sixth year, right after that certain Redacted event. This is also the first time these two have seen each other since Duncan died...and yeah, as you can expect, their reunion was pretty damn feelsy.

Jacob Cromwell had been working hard on his own almost all of that school year to reach the Sunken Vault before Rakepick, but after finding out that R was still actively targeting Carewyn by sending members like the Wizard in White after her, he became all the more determined to try to force them away from the Hogwarts grounds. Unfortunately for Jacob, R was one step ahead of him. Using the blood they’d managed to collect after badly injuring Jacob the previous year, they had Blaise Cromwell use Polyjuice Potion to masquerade as his nephew and sneak into the school so as to have access to his niece Carewyn, who R’s leader (Jacob and Carewyn’s cold-hearted maternal grandfather Charles Cromwell) ultimately wanted among their ranks as well.

While masquerading as Jacob, Blaise learned Carewyn was still planning on chasing after the Vaults, with the blessing of Mad-Eye Moody, who was currently investigating R himself, and after putting on a weak act of discouraging her, he “accepted her help” and subtly encouraged her to not tell her friends anything else about the Vaults, supposedly for “their safety,” but truthfully because Blaise didn’t want Carewyn to have ties anywhere outside of their family and organization. Blaise did suss out, however, that there were a few people in Carewyn’s circle of associates who were reluctant to leave the Cursed Vaults alone and “stay out of R’s business,” including Ben Copper, who Blaise in particular felt a searing distaste for, given that he was not only a “filthy Mudblood,” but he also was one of Carewyn’s first friends who was incredibly overprotective of her. After Blaise discussed the matter with his father Charles, it was decided that R should “deal” with Ben Copper the same way R had dealt with Duncan Ashe -- namely, to make an example out of him, which would not only scare Carewyn into line, but also take out a potential threat to their overall plan to isolate their target so they’d have no one else to fall back on.

Just as they had whenever Blaise infiltrated the school, R purposefully led Jacob away from the grounds, this time with the Wizard in White as a decoy. Since the Wizard had recently threatened Carewyn’s life, Jacob immediately charged after him with a vengeance, determined to hunt him down and kill him so that he’d never touch “his Pip” again. Unfortunately after several weeks of doggedly pursuing the Wizard in White all across London, he escaped, and Jacob in utter frustration was forced to return to Hogwarts and continue trying to access the Sunken Vault, even if he knew no way to do so without both of the Coral Keys that unlocked the outer and inner doors. It was only when Jacob returned to Scotland that he learned Rakepick had returned to Hogwarts the day he first left and had killed someone in the Forbidden Forest -- and it was a few days later, late at night, that Jacob was confronted by a familiar voice in the Lakehouse that was his hiding place. 

“So you are here, then.”

Jacob’s heart stopped. Whipping out his white Aspen wand, the ex-Ravenclaw whirled around so violently that he nearly knocked over the overturned boat on the floor behind him.

Hovering over him was a translucent shape of a seventeen-year old wizard. He wore Hogwarts robes, but due to the bluish-gray tint of his form, the uniform’s house colors weren’t identifiable. Not that Jacob would’ve needed to try to guess what house he’d been in -- he already knew the young man was in Slytherin. Jacob had gone to talk to him in their very first year all because he was a Slytherin and could answer that random question Jacob had had about the Slytherin commonroom...

Jacob’s almond-shaped blue eyes went very wide, losing almost all of their light, as his face blanched.

“...Ashe...?”

His voice left his lips in such a hushed whisper, it was like the breath had passed his lips without any diction whatsoever.

Duncan crossed his arms moodily. “Long time no see, Jacob. I’m curious -- did your sister just not tell you I was still around, or did you actively decide I wasn’t worth a visit?”

Jacob’s blue eyes flooded with pain as he shakily lowered his wand arm.

“Ashe...” he whispered again feebly.

The facial reaction didn’t move Duncan -- instead he plowed on.

“I mean, Hell, apparently Madame Pince even managed to catch sight of you before I did. Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, though...you always did run to books for all your answers, rather than use any common sense -- ”

Jacob did not know what Duncan was talking about, but in that moment, he had trouble articulating that on top of everything else he was feeling. It felt like his heart had swollen up in his chest and was slamming up against his ribs, throbbing with pulsing pain as he clumsily tucked his wand back into his robes.

“Ashe...” he tried again, but it was no use. His throat was so tight, it was like it was being squeezed...

“Then again,” laughed Duncan humorlessly, “‘common sense’ was never exactly common for you, was it? Nor was tact, patience, humility, sensitivity, or even a shred of self-control -- ”

“Ashe -- ”

“I mean, if I’d abandoned the precious little sister who I’d never bloody shut up about for seven years,” said Duncan in a very harsh, cutting voice, “I probably wouldn’t have immediately abandoned her again and only bothered checking in with her after finding out that someone might want to kill her because of me! You kept saying to me, ‘I gotta protect Pip,’ ‘I’ve gotta take care of Carewyn’ -- well, where the Hell were you, Jacob? Where were you this last month!? Where were you after she broke you out of that Vault!? Where were you, when I had to pick up your slack?! Just like I always do -- just like I’ve always done, ever since you waltzed your way into my -- !?”

“Ashe!”

The surname came out oddly choked. Duncan looked Jacob in the face fully for the first time, and immediately faltered.

The ex-Ravenclaw had hunched in on himself in the face of Duncan’s tirade. His hollowed-out blue eyes were very weak and rippling with moisture that he fiercely fought back. Although his shoulders hadn’t crumpled, they were shaking, as were his hands as they clutched at the sleeves of his elegant scarlet dress robes. His...very familiar scarlet dress robes...

Something twitched in Duncan’s expression.

“Ashe...you...” Jacob gave a very painful-looking swallow. “...You’re here.”

Duncan tried to glower at him. “Well spotted.”

He hated how much Jacob was shaking, and how it looked like he was fighting back tears. Jacob didn’t respond to Duncan’s sarcasm -- he appeared unable to.

“You’ve...been here all this time...all these years...you stayed behind?”

His voice was very quiet. He clutched at the sleeves of his dress robes.

“I thought you’d gone on!” Jacob burst out, his voice very strained. “I thought -- you’d left...”

“Well, clearly I didn’t!” Duncan shot back, more defensively that he’d intended. He didn’t like seeing Jacob like this -- didn’t like seeing him so upset -- didn’t like how...his voice echoed with something like remorse...longing...

Jacob’s hands shook more as he squeezed his arms in a vice grip, staring at Duncan as if he were a faded photograph he hadn’t seen in years and wished to carve into his memory before it became too damaged to salvage.

“When I was in the Portrait, I spent days and weeks wishing I could have just one more minute with you -- maybe fifteen, or thirty, just -- enough time to tell you every little thing I never did before...”

Jacob seemed unable to finish. He broke off, his head falling so that his eyes fell into shadow.

“...But -- but knowing you are here -- that you’re here like this...after I couldn’t save you, after R targeted us -- ”

Duncan flinched. The pain and self-hatred in Jacob’s eyes -- it looked just like the kind he’d seen in another pair of blue almond-shaped eyes not too long ago, in response to her having lost her best friend. At the time Duncan had briefly wondered if Jacob had reacted as badly to his death as Carewyn did Rowan Khanna’s, but had pushed off the thought. It was something he couldn’t believe -- didn’t want to believe.

“Ashe...” Jacob murmured. His voice had become rather level and absent, as it always was when he was thinking, even though the clenched hands on his arms were still shaking terribly, “Ashe, I’ve been such a fool...I don’t know how I never saw it before...how much I cared, how much I wanted you -- wanted us to...be an ‘us’...to swoop in and just...take you home to Pip and Mum, and...be a family together -- to break curses and travel the world and get into fights and then kiss and make up and get into trouble and then out of it again and laugh a lot and do stupid stuff and change the world and...maybe, I dunno, adopt some kids down the road or something -- I’d probably be a pretty lousy father, and we could’ve completely fallen apart, and the whole thing could’ve ended up being a mistake, but...thinking on it, all those years...all I could come back to over and over again was hating not knowing -- not knowing if we could’ve been happy together, if...well, even if we were a disaster, at least we still could’ve been something -- had something -- ”

Duncan felt a familiar burning sensation in the back of eyes, and it made him lash out.

“GET BENT, JACOB CROMWELL!”

Jacob’s head shot up, taken aback. Duncan held up a clenched fist as if he longed to punch Jacob right in the face.

“I’m mad at you!” shouted Duncan. “I’m allowed to be mad at you! After every mistake you made, for every bloody mistake you’re still making and will no doubt make for the rest of your sodding life, I should be mad at you! You never bloody learn and you always dash headlong into situations without using that brilliant brain of yours to think twice! And yet you...”

Duncan’s eyes were filling up with tears.

“You...you’re making it bloody impossible! I want to yell at you! I want to hate you! I want to know you never cared and I was a fool for ever wasting my time on you, because otherwise my whole reason for staying behind -- ”

The thought hurt Duncan too much, and he furiously shoved the end of that sentence away.

“I want to resent you for the rest of my undead days, and yet there you go, looking like that and rambling on like an idiot and...and...”

A tear leaked out the side of his eye. Despite the anger in his expression, Duncan was shaking too now. His other hand tentatively rose, hovering just shy of Jacob’s pale face as if he longed to touch it.

“...and...making me fall for you all over again,” choked Duncan, his voice very low and muffled in the back of his throat.

Jacob looked like he too was fighting back the urge to try to touch Duncan as he stared up into his light-less eyes. Like the rest of him, there was a tint of ghostly blueish-gray to them, even though they’d been such a warm, bright brown in life.

“Ashe...”

“Jacob, for the love of -- stop saying my name like that! I told you I’m mad at you!”

Even as he said it, Duncan’s transparent fingers grazed Jacob’s face, making Jacob shiver slightly at the cold as it passed through his skin.

“...Why?” said Duncan softly.

“What?”

“My robes,” Duncan clarified. “You kept them.”

Jacob’s eyes pulsed with emotion, both pained and almost offended.

“Well, of course I kept them,” he retorted hotly. “You gave them to me. Did you assume I’d just stick them in the back of my closet?”

“Sort of,” said Duncan a bit awkwardly.

Jacob’s face actually flickered with some righteous anger. “Because you wanted to believe I didn’t care?”

“Don’t turn this around on me!” Duncan shot back defensively. “What was I supposed to think, after you disappeared without a trace -- after all of the things I heard about you doing R’s dirty work -- ?”

“You KNEW R forced me to join them!” shouted Jacob. “You KNEW what they had over me -- what they almost did to Pip! You KNEW I would never, ever abandon Pip and Mum by my own choice -- ”

“I KNOW!” Duncan said fiercely.

The transparent hand that had been beside Jacob’s face clasped weakly at the air beside his hair, as if he longed to grab hold of it.

“...I know...” he said in a more hushed, strained voice.

Jacob’s blue eyes were still blazing with mild frustration.

“Ashe, I wore these robes for you, the night I went to the Portrait Vault,” he said lowly.

Duncan was startled.

“I wanted you with me, when I broke the last two Vaults’ curses -- when I saved Olivia...”

Jacob’s gaze betrayed a strange, almost beastly glint -- like vengeance, but much darker and more hostile.

“I wanted you with me when I demolished R and everything they’ve ever wanted and chased after. I still do. I want to make every last one of them pay for everything they took from me -- everyone they took from me.”

Duncan stared at Jacob, his expression strained with disbelief and something oddly touched.

“Jacob...”

He once again looked like he wanted to touch Jacob’s face, to trail his fingers through his dark curls. His light-less eyes fell away from Jacob’s and came down to rest on his lips instead.

“...You know I can’t help you do much of anything, like this.”

Jacob’s expression turned a bit more serious. “There is one thing you can do for me -- make sure Pip doesn’t leave the castle again. I heard Rakepick killed someone in the Forbidden Forest -- I can’t let her do the same to -- ”

“You can’t shield Carewyn from R, Jacob,” said Duncan very sharply.

“I can and I will,” spat Jacob fiercely.

Duncan’s lips came together very tightly.

“Do you know who that person was?” the ghost said very lowly. “The one Rakepick killed?”

Jacob’s expression lost some of its anger, seeing how oddly grave Duncan’s expression had become.

“Her name was Rowan Khanna,” said Duncan. “Sixth year Slytherin, supposedly in the running to be Hogwarts Head Girl. ...She’s also your sister’s best friend.”

Jacob’s eyes went very, very wide in horror.

“...No...”

His head fell. His eyes stared down at the floor, but didn’t seem to see it -- his mind was racing, unable to keep up with the horror of this news.

“Carewyn was lured out to the Forest after finding a Quill addressed to you in your old room,” Duncan told him sharply. “Three of her friends followed her and tried to protect her when Rakepick confronted her there.” Duncan’s voice lowered significantly as he added, “....She’d been sent with orders from R to kill one of your sister’s friends -- to send a message.”

Jacob once again clutched at his own arms, his flurry of thoughts darting across his eyes as he stared at the floor.

“They played me,” he whispered. “They knew I wanted to protect Pip -- so they sent the Wizard in White to attack her at the Lakeshore, so I’d fear him going after her...so I’d chase after him to try to stop him, even if it meant leaving Pip alone...”

His head shot up, and his eyes were narrowed in urgency and confusion.

“You said there was a message for me, in my room? Pip found my room?”

“A few years ago, I believe,” said Duncan. “I reckon it would’ve been a logical place to look, if she wanted to figure out what the hell you were up to, before you vanished...if she could even have found anything, in that absolute mess you always worked out of -- ”

“But why would there have been a message for me there?” said Jacob, his eyebrows knitting together. “I haven’t gone in there since I was expelled...”

Duncan frowned. “Well, R might’ve heard about you going into the Library...”

“But that’s just it!” said Jacob. “I didn’t! I haven’t entered the school since I left! It’s not exactly easy to break into Hogwarts -- and if I did and got caught, then where would I be, in protecting Pip and stopping R? I can’t let them get into the Sunken Vault first!”

Duncan suddenly looked almost as troubled as Jacob.

“...So...you haven’t entered Hogwarts at all? But...then why did Pince and Filch see you inside?”

A thought struck his mind.

“...Jacob...when was the last time you spoke to your sister? Not just saw her, I mean, really spoke to her.”

Jacob frowned deeply. “Last year, in Knockturn Alley. Though we didn’t really have much time to talk then, either...”

Duncan’s eyes narrowed in anxiety. “Jacob...Carewyn told her friends that you ‘don’t tell her much, whenever you meet.’ That doesn’t sound like something that someone would say after only seeing her brother once in an entire school year. It sounds like someone who’s been meeting him regularly.”

Jacob stiffened visibly. His eyebrows furrowed over his eyes as they wandered over the walls and floor.

“Something’s not right,” he said lowly.

He turned on his heel, whipping out his white wand as he went.

“I need to find out what’s going on. Ashe...while I’m gone, please -- ”

“Jacob, stop.”

Duncan swept right through Jacob, making the smaller man shudder. The ghost hovered over Jacob, his translucent robes flapping silently on either side of him.

“Before you go running off  without thinking again,” said Duncan sardonically, “talk to your sister.”

Jacob looked hesitant and slightly ashamed.

“I need to protect her -- ”

“No, you need to be there for her,” Duncan cut him off fiercely. “She’s just lost the first real friend she ever made in her life -- someone she cares about like few others. There’s only one person in this entire world who might know what that’s like...”

Duncan swallowed back the lump in his throat.

“...If you...truly cared, when I died, Jacob...then you’re the only person who might know what she needs, right now.”

Jacob closed his eyes and turned away, unable to reply. His fist clenched over the Aspen wand at his side.

“...Does she hate me?” he asked at last, very lowly. “Does she blame me...for what happened?”

Duncan’s eyes softened slightly. “You know she doesn’t.”

This didn’t seem to comfort Jacob, though. If anything, it made him more upset -- like he thought she should blame him.

Duncan exhaled heavily. “Jacob, please -- I know you want to protect Carewyn, and I know there’s not much time to stop R from reaching the Sunken Vault...but...”

A strange wry smile pricked at the corner of his lips.

“...if there’s one thing your sister has taught me...it’s how much knowing that someone cares -- that you’re not alone -- can mean.”

Jacob’s posture straightened slightly.

“She’s shouldered a lot by herself since you left, Jacob,” said Duncan. “Her friends are trying to help her with it now...but I think the help she really needs is yours.”

Jacob was silent for another long moment. Then he turned just enough to look at Duncan over his shoulder -- his lips had curled up in a crooked, sad smile.

“...You really did look after my Pip for me.”

Duncan gave a loud huff and crossed his arms. “It’s not like I could’ve not picked up your slack.”

His expression betrayed a bit more seriousness as he added, “...She’s a fine lass, Jacob.”

Jacob’s eyes squinted almost fondly. “She is.”

The smile then slid off his face.

“If Pip wants to see me, just...tell her to go out toward the Lake after dark and shoot up red sparks. I’ll come running right out to her. ...Will you tell her that, for me?”

Duncan nodded. “Of course.”

“Thank you. And Ashe?”

“Yeah?”

Jacob swallowed.

“You know how I feel about you...right?”

Duncan’s expression turned rather snarky. “Of course I do. You kept me around so you’d have someone to show off to.”

Jacob immediately looked irritated, and Duncan quickly added in exasperation, “Oh, come on, you know I know! Just...”

His transparent cheeks darkened with a dark blue flush as he glanced away out the side of his eye.

“Just...say it anyway.”

Jacob’s expression cleared, slowly breaking out into a bright grin that made him look years younger.

“...I love you.”

Duncan closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly through his nose.

“I have for a while,” Jacob pressed on, “dunno really how long, but...”

“All right, that’ll do,” Duncan said under his breath brusquely, despite the dark flush still clinging to his face. “I love you too -- so don’t go off and get yourself killed too, all right?”

With this, Duncan swept right past Jacob, brushing through his hair as he disappeared through the Lakehouse’s wall and back toward the school.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Maybe a Blackwood drabble involving a distant cousin, down on her luck, thinking she struck gold moving in with dear cousin Charles... until things take a dark turn? (They don't have time really be cousins of course.)

(I made her an old friend because the cousin thing doesn’t really vibe for me but I hope you like it)

+

Dark drabble request for Charles Blackwood! Reader is an old friend of Charles that he's obsessed with. Non-con breeding kink if possible?

What Could Be

Warnings: noncon, manipulation, yearning

Charles was always nice. Well, to you. Most people told you over and over what an asshole he was but he was always good to you. Ever since you were teens and he was scamming cards down in the alley. He always had your back and despite his reputation, you had his.

It had been a while though since you last saw him. Almost ten years. You'd got engaged to Jimmy and Charles left town just before the wedding. He said he had no choice but to miss it, he had an inheritance he needed to claim before it expired. But he never returned.

Then you and Jimmy divorced. Your mother wouldn't house you after the divorce and most felt similar about boarding single women. So you stayed with the widow Doreen Aldine and worked at the flower shop.

Six months and fourteen days after the separation, the last face you expected to see walked in. You wanted to hide but you were the only one left in the shop. You closed at 4:30 and it was already quarter after.

Charles wasted no time. He wasn't that type. He neared the counter and admired the orchid on the corner. You watched him nervously. Had he forgot you?

He smiled and assured you otherwise.

"You still like daffodils?" he asked as he rested a hand on the counter.

You tried not to smile back. "Charlie." You were the only one who called him that. "You must have made it in time. That's a nice suit."

"Did I?"

"You didn't come back. Why would you?" You said. "Leaving this town..."

"How's Jimmy?" He asked.

You blinked and tilted your head. You laughed.

"Engaged to someone else. Already." You answered. "We divorced just before Christmas."

Charles frowned and dropped his hand from the counter.

"Oh... You alright?" He touched the thick orchid stem. "I can't imagine old Missy Helen has changed. She always was a vicious gossip."

"Her and her daughters," You shook your head. "I live with the widow Aldine."

"Lee died?" He asked. You nodded.

"I work here." You shrugged. "Ma won't... How are you, Charlie?"

 He considered you and sighed.

"Good. I got a place upstate." He checked his watch. "You got time to cut a bouquet?"

"If that's what you need." You said.

”A dozen of those roses,” He pointed to the expensive pale pink ones. 

You nodded and went to your work. He counted out a pile of bills and you gave him his change. He took the flowers and smelled them. He looked over them at you and tipped them towards you.

"I know you prefer daffodils," He said. "But you deserve the best."

"Charlie," You laughed.

"I'm sorry about the divorce." He said. 

"Not your fault." You stared at the bouquet. "I'll figure it out."

He waited but you didn't take the flowers. Couldn't.

"Come upstate with me" He said. 

"Charlie--"

"Just a visit. See the city, see outside this damn place." He waved the flowers closer. "I'm only here for the night. My uncle needs bail."

"Tomorrow?" You asked.

"At noon." He said and pushed the flowers against your hand. "If you don't come, just look at the flowers and think of me."

You took the bouquet at last and his lips went crooked. He knew he'd won, like he always did.

"You still running dice?" You asked.

"Mmm, no," He hummed. "But I still play the odds."

<3

You told Doreen you’d be back. You told her you’d write to let her know. You realised as you packed your valise that Charles hadn’t given many details. Yet that didn’t deter you. That you could not stop thinking of his offer drove you to give a notice of absence at the flower shop the next morning and mull over which scarf to wrap your hair in.

Was Charles still the boy he had been? Had he meant it?

For a moment, you worried that one of his mean tricks would turn on you. That it was finally your turn to find out why Charles Blackwood had earned the loathing of so many in town. Why he had left and never come back. Well, not until yesterday.

You left the vase of roses with Doreen and the cheque for your room. You would still need it when you came back. Or if you didn’t leave at all. As you walked down to meet Charles by the square, you were certain you’d be waiting for nothing. But he was there in a red sports car with an open top. He stomped out his cigarette as he stood straight and smiled at you.

“You look as if you’re running from someone,” He said as he took your valise.

“Only myself,” You replied.

He placed your bag in the small trunk and opened your door for you. He wasted little time as he got in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. His hand clutched the stick and you stopped him before he could pull away.

“Why now, Charles? Why did you come back?”

“My uncle…”

“But--”

“Good timing,” He turned his hand and squeezed yours. “For once.”

You drew away and he shifted into gear. The edge of your scarf fluttered as the wind barreled around you. You watched the old town fade away in the side mirror then peeked over at Charles. His smile was gone and his face was tense in thought. You knew that look; it was the one he got before he had stuck Mr. O’Neil’s ladder to the wall with tar but now, you suspected he was up to something much more sinister.

<3

Charles’ house was bigger than any you could have imagined. The winding driveway and the towering gate. Had his inheritance really been so prosperous? You were in awe as he led you up the curved front steps, his arm under yours. Your ride had been long but smooth. You only spoke now and then, little reminiscent remarks.

He stopped at the front door and pulled a long key from his pocket as he parted from you. You clasped your valise in your fingers as he pushed the doors open and revealed a spacious foyer of polished marble and newly-laid wood. You stepped inside as his hand went to the small of your back and the door clicked as your heel echoed it in a sudden halt.

You stared at yourself. A likeness which was much forgiving of your true appearance. The paint was finely laid to reflect your former youth. The girl Charles had known all those years ago. The girl long gone. The portrait was startling as it reigned between the curved staircases. You turned to Charles and his hands clutched your arms tightly as he held you in place.

You dropped your valise in shock as he loomed over you. You trembled as his oceanic eyes were dark and stormy. You squirmed as his hot breath enshrined you.

“Charlie…”

“I waited so long.” He said. “I counted the days. I hustled, I lied, I cheated, to get all this.” He squeezed your arms as you tried to push him away. “For you. It’s all for you.”

“You’re scaring me, Charlie.” You gasped.

“I wasn’t going to wait forever. I wasn’t even waiting for you to get rid of Jimmy. I just needed it to be right. And it is, now.” He leaned in and rubbed his nose against yours. “Everything is perfect now that you’re here.”

“No,” You breathed and he took a step forward and forced you back. Another and another, until you were against the wall. “Charlie, I thought--”

“You thought I’d wait forever,” His hand left your arm and went to your throat, his lips hovered before yours. “Why him? Why did you never want me?”

“We’re friends, Charlie, I never thought-- I never wanted to ruin--”

“Don’t give me that,” He snarled and crushed his lips against yours.

You slapped his chest as he leaned into. His other hand crawled down your arm and gripped your waist. His fingertips dug into your side through the silk of your dress. He held your jaw as he devoured you and began to bundle the fabric over your thighs. You tried to pull it back down but his hand was between your legs in an instant.

He drew his lips from yours as he moved his knee between your legs. He pressed his hand roughly to the front of your panties and growled. You clawed at the lapels of his jacket and whimpered.

“Why--”

He interrupted you with another kiss. This one sloppy. You squeaked in surprise and his hand slithered down your chest, groping you hungrily before descending further. He snaked both arms around you and kneaded your ass. He lifted you suddenly and you tore your lips from his, hitting your head against the wall.

He balanced you between him and the wall, one hand gripped your right thigh as his other tugged at your garters. You beat against his shoulders but he barely noticed. He dragged his fingers over the satin along your crotch and picked at the edge. He teased you with two fingers before he turned his hand and stepped even closer.

He struggled with his belt and grunted in frustration. You wriggled desperately, grasping at him and the wall for anyway out. He only leaned against your heavier as he fumbled with one hand between you. 

“Please,” You begged. “Charlie--”

He kissed you once more. He bit your lip harshly then forced his tongue in your mouth. You felt his hand moving and smooth flesh tickle along your thigh. He guided his tip up your leg and hooked his finger under your panties. He pushed the satin aside with the head of his cock and you squeezed him between your legs, trying to shut him out.

He grabbed the back of your head and parted from your lips. The scarf crumpled in his hand and choked you as it slid down around your neck. You stared into his eyes fearfully and he thrust. One single, painful thrust that filled you entirely. 

Your lips formed an O and his eyes flared. He did it again, this time you let out a whine and he twisted the scarf so that it choked you even tighter. You beat on his shoulder as your pleas were trapped in your throat.

“Look at you,” He tilted his hips again, harder. “Look at this place.” He moved in tandem with his words. He leaned in until his lips were against your cheek, his spit smeared across your skin. “Big enough for us.” He sped up. “For our family.”

“Char--” The scarf tightened and your voice fizzled.

“You don’t have to-- thank-- me,” He rutted as he jostled your body against the wall. “I-- love-- you.”

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 4, Ch. 7

PART 4: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE HAS A CRUSH Chapter 7 - Bill's Dueling Skills

Nova

I woke up the day after the match feeling a bit down. I still had days when I missed my dad. Today was one of those.

When I reminisced about yesterday's match, my mood improved. I still couldn't believe that I managed to catch the Snitch right in front of Charlie. Skye, of course, was mad as she said that I was wasting my time and could do it faster. Orion, however, was just fine with my technique and that's what mattered to me. He was a good Captain.

At the beginning of the match, I could barely focus on the game as Murphy's voice filled my head and my heart raced faster than my broom. I was probably one of the few people who actually enjoyed listening to his long sentences full of numbers and predictions. And I have to admit that I flew very close to the commentator's stand just to see his cute face. Those blue eyes beaming at me as I passed by.

I still couldn't believe that I was crazy enough to go after that Snitch as it looked like Charlie and I were going to crash. I mean, I told him I would knock him off his broom if I had to and I think he thought I took it seriously!

I looked through the window and the sight of a clear sky made me excited for our next adventure. Barnaby convinced Charlie to accompany us the next time we sneak into the Forbidden Forest and Charlie convinced Professor Kettleburn to tell him the safest way to get inside the Forest.

Kettleburn, oblivious to the fact that Charlie would act upon it as he thought he was just curious, told him that the best way would be by flying on a broom. While Barnaby was taking care of getting us 3 brooms, Charlie and I planned to convince Bill to give us some dueling lessons to be better prepared if we encounter a creature like Aragog again.

I finally left the dormitory and as I was opening the door to leave the Ravenclaw Tower I bumped into Bill. He was standing in front of the door talking to the Riddle Eagle and trying to explain that he has no idea what the bird was asking of him.

“How do you ever get inside?” He scratched his head.

“What did he ask you?” I chuckled, still wondering what he was doing in front of our Common Room.

“He said something about water and beauty and scales but shown only to the ones who care.” I could see his mind was hard at work to figure it out.

“The Prefect's Bathroom.” I answered immediately.

“Oh, because of the Mermaid portrait and because Prefects are responsible?” It dawned on him as the door swung open and I nodded.

“Shut it Eagle, we're not trying to get inside.” The door closed and the Eagle groaned something about us taking his work for granted.

“That was a tricky one.” Bill was confused.

“I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders. I was so used to the riddles by now that I didn't give them much thought. “Bill, what are you doing here, are you looking for someone?”

“Yes, you actually. I have a problem.” His face turned sad.

“What happened?” I lead him down the stairs to the first bench I could find.

“Well, I was trying to make my mum proud and I decided to give the Washing Spell a try, you know to wash my clothes.” He started explaining. I nodded.

“And it didn't go well.” He reached for his bag and pulled out his Weasley jumper.

“What did you do?” I gasped.

“It shrunk! It barely reaches my belly button.” He frowned, holding the jumper tightly in his hands.

“Is there a counterspell I can help you with?” I didn't know what I could do to help him solve this problem.

“No, I tried already.” He sighed. “I don't want to throw it away and since you like my mum's jumpers so much I was going to give it to you if you'll have it.” He gave out a faint smile.

“M-me?” I blushed a little. He was right, I loved Molly's knitting but it would be weird wearing a jumper with the letter B on it, though my last name does start with it.

“Yes, I think it's just your size now.” He lifted the jumper by the shoulders to show me how much it shrank. It really was bad. What surprised me, even more, was that it didn't have a letter B on it but a W. I guess Molly decided to make one for Bill to show that he's a proud Weasley and THAT I could get on board with.

“Alright, I'll take it. It's still soft right?” I narrowed my eyes as I didn't know what exactly went wrong with his spell. “Like a stuffed animal.” He grinned and pushed the jumper in my hands.

“Thank you, Nova. It means a lot to me that I don't have to throw it away.” He hugged me. “I have to go talk to Professor McGonagall, but meet you down at breakfast?” He stood up, I nodded and he was on his way.

I made my way down to the Great Hall and as it was chilly and I only had a thin blouse on since the weather looked nice, I decided to put on my new Weasley jumper. Bill was right it was as soft as a plushie.

I saw a pair of familiar heads eating breakfast at the Gryffindor Table and sat down next to Tonks.

“Wotcher, Nova! Nice jumper!” She grinned. Charlie who was rather occupied with his bacon and eggs looked up and his eyes widened.

“Why are you wearing Bill's jumper?” He looked confused.

“I think it quite suits her.” Tonks' eyes moved from my face to the jumper and my face again. “Don't you think so, Charlie?”

“Yeah, you're really cute.” He spurted out and his eyes widened again when he realized what he said. I chuckled and felt the heat on my cheeks.

Before we could say anything and much to Charlie's relief Bill came to our table.

“Morning, mates!” He stopped next to Charlie and ruffled his hair.

“Bill, can I talk to you for a second?” Just as he wanted to sit down, Charlie grabbed his hand. “In private?” He almost hissed at him. He dragged Bill away from our ear distance and started mumbling something.

“What's his problem?” Tonks asked while munching on her cereal.

“I don't know. He's been kind of grumpy lately.” My head leaning on my hand trying to decide what to have for breakfast.

“You reckon he's on his period?” Tonks asked in a serious voice. If I had something in my mouth at that moment, it would be all over the table as I started laughing.

“Maybe he is.” I answered and Tonks joined in on the laugh.

Charlie

“What's the matter, Charlie? Why are you mad at me?” I hated when Bill looked all innocent.

“Why is Nova wearing your jumper?” I tried to sound as normal as possible.

“Oh, that. Well, you see it shrank when I was washing it and I know she likes mum's jumpers so I thought...”

“And does she know what the W on it stands for?” I interrupted him.

“I would assume that after knowing me for 4 years she would know, yes.” He nodded confidently.

“And don't you think it's a little weird that she is wearing a jumper with YOUR initial on it?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Charlie, are you jealous?” He must've noticed my red cheeks, a smug look on his face. “If it bothers you, I can ask for it back.”

“Oh, bug off, Bill.” I swung my hand at him and went back to finish my breakfast, leaving Bill behind.

Bothers me! Why would it bother me? I just wanted to know why she was wearing it, that's all.

“That went well.” Tonks grinned at us as I went back to eating my breakfast and Bill sat down next to me.

“Say, Nova.” Bill pocked me in the ribs with his elbow. Nova lifted her head, apparently still deciding what to eat. “You do know what the W on my jumper stands for, right?” I lifted my head as I was interested in her answer.

“Of course, I do.” She looked down at the golden W, woven in the burgundy jumper. “It stands for Weasley and I am proud to wear your family name.” She beamed and I blushed. Why did that make me blush?!

Bill started laughing and I joined in to distract them from my red cheeks.

“Say, Nova,” I cleared my throat, “what is Bill's full name?” Bill started chuckling again.

“Bill?” Nova said after giving it some thought. Tonks now stopped eating as apparently she found the whole situation rather amusing.

“Don't you think it's weird that I have a jumper with a letter C on it and you got one with a letter N on it? Why would Bill get one that stands for our family name?” I was barely holding in the laugher. Nova's confused face was just too good.

“I...I suppose it's a little weird.” Nova rubbed her chin.

“Nova, I thought you knew that my full name is William.” Bill gave in too quickly!

“William?! How do you get Bill from that?” Both Tonks and Nova were confused. Bill and I burst out laughing.

“You really thought...” I snorted.“That Bill was his full name!” Tonks joined the laugh now even though I was pretty sure she had no idea as well.

“Well, my full name is Nova!” She frowned at us. “So, I reckon it wouldn't be that strange if it was!”

We all fell silent. She was right. Her name was Nova and it wasn't short for anything. It wasn't like Bill for William or Charlie for Charles or Tonks for Nymphadora which had nothing to do with her first name yet here we are. She was just Nova and she was perfect. And here we go again with heart racing and red cheeks. Seriously, what is wrong with me?

“Hmm, you're right. It's an easy mistake.” Bill bestowed her with a friendly grin. I grabbed my orange juice, trying to hide behind the glass.

“But, of course, you can say that the W stands for Weasley. I don't mind.” Bill continued. “Just give it a few years and Charlie will make you an official Weasley anyway!” I choked on my juice.

I didn't even have the time to glare at him as he stood up and practically ran away from the table. I looked at Tonks and Nova. Tonks had an amused look on her face. Nova looked confused on the other hand.

“Charlie, what did Bill mean by that? Do you have a cru...”

“Adopting!” I blurted, not really knowing what I was saying. I just wanted to stop Tonks from asking what I think she wanted to ask. My cheeks were burning more than ever and my heart was beating so fast that I was sure the girls could see it through my shirt.

“He meant adopting. I will adopt you!” I pointed my finger at Nova, her eyes widened in surprise and I stood up.

“He really is on his period.” I heard Tonks whisper to Nova as I ran after Bill. Soon, I will be the oldest in my family because I am going to kill him with my bare hands!

Before I could reach him, someone grabbed my hand. I turned around and saw Nova. I think at that moment my heart stopped beating as I was staring at us holding hands.

“Are you ready?” She beamed at me, now letting go of it. I had to force myself not to grab it again. What is happening to me?

“Ready for what?” I snapped out of it.

“To ask Bill to give us dueling lessons? Did you forget?” She looked concerned.

“Right!” I said quickly. I completely forgot about that.

“Are you okay? You seem a little out of it today?” She placed her hand on my back.

“Fine. Just a slight headache.” I smiled, hoping she couldn't feel me tense up when she touched me.

“I am sure it will pass.” She smiled. “Just make sure you're drinking a lot of water.”

“Yes, mum.” She laughed.

“Did you come up with an excuse for why we need dueling lessons?” She asked.

“Well, I was thinking we could say that we are planning to join the Dueling Club and we would like to practice.” That was the first thing that popped into my mind.

“That's brilliant, Char! He's never going to question that!” She put her arm around my shoulder and pressed me against her.

All her actions of affection were getting rather painful. I never gave them much thought as we did this all the time, but I couldn't handle my cheeks being red every time she was around, I felt nauseous and smiled and stared at her like an idiot. Can I blame the hormones for that, because I am a rat's toenail away from asking Bill about it!

“How is Barnaby doing with the brooms?” She interrupted the conflict in my mind.

“I think he got two and is looking for a way to get the third one. People are starting to question why he needs so many.” I chuckled.

“Perhaps we don't need three brooms.” Nova rubbed her chin, thinking.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, brooms can hold more than one person,” she started to explain, “you and I can share a one.”

“We can what?” My heart was racing again. It was getting annoying at this point.

“Share a broom. Unless you would rather share it with Barnaby.” She winked at me and chuckled.

We finally found Bill in the Library and much to my surprise my plan on telling him we wanted to join the Duelling Club actually worked. He told us to meet him by the Lake after lunch and he would think of a couple of spells he could teach us.

—

“So,” Bill clapped his hands when we were ready to begin our lesson, “you probably know the basics: Expelliarmus, Flipendo, Incendio?” He asked and we both nodded.

“How about Immobulus and Depulso?” Continued Bill.

“I think we are pretty good with those.” Nova looked at me for reassurance, I nodded.

“Well, is there a particular spell you would like to practice?” Bill scratched the top of his head as he wasn't sure how to best approach this.

“How about Petrificus Totalus and Protego?” I remembered that I wasn't very good with those two and I could use some practice as they could come in handy in the Forest.

“Oh, yeah.” I reminded Nova.

“Okay, we'll start with these two, and then perhaps I could teach you Bombardaand Confringo. I think those could be quite useful and impress the Duelling Club.” Bill looked rather pleased with himself now. Sometimes he was a git, teasing me but most of the time he was the best big brother.

I had to hand it to Bill as he was a great teacher. I only needed about ten minutes to perfect my Petrificus Totalus and the way he explained how we should approach Confringo made almost more sense than how Professor Rakepick was teaching us.

By the end of the lesson, both Nova and I were confident that we were ready to go into the Forest again and even though Barnaby couldn't join us for Bill's lesson, we were sure we would be able to protect him if anything ought to go wrong.

“Blimey, Bill. Thank you.” I said as we started walking up to the Castle.

“Yeah, this was great!” Nova grinned.

“We are ready for the Forest now!” I closed my eyes as I knew the second the words came out of my mouth that I was in trouble.

“The Forest?” Bill stopped walking. “What do you mean the Forest?”

“Uhm...” I looked at Nova, hoping she could come up with something but she was stunned, panic on her face.

“Charlie...” Bill said through his teeth. “Were you planning to sneak into the Forest?” He frowned.

“No?” Why did I say that as a question! He is really going to kill me now.

“Are you two kidding me!” He looked at Nova now too. She had a special kind of expression whenever she was in trouble. Her eyes got bigger and she nibbled on the inside of her lip. She was so cute.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Bill crossed his arms on his chest.

“We...uhm...we weren't planning to go far. Just like, to see what there is to see.” I decided that telling him the truth would be better than telling another lie, he was mad enough as it is.

“Planning to see what there is.” Bill slammed his hand on his forehead. “Didn't your detention with Hagrid teach you anything?” I could barely keep my mouth shut. If he only knew that we enjoyed the detention Snape gave us so much that we snuck into the Forest ourselves and almost got eaten by baby Acromentulas.”

“Look, Bill. You're not going to stop us.” I did this once before at home with Quidditch. He had to write an essay over the Summer in his First Year and I was too young to watch the twins while playing Quidditch with them, so I made him so mad that he actually agreed to go with us. If I could somehow convince him to go into the Forest with us, we will be able to go.

“The hell I'm not! If I write to mum right now...”

“If you write to mum right now we would be out of the Forest by the time she sends me a Howler.” I interrupted him. Nova stared at us with her mouth open. I think she couldn't believe that I had the courage to stand up to Bill like that.

“Oh, yeah! Well...” I left Bill speechless. He knew he won't be able to stop us.

“Well, what?” I didn't give up.

“Well, then I'm coming with you!” He frowned. Nova gasped.

“Fine then!” I pretended that that wasn't exactly what I wanted.

We started walking towards the Castle again, Bill saying something under his breath, still mad at us.

“That was bloody brilliant.” Nova whispered to me.

“Thank you. However, I think we might need three brooms now.” I chuckled, feeling my cheeks turning red again.

[frostedfaves]

Damage (2)

Part 1

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N attempts to avenge her mother and save future victims.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, family angst, magical angst, death

-

"It's clear here. You should be able to get all the way to the storage room without detection."

Y/N turned to the group after doing a quick sweep of the building with her powers. Jake nods in response, his features quickly shifting into a frown when he saw her magically open the door. He was quick to grab her arm before she could step inside.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as urgently as possible.

"Going in," she responded with a confused look before going to walk in again, the grip around her arm only tightening. "Jake, let go."

"No, you can't go in. You'll get hurt."

Y/N rolled her eyes at him. "Jake, I'm the least of your worries. I literally have powers to protect me and you made me wear this vest." She noticed the concern still swimming in his eyes and sighed. "Don't worry. I'll stick behind you guys and keep the exits sealed to trap them."

"Fine." He couldn't help the smile that broke through in response to her grin as he let her go and they entered the building.

-

The team spent weeks following that night of successful busts rounding up the entirety of Patali's men. Turns out there were a lot of them. After news broke--much to the dismay of the squad--that some had been captured, the rest quickly fled into hiding. Unfortunately for them, they didn't have powers to counteract Y/N's. By now, they'd arrested and charged every member of the drug ring, but had yet to catch their leader.

-

"Hey, Y/N!" Amy greeted with a smile as she and the other squad members walked into Y/N's apartment, the rest giving her the same line or a simple head nod. She was just about to close the door when she realized there was one person missing.

"I can't believe you were gonna lock out your favorite."

Y/N turned back to see Jake's hand inches away from hers on the door to stop it from closing, unable to fight the warmth in her cheeks. "Well it's not my fault you were late. You snooze, you lose, Peralta."

"Well then, I guess I'll just take my gift back--"

"Gift?" She grabbed his arm from behind his back to reveal a bag from her favorite craft store. "What did you...?" She let the sentence fade as she met Jake's eyes again.

"Well," he began as he came in finally and closed the door behind himself, meeting her eyes again with a shy smile. "I may have done a little digging and found out that today was your birthday so... happy birthday." His smile fell when he noticed the tears building in her eyes. "Oh no, did I get the date wrong?"

"No, no," she quickly reassured him, blinking back the building tears with a small sniffle. "Sorry, I just haven't gotten a birthday gift in like years so..." Before she could overthink it, she rushed forward to wrap her arms around him,, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Jake."

He let out a low chuckle, forcing himself not to enjoy the warmth that radiated from her body pressed against his or the pleasant scent of whatever wonderful perfume she'd sprayed that morning. "You don't even know what it is."

"Doesn't matter. Thank you." She opened her eyes and noticed everyone staring at them, quickly pulling away and clearing her throat. "Right, so anyway." She took the bag from Jake and dropped it on a nearby table as she came to sit in front of the group.

"Now that I've got you all here, I'm pleased to say that I've figured out a way to catch my dad. I'm going to lure him to my childhood home. His last remaining piece of home is hidden there. All I have to do is find it, break it, and he'll come rushing back to find whoever did it and punish them. I'll drain his powers and then you can arrest him. It should be easy, since he's literally nothing without the extra help."

"Are you sure you can do it without him hurting you, though?" Charles questioned with a hint of fear in his features, and Y/N couldn't help but appreciate his concern.

"He may have gotten away with a lot of things in his life, but I'm not letting him get away with anymore. What he's failed to realize all this time is that constantly killing and mentally destroying people paired with aging takes a toll on the body, magical or not." She stood up then, unable to fight the grin that followed.

"Let's go put that old man in jail."

-

They got out of the van outside of the house half an hour later wearing bulletproof vests. Y/N met eyes with Jake again and before she could question the look he gave her, Rosa bumped shoulders with her.

"All good inside?" she questioned quietly.

"Give me a second." She closed her eyes and ran through the building in her mind, being sure to check even the surrounding area for traps before opening her eyes again. "All good. Let's go."

The squad followed her inside and locked the door behind themselves as Y/N turned to face them all, her eyes watering slightly.

"I'm pretty confident that I'll get him and that I can protect you guys from him, but just in case..." 

She stepped in front of Terry, who was the closest. After conjuring up a large ball of glittering pink, she cracked it over his head like an egg and the insides covered him until his entire body glowed in the color. She repeated this action with everyone, getting to Jake last and sending him a quick--hopefully reassuring--smile before coming back to stand in front of everyone.

"I thought about making you all invisible but he'll know you're here regardless. This will protect you from any trick he uses to escape or try to get inside my head."

-

They followed Y/N around the house as she looked for the item, staring at the place in awe. The house was really a smaller scale mansion, lined with too many expensive items to count. Despite this being the home that Y/N grew up in, there were no pictures of her or her mother. Only intricate portraits of Pavlo himself in different poses, further proving his hatred of everyone but himself.

"I found it!"

They all followed her voice into a room with marble flooring, empty of everything except a long shelf filled with different books, expensive lamps, and other items the group couldn't seem to identify. They watched as Y/N turned around with a black box in her hands, opening it to reveal the shiniest jewel they'd ever seen.

"It's a Nuxvarian diamond," she added when she caught sight of their confused faces. "You leave it to protect a place you care about. Nothing bad can happen to it, or the place it's guarding while it's here. At least, until it's magically destroyed."

She tossed it out of the box and into the air away from everyone, quickly dropping the box and using both hands to shoot rays of pink toward the object. Everyone ducked as it broke into pieces with a deafening crack, turning to dust as it hit the floor.

"Cool," Rosa muttered with a grin that shocked the hell out of Y/N, just before the ground began to shake in the place where the diamond dust landed.

"Shit, that was fast," Y/N whispered with even wider eyes.

"What should we do?" Terry quickly asked in a panic, bringing Y/N back to her senses.

"Um, just get against that wall and do not try to jump in under any circumstances, got it?" She watched as they nodded and got into position before turning back to the dust, trying to gulp down any fear that threatened to escape.

Seconds later, Pavlo appeared in full human form, giving her a look that would melt any regular human to a puddle.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Y/N?"

"Hello to you, too, Dad."

He lashed out in anger with a ray of black glitter, but Y/N was quick to send it back to him, managing to cut his arm open in the process. His head fell back as he roared with laughter in response.

"Wow. Look at you, all grown up! Here to avenge your mommy's death? And what, you brought your little friends to watch?" He gestured to the detectives and Y/N couldn't help sparing them a glance, careful not to linger on Jake's fearful gaze. "Answer me!"

Y/N ducked as another ray was sent to her that she didn't have time to block. "Stop! You think you have any right to be angry? You can find more people to run your stupid fucking drug ring but I can't just find a new fucking mom, or get back all those years of being a normal child that I lost! So stop the tantrum and act like a rational adult for once in your fucking life!"

Pavlo let out another roar, the humor missing this time. "You're talking a lot of big shit for such a small brat. You forget that I had Nuxvar crumbling at my feet within minutes with my bare hands, so I won't even break a sweat dealing with a tiny piece of shit like you."

Y/N paused to take a deep breath, trying not to let him take her too far into her anger. "It doesn't matter what you say anymore. When I'm done with you, you'll be just another sad sack rotting away in jail because you couldn't just do the right thing and be a decent person."

"And how do you expect to get me there? I destroyed the one thing that gave you a chance against me."

"You didn't destroy the copy." She pulled the shrunken copy from her pants pocket, magically growing it to regular size and tossing it at him. "This ends today."

He simply glanced at the book in his hand before dropping it with a sinister chuckle, his eyes turning completely black as he kept them trained on hers. Y/N watched him fearfully, jumping when she suddenly heard her mother's voice directly in her ears.

"You shouldn't do this, Y/N..."

"No--"

"You know this isn't what I want..."

"Dad, stop--"

"I'm glad Pavlov killed me, or I would've had to do it myself..."

"Stop! Fucking stop!"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, clamping her hands over her ears in a failed attempt to keep the layered whispers out that were coming from inside her own head. Her breathing and heart rate quickened continuously as she felt herself going mentally insane the longer this went on. Finally deciding she'd had enough, a long, piercing scream followed by a thick cloud of glittering pink was released before she could stop it. It exploded even bigger, shaking the whole room and seeming to destroy everything within the four walls as it threw her backwards to the ground with the force of it.

When it finally cleared, the detectives looked around as their protective glaze disappeared. Jake instantly ran to Y/N, mind thinking the worst as the rest of the squad recovered.

"Y/N? Y/N!" His arms wrapped around her as soon as he saw her sit up, pulling back for a second to brush her hair away from her face. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She pulled herself out of her exhausted haze to attempt a response, her words falling short when she caught sight of the other side of the room.

"No," she croaked out.

"What? Y/N, what--"

"No!"

She pushed herself off the floor, running and falling to her knees again in the spot where her father stood, a pile of ash all that remained.

"No no no, fuck!"

"Y/N, it's okay." Jake commented, by her side again within seconds, until she pulled away from him again.

"No Jake, I was just supposed to take his powers, not his life! Now I'm just like him!"

"Y/N, listen to me," Jake practically growled out as he came face to face with her once more, this time placing his hands on her cheeks to hold her close. "You are nothing like him, okay? You did what you had to do to protect us and yourself. He did damage. You did good for the world. It's not your fault."

Y/N stared into his eyes a moment longer until sobs began falling from her mouth, her body collapsing into his arms once more as her tears soaked the shoulder of his shirt. She squeezed her eyes shut once more, grateful for the contrasting silence of the room as she tried to wrap her head around the mess she created. Jake was right, but he was also wrong.

She did damage, too.

[whatsseobb]

Something Old, Something New (Crystal x Gigi Fanfic) - Chapter 9

AO3 Link

[A/N: I just love this Gigi look so much I had to include it here. ^_^]

Synopsis: Crystal finds an enchanting jewelry box from the antique shop. Day by day, she discovers different journal entries hidden inside the box. Where is it coming from? What exactly is the music box? Most importantly, who is G?

Chapter Nine - Your Smile

The teenage girl found herself confounded at the information she just read. Gigi. 1959. Gigi. 1959. Those were the thoughts that echoed in her mind as she stared at her laptop screen. How is that even possible? She read the whole article, looking at the pictures of newspaper articles about the art contest. She also saw some pictures during the competition, even a picture of the winner. Her hands scrambled its way through her desk, looking at the letter and the photograph that Gigi sent her.

“Smith Memorial Art Contest had been held every fall for almost a decade in honor of Doctor Charles Smith. It was mostly dominated by men for the first few years of the competition. However, a female student from the small county of St. Clair, Illinois broke the record in 1959.”

Crystal spent the night thinking of the possibility of Gigi living her life back in the 50’s. Questions consumed her mind that she forgot to congratulate the girl or greet her good night.  She woke up feeling tired, dark circles under her eyes.

 School and her school works weren’t able to help distract her from the revelation she just discovered the night before. It hadn’t left her mind since the last evening. She sat by her desk, staring at the picture of Gigi beside the drawing she made of them few weeks prior. Suddenly, the jewelry box started playing music, telling her that the other girl sent her a letter which she decided to read the next morning.

The letter from Gigi suddenly felt surreal. The thoughts of the other girl coming from a different era remained unbelievable for her. It didn’t feel right, but it wasn’t wrong either.

She found herself lost in her thoughts as she stared at the drawing of them on the side of her mirror. Slowly, things started to patch together, as if like slowly completing a puzzle. Gigi’s handwriting, her choice of words or clothes or the way she sent her those old photographs. It never occurred to her why she did not ask her of her phone number or anyway she can contact her online but it all made sense. She couldn’t. It was because she was from a different time than Crystal.

 The next afternoon, Crystal found herself walking towards the thrift shop that her friend Jackie owned. She was greeted with a welcoming smile from the owner.

“Miss Crystal, how are you?” Jackie spoke as she put some trinkets on the shelves. “There is a new batch of sweaters that arrived yesterday. It’s just back there.”

“Do you still have that painting?” The teenager walked over the art section, scanning the place for the art piece that she had her eyes on the last time she went to the store.

“Which one? There are a lot of paintings there.”

“The portrait of a girl. It’s this smiling girl.”

It took her a few minutes before she spotted the painting. A big smile flashed on her face as she recognized the portrait that Gigi painted. Her fingers slightly stroked the edges, running her thumb on the signature on the lower corner of the artwork. It definitely was Gigi’s work.

Crystal left the shop feeling triumphant and excited as she take home the portrait that Gigi made. The memory of that dream when she met the scarlet-haired girl, the one when the other girl showed her a sketch of the two of them together. However, the reality of them being separated by time haunted her as she made her way home.

 Her hands dropped on her side, the teenager walked on a field of green grass, her fingers touching the flowers surrounding her. She continued her stroll until she arrived on a clearing, a small lake at the end of her view. There, she saw a young lady, sitting down while reading a thin booklet. She moved closer towards the picnic area when she saw the same portrait she just bought from Jackie’s thrift shop.

“Finally.” The young lady let out a soft sigh as she put down her book before standing up and wrapping her arms around Crystal. “You made me worry. I am glad you are here now. I missed you.”

Crystal remained quiet as she sat down beside Gigi, looking inside the picnic basket as she tried to distract herself from looking at the other girl.

“Are you all right? Is something wrong, Crys?” Gigi’s soft voice echoed in Crystal’s ears. She looked up at the girl and gave her a small smile.

“No no. I’m fine. Congratulations on winning, by the way. I’m sorry I was just busy with school works so I had no time to send you a letter. I got caught up with everything.” The teenager tried to liven up her voice but she knew what she said was a lie. In fact, she was trying to avoid Gigi after the information she learned.

“Oh, no problem and thank you! I brought it here with me today. I was planning on giving it to you in reality. I just didn’t know how. Maybe you can send me your address and I’ll gift it to you!”

“No need.”

“What do you mean? I want to give it to you as a gift.” A hint of disappointment was heard from Gigi’s voice as her sweet smile turned into a frown.

“I… I actually just bought the painting. Your painting.” Crystal whispered in a low voice, not expecting Gigi to actually hear it.

“Bought it? But it’s not for sale… and how?”

Crystal picked up the frame and a faint smile crept on her face as she stared at Gigi’s artwork. “You did really incredible on this one, Geege. I love it very much.”

As if what she heard earlier was nothing, Gigi’s frown slowly shaped into one of her honey-dipped smiles. She was fascinated and thankful that Crystal loved her work. “Thank you. It’s actually you, in that painting. Your smile is my happiness.”

The corner of Crystal’s lips formed a bigger smile then dropped after hearing Gigi’s words. The young lady must’ve noticed the change in her mood. She put her hand on top of Crystal’s hand which the teenager pulled away in an instant.

“Crys, darling, what’s wrong?”

Silence filled the area as the teenager slowly put down the painting. She turned to look at the lake in front of them, staring at the vast horizon. It was getting a bit dark but they both didn’t mind. They were focused on just the two of them, sitting there by the lake.

“Everything. Everything’s wrong.”

The look of confusion painted on Gigi’s face as she took Crystal’s hand once more. She caressed it softly, trying to comfort the other girl. “W-what do you mean?” Her voice slightly cracked as she gazed at her.

“I think we should stop from here.”

“Stop? Crystal, I am deeply confused with everything you are telling me right now.”

“We can’t go on anymore. We have to stop this delusion. We have to stop writing to each other. We have to… end this.” Crystal’s voice broke off as she shared her sentiments to the scarlet-haired girl in front of her.

“W-what do you mean? Why? How can we stop now?”

“I don’t know. I just know that we should cut ties.”

“No. I can’t not be with you.”

Crystal covered her face in frustration as she faced the other girl. “But you have to. We can’t go on like this.”

“But I like you.”

The sudden confession from Gigi caught the teenager by surprise. She did not know what to feel as the hearing someone liked her that way especially that it was Gigi. For the first time, Crystal wanted to wake up from her dreams. She could not believe what the scarlet-haired girl had uttered and the fact that she didn’t want to tell her the truth face to face made it more difficult for her.

“No. I’m sorry, Geege.” She took a deep breathe before she continued. “We… we can’t be together.”

“What do you mean? I know it’s the 50’s and people would frown upon us. However, we don’t have to listen to them. We can be together. We’ll fight… for us.” The young lady took Crystal’s hand with her both hands but the other removed it from her grip right away.

“Do… do you not like to be with me, Crystal? I thought our date the other time went well. I thought you would have feelings for me too.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

The teenager picked up the portrait and the corner of her lips showed a small, sad smile. Her eyes darted on Gigi who was wiping her tears.

“Thank you for bringing this here and wanting to give this to me. But I saw it from a thrift shop, the same place I bought your jewelry box from. And I bought it.” She took another deep breath before continuing. “We can’t be together. You said it’s the 50’s but no, it’s not. It’s 2019 already. We are years apart. We can’t be together.”

Crystal saw Gigi’s lips moving as if saying something but everything slowly became blurry. She was hearing no sounds, except the sound of someone weeping. As she touched her own cheeks, she noticed them being wet. When she opened her eyes, she was back in her room, tears flowing down her face. She looked around and saw the portrait that the other girl painted of her. A slight pain was felt on her chest as she felt more sadness inside. It reminded her of last night’s dream.

[subukunojess]

Your New Best Friend

Finally, a new fic! I have always wanted to write for the Beetlejuice fandom and with the whole chaotic life going on, I got some time to write it. It has taken me months, but I finally finished this. I’ve always wanted to write a one-shot about what happened between acts of the musical and really delve into Lydia and Beetlejuice’s friendship. I hope you guys enjoy under the cut!

Your New Best Friend

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical

Major Characters: Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz

Word Count: 6,018

Links: Archive of Our Own, Deviantart, Fanfiction

Summary:  What happens to Lydia after she summons a demon at Dinner Night and kicks out all the adults? A sleepover filled with vandalism, pizza, and beheadings, that's what. Oh and friendship too!

When Lydia Deetz summoned Beetlejuice in anger, she didn't know what to expect. Her entire plan turned out wrong that night. Everyone seemed to enjoy getting possessed by actual ghosts, treating it as if it were a joke. A money-making joke to dance and celebrate about. It made her sick. She had her doubts when she stood on the dining table and called out his name, sensing him materialize right by her side. She hesitated until she saw her own father kiss Delia, a woman he dared to replace her dead mother with. At that point, the third call rumbled out of her mouth in a natural scream that didn't hold back. 

"BEETLEJUICE!"

Then all hell broke loose. 

Food and furniture went flying in different directions. Chandeliers caught on fire. A murderous roast pig went on a rampage. It wasn't until the ghost summoned a giant version of himself, complete with massive hands and an even bigger head, that everyone decided to run for their lives out of the house. Lydia sat down on one of the chairs, watching all the chaos happen before her. She got a glimpse of Charles reaching out to her by the door and for a moment, she raised her hand slightly towards him, only for her to drop it and turned her head away while closing her eyes tight. She heard the front doors slam shut with a loud bang, then silence. She opened her eyes and she was met with an empty house. No family. No humans. No ghosts. Just her and the demon she summoned.

"You did it." Lydia said in a quiet voice, still in awe and shock that what transpired was real. She stood up from the chair and went up to the demon. "He's really gone?"

"Oh yeah," Beetlejuice nodded with a wicked grin on his face, "It's our house now, kid!" He snapped his fingers and a burst of energy surged through Lydia and the entire house, sending a shiver to the girl's spine. Then the walls popped with black and white stripes as the furniture and decorations warped into twisted contortions of themselves. Both the human and demon slowly turned into a circle, watching this change happen right before their eyes. 

"Whoa." Was all Lydia could mutter at the moment once the initial changes were complete. 

"Looks like we're not invisible anymore!" Beetlejuice crooned, his voice even more gravely as he wrapped his arm around Lydia's shoulders with a triumphant laugh and pulled her close, proud of his handiwork and excited for the chaos to come. For a moment, the lights flickered a couple of minutes as the two stood at the center of the living room, taking it all in. Then Beetlejuice dropped his arm and glanced at Lydia to see her reaction. 

There was a spark in her eyes that the demon hadn't seen before. It wasn't like her resting mourning face or her mischievous grin. It was a genuine sparkle of awe and happiness. At least, he guessed it was. He wasn't sure with breather emotions. 

Then Lydia did something that took him aback; she closed her eyes and let out a snarling roar that rolled into howling laughter. She twirled and hopped in place, flapping her hands as fast as she could while chirping and squealing. When she heard herself doing that, she opened her eyes and stopped immediately.

"I'm sorry." Lydia said, looking away out of embarrassment. "I-"

"What are ya saying sorry for?" Beetlejuice asked with a scoff before he grinned and bounced on his heels in excitement, waving his hands in circles. "No one has ever reacted like that to my work before. I like it! Gimme more of that! Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

Lydia blinked, flabbergasted at the response. Then again, this was a demonic spirit thing that was probably invisible since forever she was talking to. Although she had to keep on her toes, she decided to throw caution to the wind on embarrassment by pushing herself forward with a smile, waving her hands around as well. 

"That was cool and scary at the same time!" Lydia exclaimed with a laugh as she and Beetlejuice bounced together. "The way they screamed and ran as your arms were like WOOSH! Now that's what I call a dinner party!" After a minute of laughter, she steadied her breathing and stopped in thought. She didn't think she'd get this far into her plan if she were being honest with herself. Lydia expected something to backfire and her father to punish her in some way. Now that she was alone with the demon, she didn't know what came next.

"... So what now?" She asked with a tilt of her head. Beetlejuice grinned.

"Anything you want, kid; we're free! No boring breathers or newly-deads tying us down! It's time to go wild and have some real fun!" He floated up a few feet in the air, streamers popping out of his hands before he landed back down on his feet. "Remember: no holding back on me, Lyds. Tonight's your night, so you get to call the shots! Think of all the things ya wanted to do without Chuck and adults around and do 'em!"

"Okay...?" Lydia quirked an eyebrow, hesitant. After thinking for a moment, she went and picked up an oddly-shaped vase from a stand nearby. Strange how Delia's 'art work' didn't change with the rest of the house. She jutted her hip to the side and mocked, "As my guru Otho always says..." She then threw the vase hard on the ground, shattering it into pieces as she exclaimed, "Shut up, Delia!"

"Yeah, shut up, Debra!" Beetlejuice cheered in agreement as he stuck a striped tongue out towards the broken pieces. "Serves her right trying to tell you what to do!"

Lydia nodded. She reached for another piece of artwork when she stopped herself. She didn't want to make too much of a mess and most of the other pieces were heavy anyway. It wasn't because she felt sorry for the woman trying so hard to get her to like her. To change. Not at all! She recovered by rolling her head back to stretch it out. She probably looked ridiculous, but this was her night after all. It wouldn't hurt to act like a demon. 

"As much as I want to break more things, I got a better idea. Let's trash Daddy's office!" Lydia suggested. 

The demon clapped and rubbed his hands together with a sinister smile. "Oooooh, let's!"

"Last one there's a rotten egg!" With a sly grin, the girl poked at Beetlejuice's nose, tagged him, then ran off with a laugh. It took the demon a minute what had just happened. 

"Hey, that's not fair!" He protested, but laughed as well as he dashed up the stairs after her. 

On the second floor, Lydia ran down the hallway and skidded until she arrived at her destination at the end of the hallway. She got inside the room first, surveying her father's office of what potential damage to cause. The office wasn't too elaborate, consisting of a file cabinet, book shelf, desk, and laptop. Charles didn't get to set up the desktop yet. From the corner of her eye, Lydia saw a picture frame lying face down on the desk. She carefully picked it up and gasped.

It was a family portrait with her dead mom. Emily Deetz was a foot or two shorter than her father, but she easily dominated the photograph with her smile. Lydia would best describe her mother as a chocolate cake decorated with black icing laced into spider web designs, cookies that looked like gravestones, and whipped frosting that were shaped to be ghosts. On the day of the photo, Emily wore a straw sunhat, a nice lilac blouse with a pair of jeans, a pair of rose-gold eyeglasses, and her bat necklace which was really a large rubber, red-eyed bat with a string attached to each wing. Her mom would say that on a full moon, she would turn into a giant bat demon that preyed on vampires, monsters under the bed, and tangerines. It made the young girl smile each time she said it. 

Lydia placed a hand over her mouth and choked a silent sob. She didn't think her dad would keep the picture let alone have it framed on his desk. Before she could process it further, she heard the demon coming from down the hall. Alarmed, she unfastened the back of the frame and pulled the picture out, placing it in a pocket of her dress before she threw the empty frame to the ground.

"Hey, don't start without me, Lyds!" She heard Beetlejuice exclaim outside the room.

Lydia turned towards Beetlejuice, only to shriek when she saw a huge rotting egg slanted against the wall instead. She covered her mouth as she watched the thing sprout golden eyes. 

"Guess I'm the rotten egg." The egg spoke in Beetlejuice's voice.

"Couldn't you just teleport or go through walls or something?!"

"Whoops! Kinda got lost in the moment there." With a puff of green smoke, Beetlejuice shifted back to normal, dusting his suit a bit. He then cracked his knuckles as he went inside the office. "So how should we wreck this place? You take the first swing." He then gasped and snapped his fingers before he suddenly pulled out a baseball bat from behind his back and handed it to Lydia with a smile. She smirked and rolled her eyes in response, but her face fell when she grasped the bat in her hands and surveyed the room. It was different thinking of all the things she could do out of anger versus actually doing them. The bat trembled in her grasp for a minute, but she thought about her father and steeled her resolve as she raised the bat.

"This is for ignoring me." Lydia said, then whacked the desk in front of her as hard as she could. 

"Yes." Beetlejuice nodded with a wide grin, taking a step back as Lydia swung at the walls and furniture. 

"This is for moving out of our house!"

"Yeah! Keep it going, kid!"

"This is for treating me like I'm invisible!" Lydia roared as she threw the bat down on the chair. 

"There ya go! That's what I'm talkin' about! Lemme do something! Lemme do something! I can do anything ya want-" Beetlejuice stopped himself when Lydia opened her mouth to speak and he cut her to it. "Except setting the room on fire. Am I right? You breathers usually don't like rooms on fire. I can even eat anything!"

Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"

"Anything."

Upon hearing that, the teen looked around until she spotted something in a hidden shelf: her father's laptop. Grinning, she grabbed it along with its plug and shook it right in front of the demon. "How about this then?"

Beetlejuice nodded, excited. "I never had that before! Throw it here!" The ghost smiled as he floated backwards and opened his mouth in order to catch the object like a snack.

Lydia immediately closed her eyes when she saw him open his mouth. Jaws should not bend that way. Ever. She counted to three and threw the laptop in Beetlejuice's direction. She heard a couple of chews and swallows before she opened her eyes to see Beetlejuice slurp up the charger cable like spaghetti. Once it was swallowed, he hiccuped and licked his teeth clean of keyboard letters. Lydia took a wary step back. 

"Do you eat teens by any chance?" She asked out of curiosity, hoping that he didn't. The prospect didn't seem to look good as the demon floated in her direction and poked at her arm in thought. She sighed in relief when he shook his head. 

"Nah, it depends. Yer kinda scrawny lookin' to me and ya probably taste salty. Besides, adults got more meat on 'em!" 

"Oh... good to know. If we have any cranky neighbors, I'll feed them to you!" Lydia smiled nervously as she held a thumbs up, not knowing whether he was serious or not. Or both. Once she saw that the damage was enough in the room, she led the demon out to the hall.

"Before we do anything else, I got to change out of this dress. It's too... bright and cheerful." Lydia almost gagged, then she smirked at the ghost. "Meet me downstairs?"

"You know it." Beetlejuice pointed finger guns at the teenager before he teleported himself back downstairs, sitting on a chair covered in spikes. He stared off in thought. 

"... can you believe it?" Beetlejuice addressed his audience as he pointed a thumb upwards. "A breather who actually sees me and she said my name. And we got an entire haunted house to ourselves! This is going to be- oh my gosh, I know this fanfiction trope!" In an instant, the demon took out a printed packet from his back and skimmed through it, squinting a little. "This is the part where the writer goes in between scenes from the original source material in order to show character development, relationships, and something called 'fluff'."

Beetlejuice paused with a neutral expression on his face until he suddenly burst out guffawing and slapping his knee, throwing the packet over his shoulder and causing it to burst into flames and disappear. 

"Like that'll ever happen!" He exclaimed after his fit of laughter, standing back up. His face lit up when he heard footsteps from above and he turned his head to see Lydia at the top of the steps. Instead of a normal nightgown or whatever young breathers wore to sleep, she seemed to wear a red poncho that looked just like a spider web over a black shirt and leggings. She also wore fake claws in both her hands, a makeshift wolf tail tied around her waist like a belt, and one of those headband things with animal ears on her head. Around her neck was one of those traditional cameras he had seen breather tourist with whenever he got the chance to explore. With her pale face and eye shadow, she looked spooky.

Lydia let out a loud roar as she laughed, stomping down the stairs, "Grrr! I am Lydia Deetz, the Werewolf Demon! I've come to scare the breathers, kiss all the cool girls, and eat everybody else!"

"Oh no! Connecticut is doomed!" Beetlejuice laughed along with her. He floated right behind her and suddenly grabbed her, lifting her off the ground. Lydia was about to protest when she looked down and saw how high off the ground she was. 

"I'm... floating? I'm floating!" She smiled and let the demon lift her up higher to the ceiling. She outstretched her arms and wiggled her claws, pretending she was a flying witch or a real ghost. She then snarled to the air. 

"Ya need fangs ta be a werewolf demon!" Beetlejuice concluded after taking Lydia's new costume into consideration. With a blink of his eyes, a couple of Lydia's teeth sharpened into fangs, making the girl's grin grow. He chuckled and levitated back down to the floor. "What's with the red spiderweb get-up anyway?"  

"My mom made it herself because I liked spiders. When I was little, I pretended to be a spider witch and I begged to be one when I got older. I wear it to bed every night ever since." Lydia said as she fiddled with one of the poncho's edges and she was placed down. "My favorite Halloween costume was this full body werewolf suit my parents got me when I was nine or ten. It doesn't fit me anymore, so I had to improvise."

"Huh. Even some breathers have good tastes." The demon commented, his face unreadable, but he gave her a thumbs up. Lydia poked her new fangs with the tip of her own tongue before her face lit up.

"I gotta get a picture of this. To celebrate our new house!" She went up to Beetlejuice and grabbed her camera, turning it around towards them and pressing on a button as the camera flashed and the demon winced, shutting his eyes tight. 

"Sorry! Didn't think making an old time selfie would be weird." Lydia apologized. While he adjusted his eyes and the photograph started to develop, Lydia also took out her cell phone from one of her pockets. Although she had a phone and she appreciated the modern advances of cameras in her generation, there was something about using a traditional camera that her parents used and a physical photograph instantly appeared that appealed to her. Nonetheless, the occasion called for both types of pictures. When Beetlejuice was ready, Lydia opened up the camera on her phone and took a picture of herself and Beetlejuice with playful, snarling faces and no flash that time. She then went to her gallery and to her surprise, there was Beetlejuice clear as night on her screen.

Beetlejuice gasped, grabbing the phone from the teenager's hands as he examined the handiwork, "I'm visible in photos and technology now! I wish I could say the same thing about the other one." A third arm of his seemed to pop out from the ground, holding a photograph of Lydia and a blurry shadow creature with two yellow lights in the background.

Lydia rolled her eyes and giggled as she reached for her phone. "Glad to make your night, then. Let me just post the digital one on my tumblr and twitter."

The demon almost dropped the cell phone in shock, but Lydia caught it just in time. 

"You got a tumblr too? We really are BFFFF's!" Beetlejuice grinned and bounced on his heels. 

"How did you get a- oh, wait. Let me guess: it's a hell site, so demons automatically get accounts?" Both she and Beetlejuice smirked and shot finger guns at each other.

"Exactly. You're catching on to the whole being a demon thing!"

"Good to know." The teenager typed and started posting as she continued, "I'm not an online person myself, but sometimes I post some good shots and see what's strange and unusual out in the world. What's your username so I could follow you?"

"3xthecharmguide: Shameless plug-in is shameless!" He announced in an almost mocking monotone as he looked out towards what she guessed was space. 

"What?"

"What?" Lydia snorted and shook her head. Once she had finished with her post, she searched for the username until she found his blog. "Huh.... just some pictures for now. I could help tune it out for you if you want. And wait till I show you Tik Tok!"

"You breathers are into clocks now?" Now it was Beetlejuice's turn to raise an eyebrow in confusion. The teenager chuckled and rolled her eyes. 

"I'll explain it later." She was about to say something else when she felt her stomach growl and she winced. She didn't eat anything for the whole day and she was too busy organizing the dinner party with the Maitlands to care. Beetlejuice seemed to hear the growl and raised an eyebrow.

"Hungry? All that food from that fancy party is probably gone by now. And I think I saw that roast pig almost ate a man. It. Was. Awesome!" 

It then occurred to Lydia: now that everyone living left, there was no one who would make dinner or drive to the grocery store anymore. Sure, she could cook simple things on the stove and use a microwave, but even with that, the fridge and pantry wasn't really filled up ever since she, her father, and Delia moved into the house. Curious, she turned to the demon.

"Can you cook?"

"Do you like stale popcorn and roasted rats?" Beetlejuice grinned as a large flame formed at the palm of his hand. Lydia stared at him in disgust, then pulled his hand down by the wrist without batting an eye.

"No, put the fire down. I'm good." She said, then shrugged. "We could order pizza? And I have a stash of snacks hidden in my room. If we're lucky, maybe there's a monster movie marathon tonight."

"Monster movie marathon?!" The demon exclaimed with a big smile on his face as he bounced on his heels. "Yes, yes, yes! That's a thousand times better! Let's do it!"

With a smile and a nod, Lydia strolled into the kitchen and dialed on her cell phone, calling the nearest pizza place in the area to order delivery as she opened the cupboards and got out two blenders. Luckily, the blenders didn't change with the kitchen and other appliances either. 

“Hey, can I have two large pepperoni, one mushroom, and one Meat Lovers all with extra cheese please?” She asked as she placed the blenders down onto the counter and plugged them in. Beetlejuice hovered over her like a child wanting attention and Lydia gently pushed him away. When he kept insisting, she went to the freezer and got an ice cube out, placing it on the edge of the counter without any thought to it. In response, the spirit focused on the cube and hovered over it instead. As Lydia listened to the person on the phone and gave them the address, she couldn’t help but feel like a mother. She suppressed a gulp and hung up the phone once the order was placed, trying to dismiss that thought from her head. 

"Lydia, the ice cube is shrinking!" Beetlejuice cried out as he pointed to the melting ice cube, poking at it with a finger. 

Lydia stared at disbelief, blinking a few times. "It's melting."

"'Oh... okay." The demon shrugged and seemed to accept this as he picked up the ice cube and placed it in his mouth. A few seconds later, he stuck a black and purple striped tongue out from his mouth, exclaiming, "All gone!"

With a chuckle, Lydia opened the fridge and got the milk, ice cream, and syrups, placing them onto the counter. She then got a big spoon, what was left of the cereals from the cupboards, and any other condiments she could find since something told her the demon had strange tastes.

"Unfortunately, we only got neo- neopol- Napoleon? Uhhhh... the chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla ice cream!" Lydia stuck her tongue out from stumbling on the word. "We're so gonna get new flavors for next time. Like Rocky Road! Or black cherry chocolate chip!"

"Or maggot chili chocolate and horse flesh!" Beetlejuice added with a smile. 

"Ewwww? I'm not going to ask." Lydia scooped up half a tub of ice cream for her blender and the rest for Beetlejuice's. She squirted strawberry syrup while the demon chose chocolate. As for toppings, they used sprinkles, different cereals, and mustard for some reason. For a last finishing touch, Beetlejuice added squirming earthworms and beetles in his blender. To make it fair, Lydia put two big helpings of gummy worms in hers. Once every ingredient was in, they blended their concoctions at the same time as some sort of race to see which one was done first. Beetlejuice won by default. Before they could prepare the other snacks, 

Ding-Dong!

"Pizza's here!" Beetlejuice cheered at the doorbell and clasped his hands together with a wicked grin on his face. "Let's scare 'em."

Lydia rolled her eyes and shrugged with her own grin. "Why not?" With a snap of the demon's fingers, the two disappeared in darkness and the front door opened to reveal a young adult male carrying a large insulated bag of pizza.

"Uh... pizza delivery?" The man called out to the house, noticing no one at first. He then gasped when Lydia popped up from the ground in front of him, her arms behind her back.

"To be...." She moved her arm forward to hold out Beetlejuice's head in her claws as she dramatically posed, "Or not to be!"

"Is that really the question?" The head replied with a crazed look in his eyes as he stared at the delivery boy, a fanged grin on his face. 

The delivery person dropped the bag and screamed at the top of his lungs in response before he charged out of the house and into the streets. 

"I love that sound!" Lydia and Beetlejuice sighed in unison. Lydia then turned Beetlejuice's head to face her as she lifted it up and they both laughed with the demon's body jumping in joy from the background.

Monster Movie Marathon night was underway without a hitch. Lydia got all the chips, candy, cookies, and juice boxes she had in her bedroom while Beetlejuice set up a brand new television decorated in stripes and spikes because aesthetic. Along with their pizza, snacks, and drinks, Beetlejuice also conjured up some popcorn, soda, and a pair of 3-D glasses for himself. When they had gathered up everything, the two of them hopped onto the sofa, blender glasses in hand, and Beetlejuice turned on the TV with a snap to his fingers.

"Good evening, Spooks and Ghouls." An announcer greeted from the television in an eerie echo that sent nostalgic chills to Lydia's spine. "We welcome you to our weekend monster movie marathon starting with that classic cult film 'The Boogeyman straight from Hell!'"

Beetlejuice and Lydia smirked as they grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza each. Pizza, monster films, and no crummy adults? What more could they need? They clinked their blenders together before taking a swig of their respective milkshakes in unison. The two then proceeded to watch the film, occasionally commenting on how cheesy or inaccurate it looked with the demon explaining what would really happen. At one point, Beetlejuice had swallowed his blender in one gulp, glass and machine included.

Lydia still couldn't believe that this striped man lying down on the floor and staring at the screen with a grin on his face, the same man who had begged on his hands and knees for her to say his name earlier yesterday, was an actual demon from Hell. She knew demons took on many forms, but a chubby dead guy who looked like a dumpster-diving raccoon didn't cross her mind. Even though she had her doubts, she was enjoying his company. He was funny, gross, scary, and goofy once she observed him. Back in New York, her only friend was her mother. She didn't really have a best friend until now.

Time passed and another movie played. A vampire flick. Lydia slouched forward, her head resting on the palms of her hands as she watched the film with an eager smile, engrossed by its tone and horror. Beetlejuice took up the rest of the unusual couch with his legs hanging off of the armchair that looked more like a tentacle as he laid on his back, crossing both his arms and legs, and stared at the ceiling in thought. He couldn't believe his luck or what happened either. He found a breather that could actually see him. At first, he planned on ditching the kid and the dreadful house somehow, but that changed within the last few hours. Lydia was much more fun than the stiffs he knew both in the Netherworld and the breathers residing in the house. She was creative, spooky, funny, dark, and one of the few beings that could keep up with his antics. Who knew there were breathers like this out in the world and he hadn't met them yet! He wished he had someone like Lydia in his younger centuries. 

Beetlejuice glanced to the side, watching as Lydia's grin grew at the sight of a breather's face contorting in horror with a shadow overwhelming them. The demon then smirked. Lydia Deetz was officially his new best friend and he was determined to keep it that way as long as possible. Forever even.

Before Lydia knew it, it was midnight. The movie marathon had ended and the TV shut off by itself. As she rubbed her eyes that seemed to buzz from focusing too much on the screen, she surveyed the damage of the living room. Or the after-living room now. Empty pizza boxes, chip bags, soda cans, and candy wrappers scattered across the floor. Crumbs were everywhere. Although Beetlejuice ate the most, Lydia felt stuffed from all that pizza and junk food she ate. She slowly stood up from the sofa and took a step forward, only to sway to the side. 

"Whoa there, Scarecrow!" Beetlejuice caught the girl in his arms just in time and pushed her back standing. "Ya look like you're about to pass out in a grave."

"Me? Pass out? Not for Lydia Chrysanthemum Deetz! I'm full of energy!" Lydia protested while holding back a yawn as she stood up straight and put her hands to her hips... only to fall back onto the sofa. 

Lydia took a few minutes to rest. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a tiny window near her eye. Upon seeing it, she jolted awake and sat up. It seemed that she was outside and someone put a replica model of the house and the hill it sat on near her while she was sleeping. She was going to dismiss it as such when she examined the detail of the model and some movement caught her eye. She squinted to find two familiar people waving their arms from one of the windows.

"Adam? Barbara?" Lydia blinked. Sure enough, a tiny Adam and Barbara were waving at her, looking quite shocked to see the now giant teenager. Lydia waved back only for her to let out a scream as something scooped her up in the air by her arms and hugged her tight.

"Lyds, yer just the right size to take over this town!" A familiar gravely voice boomed with a cheer. Lydia struggled against the giant demon's grip, feeling like her bones would pop if he got any tighter. 

"I still need to breathe!" She wheezed out. With a sheepish "Oops!", Beetlejuice let go of her and placed her down next to him.

"Would you look at us? Two scary demons ruling Connecticut together and having our kind of fun. First order of business, we make stripes, black, and nail polish the top fashion statement. We're going places, kid!" Beetlejuice pulled Lydia close to him and started walking off, throwing his ideas out there. Lydia shook her head with a smile and was about to listen when she glanced up and caught something at the corner of her eye coming from his striped shirt. In a shirt pocket that seemed filled with who knows what, Lydia swore she saw tiny arms trying to climb out and a woman's head popping out. 

"I can breathe! Freedom!" A tiny feminine voice squeaked. The teen's eyes widened.

"Um... Beej? What is that?" Lydia asked, pointing to his pocket.

"What is what?" The demon stopped, causing the obvious human in his pocket to scream and fall back down. He looked down and nodded. "Oh right, that! While you were napping, I decided ta get myself a random breather to play with. Don't worry, she's a big fan and my pocket's not that bad."

Lydia's face fell. "Beetlejuice, no. If we're gonna haunt anything together, we're not kidnapping people!"

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes and groaned. "Ugh! First, it's no killing. Now, it's no kidnapping! What's next? No floating? And it's not even a kid!"

"Oh, thank-"

"It's the writer."

"Dude!" Lydia threw her hands in the air, resisting the urge to strangle the giant demon. "You can't just go into a writer's house and steal them away!"

"Why not? There's no rule saying that I can't and she doesn't seem to mind. Right, babe?" 

In response to the question, a tiny tan hand poked out from the pocket and formed a shaky thumbs up. 

"See? She has a way with words!" The ghost chuckled, using one of his fingers to gently push the hand back into his pocket. When he saw Lydia give him a disapproving frown along with her arms crossed, he sighed. 

"Alright, alright! I'll take her back to her house. But first, I'm takin' you ta bed. Ya gotta have a lot of energy if yer gonna be scary at your own haunted house tomorrow!" 

"Wait, what?" Before Lydia could question or protest, she was scooped up by the waist and hung to the demon's side as he carried her off somewhere. Then it became blurry for her. She couldn't tell how much time had passed or where she was. As she let out a yawn, she started to see things. Memories of her when she was seven or nine. Nights when her father would stay overnight on a business meeting and she and her mother would pretend to be giant monsters parading in their home while eating and doing whatever they wanted. At the end of their play, Emily would pick her up, carry her upstairs to bed, and tell her a story as she tucked her in.  

Lydia then remembered. She was at a haunted house in Connecticut with two ghosts in the attic and a demon who was taking her upstairs to bed. She groaned sleepily. No wonder grown-ups warned children about eating late at night. As she hung to the demon's side, she couldn't help but reminisce about the good times that she would never have again for a long time. 

"Once upon a time... there was a girl who wanted to be... a werewolf...." She mumbled to herself with a soft yawn as the demon trudged through the hallway. "Her daddy wanted his daughter... to be a perfect little girl... but her dead mom wanted her happy... so the girl ran away to the woods... so she could become a werewolf. She... she... she-"

"She came across a demon deep in the forest." Beetlejuice continued with a sigh. "Very powerful, looks great in stripes, and had lots of cool powers and dance moves, but he was lonely because nobody could see him and nobody else was like him. When he saw that she could see him, he got really happy. So he offered her a deal. 'If ya summon me and gimme all the bugs I can eat, I can make ya a werewolf and we could be friends'.

The demon reached the bedroom and went inside, noticing that it was bare of anything interesting save for the dark curtains and spider sheets on the bed. He placed her on top of the bed as he continued, "So she tried to get all the bugs she could get. Mostly earthworms, ants, and some ladybugs ta add a little luck. Sure, she got mud and leaves all over her, but she did it. She said his name three times and poof! He was summoned just like that. He made her a werewolf without the bite thing and they hung out together in the woods, scarin' all the breathers they wanted."

Lydia grumbled in a daze, maneuvering herself so a blanket was covering her up. She smiled and snuggled against the bed, finally asleep. The demon was about to leave when he saw something fall from under her pillow and landed onto the floor with a silent flutter. Beetlejuice bent down and picked it up, examining it. It was a photograph of Lydia and her dad that he immediately recognized, but it was the woman that threw him off. He never saw her in the house or of the recently deceased around the area. 

Then it hit him.

He said nothing, some of his hair strands turning purple as he pinched the corner of the photo and tore off Charles's head. He grabbed hold of the other corner, but let go after a long second. He opened the bedside drawer, placed the photo in, then closed it shut. Beetlejuice glanced over, watching Lydia turning to her side, out like a light. Before he disappeared, there was a hint of a smile as he patted the side of the bed.

"Sweet nightmares, kid."

[shyeehaw]

S/O dies giving birth HCs

Hello fellow cowboy lovers, I’m deeply sorry (or not, I’m into angsty stuff) about the amount of sadness there’s about to be written below. Enjoy (if you like that and all)! <3

Request: An angst HC with Arthur, Charles and Sean where their s o dies giving birth and the guys are left to raise them alone.

Arthur:

Isaac. That’s the first thing that came to Arthur’s mind when you told him you were pregnant.

She made sure to tell him the news on her favorite place: the beach.

What happened had a deep impact in his personality, and now life gave him another chance. To know better, to do better.

In the Saint Denis doctor, he learned that it still had time until the baby was born.

So he would to town with the biggest smile on his face, buying things to the baby. 

Unaware of what waited for him when he got to camp.

Arriving at camp he saw Ms. Grimshaw pale as ghost. His mind trying to make sense of things.

The baby wasn’t expected until another two more months. That’s... that’s why he was out.

He didn’t knew, he couldn’t have predicted it.

“Mr. Morgan, I’m truly deeply sorry, me and Mr. Pearson did...”, Arthur could no longer hear, the buzzing in his ears silencing those awful words.

His dreams once again turned into a nightmare.

Hearing the shaky baby’s breath nearly broke his heart.

He would look at that small, innocent boy and wonder how he would ever raise him without his partner.

Confusion and guilt would take over his mind. Thoughts so dark that he would never dare to write in his diary. Arthur did that to her, he wasn’t there.

He grew more apart from others, focusing all his time on the recovery of his baby.

The boy had some many aunts and uncles, the whole gang loved and protected him with all their hearts.

In the early years, he had no interest in hiding how miserable he was feeling.

Even though he was clumsy, Arthur managed to turn his fragile baby into a strong boy.

He made sure to tell his son how good of a woman his mother was. Always making him say her name.

The boy was very sensible, picking up when Arthur was feeling down and trying to cheer him up by doing all kinds of silly things.

His diary was his most treasured possession. When his son got a bit older, Arthur would read some parts about her.

It was really emotional, but a way to keep her memory alive.

Time is a cruel, but blissful thing. 

Blissful because with the years, Arthur could notice, without hurting so much, the resemblance between the boy and his mother.

And cruel, because he started forgetting the little details. The portrait he draw being the only thing left to compare the her with his son.

Sitting by the seashore, he would reminisce about how much she loved that place. 

“This is stupid, Y/N, but if I could just talk to you... tell you about our boy.”

He would be interrupted by the big curious eyes of that tiny little boy. “Are you talking to mother?”

Arthur would just nod, and take him by the hand, leaving some flowers on the grave just above the dunes. He knows she would love that view.

Charles

When she began go into labour, Charles was there holding her hand.

And when life began to leave her eyes, he held her hand too.

Charles had heard about that before, but he never thought he would need to experience it first hand.

And the blood...her warm blood, the blood that nurtured their baby, now was everywhere.

He just kept concentrating on the baby’s cry, for her, he would just listen to that sound and get his strength from there.

“It’s a baby girl!”, said Ms. Grimshaw, holding his daughter.

But Charles could not do the same, he had no strength left to take her.

He remembers falling into the ground, the first time anyone saw him displaying such raw emotions. He would sob for minutes, without stopping.

Searching for any meaning in that, he would think of how life is always balanced, how the spirit and body were different things.

But that knowledge didn’t brought him any consolation at that point.

It took him a day or two, to go search for his baby. Abigail had been taking care of her. Charles was ashamed of being weak and not being able to see her before.

He never felt this scared in his life. His fingers were too big and rough against the baby‘s soft skin.

Charles learned pretty quickly how to take care of the girl, bringing her along when he went fishing or hunting since she was a baby.

He would strap her around his chest and go on with his chores.

The baby girl was very peaceful, much like her father. Looking at her would silence all the noises in Charle’s head.

In her first birthday, everyone threw a big party, getting the girl gifts and playing with her.

It was supposed to be a happy moment, but Charles could not forget that it also meant he had lost his love for a year now.

The thought that this would always be the case robbed him the joy to celebrate that day.

But he loved his daughter deeply, her life gave his more meaning.

Charles was a pretty patient father, teaching his girl to talk and walk, and as soon as she could, to use a bow.

A wooden carved horse was her favorite toy, her father gave it to her.

His kid would always surprise him with how smart she was beyond her years. Not only being able to read, but knowing things not even adults understood.

“I’m not sad Cain died, papa, he is not in pain anymore. Mom is with him now, right?”

Charles would take her every now and then to visit her mother’s grave, by her request.

He felt like he had a lot to learn with his kid, she didn’t felt sad, just glad to be a living part of her mother.

She grew to be such a sweet and caring girl. Who loved braiding her father’s hair.

Charles would look at her and see his own appearance mixed with the one he would forever love. It was painful, but a beautiful reminder of how life goes on.

Someday he would meet her again, but for now, his girl needed him. And he would always protect her.

Sean

When his s/o told him she was expecting a baby, Sean was helpless.

There’s no denying that at first he was terrified! Too young and too dumb, in his own words, to take care of another human being.

She got apprehensive that Sean didn’t wanted the kid, but that’s not at all what he meant.

Passed the initial shock, he got really excited at the thought of playing and being the fun dad.

A little person to teach everything he knew , all the pranks, joke, songs!

He started dreaming about the life the three of them would have. It wasn’t so scary anymore.

With his love’s scream piercing through his ears, Sean fetched Ms. Grimshaw in a blink of an eye. His heart jumping on the chest.

He never seen someone giving birth before, so he couldn’t know all that screaming wasn’t normal.

It wasn’t a regular “push” scream, something was terribly wrong.

“My chest!” she would say with her clenched fists turning white “Oh god! Please, it hurts so much.”

That’s when he noticed something wasn’t right. Kneeling beside her, he would wipe the sweat of her face.

“Love, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry Sean, you didn’t wanted this and now I’m going to leave you with” she would scream in agony “with our baby.”

“Yer not leaving me, don’t say that.”, he said with tears falling into her face. He knew it was true.

Ms. Grimshaw handed him the baby, already wrapped in a blanket.

“Look at her! Stay with us, please”

“There’s another one coming!”, Pearson shouted.

The body of the woman he loved turned pale, with a last gasp, she squeezed Sean’s hand.

It would be his last laughter in a long time. Sean was hysteric, guffawing without any emotion.

From day to night, he transformed in a whole different person. He would be restless, taking care of both babies.

He had no clue what he was doing, so everyone would help out as much as they could.

Abigail would teach him about diapers and common diseases, Arthur would watch out for the kids while Sean ate or when he fell asleep, exhausted.

Mary-Beth would entertain them with beautiful fantastic tales, they loved that auntie.

The twins were the gang’s kids. Although, Sean did the best he could, turning a bit more responsible over time.

He would focus all his, once endless, energy on his children. That way he would be too tired to think about their mother.

When they got a little bigger,Jack would play with them for hours, while Sean was out on jobs.

One time, when arriving to camp, his kids sat him down and started reading to him. It made Sean so damn proud.

“Your pa can’t read but you two can? Where did I go wrong!?” He would say, playfully.

His little girl was the most troublemaker of them. She would always be up to something mischievous.

When she pranked Micah, Sean like pretending nothing happened.

But his  boy was more like his mother, kind and pensive.

“Pa, I feel bad that mom died because of me and sister.” he would confess.

“Yer mom loved ya, and your sister! If she could choose, she would always pick you two over her. That’s how us parents are!”

But hearing his son saying that, got his facade down. Sean had been pretending for too long that he was healed from what happened.

But how could he ever move on?

By learning how to play the guitar with Javier, his son got him a bit jealous.

“Yer spoiling my kid, Javier. He just wants to spend time with you now! I’m his pa!”

He found very odd how only his daughter picked his accent up, the boy talked like Arthur and made Sean a little mad. 

Even though they were everyone’s kids, the twins were super attached to their father.

Wherever Sean went, two red-headed shadows would follow.

[ladyboltontoyou]

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Stars on Paper

Ask: Henlo- I was wondering if you could do a fic about Arthur with a reader who draws a lot? Like, maybe the gang finds her homeless or whatever and they take her in (since Dutch basically adopts anyone he sees-) and Arthur notices she's always drawing around camp and he approaches her and they end up hanging out and kinda flirting- then in the morning one day the reader finds a sketch of her and small note by her bed from Arthur- a lot of fluff goin on. Idk sorry for being so specific XD

Warning: Cursing, lots of fluff.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/n: This took me way too long, writers block hit hard and I couldn’t find the words I was imagining. 

Drawing was your passion. Anytime you had a few spare minutes you had your journal in your hand and you were sketching something. Most of the time it was animals, but you found some of the members in your new gang very easy to draw. You liked drawing Hosea, it gave you more experience with details such as wrinkles, and not to mention all the emotion he held in his eyes.

When the girls found out you were talented at art they lost their minds, begging you to draw them as well. All except Sadie, but only because she never hung around them enough to know about your secret talent.

Not many other people noticed besides Charles. He liked your animal sketches the most, saying your work was so detailed and accurate he could almost feel the fur on the cougar. That was one of the best compliments you’d ever received.

The only odd thing about the whole situation was how long it took Arthur to notice. He probably would have gone even longer without knowing if it wasn’t for Mary-Beth gushing to Tilly about your newest drawing, which was one of her.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” He overheard her saying in the dreamiest voice. “She made me so beautiful…”

“She certainly knows how to use a pencil, that’s for sure.” Tilly’s voice was full of awe as she took the paper from her hands to look at it better. “Arthur, come take a look at this.”

“Now what do we have here?” He was thankful she called him over because he’d been curious himself as to what the chatter was about.

“(Y/N) drew me again, but this time…” She laughed breathlessly. “Why, it’s better than a real picture!”

“(Y/N)?” He furrowed his brows as he looked over the paper. “She did this?”

Both of them laughed at his confusion. “You’re kidding, right? That’s all she does, Arthur.” Mary-Beth said after she exchanged laughter with Tilly.

He nodded thoughtfully and handed the paper back to her. “Huh. Alright then.”

As he walked back to his tent he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the edge of the woods, drinking coffee while watching some birds fly around in the trees. You had your sketchbook in your lap opened to a blank page, waiting for another piece of art to fill it with content.

It wasn’t often Arthur had something interesting to talk about with the gang members so no one could blame him when he jumped at the opportunity to talk about one of his favorite things to do.

“Evenin’, (Y/N).”

You looked up and nervously shut your book. “Hi Arthur.” He was one of the people in camp you hadn’t shown your art to, so it was normal for you to be a bit shy.

“You don’t need to do that. The girls were just swoonin’ over your art and it’s nothin’ to hide. Where’d you learn to draw like that?” He asked as he sat on the grass next to you, leaning on his elbow and trying to be as relaxed as possible in hopes of you doing the same.

His comment took you by surprise and you laughed awkwardly, looking away from him. “Practice.”

Arthur nodded and took a piece of straw that grew beside him, sticking the end in his mouth. “Took me a while to get from shit to barely decent.”

That caught your interest and you looked back to him. “You draw too?”

He nodded again and smiled. “Sometimes. Not near anywhere as good as you, but I try.”

You turned so you were facing him. “What do you draw?”

“Well, lots of things.” He hummed as he chewed on the straw. “Animals, people, landscapes. I like to get down things I see. Helps me remember the places I’ve been, things I’ve seen, people I’ve met.”

“Could I see some?”

“If I can see some of yours.”

“Okay.”

He pulled his journal from his satchel and flipped it open to one of his better sketches. “This is just a little quick thing…” He trailed off and handed it to you.

It was a drawing of a pack of wolves playing around, two wrestling on the ground and three others chasing each other. It was beautiful seeing such deadly animals doing something so human. “You’re so good, Arthur. I had no idea.”

“I can say the same. Can’t believe I didn’t notice this about you.”

You looked to him to see he had your sketchbook in his hands and he was fumbling through the pages. When did he get that?

The urge to yank it away from him was strong but when you saw the look in his eyes you stopped yourself. It was like he was viewing something incredible and life-changing, even though it was only some pencil strokes on paper.

“You shouldn’t be here, you need to be in a big city, doing something important.” He said as he flipped through the pages, suddenly stopping.

Oh, god. You forgot you did a portrait of him.

It was one morning when you were drinking your coffee, you had seen him watching the sunrise with a bit of sleep still on his face. He looked so beautiful watching the event that you had to put it down on paper. The stubble that had grown in, the lines of sleep under his eyes, the plumped lips from where he chewed them in his sleep.

“You see me like this?” He asked and looked up at you with a look that made your heart swoon.

You nodded and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ve been complimented before… but this.” He tapped on the page before handing it back to you. “It blows everything else out of the water.”

You didn’t notice it but you were blushing. “I draw what I see.”

There was a moment of quiet before he took his journal back. “I’m going to head off. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Caught off guard by the sudden departure you could only nod before he left to his tent.

***

You woke up like normal, to the smell of coffee and breakfast being made along with the quiet talk of everyone else waking up. When you turned over in your makeshift bed you were shocked to find a rolled up piece of paper with a small wildflower tied in it.

That woke you up.

When you unrolled the paper you felt your heart stop.

‘(Y/N),

Sometimes I draw what I see, sometimes I draw what I dream of. Hope you like this. When you wake up come find me, I’ll be in my tent. I’d love to talk more.’

You flipped the paper over to find a drawing of you standing in a field of wildflowers with the galaxy in the sky above you. How he could draw that with only memories of your face, you had no idea. You looked so beautiful. The flowers so real. The stars so perfect. Did he really think you were that pretty?

“Must have been what he felt.” You muttered to yourself and felt your heart threaten to bust out of your chest when you remembered he invited you into his tent. When was the last time you’d felt like that over someone else? Years.

You rolled the paper back up and placed the flower under your pillow, pulling on your dress before stepping out of your tent to go see Arthur.

[emotionsofthesoul]

Chapter 4 _ Porque Placerville?

The week went by in flash. The girls stayed in touch all week and even called each other before bed two nights in a row. It was now Saturday and they couldn’t be any happier to wake up and see each other.

Valentina went to pick up Juliana who gave the driver directions to where they would be eating. Before they went to pay, Juliana got them a pair of popsicles the restaurant owners make and handed one to Valentina. They headed back to the car and Valentina told her driver to drop them off on 21st and J St.

As they walked around, Valentina took some pictures when she saw something interesting but continued with her popsicle.

“Oye Juliana, this is the best paleta, I’ve ever tried. Thank you. Y los tacos? Ni se diga. Great choice.” Valentina told Juliana honestly.

“Thanks. I love that place. It’s my favorite. I mean I don’t really know any other places but I wouldn’t change that for the world; they remind me of home. Anyway, I have a question. Why Placerville of all places? Everything is here in Sacramento, your family’s company is here, your school is here? Why do you live in the middle of nowhere?” Juliana asked genuinely interested.

“Well, that’s a great question and has an even better story. When my mom was 22 she came to California on Vacation and she was driving towards Lake Tahoe to meet some friends and thought she was lost. She stopped to ask for directions and she just so happened to ask my dad who was also on vacation and had no idea. They chatted for a bit and turns out they were both from Mexico City. They exchanged numbers and she went on her way. When she returned to Mexico City they reconnected and eventually fell in love and decided to get married. They always said Placerville would be the perfect place to raise a family so when the time came, they made the move. We’ve been there ever since. My dad chose Sacramento for business because it’s the nearest city and it’s where the state capitol resides.” Valentina said thinking fondly of the story her mother used to always tell her.

Juliana smiled tenderly at Valentina, “Val that’s so sweet. Tell me a little about your mom, was she as amazing as you are?”

“She was incredible Juls. I was very young when she passed but she was always so kind to everyone around her. She taught me how to use my first camera. I got my love for photography from her. One of these days you should come over so I can show you her images, we have them all around the house. Every now and then when I miss her I just sit in my room and stare at her favorite picture. When she passed it became my only outlet. She taught me so much and I just wish I could have had more time with her but I guess everything happens for a reason. She’s the one that taught me to take care of everyone around me including our beloved employees. For instance Chivis, she’s been like an aunt to me. I love her so much, she was there when my mom died and helped the family grieve. She became our rock and I don’t know where any of us would be without her. & Alirio, that man is a saint. He’s been my driver since before I can remember and he’s always so protective of me. My parents knew him back in Mexico and according to Alirio, when I was born my mom called him and offered him the job saying they were going to need someone to protect their princess and they wanted that someone to be him. He’s protected me as his own ever since.” Valentina said finding a bench as they reached K and 13th.

As they reached the bench that said HEAR THE ART. It gave Valentina portrait idea. She told Juliana to sit there and pose. She snapped an image using the rule of thirds and having Juliana sit in front of the word HEAR and have THE ART to her left. Valentina wanted to capture the real art that was Juliana Valdes.

“Val, thank you for sharing that with me. Your mom sounds like she was great woman and mother. I’m sure she’s taking care of you every step of the way. I’m glad you had a good support system.” Juliana said genuinely now that they were sitting on the bench facing each other sitting crisscross apple sauce.

“My dad eventually shipped me off to Canada for a year to try and distract me. & I guess it worked, I had my fun. I met a boy named Charles who I actually lost my virginity to, we tried everything together. I’ll tell you sometime Juls, I’ve had 3 boyfriends and honestly sex has never been what everyone says it’s supposed to be like. There weren’t any fireworks. Not even with the last guy.” Valentina said trying to change the sad subject.

“Neta, wait so you’ve never actually fallen in love?” Juliana asked surprised because the girl in front of her has the biggest heart and wears it on her sleeve.

“Really. I don’t know, I don’t really believe in it, you know. I mean I guess it happens for some like my parents and now my dad and Lucia but I don’t know. I’ve always seen love as a reason, an excuse really, to sell things on the 14th of September. I mean February. See I don’t even know the date. If I’m honest there’s probably something wrong with me. But what about you, how have your experience been?” Valentina said in a joking matter.

“Val there’s nothing wrong with you. I’m sure one day you’ll find someone you can be 100% comfortable with and feel everything everyone says is possible. As for me, there’s not really much to tell. I’ve never dated anyone let alone had sex.  I’m not in a rush though.” Juliana said.

“Wey estas hablando en serio? No!” Valentina said laughing.

“Ya Val don’t make fun of me!” Juliana said holding onto Valentina’s hands.

“No babe I’m not laughing at you! You have a world of possibilities to explore! This is incredible! It’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Valentina said completely excited for her friend.

“Stop Val, please.” Juliana said shifting her gaze to her lap.

“Don’t worry, you’re not missing anything.” Valentina said with a smile and a giggle.

They continued on their walk down 13th and reached the capital grounds. Valentina showed Juliana around, from the Rose Garden on 15th to the state capitol and all the memorials in between. They took some pictures around there and returned back to K St. Valentina took Juliana by the hand as they walked under the interwoven trees by the IMAX and showed her Maya’s Kitchen telling her it’s her favorite restaurant and they must come back on a girls day just to eat there. They walked down K until they reached 7th and Valentina took Juliana around the Golden 1 Center showing her all the little details what were put into that block only the eye of a photographer could catch. She showed her the fancy hotel that was made just for the arena. Then they walked across the bridged over traffic and cut through the little shopping area to reach the tunnel towards Old Sacramento. Valentina gave Juliana a very interesting tour full of rich history and funny facts of that little town. She took her to her favorite place in all of Old Sac, Evangeline’s Costume Mansion. She  showed Juliana the details on all three floors and they ended up buying halloween costumes. Well, more like Valentina insisted on paying for their costumes and persuading Juliana to be Lena Luthor while she dressed up as Supergirl. By the time they were out of Evangeline’s they were starving so they went over to Steamers and had a pair of burgers and raspberry lemonade. Afterwards they continues their tour and Valentina snapped images of Tower Bridge right as the sun was setting. They decided to buy tickets to the Ghost Underground Tour and Juliana scared Valentina multiple times during said tour.

As the night came to a close Valentina called her driver to pick them up outside of Candy Heaven. On their ride home Juliana agreed to visit Valentina’s home that following Monday.

[belphegor1982]

Cue plot! And possibly a twist.

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: The O'Connells are required by the English Government to bring the Diamond taken from Ahm Shere from Cairo to London. Things get interesting when Jonathan bumps by chance into an old friend of his from Oxford, Tom Ferguson…

Chapter 6: Camels, Cars, and Cabals (on AO3 here)

There were many ways to begin an interview with a British Consulate official. One of them could be “Good afternoon to you, sir, what it is that you want from me?” Another one – depending upon your degree of familiarity with the person you addressed, of course – would be “What ho, old thing, heard you wanted a word!” But “Sorry I’m late, I was being savaged by a wild camel” was definitely not the smartest option.

Yet it was one that Jonathan was starting to consider seriously as the hairy – could he call it a snout, or a muzzle? – thing kept sending its foul breath into his face. Another minute and viscous drool was going to drip down on him. He resisted the urge to yelp for someone to get him the hell out of here. The beast would surely not react nicely to sudden noise and movement.

Urgh.

Nasty, smelly bugger.

“I am so very sorry, sir,” he heard the girl say, and from the corner of his eye he saw her pulling on the camel’s bit with all her might. “He’s normally very calm – my father trained him well, I think he’s only trying to play…”

“That’s all right,” Jonathan managed to say, trying to remain calm and sound offhand, however hard it was when you were being pinned down by a smelly camel’s snouty muzzle thing. “Stuff like this has happened before. I’m not quite fond of these beasts, and it appears it’s mutual.”

Trying to play… Right. He had just been walking down the street to the British Consulate, and as this blasted camel passed him by, it had escaped its owner’s grasp and nuzzled into his chest till he fell over. Not content with this victory, it had showed big chunks of yellow teeth each time Jonathan attempted to get up. Jonathan had found himself pinned to the ground, unable to move, as the Egyptian girl the camel belonged to pulled and pulled at the animal’s reins, all the while apologising profusely.

Finally, a sympathetic passer-by came to lend the girl a hand with the stubborn beast, and Jonathan was soon on his feet, dusting himself off energetically. Up close, the girl looked near tears.

“Really, sir, I’m so sorry – can I help you with anything? Just…”

“Don’t worry, miss, everything’s fine. I just hope that your camel doesn’t throw itself at everyone else in the street, that’s all.” The girl looked upset enough, and he didn’t have the heart to get angry. The blush on her cheeks took off the last remnants of his irritation. Besides, it had been directed at the camel, which now stood a few feet away, peacefully munching on something the Good Samaritan had stuffed into its mouth as a distraction.

The girl slowly pushed her tangled hair out of her face and he had the pleasure of seeing a tiny smile. It was timid, still a bit fearful, but a smile all the same. “Thank you, bāša1. Djem does that sometimes; it is his way to tell people he likes them. I try to stop him, because those he annoys get quite angry at us.”

“Well, although I’m flattered, I would certainly like – Djem – best if he stayed away from me,” answered Jonathan with a smile, finishing checking his clothes for traces of dust that would not do in front of Tommy’s boss. Then he raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘angry at us’?”

“I am responsible for my camel’s behaviour,” stated the girl. “So if Djem misbehaves, I am the one to blame.” She hesitated a bit before adding, “Last time, he went after a European woman. She hit him and slapped me.”

Jonathan shook his head in disgust. People who thought nothing of hitting a kid in the street were sadly too common, especially when they were white and the child was not. That blasted woman had absolutely no right to do that, but what could the girl do when everything conspired to push her and her camel to the bottom of the societal ladder?

“What’s your name?” he asked in almost decent Arabic. He’d been able to hold entire conversations with his mother as a boy, but his vocabulary and pronunciation had suffered from lack of practice since her death.

The girl’s dark eyebrows shot up behind her curtain of hair.

“Satiah, sir.”

“Satiah, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. She should never have done that.”

She blinked, and actually smiled. Whether that was in acknowledgement or because she found his attempt at Arabic funny, Jonathan couldn’t tell. Both suited him just fine, so he answered with a smile of his own.

“Anyway,” he added in English, noticing the time – good thing he had left home early! “I’m sorry to cut off, but I have an appointment I can’t afford to miss. Have a good day, and take good care of your Djem. He seems a good fellow, for all that he likes to kiss people without permission.” That said with a smile, to avoid misunderstandings.

“A good day to you as well, bāša,” said young Satiah in her lilting, fluty voice. “May Sopdet smile upon you!”

As Jonathan walked away, quickening his pace to make up for lost time, the Egyptian girl’s last words seemed to hang in the air for a few seconds. The encounter puzzled him. ‘Satiah’ was not an Egyptian name – or rather, it was, just three millennia out of date. And she had called upon the goddess Sopdet for her blessings. It had been a long time since he had heard someone call the star Sirius by its Ancient Egyptian name, and it was even more startling coming from an unassuming slip of a girl who didn’t look more than fifteen.

Undoubtedly, Egypt had been and would always remain a very strange place, Jonathan mused as he came near the British Consulate, the tune of a fast Django Reinhardt song making its way round his brain.

He had yet to remember its title when he knocked on Tommy’s office door.

“C’min!”

“Don’t you ever ask who’s behind that door before inviting people in?” Jonathan grinned as he crossed the threshold. “You could get some unpleasant surprises.”

“Who would bother to knock at that door if they didn’t have good intentions?” retorted Tommy, rising from behind his desk to shake his hand. The room looked tidier than it had done the other day. There were still a large number of boxes on the ground, but a spot had been cleared on the desk, the files piled up in heaps along the edges, making it look like a re-enactment of the Red Sea parting before Moses. This time he did not have a lot of time to gaze around as Tommy picked up his jacket and headed for the door.

“Hamilton’s office’s just round that corner, but he’s such a stickler for rules and manners that he doesn’t like it when people come to his office unannounced. Blimey, you’re actually on time!” the Liverpudlian remarked suddenly, sounding surprised, as his eyes caught the clock.

“You didn’t think I’d make it, did you?” Jonathan smirked. “O thee of little faith.”

Tommy only snorted at that as he stopped to knock on an imposing door. They waited a little, then a low-pitched voice answered from inside, “Come in.”

Tommy opened the door, and Jonathan had a view of a very neat, tidy room, with lots of files and books lying on shelves, which seemed to be classified a lot more methodically than in Tommy’s office. The light was dim, filtering from under the shutters pulled over the windows to shelter the room from the heat outside. It was rather successful, and the coolness in the office was very welcome.

However, as his gaze lowered from the windows to the desk, and the man behind it, Jonathan couldn’t help a peculiar sort of feeling, as if he had suddenly walked into something devoid of any warmth at all. And what was more peculiar, this feeling seemed to emanate from the occupant of the office. Everything appeared to be grey about this fellow: his hair, his skin – odd, considering that the bright Egyptian sun spared no one – and his eyes. Especially his eyes. Even the curator of the Museum of Antiquities had flashes of warmth in his eyes, at least when he looked at Evy, or one of his colleagues.

Otherwise, Charles Hamilton looked in every respect like the portrait Tommy had made of him – square jaw, square shoulders, back straight as if he’d had an umbrella stuck up his backside. Just a little boring. The only thing that stood out about him was the impression of a very clean man. His light grey suit was deceptively perfect, with absolutely no creases despite the heat. He stared very calmly at the newcomer from behind half-moon spectacles, his fingers crossed in front of him.

“Jonathan Carnahan, sir,” said Tommy from behind Jonathan, and Hamilton nodded.

“Thank you, Ferguson.”

A last encouraging glance, and Tommy closed the door, leaving his friend alone with the vampire.

“You are exactly on time, Mr Carnahan. Please, do take a seat.”

Jonathan did take a seat, unconsciously straightening his back as he would when, as a child, he’d have to sit somewhere and endure some lecture or other unpleasant stuff.

Unless the person who gave the lecture was Evy, of course. Then he’d make a point of slouching in the chair and looking foppish, offhand, and undeterred.

For the sake of his dignity, he tried to look a little more relaxed. But the steel in the bloke’s eyes and voice made it impossible. Unsettle the opponent while keeping on a mask. The perfect poker attitude.

“Listen to me well, Mr Carnahan,” Hamilton said, his armchair moaning slightly as he leant to put his elbows on the desk. “The reason you are here is very simple, and I’m sure you will understand why I required your presence.”

That was it – to think of him as an opponent at a poker game. Jonathan tried to imagine him behind a deck of cards, and his unease vanished as soon as the picture was precise enough. He was in his element.

“As you probably know, my name is Charles Hamilton, and I am one of the chief agents in the British Antique Research Department in Cairo. Although this city holds many priceless archaeological items, our main focus for two years has been one object in particular, which that you know very well. I think you can guess which treasure I am talking about.”

“The diamond taken from Ahm Shere.”

“Exactly.” He had a slight Essex accent, but that failed to add any life to his voice. Every word fell weirdly flat. “I believe you were incidental in this… taking. According to records, you were the one who sold it to the Museum.”

“Indeed.” That particular point seemed to be widely known, but good Lord, what didn’t they keep a record of?

“Would you be so kind as to tell me of the circumstances of this acquisition?”

Something tightened slightly in Jonathan’s stomach. What was exactly the extent of that Department’s knowledge about the events of Ahm Shere? There were so many secrets involved… What did they know about the Book of the Dead? The role of the Medjai, and the former curator of the British Museum? Did they know that Alex had been the one who’d led everyone there? Did they know that Rick had killed the Scorpion King?

Did this fellow, who sat calmly behind his desk, know that his baby sister had actually died, back there?

Years of poker playing and the – oh, occasional – lying served Jonathan well and he didn’t let any muscle of his face twitch. Instead, he gave a smile of his own, bordering on a smirk.

“By all means I will, although my memory’s not quite what it used to be. I think you should ask Dr Hakim for the details of the purchase –”

“No, no, Mr Carnahan, I appear to have expressed myself badly,” said Hamilton, his grey eyes still fixed on Jonathan’s face. “By ‘acquisition’, I meant how the diamond came to fall into your hands.”

“My mistake, sir.” Should he continue to stall, or come clean straight away? “Don’t you already know the story?”

A small smile stretched the thin lips. “What I am interested in is a short version of your story. The reports I have read shed definite light on these shady events, but hearing a person who was actually there can change one’s perception of such events.”

Hmm. Right. Let’s go for the abridged version, then.

Jonathan’s description of the events of Ahm Shere was definitely shorter; without knowing why, he did not feel like telling this man everything he had told Tommy – maybe it was a matter of trust. He told Hamilton of the Bracelet, the mad race across the desert to get Alex back, the reunion at Ahm Shere, about Rick’s slaying of the Scorpion King and how he had managed to grab the diamond before the pyramid sank into the sand. Of the Book of the Dead, the Medjai, Imhotep and his wench, and their murder of Evy, he said nothing. First, he didn’t feel like talking about something so fiercely private, let alone to this living tin man. Also, the Medjai were a wild card, one that he didn’t have any intention of laying down just yet. Finally, some things were just too important to just share with a total stranger.

After he had finished, Hamilton, who had been listening silently throughout the story, leaned back in his armchair, his hand resting thoughtfully against his mouth. “I see. That is indeed quite a story, Mr Carnahan. The taste for hazardous archaeological expeditions continues to run in the family, or so it would appear.”

The ambiguous phrasing surprised Jonathan, who narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth; but before he could say anything, Hamilton leant forward again to pick up a fountain pen and a piece of paper, and said, “Well, you probably imagine that I did not summon you to hear something I already know. My principal interest is, of course, your take on what happened last Wednesday – events of which you and my subordinate Thomas Ferguson were the unfortunate casualties.”

Still puzzled about the Department official’s previous remark, Jonathan told him about what had happened three days ago – this account was just as short as the one he’d given Alex, maybe even shorter. Hamilton occasionally scribbled something down on his paper as his guest talked.

“…And when I woke up, the diamond was stolen, and the assistant was no longer there. Dr Hakim seems to think that he was in fact a mole, and so far the events – or lack thereof – have proven him right.”

“He has not reappeared, has he?”

Jonathan shook his head. “No, and if I may venture an opinion… I don’t think he will.” Evy had also said as much, adding that Jamal Hassan’s job was done, and that it would probably be dangerous for him if he showed up again.

Hamilton nodded gravely and put his pen on the desk, before crossing his fingers in front of him again. “Well, thank you. This meeting has been very enlightening, and the information you gave me will be filed up and kept preciously.” He rose to make his guest know that the interview was over, and Jonathan stood up as well, despite the numerous questions that boggled his mind. “I’m afraid I’ll have to make this short, I have some appointments that cannot be delayed – I am a busy man. It has been a pleasure, Mr Carnahan. I look forward to our next encounter.”

“Pleasure meeting you as well, sir,” answered Jonathan, shaking the offered hand. Then Hamilton’s last words caught up with him and he paused, puzzled. “Not to be rude or anything, but… what makes you think there will be a next encounter?”

The grey-haired man gave a small smile. “As I take it, you are friends with Thomas Ferguson, aren’t you? I might have the luck of seeing you in the corridors some time.”

“Of course.” Jonathan nodded, and turned to walk to the door. Before going out, he threw a last glance at Hamilton, who was again sitting behind his desk, his pen back in his hand. The strange man caught his gaze and gave him that peculiar smile of his that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

It was not without a hint of relief that Jonathan closed the door behind him. Curiously enough, the temperature seemed to rise up again, as if he’d just walked out of a cold room.

“So…” said a laughing but quiet voice, and the cheerful tone in it was very welcome. “Nosferatu didn’ eat you alive, did he?”

Tommy was standing in the corridor, casually leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and a goofy grin on his face. He motioned Jonathan away from the door, and when they were far enough, the Southerner ran a hand through his hair, and grinned back at his friend.

“Didn’t try to, anyway. But don’t worry – I’ve teeth, too.”

“You stayed a long time in there,” said Tommy, almost seriously. “What’d he ask you?”

“Oh, stuff about Ahm Shere and my ‘account’ of what happened the day before yesterday, obviously. This bloke is creepier than some mummies I encountered.” Jonathan paused, then, ignoring the little voice in his head that called him a complete fool, asked a little uncertainly, “That fellow, he’s been working in here for a long time?”

“Yeah, I know, he doesn’t look like he sees the light of day that much,” Tommy laughed, then stopped as Jonathan shook his head.

“I mean – how long’s he been working here for – in the Department?”

“I dunno…” His friend looked thoughtful as he tapped his forefinger against his chin. “Ages. He was already working here when I arrived… Why d’you ask me that?”

“Because…” Jonathan hesitated a moment before finally answering, “He mentioned my family, and I thought he might’ve known my parents, you know?” Tommy gave him a peculiar look, something between surprise and sympathy. Jonathan waved it off, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “Bah, forget it. I’ll just ask him one of those days – it’s not like it’s important.”

“Jon, this is important,” Tommy protested, and Jonathan cursed himself for having brought up the subject in the first place. “This is about your parents, dammit – if you don’t want to ask him, I could –”

“No. Please. Forget it,” Jonathan interrupted him in a definite tone, not wanting his friend to get maudlin about it. “Besides, it’s more than likely that he’s just heard some story or other about them. In their time, they were quite famous in their line of work, after all.”

Tommy was silent for a minute, looking uncomfortable, and Jonathan had the time to feel his cheeks cool down to a more normal state. What had Alex said, the other time? ‘We’re lads, you know how it goes.’

Yes, he knew.

“C’mon,” Tommy finally said, clapping his friend’s shoulder energetically, “it’s all right – you’ve the right to be pig-headed about personal stuff. Now let’s get you someplace cheery. What about that Sultan’s Casbah?”

Jonathan couldn’t help a smile. After having recovered from the bear-like clap that had driven all air from his lungs, that is. “That’d be nice. But don’t you have work to do?”

Tommy gave him a milder version of the evil eye. “You might not have noticed, but it’s Saturday. Hence, no work for me today.”

“Then tell me what the hell you are doing here?” Jonathan asked, a good-natured smirk pulling at his mouth. Tommy’s evil eye improved a lot.

“‘That your way of thanking me for coming to work on a Saturday for you?”

Jonathan actually let out a laugh. “You – don’t tell me you were dumb enough to come just to introduce me to Hamilton!”

There was a beat. Then Tommy cleared his throat, and walked past his friend toward the building’s exit. “Let’s get started, now, shall we?”

Jonathan was still sniggering when they left the British Consulate, and Tommy had rarely looked closer to sulking.

.⅋.

Cairo was always changing.

When Rick used to live there, from 1912 to 1921, the city already had many faces: from Downtown Cairo with its imposing European-style buildings and gleaming cars to the little desert towns on the outskirts where the main means of transportation had been camels and horses – with a preference for the first, because of their never-ending endurance and resistance to the harsh conditions of the desert.

The part of town he’d called his was definitely the latter rather than the former. There had been no real streets, only more or less broad paths of earth, dotted with shit and detritus. The fort and the biggest buildings were already there as they were now, and some houses too, but they stood like white oases lost in swathes of dirty yellow sand. If you climbed onto a rooftop, you could see the heart of the city in the distance, with its light stone buildings, its tall bridges, and its broad streets well-lit with gas street lights.

Not so now.

In place of most of the once-familiar bumpy earth roads now lay tarred streets on which cars were slowly replacing camels. On the pavements, lit by a growing number of electric street lamps, walked almost as many Cairo residents as foreigners, tourists or adventure-seekers, and the contrast was stark between the flashy ladies’ suits, the colourful, but simpler djellabas of the men, and the darker, soberer clothes of the Egyptian women, most of whom wore veils.

And it wasn’t as if the Egyptian metropolis was the only place that was different from what he remembered. London was now officially the place where he had lived the longest, and he could actually witness the changes taking place day by day. On top of the usual smog, the city was growing darker with all the gas escaping from cars’ exhaust pipes. While a few years ago the wireless had been a luxury which only a handful of rich folks could afford, pretty much everybody owned a set these days, even if the news from the world they received through it did not always sound cheerful. There was war raging on in Spain, and rumour had it that Italy and Germany were about to get involved in the slaughter as well. Germany’s chancellor had annexed and rearmed the Rhineland, and though he did appear as a rather harmless eccentric, he was still an eccentric who had slowly but surely gotten a ragged post-war Germany back on its feet… according to his fans, anyway, which he had a lot of even in England. Since those were also the kind to foam at the mouth about Jewish people or Jesse Owens winning so much gold in the last Olympics, the last thing Rick wanted was to waste time talking to them.

The American stopped his musings to look up at the sky above him. It was about five in the afternoon, and it had turned from a wide, blinding stretch of white to a wide, blinding stretch of light blue. In a few hours, the blue would gradually deepen, before growing ink-black and sprinkled with small but bright stars. He had so often slept under them that he had found it unsettling to be unable to see them on his first nights in London, but they remained visible in Cairo, as long as you were in the right neighbourhood.

The stars were not his major concern right now. Evy had taken Alex to the Museum for the afternoon, and Rick, left to his own devices and facing the danger of dying from boredom, had decided to roam the town in search for a good time. A reasonable good time, of course, as Evelyn and her principles had somewhat changed definition of a ‘good time’.

It was good to be back on Cairo’s streets, just another face in the crowd, no matter how he might look. It was just not the same thing in London. You didn’t get the same faces – some people here had mugs you just couldn’t find anywhere else. Winston Havlock, for instance, or the warden who’d tagged along with them to Hamunaptra.

Rick turned round a corner and chuckled inwardly. He had been unconsciously heading for the Sultan’s Casbah. Maybe that was why Winston had seemed to pop up into his mind for no apparent reason. As for Warden Hassan, he had no idea why he had thought of that poor bastard.

The Casbah was still as dingy and dark as he had known it, but now thrill-seeking tourists could be seen mingling with the rougher, shadier regulars.

It looked like the whole world was definitely changing.

“Rick O’Connell, I presume.”

Rick gave a small laugh. He’d know that British accent anywhere.

He turned, and sure enough, was met with a pair of slightly slanted blue eyes and a smirk.

“Fancy seeing you here, old boy, of all places.”

“It’s five in the afternoon, Jonathan,” the American said, his voice quietly mocking. “Bit early to go looking for trouble in a bar, even for you.”

“Tut-tut, my good son. What makes you think I go looking for trouble?”

“’Cause trouble usually finds ya.” Rick looked from Jonathan to Ferguson. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. Ferguson, is it?”

“Yeah, Thomas Ferguson,” said the guy, holding out a hand which Rick shook. “I don’t know Cairo that much, so Jon here was showing me around – typical sights and all that.” He grinned, and Rick got the impression that he and Jonathan shared the same sense of humour. Lord have mercy.

“Come on, instead of talking nonsense, come and have a drink with us!” Jonathan suggested enthusiastically. “I could use a little bit of cheering up, to tell the truth – I’ve just met Nosferatu.”

“Nos who now?” The name was not entirely unfamiliar to Rick, who searched his memory. “Oh, right, that old creep from the moving pictures. Did you bump into the actor or something?”

“No, his boss –” Jonathan pointed to Tommy “– wanted to see me about what happened at the Museum. Seems that the Research Department was keeping an eye on the diamond.”

“And this guy looked like a vampire?”

“The closest to the real thing I’ve ever seen.” His brother-in-law’s eyes shifted from Rick to a large camel led by a small Egyptian girl. An amused smile replaced the previous smirk, and he gave a little friendly wave. Rick arched an eyebrow, surprised.

“You know that girl?”

“Her camel, mostly. Knowing you, I bet you’d find the story very funny.”

“I’m not sure I wanna know,” Rick said, before looking at Ferguson, who shrugged to show he didn’t know what his friend was talking about. After a second’s thinking, though, he turned back to Jonathan, frowning slightly.

“Actually I’d like to know. What did you –?”

“Gentlemen? Would you come with us, if you please?”

The voice was low-pitched and sharp, and as Rick turned round, he saw that it matched its owner perfectly. The guy who had just gotten out of the black Lincoln parked a few feet away wore a dark suit and felt hat, and small glasses; his face was, for the lack of a better word, blank. The two others standing on either side of him, wearing similar suits and fedoras completed a picture that was very odd, and not a little bit spooky.

Tommy’s blond eyebrow shot up as Jonathan’s blue eyes narrowed. “Uh, to where?” Rick asked, his instinct awakening in his guts. “You lost or something?”

“No, we’re not,” said Oddball Number Two, on the left of Middle Oddball. “Please be so kind as to follow us.”

“We didn’t do it, whatever it is,” Jonathan, his voice a little more high-pitched than ordinary – maybe it was the idea of these strange guys asking for him, or else Rick was perhaps not the only one with instincts. Unless it was just Jonathan being Jonathan. “What do you think we did, by the way?”

His question was met with a smile. It seemed like a term adequate enough to describe it, although Rick had once seen a rather similar expression flicker over Imhotep’s face. His regenerated face, of course.

“You will be informed in due time. Please follow us – now.”

“Rick…” muttered Jonathan, low enough to prevent the Oddball Gang from hearing the words, “I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”

“Think I do?” Rick retorted between clenched teeth, before willing his lips into a smile, which turned out to be just as grim as Oddball Number Three’s. “You know what? I don’t like it much when people order me around for absolutely no reason. So, you have two options. One, you tell us where the hell you want to take us, and why. Or you keep your mouth shut and you walk away from us. Pick one.”

Something changed very slightly on Middle Oddball’s face, and as the doors of the black Lincoln opened again, three more dark-clad men getting out, Rick realised that a real, intentional smirk was in fact pulling at his mouth. The rear guard Oddballs went to stand behind the original three, their hands in their trouser pockets so that the gun holsters showed under their jackets.

He heard Jonathan beside him gulp uneasily.

“Now listen here, fellows – we don’t want any sort of trouble,” the Englishman said, and Rick, who knew him well, could discern a rising note of fear in his voice. He wasn’t sure anyone else had spotted that as well, though. The man was a better actor than his sister when he wanted to. “So let’s stay calm, and converse like civilised people. I’m sure there’s got to be an error somewhere –”

Jonathan’s voice trailed off as Oddballs Two and Three took out their own guns and pointed them directly at him.

“There is no ‘error’, Mr Carnahan,” stated Middle Oddball – or Number One, as Rick was starting to call him – coolly, very calmly. “This is simply an invite for you to join us. We don’t want any trouble either.”

None of them moved, and the situation seemed to settle as a stalemate. Rick cursed himself every name he could think of for having gone out without a gun, even a small one. His gut feeling was now screaming at him not to follow these guys. And there had not been a single occasion when he had listened to his instinct and done the wrong thing.

Okay, maybe just once or twice.

To his left, he could see Jonathan’s face growing paler, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. Aside from these, he showed no other signs of fear, and stood firmly his ground. Were it not for the circumstances, Rick would have allowed a smile. The world was changing, but so were a few people around him, it seemed.

‘Yes, yes, it’s obviously very fine heroics, O’Connell,’ Jonathan had said on occasion when past events were discussed. Rick could easily recall the sarcastic look in his brother-in-law’s eyes and the matching note in the English-accented voice. ‘But there are times when backing down really is the smartest option, you know.’ Thinking back on it, Rick realised that it was one of the rare occurrences where Jonathan’s view had matched Ardeth Bay’s. Live today, fight tomorrow.

Where was that doggone Medjai when you needed him?

From the corner of his eye, Rick looked past Jonathan over to the streets, half-wishing Ardeth to materialise out of the blue to help them, like he sometimes did. Time was not stopping for them, as he saw that almost nobody had noticed what was going on in that shaded alley… Almost nobody.

For there was somebody. The young Egyptian girl he’d seen earlier, her right hand clutching at the reins of her camel, was standing near a wall, her eyes fixed on them. From where he stood, Rick couldn’t see her very well, but the expression on her face half-hidden by long, tangled hair was clearly fear. It slowly shifted to nervous determination as their eyes met, and she nodded.

The American couldn’t see what was coming, but he knew something was coming. He looked back towards Number One, who was saying, his voice grating like steel against steel, “…starting to become preposterous. This is not an invite, this is an order! We are armed, you are not, the wisest choice for you would be to come quietly, don’t you –”

Number One’s head snapped toward the main street at Rick’s left as a camel came galloping in their direction, bawling like he’d just escaped hell. The Egyptian girl was running behind the stray beast, appearing to try to catch it and not doing a very good job of it. As the camel tumbled into the Oddball rear guard, causing much confusion among the ranks, Rick lost no time and ran like a maniac, grabbing Ferguson, who had stood frozen the entire time, by the collar of his jacket, Jonathan on his heels.

A split second’s look behind them was enough to understand that the Oddball gang had no intention of abandoning the pursuit. In fact, three were getting back into the Lincoln, and the other three were already after them on foot.

The situation was getting a little desperate. This was almost the outskirts of the city, which meant a clear enough path for the car, and there was very little chance the Gang would not catch up with them.

That’s when Rick noticed that Jonathan wasn’t with them anymore.

“Shit!”

Before he could ask Ferguson about it, say anything at all, or even decide between fury or concern for his brother-in-law, a loud horn pierced the din, and both Ferguson and the American whirl to find a brown, curly-haired head emerging from a convertible idling nearby. The motor was roaring.

“C’mon, get in! We haven’t got all day, for cripes’ sake!”

Not sense wasting time in asking where this car came from, or even how Jonathan had managed to get it running without keys. Rick, followed by Ferguson, leapt over the door as the car shot off at top speed, its tyres screeching. Familiar with Jonathan’s ‘emergency’ driving, Rick clung at whatever he could grasp, and saw Ferguson, looking kind of pale, do the same as he yelled, “PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN, JON!”

Never a good adventure without a good scare on the road, thought Rick, looking behind to see the three remaining Oddballs rush into the Lincoln and after them. This was the third time he was forced to escape in a car, or at least a motored vehicle. At least, the two first times they’d had weapons to defend themselves, and Ardeth on their side, which had been a considerable advantage, to use one of those understatements Brits were so fond of. The first time, their opponents had been a large, crazed mob of zombies possessed by Imhotep. The second, it had been four decaying mummy warriors woken up by Imhotep.

Now, this time, they were being pursued by six men, all-human, non-mummy regular guys. But it looked as if the difference was slim, as these men seemed to be vying for their blood as well.

While every bump and pothole in the road brought the car closer to flying, Rick wondered whether their old mummy buddy had a part in all of this. If he did, then things didn’t look so bad – they were kind of used to the end of the world, after all, and Rick had at least the promise of some serious mummy ass kicking before the end. That was already something.

Ferguson glanced behind, and yelled, “They’re gettin’ closer, Jon! Where are you driving to exactly?”

“I have no bloody idea!” yelled back Jonathan, his hands clasping the wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. Rick had to carefully keep to his side of the car, as far as possible from the driver, who kept turning the wheel so sharply his elbows sometimes missed Rick’s face by inches. Alex would probably have found his uncle’s antics quite funny. Thank God he’s not here.

He turned from the black car still following them to the landscape ahead of them. A landscape which he knew quite well, for having followed Evy down there countless of times.

“Jonathan!” Rick shouted, trying to point to the direction without letting go too much – the car’s jerks would have thrown him out easily. “Next street to the left leads to Giza – take it!”

“What’s that you said?”

“GIZA! On your LEFT! Take the NEXT STREET to Giza!”

“Right-ho, partner!”

Just as he said those words, Jonathan gave a deadly turn of the wheel, and had Rick and Ferguson not been holding on for dear life, that would have been their last ride. It would be a sheer miracle if all of Rick’s organs were still in the right place, because his insides sure felt all mixed up.

Still, it worked.

The Lincoln roared past the street in a flash, and the three of them cheered as the road to Giza stretched ahead of them, across the Nile. The top of the Great Pyramid was already in sight, and it seldom had been such a welcome one. Sure, it would take the Gang little time to slow down and make a U-turn, but that little stunt had at least bought them some time. Rick allowed himself to relax slightly, and he saw Ferguson sag a bit in the back seat. The Englishman looked a little green around the edges. Hell, the American felt slightly sick to the stomach himself. At least, the other two times, he’d had something to get busy with, like zombies and mummies, and afterwards he couldn’t tell the bruises he’d got from them from the ones he’d got from Jonathan’s driving.

Now, being forced to actually pay attention to the road, Rick had to admit that he definitely wasn’t feeling quite comfortable when his brother-in-law was driving on such extreme occasions. Even if this was their only lifesaver.

A weird noise coming from the inside of the automobile interrupted his line of thought and he stared worriedly at a point somewhere near his ankle. “Something wrong?”

Jonathan opened his mouth to answer, but was cut by Ferguson’s cry of “Hey! They’re back!”

They were. The shiny black Lincoln was racing again behind them, the sight even stranger on this almost desert road, under that sun. It reminded Rick of a black bug in the middle of the desert.

And the noise in the engine wasn’t stopping. On the contrary.

“What’s the matter with this car?” yelled Rick, his guts churning. Jonathan shook his head, looking rather desperate, his face white under the sweat and the dust.

“I don’t know!” His eyes widened, and he stole a bemused, almost angry glance at the American. “How the hell would I know, anyway? This car isn’t mine!”

Rick rolled his eyes. They were doomed.

The Lincoln was now half a mile behind them, and to their horrified surprise, the motor gave a sputter and the car started to slow down.

Two voices rose in the same time.

“Step on the gas, Jon!”

“Do something, goddammit!”

Jonathan fumbled with the gearbox and the cords sticking out from under the glove compartment, but it didn’t seem to stop the car from slowing down. Looking at a complete loss, he looked up to the skies, his face ashen, his jaw clenched. “Our Lady of the Blessed Acceleration, don’t fail me now…2”

Rick fought back a fit of nervous laughter that threatened to burst out. He’d have to remember that one.

Either Jonathan’s bizarre prayer was heard or one of his attempts was successful. The engine started up again and the car picked up speed. Rick released the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding.

But it was still a little bit early for rejoicing, it seemed. The Lincoln was now less than a quarter of a mile behind them and gaining more ground.

The Nile divided into two branches where they crossed it, so fast that the great river whooshed past them in the blink of an eye, at over sixty miles an hour. Now the bases of the three pyramids were visible, and the gigantic statue of the Sphinx stood seemingly right in front of them. The road was perfectly straight for two miles, and they were the only two cars, except for a big truck they could see miles away behind the Lincoln.

“Boy, are we in trouble,” he heard Ferguson mutter behind him.

We’re in big trouble, his mind echoed as two Oddballs leant out the windows, and pointed their guns at them.

“GET DOWN!” Rick shouted, as one, then two gunshots cracked through the roar of the engine. The three of them sank at once in their respective seats, Jonathan just peering from over the wheel.

“Maniacs!” he yelled, making Rick jump a little and look at him bemusedly. “Bloody bunch of completely cracked lunatics!”

His face looked halfway between equally intense terror and fury, and it seemed that the second had taken over the first. Rick actually grinned in spite of the gunshots. His brother-in-law was quite funny indeed when he let something like this happen, and the thought of Alex’s burst of laughter when he told him afterwards cheered him up consequently.

However, this feeling was short-lived. As they arrived at a fork in the road, the first camels, horses and tents of an archaeological party drawing into view, another shot cracked through the air, and the car gave a great swerve. Jonathan shouted something that made Rick himself wince. Evy would have undoubtedly either fainted right away had she heard that or, more likely, bitten his head off.

The car left the road, and the three men clung onto whatever they could to avoid being thrown out.

“Think they’ve hit a tyre!” cried Ferguson, looking down over the door to his left.

“Ya think!?” retorted Rick sarcastically as he turned briefly to him. “Now what?” he asked Jonathan, who struggled hard to keep the wheel from jerking violently.

“The car, it’s – I can’t – HANG ON!!” he shouted suddenly, his eyes wide with terror. Rick took one look ahead, and his heart seemed to stop beating for a second. The car had been zigzagging among the tents and was now heading at top speed toward an overhang that looked about six feet high.

No, not heading. They were already on it. Rick dived in his seat.

There was an eerie second during which the car seemed to fly in absolute silence and grace. Then, as all good things eventually come to an end, there was a mighty crashing noise and what felt like a violent earthquake to the occupants in the car, followed by various metallic sounds indicating that the brave, finally beaten car was falling apart. Finally, a high cloud of thick dust enveloped everything in brownish yellow silence.

Rick slowly opened one wary eye, then, as nothing happened, opened the other. He was still curled up in his seat, a bit bruised, sure, but alive. Just as slowly, he sat up, grasping the door of the car for support. Dust was everywhere, and he couldn’t see a damn thing. “Everyone all right?” he croaked, shaking sand off his hair.

“‘M right ‘ere,” mumbled a shaky voice behind him, and a hand grasped the back of his seat. “Jesus bloody Christ, what a ride… Can’t believe I survived Cambrai3 for this…”

So Ferguson was okay. Good.

“Jonathan?”

No reply.

“Jonathan, are you here?”

The dust was settling, and as the cloud dispersed, Rick could see that Jonathan was still sitting beside him, staring right in front of him with wide eyes, his back straight, stiff as a board. The wheel was still clutched in his hands, except that it was no longer attached to the car.

The picture would have been hilarious in other circumstances.

“Hey, Jonathan,” said Rick, somewhat concerned, “you okay?”

Still no reply. His brother-in-law looked like somebody struck by lightning, except that he was covered in dust and sand, not roasted on the spot. Puzzled, Rick reached out to poke his shoulder. “Hey, time to wake up n—whoa!” Jonathan had jumped a foot in the air, as if Rick’s hand had sent electricity through his body. He blinked once, very slowly, then turned blue eyes that had recovered most of their usual character to his brother-in-law.

“Don’t do that.”

Oh, yeah. That shoulder still gave him grief sometimes4. “Sorry,” said Rick with a grin, happier than he’d thought he’d be to have him back. “You almost had me worried for a minute. You sure you’re not hurt at all?”

“No, I’m fine. Just a little bit shaken, I guess. Tommy?”

“I’m all right, Jon,” answered Ferguson’s still shaken voice. “Just remind me not to get in a car when you’re driving next time, mate.”

“No problem.”

They scrambled out of the car, Rick kicking the mangled door open. It fell on the ground with a grim-sounding thud. “Jonathan, who was the owner of that car?”

“A very unfortunate person,” deadpanned Jonathan, leaning against the radiator grill, his knees wobbling. Rick rolled his eyes.

“Well, we’ll soon be far more ‘unfortunate’ than this guy if we don’t scram right now!” Peeking over the overhang, he saw that the Gang had left the Lincoln and was now searching for them among the tents. “We gotta get out of here.”

Jonathan didn’t move. He was staring at a tent a few feet away with a glint in his eyes. “I say, why don’t we just put on some of their large robes and wait till these guys are gone? No need for ugly confrontations, is there?”

Rick thought about it, rejected the idea, then looked over the promontory again.

Okay, so maybe they really had no other choice after all.

But as he turned from the cliff to the beaten, dusty car, he heard a quiet voice say, “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Jon.”

Rick turned. What he saw made his heart leap in his throat. Ferguson was standing near the car, a sorrowful expression on his face, and a gun in his hand, aimed directly at Jonathan.

To say Rick was shocked was a little far from the truth. In fact, he couldn’t have said what he felt at that point. Shocked, yes, stunned, probably, furious, definitely – most likely a combination of the three, plus a few other feelings he didn’t bother to break down. For one second, he was tempted to be furious at Jonathan’s credulity and misguided trust… But his anger abated when he took one look at his brother-in-law’s face. Rick felt a nasty pang in the guts at his expression. It was pretty understated for a betrayal of this magnitude: just open-mouthed shock and the promise of a gut-wrenching pain when it settled.

Neither Englishman moved, and this silent stillness seemed to root Rick to the spot as well. His guts were screaming for him to run, and he could have, if he had wanted. But coming back to Evelyn to tell her that her brother had been taken by weirdos in black suits and hats after being backstabbed by a friend? Better face whatever was in store for them.

The Oddball gang caught up with them, the six guys in suits walking as silently as shadows. Each footstep lifted a tiny cloud of dust. Before it came down, the men were standing around them, each revolver pointed at them.

“Well, well, well,” said Number One, raising an eyebrow at the scene. “After all the trouble you have caused us and this entertaining chase, it would eventually seem that you have done all of this for nothing. How unfortunate.”

Rick had very rarely felt a stronger impulse to deck a guy. He suppressed a growl, and cast a deadly glare at the smaller man.

“Oh, you can stare at me, Mr O’Connell, for all the good it will do,” smirked Number One, his voice insufferably smug. “But look at the facts: the odds are against you, and there is no camel to save you this time.” One wave of his hand, and three guns were aimed at his chest from less than four feet away. “If you truly wish to try some heroics, you are welcome to do so. However, know that we have orders to take the two of you alive, if possible.”

Okay. So these guys didn’t give a damn if they died, but it’d be more convenient that they didn’t. Rick was sorely tempted to send them all to hell, but he had one reason not to. He’d never see Evy and Alex again if he did. This particular reason had far more weight than any other excuse to go nuts and do something stupid.

He willed his tense muscles into relaxing slightly, and even allowed himself the luxury of a smile. “I wouldn’t give you this pleasure, you little piece of shit.”

Number One’s eyes narrowed and he stuck up his nose. “Falling back on verbal violence when physical assault is impossible. This is so crass and so very American that I’m not in the least surprised, Mr O’Connell.”

The screeching noise of big tyres stopping on a rough road came from the trail, a little far behind, and Number One unveiled his eye-teeth in a smile again. “It seems our friends have arrived. Gentlemen, with your permission, we’ll be your escort.”

“So we don’t get lost? Great. Didn’t know we were so popular.” The sensation of one Oddball’s gun being pressed between his shoulder blades silenced Rick for a little while. He took the opportunity to look around.

He and Jonathan were being led to a truck, the very same truck he’d seen earlier behind the Lincoln. The back of the truck opened, and Rick was ordered to get in. As he climbed deftly onto the floor, he looked behind him to see Number One holding Jonathan back for a minute.

“If this is of any comfort to you, Mr Carnahan,” he said in that smug voice of his, “I’ll let you know that Mr Ferguson had very little choice.”

Rick couldn’t see Jonathan’s eyes. He kept his gaze to the ground. Behind the rest of the Gang, a few feet away, Ferguson’s face was downcast as well.

“That means he did have a choice, then, didn’t he.” It hardly sounded like a question at all. Something twisted Rick’s insides at the sound of Jonathan’s voice. In almost a dozen years, he had never heard his brother-in-law sound so thoroughly defeated.

Number One gave a very small smile, one not unlike Imhotep’s when he had advanced toward Rick for the killing blow. “I don’t deny that.”

This time, Rick all but leapt from his spot on the floor of the truck to punch the bastard into the ground.

Jonathan climbed into the truck in turn, and went to sit a few feet away from his brother-in-law, still looking down.

Rick was wondering whether or not he should try to catch his gaze when the Oddball standing near him seized his revolver by the barrel and brought it down.

Everything went black.

.⅋.

(Don't kill me. But I hope you had come to actually like Tom. I know, authors are cruel. And it’s not even the worst thing I planned since I begun taking notes because a plot mummy was gnawing at my toes.)

Notes:

1باشا (bāša): “sir”, “mister” in Egyptian Arabic.

2Quoth Elwood Blues.

3The Battle of Cambrai (also called the Second Battle of Cambrai), fought between English and German forces in October 1918.

4From the scarab Rick had to cut out of it. And may I state for the record “YEEEESH.”

See you next Friday!

[midnightcindy]

To Love a Sinner: Chapter 13

        The way into the Howard estate was damned near impossible. In fact, with Alyn’s lack of espionage training, it was a suicide mission just showing up. Alyn’s line of work called for less finesse: a hard knock on the head, a kick to the gut, a bullet through the skull, and the subsequent disposal of any remaining bits. This mission tonight was anything but quick.

        Alyn read carefully over the instructions that Nico had already worked out. Thankfully, at least someone had put some thought into how to get in. From the detail Nico had written, someone would have believed that he lived there; seriously, what was that kid doing as muscle? His talent was clearly in the details.

        The information file burned into Alyn’s brain, he carefully followed the path through the woods that Nico had found. Alyn moved his way silently past the guards patrolling the property, carefully avoiding the areas that were marked as watchdog territory. Soon he was slipping in through the back veranda, hiding among topiaries and hugging the path that had been plotted for him on the map. He carefully watched the gentle sweep of the cameras, and prayed that he wouldn’t make a wrong step.

          Since God clearly wasn’t watching out for someone like him, it must have been sheer luck that he was able to get in through the french doors cresting the patio. He dug through his pocket until he found the lock picking kit Leo showed him how to use, and after three tries, the door creaked open. He breathed carefully as he ducked inside, laying low in the darkness of the sunroom. Alyn closed his eyes, searching for the next step.

          Through the sunroom, past the kitchen, into the main hall. The stairs to the second floor, hug the left railing, cross the hall. Alyn breathed low as he approached two ornate, wooden doors. Pulling his gun from his belt, he held it at eye level, and exhaled. Alyn pushed the door open with one hand, and stopped.

          An elegant man in a lax version of a suit- an undershirt with exposed suspenders, wrinkled slacks, and a tie that had been loosened after a long day- with a shock of blonde hair rested his hip on a large desk made of heavy wood, a document in hand. He chewed on a pair of spectacles as he read, his silky hair covering his face until he looked up.

          For a moment his eyes were cold and unfocused, until he saw the gun Alyn had pointed at his face. His cool demeanor fell, and he raised his hands, glasses and papers hanging loosely in his fingers. “Don’t shoot.”

          “Yeah, that’s not why I’m here,” Alyn said softly, shutting the door behind him.

          Louis Howard lowered his hands, dropping the glasses on the table.

          Alyn cocked his gun nervously. “Don’t fucking move, Howard.”

          “All right,” he said, his voice even enough. “Just tell me why you want me dead, and maybe we can make a deal.”

          “I’m just doing what Mr. Branche hired me to do,” Alyn admitted, moving closer. “That should tell you enough.”

          “Look, whatever Robert is paying you, I can triple it,” Howard said, his hands outstretched.

          “Right,” Alyn said, scoffing. “Except he's paying me in ways that you couldn’t match.”

          “Please,” Howard begged, although his voice never wavered. “I’m just a man with a family, trying to provide.”

          Alyn chewed the inside of his lip. “Nice story,” he said. “But I’m not the emotional type.”

          Of course the next voice to speak would make Alyn regret his words. “Daddy?”

          Alyn’s eyes widened, his face running cold. A boy walked into the room, no more than five years old, his big, blue eyes red and sleepy. He rubbed at his face, blanket trailing behind him. “Daddy,” he said again. “Who is that?”

          Alyn wasn’t ready to see this. No, he thought, not again.

             “Mommy,” Alyn said, clutching a teddy bear. He walked into the tiny kitchen from his bedroom, leaving Leo still sound asleep in their bunk bed. He was so tired, and he yawned with a tiny squeal. “Mommy, I heard a funny noise.”

             Alyn walked forward, past the cupboard that was blocking the tiled floor. He cocked his head when he saw a pair of slippered feet poking out. Turning the corner, there was a funny smell in the room. It reminded him of warm pennies. “Mommy?”

             His mother was lying on the ground. Thinking she fell asleep in the kitchen, Alyn moved toward her head to wake her up. He stepped in something hot. Looking to his feet, the floor was covered in a red liquid. “Mommy,” Alyn repeated. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

             She didn’t answer.

             “Mom,” he tried again, poking at her chest.

             Her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.

             Alyn screamed.

             Alyn was breathing heavily, his gun shaking as it pointed toward Louis Howard.

          “It’s all right, Charlie. Go back to bed.”

          “Daddy,” Charlie said, shuffling forward. “Why does he have a gun?”

          Alyn couldn’t breathe. His finger was trembling on the trigger. Why was he here? Who was that man?

          “Charlie,” Howard said, backing away from Alyn. “Go to your room.”

          “Daddy,” Charlie said louder.

          Alyn heard the voice. No witnesses.

             “I… I can’t…” Alyn muttered.

          “Charles,” Louis warned, pointing at his son. “Do as daddy says!”

          “I… I…” Alyn’s head was spinning. Mom? Wake up!

             Charlie started to cry. “I’m scared!”

          “It’s okay,” Howard said.

          Alyn’s gun was falling now. He couldn’t see. He pressed a hand to his face. “I can’t do this,” he muttered.

          Howard paused, looking back to Alyn. “What?”

          “I can’t live in this nightmare anymore,” he said, crumpling to his knees. The gun slipped from his hold, falling onto the carpet. The air was still.

          Alyn flinched when he felt a tiny hand on his cheek. He looked up, eyes stretched and tired, and stared into the soft blue pools of innocence. “It’s okay,” Charlie said. “I have nightmares too.”

          Alyn felt his chin quiver, and he ducked his head, crying softly. He saw Leo’s face, young and still so innocent, holding his brother. The police lights flashed around them in the cold night, the night that held so many memories from so long ago. It’s okay, Alyn, Leo said. Someone will take care of us.

          Alyn reached out without thinking and held onto the small child. He shivered helplessly, hugging the little boy close, comforting the shadow of himself.

           Then, Alyn felt another hand on his shoulder, a larger stronger one, and he looked up. Louis Howard was kneeling next to him, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”

          Alyn sniffled, wiping at his face as he released the little boy. He cleared his throat, wiping at his face and nodding. “You got anything strong?”

 ________

           “So,” Louis said, his fingers a steeple resting on his lips, “what do you think?”

          Alyn finished his second drink, grunting at the burn that coated his throat. “It sounds too good to be true.”

          Louis chuckled, leaning forward in his chair to pour Alyn another glass from the decanter.

          Alyn covered his glass, shaking his head politely. “Sorry,” he said tiredly, “I normally don’t even drink this much.”

          Louis nodded, and leaned back again. “If you insist.” He took a thoughtful breath, then settled his hands on his lap. “Mr. Crawford, I am prepared to offer you everything I have said and more. All you have to do is exchange some information to me.”

          Alyn shook his head snickering. “And how do I know you’ll actually come through?”

          “Because I believe you’re a good man,” he said seriously. “A good man who has led a life through a series of unfortunate events.”

          “How do you figure that?” Alyn quipped, settling back into the armchair.

          “You couldn’t kill me or my son, even though you were given direct orders. That doesn’t sound like a heartless thug to me.”

          Alyn smirked, stretching out his legs over the thick rug. “You know what I think?”

          “What is that,” Louis asked.

          “I think you’re just sweet talking me,” Alyn challenged. “I think the minute I give you what you want, you’re just gonna shoot me on my way out the door. You really think I believe you can keep me safe from Robert?” Alyn shook his head, laughing. “I can’t even keep me safe from Robert, and he trusts me. Can’t keep anyone safe from that bastard…”

          Louis narrowed his eyes, and stood. Strolling to the wall, his hands in his pockets, he seemed to be deep in thought. Alyn watched as he stared at a portrait of his family. The Howards looked regal as ever, Louis standing proudly, his arms draped around his wife and child as if both embracing and protecting them. Louis mused, “Do you have a family, Mr. Crawford?”

          Alyn stared blankly at the portrait. “What does it matter?”

          “Would you do anything to protect them?”

          Alyn went quiet. He thought of the only two people that mattered to him, and he found himself sinking into his seat.

          “So would I,” Louis murmured, and turned on his heel to face Alyn. “Believe me when I say that you and I are not so different, Mr. Crawford. So trust my words when I say that in keeping your family safe, I can also protect mine.” Louis stood over Alyn, leaning slightly to set his arm on the backrest. He stared down into Alyn’s eyes as he spoke firmly. “Tell me what I need to know, and in turn, I will see to it that those you hold dear can live long, happy lives away from this madness. Do we have a deal?”

          Alyn stared down at the hand lingering in front of him. In Louis’ palm, he could see Leo and Billie, relaxing on a beach somewhere, not having to worry about phone calls from mob leaders or angry exes. Just tan skin and martinis, Leo’s laughter and Billie’s touch. Taking Louis’ hand, Alyn stood. “I want them safe, first. Then I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

          Louis grinned. “Very well. I can arrange to have them sent off wherever you like, completely untraceable. Robert will never be able to find any of you.”

          Alyn gripped Louis hand tighter. “Let’s get one thing straight, Howard,” he said firmly. “I don't give a damn what happens to me, but if one of them gets hurt, I’ll kill you myself.”

          Louis Howard grinned, shaking Alyn’s hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Louis released Alyn and wandered back to his desk. “You twenty-four hours to get them here, and I can handle it from there. When you get back here, you’ll give Byron anything he needs on Robert’s operation. Then, I’ll sneak you off. But until you get here, you’re on your own.”

          Alyn nodded stiffly with his chin, and tugged on his leather jacket. Cracking his neck, he walked briskly out of the study. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”