#damn near gave me PTSD

[confused-wanderer]

The villains are utterly confused.

They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.

The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.

But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:

The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.

SCENE 1

Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.

Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..

Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?

Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*

Red Hood:

Two-Face:

Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?

Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!

Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?

Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?

Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?

Two-Face:

Goon 1: I mean.. yeah

Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!

Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??

Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.

Red Hood:

Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones

Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-

SCENE 2

Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!

Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!

Nightwing: .. robin?

Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?

Nightwing:

Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after

Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.

Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.

Nightwing:

Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)

[nightcolorz]

I would love to hear your thoughts on autistic Armand, if you haven’t already spoke about this! Imo he’s very autsitic coded, and it’s very precious to me as an autistic iwtv fan :]

OMG!!! RUNS AROUND. Yes lmao I talk about this a lot actually it is one of my favorite Armand things to meta about bcus I’m also autistic and he is my special interest🙏I was trying to find some of the stuff I’ve written about autistic Armand but tumblrs search engine makes it near impossible to find anything so I gave up 😭, but believe me they r out there. Even tho I talk about this a lot I would love love love to talk about it some more for u anon because I can never get enough of armandtism.

I first figured Armand was autistic when I was reading the vampire Lestat because when he is first introduced he is completely non verbal and only communicates through the mind gift. through further explanation it’s very much implied that he does this because he finds putting his thoughts into words hard and he considers just projecting them into peoples brains much easier. Armand speaks out loud for the first time like more than halfway through the book, and lestat is surprised to hear him lol. This is super autistic I feel like that’s obvious 🙏 it’s basically the vampire power equivalent of using a non verbal communication device. Armand having trouble with connecting with people, understanding how to “fit in”, and talking r prevailing parts of his character throughout the whole series (not just tvl) which solidified my headcanon into basically a canon fact in my mind lol.

When Armand is first introduced in iwtv his strangeness is chalked up to his vampirism, but it’s soon revealed throughout tvl and qotd that Armand is considered a strange outcast by other vampires. The things he struggles with r unique to him and r not representative of vampires in general. His otherness/strangeness can also not be chalked up to his trauma or his age turned because Armand was also an outcast as a young child. It’s described in the vampire Armand that Armand was not understood by his parents or his community because he was obsessed with and freakishly good at painting. His community interprets his unusualness as a sign of some divine intervention, the priests believe he is a saint or a prophet sent to earth, even at times saying things implying that he is “not human”. Unusually high quickly developing skill in childhood is an autistic trait, as is hyper fixation on an activity/topic that becomes a core identity factor and prevailing obsession. The affects of Armand’s trauma only worsen the severity of his autistic traits. C-ptsd and autism often overlap and coexist in autistic people who were traumatized in childhood, which seems to be Armand’s case.

in queen of the damned Armand is at his peak autistic lol, I feel like this is when most book readers gain that head canon. The Devils minion chapter revolves around Armand using Daniel as a guide to help him learn how to be “normal” and to blend in to the modern age. Armand can’t seem to figure out how to blend in on his own because he is unable to understand social norms of any time period enough to integrate himself into society. Armand is in love with technology and what most would consider monotonous sensory experiences. He stares at his own reflection for hours, he loves kitchen appliances and watching ingredients whir in blenders, cameras, he watches the same movie over and over again and never gets bored of it. The way Armand fixates on technology really reminds me of how a lot of autistic people played as children. He enjoys repetitive, sensory behaviors over “fun”. For Armand this means watching the same things repeatedly, which is a form of visual stimming. There r moments where Armand is trying to understand his world, but is so blind to what he is trying to understand that he goes about his discoveries wrong. Such as in qotd when he tries to interrogate strangers to gain information on societal norms but he only gets uncomfortable glances. Armand is desperate to understand and to connect but he is consistently inherently alienated, whether it be from humanity or from other vampires or from himself.

Armand also can not process his memories comprehendingly. This is part trauma part autism, but autism is def a factor. Because of his repressed trauma induced memory loss Armand finds it difficult to talk about himself to people. This is worsened by Armand being unable to comprehend the aspects of story telling that he needs to be able to tell people about his life. Armand explains to Daniel that he vividly remembers small details, such as dates and weather, but he could not tell Daniel what “things were like” because he “doesn’t know what that means”. Literal thinking, the inability to grasp vague, fiction based concepts like narratives and metaphor, and strict fixation on minor details like numbers, are all autistic traits!

Armand also struggles heavily with emotional regulation. He is described as often having intense and extreme meltdowns where he cries and screams and breaks things. Armand is easily bothered, in tva he mentions that he covers his ears when he is overwhelmed. The vampire Armand begins actually with Armand becoming overwhelmed in public and trying to escape to an attic so that he can be alone in silence. Armand copes with his intense emotions by putting on a mask of neutrality. He is often described as expressionless and blank, uncanny. But this is a mask, and when Armand can no longer mask and his disguise lapses his facial expressions r described by lestat as being so over the top and emotional that they are disturbing and weird. Over the top unnatural facial expressions as well as blank unreadable ones are both autistic traits. For Armand he is naturally overly emotive to the point of being considered horrifying, and he hides this by taking the opposite extreme. Either way, either expression Armand puts on causes him to be socially outcast.

Armand often describes feeling like there is something wrong with him that causes him to be isolated from others and he’s not sure what it is. In prince lestat he tells Gregory that he doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to have relationships when other vampires are fully capable of doing that. In the vampire Armand he explains to David that he’s crazy because his mind isn’t built right and his senses are tripled so he shouldn’t bother trying to understand him. I rlly relate to this as someone who felt like I was from another dimension as a child bcus i didn’t know the unspoken life rules everyone else did.

Armand is often treated like a child by the other vampires and assumed to be emotionally immature and too fragile and insane to be helpful. Armand says in the vampire Armand that he doesn’t consider himself an adult because he can’t function like one. This could be due to the age he was turned, but it’s shown to us that characters like Benji and even to an extent Claudia r able to self regulate and function appropriately despite being turned even younger then Armand was.

in conclusion, book Armand is an autistic person who was never given proper support or understanding because the environment and the time period he was born in decided to alienate him further rather then work to help him socialize and learn appropriate skills, and because of the necessities he has been deprived of and the horrible trauma he endured Armand is never able to learn to function in the way he was likely capable of. this recessive quality in pair with his autism caused Armand it be unable to cope or self regulate or learn ways to understand himself since he wasn’t given a chance to in his formative years. He’s a great representative of what many autistic people who experienced intense child abuse experience.

Im rlly happy with the shows portrayal with Armand so far partly because he is omg, so autistic. Show Armand shares so many of book Armand’s autistic traits. inability to understand himself or others, fixation on small details but inability to understand the big picture, etc. even his iPad is autistic asf! My ipad is my comfort item that I carry around with me to self sooth, and this is def the vibe Armand’s iPad gives me in the show. Even assads performance is autistic! He is able to play Armand masking and Armand unmasking, the stilted expressions he gives and the blank stares, the uncomprehending earnestness. AGHHHH!! Assad stims with his fingers when Armand is nervous too which is just an amazing touch. I hope the show explores Armand’s autism, because that would literally be a dream come true. Even still, for now I’m satisfied.

thank u so so much anon for the ask this made me so happy 🙏❤️ autistic Armand means so much to me and has gotten me though some tough times. Understanding and analyzing Armand helps me understand myself better and feel more comfortable with how I am. Earlier this year I gave myself a concussion because I was harmfully stimming during a meltdown, and while I was in the emergency room I was holding the vampire Armand and imaging that he would relate to what I was going through. So yeah he is very special to me too! And once again it makes me so so happy that u got me to talk some about it. I hope this was coherent or interesting lol I felt like I was all over the place

[genderqueerdykes]

i know this won't solve anything because racists are determined to be racist no matter what, but i realized i haven't shared a picture of my dad in a long time, so i'm going to do it again. when i came out as biracial a few years ago, people were asking me something to the effect of "What, did you get a new dad or something?". the thing is, i don't think a lot of folks realize that divorce can play a massive role in things like this. i'm not sure why the concept of divorce is hard for people to picture in this situation, but people's parents really do get divorced, and sometimes, the child is at a young age when it happens.

my dad left my life when i was 10 years old because he cheated on my mom and they separated. my mother kept me away from him at all costs and only allowed very rare, sporadic visits, usually where him and i would eat dinner together and that was really it. we would barely have time to actually talk or chat or do much of anything. i would pointedly avoid eye contact with him because i was still scared of him after all the abuse. i have extremely poor memory of my childhood due to constant abuse from both of my parents, resulting in PTSD and DID. i had a hard time remembering what my dad looked like because i hadn't seen him since i was a teenager, and struggle to remember damn near anything from the first decade of my life.

not everyone has both of their parents in their life, still. some people have had one or both parents die at a young age, and never get to meet their parents. because of how bitter the divorce was between my mom and my dad, there weren't just pictures of him around the house or anything like that. she hated him so bad she basically tried to erase him from both of our lives. he's an asshole, don't get me wrong, but i still deserved to know more about literally 1/2 of my parents.

looking through a photo book at my sister's house, i was finally able to see him again for the first time in a decade and it gave me a wave of emotions and memories. i remembered asking my mom as a kid if my dad was black, as he has dark skin, an afro, and nonwhite facial features. she would always laugh at me and tell me that he "just has a white guy afro" and would mock me for questioning if my dad wasn't white. she was very racist. this never sat right with me, it always felt wrong.

this photo was taken in the 1990's on a disposable camera, with the flash on. you can see the flash being reflected in my father's glasses, and on his forearm. that means that my father appears even darker in real life than he does in this photo. it's a shitty, grainy photo, i know, and i apologize, but you can clearly see my father's skin tone, hair and facial features despite how poor of a photo it is. again, the photo was taken in the 90's on a disposable camera

just because i'm pale from staying indoors most of the day due to being severely disabled does not erase my father. he is an entire ass person, and it doesn't matter how angry someone on the internet gets when i say that i'm mixed race, it doesn't erase my father and the genetics i carry from him. it doesn't matter how mad you get that mixed people look mixed. it doesn't change a damn thing.

you don't know someone's genetics just by looking at them. you don't know what someone's parents like just by looking at them. don't racially profile strangers. you have no idea what their genetics and families are like.

[cupcakeslushie]

What condition does donnie have in EW?

Schizophrenia?

Well, it’s a mix of PTSD from his childhood trauma, and hallucinations from being slightly exposed to Empyrean. So, while it’s all partly a cause based off fantasy, I do try and do my research to keep it in the realm of something concrete. Donnie has audio/visual hallucinations, depersonalization/dissociation, memory blanks, etc…. Pile that all, on top of his genius brain fighting a chaotic, disorganized mind that’s constantly in fight or flight mode.

I’ve had a few people say they recognize certain aspects of themselves in my Donnie, and so I think it’s less about assigning a specific name to what Donnie has, and more about the story of how he and the people that love him, help him in figuring out how to live a good life, while handling all the trauma he’s been through!

I’m right there with you, and that’s probably one of those things I gave all the boys to some extent, because damn, if that wasn’t me when I was younger 😅. I’ve since moved on to using less harmful means of stress relief, but it remains something that I just instantly read as an anxious habit lol—it’s just the levels and ways each of the boys exhibit it that vary.

Leo is the one more likely to pick and scratch to harm, because unfortunately, he does his as a type of holdover, self-flagellating from even the tiniest of mistakes. Mikey gets distracted with thinking up ideas, and bites his nails, sometimes a little too deeply. To the point where he’s drawing blood—it also sucks because he loves painting his nails. Raph will chew on his palms and knuckles from anxiety, but his skin is so tough, that he rarely does actual damage. Donnie will pick and scratch at everything—his hands, his arms, his face—especially when he hits a frustrating road-block. It won’t even register that he’s broken skin—his pain tolerance is so fucked up.

Donnie’s worst near death experience was, of course, the vivisection. He didn’t follow any after-care instructions, and infection very nearly killed him. Most of the other stuff was, of course, physically and mentally scarring, but not life-threatening. Thanks to being spaced out, with time for recovery, where Draxum just flat out ignored Three’s existence. As far as testing his endurance in the sleep department. Draxum made Three create a smaller, more refined version of the collars he made for Big Mama. When Draxum was tired of dealing with Three, but still feeling slightly generous, he’d force him to wear the device, rather than just chaining him up to the table. The watch would track Three’s heart rate and keep his path confined to set rooms only. Any time the watch detected Three was falling asleep, or outside of his approved perimeter, it would, you guessed it—shock him!

[pixeltwix]

-Emma May Hc Rambles

Now because I actually don’t have anything prepared to post for today (sleep sounded better than late night sketching) I decided to just ramble about lil misc facts about my ver of Emma May Dixon :) nothing crazy plot wise, simply just things that I haven’t mentioned before or made dedicated posts to yet

I always envisioned Emma May with a very specific southern accent, and it took a random shuffle of my Spotify to realize she sounds like Dolly Parton!! It was either this or Luanne from King of the Hill which also sounded close to what I imagined, but as far as voice claims go, my ver of Em sounds like Dolly :D

She has bpd and ptsd. The latter I don’t feel needs much explanation as that comes from the cult bg, but the bpd comes from her fathers side of the family and has been an active part of her for as long as she can remember

Considering the time period though her mood swings and times of anger were always just chalked up to ‘womens hysteria’ and the like, which only proved to frustrate her more

She admittedly does have a bit of a temper, but nothing ever harmful to the people she cares about, she more so has adapted to take things out on herself. Ie pulling her hair, digging her nails into her arms, or biting her knuckles. Anything to ground her into reality to try and calm herself down

Ultimately though once she runs away from home she was fortunate to be surrounded by people who came to understand her. Be it Stan understanding in his own way and showing her his own copes, Ford keeping her distracted with mindless rambling, her uncle or Carla just giving her space to breathe, or Fiddleford understanding mental plights and just becoming a person of comfort for her- she thankfully has people who care

She used to date Ford back in high school

This didn’t really start until senior year when the pressure was on for both of them, but it was nothing crazy and honestly something both of them did cause ‘well ig if I could date anyone it’d probably be you’

From Carla saying ‘Em, it’s a safe bet’, to Stan saying it’ll be Ford‘s only chance to ‘get the girl’ they both conceded and gave it a try

They broke up just before Ford’s first semester at Backupsmore upon mutual ground, both confessing they only ever really liked the other as a friend, but otherwise ‘hey if we don’t meet anyone by the time we’re 30 then let’s get married for the benefits’

But of course Em meets Fiddleford and the rest is history as we know it

She’s a smoker and it’s a main part of the reason why she never kicked Fiddleford for his own chewing tobacco habits

She stopped mostly a bit into dating Fidds because smoking for her was mainly a stress relief, so with him as something more calming she saw the need for it less and less, but the second she knows she could potentially be getting pregnant in their relationship she quits

She picks it up briefly again around the late 80s, but otherwise is completely done with it as a coping mechanism before the 90s

She had a crush on Stan when they were kids (and honestly she still kinda did for a little while after that as well)

She always saw her feelings as something unrealistic and Stan as unattainable though as once she finally planned on saying something he saved Carla at the movies and that relationship began (which the irony here is Em also discovered she liked girls through her friendship with Carla)

But her underlining feelings that simmered beneath friendship is what motivated her to take him in after he was kicked out of his home, it’s why she kept sending him money for so long, and it’s why she bought and kept an issue of ‘Hunky Drifters Catalogue’ that had Stan in it. Something she forgets she has until she unpacking in Palo Alto and damn near has a heart attack

She also reminds me of Captain Amelia from Treasure Planet, but alas I could only put six

But anywho I hOPE this makes sense??

For me it’s like, the intense drive and determination paired with the sass and capabilities of a temper when people don’t take them seriously energy that feels so Emma May core. That and they all have a special someone eventually that they’d live and die for wether they want to admit it or not

Anywho if you read this far, thank you for listening to my nonsense

[low-budget-korra]

The Legend of Korra premiered 12 years ago. Damn that went fast.

I was about 15 to 16'old when I first watched. I remember be like "how can they do an Avatar without the Gaang?" And be completed gagged in the first minute of the show. Korra stole my heart in the way no other character had to this day.

Watching her discover her world and deals with her life problems at the same time was I was doing the exactly same, was something I can't describe but I know a lot of fans can relate too. One of the darkest times of my life until then, she was with he as we fought together, her against PTSD and me against anxiety and suicidal depression. When she was discovering her sexuality, I also finally realized I gay as hell.

It paved the way to so many good and important things in cartoon media. Even tho I feel that Bryke kinda don't care about Korra or her show anymore (at least not as near as they do with The Gaang), I will forever be thankful for what they and cast and crew gave to us.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

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1. Hi! For the next ITMF can you recommend me a protective sibling JYL and JWY. I want them to tell LWJ if he just want to fight/berate/scolding WWX, he better stay away from WWX because of LWJ's attitude not only hurt WWX feeling but hurting WWX reputation and social standing.

Bonus if they team up with WQ and WN

Another bonus if they are angry at LXC at forcing a situation where LWJ and WWX forced to be together when LWJ is not ready to accept his own feeling. They are angry because it only benefit LWJ (he learn to deal with his feeling and socialize) and hurting WWX. Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

could you find a way to let me down slowly, if you’re leaving baby let me down slowly by ravenditefairylights (M, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Implied/Referenced Sex, Miscommunication, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Hurt WWX, Mutual Pining, Unreliable Narrator, Self-Esteem Issues, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Protective Siblings, Trauma, Slightly dubious consent, courtesy of drunk sex, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Phoenix Mountain, Chronic Pain, Getting Together, Fix-It of Sorts, One Braincell Trio, PTSD) 

~*~

2. Hello! First of all thank you for all your recommendations, my brain would probably rot without them. Do you know any fic where wwx has to marry/court/fake marry lxc but is in love with lwj, with the first jade knowing this and absolutely supporting it?

still left with the river by TooSel (E, 77k, WangXian, ChengQing, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Arranged Marriage, Political Alliances, Yílíng Wèi Sect, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Jealousy, Infidelity, Adoption, Angst with a Happy Ending, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation Sect Politics) still left with the river is pretty damn close

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3. ITMF: Hello! I recently read “Turn Left” and it gave me lots of Twin Jades of Lan feels. I’d love to read more fics where LWJ + LXC are separated while young and reunite as adults. I’ve read “we could turn the world to gold,” but those are the only fics I know of with a long-lost-brothers premise. It doesn’t need to be the whole focus, but I’d like something emotional that explores LWJ + LXC’s relationship. No incest, please, and if LWJ has romance I’d prefer wangxian endgame. Thanks so much!!

Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, wangxian, modern, unleashed au, Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx's biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending) nowhere near the focus of the story, as lwj and lxc were separated very young, but i found it interesting anyway

The Dreams of Youth by sami (E, 85k, WangXian, YZY/TLJ, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Fix-It, Family, Not Lan Sect Friendly, Bad Dads, good dads, JFM's A+ parenting, Qingheng-Jun's F- Existence, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Canonical Character Death) This technically happens in the Lan Zhan only part of the Same Moon Shines series

~*~

4. Hope you guys are well!! IITMF Dark Lan Wangji being super protective of Wei WuXian.

Bonus if it's Dark Gusu Lan being protective of our bunny. Please rec only completed fics or the ones that are regularly being updated. 

Thank you ~ @tinyfoxpeach​

A Matter of Time by mrcformoso (E, 44k,  WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation,  Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except  problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng  Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative  NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) link in #14

💖 Hoards and treasures by  apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the   best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and   not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect   happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting)

~*~

5. I’m in the Mood for a Fic where WWX can use LWJ sword maybe LWJ can also use his, it doesn’t have to be the main point of the story. It could just maybe be a little moment in a bigger story would be great as well @zerokogane​

when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, wangxian, canon divergence, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, sharing clothes, sharing a bed, fix-it, golden core transfer) has a few moments where WWX gets to wield Bichen

come home to my heart by occultings (microcomets) (M, 29k, WangXian, Bodyswap, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, First Time, Getting Together, Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Misunderstandings, and a little bit of hurt/comfort as a treat)

❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, AU after cold spring, Political Marriage, Dysfunctional Family, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, LQR bashing (not really), POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Eventual Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, JC is actually a lot better than canon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, YZY bashing (again not completely)) has something like that at one point if i remember correctly 😊

~*~

6. I just want to ask , is there a fiction where wei wuxian dies at xuanwu cave @random-online-reader​

Blood of the Black Earth by wirevix (M, 16k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, canon divergence, major character death, Xuánwǔ of Slaughter Cave, Sunshot Campaign, Sad with a Happy Ending, Ghost WWX, Monster WWX, Canonical Character Death, Although not at the canonical time, Grief/Mourning, Good Sibling JC, WIP)

~*~

7. A friend recommended I put a request. I'm in the mood for something like making out to hide from the bad guys, wangxian, modern or not, doesn't matter, I read Shifting Suspicion by scifigeek14 and loved it

~*~

8. #itmf in the mood for a fic where lan zhan is protective of wei ying in canon verse; but in a more direct way, like someone said something or did something ? and lan zhan is frost chill angered @wutheringskies

~*~

9. I’m in the mood for fic where A) it’s a Wangxian Disney inspired au of sorts anything works or B) Wangxian Detective au @selkie-hi​

9A)

all your life you'll dream of this by Attila (T, 22k, WangXian, Fairy tale, Cinderella Fusion, Pining)

Frog, Beast, Fish, Idiot by Attila (T, 3k, WangXian, Fairy Tale, DumbassesStarring in:, The Frog Prince, Beauty and the Beast, The little mermaid)

9B)

Keep Track of Losing Days by giraffeter (T, 74k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Case Fic, Mystery, Getting Together, Flashbacks, Detective LWJ, antifa WWX, Sharing a Bed, First Kiss, First Meetings, Seattle, Mutual Pining, nonfatal car accident, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers) wwx is missing and lwj is a detective

~*~

10. Hi! I have two requests for itmf. A) Anyone know of any good crow!WWX fics? I’ve had a craving for this recently. B) Also, I want everyone’s favorite modern wangxian fics pretty please! Thank you!

10A)

you by sami (T, 6k, wangxian, modern w magic, shapeshifter au, accidental baby acquisation)

💖 [insert bird pun here] by nienie (T, 7k, wangxian, canon divergence, Animal Transformation, Reincarnation, Thirteen Years of WWX's Death, Crow WWX, Light Angst w Happy Ending, Fluff, Light-Hearted)

❤️ chasing you by jaws_3 (T, 10k, wangxian, shapeshifting, identity porn, pining)

10B)

💖 Pentimento. by orange_crushed (E, 73k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, art conservation, museums, pining, not actually unrequited love, angst w/ happy ending, misunderstandings, smut, major character injury, hospitalization, hurt/comfort, past incarceration, forgery)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, wangxian, modern, slow burn, kid fic, found family, it gets worse before it gets better, PTSD, blood and injury,   dissociation, trauma, angst w happy ending, musicals, alternating pov, JC & WWX reconciliation, hurt/comfort, panic attacks)

together, we’re just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, wangxian, past WWX/OFC, modern, younger LWJ, bartender LWJ, older WWX, rich WWX, fluff, yearning, smut, bottom LWJ, LWJ has scoliosis, slow burn)

With No Particular Affection by Chrononautical (E, 92k, WangXian, Modern AU, Arranged Marriage, Kid Fic, Miscommunication, Family Drama, JFM and YZY’s A+ Parenting, Good Uncle JC, Wedding Fluff, Genius WWX, Street Kid WWX, Homelessness, Rich LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Cinnamon Roll WN, Implied/Referenced Suicide, WWX Has a Pregnancy Kink, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst)

The Right to Care by travelingneuritis (E, 61k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mood Whiplash, musician LWJ, nanny wwx, Developing Relationship, Breakup, Texting, Pining, Eventual Happy Ending, Adoption, Child Abuse, abuse intervention, Miscommunication) 

Waiting for Spring by thievinghippo (E, 130k, WangXian, Modern AU, MLB AU, Baseball AU, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, slight angst, Happy Ending)

Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 107k, WangXian, Modern AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Romance, Persuasion au, Separations, Mutual Pining, Depression,   Miscommunication, Emotional Roller Coaster, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Reconciliation, Eventual Smut, Jane Austen Fusion, Underage Kissing)

He is Wei Wuxian’s by devinokaze (T, 41k, WangXian, Modern AU, Celebrity, actor!wwx, singer!dancer!lwj, Social Media, Entertainment Industry, POV Outsider, Fluff and Humor)

You & Me Baby, We’ll Eclipse The Sun Series by 2501987 (M/E, 130k, WangXian, XiCheng, MIND THE TAGS, Modern AU, Mafia, Murder husbands, Torture, Possessive Behavior, Blood and Violence, Older JC, Younger WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Dark)

INSTAnt Attraction by CaliKayeTylers (T, 41k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, JGY/NHS, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, modern, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Getting Together, Age Difference, Mental Health Issues, Instagram Model)

Lan Zhan's University Days (JAFFY) by sami (T, 10k, wangxian, modern (with cultivation), immortality, University, outsider pov, Wei Wuxian is a chaos gremlin, ridiculous future bullshit, wwx vs Local Culture)

the minor fall, the major lift by Fleetling (T, 5k, wangxian, modern, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Musicians, Canon Divergence, Oblivious WWX, Good Sibling LXC, Supportive LXC)

To See You (Again) by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 84k, wangxian, modern, London au, LWJ fucks, bottom LWJ, friends to lovers, self-discovery, pining, grindr, light bondage, experienced LWJ, less experienced WWX, straight boy WWX) link in #17

Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 90k, WIP, wangxian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)

The Fifth Type of Non-Contact Force by Caixx (Not Rated, 83k, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Fluff and Humor, Actually Somewhat Canon, Mutual Pining, Horny Teenagers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Non-Graphic Smut)

~*~

11. helloooo, hope your day is lovely.

(i guess this would be a itmf) Do you have anything where past and future characters meet. any characters is fine but like hopefully they all meet as a group @twlaei​

A Room Full of Dead People by BurningBlueDiamond (T, 10k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, but not really, canon divergence, Conference in Qinghe but canonically they stay in Gusu, pov outsider)

~*~

12. hello! please, for the next iitmf: song lan/xiao xingchen, preferably modern au, no song lan/xiao xingchen/xue yang, no abo, no mpreg. thank you!

~*~

13. for the next itmf, i was wondering if you have any fics set in novel post-canon before they return to cloud recesses? maybe about their elopement or getting married or just them being happy after finally getting together. thank you for your hard work!

Honeymoon Every Day series by Admiranda, Rynne (E, 103k, WangXian, Established Relationship, Married WangXian, Oral Sex, Snowballing, Hand Jobs, Blindfolds, Dom/sub Undertones, Soft WangXian, Frottage, Clothed Sex, Outdoor Sex, Fluff, Bathtub Sex, Riding, Cockwarming, Hair Washing, Post-Canon, Hair Brushing, Gift Giving, Case Fic, Drunkji, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Pillow Talk, Post-Coital Cuddling, Come Marking, WWX is a Tease, Domestic Fluff, WWX's debatably self-lubing ass, Night Hunting, Grumpy Ghosts, meteor showers, Intercrural Sex, Non-Penetrative Sex, LWJ Has a Biting Kink, Rough Sex, Minor Masochism, Minor Sadism, WWX is a Brat, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Bondage, Forehead Ribbon Bondage, Nightmares, Mild Hurt/Comfort, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Mischievous WWX, Inventor WWX)

~*~

14. For an IITMF, can y'all rec me some LWJ time travel fics? Was thinking about Same Moon Shines series again, and now I'm craving some good LWJ going back in time, whether purposefully or by accident, and loving his Wei Ying properly from the start 🥺

A Matter of Time by mrcformoso (E, 44k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX)

Looking at You Always, All Ways by Keysmashed (T, 29k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nostalgia, Subtly Assertive LWJ, very mild angst, Angst with a Happy Ending)

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, slow burn, getting together, first time, pining, pining while fucking, burial mounds settlement days, angst w happy ending)

Brother-In-Law's by Loveable_Psychopath (M, 324k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, JC/WQ, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, Memories, Butterfly Effect, Sexual assualt, Self Harm, Self Doubt, BAMF JC, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Recovery, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Everyone Lives au, PTSD, good parent YZY, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Canon-Typical Violence, Warning: JGS, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Second Chances, WIP)

Unlikely Trio by YumichanHamano (T, 112k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, time travel, transmigration, Fluff, Attempt at humour, Some Canon Character Deaths, Cloud Recesses study days)

~*~

15. I'm struggling a bit atm so I've come crawling back for another ITMF request. Are there any fics that have rusong in them? Alive? Preferably complete (I know of at least 2 wips that haven't been updated in over a year)? And failing that, any where wwx and/or lwj adopt mo xuanyu? Thank you again for all your hard work and thank you to all the people that share their recs ❤ @theladypeartree​

🧡 Resplendence by FrozenMarVel ( E, 166k, WIP, WangXian, CS Lives, Rouge cultivator WWX, Crossdressing, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of sorts, Fluff, Explicit  smut) link in #17

Lan Xichen's Home For Politically Inconvenient Children by Lysces (T, 65k, LXC & LWJ, LWJ & LSZ, LXC & LSZ, JRS & QS, JGY/QS, JC/WQ, wangxian, JGY & LXC & NMJ, Canon Divergence, Post-Bloodbath of Nightless City, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Intentional Baby Acquisition, LXC pov, Canon Half-Sibling Incest, Minor Character Death, Off-screen torture, Aftermath of Torture, mild medical descriptions, Grief/Mourning, Necromancy, Adoption, good brother LXC)

~*~

16. itmf nmj/lxc centric fics! mentions of relationships with jgy are ok, but pls be endgame nmj/lxc and jgy getting kicked to the curb and/or getting his just desserts. tyvm!

Synced by theherocomplex (T, 23k, LXC/NMJ, scifi au, romance, falling in love, light body horror, character study)

found in translation by sysrae (E, 12k, LXC/NMJ, wangxian, modern cultivation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, not LQR friendly, Meddling brothers, Coming Out, Loss of Virginity, Under-negotiated Kink, slight breathplay, Light Dom/sub, Aftercare, Angst with a Happy Ending)

yeah it's true (that I fell for you) by ThirtySixSaveFiles (E, 7k, LXC/NMJ, modern, Online Dating, conference attendance, Mistaken Identity, Interfering Siblings, Sexting)

~*~

17. hello! for the next itmf, can you guys rec fic: a) wwx and lan qiren being besties, like they're in good terms, or something like lan qiren realizes that wwx is a genius. b) maybe your fav fic/s for this month, any tag/s is okay :)) thank you! @httpskaixx

17A)

💖  Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 663k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

17B)

To See You (Again) by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 84k, wangxian, modern, London au, LWJ fucks, bottom LWJ, friends to lovers, self-discovery, pining, grindr, light bondage, experienced LWJ, less experienced WWX, straight boy WWX)

Hua Xianle by Tiffany_Guinne (Not rated, 170k, hualian, wangxian, not jiang friendly, not YZY friendly, not JC friendly, not JFM friendly, WWX adopted by hualian, no golden core transfer, WIP)

🧡 Resplendence by FrozenMarVel ( E, 166k, WIP, WangXian, CS Lives, Rouge cultivator WWX, Crossdressing, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of sorts, Fluff, Explicit smut)

Ghost of Mine by SasukiMimochi (E, 113k, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, wangxian, Golden Core Reveal, Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Demonic Cultivation, YLLZ WWX, Canon Temporary Character Death, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Romance, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide, Past JYL/JZX, WIP)

The water keeps on flowing by IsilmeLasgalen (E, 114k, wangxian, WKX/ZZS, BSSR/LY, JYL/JZX, MXY/NHS, Cultivation Sect Politics, YLLZ WWX, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, LWJ pov, WWX pov, The mistery of Madam Lan, The Power of Communication, Soft wangxian, The Ghost Path, Yīn Iron, outsider pov, multiple pov, Protective WWX, Morally Gray WWX, Bottom LWJ, Smut, Shameless wangxian, Angst, Fluff, Everyone Lives au)

The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication)

for you, andante by xuanxuanwo (ostentatiouslyrealistic) (T, 35k, WangXian, Modern AU, Music, Musicians, Pianist LWJ, Guitarist WWX, Kid Fic, Coffee Shops, Bookstores, Existential Crisis, Unrelated JGY & QS, Friendship, Romance, Light Angst, Happy Ending)

The Twin Blades of Yunmeng by GhostySword & ofmindelans (T, 82k, JC & WWX, wangxian, JC/NHS, canon divergence, JC & WWX, reconciliation, BAMF JC, protective LWJ, golden core reveal, angst w/ happy ending, slow burn, sect leader QS, WIP)

Hanlong by micratus (E, 282k, WangXian, Modern AU, Case Fic, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, But not only Cloud Recesses, Slow Burn, Oblivious WWX, Drunken Shenanigans, References to Drugs, Canon-Typical Violence, Action & Romance, Eventual Smut, Reincarnation, Humor, This is a translation, Modern with Cultivation)

burning camellias by AvoOwO (M, 284k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Prisoner of War, Genius WWX, Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Violence, Blood and Injury, BAMF WQ, BAMF WWX, BAMF WN, POV WWX, Hurt WWX, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Sentient Burial Mounds, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX Has No Golden Core, Golden Core Destruction | Golden Core Melting, Poisoning, Protective WQ, Medical Torture, Cannibalism, PTSD, Dubious Consent Consent Issues, Heavy Angst, MIND THE TAGS)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[thatfilthyanimal]

tw: stalking, grooming, pedophilia, sexual abuse, past suicidal thoughts

I've recently been made aware that Dupsy is still talking about me and is now going to random Megamind fans that don't know me and telling them to avoid me. I'm also aware that they're doing this in the Ruby Gillman fandom. I have no words to really describe the level of discomfort this brings me, but I will attempt.

First of all, all the "grooming" allegations were thoroughly debunked and proven to be bullshit. I can't believe I have to even say this. I'm a victim of grooming and sexual abuse myself. It's extremely traumatic and life-altering shit, and never something I would want to inflict on someone else. I feel like it should be obvious, with the measures I took in the server to ensure no child is exposed to such things. I was recently diagnosed with PTSD due to the shit that happened to me when I was growing up, and between processing that in therapy sessions and stomaching transitioning in a near-constant hostile-to-trans-people online social media hellscape, I am tired.

I love Megamind, more than anything, and this is known and obvious to anyone who's met me. This movie saved my life when I was extremely suicidal and planning to end my life back in 2010. Watching the movie when I did gave me something to focus on, a distraction, and a responsibility as a fandom member that helped distract me long enough to get out of the planning mindset I was in. Had I not seen the movie, I do not think I would have stuck around. I will leave it at that.

And moderating fandom spaces for Megamind has been lovely! I adore this fandom. The people in it are extremely talented and sweet, and just so damn nice, like by default. I say this all the time but I've never experienced another fandom space quite like it. There are usually bad eggs in fandoms, and perhaps -I- am said "bad egg" to some, but genuinely this one is special. I have always felt that way, even when the bad eggs show up and make a stink. It has always felt worth being here for, to me.

And while I hate to give Dupsy the satisfaction of knowing they hurt me, I need to be honest-- it's been rough. I stopped talking in my server, I locked up on most of my friends and stopped talking even in DMs. I still struggle with severe anxiety in the server and have talked to Dal on various occasions about transferring the server ownership to him. He's been very patient with my freakouts and super understanding, but it's still hard. This WAS a place I felt safe, for over ten years! And now it feels like any minor can just say I'm a groomer or a pedo or whatever with ZERO consequences, just because they're mad, just because these are words that make people go "oh shit" and listen, and man! It's not ok! And this coupled with the fact that trans people are often called groomers just for existing, just… man! I'm tired. I'm so tired.

There are real, severe, damaging effects to these claims being thrown around so casually. It's hurtful to me, as a victim of sexual abuse, because when I came forward to people about what happened when -I- was a minor, I was told I "wanted it" and "asked for it". It was made to be my fault that I was abused, and I internalized it for years. It nearly killed me. I cannot stress enough how important it is to not use claims like pedophilia and grooming so lightly-- these are VERY damning terms to use on people and should be reserved for people ACTUALLY HARMING OTHERS. Being mad I banned you from the server is not "abuse" and using my Customer Service Voice to be nice to you and then being obviously tired of you when you were banned is not "emotional grooming". What the actual fuck. ALSO. This was well over a year ago! Why am I still having to post about this? Why are you still TALKING about me? And yet again I ask, where the HELL are your parents?

Anyway, if you've been wondering why I've been so quiet these days and struggling to socialize… honestly? It's this. I hate that this is what did it. I know people trust and believe me, I know the fandom backs me up regularly and I appreciate them all so much for it. I see it, but I never know how to respond. You guys continue to make this fandom feel safe for me even when my entire brain is screaming to run, and I appreciate you so much for it.

Kids deserve to be trusted when they tell people they've been hurt and I hate that the recent proshipping discourse or whatever you want to call it, this culty all-or-nothing shit, has a bunch of minors growing up feeling like EVERYTHING is something to call rapey or predatory, with apparently little room to distinguish when REAL abuse is happening to them. I don't blame anyone for believing Dupsy, and it's honestly better they DO believe all unproven claims of abuse by default, just to stay safe-- but man, it has consequences that follow people, and really should not be a thing to just throw around because you're mad at someone. I just can't believe they're STILL going around and reaching out to strangers telling them to avoid me… like, what the fuck.

I will be ok, I always am eventually, but I needed to say something, because it's honestly been a while since I've said much of anything.

Keep being kind. <3

[studiogrimm810]

Speak of the Devil

>Caged // Part 5

pairings: (established) sam winchester x gn!reader, destiel is there :D

summary: you are taken by lucifer for over a week and sam damn near looses his head. when you are finally rescued, the trauma of what was inflicted on you has left it's mark and it's up to sam and dean to keep you put together. after reaching out to rowena, all you can do is wait. and all sam can do is hope he can distract you well enough

warnings: torture, ptsd, flashbacks, hallucinations, graphic depictions of said torture, suggested SA

word count: 3,431

A/N: this part has suffered multiple rewrites and edits. you must like this one, this is a threat/j also! if you’d like to be tagged in this series or my one shots, just lmk!! ^.^

read other parts here

———————

Soggy biscuits absorbed with rich, homemade gravy fill up your vision as it is what you’ve been staring at for you’d say felt like the last hour. Sam would say it’s only been 10 minutes. The overwhelmingly intoxicating smell of fresh breakfast made your body beg you for more food, but you could hardly stomach the half of a biscuit you managed to force down in the first place. So now you have just been crushing the other half of the biscuit and mixing it into the gravy, creating almost a paste at this point.

The men around you conversed lightly amongst themselves and you appreciated their commitment to making this moment feel as normal as possible, but your back radiated with itchy heat that screamed you were being perceived.

The red dots still have not left the microwave but you hadn’t really moved much either. After Dean finished making breakfast with the not-so-helpful hand of his beloved clumsy angel, he plated up a generous portion for his baby brother, his loving partner, and a smaller portion for his troubled friend. You smiled and uttered a quiet ‘thanks’ while taking the plate and setting it in front of yourself.

Since then, you’ve really just been picking at your food, and you can feel Sam’s eyes on you but the heat that flashes up your back isn't a result of his presence. No, it was a much more sinister glare, a wicked perception.

“No, it was too much flour,” Dean rolled his eyes at Cas’ previous statement that you didn’t pay attention to.

“But you told me too much heat is what can ruin a good sauce,” Cas tilts his head with the statement.

“Yeah, but so can clumpin’ it up with too much damn flour,” Dean sets down his fork and turns to him as he emphasizes his repeated words.

“Well this time it was perfect, thanks guys,” Sam interrupts with a light chuckle. Dean and Cas must’ve been arguing about the first time Cas tried to help with breakfast, the gravy came out way too thick and still, to this day, the two argue about what really caused the mess up and who’s fault it ultimately was.

You remember this argument well. It started with Cas genuinely not understanding what went wrong in Deans step-by-step instructions of making gravy. When the gravy came out a thick and clumpy mess, Cas deemed it Dean's fault for not mentioning what heat to keep it at and Dean insisted that heat had nothing to do with it but that Cas misread the measurements. A small smile lifts your lips against your own will as you remember how confused Cas was at Dean’s irrational frustration. They weren’t mean to each other, they were both just too stubborn and so set in their own stories that it prompted bickering all this time later. You actually found it quite sweet that this is what their arguments consisted of.

“My brother and his shitty cooking skills.”

You tensed, looking up to see the red dots were gone. You refused to look behind you, where the bored voice came from. You know who it is. You just want him to go away.

“Doesn’t Dean know that angels can’t technically ‘enjoy’ food?” You can hear his voice twisting with his scrunched face. The facial expressions of The Devil are probably the most unsettling thing about his appearance. The contortions of his face never gave way to match what he’s actually thinking but only what he’s saying at the moment.

You ignore him but set down your fork, settling your hands in your lap. You hope that if you can just ignore him long enough that he’ll go away. But what has hope ever really gotten you?

“Someone needs some more time in the kitchen though,” Dean mumbled, half joking. Cas just rolls eyes.

Sam shakes his head with a scoffed laugh and takes a sip of coffee. As he sets it back down, he turns to look over at you, “are you finished?” He asks as if it’s not obvious that you are. You just nod and Sam stands up and gently grabs yours and his plates to take to the sink.

“Thanks guys, food was good,” you give Dean and Cas a half smile of appreciation and they both return the act.

“So when is Rowena going to get here?” Dean asks, wiping off his hands and pushing aside his plate.

“She said she has some business to finish up in Georgia but that she’ll come here right after,” Sam sets the dishes down after properly rinsing off his minimal crumbs and your paste mixture, which oddly enough resembles Cas’ messed up gravy. “She said it would be tomorrow at the latest,” Sam turns to face the group, drying his hands on the dedicated towel hung from the dishwasher.

“Rowena,” Lucifer says in a voice with a sultry emphasis, a smirk painting his lips, “what a treat.”

“Thinking we just take it easy,” Sam looks at you which leads the other two to do the same, your face burning from the intense spotlight. But you only focus on Sam and nod.

“Speakin’ of,” Dean clears his throat, looking at you a bit warrily, “any signs of him?”

You sigh, knowing you have to tell him the truth, but when you look behind you, you see that Lucifer is gone and so is the suffocating air that comes with his presence.

You don’t respond and Dean says something else but you still look around the room for him. So distracted that you don’t even realize that Sam has maneuvered around the counter and back in front of you again.

“Can you hear me?” Sam’s voice pulls your head out of whatever cloud Lucifer left it in and as you sit up you can hear the blood rushing back through your body from a need to escape your awful posture from the last little while. All three of them are watching you. Not four, three, you remind yourself.

Sam’s eyes aren’t panicked or scared but observant with worry and almost guilt. His hand is placed over yours and you can tell that he’s unsettled by this whole ordeal but if he’s experiencing anything beyond inconvenience then he’s doing a hell of a job at hiding it.

Dean is not the same, his eyes are hardened into solid anger that he shoves his fear behind. He looks ready to rip out Lucifer’s lungs and his eyes glaze over the room even though he knows he won’t be able to see anything himself. And another thing- pity is what it was. Dean's eyes are angry but the underlying muscles in his face melt with pity.

And Cas, god, Cas. He’s smiling and it’s not creepy, no, it’s comforting and warm. Simple and a stark reminder that it’s going to be okay. Cas knows that you aren’t okay but he knows you're safe and that’s exactly what his smile reminds you. It’s a smile of acceptance that yes, you’re struggling, but you’re also here in the bunker with your family.

You drag your eyes back over to Sam where he’s still waiting for a response. He assumed you could hear him now, but he gives you a moment to catch up with yourself.

“Yeah,” you utter, looking back down at your hands, “sorry, I think he’s gone now,” you shake off, still a little unsettled at how he just vanished.

“We can use the sigil just in case,” Sam offers but you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you try to assure, hoping to sound more confident in your claim, “he’s really gone, I don’t know why, but he is.”

“Okay, good,” Sam smiles warmly, but you can still see the unease in his eyes. “How about we go watch a movie? Just relax?” Sam offers, hoping to find a way to distract you for a while before Rowena can’t get here.

You nod and Sam leads you back to your shared room after waving off Dean and Cas’ cautiously questioning eyes.

Sam leads you to the bed while he sets up his movie. He stole a few extra cushions from a hall closet to make the bed more ‘couch-like’ as he puts it. He’s currently working finding the perfect spot to place the laptop so your neck doesn’t strain and you can’t help the smile that his excessive thoughtfulness provokes.

Once everything is situated, Sam starts a movie that you made him pick because you didn’t want to deal with the overwhelming amount of choices spread across the streaming services subscribed to in your family unit. He then slides in next to you and pulls you close to him.

Sam really needs this, after the nights of sleeping in an empty bed and wondering if you were even alive, he needs this moment to be as cheesy and wholesome as he could. He thought if he could get Dean to make fun of the sweetness of it then just maybe would Sam have reached cheesy enough.

He can’t help as his hand idly rubs the more comfortable parts of you back, and he’s extra careful as to not let his gauze get too jumbled, making sure to just use his fingers.

This is nice, this really is what you both needed. There were no physical wounds to care for upon your return and in turn, no reminder of just how fresh it all is for you. But this here? Pressed so close into Sam that you wonder how long it will take to become one. It’s the closest thing to stitches and isopropyl you’ll get.

So you enjoy it and you take it for granted. And you ignore the tension that flexes your muscles when Sam gets too close to your neck. And you force the memories that some scenes in this completely innocent movie reminds you of. And you soak up all of the affection that you’ve been missing out on for too damn long.

The low rumble in Sam’s chest when he laughs at a particularly funny scene feels like home and the way he settles back around you after the scene is over feels like security.

The crook of his neck you’ve nestled into and the radiance of his comforting body heat is enough to pull you right into an irresistible sleep.

———

Harsh strikes of lightning, that’s new. He’s never ventured outside of the musky cellar he’s kept you in, why bring you outside now?

Cold iron bars fence the perimeter of a cramped cage suspended in what looks like a storm cloud. This is all new, almost incomprehensible, why show you this? What is this?

Screams, gut wrenching, blood curdling screams erupt from the too-small cage and you instantly recognize them as Sam’s. The rattle of his voice was so distinct, but it wasn’t his angry scream of pain. No, it was almost a whimper, an exhausted string of pure disparity.

Lucifer’s own shouts of mocks and profanity litter the free space of sound not already occupied by sharp lightning or pathetic screams.

You don’t have any control over your perception of the scene before you and you feel like you're on a rollercoaster as you're zoomed all the way in and past the bars of the cage.

Fuck.

Is that Sam?

His hair is a matted and sticky mess of blood, making it look like dye, and syrupy strands fall in front of his face, leaving only his gaping mouth visible. He’s completely bare, his skin exposed, scarred and stained. He’s weak and thin, eerily thin.

His hands are strung on hooks, like if Jesus was crucified through his wrists, and you see that the scruff of his neck is pulled back by a third hook. Just like Lucifer did to you.

Where the fuck is your earthly body? Because you need to vomit all 2 ounces of breakfast that hasn’t really settled in your stomach anyways.

You try to look around or to move or, fuck, just close your eyes, but you can’t.

A set of giggles would make a chill run up your back if you had yours right now.

“Our time really did get cut short, doll,” Lucifer coos, his voice an echo in this weird dimension and not coming from any corner in particular.

You can’t speak because you don’t have a mouth.

“Just imagine the fun I could’ve had,” Lucifer hums, his voice still distant but you can hear the movements of his mouth. It’s disgusting.

Sam’s back arches forward with a sharp gasp strangling his throat as a bloody hand punches through his chest. Crunching bones and soppy skin ripping through your own non-existent ears. A shimmering heart, coated in blood, is gripped in a tight hold of the arm that ripped out of Sam’s rib cage. The arm is yanked back out and out comes The Devil himself, a livid scowl on his lips as he squeezes the life out of Sam’s heart and splatters it on the iron floors.

“Think of what I could’ve done to you,” he sneers, “that body, those screams, your heart,” he spits, mouth practically foaming with rage. The drips of blood on the tips of his fingers land on the ground with sharp snaps, leading a trail and you now realize he’s walking closer to you.

You.

Actually you, fuck. Your body is back and The Devil is grinning ear to ear.

“Let’s find out,” he purrs, lifting his blood soaked hand and running it along your jaw, leaving a sticky path of pungent blood, only amplifying the rotting iron stench in this cage.

And with your body returns your fear, and your nausea, and your chills.

Lucifer grips your throat with his bloody hand, lifting you off your feet and you’ve realized Sam’s body is gone. He keeps his grip sturdy on your throat and even though you can’t breathe, you aren’t feeling faint. He’s preventing you from passing out.

Lucifer drags you over to the hooks where Sam was and he pinches the back of your neck to string you up like a carcass.

His hand traces from your neck and down to your shoulder, shoving hard. He shakes your shoulders and his face melts with annoyance when suddenly you’re ripped off the hook like a blown piercing and you’re-.

“Wake up, you’re okay,” Sam’s voice floats on you like a stern warning, like he’s unsure his words will actually mean something. The urgency in his voice is something you don’t miss.

Your eyes shoot open and you swallow a gulp of air, clawing at your throat to make sure his hands are gone. And you feel your face to make sure the blood is gone too. Sam’s hands are clasped on your shoulders like he had to shake you awake. Oh. You look up at him with quick breaths and a panicked expression, letting what the fuck you just saw catch up to you.

“It was just a dream, you’re okay,” Sam loosens his hold on your shoulders and you slump down into the bed a bit. You can’t find yourself too look at him, the image of cage-him being so vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before burns the backs of your eyelids.

Sam was your person, the man you love and have chosen to spend your life with. And yes, you’ve seen him in many different ways, you’ve seen him more than anyone else has- well at least you thought.

“Hey,” he coos. God, it’s sweet and loving, but it’s in the same way Lucifer just mocked you. Sam gently grabs your jaw, kind and soft, but fuck Lucifer just did the same with Sam’s blood leaving it’s stain. You flinch away, pressing into the headboard and groaning. You feel absolutely sick. “Okay, okay,” he speeds out, not expecting the reaction but adjusting quickly. “Do you want some water?”

You ignore him, bolting from your spot and dashing into the bathroom. Slamming the door behind you, you fall to your knees and involuntarily rid your body of nutrients it desperately needs. There’s rustling around you but you don’t waste time placing it.

What did Lucifer do to Sam? He never talked about it beyond a simple explanation of he was dead for a few months and suffered hallucinations after getting his soul back. Sam was never openly prepared to share his past with you, but when he did he was honest and delicate. It’s just that… this was never something you even expected for him to share. And the implications that came with what Lucifer said. It makes you lurch again, this time spewing nothing but splatters of stomach acid that burns your throat.

“Let it out, honey,” Sam sets a glass down on the ceramic counter of the bathroom and he sinks down to your level with some paper towels.

You take your time, arms wrapped around the toilet bowl. You reach for the glass, rinsing out your mouth and flushing the water away. Settling into the wall next to the toilet, you still don’t look at Sam’s face.

“Feel any better?” Sam asks, dipping down his gaze to hopefully pull yours to him. It doesn’t work.

“Uh,” you clear your throat, settling your elbows on your knees, “No, not really.”

“What happened?” He asks carefully, honestly a little afraid of what you might say.

You swallow the tickle of nausea and flick your eyes daringly to Sam’s, the image of dark red mats of hair sticking to his cheeks. You force your eyes closed and take a steady breath.

“He was there,” you settle on saying, your words surprisingly still as you spoke them.

“In your dream?” Sam inquires, confusion bending his brows.

“Yeah.”

“Was it him him or a memory?” Sam asks, already finding a prime spot to paint a sigil if need be.

Oh, it was a memory alright, just not yours. “It was him,” you nod, eyes unfocused. You grab your wrists, rubbing them to remind yourself that cool iron no longer latches onto your skin but only your own grasp. “He’s gone now, I- I don’t see him.” You decide to keep seeing Sam like that to yourself.

“I hate this,” you admit with a scoff, landing your head into the wall behind you with more force than you meant to but you ignore the wave of pain.

“I know, honey,” Sam says solemnly, wishing he could do more for you, “once Rowena gets here, we’ll have more answers. More solutions.”

But with waiting comes uncertainties and fears of what if she can’t help at all?

“We’ll fix this, I’ll fix this,” Sam promises, holding your hands firmly. You open your eyes, finally looking over at Sam who has no doubt in his mind that you will be okay.

With some subtle coaxing, Sam finally gets you off of the cold floor and brings you back to the bed. You don’t feel safe sleeping and Sam can understand this, and without The Devil present, a sigil won’t work on kicking him in a corner for a few hours. So for now, Sam sits with you and pulls out a deck of cards.

“Blackjack,” Sam straightens his posture and you get an assaulting flash of the spread of his arms past their resilience, latched on hooks. You advert your gaze to the cards instead. He settles the blankets into a makeshift table and deals, “go.”

You chuckle a small laugh which spreads to Sam’s lips as you peek at the hidden card, “uh, hit me,” you shrug. He flips a card and you add it up to 17. “Hit me,” Sam flips down another card and you hiss.

A small smirk and he takes the cards away, starting a new round.

Round after round, wins and loses, flashes and waves of nausea. But you power through for Sam. You hold yourself as tightly wound as you could and you forced yourself to shove away the weeks of torture so that you can have just now.

You keep your senses keen for Lucifer’s return, not wanting to let your guard down for even a second because the bastard really stepped up his game by showing you Sam like that against his will.

Maybe it’s somewhat of a good thing, though, because now you feel nothing but pure hatred. And as you do the simple math of the ‘distracting’ game supplied by your love, you think of every way possible to make Lucifer fucking pay.

———————

thanks so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

>tags: @internallysalad @checkedoutghost

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 10

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: The Enemy Of My Enemy

Notes: Considering I'm near done with proofreading, I can give ya'll another chapter.

Warnings: Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter:  10/ It’s a secret.

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You did not see the Monk again until hours later, and when he did walk into the tent you were huddled up into the corner of it.

When he offered you a bowl of soup, you refused to even acknowledge it.

With visible uncertainty he put the bowl on the ground and came closer, reaching down for your hands.

You recoiled, furious that him bringing you here had led to the Reaper finding you.

The feeling from earlier still ran through you, that powerlessness when they had dragged you to your worst nightmare…

And here was the person who had damned you to this fate.

You were on your feet instantly and approached him.

“You did this to me…” You gritted out through your teeth, despair blended with rage. “How could you?!”

It was the second time today that someone had asked him the question with such level of disgust and disappointment in their expression.

The spitting fire in your eyes warned him of what was to come.

And still, he caught himself to be reluctant to stop it.

His reflexes were slower, the first hit you gave landed to his jaw. The others he prevented by grabbing hold of your bound wrists.

Too angry to stop, you tried to set your teeth in his hands.

He was quicker and turned you forcefully, an arm across your arms and chest to keep them from moving, it put him into a safer position.

Even then, you jerked your head back and tried to knock it into his face.

The Monk must have known that the fury made you far more dangerous, he was able to avoid it from happening.

“Stop.” He warned.

He could not manage to sound threatening.

You struggled against his hold, the worst he could do was hurt you, it could never be worse than ending up in the Reaper’s hands.

The struggle got worse. If he took no control, this would get ugly.

Whatever action he had made to get the upper-hand, it worked and got you to your knees, but not without forcing him to his own as well.

He gave one firm pull and blocked your range of motion severely when bringing you completely against his chest.

He locked both of his arms around you like a chain.

Frustration set into you when your fury saw no way of release.

The struggle lasted for a moment longer, until the closeness of the Monk became overbearing.

“Let go off me!” You snarled.

“Once you are calmer.” He told, too close to the back of your neck.

Did he think this was helping?!?

You snapped at him, “I’ll be calmer once your filthy hands are off of me!”

He actually sighed.

You made another attempt to break free.

He prevented it. “If Father knew of this, he would send you to Brother Salt.”

You believed it to be a bluff. “I thought I was needed.”

His words came slow, like he wanted you to fully understand the consequences you could face, “Brother Salt knows many methods to cause pain, even ways that do not cause lasting suffering. Avoid them.”

After taking some deep calming breaths, you asked him, “Why is it, that you have never hit me?”

He went quiet…

Countless times he had been struck into obedience, a grave dislike for it had grown inside of him overtime. It was not the pain that bothered him much, it was the humiliation it brought.

The answer came. “I can restrain you without it.”

It was no lie…

He held on for a little while, whilst you tried to compose yourself.

Then he released you and stood up from the ground, less worried that another attack would come.

He kept some of his fingertips on your shoulder, perhaps to make sure he could respond in time if you made a sudden move.

Still, you smacked his hand away upon feeling it.

The Monk stood still and silent for what felt like minutes.

Your shoulders slumped forward a bit when the defeated feeling came down on you. Feeling the fight leave you little by little every day was destroying your spirit.

Your eyes pressed shut in disappointment.

Slowly he knelt down in front of you, his eyes searching to see the wound inflicted on your hand.

He sounded quiet and remorseful, “I did not know.”

There was a smudge of blood staining your jaw, he should have brought something to wash the blood off.

The never ending threats on your life were pushing you to the edge. “The Reaper has seen my face, he won’t rest until he has me.”

Was that how the Fey called Soran?

“The reaper?” He questioned.

Was he that oblivious?

You snapped at him. “Soran, the Reaper, is the leader of the Brotherhood. The Manbloods who hunt the Dawn Folk! Him and his predecessor are responsible for the erasure of my clan! And now he’s here to take me too!”

He hoped his words would be a comfort. “Father refused to give you to him. We need you.”

You hated to hear him say it. “I am being pulled between evil.”

The Monk foolishly tried to deny it, “We are not evil-”

No. You would not let him deny it any longer.

You all but shouted at him, “You may not burn the children, but your God expects it off you! You serve evil! You bring evil! The Fey who beg for mercy are struck down by the sword before they can even finish their plea!”

He had not expected the rage flying from your mouth.

You snapped your eyes away and caught a glimpse of the tearing in his sleeve where steel must have cut through them.

This time your curiosity did not win, you wanted him to leave you alone.

The Monk was quiet for a moment, then made the polite request, “May I see your hand?”

It struck you as odd that he wasn’t commanding you to show your hand, and actually asked.

That quietness in his voice… it had been like this since he walked in. Was something the matter? No…

No. You could not afford to be concerned for someone who willingly kept you into this hell.

To answer, you brought your hands in close to your chest.

He still tried to reach for it.

It came out viciously, “Don’t you touch me!”

He withdrew his hand fast, as if a cat had lashed out at him.

All he had heard these past few days was others lashing out at him. For his failures, for his actions, all of it.

He understood the response and remained silent.

You bitterly told him what you believed to be happening, “The Reaper and the Weeping Monk working together… how could you?”

He denied it right away. “I am not working with him.”

You pressed him with his nose on the facts. “You serve the same god.”

Another silence went and passed between you.

The Monk stood up, picked a dagger from his belt and used it to cut a piece from his cloak.

The piece was dropped down right into your lap by him.

A small advice came along with it, “Bind it over the cut. Do not let dirt get into it.” When you said nothing, he made another attempt to lighten the mood, “I will bring you something to eat when I return.”

In silence you picked up the piece of fabric and tried to wrap it around your hand. There was only one problem, your wrists being bound made the task ridiculously difficult.

You would not have said a word of it to him, but it must have dawned on him right that second.

He sounded far more uncertain now. “Let me…”

“No.” If that cut was what killed you, so be it.

The Monk gave up on trying to ensure that you did not grow an infection that could be deadly.

The question slipped from your thoughts, “What did he offer, in exchange for me?”

He took a few steps away from you. “A good word to the Holy Father and Abbot Wicklow. Father will not trade you just for words, you will remain with us until Soran proofs that his support will help the mission.”

Your tone grew colder when sensing he was withholding the truth, “What else?”

He had hoped you would not press on. “He vowed to capture and bring us three other Dawn Folk in exchange for you.”

“Like hell he will!” You snarled.

The reaction piqued his curiosity. “Those others, they are your family, are they not?”

The look in your eyes certainly gave it away. “It makes no difference to you anyway.”

He did not respond to the claim and stood there quietly for a moment longer, then turned and walked to the exit of the tent.

“Wait!” You called out and saw him turn to face you somewhat, “Did he say whether or not he knew where to find them?”

With a shallow nod, he confirmed it. “He did. But I believe he was lying.”

You kept eye-contact to see if the Monk was lying, but found no hint of it.

The persisting silence all but made him flee out of that tent. He did not like it, to have another pair of disappointed eyes on him, even though this time he felt like he deserved it.

The Monk walked out, leaving you alone in the guarded tent to return to his work.

Not long after, just before the evening, paladins came to collect you to heal just one of them in the infirmary. One stupid blister on a paladin’s foot, that’s why they brought you there.

At least it did not take long and on the short walk back you saw something shine a bit on the ground. Metal?

It was worth seeing if it could be useful.

You stumbled and fell to your knees on purpose, landing just where the shiny object was, quickly you picked it up and closed your hands around it to hide it.

The paladins pulled you up to your feet again, mumbling something you could not hear well.

It felt sharp against your palm, a good sign.

They dropped you off at the tent again and left, the sun had begun to set.

You opened your hand and saw that the metal object was an arrowhead.

It would take a few minutes to get through the rope, newfound hope settled inside of you.

You got to work right away, it was far from easy and you dropped the thing more times than one could count.

Halfway through the task, a voice coming from outside made you halt.

Someone was cussing up a storm, a boy… Squirrel.

~“Brother Salt will make sure he’ll never open that foul mouth again.”~

The paladins were laughing at the horrors that awaited the boy.

You were on your feet now, a flash of panic fueling you.

No, no, no… not him.

At this point you were cutting so fast that you nicked your skin, it did not matter, you needed to get out of those ropes. It was no longer about your survival, you needed to save Squirrel even if it cost you your own life.

The last string of rope snapped open and fell to the ground when you pulled your wrists apart with force.

Brother Salt’s kitchens were at the other side of this camp, yet they had taken Squirrel in the other direction.

You needed to get rid of the paladins guarding the tent outside to stand a chance to escape.

Often one of them at the entrance would be gone for a short amount of time, either to get a drink or when nature called.

This time you waited at the entrance for that time to come, the long piece of fabric that the Monk had cut from his cloak was ready in your hands.

Every minute you waited was a minute too long and you grew impatient.

Finally, you heard one say something to the other and he walked away.

With quiet steps you got closer and opened the entrance to peek through it.

The paladin stood with his back to it, and you waited until those other paladins in sight had passed by.

You wasted no time to catch the fabric around his neck like a noose and used all your strength to pull him inside the tent. This was life or death for Squirrel and you wouldn’t hold back on strangling a red drape to save a child.

The paladin tried to break free and you tightened the noose, the blows he delivered to your arms would certainly leave bruises behind. He scratched at your throat and drew blood, you felt him weaken and held on.

When he finally fell to the ground, you only let go off the noose when he no longer breathed.

His red brother would return soon and find him missing.

You would help him on his search. A deep cut to the paladin’s hand was enough to soak the piece of cloak in blood.

By squeezing it out just outside the entrance and making a trail his search would be much easier.

You tossed the bloodied cloth on top of the dead paladin and resumed your wait.

The other returned and as assumed found his red brother missing, it took him a few seconds to spot the blood drops on the grass. They led him into the tent, of course he was shocked to find his red brother dead on the ground. He was only a few steps into the tent after unknowingly having walked past you hiding at the entrance.

You took no risks, sneaked up on him and cut his throat with the arrowhead.

The tent was a mess, the wool was soaked in the blood.

There was no way back now, you doubted they would forgive you for butchering two of their comrades.

You stole the sword from one of them and got out of the tent when the coast was clear.

Finding the tent where they kept Squirrel in was not hard, the boy was still cursing his lungs out, staying out of the sight of paladins was another thing. Just like there had been paladins guarding your tent, there were a few guarding the one where Squirrel was.

The tent was near a hitching post where horses stood, seemingly bored by it all.

You went towards it and hid behind a barrel filled wagon. The first thing you did was loosen the reins from the hitching post. You could scare the horses yourself, but they had done you no wrong. It was rare for you to call upon the Hidden for help, but a Fey child was in danger and time was of the essence.

You closed your eyes and prayed they would listen, “Help me save Squirrel. Let me be your weapon…”

Your markings lifted to the surface of your skin and you could feel your eyes change to the green.

The Hidden could sense your intention and heard your plea, their whispers traveled from your ears to the horses.

Your eyes returned to normal and locked on those of a horse.

Now…

The horses became restless and stormed off, knocking over everything and everyone in their sights.

The paladins who had been guarding the tent were quick to give chase.

You used the chaos to quickly make your way over towards the tent and found Squirrel tied with his hands to one of the wooden poles in the midst of it.

“Y/n?!?” The surprise was written all over his face.

You held a finger to your lips and hushed him. “Shhh…”

You hurried to him and carefully cut him free from the ropes. The second his hands were free, he threw his arms around you in an embrace.

Squirrel could not believe that you were here and alive. “I thought they had killed you!”

You quickly looked over his face and hated to see how his eye was blackening already. “No. They are forcing me to heal them, it doesn’t matter now.”

Squirrel spoke ridiculously fast, “They caught the Green Knight! I was trying to save him but they found me and he could not walk anymore.”

The news seemed to greatly sadden the boy, understandably so. The Green Knight was a knight of the Fey, one of the only few left and now he was lost to the hands of the paladins.

You took hold of his hand. “We have to escape this place, Squirrel. Now.”

Surprisingly, he let you pull him along and out of the tent.

A horse would come in handy now, but they had taken some of them to chase the others.

It took some careful searching around the place to find an available one.

Squirrel was the one to point one out.

A black steed. You sighed, knowing exactly who’s horse that was.

It had not let you mount it before and you doubted the steed would allow it now.

“Not that one. He doesn’t like me.” You whispered.

Squirrel send you an odd look, like you were insane.

While sneaking through the camp and avoiding all red, you failed to avoid those in black robes.

Three Trinity Guards had spotted you and you moved Squirrel to stand behind you.

It could not have been more obvious to them that neither one of you belonged there.

“Run.” You urged the boy and gave him a nudge.

It took a second nudge from you before he even took one step away.

A guard spoke the command you already anticipated, “Seize her!”

You weren’t going to just let them and used the stolen sword in your hands to try and hold them off. “Run, Squirrel!”

They were brutal, as their reputation said they were. When you blocked the sword of one of them, another lunged and punched you in the jaw.

Brave young Squirrel did not hold back and launched himself into the fight, trying to hold back their arms as they fought you.

A guard grabbed him and got the boy to the ground and under control.

It only made you more vicious, your sword cut through the hood of one, sending the golden mask flying to the ground.

With a hard kick to your stomach, the other send you falling backwards and to the ground.

The kick had knocked the air out of you, and you saw Squirrel being handed over to the paladins again. “No! Squirrel!”

You wanted to get up but received a boot to your back.

A slash at the guards leg was the last thing your sword had to offer before they ripped it from your hand.

They twisted your arm on purpose when pulling you up from the ground.

Those damned bastards dragged you along and not a minute later presented you to Father Carden.

The Abbot was present and their conversation was interrupted by this.

Abbot Wicklow looked at you as if you were a strange curiosity. “Is the girl Soran spoke off? The Dawn Folk Fey?”

The priest confirmed it. “It is.”

To make matters worse, a panicking Paladin ran over and loudly exclaimed, “Father! Father! Two of our brothers were found dead in the tent of the Fey girl!”

The priest looked like he wanted to strike down the paladin for saying this while the Abbot was next to him.

Father Carden had no choice but to have you punished for this, the Abbot had already seen his Weeping Monk defy him publicly. Being lenient towards the enemy would not be wise now.

The priest began his judgment, “Brother Salt will see the boy after he is done with the Green Knight. She-”

The Abbot oh so kindly offered, “Perhaps the Trinity Guard can cleanse her of these violent tendencies with the whip? Forty lashes will suffice, I believe.”

Forty?!?

Father Carden agreed to the sentence and allowed two of the Trinity Guard to take you away. One of them took over a rope that a paladin offered and took it along.

They took you to another tent, the tallest collected a whip that was placed on what looked to be an alter of sorts, a cross was placed on the middle of it.

The other gave the order, “Face the cross and bare your back.”

You did not know how to respond, but you could sense that they would not take ‘no’ for an answer and ‘help’ you out of your clothes if needed be.

Your hesitation took too long for their liking and the one without the whip came to you, sword in hand.

You hated how you backed away from him, their reputation was known among the Fey. “I’ll do it!”

He barked the command, “Turn to the cross!”

Part of you was grateful for it, because your eyes were getting watery. If you obeyed and lived through this, if the Hidden had mercy on you, you could still try to save Squirrel.

You forced your hands to stop trembling when taking of your vest and letting it drop close to your feet. The bodice was next and you paused when it was the shirt’s turn, it was where your courage left you.

By praying quietly to the Hidden to give you strength you tried to calm yourself down, you did not want them to see you cry or pray.

You hugged the shirt to your chest after you took it off, and they ordered you to kneel down.

The cold air went over the skin off your bare back without mercy.

This was humiliating. You took solace in the knowledge that all they intended to do was punish you with the whip.

You drew in deep breaths, an attempt to try and prepare for the pain.

With the first strike of the leather on your back, you knew it was a futile attempt.

Within seconds, blood trailed it’s way down your back and your eyes stung with tears from the pain.

The second lash of the whip cut through your skin and you pressed your lips shut to stop the quiet scream that threatened to sound.

Just breath… just breath…

You shut your eyes, only two of forty and they did not hold back on using their strength to do this.

Sadists. Just as the Fey had always described them.

The Trinity Guard got the whip ready for the next lash, they were ignoring your silent prayers that fell to deaf ears.

You clutched the shirt to your chest.

Weak, exposed, humiliated…

And all you could think of was Squirrel on his way to be tortured by Brother Salt.

He had to be saved…

The third lash struck the air out of your lungs, your grip on the shirt was near painful.

You could hear him pull the whip back towards himself and prepared yourself for the next lash.

“Who-” One of them began to speak.

You heard a strange noise and the other cursed, it made you look over your shoulder.

The one without the whip was on his knees, trying to stop the heavy flow of blood from pouring out of his throat, it was a gruesome sight.

If you had blinked, you would have missed the Monk sinking the short sword into the other’s neck and pull it out again.

What was happening?!?

A freed Squirrel was about to run over to you but the Monk caught him by the back of his vest before he could.

The state you were in now… this was not how you wanted the boy to see you. Or the Monk for that matter.

He told Squirrel, “Wait here.” And came over to you.

You locked your eyes on his face. “Don’t!”

The Monk halted and kept his eyes on the ground. “Put your clothes back on.”

It didn’t need to be said to you.

You felt your face burn and that embarrassment shone through in your tone, “I will. Turn around! Both of you.”

The poor boy was looking at all the blood running down your back and the Monk turned him around by the vest and held on.

Putting your clothes on over those bleeding cuts was anything but painless. Your back burned from them.

Why was the Monk here?

Why was Squirrel with him?

Why had he killed the Trinity Guards???

Once you were done getting dressed in a hurry you walked over to Squirrel to pull him out of the Monk’s grasp, and you fired your questions, “Why are you here? What is the meaning of this?”

The Monk replied in a hushed voice, “The boy refused to leave without you.”

The child had threatened to shout his lungs out and make it known to everyone that he had killed Brother Salt to free him, if he did not free you as well.

It did not sound like a terrible idea to free you in order to ensure the boy could get to safety.

And now that he had seen what was being done to you…

He would not watch another suffer the path he had suffered.

You were staring at this enigma of a man.

He noticed how you were trying to keep the boy from being anywhere near him. “Remain quiet and I will lead you out of the camp. Not a word, not a sound! Follow me.”

You did not trust him, but you wanted Squirrel away from this place swarming with enemies.

When the Monk stepped outside, you looked down at Squirrel.

“He freed me… cut a paladin’s throat for it.” The boy seemed as baffled as you were now.

He. Did. What?!?

You had no chance to ask something, the Monk’s hand shot into the tent again and fished out Squirrel’s arm.

Quickly you rushed out after them and kept up with the Monk’s fast walking pace.

By the looks of it, he was marching right to the black steed.

He suddenly stopped and you nearly bumped into Squirrel.

First you looked at the Monk, then at what had stopped him dead in his tracks.

The Abbot stood there with a group of Trinity Guards, as if he always expected this to occur.

The Monk looked at you from the corner of his eyes, like he hoped you would not notice how he was keeping track of your exact location on the spot.

Abbot Wicklow saw the look in the Monk’s eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

It had been his intention to let go off the boy and let him run. But the Abbot made it no secret that it would mean certain death for the child.

He drew Squirrel back in closer and faced the Abbot.

Wicklow stepped closer. “Does he remind you off someone? This… Fey orphan?

The Monk moved Squirrel behind him. “You don’t need him.”

Not like they needed and chose him all those years ago.

Not this boy, not another child, no more.

The Abbot looked at the three of you as if you were the dirt beneath his boots, “Why? Can’t he smell out his own kind like some kind of animal?” Then he let it be known that he knew exactly what the Monk was. “Or is that just your species?”

You could feel the tension rise between them, this felt like a personal matter you and Squirrel were trapped between. You took a small step closer and formed a barrier between Squirrel and that infuriating disgusted look the Abbot was sending.

The Abbot put his attention on your presence. “Can he heal others, as she can?”

The child nor you should ever end up in the hands of the Abbot and the Trinity Guard. The suffering would be endless and cruel.

The Monk had his hand on the pommel of his sword and turned to you, pushing the boy into your hands. “Find cover.”

Your eyes locked on his, something in them had changed. The presence of fear in his reflected in your own.

You did not need to be told twice to get out of there and ran off with the Squirrel for cover.

Stuck in the middle of an enemy camp with armed paladins and not a weapon on you.

And the Monk faced a group of Trinity Guards ready to fight.

The Abbot offered a chance for the Monk to come to his senses, “You do have a reputation, but this is the Trinity Guard. You know their skill.”

You believed the Monk signed his own death sentence when he drew both his swords and accepted to fight instead of surrender.

It visibly annoyed the Abbot as well. “So be it.”

You were trying to think of a way to escape this hell when the fight commenced.

Never had you seen anyone fight like the Monk, the way he turned in the air…

He landed and made quick work of the first two, blood rained down upon the grass around them.

Six of them.

Six Trinity Guards fell to the sword of the Grey Monk, and not a single one of theirs had touched him.

For a brief moment in time, it made you forget the situation you were in.

By the heaven’s this man could fight.

Dammit…

You tried to keep your voice hushed, “Squirrel, we need to get to the horses!”

The boy did not let you pull him along, “What about him?”

When you turned back to look, the Monk was being challenged by the six remaining Trinity Guards.

These guards were smarter than the previous ones, flails were used to disarm the Monk of his swords, he was struck by one on his back.

They remained at a distance, like cowards, while beating him with the flails.

Even when they got him to his knees, they did not stop and aimed for his face.

Once across the jaw and the last strike of a flail hit him from below the chin at a force strong enough to break someone’s skull and neck.

The whispers of the Hidden rang in your ears, they fumed with anger at what was being done to one of their kind by the Church again.

Dammit…

You should not be getting involved, you could finally flee.

Just grab the boy and flee… just…

Dammit.

“Stay here. Stay hidden.” You hoped he would stay behind these barrels.

They kicked the Monk in his back again as you looked around for fallen weapons.

You ran over to the nearest sword you could find, you were not unskilled with the sword, but they were Trinity Guards.

If the Hidden insisted on the Monk’s survival, there must be a reason, you hoped there was. A moment of distraction was what you could offer and you attacked the nearest Trinity Guard.

“Seize her!” The Abbot commanded, knowing that a Fey with your ability was truly valuable to the Church.

The Trinity Guard had to block the blade of your sword with his arm and countered your attack.

With a kick to his stomach you send him stumbling backwards and another came to his aid.

A flail wrapped it’s chain around your sword and snatched it from your hand.

“Shit!” You cursed aloud.

The Trinity Guard you had attacked swung at you and you were just too late to avoid the blow completely, his fist still impacted with the side of your head and send you to the ground.

Squirrel hit the head of the Trinity Guard, who was about to give the death blow to the Monk, with a rock.

Then the boy ran over and picked up a fallen sword too, “Who’s first?”

It nearly gave you a heart attack to hear Squirrel challenging them with the sword.

Who would have thought that the sight of the boy risking his life, was enough for the Monk to find the will to fight again?

The Monk grabbed a sword from the ground and cut through two of the Trinity Guards by the time he was fully on his feet again. He blocked the attack of another and sank his sword into their back, then pushed the guard into two others to keep them at a distance.

With the strength in his attacks, the sword sliced through the golden mask of another and blood spilled through it. His sword returned and cut through the abdomens of the other two. One threatened to get up and was speared to the ground with the sword. Another that made an attempt got his neck snapped by the Monk.

It all happened so fast, by the time you were back on your feet, most of the Trinity Guard were either dead or bleeding out on the ground.

“Gods…” You muttered in shock and even secret awe.

The arrogant twat picked up his own sword and raised it, publicly challenging to fight the Abbot too. It was a miracle he was even on his feet but the second this man had a taste of battle…

Abbot Wicklow did not accept the challenge and fled the place in a haste.

It felt like the Monk found some joy in seeing the coward flee after this.

You saw the Monk sink to his knees, the sword fell from his hand.

He could barely keep himself up on his knees anymore, the injuries he had sustained would have easily killed anyone who did not wear such padded clothing to take most of the impact.

Squirrel was the first to run over to him and grabbed hold of his arm, “Come on, we have to go!” The Monk was visibly drowsy, “Come on! Get up!”

You went over to help and wasted no time to grab the other arm to put it over your shoulder to support his weight, he grabbed his sword up off the ground and clumsily got it in it’s sheath.

The rain made the ground slippery and it was not simple to keep your footing.

“To the horses!” You said, ignoring how odd it was that the Monk just let you drag him away for once.

Of course the Monk steered the two of you a little, first to the short sword he wanted back, then right towards the black steed who didn’t like you very much.

You felt your hands get covered in his blood, “Can you mount?”

He did exactly that, then reached a hand down and offered to let the boy ride with him, “Come on.”

The offer was made to you in silence as well but you did not feel comfortable with that idea.

So you took a sword from the ground again and stole your own horse, quietly disliking how quick Squirrel was to trust the Weeping Monk.

You rode next to them as he leaded you out of that camp, but you never took your eyes off of him nor Squirrel.

Just because he had betrayed the Church, did not mean that he would not betray you.

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[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes- Chapter 10

Note: Sorry for the wait. This is probably the longest chapter I've written so far. And the next chapter is a bit bigger. More Daryl, Kismet, and Pheonyx interactions. Thank you to @garlic-the-gnome and @loganlostitall for reading my drafts and giving me advice and corrections. I'm super grateful for it. Also, don't be like Daryl. If you think someone is trans and want to ask, don't. If you have to, ask their pronouns. If a trans person wants to reveal themself as trans to you, they will. By asking, you're putting them in a shitty spot. Not only does it imply they don't pass if you have to ask, but some people just don't want to talk about it. Daryl isn't verse in this stuff though. Pheonyx can forgive him for that.

Banners by: @liminal-creations

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics & @omiyours

Chapter CW/TW: talk of drug-addict/abusive/neglectful parents, shitty childhoods in general, denial of sexuality, anxiety, PTSD, hate crime mentions

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The damn mutt wasn’t as stupid as he looked earlier. As soon as Pheonyx had him sniff Sophia’s shirt and gave him the command, the dog shot off after the little girl’s trail. Originally, Daryl had been skeptical of the pup’s skill. The only word that he could think of to describe Kismet was goofy. His muscled body was all limbs and he crashed through the underbrush and bushes with no regard for noise or tact. It was hard to believe that this dog would be trained to do more than drool and sniff his own butt. The hunting dogs that lived in his trailer park growing up were more refined. They could be noisy, especially once they treed a coon or squirrel, but when they were working in the woods, they were damn near soundless. Still dubious about the dog, he had stopped them a few hundred yards behind  the area where he and Rick had first started tracking Sophia. He wanted to see if Kismet would follow the same path they had when she first got lost. And he did. The dog held his nose to the ground and started following the area they had walked through 2 days ago. Pheonyx watched the dog with a proud look on his face before turning to Daryl and motioning towards the direction Kismet was going. 

“After you, Apollo.”

An abrupt snort left his nose. Apollo. The Greek god of archery. Of all the nicknames he’d ever been called that was probably the nicest by far. It was much preferred to Merle’s nickname for him, “Darlena.” Merle mostly did it to annoy him. But it was also a jab at his manhood. Mostly due to the fact that he didn’t pant after women like some kind of sex fiend but partially because he had a streak of kindness in him that Merle always lacked. Most people didn’t know, it wasn’t something the brothers talked about much, that Merle was Daryl’s half brother. His momma was one of the many junkies that their father went on benders with. Merle spent the first 5 years of his life being shuffled by social workers back and forth between his momma and their Pa. Each of them going through cycles of getting clean and then relapsing shortly after. They didn’t get clean for their son though. It was simply for the welfare check and food stamps that came along with having custody of a child. Right before his 6th birthday, Merle watched his momma OD. He was locked in the tiny apartment with her body for 2 days before the neighbors were able to get the cops to investigate the constant screaming of a child. From there, his brother lived solely with his father. Their Pa got better at playing a sober, loving father and Merle got better at hiding the bruises and lashes. Eventually, social services left them alone. It was just the two of them until Will Dixon married Daryl’s momma in one of his brief moments of sobriety. While she treated Merle like he was her own, the damage to his emotional well-being was already done. His brother spent years all alone. He never had anyone who truly cared for him and the only love he ever received was a facade for social workers and cops that always seemed to be snooping around. Daryl suspected that neglect was why his brother had such a hard time maintaining any sort of relationship. And his obsession with being manly, therefore not weak, was entirely due to the brainwashing their father had instilled in him. So, Daryl couldn’t entirely blame his brother for his constant bullying and name-calling. He would happily take “Apollo” over any of the ones his brother had come up with. Especially if Pheonyx was the one calling him it. The name sounded so sweet coming from his lips, and honestly it made Daryl feel wanted. Aside from his brother, he never had friends growing up. And friends gave each other meaningful nicknames. Was that what this was? Was Pheonyx trying to be friends with him? Or was there something else? He did wink at him earlier. Didn’t he? No. He couldn’t have. He must have had something in his eye. That’s all. There is no possible way that a guy like Pheonyx would be trying to flirt with a guy like Daryl. For one, Daryl was older than him by at least a decade, if not more. Second, Pheonyx was incredibly attractive. Obviously, Daryl wasn’t gay but he could objectively say that the other man was beautiful. Even with the world the way it was, he was attractive enough that he could have anyone he wanted. There was no way he could possibly want someone like Daryl. An old redneck who spent the majority of his life chasing after his older brother. The idea that Pheonyx might, though, made his cheeks and ears turn red. Swamped with embarrassment, he gripped his crossbow tightly, reassuring himself of its comforting presence. 

Daryl ducked his head, hiding the heat of his face from Pheonyx’s eyes, and began to follow after Kismet. Despite the fact that he was out of sight, the dog was easy to trail. He left a path of destruction in his wake that was akin to Godzilla destroying a city. Broken branches, trampled bushes, and large paw prints smushed into the mud were like a line of breadcrumbs that led straight to the fumbling beast. If that wasn’t enough, Kismet sniffed out the trail like he was a pig at the state fair. Each inhale was a long snort and exhaled out with a loud wheeze. The sound was like a homing beacon to the dog’s location. Daryl hoped that the everpresent sound of windchimes around them would confuse walkers enough to keep them from following after the dog, and subsequently the two humans on his trail. 

He followed Kismet’s path for a minute before he realized that Pheonyx wasn’t next to him. Looking over his shoulder, he called out,

“Ya comin’, Firebird?” 

Daryl wasn’t entirely sure where the name had come from. The word slid off his tongue like it was something he had been saying for years.  It could be just a play on the other man’s namesake. Maybe it was the fire he had seen in Pheonyx’s eyes when he was standing up to Shane earlier. Either way, the name fit him well. Since Pheonyx had given Daryl his own nickname, it seemed only fitting to have chosen one for him too. 

They spent almost two hours following after Kismet. The speckled dog was very intent on the trail, only breaking his trance to jog back and smell the shirt hanging off of Pheonyx’s belt. After he reminded himself of the scent he was supposed to be tracking, he would trot back to the area he stopped and correct his direction to follow the scent. Pheonyx knew he was on the right track though, occasionally he would catch glimpses of small footprints in the moist forest floor and broken branches at a height that was equivalent to a 12 year old girl. Daryl must have noticed those things too because he didn’t voice any objections to their pathing. 

The afternoon sun was high in the sky, and even the shade from the forest canopy wasn’t enough to mute the heat from the blazing rays. Sweat was dripping down Pheonyx’s face and creating dark spots on his gray tank top. Daryl didn’t seem to be immune to the heat either, his face was glistening with perspiration, making the dirt on his skin darker and more pronounced. Kismet was also panting heavily. He didn’t break from his job though. In past training sessions, they didn’t usually stop until the dog found the scent he was tracking. This was very different than making Jimmy run around the yard with a squirrel skin dragging behind him though. As much as Pheonyx wanted to find Sophia right away, he needed to advocate for Kismet. The pup needed a breather. 

“We need to take a break,” he said, wiping his hand across his forehead to sop up some of the sweat that was tickling his skin. 

Daryl didn’t pause though. He looked back at the younger man with a frown and a slight glare. “Nah we gotta keep movin’. Wastin’ daylight just standin’ around. Sophia could be jus up ahead.”

“If she is, we’ll find her. 10 minutes. That’s all I ask. Kismet needs water and to relax for a minute. We’re no good to Sophia if we pass out from heat stroke and dehydration,” Pheonyx said, standing his ground.  

The archer was silent for a moment, but he realized the truth in Pheonyx’s words. “Fine,” he muttered in defeat. Once he glanced around the surrounding area and concluded there were no walkers or other dangers lurking, he leaned against the nearest tree and began to bite on the skin around his thumbnail. It was a habit of his from childhood he’d never seemed to break, no matter how much Merle told him it made him look like he was sucking his thumb. 

Pheonyx smiled at him in thanks before whistling to recall Kismet. It only took a few seconds for the Tasmanian Devil to burst through the brush, his tongue hanging out in an attempt to cool his overheated body. Pulling off his backpack, Pheonyx knelt next to him and began to scrub the dog’s neck, whispering to him, “You’re doing so good, handsome. Gotta take a break though. You thirsty?” 

Daryl tried to ignore the way his body shivered at the softness in Pheonyx’s tone. He tried not to watch the small beads of sweat slide down his toned arms, making the images on his skin glisten and come to life. He tried not to notice how the neckline of his gray tank top gaped a bit from the angle the other man was kneeling and he was able to get a glimpse of raven wings across his chest.  Instead, he focused on his movements. Pheonyx pulled out three water bottles and a dog bowl from his bag. The younger man opened one up, emptied the bottle into the bowl, and placed the vessel on the ground for Kismet to drink. 

Half a smile overtook Pheonyx’s face as he watched Kismet go to town on the water. Lapping loudly, more water ended up on his muzzle and the surrounding ground than in his mouth. It was still enough to cool him down a bit though because his panting was less heavy as he sprawled on the ground afterward. Shaking his head at the ditzy dog, Pheonyx stood up and handed one of the water bottles over to Daryl, who took it gratefully. He also pulled out one of the bags of jerky from his pocket and held it out to him. 

Daryl felt a wave of reluctance. It wasn’t that he wasn’t hungry. He was. The group’s food supply had dwindled over the past few days, and he hadn’t been able to properly hunt since he was busy looking for Sophia. He’d only managed to swallow down a small stale granola bar before they’d made the short drive to the Greene farm. The idea of being indebted to anyone though, didn’t sit right with him. Nothing in life was free. Especially not for him and Merle. That had been a lesson he’d learned early on. Parents were supposed to provide for their children. Food, clothes, love. But Will Dixon was only a parent in the biological sense. Nothing he ever gave the boys had been from the kindness of his heart. At first, his Ma did her best to put food on the table and clothe them. Once her depression took hold though, she couldn’t work and barely managed to get out of bed everyday. He and Merle took care of themselves the majority of the time. Food was swiped from the local grocery store, picked out of the dumpsters behind restaurants, or stolen from the local food bank donation bins around Thanksgiving time. Clothes were appropriated from lost and found bins around town, or purchased from a thrift store using the meager amounts of money the boys were able to make doing chores for the older folks in the trailer park. Despite the world falling, things hadn’t changed so much for Daryl. He still did his part to earn his food and clothing within the group. If he took the food from Pheonyx, he would owe him. Or at least, he felt like he would. The water bottle he had taken without hesitation but that was different. Water was a bit more common to find, especially on a farm that likely had a well. Food was more of a scarcity and therefore more valuable. So, no matter how much his chest was telling him that Pheonyx wasn’t like that, that he wouldn’t hold some jerky over Daryl’s head, his brain was winning the fight.  

Pheonyx could see the apprehension on Daryl’s face. 

“I swear I didn’t poison it,” he said, still holding the bag out. 

“Ain’t that,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his eyes in embarrassment, still trying to win the inner battle with his mind to just accept the damn food. “Don’t want any charity is all.”

Understanding dawned on Pheonyx and he nodded his head. During the first 8 years of his life, his mom had been an insurance agent and the bread-winner of the family. She was traveling 3 weeks out of every month and, even when she was home, her attention was mentally in the office. His biological father was a “stay-at-home dad”. Which meant he stayed home drinking most of the day while Pheonyx did his best to avoid his wrath. Despite this, the family had been middle class in their finances. So, he hadn’t gone without material-wise. While love had been lacking during that time, he always had a full stomach and always had fairly decent clothing. Moving with his mother and brother to live with Hershel, hadn’t changed that. His step-father was more well-to-do than they had been previously. A lot of the money was generational but most was from Hershel’s veterinary practice. Being one of two practices that specialized in large animals, in a farming community like Senoia, brought in quite a bit of money. They lived humbly despite the financial padding. Pheonyx could understand Daryl’s reluctance though. He knew it was hard to accept help, it created a sense of weakness, a feeling of helplessness. After he left Georgia, Pheonyx struggled immensely. Most of it was mental, but the physical results of that night also plagued him. At the time, he didn’t want to ask for help. He didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t want to owe anyone. By asking for help, his body wouldn’t be his own. It would belong to someone else. Because people didn’t typically do things without expectation of payment. He had already lost ownership of his body that night. He didn’t want to give anyone else the opportunity to take it again. Aaron had been there to help him when his problems became too much but he had been at his breaking point then. There hadn’t been any other option. 

“I promise it’s not charity. And I’m not looking for anything in return. Mom raised me to be a gentleman. And that means sharing when I have the means to. Maggie packed enough for all three of us,” Pheonyx shook the bag a little and raised his eyebrows. 

Again, Daryl hesitated but after a moment he tentatively took the plastic bag of jerky. He waited for Pheonyx to take a bite of his own portion before he popped a small piece of the dehydrated meat into his mouth. Now, Daryl Dixon was no stranger to jerky. Growing up in a house where hunting was as natural as breathing, meant that smoked and dehydrated meat were a staple of his diet. His parent’s money issues meant that fresh, healthy foods weren’t always available. There were days when all Merle and he had to eat was jerky and wild mulberries that grew rampant on the outskirts of the trailer park. The jerky he was currently chewing though, was nothing like the overly salty, yet still bland, meat he was used to making and eating. That meat was a means of survival. This felt like an indulgence. Despite the lack of moisture, the jerky was still tender and almost melted on his tongue, releasing a myriad of flavors. It was sweet and peppery with a hint of smokiness that rounded out the blend of spices. A small bit of gaminess let him know it was rabbit meat, which wasn’t his favorite overall, but if it was prepared anything like what he was chewing on, his opinion was likely to change. 

Apparently he made some sort of face because Pheonyx looked at him questioningly. Daryl averted his eyes, ears turning a flaming red, embarrassed about letting his emotions show. 

“It’s good,” he mumbled. 

The brightness of the forest seemed to increase tenfold with the proud smile Pheonyx gave him and those damn moths fluttered in his gut again. 

“Thanks! I make it myself. When people evacuated they took all their canned goods. But no one thinks to bring the spice cabinet. So, I’ve got an abundance of stuff to create different flavor profiles. My personal motto is that just because the world ended doesn’t mean you can’t have good food. Just have to know how to use what’s at your disposal.” 

At Zombie Ink(an ironic name considering their current circumstances), Pheonyx’s boss held a bi-weekly potluck for the staff, which consisted of many ethnicities and cultures. Every meeting was a blend of new flavors and cooking techniques to be learned. It was one of the few times that Pheonyx felt like he could interact with people, even if it just meant sharing recipes or learning about different cultural nuances, and had helped him make some friends. He had been trying to recreate those flavors and dishes with the monotonous food supplies they had. 

Silence lapsed as the two made quick work of the food. Pheonyx alternated between eating his own and tossing pieces of the unseasoned jerky to Kismet, who ate it enthusiastically. Daryl tried to keep his gaze averted but he kept getting drawn back to the man a few feet from him. His mind was playing through the events of the day up until that point. And he knew he had to ask Pheonyx something. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but he had to make sure. 

Popping the last piece of meat into his mouth, Daryl broached the subject bluntly, “Ya a guy, right?”

Pheonyx dropped the piece of jerky that he had been about to place in his mouth, a choking noise of shock leaving his lips. Kismet dove and caught the meat before it could hit the dirt near his owner’s knees. Fear and anxiety was flitting through Pheonyx’s veins, or else he would have been worried about how the spices would affect Kismet’s stomach. He knew where the conversation was going. It was probably inevitable but the fact he was alone in the woods with the man upped the terror of the situation. While he felt comfortable around Daryl, he couldn’t help the images of the past that floated through his mind. 

“Uh yeah- I mean yes. I am.”

Daryl felt the fear in Pheonyx’s eyes like a knife to the gut. His hands twitched with the need to reach out and soothe his worries. But he didn’t. Something told him that any movements towards the other man would make things worse. So he kept his face blank, and averted his gaze to the surrounding woods. He was starting to think he shouldn’t have started this conversation, based on the other man’s fearful reactions. But there was no going back now. 

“Ya were born a girl, though?” he asked calmly, trying to make his deep voice as un-intimidating as possible. 

Pheonyx considered lying. It would be the safest option. He’d grown up around guys like Daryl. Rough conservative types. And they were usually the ones who reacted violently to anything in the realm of ‘other’. But the archer was so calm. The question had been asked so nonchalantly. As if he were discussing the weather. His words weren’t laced with accusation or scrutinizing countenance. He was just gazing calmly into the woods and fiddling with the now-empty bag that once held their afternoon snack.  

“Yes,” the whispered word slipped through Pheonyx’s mouth before he could stop it. He hoped that he hadn’t heard him, but the archer’s ears had been honed after years of hunting. 

Daryl’s eyes locked with Pheonyx’s and he knew the other man had heard him. Pheonyx flinched, eyes slamming shut, bracing himself for the pain. His heart was slamming against his chest, like the shadows did on the barn door when he walked past. Sweat coated his palms and soaked into his shirt. His breathing picked up a bit and Kismet crawled over to him, whining. The big dog pushed his nose into Pheonyx’s hand and sidled his bulky body up next to his masters. 

Pheonyx waited, barely even noticing Kismet’s attempts at calming him. 1 second, 10 seconds, a minute. He waited for the pain, whether it be vile words or physical hits. But they never came. Instead, there was a crumple of plastic and a deep, “Okay.”

A part of Daryl wanted to offer more words, to say that Pheonyx didn’t have to worry. That he wouldn’t hurt him. Because he knew that was why Pheonyx had reacted that way: sweating, flinching, practically hyperventilating. Someone had hurt him. Badly. Anger filled his body and he wanted to turn around and punch the tree he had been leaning against. That would just cement Pheonyx’s fears though. He tried not to think about why he had such a fierce reaction to the idea of someone hurting the younger man, someone he had only known for a few hours. Instead, he crumpled up the empty bag he had been holding and shoved it in his pocket. 

 Pheonyx’s eyes shot open and he gaped at the other man in shock. “Okay? That’s it? Just okay?”

“Ain’t my business what ya got goin’ on in ya pants. Just didn’ wanna make assumptions,”  the older man said simply. Like he was giving the answer to 2+2. 

It took a moment for his words to soak in. Daryl wasn’t going to hurt him. Daryl wasn’t going to yell. Daryl wasn’t going to break him. Daryl wasn’t going to try to “fix” him. Daryl wasn’t like the demons from the alley. Daryl was different. 

And Pheonyx wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He wasn’t used to people just accepting him for who he was. Maggie and Aaron had been the only ones who accepted him whole-heartedly, no questions asked. There was always some kind of push back. People asked him if he was sure, or if it was just a phase. Or telling him that god didn’t make mistakes. Or saying they accepted him but continually messing up his pronouns. So, he just cleared his throat, patted Kismet’s head, and stood up. He adjusted the cutlass on his hip, making sure all his other weapons were attached and in place. 

“Are we ready to go?”

The old Miller house had been abandoned for almost 50 years. Originally, it had belonged to Hershel’s great great aunt. She lived there with her husband and two kids. When her kids died from a severe illness, haunting memories caused the married couple to move out of Georgia. After that, the house had occasionally been offered up to farmhands and their families but nothing permanent in going on four decades. For years it stood, withering and decaying, on the far edges of the Greene property. 

The white house had two stories and faded red shutters. Paint was falling off the sides of the structure and the front awning was one wind gust away from caving in. The front door was closed with a red x spray painted across the front. At one point, it was beautiful. Now, it was just an embodiment of memories. 

Pheonyx’s hand gripped onto Kismet’s leather collar tightly. The dog whined and tried to pull them towards the house, indicating that the scent trail led there. 

“Stay, Kismet,” Pheonyx murmured to the pup. A grumble came from Kismet’s barrel chest, indicating his displeasure at being called off the search. To appease him, Pheonyx pulled some unseasoned jerky from his pocket and gave it to the dog. Wet slobber coated his palm as Kismet gobbled it down before flopping onto the ground, much akin to a dead fish. Grimacing, Pheonyx wiped his hand on his pants and looked over at Daryl, who was checking the strings on his crossbow. 

“That yer doin'?” Daryl asked, pointing at the red X on the door. 

“Yeah. I mark all the houses I search and clear. I can tell you right now that someone’s been here. Even without Kismet chomping to follow the scent.”

“How’s tha’?”

“The side door’s open. I always make sure to shut the doors when I’m done with a house. Don’t want any shadows finding their way in there and surprising the next people who make their way through,” Pheonyx explained, shrugging. He unsheathed his cutlass, the sharp edge making a slight zing as it rubbed against the metal supports of the casing. The light weight of the weapon felt comfortable in his hand, and he felt its aura of safety engulf him. 

Daryl led the way towards the house, readying his crossbow when they stepped up onto the porch. He turned his head towards Pheonyx, nodding his head at him, gauging to see if he was ready or not. Pheonyx lifted his cutlass up, slightly above his midline, and jerked his head once back at him. Daryl used that as his cue to kick the front door open. Dust flew up as the rotting wood hit the wall with a resounding bang.  

“The door was unlocked. You could have just opened it, Apollo.” Pheonyx whispered to him, in a slightly scolding tone. 

Daryl rolled his eyes but kept his attention on the house in front of him. That was probably true, but he wouldn’t admit that to the younger man. The place had obviously been abandoned a long time ago, but some furniture and knick knacks still remained. A thick layer of dust coated everything, but he was able to make out small footprints on the weathered wood floors. He wanted to call out for Sophia, his heart pounding at knowing she was, or had been, there. But they hadn’t checked the place for walkers yet. Even though there was no scent of decay, there was still a possibility of one of those geeks popping up. 

“Let’s split up,” he murmured back. 

“Let me guess. It’s not you, it’s me, right?”, Pheonyx joked, still keeping his eye on the quiet house. 

If it was anyone else, Daryl would have snapped at them for fooling around while doing something so serious, but he found himself enjoying the playful side of Pheonyx. Compared to the terrified man he’d seen only a short while ago, he would gladly take the playful one. Daryl wasn’t sure how it was possible, but even more blood rushed to his already overheated face as he thought about the syntax of the joke.  Of being in a relationship with Pheonyx. 

“Stop,” he said weakly. 

A light chuckle sounded next to him. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it. The second floor is unstable so I don’t recommend going up there,” Pheonyx motioned with the short sword to the broken wooden stairs. 

Daryl nodded, glancing at the rotted steps across from them. “Ain’t seein’ any tracks up there anyways. She prolly stuck ta the first floor.” 

Pheonyx nodded at him. “I’ll check right.”

With that, they both began to search on their respective sides of the house. Daryl slowly aimed his crossbow right and left as he checked each room, glancing down slightly to track the small shoe prints imprinted on the dusty floor. Light creaking from across the house let him know that Pheonyx was also taking steady steps as he walked through his section of the first floor. Daryl was impressed at how quiet the younger man was. Both in the woods and in the house. Daryl pulled his mind from thoughts of Pheonyx and made his way through what used to be a living room. The only furniture in it was a torn couch, that something had obviously made its home evidenced by the slightly rustling cushions. Next was what he assumed was a dining room, as the only thing left in it was an overturned wooden chair and a broken bar cart. From there, he entered the kitchen area. This had more furniture left than the other parts of the house. Old cupboards lined the wall opposite a wide window, a thin door to the right indicating some sort of pantry. A rickety table was askew in the middle of the space, dirty cutlery scattered on the surface. On the wall across from the door was an old wooden hutch with dirty mason jars and random kitchen utensils. Adjacent to it was an overflowing metal trash can. A heavy fish scent led him over to the bin. Sitting on top of old crumpled newspapers and empty glass bottles, was a can of anchovies that was open and empty. It was newer than the trash it resided on, and the juices in the can hadn’t dried. Holding it towards his nose, he tried to smell any scent of spoiling. There was a slight sourness to it that meant it was just beginning to go bad. It was probably about a day old. The soured fish scent would be heavier if it were any older, especially with the high temperature in the days past. 

Glancing around at the floor, Daryl noted the plethora of tiny shoe prints that stippled the worn panels. Most of them congregated around the pantry so he stepped slowly towards the door. Keeping his crossbow raised, just in case of surprises, he pulled the door open quickly. There wasn’t anybody inside but in the small area, beneath the main shelves, was a tiny nest of blankets. The area was tight and only someone shorter than 5ft would be able to cram themselves in there comfortably. A sense of relief filled Daryl. He was upset that Sophia wasn’t there, but they were on the right track. She had been there. And if the can was any indication, she was there recently. 

A squeak of the floorboards had Daryl whirling around, aiming his crossbow directly at the source of the noise. Instead of a walker’s milky white eyes, he was met with fern green irises. Pheonyx, in the middle of sheathing his cutlass, raised his eyebrows at the other man.

“Calm down, Apollo. Just me. The rest of the house is clear. You find anything?”

Daryl lowered his weapon. He grunted in affirmation and inclined his head towards the nest of blankets at the bottom of the pantry, “We’re ‘bout a day behind her. Found a fresh can in the trash.”

A look of deep concentration came over Pheonyx’s face and he turned to one of the built-in cupboards next to the pantry door. He opened the door to the bottom-most cabinet. It was empty.

Daryl was curious about what the man was looking for but his mind went blank as he watched Pheonyx bend over. His mouth went dry and his grip tightened on the weapon in his hand. He’d never been much of an ass man(hell, he didn’t think he was any type of man before this) but the way Pheonyx’s backside filled out those jeans had him thinking thoughts that were confusing for someone who obviously wasn’t gay. 

A large smile overtook Pheonyx’s face and Daryl pushed away the troubling fantasies he was having. 

“Your girl’s chance of survival just went up.”, there was a slight squeak of excitement in the younger man’s voice that he couldn’t help. 

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the other man in confusion, so Pheonyx explained. “A month ago, I set up twelve supply drops with bug-out bags. Just in case something were to happen at the farm. One of those was here. Each bag has enough supplies to help survive a week, or more if rationed right. MRE’s, pop-up tents, water bottles, water purification tablets, survival blankets, firestarters, maps, compasses. There’s even a hunting knife in each bag. We may not have found her today but her mom should feel a little better knowing she's got some supplies."

The relief that Daryl felt was palpable and Pheonyx was glad he could at least offer him something. 

“I’d say let’s keep going but we need to start heading back now if we want to be at the farm before it gets dark,” Pheonyx said. He noted the flash of anger in Daryl’s eyes and continued softly, “Kismet and I will head out at first light tomorrow.”

The older man grunted in frustration and brought his thumb to his mouth to chew on his nail. His train of thought stopped and focused on the phrasing of the other man’s words. Thinking back he remembered Pheonyx saying they would only work together for the day. While it would probably be better to have more people spread out looking for Sophia, his stomach clenched at the idea of splitting up from Pheonyx. Obviously, because it was safer to work in pairs. Not because he was attracted to the younger man. That would be weird because he obviously wasn’t gay.  “Ya ain’t going out alone, Firebird. Me, you, n’ the mutt can search together. Might need ta talk ta Rick ‘bout his ideas fer tomorrow though.” 

Running his fingers through his sweat soaked hair, Pheonyx nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know how Kismet will do if we have a bunch of other people in the woods searching too. He did good today, but with a bunch of other smells he might get confused. I also worry about other people getting lost. Shadows aren’t the only things in these woods that can hurt you. No offense but the others in your group didn’t look like they had much experience with the outdoors.”

Daryl snorted, “Yer tellin’ me. Buncha city-slickers.”

They both headed out the back door of the house and Pheonyx whistled his three note recall to Kismet. While they waited on the dog, Daryl called out to Sophia. It was a long shot, he knew that. But he had to try. There was no response though. The only sounds he heard were the warbling melody of frogs and the distant burbling of the creek. And the chaotic sounds of a huge dog barreling his way towards them. Both men watched as Kismet, unable to stop his momentum once he reached them, slid into a boxwood bush with a loud crash. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Pheonyx grimaced, “You okay, Kismet?” he called out.

The leaves and branches shook for a moment before Kismet’s speckled face popped out from the green foliage. His tongue was hanging out, panting happily. He shook himself off before trotting over to them. A quick glance over told Pheonyx that, aside from some dirt on his sides, the dog was unscathed.  He turned his head to ask Daryl if he was ready to head out, but the words died on his lips as he watched the man pluck a Cherokee Rose from the thorny plant neighboring the boxwood that Kismet had just slid into. The story of the flower was something he was very familiar with, having learned about the Georgia state flower in elementary school. 

“You getting that for her mom?,” he asked the archer softly, taking a step to run his fingers over one of the roses still on the bush. 

Daryl nodded, “Sophia’s all she’s got left. Lost ‘er husband a week ago. Weren’t no real loss there. Guy was a prick,” he was silent for a moment, “Them girls ain’t deserve none a this shit.”

While that was a true enough statement, he couldn’t tell the truth, the real reason he was so determined to find this little girl. He couldn’t even admit it to himself. He couldn’t admit that when he saw Carol, he saw a reflection of his own mama. That first day in camp, Merle had taken to calling her “Mouse” because of how skittish and meek she was. Her husband had such a tight hold on her, every move she made was followed by a look over her shoulder to make sure Ed wasn’t there to beat her down. He’d seen the same look in his own mama’s eyes many times. By the end, the fear had torn her down so much that she was only a shell. A walker before walkers existed. 

And he certainly couldn’t admit that he saw a bit of his childhood self in Sophia. Sophia was merely a ghost. People would see flashes of her blonde hair out of the corner of their eyes, but she’d be gone by the time they’d turn their head. While Carl was a chatterbox, Sophia was damn near voiceless. Daryl had probably only heard her speak two or three times that he could remember. Just like her mom, looking at Sophia had him staring back into the past. The little boy, he used to be, lived a life of invisibility. The less he was noticed, the less pain he had to endure under his father’s belt. He spent more time hiding in the kitchen cupboards than in his own bed. But unlike him, Sophia’s abuser died. She had a chance at a normal life–as normal as one can be with the dead walking around. He needed to find her. For Carol. For his mama. For that little boy that he used to be. 

Pheonyx wanted to reach out to the man, maybe place a hand on his shoulder, but he stopped himself. Instead he gave him words. “We’ll find her. I don’t like to make promises but I will now. You and me. We’ll find her,” a grumble came from his side and he rolled his eyes, “ Kismet will help too.”

Plucking a rose from the bush, he handed it to Daryl, a physical contract of his words. Calloused hands brushed against his own and blue eyes locked with his green ones. Blood rose on both of their faces and they both looked away at the same time. Nothing more was said. 

The two men walked side by side, with a speckled hound between them, one holding a Cherokee Rose and a promise. 

Taglist: @edgyboi10000 @yoongibaybee @dixonsboy19

[msookyspooky]

  Fours a Franchise

Part 4

wordcount: 8,926

A small crowd gathered across the street as Randy stopped Karla from coming out. Going to their house and ushering her back inside while warning her not to let the kids see.

You stayed put to answer some questions for Perkins right before Dewey pulled up. He rushed over to you, clear panic in his voice. "YN, what happened!?"

You lightly grazed your teeth over your lip and tried to get it out. Your mouth dry as reality was crashing into you how real this was… That it really was starting again.

You finally forced it out. "I-I heard screaming. I went outside and saw this Olivia girl hanging out the window. I thought I saw a masked figure dragging her inside. I told the girls to find Perkins and the other officer while I broke in to try and help…I went to her room where it happened, the killer called me on Olivia's phone from somewhere in the house and then Jill came in. We got attacked. I'm fine but she got a slash on the arm…We came out to find…Olivia like this." You mumbled, glancing at the sectioned off crime scene as Deputy Hicks took pictures and a crew were trying to get Olivia's corpse down.

Dewey stared, eyes wide as his Adams apple bobbed from a harsh swallow. You could see his mind thinking back to the past as he stared… He quickly rubbed at his mustache before he voiced aloud. "I want everyone not part of the Woodsboro Police Department to get away from the crime scene! Everyone go back into your homes! That's a direct order from the Woodsboro Police Department!" You then heard Dewey demand from his two Deputies: "What the hell happened here?! You were supposed to keep watch!"

The people on the street glared at you once Dewey walked away. A few voices yelled. "This is your fault, YN!"

  "No one wants you here!"

"You're the murderer, YN!"

You stared at them. Shell shocked over everything as you frowned to yourself. You felt a hand on your shoulder that made you flinch away. Looking to see it was just Jill as she quickly pulled her hand back. Her arm wrapped in bloody gauze. "YN, I'm sorry for what I said…I just…Seeing Olivia's room had me-"

You shook your head. "Forget it. It's an awful situation. You shouldn't have seen that."

She nodded and motioned to you. "Should you get checked out at the hospital?"

You gave her tight smile. "No. I didn't get a scratch on me. Some bruises, maybe but…You on the other hand will probably need stitches. Don't worry, it's not as bad as it sounds. I've had them so many times."

Jill shuffled in place and muttered. "Thanks for being there. I know you couldn't save Olivia but you saved me."

You frowned at that, glancing back over at the crime scene before Jill sadly looked away and rubbed her eyes. "I-I guess I'll see you around?"

You nodded at her. "Yeah. Take care and stay safe." You told her as she walked back over to her friends near the ambulance. You walked over across the street to Randy's.

You went inside and slowly shut the door, extra aware of how quiet it was. "Hey, Randy?..." You called out. When he didn't answer, you went to get your gun, just to be cautious before jumping out of your skin right when you went to grab the gun and a female sounded out.

"It's me! Jesus, YN! Put that away, you're okay now!" Karla scolded, clutching her chest as you both startled eachother.

You groaned and shoved it in your waistband. "Don't sneak up on someone with a gun and some serious PTSD, Karla."

"I wasn't sneaking in my own damn house, YN. I was asking if you were alright. You grabbed that gun before I could say it."

"...Yeah, I'm alright. Jumpy." You closed your eyes and nodded. Speaking low. "Are you packed?"

"Getting there. I just called my Mom and she's more than happy to have her grandkids visit…It's bad, isn't it?"

You hesitated. "Extremely. Honestly, after this." You sighed and drew out. "I know it's not the time but…Maybe convince Randy to work outside this town? I'm not necessarily saying move but I told him he should pursue film again in Hollywood and he blanked on me…Anything so he doesn't feel so tide down to this town as he's made himself."

"I liked this town before this… I'm gonna have nightmares about that poor girl for weeks. I could see through the curtain and had to force the kids back to bed.  I'm gonna think of it everytime I walk outside and I know Randy will too."

"The kids didn't see, did they?" You rushed out, eyes wide before she shook her head and you gave a relieved sigh. That sigh drew out as you rubbed at your face. "Just… Try to convince Randy the bills will be fine, he's talented and to go take a chance doing something outside this place. Maybe if he gets established in Hollywood you guys can move and find a bigger place for two rowdy teenagers and one less nosey neighbor? "

She nodded, holding herself as you both stood in silence for a moment.

Randy walked in and announced. "Alright, kids are packed for at least a week. Now you just have to get your bag."

Karla gave a worried look and walked over to Randy, lacing her hands around his shoulders and looking at him. "Randy, you okay? That was…Awful."

He forced a smile and laced his hands on the small of her back. "I'm fine. Really. This isn't me and YN's first rodeo, remember?"

"It's not mine either but it's still fucking morbid." She muttered. "I don't like leaving you here… I mean, I know it's not clear on the East Coast, thank god my parents moved here to be with their Grandbabies cause I don't know anywhere else to stay but it's still more than an hour from here! How am I supposed to leave you here in a time like this?...You know the tongue lashing my Mama gave me for moving to Cali years ago clear on the other side of the Country? I'll never hear the end of it if she found out we were all in danger because of living here. How the hell am I supposed to explain all this and my Husband's not there with me?"

He stared a moment before shrugging slightly. "...Maybe I'm not? Dewey has no idea where the hell we're going. I'm going with you and so is YN. We won't even tell your parents! Just say we invited YN out of pity of her being lonely-"

You tilted your head at with your arms folded and a slight scowl as he continued.

"-And that we wanted the kids to see their other Grandparents. I wish my family could come too but for now I don't think the killers targeting siblings or parents or cousins…They want us. Specifically Me, YN, Dewey, Gale and apparently Jill Robert's and this friend group she's in. It's probably one of them… Regardless, YN and me are not staying here to find out and I won't take the chance with you and the kids."

You cringed and interjected. "Ray, I don't know-"

He sent a cold glare your way and spoke a bit louder. "YN, you could have died less than an hour ago. I'm still floored you even went in there! But regardless, it's pretty obvious some punk ass kid is starting shit again and I am NOT being part of another horror movie and I'm not getting a phone call you were found with your liver cut out just so later on I can find it in my mailbox."

Karla gave him a sneer of disgust. "Ew, really?"

He tilted his head with grimace but nodded. "Possibility."

Karla gave him a once over before mumbling. "...You know…I wouldn't be opposed to moving or thinking about it."

"Karla. We can't-" He went to protest and she interrupted him.

"Look, I'm not living on this street at this house after what happened and frankly I'm not too keen on being in this shithole, period. Okay, I don't care if it's North Carolina where the rest of my family is or just a town over from this place or down on the outskirts of town or fucking Hollywood at this point."

Randy gave you an offended look. "YN!"

You held up your hands defensively as Karla drew his attention back to her. Placing her fingertips on his jaw and moving his head back to look at her. "Randy, I didn't want to not suporrt you but…This business idea of yours isn't getting it. You know how I told you I always wanted nice things? How I wanted you to have nice things? Most of all, how I wanted us safe? Well, that ain't happening here… At all. " She released a breath through her nose, tilting her head and frowning. "…Take the chance for me. Even if the movie industry doesn't work out; then at least you tried and maybe we'll have a fresh start? I know your family is here but kids visit grandparents in other towns all the time! They do mine but my family doesn't live in a town where famous murders have happened that their Daddy was involved in." He gazed at her, eyes scanning her own as she gave him a chaste kiss. "Just think about it, alright? I want the kids to have a happy Dad not a tired Dad because of those two damn stores…And most of all, I want all of us alive. Let Dewey handle this and Gale investigate and let's all get the fuck out of here. And maybe after this is all over…We can think of leaving for good."

He swallowed and slowly nodded. "...Okay. I'll consider it."

She smiled and kissed him again before pulling away. "I'll go pack."

Randy waited till she was gone and turned to you right when you tried sneaking away. "YN."

You turned back to him and threw your arm up. Sore from falling down stairs but still able to get around. "I know, I'm sorry! But I really think Woodsboro is the last place you all need to live at-"

"No, not that!…What just happened over there? How could you be so stupid?!"

"What? I was supposed to see a girl being murdered and not help?"

"Yes! That's a very normal reaction to just watch across the street and call 911."

"Yeah well, I can't. Not when the killer is only here because of me."

He gave you an annoyed look. "You have no idea if that's true."

"They called me. Well, they called Olivia and I answered…It's happening again, Randy…And once again, we're targets. The killer is just killing near us to bait us. Or to warn us; Just saving us for last."

His face fell as he ran a hand over his hair. "Fucking Jesus. Why? Why after a decade did someone put on that fucking costume?!"

" I don't know…I'm calling my family-"

You went to walk away and he argued. "Are you serious? It's 1am!"

"Ray, we can't afford time. I need to let them know!" You rolled your lips as Randy eyed you up and down.

Just then, a knock sounded once before someone just came in. You and Randy jumped before you heard the voice.

"Anyone home? There you are! So, YN! Just got off the phone. Nasty over there, right? Glad you're okay, though! Anyways, long story short; Random wants to lock you into 3 more books. Now." Rebecca informed you with a smile as she pulled out a contract. "See the blank line in your contract? You can name your price!" She laughed. "Like, fuck me WOW! This is huge!"

You turned away to go to the kitchen as Randy stepped back a bit, disbelief on his face. She had a pip in her step as she followed you.

"And as soon as you're clear in this investigation, we're on the next plane to New York." She got in front of you, confidently stating. "I booked Today, The View, Nancy Grace, MTV News-"

"Lady, YN almost died." Randy scoffed.

You held up a hand. You felt sick and nervous and angry but you knew this had to be done. "Randy, can you just give me a moment with my assistant? Please?"

He nodded and left the room with a long stare towards Rebecca as you turned back to her to talk.

She cringed. "Yikes. So anyways-" She went to continue and you stopped her.

"Excuse me, Can I…Can I ask you a question? Have you read the I wrote book? Truly read it?"

She cringed with a smile. "Eh no. I mean, that's what Editors are for. I was kind of waiting for the movie."

Your face soured as you looked her dead in the eye and did what you should have done a long time ago. "Book tour is canceled." You firmly stated as you went towards the front door.

Rebecca stopped you, grabbing your bruised arm as you lightly jerked it away. "YN, accept your situation! You're a victim, for life. So, embrace it! Use it!...You can either be the suspect writing those horror novels that weren't going anywhere or the victim proving to the world she's innocent! Just think for a second. Okay, no one wants another Anne Rice or Stephan King wannabe; you will never ever be them or on their level! The market for horror is capped. But you know what people will always love to here? Real life survivors of their own horror movies." She pleaded with a smile. "I know you care about your readers. All those down-trodden little fucks that just need a light at the end of their tunnel so they don't jump off a bridge."

You felt your brows raise at that and a deep sick feeling come over you as if you were hearing her, truly hearing her, for the first time.

"Come on, YN! I am talking a 100% increase in sales; minimum. That's maybe a million more people getting your message and you get a ton more checks. Win-win."

You released a breath with a bitter smile. "No, it's your message. It's the message that sells. It was never mine. None of this is!…I won't be needing you anymore."

"YN!" Rebecca exclaimed as you opened the door.

"You're fired. "

"Fired?!"

"Fired. There's the door."

You caught Randy lurking in the hallway, leaning against a wall with an impressed look on his face as he mouthed a low whistle at your tone.

Rebecca fumbled, shaking her head with an outraged scoff. "Y-You can't!"

Randy walked over, placed a hand on her back and shoved her forward. "She said, there's the door. Incase you didn't hear her, Miss. Walter's,  get the fuck outta my house."

Rebecca gave him a look that screamed she was going to go up and slap him as she stumbled in her low heels on his sidewalk. You purposely stepped infront of him and gave her a glare as Randy smirked at her. "That's for earlier in my bookstore…By the way, your display was bland, my kids could've done that."

She straightened hersel. "Fine. But just remember who helped you become who you are, YN. All stars crash and burn eventually and maybe once you realize that I'll be there to pick up the pieces again and make you the bright, shiny star free of any hard feelings if you just reconsider-"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Bye-bye." He gave. Your lips parted as Randy shut the door for you. Her words taking you back to the phone call from earlier…

Once the door was shut, you hesitated before letting your body fall against it. Scowling at Randy. "Was that necessary?"

"A little." He grinned at you. "I am so glad you finally got rid of that depressed, mopping YN and the old you is back. Just in time for the blood shed too."

You huffed, rolling your eyes slightly but giving a reluctant smirk. "Yeah well…I needed to do that a while ago."

"Felt good, right? The power of being able to shit can someone for a change?"

"Easy there. You run a video and book store, Ray. You're not the CEO of a mega corporation or anything."

"Hey, when you have a burnout that slacks on every shift and draws dicks in your bathroom stall and ate your freaking lunch out of your fridge;  that power of finally saying enough is enough is oh so sweet."

"Yeah well, now that that's over; I need to call my family."

"...Your family? Right now? Really."

"Yes, Randy. I'm talking to them outside. What's the malfuction?"

"Why? Why can't it wait till morning?"

"Uh because I want privacy with them that won't have in the morning?? You know, the opposite of what you just did with me and Rebecca's conversation? Look, if it makes you feel better you can watch me to make sure I'm okay. I'm going to the backporch with a gun and cops across the street still. The killer is long gone by now and if they aren't, then they're dumb as fuck…K'ay?"

He eyed you, rolling his lips in thought before rolling his eyes. "Fine but make it quick."

You walked out the backdoor, Randy on your heels before closing it. Walking a few paces and then getting out your cell phone. You cautiously looked around. You WANTED to make the call in the safety of the bathroom but the only bathroom was right next to Karla and Randy's room where they were packing and the kids room was next to that on the opposite side. It was a small house with thin walls and you just didn't trust it. You licked your lips as you saw Randy looking through the backdoors glass.

'Now or never.' You thought as you scrolled through your phone to a number you never called before. Marked 'Unknown' on the caller ID on purpose. If anyone asked; you'd play stupid as to what the number was and 'it must be a mistake, I had to have accidentally saved it!' as an excuse.

You sucked in a deep breath and shakily pressed call. Putting it up to your ear as it rang…And rang…And rang. You knew you wouldn't try again if it went to voicemail. Just when you almost gave up; it picked up.

You held your breath, feeling your heartbeat quicken and your palms tingle as you heard his voice, his true voice, for the first time in 10 years.

"...Hello?...YN??"

You didn't answer at first, tongue tied and unable to force out what you needed to tell him.

"Hello??....I can hear you breathing so-"

"S-Dennis…Y-Yeah. It's me. Are you alone?"

"YN…" He breathed out your name. Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it no matter how much you didn't want it to. A slight chuckle sounded as he told you. "I almost thought someone had your phone…Yeah, I'm alone…Are you alone?"

You heard a woman in the background as a door closed on the other line and you felt a strange uneasiness come over you. You released a long breath, looking around before mumbling  "Yeah, for now."

You heard him become silent before breathing out a slight chuckle again. "Uh, wow…It's been a long time. To what do I owe the pleasure of you calling me?"

It was silent a moment before you forced it out in a harsh whisper. "…It's happening again. The killer. I just got attacked."

"Well damn just get right to the point, why don't you...Shit." He groaned softly before asking. "You hurt?"

"No. I mean, I was thrown down the stairs and had my head slammed into a wall but nothing too unusual for me when this shit happens."

"Goddammit, Sweetcheeks…Lord, been a hot minute since you heard that, huh?"

Despite yourself, a small smile crept across your face that you rolled your lips to hide. "Yeah, it has. Been a hot minute since I fought for my life too." You looked up at the night sky and sighed. "I'm serious, though. I was just attacked…They gave me a warning on the phone using the voice changer. This is definitely for real and not a prank."

"Alright, fucking jesus man. You still live at your cabin? I'll be at your place by morning just lock everything and-"

"Uh, n-no…This happened in Woodsboro. I came here for a book signing today and 3 people are already dead."

"You…Live in Woodsboro??"

"No, just visiting. I'm on permanent lockdown here. I'm legally not allowed to leave town until these murders are solved. I tried to help the neighbor girl and that's when I got attacked. I was too late…I'm scared me or Randy or Dewey or even Gale might be next on the chopping block soon…The anniversary of the party is in a few days." The line was silent. You anxiously looked around, holding yourself with your free hand as you harshly whispered. "It was a killer in a mask that attacked me after killing her and I spoke to them over the phone. I need you to-"

"Woah, hold the phone here." He interrupted you. "Now let me get this straight…You purposely step foot back in that town and you get attacked by not minding your business and now you want my help because you're under house arrest or something? "

Your face scrunched. "Huh? What are you talking about-"

He cut you off with a sarcastic laugh. "That's fucking classic, man. Classic YN. You don't call me, don't text me, don't think of me for over a fucking decade until you suddenly need me to protect you and then you're just going to go back to not talking to me until the next threat comes along. What the fuck do you think I am; some cuck white knight?"

You scoffed loudly in outrage. Trying to keep your voice quiet. "What?! The fuck are you-...We had an agreement!"

"Nooo, YN. YOU made this the only way to exchange digits with me. That you'd only call if this situation were to happen. I didn't agree to shit. I gave you my number hoping you'd come to your senses! I was patient, I left you alone, I gave you space, I apologized, I gave you everything you wanted and I STILL never heard a fucking thing from you."

Your nostril flared and you ground your teeth. "You tried to kill me for a third time, remember that? I mean, what the fuck?! You threatened me with my own gun after I trusted you! I don't owe you a damn thing and I made that extremely clear 10 years ago!"

"And I don't owe you shit either, YN. "

"St-" You quieted your voice more. "Stop. The killer is back! Aren't you listening?"

"Yeah man, that you went into a town that probably hates your guts and now you're suffering the consequences for a dumbass choice you made…How's your little book going, by the way? Out of Darkness? Dammnnn, that's ironic now, huh?"

You sneered. "Nice one, asshole. Did 'you know who' rub off on you or what-"

"Nah its called I moved on. I live nicely with nice cars and go to nice parties with very not so nice girls I take home. I don't need you anymore. Have fun with that knowledge."

"Please, you aren't listening!"

"Did the killer mention me? Did they send a warning about our secret or anything?"

You thought for a moment. "...Yes."

"Yeeaahhh I don't think so. You're getting better at lying though just a lil bit too delayed, babe. Even if that's true, I won't believe till I get a call or note like last time."

"You seriously don't care?"

"NO, I DON'T." He firmly growled out. "You don't get to treat the only guy that fully protected you and accepted you like garbage and then expect him to come running back to save your ass every time! How many times did I save you from Billy or any other killer? I didn't expect you to put out but a text once in a blue moon would have been nice. Let me guess, you're too busy with your best friend zone Randy or some new guy now, right? Let them handle it."

"I didn't-" You sucked in a harsh breath with your eyes closed. "I almost died an hour ago. Even if you don't care about me anymore, it's a matter of time before they come for you too!"

"Let 'em. Have fun dodging knives and bullets..I'd get a trip to a salon though. That new hair isn't doing you justice, babe. It won't be so hot on an obituary."

He clicked off. 

Your mouth hung open in shock as you screamed under your breath in frustration. Hands forming claws as you wanted nothing more than to strangle him. Any 'butterflies' you felt first hearing his voice were beyond gone. You turned to see Randy wasn't at the door anymore…Your heart sank a bit.

"Hello, YN."

A voice sounded from the darkness and you nearly jumped out of your skin, hitting the house's siding and reaching for your gun before the voice called out again from a dark part of the yard.

"No weapons, please! It's Hicks. Deputy Hicks…Sorry for startling you. Just doing my rounds."

You still couldn't see her, heart racing and mind reeling with how much she heard.

"R-Rounds?" You stuttered.

"Sheriff Riley's orders. Just making sure the killer didn't stick around." She stepped slowly into the light. Her smile and big eyes unnerved you as you watched her. Inching closer to the door as she tilted her head. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your call…Boyfriend?"

You relaxed your shoulders. "Awful situation, more like it. Biggest regret of my life, actually. "

She chuckled. "I had one of those. Now, it's just me and my son Wesley. He's in the same class as Mr and Mrs Meeks kids."

You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding, putting your phone in your pocket. "Look, Deputy Hicks, I apologize for earlier at the station-"

"Don't worry about it. This is scary and you just received not so pleasant news." She eyed you as she started moving closer. "...We went to High School together. Judy Hicks?" She smiled. "We had the same homeroom. I sat behind you and…And well, Stu Macher. We were in the Drama Club too. We were in Peter Pan together. I played a Lost Boy." She paused. "Of course you played the part of…Tiger Lily."

You stared at her, an uneasiness formed in the pit of your stomach at how isolated you both were in the dark yard with police cars slowly leaving and no one watching. Angelina played in your mind as she stared at you.

"I-I…I'm sorry, it was a long time ago and I didn't grow up here. I was only at Woodsboro High for like a few months. So…" You gave with your arms folded as you were now just a few feet from the backdoor.

She stared at you, smile fading before forcing one back on. "It's okay, erhm. You had a lot of stuff going on back then." She softly gave.

You nodded and forced a smile. "Well, it was nice to see you again, Judy. I better head back in after. Well…What happened."

Judy nodded and waved at you. "You too. Lock your doors. I'll just be finishing up around here." She cleared her throat and walked around the side of the house as your smile fell and you rushed inside.

"RANDY!" You yelled, slamming the door. You were more angry at Stu but he wasn't here so Randy Meeks would do. "What the hell happened to the buddy system?! I told you-" You rounded the corner to see Dewey standing in the living room and Randy in front of him. "Oh."

You walked up to them, sensing the tension in the room. You could just tell words were said while you were gone.

Dewey released a harsh exhale. "Damn it, Randy. What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Really? So, you just keep packed luggage near the door on a regular basis?" He sarcastically asked, raising his brows and gesturing to the kids luggage near the garage door in the kitchen.

Randy shrugged with a numb look. "What do you want from me, Dewey? You just saw a girl get mutilated across the street and you think me and my family are staying? Uh uh. No way-" He crossed his arms and threw them to his sides with a shake of his head. "This is one fucked up slasher I'm sitting out."

"Randy, you can't! It's an order-"

"Are you seriously going to arrest me for it? Honestly Dewey?!"

He went to speak again and Gale burst through his front door. "Dewey, we need to talk."

Randy threw up his hands. "Yeah, everybody just invite themselves in announced after a murderer killed my neighbors kid. Love it when people do that."

Gale ignored him, staring up at Dewey with a serious expression. "Dewey, I just got details and-"

"You're not on the case, Gale." He mumbled, walking to the kitchen as Gale threw up her hands.

"Are you kidding me right now?!"

Dewey ran a hand through his hair and lightly smacked the counter. You could tell something was deeply bothering him. You sighed and finally asked. "Dewey…Why are you being difficult about this? Why are shutting everybody out and boxing us all in?"

Gale came up beside you with a hand on her hip and glare at her husband. "Yeah, what she said. What the hell is the issue here?!"

"This isn't!...It's!-" He groaned loudly and leaned forward on the counter. "It's just official police business that we follow procedure here."

"Bullshit!" Gale snapped.

Karla came out of the bedroom. "What is all the yelling about?" Right before Chad tried following her. She stooped down and told him to go back to sleep but he whispered to her. "Mommy, I'm scared."

Randy's face fell with a pained expression as Karla rubbed Chad's arm and told him. "Okay. I'll stay with you and your sister while Daddy has a talk with Sheriff Dewey." She gave a determined look to Randy and then a glare at Dewey before walking away.

Randy turned to Dewey, anger on his face as he hissed out. "My fucking family is not staying here, Dewey! They're not suspects, they're 6 year olds for fucksake and Karla has alibis. They aren't staying here!"

"Randy! Just…" He held out a hand. "Let me think, okay? I can't just go behind my precinct's back."

"Didn't stop you any other time! When did you become such a stereotypical horror movie cop? I'm this close to putting fuck the po-lice on my garage at this point!" Randy huffed.

"May I remind you, Randy, that my officers are guarding you all night and day?" Dewey gave with narrowed eyes and a huff under his breath.

"Oh! You're so right! That is why a girl is hanging from the garage across the street like our friend was?!...No offense, rest Tatum's soul, but I saw that 15 years ago and I know how this ends and I'm not going back!"

You interjected before Dewey could argue with him. "Dewey…We need to talk about this! Olivia was in the garage door…She was shoved in there. Just like…Just like Tatum."

He hung his head as Gale quickly chimed in. "Yeah, that's what I came here for. Dewey, why didn't you mention how Jenny and Marnie were found?"

Dewey raised his head, blinking slowly and taken aback from Gale. Randy and you both looked between the two. You slowly asked. "Uh what?...What is she talking about, Dewey?"

Gale huffed and informed you all. "I'm talking about the fact that those two girls were found inside the home. Both gutted. One tied to a chair with tape over her mouth and her intestines in her lap…Jenny was found hanging from the ceiling fan beam and gutted. 'What's your favorite scary movie?' written all over the fucking walls in blood."

Randy's face dropped and paled and you stared at Dewey as he avoided eye contact.

Gale continued. "That's right. Steve Oarth and Casey Becker…Now…Olivia was killed the same way as…As Tatum. Or at least made to look that way. The killer dislocated her shoulder to shove her through it-"

Dewey finally spoke, marching towards Gale and demanding. "Where did you hear that? "

She gave him a deadpan look. "I'm one of the best reporter's to ever fucking live, in case you forgot that, what with all my housewife duties and little stories I write." She raised her brows and gave a sarcastic grin as she said it before it dropped to a glare. "Besides, I told you earlier, the internet makes everything public. Even police investigations if the right person uploads the info."

Randy's mouth hung open as he looked away. You gave Dewey a disbelieving scowl. "Dewey…Why didn't you tell us?!" You demanded.

"It was official police-"

"Oh fuck off with the police business crap!" Randy exclaimed. "Someone is killing victims like they did 15 years ago and you didn't say anything?!"

"I didn't want you all to panic!"

Randy huffed with a grin. "Oh, that is so nice of you! Because you're right, if I would have known how Jenny died…I WOULD HAVE GOT THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE BEFORE THE SUN WENT DOWN!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, emphasizing every word.

Dewey sighed loudly. "Randy, that's exactly why. You can't just leave. Jenny worked at your store and YN's car was parked there. Now, a murder happened across the street. I can't just let you go."

Randy blinked with an outlandish grin. "Heh, okay, okay. We're all suspects. I get it. Very suspicious activity with me being connected to every crime but guess what? If I'm a suspect; you're a suspect."

Dewey scrunched his face. "Huh??"

"You heard me. It's a trope. Movie cop is actually the killer. It's why no one can leave not because they're suspects but because they are potential victims. He can move around, cover things up, upload to the internet and no one would know any different!" He listed off on his fingers.

Dewey gave him an outraged look. "Randy, seriously?...What would be my motive?" He folded his arms with a curious tone to his voice.

Randy shrugged. "Either you cracked your lid after everything we went through…Or…You found out some dirty secret that has you out for revenge."

You faltered at that.

Dewey rolled his eyes. "Randy-"

"I don't really care about suspects right now, Dewey. I need my family out of town."

Dewey hesitated, shaking his head. Gale rolled her eyes and argued. "Dewey, it's two snot nosed kindergartens and a bank teller. You can see video footage of her at work and timestamps. Besides, she's one small woman."

"Everyone is a suspect, Gale! She could have a partner!" Randy gave him a dirty look at what he was implying as Dewey ranted. "I mean, Randy said Hallie could be Candyman's daughter and she was! So, why couldn't Karla be the killer?"

"Really? Candyman's Daughter? Is that because I'm Black or what, Sheriff? Because in a smalltown like Woodsboro with 75% of the population being white folks; that does not look good targeting me. Especially since I didn't grow up here." Karla raised her brows as she stood in the doorway. "I just got the kids to finally go to sleep or pretend to sleep knowing Mindy; just to I come in here to THAT as the fucking conversation? And please, why don't you all shout louder about the grizzly murders? That really puts kids to sleep."

Dewey faltered and pointed at her husband. "Sorry! I-I'm just saying everyone, and I mean everyone, is a suspect! I didn't say it! Randy did at Windsor!"

Randy gave an irritated look Dewey's way. "It was 98, okay? It was a compliment to her possibly being the killer when Dewey claimed most killers were White Men because Candyman was the only Black Slasher that was very popular for the time and Hallie being the killer would break the mold and have Slasher fans go bonkers as cinemas First Black Female Slasher because she had the motivation right there; fed up by standards from a bunch of Blonde Blue Eyed Sororities which was half true besides Mickey being her secret lovetoy which I DID NOT see coming because he was a freaky film student and by all rights she was a very attractive popular girl. Like, I was in film class too! I was right beside that idiot so…Uh…"

"...Go on." Karla folded her arms and you rolled your mouth and looked away with wide eyes as a reaction to Randy digging his own hole right now.

"I…Uh…I'd rather not?" He half asked and half said with a cringe. He looked flustered and quickly clapped his hands and then pointed at Dewey. "Besides that, Karla could not have snuck past me and YN to go over there and kill Olivia! The back door is right there-" He pointed. "The couch is right there and YN would have seen her come out of the hallway!"

You nodded as Karla just gave all of you an unamused stare.

Gale gestured to Dewey. "Dewey, jesus. Why not just get the woman's place she'll be at? She has two little Meeks running around; she won't get far. So, Randy can give you the address of where she'll be-"

"Uhhh." Randy hummed. "Yeahhh, what if the Sheriff here is the killer? Maniac Cop, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre reboot-"

"Randy." You mumbled. "Just…Get Karla and the kids out of here."

Dewey held up a hand. "No, YN. Begging and using the friendship card is not going to work. Now, darn it! I'm the law here now and I'd like you all to have some confidence in me that I'll do what's best! This situation across the street isn't happening again, least not to anyone here...I'm sorry but this is how it has to be." He gave with an almost hurt expression as you folded your arms and released air through your nose. Dewey adjusted his hat and said. "I'll fix this...This time, I'll make sure whoever is doing this never does it again."

Randy bit his inner cheek but nodded as Dewey walked out the door; telling you all to stay safe. Gale hot on his heels arguing with him.

As soon as the door shut, Randy said in low tones. "...Okay let's start packing and-"

Karla jerked away from him. "No wait...I don't know what we should do but...I think I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?" Randy asked with a tilt of his head.

Karla looked away, sucking in a deep breath. "...I don't know if it'srelated or just an awful coincidence but...Julie is dead."

You stared in shock as you saw Randy blink repeatedly. "What?"

"She's dead, Randy. She died this last Summer."

"What?!" Randy hissed out, eyebrows up as he crept towards his wife. "B-But how? Why didn't you say anything?"

She gave him a frown. "How else do any of us die in these fucked up situations? She was found dead with multiple stab wounds and the killers body overtop of her on the pavement." She sniffed and rubbed at her nose with a begrudging smile. "Girl got a few shots in his ass though. That was my Julie...She got the last laugh, didn't she?" She looked at Randy. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to face it. I haven't talked to Julie since after her and Ray got married. How could I be friends like we were when her hiding a giant secret almost got us killed?" You looked down at that as she continued. "We talked here and there but she went on to art and I went onto finances and she got on medication and married her Highschool Sweetheart and my boyfriend at the time died and...The party scene just didn't cut it anymore and I probably needed medicated too with some other doctor then Mr. Johnny Walker... Then I visited here, tested out those meetings advertised, met you...We just grew apart." She looked down too. "I didn't go to the funeral because I was scared. Scared if I did, maybe that bullshit would follow me again?...Guess it didn't matter." She looked at both of you. "If Dewey finds out or already does know? I definitely can't leave."

You gestured towards her. "But why? You didn't kill her."

"Yeah but my old friend was murdered and now just a few months later murders are happening again where I live? Tell me how they'll handle that."

You sighed and leaned against the nearby wall.

Randy thought a moment and shook his head. "No, no, no. I don't care you and my kids are not staying here! Not right now! You guys cannot be caught in the crossfire here!"

Karla argued something back, telling him to discuss it in the garage in hopes kids wouldn't hear even if you knew they probably heard everything when you felt someone tug your shirt. Looking down to see Mindy and Chad staring up at you. Mindy holding a toy dog close to her chest. You instantly put on a smile and led them to their parents room while Randy and Karla went to the locked garage.

'Damn these thin walls, small house, eager little ears and unable to step out the fucking door.'

They climbed on the bed as you sat down with them. Mindy was the first to say it. "Are Mommy and Daddy gonna get hurt?"

Chad instantly yelled at her. "Stop saying that!"

She argued back. "But it's true! That's what happened to the girl in the house across the street!"

You released a shaky breath with wide eyes. "...Did you see?"

She furmly but slowly nodded. No real fear, too young to comprehend anything other than it was something she shouldn't have seen.

"W-What did you see?"

She fiddled with her fingers. "Cop cars and people and a girl up real high off the ground."

You rolled you lips and sat in between them on the bed. Running your thumb over Mindy's forehead and holding Chad close with the other. "...What happened is not going to happen to Mommy or Daddy or either of you-"

Chad looked up at you. "Or you?...You got hurt." He pointed to a bruise forming on your arm.

You gave him a soft smile. "Nothing I can't handle. See, none of this while happen because I won't let it. And neither will your Mommy or Daddy or Aunt Gale-"

"She's our Aunt? Daddy calls her the mean lady." Chad said.

You gave a shaky hand and cringe. "Eh, kind of. And Uncle Sheriff Dewey won't let it happen either. More than anthing, nothing will happen to you two. I will personally kick serious butt before anything ever happens to you two."

You laid there for a moment. Soaking in the moment with a heavy heart. Seeing them both nestle against as you thought of everything you've done or didn't do and what that meant now...Most of all, what you all were going to do...Especially you.

————————————————–———

"Randy, this is not going to work."

"It has to, YN! Now, it's very simple. The cops are here to watch us, right? Any other morning, Karla would do her normal routine by taking the kids to school then go to her bank job. I would go to the bookstore which is clearly closed right now or the video store. You are the loose canon that no one knows where you would go and the prime suspect " You gave him an annoyed look as he continued. "So, who are they going to follow? The woman driving her kids to school like she does everyday or the two prime suspects that are going the opposite way of town very suspiciously?"

"...How does Karla feel?"

His shoulders sagged. "She agreed the kids need to be as far away as possible no matter what...We'll try to catch up later. That killer is going to strike again and every unit is going to be at the crime scene and we'll get the fuck out of here then."

You and Randy waited in the driveway for Karla to raise the garage door.

You hesitated before licking your lips and quietly telling him. "Ray...I don't know how to tell you this but Mindy saw. I don't know how or when but she saw Olivia last night."

He hung his head with curse. "Goddamn it..."

"I don't think she realizes what she saw just that cops equal bad thing happened and us acting like lunatics last nights doesn't help...Just talk to her. If she starts having nightmares, get her into counseling immediately but she seems more confused than scared."

He firmly nodded, you heard how silent he was and glanced over to see tears in his eyes as he stared at the garage door. You softly spoke and rubbed at his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. I can guarantee you she's more emotionally put together then we are about this situation."

He blinked up at the roof of the car, rubbing a hand over his face. "She's just a kid. I just never wanted them to see this shit outside of movies, ya know? Pinkish red corn syrup here and there on a tv screen; fine. Not in real life...The fucking nightmares and pills and therapy-"

You huffed with a small chuckle. "You are preaching to the choir, guy. I was labeled crazy for years, remember? Probably still am just not as much to my face. Now it's from crazy woman to sadistic fake bitch."

He nodded. "YN...I was joking yesterday, I know you went through a lot more stuff then we did-"

"Shush." You stopped with a smile, patting his shoulder and sitting back. "You're allowed to have trauma too."

"I just never ever wanted it for my kids. I don't even know if I would have had them had I known this shit would threaten our lives again-" He sniffed hard and you patted the console.

"You know I'm a shoulder to cry on but not right now. It's go time, Randy. Think of being a Dad protecting your kids by getting them to safety and focus on that for now."

He furiously nodded, taking in a deep shaky breath and starting his car.

Karla and Randy had kissed each other goodbye earlier even though Randy laughed and told her he'd be at her Mom's before they knew it and the kids got goodbyes too. Chad clung to Randy the most while Mindy tried to reason they'd see him soon even if you saw her lower lip wobble. Neither one of them had ever been without both parents out of town.

You had watched him leave the garage and get in the car in the driveway where you sat. Dewey's Jeep he gave you purposely parked on the curb.

Now, you guys just waited. Once Karla's car was in reverse, he backed up out of the driveway.

"Come on…Follow us. Do it." Randy mumbled as you watched the rearview mirror and Karla left followed by Randy's car behind her. She went towards the school…You guys went the opposite way.

"Yes!" He quietly cheered as they followed you.

You were the look out as Randy took the busiest streets on purpose. "Ray, go through mainstreet and then take a right out onto the freeway heading North. If you take the fast lane and floor it this time of day; we just might lose them."

Randy did just that…You watched the cops follow you, making sharp turns and hot on your tail.

"Shit…I don't think this'll work Randy."

"It has to! Just tell me were to turn that might throw them off." He gave as he quickly weaved and made unnecessary turns. Purposely getting in the lane a semi was in right behind you followed by two cars in the otherlane in front of the cop car.

Randy made the right hand turn on red and down the street you turned around to see the cops put on their sirens and lights.

"What?! Right on red is allowed there!"

"Ray…I think they're onto us. They know we're trying to skip town."

"Shit...Better us than Karla." He grumbled as he sped up a little. Turning down an alley way you pointed out and taking the corners a bit too sharp. Accelerating with the freeway just one more turn away.

"Go Randy! You get past that stop sign and get out on there and we might just get the fuck out of here-" The excitement bubbled in you. You loved Dewey but you truly did not care if you left town. Not with the way things were going.

He saw no one was coming, going to run the stop sign as he only yielded before having to slam on the brakes when another cop car pulled out in front of you both. You gasped, the seatbelt preventing you from going forward as Randy smacked the steering wheel in aggravation. He went to back up but Perkin's cop car from the house blocked you in.

Your faces fell as Deputy Hicks and Sheriff Dewey got out of the car that prevented you both from leaving.

"Oh shit. Here comes the popo and our big brother all rolled up into one major pain in the ass." Randy groaned. "Wonder if he'll think this is funny?" He sarcastically muttured.

You saw the glare Dewey had with his shades on. "Uh…I don't think he's in a joking mood."

Dewey walked up to the window and tapped it as Randy rolled his eyes and rolled it down. "Both of you unbuckle. Mr. Meeks. Step out of the vehicle."

"What? Dewey, listen-"

Before you knew it, Deputy Hicks opened your door, pressed your buckle and grabbed you. You had to force yourself not to hit her out of PTSD backlash these last few years. Dewey grabbed Randy and forced him on the hood of his own car as he protested. "Sorry YN. Skipping town as a suspect to crime is a serious offense…And running a stop sign is serious danger to pedestrians and other motor vehicles. "

You glared at Dewey as Deputy Hicks read you both your rights and you yelled over her, your arms forced behind your back as you shouted. "Dewey if you actually put your fucking job over us I'll never speak to you ever again!"

"Ditto!" Randy snapped, trying to jerk his shoulder away from Dewey with a sneer. "You can kiss Christmas cards and Birthday Gifts goodbye, pal! What the fuck?!"

He seemed unphased before you finally just said it. " Aren't we family? Isn't that what we said we were after Windsor?"

Deputy Hicks went to handcuff you but Dewey finally ordered her to stand down. She hesitated but did so, looking at you. "Just so you know, if you run, I will catch you. Drama Club and Track in Highschool. "

You blew air past your lips and glared at her then at Dewey as he glared back. You walked over to him and Randy as Randy shoved away from Dewey with a huff.

Dewey took off his shades and hissed at you both. "You are so lucky I am risky everything for you two right now! Are you teens still?! You're 30 year olds doing this crap?! I can't believe you went behind my back as the law of this town!"

"Well you didn't give us much of a choice, Dewey." Randy retorted.

" Where's Karla and the kids?"

"School."

Dewey looked suspicious but nodded. "So why are you skipping town?! This is a crime!"

Randy hissed back. "Because there's a fucking killer repeating the Woodsboro Murders or Stab! What the fuck type of question is that?!"

"Just let us go, Dewey! There's no way we were involved in anything and we're fucked if we stay here!" You argued

Dewey put his shades back on and straightened his posture.."Don't be too sure about that…You and Randy are both our prime suspects as of now."

"What? Why?" You demanded.

"Rebecca Walter's was found dead with her throat slit late last night. She was last seen by Deputy Hicks having words with you at Randy's house before you kicked her out."

Your face fell. Blinking as you tried to process what he was saying.

"Oh shit." Randy mouthed. He looked at you. "Just like Gale's old Camera Guy."

"Kenny." You finished. Swallowing hard as Dewey told you both of you were to go to the station immediately.

[beneathashadytree]

Hey! I saw in the rules that you prefer romantic love to platonic love, but it's always worth a try, right? Well, can I get little Levi with a mother-reader who will find him instead of Kanny and give him a little better childhood?

OUR HOME - LEVI ACKERMAN & READER

Warnings : this is purely platonic & familial, mentions of death and grime in general, implied PTSD, this is not proofread, reader is female and acts as Levi’s mother!

Genre : fluff (but some angsty parts)

Word count : 1.2K words

Additional notes : Hi nonnie! Normally I don’t write for female readers, but since the premise in this is quite different I was quite okay with it. I do occasionally write platonic fics, by the way! This request gave me the opportunity to think a while about the possibility of Levi being found by someone with motherly instincts and all the love to give (and I think I cried a little). Hope you like this!💗

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

It was impossible for her to not notice the kid that managed to melt into the shadows on the walls and the corners of the room

After all, he made his presence so scarce that it made him all the more visible, and her eyes couldn’t help but soften at the sight of his lifeless eyes, unblinking as they stared at the ground in front of him

His emaciated figure brought a pang in her chest; a starved, dirty child no more than a few years old, curled in the darkness of a room that reeked of the stench of rot and decay

Speaking to him proved to be fruitless, as he only ever turned his empty eyes to look at her through his long, greasy bangs, without any other sign to show that he’d even understood

Still, when she said that she was taking him away to somewhere safe, there wasn’t much of a reaction from him except for the slow blinking, and the finalized turn of his head away from her as soon as she was done speaking, which was enough to tell her that he had no qualms he wanted or felt the need to express

First things first—she had to give him a long, clean scrub, to determine whether or not the grime and filth had hidden any wounds or illnesses that she should be made aware of

Her place on the surface was a quaint little cottage on the edge of the town near Wall Sina, and she barely had enough space to take a child in

But after having heard from her brother (who’d secretly frequented the brothel at times) that a child had been abandoned in a room where his mother had died all alone, she couldn’t help but take the trip to the Underground and swear to herself that she’d do anything within her capabilities to save the boy

As a simple baker, she didn’t exactly have the world to give in terms of finances and services, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try her very best to take him in

And so, for the first time in her life, she actually invested in a proper bathtub, seeing as she had an inkling that the child—Levi, she’d learned his name was after he’d croaked it out after a few minutes of her probing—wouldn’t have been too keen to bathe in the communal of the town, where all the adult men were

And besides, she doubted he currently had the strength in his arms to prop himself up for longer than a few seconds at a time; a fact that was proved right when he staggered on the way to the dining table after he’d cleaned himself of the dirt that had been caked on his skin

Gaunt as he looked, she couldn’t help but optimistically scoop potatoes and bread onto his plate (though, as was to be expected, he wasn’t able to stomach much after having been starved of food for so long)

Perhaps the trickiest part of the day was getting him to fall asleep at night, after she’d managed to hurriedly set up another makeshift bed in her bedroom with the help of her brother, until she could afford to set up a proper space for him in the unfurnished room she’d been using as a storage space for years

She sympathized with Levi, who must’ve been wracked with nightmares of the past couple of months he’d endured, and must’ve found it difficult to fall asleep

Exhausting as it was to wait for him to tire himself out with his own thoughts, she didn’t mind the wait, and made it clear from the inviting space beside her that she was willing to hear his worries out, should he ever want to confide in her

Though as the days of routine turned into weeks and months, it became clear that Levi simply had little to say in all cases, and showed even less inclination to divulge anything on his mind

She’d been slowly increasing the portions of his food, silently urging him to eat more at mealtimes, and with the rate at which he quietly tried to help around the house, he often ate ravenously after having exerted so much more energy than he’d been used to

Though there was one terrible habit it seemed that Levi had developed, and that was an overwhelming urge to clean himself and keep his surroundings spotless

He’d often scrub his skin raw and red while in the bath, tirelessly try to dust away the shelves even when she herself couldn’t spot a single fleck on the surface, and unfailingly offer to help with the dishes instantly after every meal, though he could barely even reach past the sink

His short stature alerted her to the fact that his malnourishment had probably aided in it, and that was one of the reasons she so eagerly tried to feed him, though she knew it wasn’t very logical

Of course being a baker came in handy, and it soon became a well-loved routine for them to sit at opposite ends of the dining table, with Levi biting into a buttered scone and holding a cup of tea that comically dwarfed his hand

Perhaps the most difficult of all was forming a healthy relationship between them; one where he felt safe enough regardless of whether or not he felt the need to open up his heart

More importantly than anything, she just wanted to make sure that he could feel the affection she felt for him and would always offer him

She would not be deluded into thinking that she could ever replace Kuchel (whose name she found out while mending a tattered handkerchief that Levi had been so adamant in taking care of until it had ripped at the edges), but she could not help but slowly love him as though he were her own

It wasn’t hard to realize that his quietness and nonchalance was only a front; that he was a much kinder kid than he’d ever let on when he was so busy seeming so much older than his years

After all, whenever she fell ill, he was instantly there to usher her into bed with a scowl, though the way he wiped away at her sweat and pressed cool rags onto her forehead showed that he was anything but annoyed

His concern was apparent, and it perhaps was caused by his own lasting paranoia from when Kuchel had fallen ill, but in all cases it showed just how deeply he cared

Levi wasn’t exactly the most polite boy she’d ever seen, but he was good at heart, and exuded a sort of purity that came out in clumsy gestures

Helping out in the house without her ever asking for nor expecting it, a quiet but no less honest thank you after a hearty meal, a bunch of wildflowers that mysteriously popped up in a cracked vase whenever she seemed down; it was clear he’d grown fond of her over time

Though she was barely in her early 30s herself and had never foreseen his presence in the house, she could no longer imagine her home without Levi—and in her tentative praises and careful hugs he’d slowly grown to melt into, she could see that her love had truly saved him from the pits of hell

And really, nothing in the world could beat that incredible feeling of being a mother in all the ways that mattered

Taglist: @blondeboyfriend

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Kloktober 2023: Day 2 - Favorite AOTD Scene

Most if not all of my Kloktober responses are going to include my OC Lucy because I love my sweet summer child and that is currently where the Muse is striking me. <3 This is what would happen if Lucy had been at Ishnifus' funeral with the boys.

Murderface, Lucy, Pickles, Toki, and Skwisgaar were all sitting in a pew at Ishnifus’ funeral, set slightly apart from everyone else. It seemed as though Pickles was the only one who was able to keep it together. Normally, Lucy wouldn’t be like this at a funeral, especially for someone who had been as helpful and kind as Ishnifus through everything that had happened to them. But Lucy had already dealt with flashbacks from PTSD before Roy Cornickelson’s funeral, so after that absolute fiasco and everything else that had been happening lately she was full of nervous energy.

Her leg was bouncing a mile a minute and she was leaned back against the pew with her arms folded across her chest, her gaze ahead but hearing nothing, trying to focus on her breathing. She ran a hand down her face. This wasn’t working. Lucy glanced at Pickles, then glanced around her. She pulled out a weed vape and took a hit, but she ended up underestimating the pull that she took on the pen and started coughing, loud. Trying to cover her coughs and control her breathing was just making it worse, and everyone was starting to stare. She was grateful that Murderface and Toki were currently in the middle of outbursts of their own because at least she wasn’t the center of attention. ‘Thank the gods for small miracles.’

Pickles gave her a look and said, “Auntie Lucy, little help here, please.”

Lucy looked at him, feeling somewhat guilty, and whispered, “Listen Ma, Auntie Lucy’s just trying to hold off and not go do nose candy with a clown right now, I’m losing it.” She didn't mean to get snippy with him. He had to feel as though he was herding cats right now, and she of all people didn't want to be someone who Pickles felt as though he needed to wrangle. She took a deep breath and said, "Sorry, I'm just not ok right now."

He frowned and sighed, he knew better than anyone about her trauma. Pickles just said, “I know,” and squeezed her shoulder briefly before turning his attention back to her other bandmates.

Things seem to calm down even if she was nowhere near her baseline of calm, and she was able to at least stop bouncing her leg. And then Murderface let out the loudest fart with reverb that she had ever heard in her life, and with the weed having kicked in, she started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry,” she tried saying in between laughter. Eventually she was able to calm herself, but everything was quickly turning into a shitshow. And she was still full of nervous energy even if it had dulled down slightly, feeling like she just wanted to crawl out of her own skin. Then she looked up and saw Charles looking down at them. He gave her a look and a beckoning motion with his hand. Lucy glanced at Pickles who looked miserable, but he gave her a little nod. She walked upstairs to where Charles was, grateful to be away from the immediate area of the funeral.

Lucy walked up to Charles with a smug grin on her face, taking in the red robe that he was wearing. Damn, he looked good in red. This was definitely a nice distraction. “Forgive me, Father Offdensen, for I have sinned,” she said, biting her lip.

His lips tugged in a smile in spite of himself. “I thought you were raised Pagan?”

She walked closer to him, “I was, but you know, there’s something about blasphemy that gets ya going when you’re told by everyone around you that you’re going to Hell when you’re a kid.”

He shook his head, smirking, “As much as I’d love to get ah unprofessional right now, I think maybe we should wait for me to take your Confession until after the funeral.” She smirked back at him. They had been using that as a code word for their kinky little get-togethers since when she was in the band early on.

She sighed and said, “I suppose,” in a tone that told him that she didn’t really mind. Lucy leaned over the railing, and Charles stood next to her and did the same. “I’m guessing that you could tell from here that I was losing it.”

“You could have powered a small village with the energy coming off of your leg bouncing,” he said dryly.

She laughed softly, “I’m definitely a bit tense. Thanks for getting me out of the thick of it.”

Charles wasn’t going to tell her about more Prophecy details yet; he’d wait until Pickles got up there. For now, he put a hand on the small of her back, rubbing lightly. She relaxed a little. This was definitely better than doing nose candy with a clown.

[beardedmrbean]

[Huey Zoomer Anon]

You know this whole discourse about established characters becoming shit parents in the sequels or spinoffs in franchises

Leaving it vague to hide the flames

But I been thinking about how people talking about how emotionally neglectful their boomer parents was…was it intentional or was it the society NORM at the time when it comes to upbringing?

Don’t get me started on a lot of boomers who had to grew up with fathers with unknown ptsd…and that rebuilding….wait the civil rights movement too!

Ugh just saying a lot of boomers were in the mess, not to mention the Sex Revolution, the speed run when it to technology advancements.

Also the privilege economy boomers had…okay hear me out…what if…the elite never TAUGHT many boomers how to use it and trick them to do shorts decisions that fuck up everything?

I mean MK Ultra was LEAKED to the public and don’t get me started on how many drugs that wasn’t even properly tested shoved down people throats with birth control pills being shoved down their throats

Also I think a lot of modern writers wanted VALIDATION because they weren’t validated as a child during the abuse I mean

Yeah no one during me hell years from nine year old to eleven gave a DAMN about the abuse I went through my stepmom put me through

I just make sure I carry a loaded gun anytime a white millennial woman with unresolved parental issues are near me.

Oh I’m still bitter, I’m not hero, I would burn the world if I must to get revenge

But the thing I’m 24 and my dad basically confirm he have similar mindsets to that a lot of women like her are going to end up dying alone

Sorry trailed off, but one thing I realized when it comes to my writing, I am a ADULT. So I don’t do one sided narratives in my stories….vs millions of people these days who are incapable to see a different pov or have basic empathy

That why in my father and son duo stories, I point out both pics are valid. The father not perfect, the son not perfect, that humanity

Unless….OH MY GOD HOW MANY PROGRESSIVES HAVE THE NARCISM THAT SURPASS BOOMERS?!

But I been thinking about how people talking about how emotionally neglectful their boomer parents was…was it intentional or was it the society NORM at the time when it comes to upbringing? Don’t get me started on a lot of boomers who had to grew up with fathers with unknown ptsd…and that rebuilding….wait the civil rights movement too!

Friend of mine's dad had PTSD, he'd been a combat medic in Nam, got a lot of shit for how he'd occasionally go nuts, friend was schizo too which didn't help anyone, PTSD wasn't something people really talked about or even acknowledged until friend was in his teens.

I can't even imagine how many people had their lives destroyed by that monster throughout history

Ugh just saying a lot of boomers were in the mess, not to mention the Sex Revolution, the speed run when it to technology advancements.

Not gonna bag on hormonal birth control itself, but ya it did lead to a fair amount of loosening of morals, or at least making that public, for good or bad thing is going to be a individual opinion there.

Also the privilege economy boomers had…okay hear me out…what if…the elite never TAUGHT many boomers how to use it and trick them to do shorts decisions that fuck up everything?

they wouldn't teach that, which not teaching people how to money seems to be a really common thing that's just getting worse and worse as the decades go on, also in defense of boomers purchasing power there was also a lot less to buy back then.

No smartphone with data plan, no internet connection, no 87 different streaming services, and so on.

Bought a TV and the only thing you had to pay for after the initial purchase was the electricity.

But the thing I’m 24 and my dad basically confirm he have similar mindsets to that a lot of women like her are going to end up dying alone

I feel that way about my ex wife, not a abuse thing though just a 'that's how she is' thing.

[little-lego-ninjas]

lightning in a bottle (burning full throttle)

Guess what I just posted on AO3 guys???? Are you excited, because I am! I'm actually really proud of this monster (it's 12.6k words h e l p), and I hope you guys like reading it as much as I liked writing it!

Fair warning, this is filled to the brim with queerness (as a queer myself, I could not resist the fruit ninja), so read with caution ig lmao.

Gun tw, and some minor injuries (somebody gets shot, but it's minor), slurs (not actually written bc i am too soft for it but wanted to include it bc i have had bad race-related encounters lately, and i protect my friends from toxic people as much as possible), ptsd, anxiety, anxiey/panic attack, gender issues, y'know the works.

There's probably a few more i can't think of rn, but all the tags are on AO3 if you feel the need to check! Nothing super insane happens (no weird age stuff or sex), so enjoy!!

AO3 link in case you wanna read it over there or leave a big comment or something i dunno. For you <3.

Fic below the cut bc it's too damn long.

"Okay, have we all got our roles down?" Lloyd asked at the head of the dining room table, papers and maps and blueprints scattered around him. His hair was a mess, blond waves tangled together and falling into his face. No doubt from staying up all night, finalizing and piecing everything together.

Cole nodded, his arms crossed over his chest. "I've got mine."

"I do as well," Zane added, his fingers threaded together atop the table.

Kai sighed before anyone else could say they had everything ready. "Why do I have to go in disguise? Shouldn't we let Zane do it?"

Pixal answered before Lloyd could open his mouth, her green eyes hard. "Kai, we have already discussed why you and Jay are going in disguise. Zane's cloaking software is down, mine is nowhere near the level his is, and Cole is going in disguise too."

She arched a brow at him. "I don't see the issue."

Kai gestured around the table, chest tight. "I'm going to be in a party while Nya, Lloyd, and you," he shot a blatant look at Pixal, "try to stop an assassin."

"Sorry for worrying like a good brother would," he grumbled as an afterthought.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, making him glance over to see who it was. Nya looked mildly annoyed, but mostly sympathetic, which was a good sign. "Kai, you know you aren't just going to a party."

"I know, I just-"

"Get worried." Jay finished, his chin resting in his hands. "We know. But this is serious stuff, me and you are going to protect Cyrus Borg."

When his name was uttered, Pixal looked down at her hands. Zane reached across the table, taking one of her hands. "We will not let anything happen to him, Pixal."

Pixal looked up, nodding. She didn't say anything though. Kai could understand her concerns, considering it was her father that they were attempting to save from an untimely death. Kai couldn’t imagine having to be in her position, and it only gave him more empathy towards her for being so strong about the entire subject. It couldn’t have been an easy thing to listen to, or talk about.

Cole nudged Zane’s shoulder, his expression a mixture of his usual soft one and a slightly more serious one reminiscent of his younger days of leading the team. “Besides, we have more help too. Skylor and some of the other elemental masters, right Lloyd?”

Lloyd nodded, digging through the scattered papers until he could find the one he had written all their names on. “Most of them helped with the resistance, so we’re in good hands. That assassin won’t know what hit them, Pix.”

Pixal pursed her lips, then stood. “Fantastic. I’ll go ensure my weaponry is ready and functional.”

Nya’s gaze followed the girl who had taken up her old mantle, the blue in her eyes holding a depth Kai had begun to notice whenever his little sister looked at Pixal. Nya sighed, pushing her chair away from the table. “I feel so bad for her.”

Zane nodded, his fingers threaded together again, something the nindroid had begun to do after his time in the NeverRealm. “I do as well, but we mustn’t let our worries consume the mission. We cannot fail.”

Cole rubbed Zane’s shoulder. “We won’t, Z. We won’t.”

Zane didn’t look convinced, but he did shoot Cole a smile that the other boy returned. Kai watched them all silently, his chest still tight with the idea of letting them risk their lives while he stayed inside at a party. It felt wrong and like he was slacking off, even though he knew he had an important role to play. A hand ruffled at his hair, snagging his attention. He shot a glare at Jay, who had an impish little smirk on his lips.

“Don’t you ruin this for me, Kai. It’s the anniversary of Borg’s empire!” Jay sighed with delight, earning several eye-rolls that he ignored. “What a legend.”

Kai scoffed, standing up. “Remember that we’re there to protect Cyrus, not party.”

Jay waved his hand. “Duh. Just think it’s neat.”

Lloyd hummed, shifting through his papers again. “Since it’s a pretty exclusive party, I think you two should really dress the part. High-class and stuff.”

Kai grinned. “I have just the suit.”

///

Kai tugged at his tie in mild annoyance, shooting a glare at his reflection. He didn't like the idea of just sitting on the sidelines while everyone else ran around playing hero. It didn't sit right with him to not be in the heat of the matter, but rather going incognito to better blend in.

Granted, Zane was pretending to be the intern who double-checked invitations, and Cole was one of the guards at the entrance, but still. If the news from Skylor handed down to her through the pipeline of elemental masters was true, which it was, Cyrus Borg was set to be a prime target to be assassinated tonight during his company's anniversary party.

Kai wanted to be the guy beating up the assassin, not hiding in a crowd of rich tech-heads, but he had to begrudgingly agree with Lloyd's plan. It was the best course of action, the best set-up to ensure Cyrus Borg and everyone attending the party would be safe. He just hated the idea of his family risking their lives without him beside them.

Heaving a sigh, Kai glanced at his reflection again, tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves. He had to admit, he looked nice. The suit was a bit darker than he would have chosen for himself, but it wasn't too terrible. It was fitted just enough to benefit his shape, but not overly so. His hair was what was bothering him the most, if he was being honest.

Instead of its usual spiked style, his hair looked much like it did when he was wet, falling into his eyes enough to bother him. Kai scrubbed his fingers through his hair again, grumbling under his breath as he did so. Maybe Nya was right when she said he needed a haircut.

"Kai."

Kai met his sister's eyes in the mirror. She was in her gi, only serving to remind Kai of the danger she was about to put herself in. "Yeah?"

Nya's lips twitched, as if she was fighting off a smile. "Have you been brooding this whole time?"

Kai opened his mouth, then clicked his tongue. " No ."

His sister stepped closer to him, turning him away from the mirror. "I know what you're stewing over, okay? But I think you need to see your boyfriend."

Kai knit his brows together. "Is Jay not helping me survey the party in disguise?"

"No," Nya said with a shake of her head. "He's still helping you, but I meant see like look at him because, uh."

Her cheeks pinkened. "He looks great."

Kai snorted, elbowing Nya. "You are such a bi disaster."

"Wha- says the pan disaster!" Nya sputtered as Kai left his bedroom, heading for Jay's.

He chuckled under his breath at the sound of Nya's grumbles, stopping before Jay's door. Knocking, Kai opened his mouth to ask if he could enter, but Jay interrupted him.

"Come in!"

Kai pushed the door open, a smile on his face and words on his tongue, only for his mouth to go dry at the sight of Jay in front of his bedroom mirror. Now, Kai had no doubts in his mind that Jay was attractive- and super fucking adorable -but he'd always seen Jay as pretty, or cute.

Drop-dead gorgeous was not a term he used lightly, and in this case, he meant it as if it was a precious sacred statement by the First Spinjitzu Master himself, which was to say, he was not anywhere close to joking about it. Jay cleaned up nice, and Kai had never really gotten to see it before.

Now though, Jay was fiddling with a silver hoop earring as Kai openly gaped at him, eyes drinking in every inch of his boyfriend. When Lloyd had suggested that Kai and Jay go together as a rich couple, Kai hadn't disputed the rich couple part, but he had figured it would be him and Jay in suits and showing up holding hands or something.

He had not expected to find Jay in a dress.

Not just any dress, no. Jay had found the most beautiful shade of midnight blue to ever exist, the color making his eyes that much more electric and enticing. The dress itself was fitted all the way down to the hemline, going to the top of Jay's toes. It had a sheath neckline, the material lying around Jay like a necklace, forming an upside down v that covered his chest entirely, but left part of his collarbones free.

Where sleeves would be, fingerless gloves of the same material encased his wrist up, stopping at the middle of Jay's biceps, freckled shoulders on full display. Jay smiled at his reflection, fingers playing with his silver hoop earrings before he noticed Kai had stepped inside of his bedroom. Jay's cheeks colored. "O-oh. I thought you were Nya."

Jay turned to face Kai, and Kai got a wonderful view of the thigh-high leg slit the dress had. If his mouth had been dry before, it was dust now. Just the sight was doing something to him, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Is it too much?" Jay asked, fingers playing with each other. "I figured fancy party meant fancy, and this is the fanciest thing I've really got so…"

Kai found his voice when Jay trailed off, looking so defeated that Kai wanted to punch whatever had made him feel that way. Since he was pretty sure he had done that, Kai decided that punching himself before going undercover was a really stupid idea. He didn't want to sport a black eye and draw attention to himself. 

"No!" He exclaimed, grabbing Jay's hands, noticing blue nail polish on his nails, matching his dress. "No, you look… wow."

Jay's blush worsened, his smile a little embarrassed. "I thought you'd think my hair was stupid."

Kai knit his brows, studying the usually messy curls that were in some semblance of order. And they were longer than Kai recalled them being just three hours ago. Curious, he shifted his fingers through the chestnut hair, amazed that the curls stretched down to the base of Jay's neck before springing back up to rest lightly under his earlobes.

"It's beautiful."

Kai cleared his throat when he saw how soft Jay's gaze had turned. "Uh, I mean, not as good as mine, you know. Still good though."

Jay's smile shifted into a smirk. "Uh-huh."

Not wanting to give Jay more ammo than he already had, Kai gestured at Jay's dress. "So, any particular reason for that? Asides to be sexy, I mean."

Jay flushed terribly at that, swatting at Kai's shoulder. "I figured a guy and a girl would be less attention-grabbing than two guys for us going undercover."

Kai must have made a sour expression because Jay shook his head. "No, I made the choice, I'm fine."

Kai pursed his lips. "I know you, Jay. If you look the tiniest bit uncomfortable, we're finding you the manliest suit ever to bash any dysphoria, got it?"

Jay laughed at that, drawing Kai's attention to his face, the way his freckles bunched up whenever he laughed, along with the delicate black lines surrounding his boyfriend's eyes. Jay had actually gone and put makeup on, which Kai hadn't seen in a very long time. Heat pooled into Kai's body, his lips itching to meet Jay's. "I- I'm serious. No dysphoria will ruin your night on my watch."

Jay nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Thanks, but I'll let you know if it gets to be too much, okay?"

Kai sighed, but relented at the lightning ninja's pointed gaze. "Alright, fine. But seriously, if you get misgendered, I might hit someone out of reflex alone."

Jay snorted, moving around Kai to get to his bed. Kai watched him, unsure of what else to say. Another compliment? Jay tugged a pair of strappy black heels out of a box from under his bed. "Restrain yourself, babe."

Kai stiffened at the word, every nerve alight with want. In the end, he was a weak man, a man who just wanted Jay to feel comfortable in his skin, to kiss on Jay and touch him reverently, and breathe promises of love against freckled skin. Kai crossed the room to Jay easily, the lightning ninja still busy putting on his heels.

(Which were also unfairly attractive on Jay, but Kai would circle back to that later.)

Jay glanced up when Kai tapped his bare shoulder, his expression playful. "Hm?"

Kai scowled at Jay, nudging his boyfriend backwards until he could pin him against the mattress. "You know what you're doing."

Jay laughed softly, twining his arms around Kai's neck, fingers playing with his hair. "You look hot too, by the way."

Kai winked, "You know it."

Jay rolled his eyes and Kai locked their lips together, not entirely aware of the world around him anymore. Jay was more important than the world, clearly and obviously. He pulled back only to dive right back in, tongue running along the ever-soft lips of his lover, Jay making a delicate sound underneath him. Kai felt a heel nudge his hip, hands tightening in his hair.

The kiss deepened, Kai's tongue tracing the inside of Jay's mouth, small shocks crossing from Jay to Kai, barely there moments of electricity that made Kai shudder and kiss Jay harder, eager for a bigger reaction. Before he could cross that line, Jay pushed him up and away from his lips a little, blue eyes meeting amber.

"Kai," Jay whispered, lips so pink and plump and Kai really didn't want to stop. "The mission?"

Kai pursed his lips, then kissed Jay again, a soft peck instead of the passionate one he wanted to continue. "After, if we aren't exhausted, I'll pick up where we left off."

Jay nodded, cheeks flushed but his eyes bright with excitement at the promise. "Sounds like a plan."

Kai crawled off of Jay, halting halfway off at the sight of Jay's leg being mostly uncovered from the slit in the dress. Teasingly, Kai drug his fingertips against the soft skin as he finished crawling off of Jay, hearing his boyfriend gasp prettily. Kai adjusted his suit jacket, then ran his fingers through his hair again.

He shot Jay a puzzled glance that was mostly fake. "Are you coming?"

Jay looked breathless, cheeks even darker than before. "You- You fucker."

Kai, unable to help himself, shot Jay a wink as he made his way out of the room. "I do try."

Kai got smacked upside the head with Mr. Cuddlywomp, but hey, it was worth it in his eyes. He needed something good to keep his mind away from the dark thoughts of potential failure tonight.

///

Kai had to gape at the light show that was occurring at Borg’s tower, the building glowing in prismatic colors and holographic words that screamed the reason for the party. He had to admit it was pretty, but with Jay on his arm, it wasn’t comparable in the slightest. Shooting a glance at his boyfriend, he found Jay’s electric blue eyes alight with wonder, his lips shaping words that Kai could barely hear.

“What was that last bit?” He asked, grinning when Jay flushed.

“O-oh.” Jay twirled one of his curls around his finger, nervous. “Just… it’s pretty.”

Kai nodded, nodding towards the line of equally lavishly dressed individuals, pointing Jay in the right direction. His boyfriend was a little overwhelmed by the lights and the people, and Kai was one-hundred percent okay with being the grounding point for him. Quietly, Kai ducked his head to whisper against Jay’s ear as they got into the line. “If you feel bad, let me know.”

Jay nodded, his eyes darting from one head to another, analyzing and categorizing them the way he did. Kai hadn’t understood it at one point in his life, thinking Jay was just easily distracted (which was true), but now he knew it was how Jay dealt with getting overwhelmed. He counted how many other people he might have to interact with, how many blinding lights would flash, how they spoke or reacted so he could match them.

It was how he coped, and Kai could see why. He had done it a couple of times, only to find it very helpful. Granted, he sucked at mimicking other people, but he did try his best if his unhoned skills would be useful. Sometimes he looked back to the time he pretended to be his father and cringed. How Nya had perfectly emulated their mother’s voice was lost on him, but it was impressive all the same.

Turning his attention back to the line, Kai found two security guards only a few people ahead of them. One was a nindroid, the other was Cole. Cyrus Borg was only loosely aware of the threat looming over him when Lloyd had contacted him prior to the party about the lead they had, but he hadn’t disagreed with anything the ninja had suggested they do. As long as they didn’t destroy his tower or harm his guests, the scientist was okay with them playing dress-up.

Kai understood why Lloyd had ultimately decided against telling Borg the entire reason they were attending his anniversary party incognito. If Cyrus Borg knew about the threat, he would cancel the party and force the assassin to try another time, which would leave Borg paranoid and the ninja in the dark about when the assassin would try again. That didn't mean Kai liked withholding information though.

When Jay tapped at Kai’s arm, he felt a brief second of worry, only to find a small smile on Jay’s lips. The lightning ninja was holding back a giggle. “Kai, look behind us.”

Curious, Kai did as he was instructed, almost laughing himself. Directly behind them stood Dareth, dressed surprisingly nicely with an invitation in his hand, holding a conversation with a rather wealthy-looking elderly couple that looked entertained by him. Kai snickered under his breath, setting off Jay’s giggles. “How on earth did he get an invite?”

Jay shrugged. “I think he won the civilian raffle for invitations? He’s like Borg's biggest fan.”

Kai arched his brow. “But baby, I thought that was you?”

Jay’s blushing cheeks were a perfect reward, and he didn’t get a chance to retaliate before they reached security. Kai showed both Cole and the nindroid their invitations, then pocketed them again. The nindroid studied them, then shared a glance with Cole, who shrugged. 

“Hate to be that guy,” Cole started, pushing off of the door jam he had been leaning against, “but I need to check for concealed weapons.”

Kai made a big show of sighing loudly, unlinking his arm from Jay’s. “Oh, if you must.”

Jay opened his purse, revealing a rather nice wallet and some miscellaneous items. “Nothing but my emergency make-up.”

Kai almost jerked his head around at the sound of Jay’s voice, so light and airy. Cole looked momentarily stunned too, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Er, yeah. You’re good.”

The nindroid nodded, gesturing to the open doors. “Please enjoy your evening.”

Kai shot him a grin, sliding his arm around Jay’s waist. “I’m sure we will.”

The entryway had been filled with streamers and balloons, all sorts of people wandering around and laughing together before they headed for the elevators. Before he and Jay could get that far though, their invitations would be checked for authenticity by the intern at the front desk, who happened to be Zane in disguise. It wasn’t as effective as his cloaking device, but he still looked every bit the part of the nerdy guy who ran the desk.

Zane had even modulated his voice to better fit the role, slightly nervous at being handed so much power and responsibility by someone so high above him. “May I see your invitations?”

Kai handed the papers over, feigning indifference while Jay looked around with wide blue eyes. Zane nodded after a moment, “You’re on the list, thank you for attending!”

Jay smiled sweetly and Kai nodded, both of them making for the elevators. The party was held at the top floor, normally Borg’s office but remodeled for a skyline view and filled with hors d'oeuvres and champagne for the occasion. Kai couldn't quite understand how the assassin could get a shot with all those windows, but he wouldn't underestimate the possibility.

He hoped everything was going well on the other end of the mission, and that Lloyd, Nya, and Pixal had managed to get into position with no issues. He wouldn’t be able to check his comm until later, after he could make for the bathroom without drawing suspicion.

When the elevator doors closed, Kai slumped slightly. “Who knew I would already be tired?”

Jay shrugged, a tube of mascara in hand, squinting at his reflection in the elevator’s mirror. “Pretending is hard.”

There was a depth inside those words that Kai wanted to understand, but he decided to broach the topic later. Instead, he watched as Jay messed with his eyelashes, even though they were fine. “Jay?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t be nervous.”

Jay laughed, capping the tube and dropping it back inside of his purse. “That’s difficult for me.”

Kai nodded, taking one of Jay’s hands, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I know.”

Jay rolled his eyes, watching as they climbed floors. “Ready to do some more pretending, hot stuff?”

Kai laughed, pulling Jay flush against him for a split-second, relishing in the closeness before he shifted their positions again, arm around Jay's waistline. “Always.”

Jay was flushed when the doors opened, shooting Kai a dirty look that made him grin. His grin faltered when he caught sight of Cyrus Borg, falling back into mission mode with ease. The inventor was holding a glass of champagne in one hand, laughing with a group of people Kai had seen around the building, no doubt some of his employees.

Kai and Jay stepped out of the elevator, and Kai skimmed the room, mentally labeling anything that could be useful. He faltered at the crowd though. There were so many people all dressed so nicely that it left Kai reeling, so many sparkling bits of jewelry and finery that was foreign to him.

If he felt broke, he had no idea how much worse Jay felt. Kai knew how the lightning ninja got sometimes, wishing he had enough money to give his parents everything they deserved to have. Kai felt the same way sometimes, but he knew it lurked in the back of Jay's head more than his own. After so much time, Jay still felt as if he had something to prove, to show he wasn't just some kid from a junkyard.

Why? Kai wasn't entirely sure. Kai tightened his hold around Jay's waist, getting his boyfriend to look up at him, inquisitive eyes meeting his own.

“Split up?" He suggested, watching Jay closely for any sign of distress.

Jay nodded, nudging Kai towards the table with hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne. “Go be a gentleman and get me a drink.”

Kai bowed playfully, taking Jay’s hand and pressing a kiss to his ring finger. “Of course, darling.”

Jay laughed softly, shoving Kai away. Kai watched him for a second, then made for the table, scanning the faces around him. Any one of them could be the person after Borg, even if they would have had hell getting past both Cole and Zane. He couldn’t let his guard down, not even for getting in-character. To passerby, he would simply look a little nervous, something many people around him would relate to.

The table held more than just drinks and hors d'oeuvres upon closer inspection. It also held all sorts of pastries that made Kai's mouth water. It took more restraint than he had hoped it would to prevent himself from sampling them all. Maybe it had been for the best that Cole wasn't at the party, considering his rather glaring weakness for desserts.

Kai snagged two flutes of champagne, then glanced out at the sea of posh strangers, his heart beginning to thud against his ribs. What happened to his charisma? He could handle this. It wasn't hard, putting on a fake front, he had done it multiple times over the years. Somehow though, the idea of faking for multi-millionaires felt… dangerous.

It hadn't stopped Jay from immediately becoming popular though, several ladies dressed in their own stunning finery had surrounded him, complimenting his dress and asking him questions that he answered easily. Kai pursed his lips, glancing back at the table before he snagged one of the pastries, shifting the glasses to one hand as he placed it on a napkin to take over to Jay.

Jay tended to do better if he felt secure and had someone he cared for close by. Kai knew the pastry would be an added bonus, considering Jay's love of desserts. The champagne was a pretense, something that might be sipped once or twice, but ultimately ignored. Kai scanned the crowd again, plotting out the exact path he would need to make it to Jay.

"Huh, didn't think you'd be here."

Kai flinched at the words, nearly spilling champagne on the floor. His gaze landed on an all-too familiar face, one that made him a little happy, a little angry, and mostly confused.

"Ronin?"

///

Cole tried to maintain his focus as he watched Jay and Kai vanish inside of the building, but it was hard. He had no clue what to expect, and honestly the evening had been borderline boring. It would have been completely boring if the adrenaline from the idea of an assassin trying to kill Borg wasn't at the forefront of his mind, but still. He was growing impatient just standing in place.

He almost choked when he saw who was next in line, Dareth grinning at him before his brows dipped together. Cole watched as the nindroid examined Dareth's invitation, assigning a name with a face, but the brown ninja's gaze remained locked on Cole the entire time. Cole couldn't help but think of the last time he had seen Dareth in disguise, how easily the older man had seen through it.

This time, it seemed, was no different. Dareth snapped his fingers and pointed at him. "Cole! I knew that was you!"

Cole pressed his lips together tightly. "Hey Dareth."

"When'd you get a side gig?"

Cole shrugged, gesturing for Dareth to come closer so he could check for weapons, which he heavily doubted he would find, but protocol was protocol. After ensuring the man was weaponless, he gestured through the open doors to the desk where Zane was stationed. "Have fun Dareth, you're cleared."

Dareth grinned at him, happily crossing the threshold. "Thanks dude!"

Cole shook his head with a small smile. Sometimes Dareth was just the thing that helped them ensure everything went according to plan. Maybe this was one of those times. After all, Dareth was the man who had done everything in his power to help them anyway he possibly could, no matter the risks he faced because of it.

"A hem."

Cole snapped his attention back to the world around him, rather than the one inside of his head. He found an elderly couple sharing aggravated looks between one another, and his nindroid companion looking exasperated.

"Sir, it's only protocol," the nindroid started, only to be cut off by the man, who flicked his hand at both the nindroid and Cole.

"Nonsense is what it is! An over-analytical farce that is as unnecessary as it is uncouth."

The woman by his side nodded, her expression pinched. "We never carry weapons." She said the word as if she could think of nothing fouler in the world, which made Cole bite back a sigh.

While he agreed weapons were a last result form of attack, that didn't mean they were inherently bad. It was a tool, depending on who used the knife made the knife either good or bad. That didn't make the knife inherently evil if it was used to harm someone, but some people just couldn't see it the way he did.

Different opinions were important, but not over something that was simple protocol. Now, if the protocol had the couple stripping down to their underthings? That Cole could see as bad. This was more of a minor annoyance, rather than something truly terrible.

"Sir, ma'am, this is simply to ensure not only Mr. Borg's safety," Cole looked pointedly at both of them, "but also yours."

The man looked downright insulted, tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves. "You have no right to speak to me."

Cole knit his brows, entirely lost for almost three seconds. It hit him when the man's wife moved to hide behind him slightly. A stab of guilt jabbed its way into his chest, even though he shouldn't have felt it at all. It wasn't his fault his skin was darker than theirs, or that he was taller than them, or stronger and more muscular.

It hurt though, to be looked at and only seen as a threat rather than a person too. Even the nindroid looked stunned, but the man continued. "Not only are you going to place your hands upon me and my wife, but you are asking for us to let you do that. My answer is no ."

"Would you change your mind if he was white?"

Cole snapped his gaze back, finding Dareth in the doorway, looking more furious than Cole had ever seen him. The commotion and hold up had snagged a lot of attention, the people in line whispering to each other and shooting glances at Cole. It made him nauseous to have so much attention on him, and not for the first time, he wished he was smaller.

The man looked stunned. "I- what are you implying?"

Dareth stepped forward, moving to stand between Cole and the wealthy man. "If I were the guard, would you listen?"

The man shrugged. "I do not rightly know, since you aren't. I do not feel safe with-"

"Do not say that ." Dareth hissed. "Don't you dare."

Before the man or his wife could speak again, the nindroid stepped forward, his hands raised placatingly. "If you will not allow us to check for hidden weapons, then we must decline your entrance to the building. Deeply sorry."

The man huffed, snatching his wife's arm. "I am as well, for having to deal with that -"

Cole's ears were ringing after the word was uttered, one he hadn't heard in a very long time. It reminded him of the first time he had learned what it meant when he was little, how his mother had clutched him close and whispered that it was just a word while his father raged at the parents of the little girl who had said it. While he didn't remember her name, he remembered her smug face when she had said it.

Almost like she had a right to call him that, to tear him down because he looked different than she did.

The world slammed back into focus when he felt a hand on his arm, the touch that normally would be grounding painful. There were so many voices, all saying different things, and his vision was a blur at best. Cole closed his eyes tightly, trying to breathe, but it felt like he was seven again, trembling when the teacher snapped at him for missing the "very easy steps", the words he muttered unkind and as horrible as what the little girl had said.

It was part of the reason he ran away.

The world around him was falling in and out of focus every time he opened his eyes, so just kept them shut, trying to control his breathing. Everything began to shift though, the loud voices falling away and the touch that had felt like fire now a more bearable presence, one he accepted readily now. He knew he was moving, the hand on his arm a guiding light, but he still didn't open his eyes.

He was almost afraid too, after what had happened the last time he had opened them. He had to get his head back in the game, back into the role he was playing for the mission, but if he opened his eyes and could only see the past, how could he help in the present?

///

Perched on the edge of the roof, Lloyd surveyed the city below and around him, the lights always brighter than needed. They never bothered him too badly though, so he didn't mind them. Better lighting made it easier to track down the villains than poor lighting did anyway. Unable to find anything out of the usual, Lloyd lowered his binoculars with a sigh.

Minus Cyrus Borg's anniversary party happening across from the skyscraper he was perched on, the city was in a normal state of function. Families were eating dinner, shifts were being switched, the neon lights alive with the night and the city they lit up. There was no sign of an assassin who wanted Pixal's father dead for reasons no one had managed to crack.

Lloyd shook his head, turning his gaze down to his sleeve, which he pushed up and out of the way. Tapping twice at the bracelet on his wrist, he watched the holographic main menu pull up, which he swiped through until he found contacts and communications. He double-checked that his settings were correct and ready to go, then he patched himself into the comm network he, Pixal, Neuro, and Nya had thrown together.

"Anyone hear me?"

Several voices answered, little blips showing their positions on his digital map. Lloyd felt a little of his tension ease at the sight, everyone was in position and ready to go. "Give me sights, what've we got on our hands guys?"

Nya's voice crackled to life, her words sure and holding the annoyance that came with her impatience. "Nothing but traffic, it's driving me up the wall."

Lloyd almost laughed, but refrained, recalling that he was supposed to be the leader right now, not Nya's little brother with a bad sense of humor.

"Nothing here, Lloyd," Skylor said, her words carrying an easy flow that he had grown accustomed to hearing.

"Nothin' here either, kiddo." Turner added quickly, not wanting to be the last to speak. The man was rather competitive when it came down to it.

"Karloff has nothing- ah!" Static flooded the line for a second, and Lloyd's feet were already in motion when Karlof said, "False alarm, sorry friends."

Lloyd skidded to a stop before he leapt off of the skyscraper he was perched atop, sighing. "Thanks Karloff. Anyone got anything?"

"Hate to break it to you," Tox said, "but I think your lead sucks."

Lloyd pursed his lips, unsure how to respond. He was almost thankful when Neuro's voice drowned out everyone else's. "I am afraid that the target may know we are onto them," Neuro's voice warned, his tone grave and serious. "I can't read too terribly far out, but everyone within twenty-clicks of my position isn't a threat."

Neuro was just outside of reading Lloyd and probably Pixal, who was driving her car down back alleys and checking for any trace of a threat. She was anxious and doing her best to hide it, and Lloyd could understand the feeling entirely. Hell, he felt anxious just thinking about his own father. With a shake of his head, he detached from that thought. The last thing he needed was to be distracted.

Lloyd sighed again, glaring at Borg's tower across from him, the large windows betraying the exact floor where the party was being held. He could almost make out the faces and people inside of the room without his binoculars, and his chest tightened with anxiety. If the assassin succeeded in killing just one person, they would fail. Lloyd refused to let that happen.

It didn't help that no one had checked in from the tower, not even Zane, who had promised to check in every half hour. It had been almost an hour since the last check in. Surely the last of the guests should have been inside of the party, freeing Zane to help them scout around the outside of the tower along with Cole. It was part of their plan, and Lloyd couldn't act on it if Zane wasn't responding.

They were running out of time, and Lloyd couldn't wait around for Zane and Cole, or Jay and Kai. They were busy with something else, no doubt important. Or their comms had been shut off, or glitching. Maybe they didn't work with Cyrus Borg's fancy Internet servers or something. The point was, Lloyd needed a new strategy, and he needed one pretty fast.

"Pix, get Neuro in your ride." He flicked through his holographic map, finding Pixal and Neuro relatively close to one another. "Help him survey the city for our hitman."

"Affirmative, moving now."

"Understood."

"Lloyd?" Nya asked, and Lloyd could almost see her expression. "What are you thinking, talk to us."

Lloyd opened his mouth, only to freeze. Something had moved behind him, and it wasn't the wind. He made no sudden moves, hoping to keep the other being on the roof thinking he had no clue of the other's presence. He slowly reached for the hilt of his sword, flinching into action when he heard something behind him go click ka-chunk.

"Lloyd?"

"What's goin' on, kid?"

"Lloyd, what was that noise!?"

Lloyd turned just in time to make out a dark-clothed figure with a rifle in hand, followed by a bang that made him instinctively reach for his ears and duck. That was not the right choice when one is holding a sword or being shot at apparently, because something made his world rock, pain shooting from somewhere and making everything blur for a second.

Lloyd forced a breath through his gritted teeth, blearily finding the person across from him reloading, a gruff voice shooting curses rather than bullets. At least he hadn't gotten Cryus Borg. Lloyd glimpsed at himself, finding blood on his upper arm. He could handle a flesh wound. Switching sword hands, Lloyd shouted, "Found him!"

///

Kai was still reeling at the sight of the thief, but he managed to find enough of his words to actually speak. "How did you even get invited?"

Ronin shrugged languidly, nabbing one of the pastries off of the table. "'Invited' is a strong word. Let's go with 'got let in'."

Kai opened his mouth, but Ronin continued on. "Helps if you know your forgeries and the guard at the front entrance, along with the intern at the front desk."

Kai knit his brows. "Why'd Zane let you in if your invite was fake?"

"Because I have some info that might keep Borg alive tonight."

Kai shifted the glasses in his hand slightly, boring his eyes into Ronin's form. "I feel like I should ask you to dump your pockets, but if you actually have something helpful, I'd love to hear it."

Ronin swallowed his bite of pastry, nodding. "There's more than one guy gunnin' to put a bullet in Borg's head. It's a group, as far as I know."

Kai stiffened, the situation far worse than it was moments prior. If there was more than one, that changed the entire mission. "Does Zane know?"

The second the words left his lips he knew Ronin already had told Zane, or else he wouldn't have been let up to the top floor. If Zane knew, that would mean the nindroid could alert Lloyd to the growing danger. "Nevermind, if you're up here he knows."

Ronin studied him for a second, making Kai's hackles raise slightly. The older man nodded towards the crowd. "Who's the dame headin' for you?"

Kai shot him a puzzled glance and Ronin sipped at his own glass of champagne. "Just askin', not trying to steal her from you."

When an arm slipped into his own, Kai knew exactly who Ronin had meant. His boyfriend's cheeks were flushed, and there was a smile on his face, but Kai could feel how tense Jay was against him. Jay offered Ronin a darling smile, then Jay's facade of a rich girlfriend disappeared when his blue eyes found Ronin's, his expression slipping into shock. " Ronin?"

Ronin's eyes widened, then he looked between Kai and Jay for a second. "I- Jay? That you?"

Jay nodded, curls bouncing. "Yeah."

"Damn."

Jay snorted, then beamed at the sight of the pastry Kai was still holding. He took it, along with one of the flutes of champagne Kai had in his other hand. "Thanks, also how the hell did you get in?"

Kai answered before Ronin could. "He had info, Zane let him in, there's more than one."

Jay froze, pastry halfway in his mouth. After a second of debate, Jay bit off the bite, his brows knitted together as he mulled the situation over. He swallowed, tilting his head. "How do you know that, Ronin?"

Ronin sighed. "I'm not in on it, before you even ask because I can tell where this is going. I don't do murder."

Kai was acutely aware of the eyes and ears around them, so he chuckled as if Ronin had made a joke, then dropped his voice to a murmur. "Talk later."

Ronin shot him a wink. "You got it."

Jay nodded, smiling politely at Ronin as Kai led them away from the table. Kai opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted before he could even make a sound.

"Oh! Albie, bring your partner over here!"

Jay's head swiveled around, making Kai follow suit, finding a group of well-dressed twenty-something-year olds. The group looked like a few couples who were all friends, beckoning Jay over. Kai let Jay take charge, ducking his head to whisper, "Albie?"

Jay smiled awkwardly. "Fake name," he murmured, but something in his tone indicated it was more than that.

Kai wasn't entirely sure what was said after that, or who was speaking to him. All he could hear was the little wobble in Jay's voice when he had said it. The way he was acting as if nothing was out of place, as if he wasn't a boy pretending to be a girl, falling back into his repertoire of jokes and fronts to hide any of his true feelings from the world.

Kai could feel his temper flaring, but he wasn't upset with Jay. Downing the last of his champagne, he ducked his head to whisper against Jay's ear. "I'll be back in a minute."

Jay smiled at him, and then shoved him off. "Oh, get lost already, you'll be back in like two minutes!"

Kai laughed, but his heart throbbed in pain at how Jay had fallen back into that airy voice, so delicate and so unlike himself that it hurt. Kai made his way to the bathroom in the corner, making sure it was empty before he locked the door. Shoving his sleeve out of the way, he tapped at his comm. "Lloyd? Nya? Anybody?"

"Hey, hot stuff," came Skylor's slightly labored voice. There were shouts in the background, making her voice difficult to hear through the din of battle. "How's the party going?"

"Guess you know about how there's more than one guy now, huh?"

A shriek, followed by Skylor's muffled laughing. "Oh, you bet ."

Kai chewed his lip, then glanced around the bathroom. "Do you need backup?"

"Zane and Cole should be here in a minute, I think you and Jay need to focus on Cyrus Borg. We have no idea how many-"

" Sky !"

A shink of metal, ending with Skylor calling out a thanks. Kai closed his eyes for a second. "Please be safe."

"I'll try."

Kai closed the line, mind whirring with options. It was then he realized that the comm hadn't exactly been quiet. Someone surely would have gone to check if anyone was being murdered. Kai unlocked the door, eyes going wide when he registered the shrieks and shouts of alarm. Kai dashed out of the bathroom, finding the window shattered and people with guns moving through the partygoers, a flash of green darting after them.

The sight alone was alarming, but finding no sight of Cyrus Borg anywhere might have been more so. Kai slammed his fingers against his comm, tapping furiously until he managed to hit the right numbers on the digital keypad. “Ninjago City Police Department, what’s your-”

“Borg’s tower, top floor, armed and dangerous individuals attacking, send help!” Kai didn’t wait around to hear the response, diving head-first into the fire of battle, heart thundering inside of his chest. He hoped Jay was okay.

///

Zane turned to Cole, who had been sitting in the office chair that had been Zane's to begin with, but was offered when Cole had started to fall apart. After admitting the last guest, Zane knew it was crucial to proceed with the next phase of the plan, but he couldn't just ignore what had happened with Cole.

It was difficult to have such a righteous sense of morals, torn between saving Cyrus Borg and saving Cole, both from vastly different things, but both important in their own ways. Zane shot a worried glance at Dareth, who had stayed beside Cole the entire time, helping the earth ninja remain calm while Zane all but speed ran the last invitation background checks.

He still ensured they were done correctly, but still. He had moved fast. Dareth smiled at Zane, nodding towards Cole as he stood up. "I think I'm going to head upstairs, hope you guys work everything out."

Cole mumbled something, no doubt a show of gratitude for what Dareth had done. Zane voiced his own gratitude, taking one of Dareth's hands. "Thank you, you did not have to do that."

"That's the thing, kid." Dareth patted Zane's hand, something in his expression sorrowful. "I really did have to."

Zane watched his friend head for the elevator, then turned his entire focus onto Cole, who hadn't looked at him yet. "Cole?"

Cole hummed, but otherwise was unchanged in his position. Zane pursed his lips, then knelt down before Cole, placing his hands on Cole’s knees, catching his attention. “Darling?”

Cole’s cheeks pinkened slightly, which Zane took as a win considering it was a reaction. “Z?”

Zane nodded, ducking his head a bit to meet Cole’s gaze. “Yes, Cole. It’s me.”

Cole pursed his lips, then shook his head slightly. “Sorry for shutting down, I-” Cole sighed, cutting himself off. “I don’t know what happened.”

Zane didn’t like that answer, so he stood up, feeling Cole’s eyes on him. “What happened was you were treated poorly, and reacted the way anyone would in that situation. It was wrong and rude, and I am happy it did not require a physical fight.”

If Dareth hadn't intervened, Zane would have, and he was pretty sure one of the outcomes involved a version of himself he had tried to bury. He couldn't help but wonder if Borg needed some very realistic ice sculptures in the future.

Cole sounded tired. “But, I just-”

“You got upset, and when you get upset you shut down.” Zane turned to look at his boyfriend again. “It is how you function. You cannot blame yourself for that.”

Cole opened his mouth, but Zane covered it with his hand. “Correction, I will not allow you to blame yourself.”

Cole’s lips moved into a smile against Zane’s hand, his eyes locked onto Zane’s. After a moment, Zane removed his hand from Cole’s lips, only to have Cole reach out and snag his hand. Cole pressed a kiss to his inner wrist, making Zane flush himself. “Thanks, Zane.”

Zane cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we should con-continue with the mission.”

Cole looked much happier, as if making Zane flustered was a mood booster. Perhaps it was. Whatever the case, Zane forced himself to refocus on the current issue at hand. He and Cole would talk more after Cyrus Borg and his guests were all declared safe. Zane was not about to let Cole just shut down the topic and never bring it up again.

It was a nasty habit his boyfriend harbored, and it broke Zane's heart watching Cole continuously shelve his agenda for the sake of others, but never take any time to deal with what he had shelved. Zane suspected it was from how he had been raised, which only served to make him feel sadder anytime he thought about it.

Zane rolled back his sleeve, unable to meet Cole's eyes as he spoke. "We should check in with Lloyd, then follow through-"

A crash shook the building, making Zane stagger into Cole, the pair of them falling against the office chair, which cried in protest at their combined weights being forced upon it. Zane shot a worried glance up at the ceiling. "What do you think that was?"

Cole copied Zane's motion, his eyes flicking upwards before they landed back on Zane. "Probably the guy who wants Borg dead."

Zane bolted to his feet, pausing for a second when he realized where he had been sitting was not the chair. Rather, it had been Cole's lap he had been resting upon. His face felt far too warm, as if his cooling units, along with his elemental power, had left him. He allowed himself a second of flustered shock, then shoved the emotions out of the way.

Zane leapt over the front desk, using spinjitzu mid-jump to change into his gi. When his feet hit the floor, he was fully geared up, Cole landing a second after him, dressed accordingly. Cole flipped open the comm channel, chaos sounding. "Uh- Nya? How's it going?"

A shout followed by a pained grunt was the response, making Cole and Zane share worried glances. While Cole tried to get a response on his end, Zane tapped directly into Pixal's comm. "Pixal? What is happening?"

"Zane! Get to the top floor now. "

Zane flinched at her tone, chest tightening with worry. He tugged Cole's arm, already moving. "Heading up, but-"

"Lloyd's got six or- or seven- they're all armed -"

Her voice slipped out of range, leaving Zane panicked. "Pixal!"

Cole's comm chose that moment to send a voice through, Nya's usually collected voice left in stressful tension. "Get Borg outta there!"

Cole broke into a sprint for the stairs, Zane right beside him. As they flew up the steps, Zane could only hope his brothers could handle the chaos before back-up arrived.

///

Jay ducked when artillery fired, tugging down the people closest to him. "Dammit," he muttered, peeking over the overturned table to try and get a read on positions, only to find a gun in his face, making him yelp. That was the wrong move, the owner of the gun lowering the muzzle, their face hidden by their ski mask. Jay watched the mask move though, and knew the thug was smiling.

Major ew.

Jay did his best to play the panicked rich person, but it was difficult when he could have the guy disarmed in seconds. Kai wouldn't hesitate the way he did, he would have already knocked the guy out and moved to the next lethal target. Kai didn't play a role when he was needed, he didn't sit and wait for the action to come to him.

But Jay wasn't like Kai, he wasn't out to the world. People saw the lightning ninja and said he was a man who could wield lightning, that he was funny and friendly. They didn't know he was trans, they didn't know he hid himself everyday or battled against his reflection continually. Jay wasn't brave enough to even think about coming out to the entire world, and if he disarmed the gunman before him, he would.

So he stayed still, heart beating against his ribs. The thug's eyes drifted to his lips, then the gun was in Jay's face again. "Get up."

Jay swallowed and did as he was told, nervous. His words were failing him, and for once, he couldn't think of anything to say. The gun was pressed under his chin, jerking his head upwards to meet the other person's eyes, which twinkled with mischief. Those eyes then drifted lower and lower, tracing Jay's shape as if he wanted to touch him. The thought made Jay light-headed.

He could almost hear the hearty laughter of pirates, the silky voice of a djinn, the constant hum of The Misfortune's Keep. Jay squeezed his eyes shut, but that just made it worse, phantom sounds shifting into memories that shouldn't exist, but they did and they scared him. Jay forced his eyes open, chest heaving as he tried to gulp down a breath, making himself count anything.

The gun went flying and Jay counted how long it flew. Four seconds. He turned his attention back to the owner of the gun, finding them unconscious on the floor, Kai standing over him. Kai turned to Jay, and Jay burst into tears, unable to stop the flow. Kai hadn't been on the ship, he hadn't been there, he was here. He was real and alive, not a timeline that never existed.

Kai's arms were around him, his voice gentle. "Oh baby, no I'm sorry I wasn't listening. I'm sorry."

Jay realized Kai was responding to his words, which had finally come back to him. He was apologizing, no doubt for being so scared and useless and-

"Jay no, you're so brave, stop."

Jay sniffled against Kai's shoulder, then shoved him back, panicked. "Wh- Cyrus Borg!?"

Kai pressed his lips together just as the stairwell door flew open, Cole and Zane dashing in. Jay suddenly realized that the threat had been neutralized while he had spiraled, Lloyd standing a bit behind Kai. When their eyes met, Lloyd waved. Jay waved back, sniffling. Zane made for Lloyd, immediately asking him questions, while Cole made for him and Kai.

Cole's arms wrapped tightly around him, and it took all of his willpower not to cry again. Cole pulled back, then yanked Kai in for a tight hug too. "You guys are okay, right?"

Kai nodded. "There's a few wounds, but nothing grievous. I got 9-1-1 punched and dialed before I went to bashing heads."

Lloyd then joined the conversation, asking what Jay had a moment ago. "Where's Cyrus Borg?"

Kai looked torn between smug and upset. "Ronin took him out while me and Jay were running survey."

Jay gaped, then snorted wetly. "Sounds like him."

Lloyd looked lost. "Ronin? Why was he here?"

Cole shook his head. "Who cares as long as he helped?"

Zane looked the tiniest bit sheepish, and Jay shot him a smile, knowing that feeling all too well. Zane had let Ronin up, and Jay wasn’t about to snitch on him. It had served to help in the end, and that was what really mattered. Instead, he straightened his dress out a bit, still feeling the phantoms of other hands against his skin, even though it wasn’t real. “Where’s everyone else?”

Nya chose that moment to fly in through the window, landing right beside Lloyd with a flip. She glanced around then took her hood down. “Uh, am I that late?”

Lloyd giggled. “A little bit, yeah, sorry.”

Nya groaned and Kai laughed. Jay found himself grinning too, relieved to be done with the chaos of the evening.

///

Lloyd had never been so done with people in his entire life, which was saying a lot because he despised big crowds all vying for his attention at the same time. This situation wasn't any different though, which only served to heighten his already overly tense mindset. He needed a minute to collapse and regroup, not be thrust into more crowds and answer more questions.

How Gayle had even shown up before the ninja had left was beyond him, but then again, Cyrus Borg's anniversary was a pretty big deal, so maybe she had already planned to cover it on the news. The other newscasters though? They had definitely only shown up because of the disaster that had struck during the party, getting witness reviews along with the police.

Lloyd had hoped to avoid the microphones and the probing questions altogether, but wearing green tended to stand out a bit too much to most people, considering the color was correlated with him now.

"Were you aware of the threat beforehand?"

"Why were these gunmen after Mr. Borg?"

"Were they all captured?"

Lloyd opened his mouth to answer one question, only to be thrown off by another. He was tempted to ask them to take turns, but he was pretty sure his voice would be drowned out by their own questions, their voices loud and demanding his attention. He couldn't give it to them, however, not when his team was tending to the finer details while he played newsfeed.

It didn't help that he couldn't answer half of the questions anyway, since he didn't know the answers. He didn't know why the men were after Borg, other than the hunch of them wanting to throw his company into chaos. He wasn't sure how many were involved to begin with, so he didn't know if they had all been captured. Sure, he was aware of the threat beforehand, but that really didn't mean much.

The questions started to blur together, the voices melding into one annoying hum that made him tempted to flee the scene entirely. But he couldn't do that, he was the green ninja, he was a beacon of hope and everything good in the world.

At least, that's what everyone said.

A gruff voice cut through the din, the police commissioner moving between Lloyd and the reporters. "Alright, you had your fun. Now please stand back ."

Gayle narrowed her eyes. "I am only trying to ensure the people are aware of any danger."

The commissioner didn't look too impressed. "We have taped off Borg's tower for security reasons. You are crossing the boundary. For your safety, stand back."

The reporters grumbled for a moment, but eventually backed up to the sidewalk. The commissioner adjusted his lapels, then turned to Lloyd. "I hope that helps."

Lloyd nodded. "It does, thanks. But I really don't have a lot of answers, and no one will until we interrogate the criminals."

"Exactly." The commissioner adjusted his hat. "News can't have news until the truth is out. I don't know why they try to rush things."

Lloyd shrugged, regretting the motion almost instantly because ow. He forgot he'd been shot at, and maybe even successfully struck with a bullet. He would have to get Zane to look at him later. Speaking of, Lloyd stood on his toes in an attempt to see over the crowd, trying to spot his team anywhere. He found Skylor's burst of red hair, which he decided would be a good start.

"Is everything under control, Commissioner?"

The old man nodded. "If you and your ninja are needed elsewhere, go ahead. We have the gunmen taken into custody, and Cyrus Borg is safe and well."

Lloyd smiled. "I'll have to thank Ronin for that."

The commissioner looked torn between respect and like he had eaten something very sour. "Yes, I should too."

Lloyd offered the commissioner a wave, then made his way through the crowd. He was slowed down by police escorting party guests out of the way, several of the guests breaking away and thanking Lloyd profusely for his efforts. Lloyd did his best to smile and keep going, but there were so many that he started to feel trapped. It felt like every single guest was out to thank him personally.

Lloyd darted his gaze around, realizing he was all but surrounded by thankful guests and disgruntled police officers. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure they could all hear it, and he knew he must look far too pale because he felt dizzy, like he might pass out. That wouldn't be very green ninja-y. Someone would take a video and post it, and then he'd be a meme forever, a joke.

Just a kid trying to save the world, passing out from… anxiety? Stress? Claustrophobia? He had no clue, actually. Something.

"Hey, hey."

Lloyd blinked when something moved in front of him, a wall of muscle and a sleeveless gi before him.

"Let's not suffocate him, yeah?" Cole said to the crowd, shooing them back a bit.

He took Lloyd's arm (not the injured one) in his hand, leading him away from the crowd, toward the rest of the team, who were all by the police cars. Lloyd let himself breathe a sigh of relief at the sight, the elemental masters and his family all getting along well and congratulating everyone on a job well-done.

"Thanks Cole," he said softly. "I didn't mean to just stand there."

Cole stopped walking, and turned to face him. He offered Lloyd a smile. "We've had a pretty crazy night, stress'll really mess you up. I'm happy I could help."

Lloyd nodded, then kept going toward the police cars. "You all did great."

Toxikita rolled her eyes. "Of course we did, we aren't losers."

Kai snickered. "Yeah."

Zane rushed forward at the same time Nya did, both of them zeroing in on the red coloring his green gi. "What is that?" Zane asked.

"Who's blood is it?" Asked Nya, her eyes searching his face for an answer.

Kai gasped softly, then rushed forward too. Lloyd did his best to hold back a sigh, already tired of the eyes on him. "Guys, yes it's mine, I'm fine."

Cole knit his brows, concern etched onto his features. Jay wasn't any better, his big blue eyes shimmery with worry. The rest of the elemental masters didn't look much better. Pixal was by Nya's side, her green eyes laser focused on his arm, no doubt scanning him for damage or something. Unable to handle the upsetting looks any longer, Lloyd backed up a few steps.

"Let's just call it a night and go home!"

He tried for a happy tone, but it came out strained, anxious sounding. He winced at the sound, trying again. “Look, let’s just go home.”

Nya pursed her lips, looking like she was about to say something when Pixal stepped forward, pointing to the entryway of Borg’s tower. “My father is inside with Ronin, and I would like to ensure he is well before I return to the monastery.”

Lloyd nodded, waving her off. “Go for it. Message if anything goes weird.”

Pixal smiled, then glanced back at Nya for a second, then looked away. Nya sighed, then rubbed Lloyd’s uninjured arm. “I’ll stay with her.”

Kai opened his mouth, then shook his head. “Yeah, go on sis.”

Nya jogged for a second to catch up with Pixal, the pair of them sharing soft smiles before they vanished inside of Borg’s tower. Cole scrubbed a hand through his hair, then turned to the other elemental masters. “Thanks guys. Head home, okay?”

Skylor nodded, shooting Lloyd a smile. “Be safe guys.”

Karloff made certain to hug them all before he left, leaving Jay gasping as he always did. Everyone else simply left with waves or well wishes, heading home after the evening of fighting. Lloyd couldn’t blame them because he felt three seconds away from collapsing entirely. He couldn’t do that though, so he forced himself to stand upright. “Let’s go.”

“Lloyd,” Jay said. “Maybe you should sit for a second?”

Lloyd shook his head, typing into his comm to bring his car over. “I’ll be fine.”

Kai shook his head, snatching Lloyd’s arm. “I’ll come with you then.”

Lloyd sighed, but nodded, too tired to even argue with Kai. He just wanted to be home.

///

Zane sighed softly as he dug through the medical supplies in the monastery, feeling Cole’s anxious hovering more than seeing it. The Earth Elementalist wasn’t even inside of the med bay, yet Zane couldn’t shake his presence. Perhaps his sixth sense was just deeply attuned to his surroundings today. (Pixal would laugh at him and say it was because he liked Cole, quite a bit actually, and Zane would quickly find a way to reroute the conversation. She was far too good at teasing him, and he was starting to wonder if she secretly enjoyed making him flustered.)

“I have brought the tea,” Master Wu intoned, drawing Zane’s attention towards him. He watched as the old master handed his nephew the cup, his expression torn between conflicting emotions.

Zane understood the feelings well, he was very proud of Lloyd, but he had gotten shot and didn’t think he needed to tell anyone about it. He was never exactly not worried about Lloyd, not after everything the poor boy had been through, but he still hated to think too much about the reasons behind Lloyd hiding injuries. He wondered if there was a way he could phrase a conversation that wouldn’t cause the blond to build higher walls.

Lloyd smiled at his uncle, “Thanks.”

“Master, could you go see what we have in the kitchen for a meal?” Zane asked, if only because it had just crossed his mind. “Even if it is something quick and easy we need to eat before bed.”

“Of course,” Master Wu said, patting Lloyd’s knee before he left the med bay.

Zane did his best to appear calm and like he didn’t want to ask any questions that could rock the already rocky state of Lloyd’s mind, but unfortunately, he was glaringly obvious to literally everyone else. That sadly included Lloyd.

“Zane, just spit it out,” Lloyd grumbled, sipping at his tea slowly, cringing after every sip. “I know you’re upset with me.”

“Not with you,” Zane quickly soothed, setting his medical supplies down beside Lloyd, picking up the scissors so he could get to Lloyd’s arm. “Just that you got hurt. I am sorry you got wounded, not mad at you.”

Lloyd arched a brow, looking strikingly like his mother. “Really? I figured you’d be upset that I didn’t mention I was wounded.”

Zane huffed out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Well, not exactly. I admit to a bit of anger about you trying to brush off your injury, but I expect it from you. You’ve never enjoyed the med bay.”

Lloyd stuck his tongue out teasingly, and Zane laughed as he cut off Lloyd’s sleeve. The younger ninja mourned his gi, watching Zane fold up the ruined sleeve with a sort of detached sadness. “I liked that sleeve, damn it.”

“Hey, no cussing in front of Zane,” Cole said, stepping into the med bay. “He’s sensitive.”

“I am far older than either of you, I have heard much cursing.” Zane set the scissors down, moving back to the medical supplies, gathering the cleaning liquids. “I just choose to use it sparingly, to further showcase my intelligence to others.”

“He just called Kai stupid in like five languages,” Cole stage-whispered to Lloyd, who broke into a fit of giggles.

Zane smiled softly at Cole, silently thanking him for boosting Lloyd’s mood with a well-timed wisecrack. Cole smiled back, returning to heckling Lloyd until the blonde could scarcely bleed. He was so distracted by Cole that he missed Zane cleaning and bandaging his wound, which was better for everyone involved. Lloyd wasn’t a bad patient, but he was…

Zane would say traumatized by his many, many, many runs into the med bay from normally near-fatal injuries. Or comas. The poor guy had been through a lot.

“All done,” Zane said, patting Lloyd’s knee to get his attention. “You can go.”

Lloyd looked mildly confused, then he grinned. “Cool. I’m gonna go call Nya and Pix, make sure everything’s still good.”

Cole waved as Lloyd left, turning to Zane the moment the door was closed. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Zane balked, in the midst of putting the med kit away. “Oh? About what?”

There were certainly many intriguing topics they could discuss, anything pertaining to the evening, or maybe something entirely different as a palate cleanser. To be honest, Zane had no clue what Cole was going to ask. He was unpredictable sometimes, despite his steadiness.

Cole rung his hands together, leaning awkwardly against the examination table. “Uh, I was wondering… Well, maybe hoping, I guess, if you’re cool with it, of course! If you would like to, uh, shit.”

Zane watched as Cole dug himself into a stuttering hole, voice going lower and quieter as he tried to talk to himself. It was cute, in a silly way. “Darling?”

Cole flushed, jaw clicking from the force he shut his mouth. Zane rolled his eyes, putting the kit away so he could take one of Cole’s hands. “I would enjoy snuggling, if that was your suggestion. Perhaps a movie to wind down?”

Cole beamed brightly, and Zane knew he had understood exactly what the Earth Elementalist was asking. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

The moment was destroyed when Lloyd threw the door open, panting. “Guys! Uncle Wu’s trying to fucking cook .”

( Somewhere nearby, Kai had an aneurysm at the feeling of his baby brother cussing. )

Zane felt faint at the mere thought, and Cole actually shuddered. “Oh hell no, Lloyd stop him!”

Their fearless leader made a pathetic whimpering sound, dashing back down the hall. Cole was right behind him, shouting orders. Zane hadn’t personally eaten any of Master Wu’s cooking, but he knew Cole had lived with him before anyone else had, and the experience was apparently… an adventure , to say the least.

Then Zane recalled Cole’s own culinary skills and fell over laughing, unable to stand any longer. The irony was not lost on him, and that made everything even funnier.

///

Jay stretched, flopping back against his bed with a sigh. It was far too late at night, somewhere between three and four in the morning, but he was over the world. He couldn’t sleep though, which was really annoying. He rolled onto his side, tucking his arms under his head, staring at the wall. He really should be sleeping, but he just couldn’t get his mind turned off.

He grumbled under his breath, sitting back up, resting his hands in his lap. With another sigh, he climbed out of bed, bare feet silent as he walked over to his dresser. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well just start his day, right? That sounded right to him anyway. Jay tugged out a shirt and pair of sweats, then paused for a second.

Should he wear his binder too? Jay chewed his lip, torn. He didn’t really feel terrible, but he knew he’d circle back to the more traumatic moments from last night, and then he’d really want his binder on. He grabbed it too, heading for the bathroom. Since it was so early, no one else would even be awake yet, unless they were struggling too, so he could have his morning rather peacefully.

He stopped when he spotted Kai leaving his bedroom, the fire ninja running a hand through his messy hair. Kai stopped when he saw Jay, knitting his brows. “Hey, babe?”

Jay jerked his gaze to the floor, clutching his bundle of clothes tight to his chest. “H-hey.”

Kai moved to him, gently ruffling his curls. “You okay?”

Jay shrugged. “Was gonna shower.”

“You feeling bad?”

Now how did he answer that? Sure, he didn’t feel fantastic, but he didn’t feel like trash. Maybe. Ish.

“I don’t know.” He eventually murmured, unable to meet Kai’s gaze. 

Kai solved that issue by gently lifting his chin upwards, his soft amber eyes meeting Jay’s blue ones. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Jay blinked quickly, trying to stop the overwhelming feeling of tears. “I- I don’t know?”

“Okay, that’s fine.” Kai pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Go shower, I’ll make you something to eat.”

Jay nodded, staying still and rooted in place until Kai was out of the hallway. He sucked in a deep breath, forcing his feet to move forward across the floor. It was only a shower, he could do a shower. Kai was being nice too, offering to make him breakfast when he didn’t even have to, so why did he feel so anxious? It wasn’t like Kai would dump him for being trans, because they already had that conversation ages ago.

Maybe he felt so anxious because of how he had pretended to be a girl last night, dressed and looked the part. At the time, he didn’t feel bad about it, but looking back at it, how could he have been so stupid? He knew how he did with crowds and so many eyes on him, but he still made sure to put on a show for them all, so they’d pay even more attention to him. Had they all known he was faking it the entire time, but they didn’t want to say anything and offend him?

Jay sniffled, swiping at his eyes. They probably had known, and all the whispers behind their hands had been about him. There was no doubt about it. Someone had probably figured out who was too, and posted it online and then there’d be uncomfortable questions about him being trans and then he’d have to confirm or deny the claim and then the world would flame him or- or want him deemed unfit to protect Ninjago or maybe even want him dead-

“Jay, Jay, hey, look at me okay?”

Jay flinched at the sensation of fingers on his arms, jerking backwards and away from the touch. Something slammed into his back, making him drop his clothes on the floor, the world swaying wildly around him. “I- I’m- I didn’t-”

“Jay, it’s okay. You're okay. Can you tell me where you are?”

Jay squeezed his eyes shut. “M-monastery?”

“That’s right, that’s good Jay.”

Jay sucked in a breath, forcing himself to focus on anything. The pressure of someone holding his arms, the pain in his chest as he forced his lungs to breathe, the rough wood against his back and the dull ache in his spine from hitting the wall. There was so much, but not enough, and he could feel his body losing control, falling down into the spirals he tried his best to push away until he couldn’t anymore. He shouldn’t be like this, all shaky and scared, he should be better.

He had saved the world countless times, so why couldn’t his body and brain get with the program and fucking like each other?

“Jay?”

Jay swallowed as best as he could, slowly lifting his gaze from the floor (when had that happened?) to meet pretty amber eyes flooded with warmth. “Hi.”

Kai smiled softly, running his thumb over the swell of Jay’s cheek. “Hey there.” The Fire Elementalist was so gentle, his normally brash and bold actions gone, replaced with a softness that made Jay melt into his touch, sighing quietly. “You need anything?”

Jay nodded against his hand, pushing himself closer to Kai, relishing in his comfort. “You’re good.”

Kai laughed softly, brushing a hand through Jay’s curls. “Alright, we’ll stay put for a minute.”

Jay buried his face in the crook of Kai’s neck, content and for a few minutes, happy right where he was. He wasn’t needed anywhere, he didn’t have to do anything, no one was watching him. It was just him and Kai, and Kai was so warm. Jay loved it, cuddling tighter, enamored by his boyfriend.

He’d be okay.