#even if him and Jimmy were gone too quickly to see it through. or to see it withstand

[canarydarity]

I can’t stop thinking about (mczu) etho and the ranch. He knows theres a tragedy there—likely more than one. He knows the occupants did not make it. He knows there’s a stain on the couch and the carpet too dark to be anything but blood.

But he doesn’t know that it was built by those boys whose lives he’d spared, the ones he found hiding in that closet. He doesn’t know the stain on the couch was SCAR. He doesn’t know it’s where Scar died!! Where grian had to— !!!!!!

He ends up there and he mourns its occupants, because he doesn’t need to know what happened to them to know that they didn’t make it. It’s displayed clearly in the used sheets on an unmade bed, the stack of firewood by the unfinished fireplace, the notebook with the torn out pages abandoned on the coffee table. There’s too much domesticity, not enough paranoia. He knows they weren’t the kind of people who make it in this world. But HE DOESNT KNOW HES THE REASON THEY GOT TO HAVE IT, EVEN IF ONLY FOR A LITTLE WHILE. EVEN IF THEY DIED ANYWAY.

GOD if the mczu is all about choices (if etho didn’t kill grian because it wouldn’t matter. Bdubs would still be dead.), about decisions and consequences, then THIS choice of his is just as important, no? The ones that lead to positives, to relief, to mercy, even if momentary?

When he’s inside the ranch he cannot help but be affected by the ranchers tragedy without even knowing who they were or why—it’s enough to know they didn’t make it and were never going to. And it’s enough to see what they had and be jealous he’d never been able to have it with bdubs—to wonder if that’s why he’s still here and they aren’t. But the fact stands that without THAT CHOICE he’d made—to let them go—they may not have made it long enough to have had it at ALL, HOWEVER SHORT IT DID INDEED LAST.

AND HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW IT!!!

CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!?

[theemporium]

🧸 max with his daughter when she has a nightmare🥺

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Max was never a heavy sleeper.

Even as a young child, the smallest of noises could wake the boy up. His mother used to say he was a nuisance, that Victoria could sleep through the apocalypse but he would be up and ready when the postman pushed the mail through the door. Maybe it was the racer in him, maybe it was an innate urge to be constantly vigilant even in sleep. But he was just never a heavy sleeper. 

And after your daughter was born, being a light sleeper was a blessing in disguise. 

It was rough, obviously. Waking up in the middle of the night to a small newborn crying wasn’t easy on any set of parents. But Max felt useful for it. You had done more than enough. You had done more than he ever could have asked for. The least he could do was to be the one to wake up in the middle of the night to comfort your daughter, and let you rest. 

It was something that seemed to follow into Claudia Verstappen’s toddler years.

He had just come back from a triple header, eager to spend some time with his family before he was forced to fly out for the next race. The house was quiet and the lights were off when he arrived. He had scratched Jimmy and Sassy on the head when he walked past, took a quick shower before settling into bed beside you, happy to just finally have you in his arms again. 

It hadn’t even been an hour before he heard the screams.

He was up instantly, blinking away the sleepiness in his eyes and scanning the room for the source of the noise. It took a few seconds before he realised it wasn’t coming from inside the room, but instead one down the hall. 

He hadn’t even bothered to slide his feet into slippers before he was racing out the room, a little dazed but the tightness in his chest was his main concern when he realised the noises were coming from his daughter’s room. He barreled through the door, wide eyes taking in the sight in front of him before he realised what was happening.

Claudia was still asleep. She was clenching the sheets, letting out soft whimpers and cries as she jerked around in her bed like something was trying to grab at her. She opened her mouth, a painful cry for help leaving her lips and Max felt every hair on his body rise as he quickly raced over to her side.

“Shhh, Claudia, baby, wake up for me,” he softly called out to her, his hands holding her arms to try and stop her from hurting herself. “Wake up, schatje, it’s just a dream. A bad dream. Come on, Claudia, wake up for me.”

When the girl had finally woken up, it took a few seconds before she realised her father was in front of her, and then she threw herself into Max’s arms. 

Max caught her with ease, his arms wrapping around her protectively as he held her to his chest. He placed a few kisses on the top of her head, placed in between murmurs and whispers that she was safe with him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He whispered when she had finally stopped crying, wiping her teary eyes and snotty nose on his shirt, but he didn’t care. 

Claudia shook her head, sniffling slightly. “No.”

“Was it a monster? You know Daddy will protect you from the monsters,” he said to her, pulling back slightly so he could run his thumbs over her puffy cheeks. 

“It wasn’t a monster,” she whispered, her lips turning downwards. “You were gone. Daddy, I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Hey, hey,” he softly called out to her, seeing the way her shoulders began to shake like she was about to start crying again. “Look at me, schatje. I’m never gonna leave you, okay?”

Claudia nodded.

“You’re my little princess,” Max said to her, lightly poking her stomach until she flashed him a bashful grin. “Who else am I going to spoil?” 

“Mama?” Claudia guessed honestly, staring up at her father with wide eyes.

Max couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Yeah, I like spoiling Mama too. My queen and my princess, that’s what you two are.”

“Does that make you king, Daddy?” Claudia asked, still clinging onto him as she made herself comfortable on his lap.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he hummed as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Do you think you can go back to bed?” 

Claudia blinked up at him. “Can you stay with me, Daddy?”

“Of course, schatje,” he murmured, and it was almost comical to see him curl up into the little princess pink race car bed she had, but he didn’t care. Claudia nuzzled herself against her father’s side, a small yawn escaping her lips. 

“Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, princess.”

.

[freshloveforthefit]

Always.

!!TW!! Toxic household, mental health, anxiety/panicking

Summary : You and Nick used to be childhood friends, until him and his brothers moved to LA and you all lost contact with each other until one day changed it all.

Growing up you and Nick were inseparable, you were close with Matt and Chris too but not as much as Nick. You were usually over at the Sturniolo's house majority of the time since your house wasn't the best place at times. MaryLou and Jimmy had become more parents to you than your own, and the boys were like your brothers. They were the family you'd always wish was your own.

They all had an idea of why you never wanted to be home but you'd never told anyone the full extent of what happened most days.

You were so proud of the boys when they started to gain popularity on YouTube and social media, and their hard work paid off when they were able to move to LA. Sure they still lived in Boston too but only for a week or two every three or four months when they would have time to visit for a short time.

You hadn't realized that it would be harder to keep in touch with Nick, Matt, and Chris. Youd mostly text Nick but at times you would text the other two too.

But about a month after they moved to LA your texts and calls slowly become less and less until it's only a text every other month to make sure the others doing okay. You understood they were getting more busy though, you watched through their videos as they gained more fans and they'd even went on two tours. You had went to the Boston show and told them how proud you were to see them get the following they deserved. You hadn't seen them since them, whenever they were around you were busy with work. You never knew beforehand so you could take a day or two off to see them.

You felt terrible not seeing them but you were still living with your parents and had to keep working to pay the bills. Your parents rarely worked anymore they told you if you wanted to live there you had to pay the bills, all they did through the day was drink and sleep. You knew it could be worse though, it had been before but now you had a job to get out of the house. I mean twenty was a good age to move out at, you just needed to find the money to get an apartment.

Today had been a rough day at work and you were looking forward to coming home and enjoying your shower before heading to bed. What you weren't expecting was to see no one home and walk into your room being trashed. You look around seeing your posters ripped down from your walls, picture frames shattered on the ground, your clothes were all over you floor, and your books were off the bookshelf. Sitting on your clothes you found a note saying to pack your things and get out. Sure you should've expected this sooner or later, but you're the one who pays the bills. All your money you made went into keeping the house functional.

You quickly packed what you needed and could fit into a backpack and your old volleyball bag before your parents were back and saw you weren't gone yet. You knew that wouldn't end well for you. You made your way out the door looking back at the house, it was like a haunted house. The scuffs on the floor, scrapes on the walls, stains on the steps. It was all to show the memories, good and bad, that had happened, staying there as reminders of what you'd never forget. Memories that would stay with you for the rest of your life, the bad memories stick more than the good. You couldn't think of the last happy memory attached to the house.

Under different circumstances you would be ecstatic to leave this place you've had to live in for twenty years, but you barely had money and no where to stay. You started walking down the sidewalk just walking and thinking. You didn't know where you were going, how you'd pay for anything, or what other job you'd have to start now to make extra money.

You sat down on the curb of the sidewalk after a while not knowing what you were going to do. Your bags were getting heavy and you had to figure out something. You then had the idea to call MaryLou not knowing if you could stay there for a couple nights until you figured out a solution. She picked up after two rings.

"Y/n! Hi sweetie, how are you? It's been a while since I've heard from you," she said.

"Hi, I'm okay.. I was wondering if I could ask a favor?"

"Of course, what's wrong?," she asked.

"Could I maybe stay a couple nights at your guys house? My parents kicked me out and I- I don't know where else I can go.. it's just until I figure something out! I promise I won't overstay my welcome! And you don't have to say yes, I just thought I'd ask..." You start to ramble, trying to hold back tears.

"Y/n of course you can, you know you're never a burden here. We'd love to have you here! Can I ask why they kicked you out?," she asked.

"Um I'm not really sure the exact reason on why buy I should've expected it, they've never been happy with anything I do so why start now, right?," you laugh, trying to convince the both of you that you're okay. "But I'll explain more later, if that's okay."

Oh Y/n, I'm sorry. You know you'll always have a home here." She said.

"Thank you MaryLou. I'm going to walk over, I'll be there in a bit."

"That's a long walk, it's cold out. Do you want a ride?"

"No no, I don't want to inconvenience anyone I'll be okay walking."

"You're never an inconvenience sweetie. Listen, the boys just went to get food and film but I'll tell them to pick you up. Where are you?"

"Oh, I didn't know they were back home. I'm around the gas station, thank you really."

"Not a problem at all Y/n, I'll send them over." She said then hung up.

About ten minutes later Matt drove up in their van. Nick was the first out, opening the back door of the van and pulling into a hug.

"I missed you so much," he said.

"I missed you too Nick, " you said.

By the time Nick pulled away from the hig Chris and Matt were standing there and each hugged you too. You had missed them all, it was great to see then even if it wasn't in the best circumstances.

The four of you got back into the van and Matt drove you all back to their house in silence. You weren't sure what to say, so much had happened since you talked to them last for all four of you.

After talking to MaryLou when you got there you were more comfortable since you knew it was actually okay for you to stay there for a little bit. You knew that they liked you there but you couldn't stop yourself from overthinking. You had told her everything from your childhood, all the things that had happened that you didn't tell anyone. It helped you relax a bit more knowing someone else knew and you could talk to them about it.

You talked to Nick, Matt, and Chris after too explaining everything. You guys had a movie night while catching up on everything you'd missed from each others lives.

They also decided you could move to LA with them. They said they needed someone to help them around their house and with filming. You were happy you got your friends back and were able to have a job and house so you agreed to go with them.

In the end, everything in your life had worked itself out. You got out of your toxic house, got your friends back, got a job with your friends, got a house to live in, and got to move to LA and see the boys every day. It goes to show that even when it seems there's no way out, there's always something good in your future. Always.

NO WAY I WROTE AN ACTUAL STORYYYY. I hope it was good and you all enjoyed :) I tried my best with it, it'll probably be the last full fic for a while since I feel like I'm better at hcs and camera rolls, but feel free to give me constructive criticism. Thank you so much for 300 followers! This was the thank you gift lol, love you all 💓🫶

💓 Taglist : @matty-bear @lacysturniolo @freshloveee @mattsturnioloarchive @dwntwn-strnlo @patscorner @pepsiimaxx @ev3rgreenxtrees @thenickgirl @meetballmatt

[arc852]

Lost Doll

Summary: Jimmy regretted going to the Halloween party with Grian and Joel. As he insists on getting back to their dorm on his own, he gets found and mistaken for a doll.

Warnings: fear, alcohol, being drunk, and being referred to as an object

Word Count: 3405

AO3 Link

It's a day late but Happy Halloween! I hope you guys enjoy this special Halloween themed fic!

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 Jimmy was starting to regret insisting on coming to the Halloween party with Grian and Joel. Though he was tucked away safely in Grian’s pocket, the noise of many other humans just outside the fabric walls was becoming just too much for him. He thought he would be fine after going to classes with them. And not to mention of the watching of parties he did from before he even met Grian and Joel. He thought at least some of that would have come in handy for helping him deal with it. But being right in the center of it was a lot different than watching from a distance or being in class.

 The humans were a lot louder than while in class and there was loud, blaring music playing all around them to match. He really should have listened to Grian and Joel when they said it might not be a good idea. Jimmy really just wanted to go home now.

 He squirmed in Grian’s shirt pocket, adjusting himself so he could hit the wall behind him. The wall being Grian’s chest. It was only a moment later there was a weight gently pressing on his other side. Jimmy pressed against that side as well and then the pressure left.

 “I’ll be right back.” Jimmy just barely heard Grian say over all the noise. He actually felt it more than anything. His time in chest pockets taught him that a deep rumbling came with every word spoken.

 He knew Grian started to move again as he felt the gentle sway of the pocket. Everything around him got just a bit quieter, but still no less overwhelming. Soon, the movement stopped and Jimmy looked up to see three fingers slipping into the pocket with him and descending onto him. Jimmy didn’t so much as react as the fingers carefully maneuvered around his body and then pinched him between those three fingers just enough to make sure Jimmy wouldn’t slip from the grasp.

 He was then pulled out of the pocket and quickly released from the pinched grip and set onto Grian’s open palm. Jimmy quickly gained his bearings and glanced around, seeing that Grian had huddled into the corner, as far from everyone else as he could get.

 Jimmy then looked up at Grian and was a bit taken aback, having briefly forgotten that Grian was currently in a costume. The fake, thick beard was a strange sight on the human for sure. Grian had, for some reason, decided to go as a fisherman. It was a good costume, but it left Jimmy confused as to why Grian picked that above everything else.

 At least Joel’s costume made sense. He had gone as Shrek.

 “What’s up?” Grian asked, his voice a little louder than normal as he tried to be heard over all the other noise. Jimmy winced a bit and that only cemented how much he wanted to get out of here.

 “I think I’m done for the night.” Jimmy said, his own voice going a bit louder. His voice was more likely to be drowned out but thankfully it seemed Grian was close enough to hear him just fine. “I wanna head back to our dorm.”

 Grian’s expression shifted to concern and he nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll go get Joel and we can head out.”

 “No, no! You guys don’t have to do that.” He didn’t want to cut Grian and Joel’s time short. They were both still clearly having fun and Jimmy didn’t want to be the one to ruin that. “I can get back on my own.”

 Grian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Get back on your own?”

 Jimmy nodded. “Yeah. Grian, I know this building like the back of my hand. I can just go through the walls and be back in our dorm in no time.”

 Grian bit his lip, thinking it over. “Are you sure? Cause we don’t mind leaving early.”

 Jimmy frowned. “Well, I do. I don’t want you guys leaving because of me. I’ll be fine.”

 Grian stared at him for a moment longer, looking like he wanted to say something more. Maybe to keep trying to convince him to just let them take him back. But he ended up sighing, his gaze softening. “Alright. I don’t really like it. But alright.” He looked around. “Where should I drop you off?”

 Jimmy looked around to see where they were in the room. He knew this room was one of the ‘premium’ dorms. A bigger version of the normal dorms found on the upper floors. It was slightly hard to focus with everything going on but if he remembered correctly then…he was pretty sure his entrance into the walls was on the side they were already on.

 “You can just drop me off right here.” Jimmy said, turning his eyes back to Grian. “My exit should be close by.”

 Grian let out a little breath. “Okay, if you’re sure.” Jimmy could tell he wasn’t really happy about dropping Jimmy off in the middle of a party but Jimmy would be fine. Grian knelt down and let Jimmy off on the ground, where Jimmy was quick to duck close to the leg of the desk right next to them. Jimmy sent Grian a thumbs up but Grian still looked worried. “I’ll see you back at the dorm.” Grian said before standing back up and moving back into the crowd of people.

 Jimmy stayed and watched for a moment, just able to make out Grian reaching Joel and whispering something to him before someone else got in the way and they were hidden by the rest of the party. Jimmy could only assume Grian was telling Joel that Jimmy decided to leave early.

 He turned away from the crowd and started along the wall, looking for the opening that would lead him into the walls. But as he continued to walk and the amount of wall left dwindled, Jimmy started to panic a bit. He should have already passed by his entrance. If it hadn’t come up yet then that meant…

 Jimmy’s eyes widened and he backed away from the wall slightly, eyeing it up and down. He was on the wrong side of the room. He thought for sure he was on the right side but the noise and amount of humans in the room must have confused him and got him all turned around. 

 This wasn’t good. He had told Grian he would be okay and now he wasn’t sure what to do. 

 He took a deep breath, calming himself enough to look over his options. Trying to go to Grian and Joel in this crowd would be suicide, so that was a no go. He could stay put and hide, wait for the party to be over and hope that when Grian and Joel got back and noticed he was missing would then come back to get him. But who knows how long that would be?

 He could stick close to the wall and follow it over to the other side. The wall was mostly covered in furniture to hide behind but there were a few gaps that would be risky to take. But it seemed like, other than waiting who knows how long, that was his best option. If he stuck close and went quick he should be fine.

 Keeping one hand on the wall, he started following it. He got to the corner, still covered by the bed. He went a bit farther, now hidden by the nightstand and then a bookshelf. But as the bookshelf ended, Jimmy paused, realizing there was a fairly large gap between the bookshelf and the next piece of furniture, which appeared to be a dresser.

 Jimmy looked around, making sure the coast was clear. There were some fairly close humans but they seemed to be focused completely on the conversation with each other. Deciding to just go for it, Jimmy started running toward the safety of the dresser.

 Jimmy skidded to a halt and threw himself back as a sudden shoe appeared in his vision, just barely missing him as it walked by. Jimmy yelped, his voice thankfully lost in the noisy atmosphere. He landed on his back, breathing heavily at almost having gotten stepped on. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should have just waited.

 Jimmy came to the decision to head back to where he had been to wait it out, but before he could pick himself up and move, a shadow fell over him. Jimmy’s eyes darted up in time to see a giant hand descending upon him. Jimmy tensed but didn’t even have the chance to try and get away as the hand scooped him off the floor and wrapped around his body.

 Jimmy was frozen in fear as he was lifted up to the human’s face, the human’s eyes squinting at him. Jimmy could smell the alcohol on his breath and Jimmy felt his own breath catch in his throat. But then, suddenly, the human turned his head to the crowd. “Did someone lose a doll!?” He shouted and Jimmy winced at how loud the human was, so loud that it took him a second to process what it was the human said.

 A doll. The human thought he was a doll?

 Jimmy continued to watch the human’s face, watching it contort to a pout before he used his free hand to cup around his mouth. As the human took in a deep breath, Jimmy braced himself as best as he could as soon as he realized what was coming. “I SAID, DID ANYONE LOSE A-”

 “Whoa, Bdubs, what’s with all the shouting?” A voice interrupted the human. Who was apparently named Bdubs. Bdubs seemed a bit startled but got over it quickly as he turned to see who it was.

 “Etho!” Bdubs yelled and then shoved Jimmy in Etho’s face. “I think someone lost a doll! Probably as part of their costume or something.” Bdubs said as Etho was forced to look at Jimmy. Jimmy remained as still as possible, not blinking, barely even breathing. If they thought he was a doll maybe he could still get out of this.

 “Well, I don’t think shouting is going to find its owner.” Etho replied while grabbing Bdubs’ wrist to carefully move it, and Jimmy, out of his face.

 Bdubs pouted again. “How else am I supposed to find them then?”

 Etho hummed and as both of the human’s gazes were off of him, he took this moment to blink and breathe in deep. He froze once more when Etho’s gaze landed on him, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, you could ask Cleo. She practically made most of the costumes here. She might know who's missing a doll with their costume.”

 Bdubs perked up. “Great idea!” Bdubs gave no other warning as he proceeded to take off into the main part of the party, pushing past people as he looked for Cleo. The human was also making no effort to be gentle with him, swinging him about in his too tight fist as he moved. It was disorienting and Jimmy had to keep himself from getting sick.

 But despite all this he still refused to move. If they all thought he was a doll then a doll he would be. At least until he could figure out how to get out of this.

 Bdubs must have spotted who he was looking for because the next thing Jimmy knew, the human was shouting again. “Cleo! Cleo, Cleo, Cleo!”

 “There you are Bdubs, I’ve been looking for you.” Cleo said, coming into view for Jimmy. She was currently dressed in what was probably the most amazingly realistic zombie costume Jimmy had ever seen. Not that he’s seen a lot but still.

 “Cleo! Do you know anyone that had a doll as a part of their costume?” Bdubs said, getting right into it. Cleo tilted her head, confused.

 “A doll?” She asked.

 “He found a doll on the ground.” Etho chimed in and Jimmy was a bit surprised he had kept up with Bdubs in the crowd. “I found him shouting into the party if anyone had lost it.”

 “Ah.” Cleo said, like that was perfectly normal. “Well, I don’t remember making a doll with anyones costume but I might recognize it. Come on then, let's see it.”

 Bdubs nodded very seriously and held up his hand with Jimmy wrapped around in it in between the three of them. Jimmy was maybe at chest level as Cleo looked him over. He didn’t even dare to breathe as she was looking so closely at him.

 He couldn’t really breath even if he wanted to though. Bdubs’ grip around him was even tighter than before and it took everything in Jimmy not to squirm.

 He watched as Cleo’s eyes widened a bit as she looked him over. Her mouth fell open a bit, just for a moment, before closing shut with a small snap. Jimmy was very confused on what it meant but it was hard to think with how hard he was being squeezed.

 He watched as Cleo’s eyes went soft and she hummed lightly. “I think you’re holding it a bit too tightly there, Bdubs.” Cleo said, pointing to the vice-like grip Bdubs had on him.

 “Oh, am I?” Bdubs asked, looking down at Jimmy with squinted eyes. Yes, very much yes, Jimmy couldn’t help but think. Thankfully, Bdubs loosened his hand and Jimmy felt like he could actually breathe again. Though it took everything in him not to let in a big breath right then and there.

 Cleo sighed and tilted her head. “Bdubs, sweetheart, how much have you had to drink?” She asked, changing the subject once she noticed how out of it he seemed.

 Bdubs blinked and even Jimmy could see he was having to think a little too hard about it. “Not that much.” Bdubs settled with. But Cleo did not look convinced.

 “Etho?” She asked.

 “8 shots.” Etho answered almost immediately. Cleo couldn’t help but sigh again.

 “Yeah, alright, we’re cutting you off and cutting this short.” Cleo said and then turned to Etho. “Can you make sure he drinks some water and gets back to his dorm in one piece?” She asked and Etho nodded.

 “But-But what about the doll?!” Bdubs cried, still too loud, and held Jimmy out and up higher, practically shoving him in Cleo’s face. Cleo appeared unfazed by this but Jimmy tensed.

 “Oh, don’t worry. I know exactly who it belongs to.” Cleo said with a small smile on her face. Jimmy’s eyes widened against his will at this information. He had no idea how this Cleo person would know that. Nothing more was really said though as Bdubs mumbled something intangible before transferring Jimmy over to Cleo’s hand. Jimmy remained as stiff as possible as he was now laid out on Cleo’s open palm. He really hoped the slight rise and fall of his chest was unnoticeable.

 It was one thing to be held by someone too drunk to tell but Cleo appeared very much sober and that did not ease Jimmy’s concerns at all.

 “Go on. I’ll catch up with you two as soon as I return this little guy.” Cleo said and Etho nodded again, grabbing hold of both of Bdubs’ shoulders to start navigating him out of the party, Bdubs protesting and complaining the whole way. Cleo hummed as she watched them go for a moment and then looked down at Jimmy. Jimmy tried hard not to react to her gaze.

 “So…you’re a doll, are you?” Cleo asked and Jimmy felt as though she was actually asking him. Not talking at him but to him. Jimmy’s mouth went dry. Did she know?

 Jimmy, of course, remained still. Not answering. Acting as nothing more than a doll. Cleo hummed and then shrugged. “Alright then.” She sent him one last smile before her other hand cupped over and on top of him, hiding him from view. 

 Jimmy took this moment, as he could feel Cleo start to walk through the crowded party, to take in a deep breath and blink. He still tried not to move too much though, since Cleo would still be able to feel if he did.

 Was Cleo even taking him to the right people? How could she even know? Did she know Grian and Joel?

 Wait…didn’t they have a friend named Cleo?

 Before Jimmy could dwell on that thought any further though, Cleo’s voice spoke up. “Grian, Joel, there you two are.”

 Jimmy couldn’t help but let out a sharp intake of breath when he heard Joel speak. “Cleo! Hey! What’s up?”

 “Nice costume by the way.” Grian commented.

 “Thanks.” Cleo said. “And well, Bdubs went and found something that I think might belong to you two.”

 Jimmy could just see the confused look on Grian and Joel’s faces. “What is it?” Grian asked and yeah, he sounded pretty confused too.

 “First, let’s go somewhere a bit more private, yeah?” Cleo said and then didn’t wait for an answer as Jimmy felt her start to walk again. The noise around them lessened quite a bit before they stopped.

 “Why did we have to meet out in the hall for this?” Joel asked, a bit annoyed. 

 “Just easier to talk this way. Anyway, Bdubs found your doll on the ground.” Cleo revealed and there was a brief moment of silence.

 “Our…doll?” Grian asked, still very confused. Cleo hummed and lifted her cupped hands, uncupping the top to reveal Jimmy, still lying there unmoving. He did allow his eyes to dart over to Grian and Joel though, whose own eyes widened as soon as they saw him.

 Immediately, Joel’s hands darted out and lifted Jimmy from Cleo’s palm before pulling him close. Jimmy relaxed as soon as he was back in the familiar hands, thankful he had ended up back with Grian and Joel after all of this. “Wha- Why do you have him!?” Joel then questioned as soon as he knew Jimmy was safe in his grasp.

 Cleo put her hands up. “Like I said, Bdubs found your doll on the ground and then came to me with it to see if I recognized who it belonged to.” 

 Grian and Joel exchanged a look, their eyes wide as they realized what was happening. “Right, yeah, our doll.” Grian said with a bit of a nervous chuckle. “Thank you for returning hi-um, it, to us. We didn’t even know we had lost…it.” Grian winced at his own words.

 “Of course. Least I could do.” Cleo said and then turned around with the intent of leaving but Joel stopped her.

 “Hey, wait. How did you even know this…doll was ours?” Joel said, feeling just as weird as Grian had at calling Jimmy a doll.

 Cleo raised an eyebrow at them and smirked. “Please. I’d recognize my own work anywhere.” She then turned back around and continued walking off. “I’ll see you two later!”

 Grian and Joel watched her leave, eyes wide in shock as they realized what Cleo had meant. Jimmy, too, felt stupid for not having realized sooner. “I-I guess she would recognize the clothes she made, huh?” Jimmy said.

 “Yeah…” Grian said but then trailed off and turned his focus onto Jimmy. “But forgetting that for a second, Jimmy, are you okay? What the heck happened?”

 “Yeah, the last thing Grian told me was that he dropped you off by a wall entrance and you were heading back to the dorm.” Joel said, his teeth clenched in worry. “And now Cleo comes up to us calling you a doll and saying Bdubs found you?!”

 “Um…well…” Jimmy squirmed a bit, looking down. He really should have just waited the party out. Or better yet, had just allowed Grian and Joel to have taken him home in the first place.

 Grian noticed Jimmy’s discomfort and sighed. “We’ll talk about this later. Let’s get you back to the dorm and away from this party first.” Jimmy nodded at that, thankful to be getting away from the party.

 Joel held Jimmy closer to his chest, hiding him from view as they started heading back to their dorm. Jimmy was prepared for a lot of worrying once they got back but for now, he simply leaned against Joel’s touch and allowed himself to relax.

[winchesterszvonecek]

hii can i request “I’m not scared.” “Your face says otherwise.” from the autumn prompt list with mike dodds?🥺 yk like it's halloween season and the precinct gets a lead to some house but when they get there it's decorated like a haunted house (with jumpscares and stuff) so reader is jumpy and mike laughs at her at the time but afterwards he's worried and hugs her and they have a moment and there's fluff etc

Haunted House - [ Mike Dodds ]

Prompt: “I’m not scared.” “Your face says otherwise.”

Word Count: 4654

Warnings: female!reader, use of y/n, mentions of jump scares, brief mentions of dismembered limbs

A/N: this is my first Mike work so please be nice lol

Masterlist | Mike Masterlist

Ever since it fell abandoned back in the late 1800’s, the old Sunnydale Asylum had easily grown legend to many a spooky tale.

From sightings of disoriented patients still clad in their dirty, white gowns, and left to wander halls forever as ghostly apparitions seeking peace. To the spine tingling story of the doctor who once ran the hospital still eager to lobotomise anyone he deemed fit, the asylum had grown to be quite the destination for those with a thrill for scares.

In fact, it became so popular for tourists and city dwellers alike that on every Halloween since before you were born the owners would set up the most intense haunted house inside, leading those who were brave enough to enter on a terrifying, bloodcurdling journey throughout history.

“God, there is nothing sunny about this place,” You muttered, feeling easily unsettled as your eyes landed on the moulding, degrading sign of the asylum.  The very sight of the smiling sun above the name, sent a fierce shiver rippling down your spine and you ran your hands up and down your arms, following Mike reluctantly, yet quickly, down the path before he ended up too far away for comfort. 

You never would have come here willingly. You hated anything even remotely scary and a haunted asylum, filled with actors waiting to pop out on you, was the very last place you ever could have wished to spend your Halloween. You’d wanted to spend it at home, watching something light and fun, but unfortunately for you duty had called in the shape of a case and for some reason…For some, the universe hates me, what did I do to deserve this? Reason, it had led you straight to the very asylum that you never wanted to see with your own two eyes. 

“I hate this already,” You complained, tailing Mike towards the ticket booth that had a line way too long for your liking as who would ever put themselves in such a situation as this if not under threat of immediate death? “Why is this place even allowed to be open? I thought some guy died in it last year.” 

“He fell down the stairs,” Mike replied casually, glancing briefly towards you. “He wasn’t murdered by a ghost.” 

You scoffed, “Yeah, that you know of. But who’s to say a ghost didn’t push him?” 

Mike couldn’t help but chuckle at your dramatic nature as the two of you weaved your way through the crowds of people waiting for their turn inside, many of whom were actually dressed as asylum patients and had the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up already. 

Why, oh why, hadn’t you just gone to the landfill site with Carisi? 

“Excuse me,” Mike said as you approached the ticket counter, gaining the attention of the rather young looking man, dressed as an orderly, who sat behind it. “I’m Sergeant Dodds, this is Detective Y/L/N of the NYPD. We’re looking for a James Santos, we were told he works here.” 

With his mouth hanging open, the ticket guy said nothing for a split second before his reddened eyes widened in realisation and he nodded, “Oh, you mean Jimmy.” 

Okay, so he was high. Great. 

“Yeah, he works here,” The guy continued, yet he didn’t bother to elaborate further until Mike snapped him back into reality with a click of his fingers, startling the kid terribly and causing him to shuffle in his seat. “But, uh, he’s inside. He's one of the actors down in the South Wing… Look for the guy in the straight jacket and the muzzle.” 

“Muzzle?” Mike repeated, curious.

“Yeah, you know… Like Hannibal Lecter,” The guy said, watching as Mike narrowed his eyes a little before shaking his head and the whole thing off entirely. 

It was too late, too cold, and he was far too eager to close this case to bother dumbing himself down anymore by talking to a stoned twenty-something year old. 

“Is there any way you can get Jimmy out here?” Mike asked, yet to you it seemed more like an order than a question. Something you were extremely thankful for as you did not want to go inside there and have to look for a guy impersonating a cannibal.

“Sorry, dude, I wish I could help. But once they’re inside and in costume they’re off the grid as cellphones kinda ruin the vibe.” 

“Well, is there any other way for us to get inside?” You asked hopefully, as you were already twitching minutely at the faint screams you could hear from inside the asylum, therefore you didn’t even want to imagine what you might look like should you be forced to walk through them. “Maybe an unlocked fire exit somewhere?” 

“No, we keep all the fire exits locked from the outside to stop kids from sneaking in,” The ticket guy replied plainly, only tightening the thick rope building in your stomach as if kids weren’t allowed inside…then what the hell kind of horrors lay beyond those doors?

“What about a back door?” You questioned toughly, finding yourself in sudden interrogation mode from the fear you had over venturing inside. “This is an old asylum, there’s bound to be other entrances.” 

“Look, lady…”

“It’s detective,” Mike corrected harshly, his teeth gritted together so hard you were surprised he had any left. 

“Detective,” The ticket guy corrected nervously, his attitude easily shifting as he became all but sober under the weight of Mike’s heavy glare. Even you were taken aback by his sudden harshness, and if it hadn’t been for the gentle, yet brave, pat on the arm you gave him to help him relax, you were afraid he might have launched himself over the counter and supplied the haunted attraction with an extra body to display. “The only other door is all the way around back.” 

“Great,” You said happily, tapping the desk with your knuckles before stepping back. “We’ll go that way then, you mind showing us?”

“It’s a fifteen minute walk through the forest,” The guy added, his eyebrow raised questionably. “Are you sure you want to? I mean… I don’t know if you know this but there’s stories of those woods being haunted…” 

“We’re not walking through the woods,” Mike stated, causing the guy to snap his mouth shut instantly and look away. You did the opposite though, in that you twisted your neck so quickly to look up at him you could have starred as a special performance of Regan from The Exorcist. He saw you easily from the corner of his eye, your mouth gaped like a fish and your eyes hard. “What?” 

“I’m not going in there.” 

“Why?” Mike asked, puzzlement sitting deep in his features until they slowly began to loosen. You, yourself, stiffened, as a smile etched its way onto his face at the sudden realisation of exactly why you would rather walk around through woods than use the front door. “Wait a minute… Are you scared to go inside?” 

“What?” You chuckled delusionally, your tone an octave higher than usual as Mike studied you, nothing but an annoying doubt plastering his otherwise handsome face as he saw right through your facade. You drew your tongue awkwardly over your back teeth as you added, unconfidently, “I’m not scared.” 

“Really? Because your face says otherwise,” Mike replied bluntly, humorously, causing your aforementioned fear riddled face to shift instantly into a frown that he couldn’t help but find ridiculously adorable. He always loved seeing you get all riled up like this. 

“Fine, you wanna go in?” You asked, a newfound wave of bravery coursing through your veins at his obvious smugness. He nodded, his hands on his hips as you stared up at him, your arms folded and your stance firm. “Then let’s go in, sergeant.” 

“Happy to,” Mike said wittily, knowing damn well you did not want to go in and that you weren’t happy with him knowing it either…otherwise, you wouldn’t have called him sergeant. He stepped aside, dropping his hands and motioning for you to go first as a smug smirk rose to his lips, “After you, detective.” 

A disgruntled huff left your nose as you strolled past him, keeping your shoulders high as you put on a brave face in hopes that he couldn’t tell how truly scared you were to go inside. Which wasn’t much, you know, your bones just practically shook beneath your skin as you ascended the steps. Each flickering light that caught your eye or ear piercing scream that met your ears caused your stomach to lurch inside you and if you weren’t careful, it was likely going to force its way up and land in front of you, but other than that you were just peachy. 

“Well, good luck,” The ticket guy called cheerfully after you, causing you to almost spin back around and arrest him. 

However, luckily for him and tragically for you, Mike’s large frame following behind you easily stopped you from turning around, meaning you had no choice but to carry on towards the building. You already felt uneasy. From the mere sight alone of the large double doors that were peeling away and rusty, you knew that what lay beyond was going to be ten times worse than what was outside.

Nevertheless you carried on, reaching the top of the steps far quicker than you’d have liked. You lifted your shaking hand reluctantly, curling it around the handle and sucking in a sickly breath as you mustered up all the courage you had in you to push it open. You could feel Mike lingering behind you, the heat of his body so close to your own yet it didn’t allow you to feel nearly as much comfort as it might have done, not with the horror that stood beyond the door you still hadn’t opened. 

“Oh, you are so scared,” Mike laughed, nudging you playfully with his elbow and finding even more amusement when you shoved him away to the other side of the step. “Do you want me to open it?” 

“No,” You replied, your word a little choked that it caused you to clear your throat roughly. “No. I can do it.” 

You heard Mike hum sceptically as he retreated back to you, yet he did nothing. He just lingered beside you patiently, watching as your focus grew distant and you forced the fear to momentarily leave your mind just long enough to allow you to power through. You took a deep breath, pushing open the heavy door as the air left your lungs in a shudder. 

God, you were already regretting this. From the eerily wailing sound of the hinges creaking open, and the pitch black darkness that engulfed you from the second you stepped across the threshold, you knew this was a bad idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle. But at the same time, you were also stubborn. You didn’t want Mike to win…whatever game it was that you two were playing and even if you hadn’t you still wouldn’t have been able to turn around, not when Mike had already closed the door behind him and was now hidden…somewhere amongst the shadows around you.

You couldn’t sense him. You couldn’t hear him, not with how hard your heart was pounding inside your chest and all the way up to your ears. You couldn’t even feel his usual presence around you either and that worried you. It terrified you, rather, as if there was one thing worse than being in a haunted asylum…it was being in one alone after Mike decided to be a dick and stay outside. 

“Dodds?” You whispered, swallowing thickly at the echo of creepy laughter that swept through the room around you. 

Against your better judgement you then stepped further into the foyer, hoping that at least hearing Mike’s footsteps follow you in would give you a general sense as to his position. But when you heard nothing, not a single peep besides distant screams of those further inside, you began to sweat…Both from your body, and from your eyes.

“Mike, I’m serious,” You said…seriously, and both of you could tell you were as you’d never once had you called him by his first name. “Where are you? This isn’t funny.” 

At the moment a hand clasped onto your shoulder and made you jump so hard you might have cried had Mike not appeared from within the darkness, a knowing, amused, smile tugging at his lips, “Come on, it’s a little funny.” 

“God, you’re such a dick sometimes,” You muttered bluntly, a very real anger towards him building inside you as you shrugged out from under his hand. 

Only, when you went to walk away from him to emphasise that you were huffing with him and would rather go alone, a skeleton swung down from the ceiling right in front of you. You screamed, your heart leaping in your chest as you stumbled back, feeling the firmness of Mike’s chest behind you as he caught you, his hands holding your outer arms gently before you ended up tripping over your own eagerness to run.  

“So, you’re not scared, huh?” He whispered tauntingly into your ear, causing an entirely different sensation to tingle down your spine. You shrugged out from within his grasp again and stepped away, hearing a pleased chuckle leaving his lips as he followed suit and placed his hand back on your shoulder. Only this time, as a way of comfort. “Come on, I promise I’ll keep you safe.” 

With a reluctant, heavy sigh you nodded and allowed him to lead the way as you mumbled, “Great, just a fun trip into an asylum to get killed.” 

Mike laughed, “We’re not gonna get killed.” 

“Maimed.” 

“Y/N/N.”

“Stabbed.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Beaten.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Burned.” 

“Y/N.” 

“What?” You said innocently, watching as Mike struggled to hide his smile at your incessant rambles of the danger that would likely never succumb to you in here. He kept quiet though, as no matter what he said to you about you being perfectly safe with him, he knew it wouldn’t sink into your stubborn mind until you were back in the true safety of the precinct. 

Instead, he simply continued to lead you further into the asylum, constantly checking to make sure you hadn’t passed out behind him each time an actor jumped out to try and startle you both. He was fine with it, a small twitch of his shoulders every now and then but you… You hated every single minute of it. 

It didn’t matter that Mike was at the front and was the primary target of the scare, you still seemed to take the full brunt of it and each time a disturbing, how did he even manage to make himself look like that? actor would pop out from within a locker or lunge out from behind a door, you would scream like a little kid and lurch forward to cling to Mike’s arm. Not that he minded, though. He kind of liked having you this close to him, and each time he’d feel your face press against his bicep as you hid it from view, his heart would literally skip a beat. 

However, as the two of you delved further into the asylum and had yet to come across another jumpscare actor in the last five minutes, you grew uneasy and on edge, and because of that, you did something Mike wasn’t the least bit prepared for… Nor did he even know how to react when you did. 

“Y/N,” Mike said quietly, almost nervously. He heard you hum from next to him, your pitch a lot higher than it should be as he came to a slow stop. You glanced up at him questionably, your eyebrow raised where his was dipped and the way he kept dropping his gaze between your bodies only heightened your sense of intrigue, and so with a partial widened of your eyes you urged him to speak his words. Something you’d regret the second they slipped past his lips. “You’re uh… You’re holding my hand.” 

With your face dropping, you instantly snatched your hand back and looked away from him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as your stomach began to flutter furiously. Oh God, you hadn’t meant to do that. You hadn’t meant to… Shit. You’d only meant to take a subtle hold of the cuff of his jacket with your fingers just to make sure you didn’t get separated, but you were literally so scared of something popping out in front of you that you held his hand.  

“Sorry,” You mumbled, tugging your sleeves down over your hands as you sucked in a shaky breath and tried to force yourself to look back at him. 

You didn’t want to, not by a long shot. You didn’t want to see the cringed look in his eyes over having you hold his hand but you knew you had to. Not only did you want to keep what remaining dignity you had left but you had a job to do and you literally couldn’t stomach where your eyes were facing now… as there was a concerningly realistic decapitated head sitting in a pool of blood next to you and it was making you want to reach out and take Mike’s damn hand again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mike replied as casually as he could, watching as you turned around and smiled at him…a proper, genuine smile that could strike a man smitten had he not been so already. He could have kissed you. Hell, he was going to, had he not spotted the opportunity of a lifetime sitting just off to his right. “I get that these things can be scary and if you really want a hand to hold, I’d be more than happy to provide you with my own.” 

With your heart literally skipping beats inside your chest, you were about to happily take him up on the offer before he slowly raised a severed hand, wiping your smile away far quicker than it had formed. 

“Or if you’d rather… I can offer you this one instead,” Mike said, rolling his lips as he struggled to not laugh at his own cheesy joke. 

You simply deadpanned him, folding your arms across your chest and refusing to even acknowledge the hand he held out towards you.

“Oh come on, lighten up…” Mike chuckled, wiggling the hand a little to gain your attention — which failed. “It’s funny.” 

“You and I have very different definitions of the word funny,” You muttered, spinning on your heels and deciding to venture further into the asylum by yourself. 

You made it a few steps before you heard a soft thud from behind you, no doubt from Mike tossing the hand aside as it was quickly followed by his hurried footsteps as he caught up to you. He fell in line with you easily, continuously peering at you out of the corner of his eye and when you kept glancing around you anxiously with one hand placed firmly on your churning stomach and the other hanging loosely by your side, he reached out his own and slipped it back into yours without so much as saying a word. 

The two of you stayed like that, with your hands clasped firmly together and your chests fluttering furiously beneath your skin, until you finally reached the room you needed to be in — the operating room. It was basic. As stereotypical as any hospital room in any horror movie could be but there was something about the lonely hand trolley that stood in the middle of the room, with a single man dressed like Hannibal Lecter strapped to it, that very deeply unsettled you.

“This is not a good use of this room,” You whispered, hearing a brief, almost amused…maybe, breath leave Mike’s nose as he slipped his hand out from yours and approached the Hannibal wannabe. 

You stayed behind, not wanting to go anywhere near him just yet until it had been established that they were not there for the scares, and were in fact cops who were investigating a brutal double homicide…Otherwise you simply wouldn’t have been there in the first place. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, as Mike came strolling back over to you with a deep look of guilt sitting heavy on his face. 

“That’s not him,” Mike said, swallowing thickly as he had no idea how you’d react to the news. You squinted questionably, prompting him to elaborate even further. “That uh, that’s not James.” 

“What do you mean? He’s the only guy in this whole place dressed like that!” You exclaimed, gesturing angrily towards the guy who had better turn into James before you got a hold of him. 

“They swapped shifts,” Mike explained, placing his hands on your shoulders to gain your attention and feeling as they rose rapidly beneath them. “James was never here.” 

With a frustrated groan, you shoved Mike’s hands away from you and made for the exit. He followed after you swiftly, jumping more at the way the door banged against the wall as you threw it open than he did at the countless horror actors who’d just spent the last twenty minutes popping out at him.  

“You’re telling me that I just went through all that…” You pointed furiously towards the asylum as your turned in the dirt with so much pressure put on your heels, that it made little dents in the dirt. “And the guy wasn’t even fucking in there!” 

“Wow, hey…” Mike exhaled, taken aback by your sudden swearing as he approached you carefully, your hands on your hips and your chest heaving with every breath you took. 

At first, he thought it was from nothing more than anger at the entire situation. Having your Halloween ruined by work… Having to drive here so late at night… Having to venture through a ridiculously cheesy haunted house set up in an otherwise creepy asylum, but the closer he got to you… the moment he saw the first glisten of the moonlight in the fresh tears that brewed in your eyes, the more he came to realise that you weren’t angry. 

No… You were scared. You were really, truly terrified that whole time and he had no idea. He thought… He thought you were just messing around. He thought it was all a game, but he literally couldn’t have been farther from the truth and honestly, it made him feel like such a dick for all but making fun of you for it. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N” Mike said softly, his lips pressing together regretfully as he closed the gap between you, his brow pinched together with worry. “I had no idea, I thought… I thought you were just messing around. I didn’t…”

“It’s okay,” You sniffled, feeling like such a pathetic child for almost crying over a stupid haunted house. “You didn’t know. You… It’s fine. Really, Mike, I’m okay now.” 

“Are you though?” Mike questioned doubtfully, watching as you nodded your head with uncertainty a few times… before shifting and immediately shaking it as you were not okay. Not by a long shot. He then raised his hands and cupped your face instantly, his heart warming at how easily you seemed to relax under such a small gesture. 

At that immense softness that shrouded your features as you smiled tearfully up at him, Mike couldn’t stop himself from dropping his hands and pulling you into the safety his arms, allowing you to feel as they wrapped around you so tightly…so comfortingly that the last twenty minutes became nothing but a distant thought in your mind. Your own slipped under the warmth of his jacket and around his waist, holding him equally as tight and as close to you as you could as you all but melted against him.

You weren’t aware of just how long he held you like that. Time seemed to tick idly by without you having so much as a care in the world, not when you were here in his arms where he allowed every ounce of fear and worry to leave you entirely. It was strange… Unrealistic almost, how one simple touch from one specific person could make you feel so much better than ever thought possible. But he did. Mike made you feel better. He made you feel safe…like nothing would ever happen to you again and it was because of that…because of that sudden realisation that kicked in in your mind that you did what you did next. 

When he inevitably pulled back from you, just enough for him to glance down at you, you slipped your hands out from around him and curled your fingers tightly around the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer to your face so that you could do the one thing you’d been dying to do for weeks, and might never have found the courage to had he not hugged you. 

You kissed him. 

You pressed your lips so tenderly, so sweetly against his own that his knees almost gave out from under him even despite how quick the moment had come and gone. But it was slow enough to get Mike going and he steadied himself easily, his arm slipping securely around your waist as he brought you closer to him. You could already feel your heart racing as he placed one hand on the side of your neck and brought you towards him, his lips crashing against yours in a way that had you seeing stars, and not those that you could see in the sky just above him. 

You tightened your hold on the front of his jacket to keep him close to you, feeling the way his hand slid slowly round to the back of your head where his fingers began to weave their way through your hair as he cradled it. His tongue traced eagerly over your bottom lip as he did so, pushing them apart as it delved deep into your mouth, causing such sweet sounding hums to leave the back of your throat as he easily deepened the long, overdue kiss that the two of you never wanted to end.

“God,” Mike breathed out, when the two of you inevitably had to pull apart due to a stupid thing called oxygen, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

“There was nothing stopping you, sergeant,” You said flirtatiously, dragging your bottom lip through your teeth as there was nothing causing you to be shy anymore. Not when he’d just stuck his tongue down your throat and answered all the lingering questions you could ever have about whether or not he’d have ever liked you back. “You could have kissed me like that any time you liked.” 

Mike chuckled, drawing his thumb down the softness of your kiss swollen lips, “I don’t think the guys would have liked seeing me kiss you like that in the middle of the squad room.” 

“Maybe not,” You murmured humorously, leaning up to press another gentle kiss to his lips. “But then again, we’ve all seen worse.” 

“True,” Mike replied, pecking another kiss to your mouth as it curled against him. “But I’d rather not have the whole team watching us as we did.” 

“You’d rather have an asylum full of freaks instead?” You questioned, your eyebrow raised playfully as Mike glanced towards the building and shrugged. 

“If that’s what it takes,” He said, drawing his eyes back to you and trailing his knuckles down the side of your face. “As after all…had it not been for that asylum full of freaks then I might have had to wait a whole other year for sometime to scare you badly enough to make you kiss me.”

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[watcheraurora]

Let Me, This Time

I have hurt myself with this idea for too long. It was inspired by ezzrrin's "Traitor" animatic. Go watch it if you want to watch Sad Block People set to a song I listened to like 60 times in a row afterward and got passive-aggressive popups from Spotify about it 2.5k words

I had a bet with @infernafiresword that I could make this under 5,000 words and still have some sort of emotional impact... I... succeeded on the word count... whether I succeeded on the emotional impact is up to reader response XD

—

Jimmy's eyes snapped open, but it made no difference. He was surrounded by darkness. Void. Floating weightless.

No. Not floating.

Falling!

He shouted in alarm and flipped over so he was looking down wherever he was falling and spread his—

Wait.

Where were his wings?

He looked over his shoulder.

He was still in his superhero jumper. With the S on the front. Not the loose blue collared shirt and the white T-shirt under it. And no wings protruding from his back. No slits in the jumper to allow them through.

He looked back down toward where he was falling.

"What's happening?!" he shouted.

He couldn't see anything but void. He couldn't see if he was going to hit anything. If there even was anything to hit.

"TiiiiiIIIIIMMMMM!" The cry crescendoed.

Wham!

Something solid smashed into him and he went tumbling, screaming and scrambling against whatever had hit him.

"Stop it! It's me!" Grian's voice snapped.

"Grian?! What are you doing?!"

"Saving you, idiot!"

"From what?"

"No time to explain! Just hold my hand!"

They leveled out, no longer tumbling rear-over-teakettle through some gravity well. Just floating, weightless, in the nothingness.

"Wait—how come you still have your wings?" Jimmy demanded. "Where have mine gone?"

"They were temporary. Granted to you while you served their purpose. While you bore their curse. Out here, the curse can't hold on as easily."

"Who is they?!"

Grian's face sobered up. "You know exactly who they are."

"Excuse me? I do not!" Jimmy declared stubbornly.

Grian's eyes—huge and black—flickered. A purplish glimmer revealing square pupils. He swallowed and closed his eyes.

Something formed over his face. Black silk—with a purple symbol emblazoned in the center.

A broken Nether portal.

Jimmy's throat closed up and his chest tightened like a giant had him in its fist.

As quickly as he saw the mask over Grian's eyes, it was gone.

"The Watchers?" he breathed.

His own mask, burnt in a cave on a brand-new world, Martyn shouting for him to hurry up after his had gone up in smoke...

"Yes! They're behind all of this. These death games—the gimmicks. You never escaped them! They let you leave Evo—they let you think you got away! They bided their time!" Grian exclaimed.

"Well what about you, then?" Jimmy demanded. "You escaped!"

"They took me, Jimmy!" Grian spat, angry and bitter.

Jimmy blinked. "Wh... what?"

Grian's wings flared—and Jimmy finally processed them. They weren't the scarlet macaw wings he'd grown used to seeing, bound to Grian's back during the death games.

They were black, and they glinted purple in the void.

And they were much larger than Jimmy remembered.

Grian's body flickered. Instead of a red jumper and grey trousers, he was clad in a long, flowing black robe. His hands were as black as the void, fading back to fair at the wrists—

He was back as he'd always been. "Now hold my hand," Grian snapped.

Jimmy took it without arguing. "What was that?"

"They took me. After the dragon fight. They told you, after you beat your dragon fight. That they were taking me to be one of them. By the looks of things, they took those memories when they deposited you here."

"One of them? You mean you're a—"

"A Watcher? Yeah. But a converted one. Which makes me... different. It's complicated. Now shut your eyes."

"But—"

"Tim. Unless you want to vomit, I'd recommend shutting your mouth."

Jimmy's teeth clicked shut.

"Eyes too."

He closed his eyes.

With a ssstrrreeetch and a snap! of gravity, Jimmy was blinded by sunlight.

His mouth was already closed, but he felt like he might vomit anyway. He retched and dry heaved for a moment. "Yeah there's nothing in your stomach," Grian remarked blandly. "All better?"

Still lightheaded and not better, Jimmy nodded anyway.

"Sit with your head between your knees and breathe while I fetch everyone else."

Jimmy didn't argue as Grian vanished. Just followed instructions.

Slowly, the other members of the server appeared around him with Grian, in various states of warp-sickness. Joel disappeared around a mound for five minutes. Etho was completely unbothered, despite Bdubs hanging off his shoulder, looking green. Scott swayed on his feet but maintained his composure. Scar flopped face-first onto the grass immediately. Pearl seemed relatively normal, quietly talking Cleo through the worst of the nausea.

Tango collapsed to his hands and knees, breathing hard. He caught sight of Jimmy and crawled over before resting the back of his thighs on his heels, still folded over. "Hey," he greeted raspily.

"Hi," Jimmy replied.

Martyn appeared last, red in the face and arguing with Grian. "—what about Netty, then?!"

"I can't find her!" Grian spat back. "I've been looking! She must be in a game right now, not the void!"

"Boys!" Lizzie snapped, her usually-sweet voice going hard and catching everyone's attention. Poking out of harsh tears in the back of her shirt were a pair of ragged, half-formed yellow wings. Too short and sparse of feathers to actually let her fly. "Stow it! Grian, what's going on?"

"I'm trying to get you all away from extra-dimensional, eldritch beings called Watchers."

Martyn's red face went pale just hearing the name, even though he obviously already knew what was happening.

Tango's warm hand rested around Jimmy's wrist. "You okay, buddy?" he asked.

"I..."

"You know what he's talking about?"

"I do, yeah. I never told you about Evo much, did I?"

"No."

"It's a long story. But the Watchers were there. They... we thought we got away." He looked over at BigB, who was wide-eyed and holding onto Pearl's wrist. She had his arm in her other hand. "We thought we escaped them. We... we didn't, apparently."

"What's the big deal?" Tango asked.

Grian's eyes snapped to him. "Watchers feed on misery, hatred, anger—the worst of mortal emotions. And—"

"And death," Martyn added. "The lifeforce a player gives off when they die. It's why they made the games. The gimmicks. So we'd kill each other and hate each other. So they can eat. Feast, even. We're a farm to them." His tone was disgusted and bitter—livid beyond reason.

Jimmy met Grian's eyes, asking a question without saying anything. Something he could only do after years of knowing him. Do you?

Yeah. Grian twitched his brows. Try not to. But yeah.

"So what's the plan?" Impulse asked.

"Let's take 'em!" Skizz exclaimed.

"We can't," Grian said. "They're too powerful. They'd just throw us back in the void. The best we can do is really get away from them now that we're out of their Sight."

"How are we?" Martyn challenged. "They can See everything."

"Don't be stupid. Of course they can't. Not everything. We're at the furthest edge of the universe I could find. We're too far away. They have a range. As long as we stay out of it, we're safe," Grian said. He turned back to everyone else. "We split up. Run to other worlds. We keep moving. Assume nowhere is safe. There are only a few Watchers compared to how many of us there are. Hide in crowds if you can. Hub worlds, mini-game worlds. That sort of thing. Whitelists and firewalls don't stop them. They slip right through the code. For those of you that are codeshifters, don't assume taking a new form will keep you safe from their Eyes. Don't anyone assume that setting your spawn somewhere will last. One death, you end up back in the void. Back in their games. Maybe you won't, but assume you will. Stay alive at all costs. This is ultra hardcore, now. Creative mode in worlds that allow it won't save you. Be safe."

Tango's hand on Jimmy's wrist tightened.

Grian's wings flared and a ripple of purple power burst out of him, swamping everyone in particles. Jimmy coughed and spluttered on them. His free hand scraped at his tongue, trying to get the taste of grapefruit(?) off.

He heard his friends crying out, shouting—Martyn and Skizz swore in almost eerie unison—

—

Jimmy blinked.

A mini-game towered over him, way up into the sky, casting its shadow on the ground.

"That was quite the light show. I think Grian's been holding out on us!" a voice said, almost too cheerful.

Jimmy looked down.

Tango was still folded up, but slowly straightening. When he released Jimmy, purple magic particles drifted down from where they'd been touching. Tango's red eyes tracked a particle that drifted down. "We probably weren't supposed to end up in the same place," he remarked. "But I'm glad we did."

"Yeah... me too." Jimmy peered around. "Public mini-game world."

"Seems like it." Tango looked around too, climbing to his feet. "Oh hey. There's a Bedwars arena! Xisuma invented that game! You met Xisuma, right?"

Xisuma. A codeshifter, a voidwalker—and also Hermitcraft's Admin. "Once or twice," he said. "I think I knew he invented Bedwars." He wasn't entirely sure, but that sounded familiar. He stood himself. "We should keep moving."

"Right, right," Tango said. He extended a hand. "Stick together? I'd hate to lose my Rancher in the chaos."

Jimmy nodded and took Tango's hand. "Hold on tight."

They headed for the hangout hub of the mini-game world, following magenta glazed terracotta arrows in the ground and signs.

"What happened to your wings?" Tango asked.

"I'm not the canary anymore," Jimmy said. "I guess. Grian said something about the curse's grip being weaker in the void."

"Weird. I thought those kind of code changes were permanent."

"Me too. Apparently not."

"I mean... Grian did say eldritch. They could be powerful enough for things like that," Tango mused. "But adjusting player codes without them already being fluid codeshifters... I've looked into the Source Code a little. That kind of mod requires a lot more computing power than most of us keep with us." He started muttering under his breath about coding that meant nothing to Jimmy.

Then slowed down. Both his muttering and his feet.

"Hey. Tell me about Evo."

Jimmy did, spending the rest of the walk detailing his memories.

—

Several weeks passed. Jimmy and Tango found out, from hopping to busy public worlds and bumping into the other Lifers, that they were the only ones who stuck together. Cleo even actively encouraged them to go their separate ways, for their safety. Tango and Jimmy thanked them for the advice, but ultimately chose not to heed it.

They tried to stay positive. To be energetic. To encourage one another.

But, after a few weeks, they got tired. They wore themselves out with the running.

They paused on a public world and wandered what must have been thousands of blocks away from spawn. While they moved, they got some wool and wood for beds. Jimmy went about making beds and finding some food while Tango constructed a small shelter to keep them safe from mobs at night. Nothing fancy but more than a dirt hut. It was a plank hut.

The thing about players was that they didn't get sleepy. They could grow fatigued from exertion, but never really wanted to sleep the way villagers did. Sleeping was purely a choice.

But Jimmy and Tango started feeling like they needed some sleep. Running, running, running with no stopping left them exhausted.

Jimmy placed down the beds in the hut. The sun was going down.

"Ready for some sleep?" he asked.

Tango nodded. "Ready."

"Should we keep watch? Trade off?"

"Honestly, I think if we did, we'd fall asleep while on watch. We're thousands of blocks away. We might have time to just sleep a whole night through."

Jimmy nodded. "Okay."

They burrowed down under the covers. The fire in Tango's hair flickered out and he was asleep before his head touched the pillow. Jimmy shuffled around for a bit longer, looking for a new comfortable sleeping position now that the weight of his wings were gone.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook him and he dropped off too.

—

BWMMMMM!

Jimmy sat bolt upright. "Tango!" he exclaimed.

Tango roused slowly. "Hmm?"

"We have to go—now!" He hurled himself out of bed and yanked on his sneakers, the only things he'd taken off to sleep.

"Wh... why? What's the prob—"

BWMMMMM!

Tango sat up. "What was that?"

"Watchers. Moving fast. The only reason we can hear them is because we've been near them for the Games."

Tango launched out of bed and shoved his feet into his boots. "Let's go!" He broke the beds and put them both in his inventory, his axe appearing in his free hand. "Come on."

Jimmy took his outstretched hand and together they ran out of the plank hut. He put his sword in his hand, to match Tango's axe.

"What do we do?" Jimmy asked in a panic. "We need to world-hop."

Tango swallowed. "We can't world-hop this far from spawn," he said. "We have to get closer."

"If we turn around, we're just going to cross the Watchers' path faster!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"I know," Tango ground out around a clenched jaw. He looked over his shoulder at the night sky. Mobs were spawning and they were starting to run into them, dodging zombies and ducking skeleton arrows. "We have to go in... we have to go in one huge circle. Keep them behind us until we can get close enough to spawn to hop somewhere else."

Jimmy started to breathe hard. Not just from the running. "Tango... Tango, we're not gonna outpace them."

The night sky was getting brighter at an alarming rate. But the light was purple and it wasn't the dawn. It was the building light of something getting closer. The Watchers on the move.

"How can we?" Jimmy continued, despair lacing his tone. "We're on foot and we're Players. We can't dodge mobs and Watchers at the same time. We'll never make it to spawn in time! This is doomed. We're gonna—"

Tango yanked them both to a stop under a thick canopy of leaves.

“Jimmy. You have to kill me.” His red eyes burned as they stared Jimmy down, squeezing his hand.

“What? Tango, no! Why?”

Tango looked through the leaves toward the purple light. “Because the energy I’ll give off as I die will sic the Watchers on me. My death will give you time to run. To get off-world.”

Jimmy's warm hazel-brown eyes were wide. “No!”

Tango swallowed. They didn't have time to argue.

“Let me be the canary this time, Jim.”

He stowed his axe in his inventory and grabbed Jimmy’s wrist. Of the hand Jimmy was holding his sword with.

Tango plunged Jimmy's sword into his own gut.

“TANGO, NO!”

Tango was slain by SolidarityGaming

His body collapsed. Jimmy took off running.

Grian said one death would put them back in the Watchers' void between Death Games. There was no hope of finding Tango back at spawn.

Through his tears, Jimmy kept running.

Let me be the canary this time, Jim. Tango's words followed him through the woods.

[urapunk]

(TW; mentions of self harm and vomiting.)

A Gary Smith writing that I made, and'll probably make more of.

People Dont Consider Me a Tradgedy And I Wish They Did

It's funny how alike he is to Petey. He's no different, he gnaws his nails quietly in class and listens to conversations around him because its embarrassing to start a conversation other than being the one spoken to. But thats a lie. He's just nervous and it tastes bittersweet and disgusting in his mouth like straight syrup.

But he cant even get better. He just cant. And so in the back of the ambulance with his snapped arm and new cuts from glass, he found himself crying. Crying for once. He's going to be fixed up and.. And well.. Sent away. Three months they said. Thats an entire summer. A summer in a looneyhouse and then its right back to the hell of bullworth if his grandpa decides to offer enough money. Those same faces. Those same, disgustingly familiar faces that he knows are staring. They're always looking, looking and looking and looking.

The EMT can see the cuts lacing his arms up and down until they get to his upper arm, because they feel even worse there and he doesnt hate himself so much as to make it sting even worse.

But he still does it. Theres atleast 12 cuts on his upper arm and they were all from really bad times. Times he's repressed and forgotten, times that make him want to rip his arm off and grow a new one, times that make him vomit from the anxiety of them happening again.

The lights are so bright in the roof of this death van. They hurt his eyes so bad, and he's sure his ankle is broken or wrist is shattered. He doesnt even know its his arm yet. Why didnt he just get Jimmy kicked out instead? Did he have to take over bullworth? Couldnt he just... Couldnt he just talk.

But he doesnt know how. He babbles like a small child when it comes to his stupid emotions because what are they. They all feel the same, his heart races, his face contorts, and thats it. Thats only how it feels and it will never feel different, and thats only the literal sense. They can either make him feel like hes driving a bumpy road or they can feel like his guts are spilling out so disgustingly in his lap.

It doesnt stop, and when they give him a therapist in happy volts itll still be the same. His therapist would ask him questions, like 'what caused this for you,' or 'why'd you do it?'...

'Why'd you do it?'

'Why'd you do it gary!'

And thats when he let out a loud, frustrated groan of pain.... He couldnt hear the sirens. Where had the sirens gone? Why couldnt he hesr the ambulance that he was in-?

He noticed he was wrong. He wasnt in it. He was now in a hospital bed, light beaming through the curtains and illuminated the cast on his right arm.

The cast. The cast that would restrict him. He was restricted now. Restriction is a bitter word. He doesn't like it because it specifically restricts him. Restrict, restrict, restrict.

It hit him that he had just woken up. He disnt remember falling asleep, maybe they out him out because he was writhing too much or- crying. Did he cry? Was he crying? He shouldnt have been crying. But nevermind that. He had obviously woken up from something frustrating him and he had no clue what it was. Maybe its best he doesnt remember.

It wasnt much longer in the day when he was checked into happy volts. He felt sluggish, and he quickly recognized the disgusting, stomach churning 'calm' of medication. His therapists all said the same things throughout those 3 months. Each time he was first meeting them he'd do a survey; with one question that stumped him every time, not matter how many times it was explained. 'Are panic attacks frequent? On a scale of one to 10, how bad do your attacks get?'

What is a panic attack. His therapists all just gave him the same answer, but he was searching for one that really set it up in him. He underatood it, a little, but it was like the knowledge of the ocean. It has fish and is very deep; it's emotional and very scary.

The thin mattress he slept on was annoying, and he couldnt tell if it made his slouch better or worse. He didnt have to wear one of those stupid gowns, they gave him a nice blue sweatshirt and white sweatpants with...

Grippy socks.

It made him want to die the amount of times he tried to slide down the hall only to remember, these arent normal socks. They have GRIP to them. He'd nearly fallen a less than safe amount of times. He couldnt even be childish, he had to be reduced to a 'calm' medicated zombie that felt sick all the time.

The clothes were comfortable though, the bed was.. Okay, but the showers were awful. He didnt feel clean. It never got hot enough to help him feel soft and fuzzy.

And it reminded him that he'd never wipe away the punches thrown at him over the years.

But that was for his therapist to hear, only because she was paid to. He's talk to his grandpa when he got home, but.. His grandpa wouldnt want to hear that. He wouldnt want to hear about how his grandson fought more than he should. That his grandsontried to take over the school and broke his arm in the process, that he fought ontop of bulworth academy and his last name would be slandered now. They shared nothing but the word Smith sometimes.

When he finally got out his grandpa had brought him clothes to change unto before leaving, a soft white tshirt and black cargo jeans, and a dark green jacket. He loved that jacket so much. It was like the perfect shade, the color that was the embodiment of gary! When he finally settled in the car he noticed his grandfather gripped the wheel angrily.

"So why'd you do it Fish?"

'Why'd you do it?'

'WHY'D YOU DO IT GARY!'

That made him wanna hurl. He couldnt stop thinking of Jimmy when anyone asked, but hearing it from his grandpa was sickening. Especially with the nickname he had aince a boy. He always loved aquariums and fish and all to do with fishing, so papa called him Fish, or just... Gary.

His grandpa was met with silence... And it did worry him. A little bit. But there wasnt room for worrying about gary now.

"Fish, tell me." He wasnt spitting venom out alongside his words, but more like a bittersweet syrupy medicine thats overly sweetened, the kind you'd take as a child and wanna throw up after.

"I dont know."

...

[nukaberries]

New Vegas companions react to a teenage courier?

Another super late post from me (I'm so sorry lmao) but better late than never! I've already said this but I love reading/writing for Teen!Sole/Courier - my courier oc is actually nineteen during the events on New Vegas so stuff like this helps with developing her too! <33

//

Companions React to Teen!Courier

(Includes: Arcade, Boone, Cass, Lily, Raul and Veronica)

Arcade

Straight off the bat, he's gonna have a lot more patience for a younger courier than he would an adult. He doesn't exactly have fond memories of being a teenager - but then again, who does anymore? - so he can't even begin to imagine what it must be like after what the courier had gone through. Although Arcade often prefers to avoid violence when he can, he's more than willing to resort to it when it comes to protecting the courier. However, this means he's all the more disappointed if the courier sides with the Legion, he understands they're far more impressionable and that only makes him harbour more anger towards the faction, but he'd still expected better from them.

Boone

Instantly goes into dad/big brother mode. Boone doesn't anticipate it happening, but he finds himself being much more protective over the courier than he'd like to be. He'd been so excited to be a father before Carla's death and in a strange way, the courier feels like a second chance. He won't mention it, of course, especially not at first, but he'll show that he cares in little ways like making sure Six has a larger portion of the rations than he does or by protecting them from danger before he even considers himself. Boone doesn't want to overstep, nor does he really feel comfortable talking about it, so he'll never bring up how much he cares, he just hopes the courier knows he'll protect them no matter what happens.

Cass

It doesn't make a complete difference to Cass. Of course, she's even more outraged over what Benny did to Six, finding their attempted murder horrific in general, but even more so when it's apparent the courier isn't even eighteen. While Boone takes on a paternal role, Cass quickly becomes an older sister and terrible influence all rolled into one. She'll offer Six whiskey to try, although she knows chances are they've already drank alcohol before - God knows she'd sampled enough as a teenager. She's always willing to give them advice, granted she knows it's not always the best and most moral advice, but she's doing her best regardless.

Lily

Honestly, not much about Lily's relationship with Six would change, even if they were a teenager. She takes her role as their grandma as seriously as ever, refusing to see any harm come to the courier. With Six being even closer in age to her Jimmy and Becky, it sometimes makes it even harder than it usually would for her to remember she's not actually talking to her grandchildren. She's just grateful that the courier is patient with her, even if she isn't the perfect grandma sometimes.

Raul

It's hard for Raul to not be reminded of Rafaela and Claudia when he first meets the courier - regardless of their gender. Almost similarly to Boone, he sees them as a chance to do better and actually protect someone for once (third times the charm, right?) He manages to play it off with sarcasm and quick wit, but he truly does care for Six and he wants what's best for them. Perhaps he won't always agree with their choices and he makes a point to voice that when it's the case, but there's never a day he won't stand by them. He refuses to lose someone a third time.

Veronica

She's actually really excited to meet the teenaged courier. When with the Brotherhood of Steel, Veronica would love spending time with the squires, constantly being reprimanded for distracting them from their work - sure, Six is a little bit older, but she doesn't mind. But now? She doesn't have to worry about her commanding officers telling her to buzz off, she can spend all the time with them that she wants, if they're willing to put up with her. She's definitely a better influence than Cass, or at least she tries to be, but she knows showing Six how to cheat at poker probably wasn't the best idea. Veronica will also insist that she'll deal with Benny herself, but she knows better than to get in the way of the courier and their revenge.

[judgementdayslittle]

Can you do one where reader has an encounter with the OG Bloodline? Like when TJD and Bloodline were supposed to team up

Sorry this took so long! Trying to get back into the swing of things.

-Your were, of course, nervous to meet The Bloodline. They looked so scary on TV!

-Your caregivers assured you that it would all be okay and they won't lay a finger on you. And you believe them, because anyone who would date hurt The Judgement Day's babies were in for a world of pain!

-Still, you did feel nervous. Though those nerves calmed down when Mami found a llama toy for you and Dom to play with!

-You were having so much fun playing and cuddling up to Mami, you didn't even notice when Roman, Jimmy, Solo, and Paul Heyman entered the room.

-When you did, you instantly jumped off the couch and ran to hide behind Papi.

-Papi chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair. Comforting you gently.

-"It's okay sweetheart. You know they wouldn't dare hurt you. Right?" Damian gave them a glare at that last part.

-You slowly poke your head out to look at them. Giving them a little wave.

-Roman and Jimmy give you a smile. Paul is too busy handling business, and Solo is... Well, he's Solo.

-You're placed back on the couch with Dom while they start talking business. It sounds boring, so you time out.

-You and Dom play with the llama and some of your other toys for a while, until you see a shadow hover over the two of you. It's Jimmy.

-He starts asking you two what you're doing, and you shyly show him your toys. Luckily, he seems nice and invested!

-A little later, Mami said she wants to talk to Heyman, alone. But you wanna stay with Mami! So you whine and hug her tightly, like a koala!

-She very quickly relents and let's you sit on her lap while she talks to Paul.

-He looked confused, but Mami kept warning him to pay attention to her, not you.

-Your mostly zone out again, just happy to be with Mami. But when you hear Mami tell Paul to 'Acknowledge me' you laugh and turn to Paul to say "Acknowledge Mami!"

-Causing Mami to laugh and give you a big kiss on the cheek! Leaving a lipstick mark.

-"You heard the little one." She would say proudly.

-In the end, Mami called you her big helper! Even though things would still of gone to plan no matter what, Mami still saw you as her good luck charm!

[captainschaos]

steam and smoke

I got @bonthebanana as my @mcyt-valentines valentine, and I've got a little ranchers fic for ya !! I ended up just doing a lil bit of mostly canon compliant angst/fluff, but I had a nice time writing it, and hope you like it!!!

word count: 1203

---/---/---

Tango still feels the fire. Not his own- the phoenix feels two heats, in such a blaze. The fire that is his, and the fire that isn’t. His holds his fury, the pounding of his blood as he fights to smother the flames destroying his home, it holds his love and his hatred. The other holds only the intent to harm that which he loves. It is nothing like him. But then there’s a third heat. 

Jimmy hands him a mug of hot cider. 

It snaps Tango back to reality, and he looks up at his soulmate, remembering where they are. He sits on a wooden stool in one of the barns, the smell of hay and good soil on the air. Jimmy sits on an overturned bucket across from him, holding his own steaming mug and smiling gently. 

“Feeling better?”

Tango sighs, and a puff of smoke drifts from his mouth with the breath. It makes Jimmy giggle a bit, though the canary quickly quiets himself, trying to be sincere. In all honesty, he’s doing very well, and Tango shifts to look at the ground. 

“A bit. It just–” A sound somewhere between a shriek and a groan escapes his throat, as Tango leans back and puts a hand to his face. “It’s all gone! All that work, all just– woosh!”

“Well, not all gone, right?” Jimmy leans back, to an angle where he can glance out through the barn door. He does wince a bit when he spots what’s left of the ranch house. Tango’s glad he can’t see outside in this moment. Strategic positioning on Jimmy’s part, likely, when he brought Tango in and sat him down. “We’ll rebuild. We can rebuild, easy!”

But Jimmy’s latter words are a bit fuzzy as they reach Tango’s ears. He’s looking at the hands that cup Jimmy’s own mug of hot drink, and the burn marks that adorn them. Charcoal is smudged on the side edges of his fingers, but the fingertips are raw and red. And looking at them, Tango remembers the flurry of events that transpired not a half hour before. The fires of the ranch, mostly put out, seemed to settle in his stomach. He was furious, his own flames flaring, and he growled and screamed at the people around who had laughed at his loss. Their loss. He remembered the hands that had grabbed him, pulled him back, been gentle when all he wanted was to be horrid. And soft words had told him to wait, kept him safe from the neighbors that laughed, and tucked him into the barn. 

He hadn’t noticed, until this moment. 

“...Oh, Jimmy…”

“Hm?” The canary followed Tango’s gaze and glanced down at his own hands, then hurriedly tried to hide them when he realized. Which he failed to really do all that well around a mug. “Oh, ah, it’s fine, really. Nothing too bad, promise!”

Tango set his own drink carefully on the floor, then leaned forward, reaching out to Jimmy. One hand took the canary’s mug gingerly, while the other took one of his hands with an even more tender touch. The last thing he wanted was to hurt him more, after all. 

“They should heal up quick enough,” Jimmy says, his voice speeding up in a clear attempt to make Tango feel better.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Tango whispers, voice feeling weak as he sees what he did to his soulmate. “It was just so–”

“Hey, hey–” Jimmy’s freed hand moves now, and cups Tango’s cheek with the same tenderness he’d cradled his mug. He pushes the phoenix with gentle touch to make him look him in the eyes, and he smiles. “I know, yeah? I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“But, still! I didn’t even realize…” Tango glances away quickly, though he doesn’t stray from Jimmy’s touch. 

“You were trying to protect us! I get it, I promise, Tango.” Jimmy’s voice is so bright, so kind. It always is. 

“I messed that up pretty bad then, huh?” Tango says with a pathetic little laugh. 

Jimmy laughs in return. “I mean, you scared them off pretty good, didn’t ya?”

“I guess. Just– next time, leave me to get into my trouble, won’t you?” Tango shifts his focus from the wall of the barn to Jimmy’s hands once more, wincing as he once again sees the reddened skin. “I’ll burn somebody else.”

“Hey. I know that too, you know.”

Tango can’t help but look back to Jimmy’s gaze. The canary’s expression is soft, but there’s determination in it. This is the balance of Jimmy. He can be sweet, but also so stubborn. He can be loud, but also so gentle. And in this moment, Tango had felt horrible for how he’d hurt his soft-feathered soulmate. But there’s something resolute, set in stone, as his eyes meet his. 

“I knew what I was doing, alright? Believe me,” he says with a laugh, “I’ve died plenty enough times to consider myself an expert, when it comes to jumping in places I shouldn’t. But this is my place. With you.” Jimmy’s touch finally lowers from Tango’s face, and he puts his hand over the one Tango is using to hold his commandeered mug. Tango holds one of Jimmy’s hands, Jimmy holds one of his. A cycle, a trade. A connection. A bond. “Soulmates gotta look out for their soulmates, yeah? So I’m gonna look out for ya! And I don’t care if I have to grab a few fiery hands to do it, alright?”

Tango can’t help but smile, as Jimmy’s head dips and his expression only widens to something more insistent. It’s understanding with a force, with eyes alight with unstoppable spirit, a smile brightened by laughter and empathy. Tango can’t help but believe in such a face. 

“You’re a wonder, Jimmy Solidarity, you know that?”

“Oh, stop it!” And Jimmy finally looks away, just a tinge of shyness pinking his cheeks. He quickly recovers and sends a jab back at Tango. “Just remember which of us died first, that's all I'm saying.”

“Hey now!” Tango slips Jimmy’s mug back into his hand, and leans down to pick his own back up. “I mean, it’s not like we don’t know who will get the last life…”

“Not me! I refuse this time!” Jimmy stands up, a fist planted at his hip as he turns his attention toward the door. “But it would help both of us live a bit longer if we got a real roof back over our heads.” He looks to Tango, and for just a moment the playful teasing slips as that same, steady kindness fills his gaze. “Ready to go see how bad it is?”

Tango sighs deep, but stands up himself. He sips the cider, and feels its warmth travel to his stomach, sitting coupled with the burning rage in his gut. But it’s something sweeter, something spiced. Something like home. And that’s what he holds onto, as he steels himself to assess the charred remains of the ranch. Revenge can come later. For now, he needs to take care of Jimmy. And he trusts Jimmy will take care of him. 

“Let’s go, partner.”

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 10)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 next: Part 11 | ao3

time for shenanigans.

Jim’s frustrated.

This whole week has been a major event after another; Joyce’s son vanishes on Sunday, the same happened with Eddie Munson the day after, and the Hollands’ daughter going poof the other day. And then Will’s body had been found in the quarry, which was a cherry pick top on with Benny’s sudden death and the damned MK Ultra stories he can’t get out of his head-

Jim pinches the bridge of his nose. Takes a deep breath. Exhales it out. Yeah, Jimmy boy, exhale some of that shit out.

He’s sitting in his vehicle on the roadside, just at the intersection of Cherry Ave and Cornwallis Road. He doesn’t really have much to do. Theoretically, he should be sitting his ass behind his desk at the station but what is he going to do?

The goddamn suits and rangers of the state had shown up right after Will’s body was recovered and told him to relax because they got it all covered.

Yeah, right.

In a different time, Jim wouldn’t mind shouldering off the responsibility and leave the big hats to finish it. But he’s not that kind of cop. He doesn’t trust the state to place their greasy hands over the cases. At best, they’re going to fuck it all up.

But it seems that they really aren’t kidding about being involved. When Jim had tried to get into the morgue last night to do a better autopsy on Will’s body, the doors were guarded by, not one, but three rangers. He almost punched them all out, but he had simply shared the most polite conversation he can with them before they politely kicked him out.

He had thought about seeing Joyce earlier this morning, but he would be a heartless jackass to accidentally send her to a public breakdown at her son’s funeral.

Now he’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, staring at nothing on the road, unsure what to do and where to start.

His mind wanders to the notebook sitting in the glovebox. Having already read it front to back, he can admit that Wayne really has a sharp eye for everything. There’s one particular point about Eddie being last seen with a cut on his hand that’s nagging the back of Jim’s memory cave. But nothing solid comes up so he brushes it aside for now.

“How long it’ll take for you to even care out what happened to my nephew before his body turns up next?”

Jim stops his tapping on the wheel and drops his forehead against it, sighing heavily. Wayne really knows exactly what to say that haunts you for the rest of your damned life.

Not so different to what Joyce had fired back at him few days ago.

Will’s body comes back to his mind again. He hadn’t seen him up-close, not with the coroner being defensive on preventing contamination. But Jim’s not an idiot. He had seen enough of Will’s perfectly intact body to call bullshit on the accepted belief the kid fell into the quarry.

Suddenly, he gets a sinking feeling in his gut.

Jim looks up towards the direction of the laboratory. He’s too far to actually see the building but he feels its presence nonetheless. Enough to conjure up the image of Martin Brenner’s polite smile when he said no, we haven’t seen a child here on these grounds.

He starts the engine.

—

From the way Wayne keeps glancing up at Joyce, she senses that her pacing is getting to his nerves.

It’s fair for him to think that. She’s been practically burning through his kitchen floor for the past thirty minutes. Or she thinks it’s been thirty minutes. Hours were quickly slipping and the sun’s already setting outside. 

Hours without any word from Will or Eddie. Not even a tiniest flicker from the lightbulbs. 

Despite her empty stomach, she can feel bile climbing up her throat. She swallows it down, daring a glance back to Wayne. 

He looks up at her again, his hand rubbing the side of his temple. Joyce tenses when she catches his mouth opening as if he’s ready to say something. She’s already had enough listening to the hauntings of her mother’s scolding in her ear and whispers from the townsfolk (including Lonnie and Jonathan) right behind her back. She doesn’t want to hear another one to her face from Wayne.

Just then, through her anxiety, she gets struck by a realization.

“Of course!” Joyce snaps her fingers in a feign of excitement. “They probably went back to my house!”

Wayne gives her a bemused look. “Your house?”

She nods quickly, already pulling the older man up as she reminds him through a long-winded explanation of how she manages to establish communication with Will and later Eddie at her home. Wayne looks all the more confused, but he hurries along with her to his truck. It’s a quicker drive from the trailers to Cornwallis. Wayne follows her brief directions, soon parking on the driveway. Before he even stops, Joyce jumps out and runs to the front door. 

She realizes a second too late that she should give him a warning about the current state of her living room. But whatever words she’s about to say withers in her mouth when she steps into the house.

The Christmas lights are gone. 

Every one of them that she’s strung up, even a few she had reluctantly pushed to the corners this morning, are nowhere to be seen now. Her only way to speak to her baby, gone.

As she gapes around the room, her eyes land on the suspect, who’s kneeling on the couch and methodically replacing a new layer of wallpaper above it. Right were the letters used to be.

“Lonnie.” She doesn’t know how she finds her voice, but it doesn’t sound like herself. It’s too calm to match the anger burning within her chest.

Lonnie looks over his shoulder, unfazed. “There you are. Thought I had to call the cops when you disappeared this morning. Like mother, like son, huh?”

Joyce clenches her jaw tight at the normalcy of his tone. She glares at him, making Lonnie mockingly throw his hands up. 

“Oh, sorry. Never meant to say that. I was just worried about where you went.” Lonnie chuckles. Then he looks over her shoulder and his expression falls. Joyce dares a quick glance and sees Wayne standing awkwardly in the doorway. She cringes inwardly, motioning at the other man to leave. But Wayne doesn’t move. He just crosses his arms and stares back evenly at Lonnie.

When Joyce peers back at Lonnie, his eyes are darkened. She can hear his teeth grinding as he gets off the couch and towers over her. “Seriously? We just buried our son and you run off to-”

“What did you do to the lights?” Joyce cuts him off. Her voice is still and quiet.

Lonnie raises his eyebrows, his temper briefly quelshed with confusion. “What?”

“The lights, Lonnie. Why did you take them off? And why are you ruining the wallpaper?”

He has the audacity to sigh and shake his head as if his heart is breaking. That liar. “I threw them out.”

It feels like the world just stopped. “What?”

“Because your mind’s not right, Joyce. I can’t see you act like this, pretending that Will’s trapped in the walls-”

“Since when have you ever cared?” Frost drips out of her voice. She hopes it turns into icicles and stabs into her ex-husband’s heart.  “You never gave two shits about me when I had to bust your ass out of jail countless times and take up the night shifts because you couldn’t hold a job anymore. You never cared how hard or loud you’ve hurt me in front of Jonathan. You never, never cared about Will until you thought about hitting him too.”

“Joyce-”

“And now you show your face up, acting like the grieving husband and father so you can make everyone believe you’ve cared. But you never did. Because I bet it’s because of that sweet money the state’s going to donate to your pocket for acting like the way you are. So what gave you the fucking right to take down all of my lights, tear my wallpaper off, and act like it’s for the sake of my sanity?”

Lonnie throws his arms up, his face looming closer like he always does when they fight. “Because you’re sick, Joyce! You’re acting completely irrational and ruining this house-”

“I’m ruining the house? Is that what you care for now?!”

“Yes! Because this is where you and your son live in-”

“If you fucking dare to move back in here-”

Amidst their arguing, Joyce barely remembers Wayne. She just hopes that he had just left already, seeing no point in watching a couple’s dispute. It’ll hurt, but it would be the best for him. He doesn’t deserve being dragged into more of her messes.

Lonnie’s hand suddenly shoots towards her in a blur. Joyce instinctively flinches away, already feeling the phantom stinging of the previous slaps. 

But she doesn’t feel her head snapping to her side or taste sharp copper in her teeth. She peeks her eyes open (she doesn’t realize she had shut them) and sees Lonnie’s arm being held in the air by Wayne’s tight grip.

“If your way to end an argument is to hurt someone, then you’re better to take the loss and leave.” Wayne speaks to Lonnie’s face so softly that his usual gruff tone vanishes for a moment. Oh. Joyce realizes. That’s how his anger sounds.

Lonnie stares at him wide-eyed, a drop of sweat trailing down his cheek. His forearm whitens around Wayne’s fingers the longer they grip into the skin. Finally, Wayne leans away with a curt nod and lets him go, making Lonnie stumble back. He looks at them both before the familiar snarl of displeasure returns. 

“You’re both fucking crazy. You both deserve it together.” He spits just before he storms out, loudly slamming the front door shut. 

Trembling, Joyce glares through the still-open window as Lonnie starts up his car and promptly drives off. 

Wayne scoffs quietly, “Serves him right.”

It should be enough to let her relax and breathe again. But there’s so much of her anger boiling her veins that Joyce grabs her head and curls her fingers into her hair, pulling it harshly so that several strands get ripped out.

This should be enough. But there’s so much of her anger boiling her veins that Joyce grabs her head and curls her fingers into her hair, pulling it harshly so that several strands are ripped off.

She can hear Wayne calling her name. But she doesn’t listen or look at him. She just turns around and stomps her way down into the house. And then there’s a blast of cold air and heavy crunching of leaves under her feet. Before she knows it, Joyce yanks the shed’s door open.

The first thing she sees is a pair of shovels. She grabs them, only for both tools to be somehow tangled with each other. It makes her more mad as she struggles to separate them. But once they’re freed, they get caught against the other tools in the shed.

“You’re kidding me.” She says to nobody in particular except this stupid shed and whatever god is up in the sky who likes making her life miserable. She tries to shove her anger down, but the shovels are stuck again and they’re just banging against the shed, doing nothing but make the buzzing in her head louder and louder and she can’t think of anything other than-

“Joyce.” 

She jumps, her shoulders up to her ears. She whirls around, expecting to see Lonnie crawling back to her. But it’s only Wayne, standing just a few feet away.

She glares up at him. “What?” 

He looks wearily at her and at the shovels in her hands. “What are you doing right now?” Wayne asks, sounding too gentle like he’s trying to coax a scared animal. Thinking of that comparison makes Joyce even more mad.

“None of your damned business.” She hisses. She turns back to what she’s trapped herself in doing and tries to free the shovels. How is it this hard to get a couple shovels out?! 

But she still senses Wayne behind her, even approaching closer. She whips her head back to him, “Leave.”

Just after she says it, the shovels she’s been holding bang against some equipment inside, creating a cascade of metallic crashes.

Her frustration explodes. She drops the handles and kicks at the wall several times hard enough that it almost surprises her it doesn’t collapse. Her hands dig back into her hair as she yells up at the sky. And because Wayne is still here for some godforsaken reason, she yells at him too. 

“Just go! You already know how goddamn sick I am! Just go and spit on me after wasting your fucking time for sitting around and waiting for your nephew-”

Wayne takes another step forward and-

He hugs her. 

Joyce stiffens at first, a second of shock overcoming her. Then she lets go of her hair just so she can pound her fists onto his chest, attempting to twist away from his embrace. Bad women like her don’t deserve hugs like this.

“What did I tell you about using others to comfort your pain, Joyce? Now I’m going to feel awful for wanting to give you a hug. You see what you’ve done? To your own mother, no else?”

Wayne doesn’t let her go. Instead, he smooths her hair down, careful at the aching patches where she’d just abused her scalp. Something about that motion makes Joyce to drop her arms down. Her breath shudders as she lets her face be buried into Wayne’s cardigan. It smells like cigarettes, old oak leaves, and flour oddly enough.

It sends a crack somewhere through her heart.

She doesn’t recognize the wretched sound coming out of her mouth. It sounds like a dying animal, too rough and guttural as if it wants to cut through her throat. Her small body wracks violently with every sob like it’s desperate to rattle her soul out to leave this earth. She wants to leave, but Wayne isn’t letting her. He keeps her arms tight around her, slightly rocking them side to side like a father does to a child. Just like how Joyce does to Will and Jonathan after a bad day and night. 

Thinking about it restarts the cycle of tears again.

After she feels her tears are spent and regains control of her breathing, Joyce taps on Wayne’s arm. He gets the message and unwraps himself from her, though he keeps a hand on her shoulder. The front of his cardigan is nearly soaked through but he doesn’t raise a complaint.

Joyce’s eyes feel swollen. There’s snot and tears running down her face, which she’s quick to wipe away. Once she’s sure she can speak without another threat of tears, she mumbles, “Sorry about that..” 

“No need to apologize. Seems you really needed that.” Wayne tells her softly. She looks up at him and there’s a small sincere quirk of his lips. Not a single ounce of malice or pity is shining out of his doe eyes, just complete reassurance and comfort. 

It almost makes Joyce cry again, but she holds it together and just sniffs her snot back in. 

Silence falls between them, but it’s not as awkward or tense as Joyce expects. It’s more comforting. Maybe breaking down in front of someone who doesn’t immediately taunt her does more wonders than she thinks.

“Do you want to explain why you were wrestling with these shovels?” Wayne asks. A flush of shame comes over Joyce and she looks down to the ground again. Crosses her arms as if it’ll prevent herself from answering.

“Joyce?”

She lets out a shaky sigh. Fuck it. Wayne’s been with her this far.

“I want to go back to the cemetery.” 

There’s a pause. She doesn’t look up as Wayne asks, “Come again?”

She sighs again. Flicks her eyes up to stare directly at Wayne. “I want to see who was that boy they buried as Will.”

Wayne furrows his brows. Then the realization comes over him. “You-”

“I know it’s stupid and very illegal.” Joyce keeps her hands to herself so they don’t flail around, takes a step away from him. There’s something wrong with her in which every time she wants to be taken seriously, another thing happens that keeps testing Wayne’s patience for her.

She continues, “But I can’t stand it. I know in my heart and soul that whoever they found in that quarry just looks like Will, but it’s not him! If it was, they would’ve allowed an open casket or let me stay with him for a bit before-” Her breath shudders again. “I just want to know what the hell is going on!”

Joyce tears her gaze away from Wayne, staring at the ground as if it’ll rip open and spit Will back to her. “If you want to throw me into jail or Pennhurst for this, then go ahead. If you’re fed up with my ‘delusions’-” she spat the word, “then leave and forget about me.”

The silence drags for a horribly long time that Joyce can see their shadows extending before her eyes. Then Wayne’s feet shuffle out of her view. She closes her eyes, shivering from the cold catching up to her.

Then there’s a little nudge on her arm along with Wayne’s gruff voice speaking, “Alright, better now than later.”

Joyce blinks her eyes open, her jaw falling open at the sight of Wayne back to her side and holding out a shovel to her. While carrying the second, no less. “W-Wha-?”

“You’re right on a couple things.” Wayne interjects her kindly. “There’s some strange stuff happening around here these past few days. It has to do with our boys going missing and we both know they’re alive somewhere. If you’re beyond certain that the kid you saw being buried isn’t Will, then nothing hurts to check.”

Joyce almost wants to laugh. She almost asks Wayne if he’s losing it. But she sees that look in his eyes, the hard determination she’s seen in herself too. It gives her a spark of hope again.

She takes the offered shovel. She has to bite the insides of her cheek to keep some hysterical giddiness from showing. Staring into Wayne’s eyes, she says, “If you’re in this with me, for what we’re about to do, then you need to also help me out if we get caught by Hopper.”

Wayne gives out an exasperated sigh, but his mouth quirks up something resembling a smirk. “Let me double check my bail money first.”

—

As they drive up into the cemetery, it’s gotten dark enough that all of the headstones look like lumps. Undead potato lumps. A morbid joke that his sister Suzanna once shared with Wayne when they were kids and has somewhat stayed in his vocabulary. Once he slipped and said it around Eddie few years ago, who had gladly adopted the phrase.

“The grave’s over there.” Joyce frowns, pointing over to a direction behind them.

“And we’re going to stop here.” Wayne says, parking the truck at the very end of the road where the oldest areas of the cemetery start embracing the woods. “Wouldn’t want to park near your boy’s grave and get caught too soon.”

Joyce makes a small ah sound. Wayne cuts the engine and headlights off and they both get out. He takes the shovels from the truck’s back, along with a crowbar and a flashlight. Joyce raises an eyebrow at the crowbar but says nothing as she takes the flashlight and the lead to their destination.

They hurry further in half-crouches, carefully weaving around the other gravestones. The groundskeeper has night shifts for a reason and lord forbid if there’s any sneaking reporters hungry for pictures.

“Here.” Joyce whispers. There’s almost no need for her to point it out with the too-new marble headstone and bouquets of flowers are placed on the recently-buried dirt.

They stand together on the side, staring down at the ground. A little adrenaline rush of I am actually doing this comes down onto Wayne. He should feel ashamed of himself. That he should have listened to his logical side of not helping a grieving woman’s delusions and now it’ll start a landslide effect of following Al’s forbidden footsteps.

But he doesn’t feel anything. A little nerves, sure. But otherwise? He’s just calm. Nothing towards himself or Joyce.

Maybe he’s like this because a part of him already wants to dig up Eddie’s grave in the future just to hold his boy close for the last time.

Or it’s just the Munson thing.

He breathes slowly, repositioning his grip of his shovel and handing the other to Joyce.

She doesn’t take it. She stares down at the still-fresh dirt with a lost expression. “But what if I’m wrong? That all this time, this is Will and everyone was right but I’ve been denying it?”

“Then you’ll cry.”

She looks up, shooting him a baffled look.

“You’ll cry, either out of relief or grief.” He continues, nudging the shovel’s handle to her. “It’s the best any of us can do. And what happens next is up to you.”

Joyce’s eyes well up again but she shuts them tight, her expression shifting to the hard determination Wayne is already familiar with. She opens her eyes and takes the shovel in her hands. Then she gives him a single nod.

Wayne nods back and plunges the shovel’s blade into the dirt.

It’s less back-breaking than he expects. Benefits of growing up south and spending years at the plant, he supposes. The soil’s still loose enough so it might’ve helped easing their efforts. But his arms and knees start to ache after one and half feet in. Joyce’s already trembling at this point, pausing to catch her breath every minute or two.

“I’m not sitting down until we get to the damn casket.” Joyce pants out before Wayne opens his mouth. He wisely keeps it shut.

By the time their shovels hit polished wood, it’s fully dark and a absolute miracle that any groundskeeper hasn’t heard them. Yet. Wayne snatches the flashlight and kneels down to sweep the soil off while Joyce collapses to her feet.

“God.” She tilts her head back, seemingly regretting the motion as it brings some dirt falling on her hair. “I’d almost prefer Mr. Turlington’s gym classes to this.”

“If this was his grave, we would’ve made him proud. Hold this.” Wayne hands the flashlight to her.

“I can barely lift my arms!” Joyce protests, but she takes the flashlight, keeping the beam aimed at the head of the casket. Wayne feels his hands around the edges, shuffling more of the tightly pressed earth away.

He stands up, reaching out for the crowbar above. He moves slowly, feeling conscious of the fact that there is a young boy’s body inside. Any more quicker and heavier movement he and Joyce make might just break the casket itself.

“Did ya get the casket sealed?” He asks.

“No, finding the right casket itself was expensive enough.” Joyce winces right after she says it, as if paying for a casket by itself is the most shameful thing in the world. She eyes at the crowbar in his hands. “Why do you ask?”

“From what I heard, unsealed caskets are easier to reopen.” Wayne kneels back down, roughly scooping out a few handfuls of one wall so there’s a small pocket of space. He looks again at Joyce, silently asking are you sure about this?

She gives him an unwavering stare that all but replies with yes, get on with it.

Wayne wedges the crowbar to the side of the lid. He silently prays that this action won’t taint his memory for eternity and then pushes down on the crowbar with all of his might.

It takes about what feels like hours before a crack resounds and the casket opens. Wayne grabs onto the newly freed lid, pushing it up until the top hits the earthy wall.

Joyce makes a choked noise, almost close to a sob. Wayne himself recoils at the sight of Will Byers’ too-pale face, eyes softly shut as if he was just sleeping.

But the smell…

Wayne sniffs the air. Continues for a moment, unsure if his senses are messing with him. With his eyes still on the boy’s face, he asks, “Do you smell anything?”

A strained chuckle comes out of Joyce. “What?”

“Do you smell anything?”

Joyce falls silent before she starts sniffing. Then again with more consideration. “..No. Just the dirt.”

Wayne manages to tear his gaze away from the boy and back to Joyce. “Doesn’t matter how much chemicals you put in a body for preservation, the smell of rot comes back as soon it’s buried.”

Realization dawns on her face. Then she carefully crawls over next to him, ducking under Wayne’s arm as he still holds the lid up. Joyce looks down at the body and slowly reaches a hand out to the face of her son. She gently cups the cheek, bringing a terrified expression upon her before it shifts into a frown of doubt.

“Do- Do bodies always feel like plastic?” She asks slowly. Wayne looks at her with shared confusion and reaches out to touch the boy’s face. However, his hand must have been too slow or too quick because it instead brushes against Joyce’s.

She gives out a too-loud startled squeal, her head bumping hard against Wayne’s chin. He falls back, hearing a small groan from Joyce. In the process, he loses his grip on the lid and barely stops it from slamming shut by kicking his leg out and holding it up halfway. The weight’s gonna bruise it for days.

“Ow, oh, Wayne!” Joyce is suddenly fretting above him, rubbing the back of her head. “I’m so sorry! You didn’t mean to startle me that bad, it’s just the nerves and-”

“I’m alright.” Wayne means it, even if his chin and leg might not. He’s had worse than beginner’s level grave-robbing. “It’s my fault I scared ya.”

Joyce’s shaking her head. “No, really, I’m sorry-”

Wayne grunts as he slowly pushes himself up. “Would ya get the lid off my leg first?”

“Oh, of course!” Joyce scampers back, groaning with effort as she pushes the lid off. Wayne pulls his leg back to him, rubbing the bone carefully. Yep, he can feel a bruise coming.

“Wayne.” Joyce’s voice is very still.

He sits up more upright. “What’s wrong?”

Joyce doesn’t answer. Her back’s toward him, the flashlight still shining inside the casket. Wayne scoots closer, peering down to see-

Will’s head turned on the side, no longer attached to his body.

It feels like Wayne’s soul is exhumed out of his body all at once. His first thought is, oh lord I just decapitated a dead kid in front of his mother. But somehow through his panic, he notices that despite the damage, there’s not a spot of blood anywhere.

Joyce reaches her hand in again and picks up something. Holds it up close to the flashlight for a closer look.

It’s a wad of cotton.

Wayne checks the head and neck of the body. Thick wads of cotton sticks out of both ends.

“I knew this wasn’t Will.” Joyce whispers, her tone devoid of anything save a hint of triumph somewhere. “None of his moles match and there wasn’t even a birthmark.”

Wayne stays silent, staring down at the body that is not Will Byers. Who that half of the town came and mourned for just hours ago. All of this for a fake body.

“Wayne?”

Joyce’s looking at him, concerned. It feels terribly juxtaposed. A grieving mother sitting atop of her son’s fake body wanting to know if he’s alright.

“Did they tell ya who found the body?”

Joyce thinks for a moment before replying, “Not anyone specific. I think Hopper said it was somebody from the state.”

Wayne swallows but his throat’s too dry. He lifts his gaze up towards the sky at last. The stars are coming out. “Chief told me that the state’s taking over Eddie’s case.”

They both become quiet for a long time. Until they both catch a faint whistling tune of the groundskeeper. Then it’s a mad careful scramble out of there.

—

Brenner studies the new dummy on the table, taking a glance at the reference photographs laid out on the desk besides McNeil, who stands on the opposite side and poorly hiding his fidgeting.

There’s nothing wrong with McNeil’s works. It’s a masterpiece, much like the previous. Anyone who never touched a human body or kept on his payroll wouldn’t notice the difference.

But Brenner always sees flaws in perfection. That’s the duty in being a scientist. Running through the tests over and over until the subjects are one hundred plus ten percent faultless.

It always leaves a bitter taste on his tongue when he skips over a mistake, even for the sake of studying. He’s being more considerate these days after the disastrous cases with Henry and Eleven.

“Is this accurate to the boy’s measurements?” He asks. McNeil stops fidgeting and straightens up with an air of confidence that should be permanent.

“Yes, sir.”

Brenner eyes the small flock of bats and devilish marionette inked on the right arm. “Is this the only tattoos he has?”

“No, sir.”

“Then where are they?”

McNeil clears his throat, almost looking away from Brenner. “It’s difficult to perfect the other designs when there’s bare references of what they exactly look like. Tattoos are heavily variable, sir.”

Brenner sighs quietly in disappointment. He’ll save this discussion of incompetence much later, preferably once Eleven returns. “Then find the exact designs and make sure they match.” He looks down at the blank intimation of Eddie Munson’s face, thinking for a moment. “And give it the impression that it’s been deceased for longer than Will Byers-”

The door suddenly opens and Agent Sterling walks in with an annoyed expression. “We have an intruder.”

Brenner frowns. “I beg your pardon?”

She gestures for him to follow and he’s lead to the screening room of their security footage. One of them shows the police chief Jim Hopper cautiously walking through the basement level, undoubtedly heading to the room with Eleven’s gate.

Brenner can’t help but chuckle. That man truly wants to know more about what they are doing.

“Should we eliminate him?” Agent Sterling asks.

He shakes his head, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “No. Just tranquilize him and send him back home. Place our listening device somewhere in his residence as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

—

Taglist: @unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @hbyrde36 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot @tartarusknight @lyriclight @kodaik97 @plsdontdrinkmylavalamp @bookbinderbitch @gutterflower77 @soaringornithopher @angeldreamsoffanfic @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @manda-panda-monium @newtstabber @little-trash-ghost @niniel-karenine @tinyplanet95

[thedo0zyslider]

I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - Chapter Seven: Unjust Treatmnet - 10k Words

The Ocean Queen shows her true colors, which leads to a lot of talking between Jimmy and Fwhip.

(TW for Transphobia, thoughts of self harm, mention of deceased parent. A lot off heavy stuff in the sections marked by ~~ if you want to kip them. I cam/will provide a summary <33)

A03 Link

After the.…. reveal , as Fwhip had devided to call it, the trip to the Codlands didn't change much. Their schedule remains rather similar; wake up, eat breakfast (which quickly becomes awkward and painful if the Ocean Queen decides she's in a chatty mood that morning. Yes, Fwhip glares at her every time she speaks, getting him looks in return from the merfolk. No he does not  care. All these stuck up rich people could fuck off, for all he cared.) and then go do whatever they were needed for in the Codlands, Which was usually a lot, considering they were basically making a new empire from scratch. 

Before the last little bit, the Cod Empire, as it was now being called, had just been a small village. It couldn’t hold all the codfolk, so most of them were forced to live in the Ocean. Though from what Fwhip heard, they and the merfolk would like the cod in their own biome, in their own cities, and away from everyone else. So now, once more construction had been ordered, they had to make a sizable empire. And also plan all the buildings out, so the empire didn’t have a bunch of random houses placed randomly. Most of that had been done before Fwhip arrived though, so he was mainly saddled with getting materials and helping with a bit of infrastructure; as much as he could help with anyways, since he was still underage. 

His main job was to help Jimmy with most of the new ruler stuff he was having to do, occasionally accompanied by Pix whenever he came around. Which is a good thing with hindsight, because establishing a whole nation from scratch is hard and Jimmy had no idea what he was doing (to no fault of his own, of course.) The worst part was picking anyone who would work in the government, which the cod had in the form of a Council, because most of them decidedly did not like Jimmy. It came down to tensions between the Cod and Oceanfolk, as even though the Prince was literally a cod, he was Ocean born or whatever so people didn’t like him. Same thing had happened with his father, back in the day, according to Lizzie and Pix. Fwhip found the whole issue dumb and stupid, because at the end of the day they were all weird fish people, and ignored it best he could.

He figures, about halfway through all this and when the expanding village is a lot more stable, that his visit was a little early. The trip was probably planned a few weeks down the line, when there wasn’t as much work to do. Because, for all Fwhip tries to help, he’s a little in over his head helping Jimmy run things, on top of all the cultural differences between their empires he always forgets to account for.  But alas, shit had gone down at home, and he’d been sent off early. Not that the half dragon minded, because drowning himself in work or someone else’s problem was a great way to distract his own.

So minus a few surprise Pix visits, (because the man knows that he can pop up in any empire whenever he damn well pleases and fully takes advantage of that,) nothing much about their schedule changes. The one thing that does change however, is that Fwhip notices how Jimmy is treated in his own home. And frankly, it's disgusting. He knows very well how his mother treats him, and can easily fill in the gaps when he doesn’t see stuff. The castle staff aren't much better either, which earns them no kindness from the future Count, and Fwhip thinks the overall opinion of him in the palace is very, very low. Not that he cares much for these people’s opioids, but everyone can feel the way the mood shifts when he walks into the room, and he’s perfectly fine with that. Mood shifts are frequent at the Manor anyways, so he has some..…prior experience of being where he’s not wanted, if you could phrase it like that.

Lizzie is the biggest frustration, really. Fwhip doesn't get to see her very often, the princess always whisked away on some task her mother ordered, because learning to be queen is apparently a very busy job. So busy that she can't even spend a day with her own damn brother, much like it used to be when Gem still lived at the Manor. But, when the two of them do cross paths, it's often around the Ocean Queen herself. And Lizzie acts very differently around her mother, very different indeed. Enough to piss the half dragon off, too.

She seems to act like Jimmy isn't real, never sparing her brother a glance around the Queen. And when she does, the princess dances around gendering him. Like she doesn't want to misgender him, but also doesn't want her mother's ire turned on her. And Fwhip can get that fear, he truly can, but really? There has to a point, where supporting your sibling is more important than whatever scolding or harsh words that Lizzie might receive, and he feels like this situation fucking crossed that line. 

Fwhip can't even imagine, if Gem were in the same position, doing nothing as their parents treated her like that. Of just sitting there and dancing around the subject like Lizzie does. The thought of it makes him feel disgusted. The ginger knows he couldn't even live with himself if he let her be treated that way, especially if he could do something to stop it. Their parents already mistreat the both of them in different ways, and it's half the reason he fights with his mother so much. Because he knows and he hears the things she says, and isn't going to stand for it. Not when it comes to Gem. 

They might’ve just had the worst fight they've ever had ever , but she's still his baby sister. Even if they're both fucked up and disagreeing with each other, Gem’s still his twin. She's always been there for him, for his whole life she's been there. The young wizard was the one person who'd been there for everything, and had seen the parts of him that even Sausage hadn't seen. (The worst ones, the ones that were ugly and broken and angry at everything and everyone, regardless if they'd ever wronged him.) She's the sole reason he didn't just run away during the divorce, because he couldn't leave her to shoulder all that alone, even when it hurt him so much to stay. Fwhip had known leaving Gem would hurt a lot more than anything at home ever did.

That's why he's so upset with Lizzie. It takes a fair bit of reflection to figure out, but all of that is the reason. Because despite everything, despite every horrible thing they'd ever said or done to each other, his sister was still his sister at the end of the day. And he couldn't imagine just leaving her to suffer like that, especially if he saw how much it hurt. Because every time Lizzie or the Ocean Queen leaves them, he catches a glimpse of how Jimmy’s expression twits in pain. Or in frustration or anger or just pure sadness . (Which usually comes after a rather stiff interaction with his older sister, and is usually masked by a very familiar frustration.) Or how his fist clench and his tail lashes and how much it clearly hurts to live with a sibling who won't even try to protect him. 

And in the two or so weeks Fwhip’s at the castle he sees and hears a lot. He hears the arguments they try to keep quiet, because their guest is always somewhere nearby one of them. He sees how Lizzie goes to Joel’s a few times, but Jimmy has to stay and how much the cod clearly wants to go, but can't because the two of them have been tethered together against their wills. He sees how Jimmy leaves him to go comfort Lizzie on bad days, when their mother gets too much for her, or the both of them, and hears bits of the quiet comfort he attempts to give his older sister. Even if it doesn’t always work, he's still trying , a lot more than she is for him. 

(Because despite the horrible hand he's been dealt, Jimmy is still stupidly kind and caring, and the half dragon doesn't think that's going to change, not ever, not for anything. The Ocean Prince is too stubborn to change like that. He thinks it makes the cod a better man than him too. He almost ran away for suffering what he believed was less, and almost left Gem because of it. If he was in Jimmy’s position, he would've disappeared into the ocean never to return, or started a goddamn villain arc by now.

He has to wonder why Jimmy even stays anymore, and figures that's a question for another day.) 

And Fwhip likes Lizzie. He really does. The princess isn't as annoying as her brother, isn't so dead set on throwing insults at him. She's funny, she's talented, she's kind and has all sorts of charming little quirks, and she's been a good friend. Even if she is a fish. Which is why this sucks so much. Because he likes being Lizzie's friend, but can't force himself to be okay with her behavior. 

Fwhip knows she has her own problems, because all of them do, and he doesn't want to downplay them. The ginger just really wishes she would do better. Not even for him, or herself, just for Jimmy. Just for her brother, nothing else.

He just wishes she would be a better sister. It would make life a whole lot easier for both of the siblings, that’s for certain. And make this trip a lot less painful for him as well.

Fwhip spends the whole trip wishing that, after the reveal, and feels frustration twist in his gut whenever she dances around Jimmy. He gets it now, why that sour look is on the cod’s face half the time. The half dragon thinks he even mirrors it, sometimes, when his anger gets too much and he has to bite his tongue before he lashes out, and gets sent home early. He thinks he understands why Jimmy would rather go be stressed about the whole empire he now has to run, rather than spend twenty minutes alone with his mother. And he’s not even the one living here twenty four seven.

And that’s how a lot of the days on this home away from home are. Wake up, glare daggers at half the castle, leave, snap at Jimmy, run around the disgusting and mud-filled swamp for hours, then they return back to the Prisma Palace for even more suffering and even more moments where Fwhip has to reel in his temper. Because, as much as he wants to punch someone, he doesn’t want to go home and face his parents, or Gem. Not just yet. And also it would probably backfire on Jimmy, if nothing else. He’d feel too horrible, if something bad happened and it was his temper’s fault again; if he broke anymore bridges with his stupid outbursts and stupid problems.

A lot of times now, the half dragon can’t help but simply feel bad for the guy. The feeling overriding all his dislike of the cod on most days. And maybe, if they can find some common ground like this again, their arrangement can be…tolerable, at best. Maybe…

_____________________________

One day, on one of the rare days they have nothing to do, Jimmy decides to show him the castle gardens. The cod says they’re going there because he’s bored, and likes how pretty the gardens are. Jimmy says it’s his favorite part in the house, because no one will bother him there, not even Lizzie. And yeah, Fwhip can’t disagree with that. The Manor’s gardens were a pretty quiet place back home, where he always went after a bad day or if he just needed some alone time. So the gardens in the Prisma Palace can’t be that bad, especially if they’re an escape from Jimmy’s hellish household.

And the gardens were nice, Fwhip found when they got there. They actually exceeded his expectations, the water flora being quite pretty. Some of the gardens were above the water, along with lily pads and other sea grasses. The rest of it, like the other half of the palace, was below water, and contained fish swimming through the plants. It was nothing like anything he’d seen back home, and the ginger found himself staring at the garden the whole time in wonder.

He and Jimmy don’t talk much, content to do their own thing for the handful of hours they stay in the garden. Fwhip, like the nerd he is, pulls out a small notebook from one of his coats' various pockets. He always keeps this one on him, and the pages are worn and full of old notes and sketches he did whenever he had an idea, but was away from his normal workspace at home. The ginger flips to an empty page, one randomly placed in the notebook, before fishing a pencil out of his other pocket to begin sketching.

He occupied himself with something he’d been wanting to do for a while, which was taking sketches and notes of the plants and animals in the Ocean Empire. He was sure he would return to it eventually, maybe in a few years, but the future Count wanted a head start on his project. He always liked seeing how his personal notes updated and changed overtime anyways, and he was very curious how that would go this time around. Fwhip had never really studied aquatic organisms before, or paid them much mind, so there was a lot he had to learn.

His passion for this hobby had come in his younger years, when the half dragon first became interested in farming, around the age of nine or so. He’d always wanted to help around the farms, and still found the work rewarding to this day. But at the start, it had been very hard for him to remember everything the farmers were teaching him, or what breed of animal was what, the information easily getting jumbled up in his brain. His mother had come up with a solution, after he’d gotten particularly upset one day, buying him his first notebook, and telling him to write things down. She said it always helped her with remembering spells, and to give it a try. If that didn’t work, then she said they would find another method. Nowadays, Fwhip considered it one of the few good things the woman had ever done for him, and longed for his younger years when she’d been kind and caring towards both her children.

This particular notebook, the first he’d gotten on his own, was one he had for years now, and it’s nearly filled up. He bought or made all his notebooks with the intent of them lasting years, resulting in them being two times chunkier when he finished them. Not that Fwhip minded in the slightest. The very first pages of this one were filled with old sketches, some maybe four years old, from when he had first been allowed to work on the farms. All of the crops of his homeland (which were mainly different types of potatoes, with a bit of wheat and carrots thrown in) were sketched, each with a page dedicated to facts and little notes about how they grew under certain conditions. He’d also gone out of his way to sketch various livestock, most of them being cows or chickens. Though there was the occasional blood sheep drawing thrown in here and there, from whenever Mythland gifted them one. Or when a herd wandered too far from home, as the creepy little things tended to do.

Fwhip gave all his old sketches a fond but brief glance as he idly flipped through the pages, waiting for a fish or something to be visible. He’d already drawn all the plants he could see, and mourned the loss of the strictly underwater life. Now it was a matter of watching the beautiful scenery, and hoping he could get a good enough look at a fish, or other stray sea life,  to note some stuff down. The little guys did swim pretty damn fast.

(He made a mental note to ask Jimmy some questions later, during one of those times they weren’t scowling at each other. He needed the cod to see his plant drawings so he could properly name them, and would have to avoid him catching a glance of anything salmon related in the notebook. And, because he knew the blonde would ask, Fwhip would rather stab himself than add a cod to his scared pages, thank you very much.)

Jimmy sat a few feet away the whole time, much closer to the water than the half dragon was. His feet were dipped in the water, brown pants legs rolled up to keep them dry, kicking at the sea every so often. Fwhip would sometimes hear him muttering in codlish, or oceanic, and made a whole separate page in the notebook, for whenever he picked up a sound or a letter. The cod would be communicating to whatever fish came over, something Fwhip honestly forgot he could do, and would switch the language accordingly. Sometimes it even sounded like he was mixing the two. The ginger really should’ve tried to learn oceanic, at least, considering he hadn’t been able to understand a lot of conversation for the whole trip. But that was something he could ask Lizzie about later, when she doesn’t feel so upset at her anymore.

They spend at least two hours in the gardens, maybe more. Just….sitting there, alone together. It’s the most peaceful time he’s ever had in Jimmy’s presence in the two or so years that they’ve known each other. It’s nice, to not argue, or to not be actively annoyed by something. It’s nice to finally have a day to relax, and let his brain slow down for once. His thoughts are always going a hundred miles an hour, so Fwhip savers any moment where they stop, no matter how long or short it is.

Eventually, though, they do have to leave. Jimmy walks over, and gives the half dragon a light tap on his shoulder, startling him out of his skin. Fwhip shuts his notebook with a snap , giving the other a small glare. Jimmy just rolls his eyes, and promptly turns to the garden's entrance. The ginger decides he’s going to ignore that disrespect, wanting to keep his peaceful mood for as long as possible, and reluctantly starts to follow the Cod Prince back into the castle.

~~ When they’re walking back inside Is when it happens, when the Ocean Queen catches them, and when everything goes more than a little downhill that day. Neither of them even know what she wants them for, other than to possibly them dodging the family breakfast this morning. Jimmy said he didn’t have the energy, emotionally, to deal with that today, and Fwhip had agreed. He didn’t have the patience for Lizzie and whatever looks he’d inevitably receive, so agreeing to just hide out for a little while was a no brainer. And then they had ended up in the gardens, an hour before noon, and now they were here. Caught right in the act of slacking.

Jimmy’s dead name echoes off the wall, loud and deafening, along with his mother's distinct voice, a few seconds after the ginger first hears her footsteps approaching. The first thing Fwhip thinks upon hearing it is that he never wants to hear it again, not ever again in relation to the boy beside him. It feels so wrong just to hear it said every time he hears a whisper of it, like a sin of some kind, because that is not his fucking name.

Beside him, Jimmy stiffens instantly, but says nothing. He even looks like he's going to respond to his mother, after she just called him that. Which, no , absolutely not . He’s sick of just having to sit here and watch them disrespect Jimmy like this, and it's made him ballsy. The half dragon turns around to the Queen before the cod can, before Fwhip himself even realizes what he's doing, tail lashing. He'll stand for a lot of things he probably shouldn't, a lot of things Jimmy himself would disapprove of, and he knows that, but this isn't fucking one of them. 

"His name's Jimmy! " Fwhip snaps, glaring daggers at the Ocean Queen, at least a week's worth of frustration very evident in his tone. Beside him, the cod prince goes completely stiff, and his face falls in what has to be horror.

"Young Count," The Queen narrows her eyes in response, her voice low and her words picked carefully. Deliberately . "Glad to see you're starting to get along with your…" She trails off to clear her throat, right before saying the worst words Fwhip has heard in recent memory. And he hears some shit from his parents' mouths.  "..future wife." 

The half dragon thinks he sees red for a minute, glaring daggers at the Queen. It's not often you do that to other royalty. It’s not often that he does that to anyone, even his other family members; and they really know how to piss him off. “Future husband .” He spits out the retort, feeling his tail lash with anger again.

“Fwhip…please.” Jimmy begs him, going to tug at his hand. The blonde’s broken out of his horror, and it is very clear that he wants to leave, to run away, now . The half dragon just stands his ground, only managing to keep his tail under control. He is not as successful with his temper, because he never is and probably never will be.

"You should listen to her, young Count." The Queen continues, giving a glance at her son. Fwhip really wants to know what she’s conveying with it, because it makes Jimmy get even more upset beside him. "Before I report this to one of your parents."

"You mean him. " Fwhip corrects again, holding back an angry huff. He doesn't give a shit if the Queen tells his parents, he doesn’t care what anyone tells them about his behavior. If anything, this specifically will just make them think less of her. They can't punish him anyways, not in a way he hasn’t worked around before.

"Fwhip, let's go. There was that thing I wanted to show you." Jimmy says again, now pleading. He tugs on the ginger’s arm, hard enough to start pulling him the opposite direction. Fwhip holds back a growl, not enjoying being tugged around. The half dragon has to stop himself from turning around and snapping at the cod; instead taking a few deep breaths before his impulses can get the better of him. He’s not mad at Jimmy , he shouldn’t get mad at him right now. It’s his mom who’s the problem, who’s making him so upset. 

“I-” He starts to protest again, the growl being squashed before it can leave his throat. He is not going to get unfairly mad at Jimmy and snap at him. He’s not , it’s not his fault-

" Fwhip. " Jimmy hissed, low and panicked. It's the fear in his voice that gets through to the half dragon, that pushes through his anger. He knows how fighting back can make things worse, and he doesn't want to make things worse for Jimmy. He really, really doesn't want to make things worse for him. So Fwhip stops trying to argue his point, and backs down. 

"Fine, Jimmy. Fine. " He says, letting himself be tugged away. But not without one last glare at the Ocean Queen. The royal says nothing, just watches them disappear around the corner of the hallway. The ginger feels her piercing, near angry, gaze on his backside until it’s gone, and has to press down the shiver that it causes. Jimmy doesn’t say anything, doesn't even look over his shoulder like he normally might. He just pulls them into a nearest room, one of the unused guest bedrooms, to hide away for a little bit. They’re doing a lot of hiding today, and Fwhip, whose limbs are shaking with leftover rage, can’t say he really minds.

Once the two of them are in private again, Jimmy hugs him. Well, sort of. It's more of an awkward side hug, the cod having to lean down slightly to even do so. Fwhip doesn't protest as Jimmy buries his face in his shoulder, the blonde's whole body going completely slack as the tension leaves him. Fwhip holds him there, and resists the protective older sibling urge to move him closer, hold him tighter. Like he always did to Gem when she was upset… (Even if he only is older by a few seconds, bit still, older sibling urges regardless.)

"You good?" He asks, resting a hesitant hand on the taller boy's backside. He hopes it's as soothing as he thinks it is, and maybe he's right. The cod does lean into the touch just a little, going even more slack against him. Once again, Fwhip can’t help but just….feel bad for this idiot, as weird as it would’ve felt too not even a month ago. 

Jimmy’s next words are very muffled, as he presses his face harder into the half dragon’s shoulder. As if to stop himself from crying. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"No. You're shaking." Fwhip huffed, drawing Jimmy closer. He was giving into those protective urges, that might be a mix of dragon and older sibling being in him. It’s the wobbly tone and slight voice crack that makes him fold, in all honesty. He was never very good at resisting anyone balling their eyes out, or getting simply teary eyed.

Jimmy mutters again, even more muffled. "Heh. Figured." He isn’t saying much, not yet, and the half dragon decides to give him a few minutes. The eventual Feelings Talk can wait, just for a little bit. But it has to happen before they leave the room because holy fuck he’d just yelled at Jimmy’s abusive mom in her own kingdom.

"I hate your mom. I hate her so much." He says, letting himself give in. Fwhip lets himself fully hug Jimmy, surprised when the other holds him back, and buries his face into messy blonde hair. His limbs have stopped shaking with anger, thankfully, and causes his hold to be a lot more steady than he thought it would.

"Tell me about it." Jimmy snorts, sounding amused. And also snotty. The ginger will be politely ignoring the slight dampness on his coat for the next few seconds, even if it really bugs him. It’s not about him right now, it’s about Jimmy and his dumb mom and his dumb house and how he can’t catch a fucking break half he time-

"Let's get one thing straight, yeah?" Fwhip says, interrupting his own thoughts and nudging the cod a little. Jimmy looks up slowly, curious despite his better judgment, and meets a harsher gaze than he expected. His gaze is all sad and wobbly, like a sad little dogs’, while the half dragon’s eyes hold a ferocity and determination for what he’s about to say next. Truly a great reflection of everything about this situation, really.

"I still do not want to marry you," He growls gently, rage at the Ocean Queen still lingering as he stops hugging the other, and takes the cod’s face in his hands. His hold isn't too harsh, but it's just enough to pinch a little; to really hammer in what he's saying here. "But if I have to, you're gonna be my husband . Not my wife. Never my wife. You understand?" 

"Yeah….." Jimmy almost hiccups out the words, his eyes instantly going all watery again. But he doesn’t spill over, not yet, just sniffles a few times and tries to keep his composure for a little bit longer. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me for common courtesy." Fwhip snorts, and Jimmy really looks like he’s about to cry after hearing that. The future Count goes to shush him, still acting on those older sibling instincts. Jimmy just shakes his head, sniffles once more, and tries his best to wipe away the tears now pricking at his eyes.

"Sorry I just…no one really stands up for me like that. Other than Joel…" The cod mumbles, not being able to do much as his cheeks are dampened. He’s very clearly trying not to sob, and it’s failing pretty miserably. He also sounds ashamed of himself, of crying and being treated nicely. Fwhip wants to punch whatever adult made him feel bad about crying like this, even knowing that’s probably his mom again, realistically. 

"Then they need to do better." He says, thumbing tears away without even thinking and pushing away old memories of a younger, smaller Gem, crying much like the blonde is now. Those are thoughts for much, much later, when he’s not holding the saddest boy he thinks he’s ever met in his hands.

"I know…" Is the last thing Jimmy says, before the dam breaks and he just sobs . Fwhip doesn’t saying anything, only gently moves them both down to the floor, and holds the cod as he hiccups. They’re not chest to chest like they probably should be, Fwhip’s not comforting him like he probably should be, but he thinks it's enough. He mutters kind nothings into the silence and wipes Jimmy’s tears the best he can, the other hiccupping and letting out wet sobs with every breath. It takes ten very long minutes for the tears to finally stop, for the blonde’s breathing to finally even out, his tears abating for now. The half dragon thumbs away the wetness on Jimmy’s face one last time before pulling his hands away, and has to wonder how many years’ worth of tears that was.

“Thank you for doing it, though.” Jimmy says when he’s a bit more composed, leaning his head against the wall. He looks up at the ceiling, not sniffling anymore, but looking a little despondent. Fwhip can't help but worry for his enemy, more than a little bit too. Jimmy’s normally very good at not showing how horrible he feels, much to his own detriment most likely. 

He starts to repeat his earlier sentiment, and is quickly and surprisingly cut off. Which is weird, Jimmy normally lets him speak, unless he’s really snappy or something. “Don't-”

“No, thank you.” The cod repeats, sounding a little firmer. An indication he's not just saying thank you for getting basic respect. That this is different. That this is so much bigger than Fwhip ever could’ve thought. “I wasn't….I wouldn't be doing good without you or Joel.”

The cod takes a deep breath, like he has to keep himself from crying again. He also just….. stares at his wrists for a few seconds, and the half dragon feels a horrible little lightbulb going off in his head before Jimmy even speaks; because he fucking gets it so much it hurts . “I don't know what I would've done if ..”

He doesn't say what he would've done, but Fwhip gets a pretty good idea. A pretty good idea that without Joel, Jimmy wouldn’t fucking be here . He latches himself onto Jimmy as he speaks, hugging the other boy tight. The cod makes a strangled sound, and buries his face into messy ginger hair. The half dragon never thought he'd be hugging this guy twice in one day, but fuck their stupid rivalry. This was a lot more important, so, so much more important.

“God you are such a mess .” Fwhip muttered, his face buried against Jimmy’s neck. He tightens his grip, a million horrible scenarios racing though his stupid brain. That’s all he says on the matter, partly because he doesn’t know what to say, and partly because his gut is twisting itself into knots of horror and fear as they speak.

“I know.” Jimmy mumbles, with what sounds like a weak laugh. His own grip on the other tightens in response as well. “Thought I should mention it, so you know what you're dealing with. All of it, I mean.” He explains, and Fwhip gives the best nod he can. The future Count is going to help Jimmy the best he can, he couldn't just not after these last few days; after today especially.

“Does Lizzie know?” He asks. They should probably talk properly, face to face, but Fwhip doesn't want to let go. Not yet. Not until all of him is convinced that Jimmy is okay, that he is still here and breathing underneath him. 

“Only you and Joel.” The cod hums. It feels like he's calmed down, as he isn't trying to hide tears anymore. That or he can just suddenly cry without his whole chest heaving. And for all Fwhip knows, that’s some weird fish ability he;s never heard of before. “I don't know if I can tell her, or if she would do anything about it.”

“Of fucking course.” The half dragons says, still not ready to let go. Of course Jimmy can’t trust his older sister with anything. And why would he? After all the behavior Fwhip’s seen her display, he knows he wouldn’t trust her either. He wouldn’t trust anything with anyone in the castle, if he was in Jimmy’s shoes, and doesn’t blame the other for feeling that way in the goddamn slightest.

Jimmy makes an amused sound, one that’s probably not fitting the current mood. “Yeah. Yeah.” He hums, now resting his cheek on top of Fwhip’s head. Just for a few minutes, until they untangle themselves. Just until no one needs comfort anymore and the two of them can go back to never touching ever again. And after a few more minutes of just holding each other, Fwhip feels like he can let go. Like the cod won’t vanish as soon as he stops holding him. So slowly, the two boys separate, and the half dragon rushes to fill the silence as soon as they do. ~~

"Why'd you pick Jimmy?" Fwhip sits next to the cod now, cross-legged and his tail flicking behind him. It’s a question he’s been wondering for a few days now, and there hasn’t been a better time to ask it than now, and there probably won’t be one again; knowing the two of them. "I mean, it suits you, but I'm just wondering."

Jimmy hums out an explanation, going to idly fiddle with the pendant he always wears. It’s from his father, if Fwhip remembers correctly. "Well, I actually picked James, but Jimmy is a common nickname for it. Lizzie started calling me that one day."

Fwhip nods, and resists the urge to glance down, at where the cod’s wrists lay. That’s exactly what he’s trying not to think about, so he won’t. He won’t, he’ll keep talking so he can keep his mind away from all the things he would never want to consider becoming real. “I get it, you know, the name thing.”

“Oh?” Jimmy says, curious. There’s also a little undertone of caution, of worry in his voice, and Fwhip can’t help but appreciate it.

“It's not the same as you but…..they did name me FailWhip.” He says, like it’s an easy fact of his life. Like his birth name didn’t horrible fuck with his mindset as a child, like he didn’t have to fight tooth and nail to shorten it to what his name currently is. Like his parents ever understood why he hated it. Like the knowledge that it even happened, that it was there, still dones’t fuck with his head to this day.

But he says it easily, for Jimmy’s sake, because it is not his turn to talk about his baggage. And also, he doesn’t really want to get into all of that, not right now. That’s for a different terrible day, sometime a little while in the future.

Jimmy’s voice is very quiet when he next speaks, and he sounds horrified. “That's….horrible.” He sounds so sorry for Fwhip. Part of him appreciates it, the other part doesn’t want pity over this. He decides to let it go in the end, after a few minutes of quiet deliberation.

“And legally changed, after a lot of fights about it.” Fwhip huffs, and moves the concentration on again. He’s glad he and Jimmy can relate a bit about names, really he is. But this brings up some unpleasant memories, ones that started and showed the cracks even before his family had split, when he was younger. And he doesn’t like remembering them, plus the extra questions he had about Jimmy’s transition, so he just moves on like it never happened; and ignores how a comforting hand was put on top of one of his. “Can I ask something else? About your transition?”

“Sure.” The cod sounds appreciative at the question, though Fwhip is sure his sudden topic changes aren’t going unnoticed. He doesn’t like them either, and would rather not do it, but his emotions have been everywhere since just a bit ago. The half dragon doesn’t imagine JImmy’s doing better either, so it’s fine . That’s what he tells himself, anyways.

 “Are you on testerone or anything..? I'm just curious, that's all.” Fwhip asks, genuinely curious about all this. They haven’t had the chance to discuss this topic much, and he wants to learn more. Plus, by the way the blonde’s face lights up, he doesn’t get these questions much, and is way more than happy to answer them.

“Nope, but I tried to get some. Mom wouldn't approve of it.” Jimmy said, his tail flicking behind him, kinda cat like. The conversation was far too easy, far too normal of a thing for them to be having. It’s certainly not something that would’ve happened before. Neither of the boys really noticed at the moment, too wrapped up in what the other was talking about for the first time in….while. (Fwhip will think back on it one day, admit the feeling was nice, and then shove it away to the deepest depths of his mind once again.) “She used the dumb excuse of it messing with my other health issues.” Jimmy rolls his eyes a bit on the last part, his voice souring as well at the memory.

Fwhip gets concerned for a minute, and wonders if there’s more stuff he’ll need to watch over in the future. He finds himself totally unburdened by the thought of making sure Jimmy is okay, mentally and physically, especially if no one else in his life (sans Joel) would even make an attempt too. “Health issues?”

“Forgot you didn't know about that.” Jimmy says, smiling a little sheepishly as he explains. “I've had health issues since I was a baby, because my egg was small and damaged. They're not that bad anymore though. She still wouldn't give parental permission for any hormones anyways…” Fwhip nods, after considering all of that and decides he shouldn’t have to worry. Not too much anyways, if Jimmy’s been managing all these months with little to zero complications. After that, they fall into a comfortable silence, the ginger running out of trans-related questions to ask the cod.

It’s quiet until Jimmy speaks again, muttering softly into the silence, like he’s scared the wrong person will hear him. Even if there’s no one but the future Count here to listen. "Sometimes I wish my dad were here, instead of my mum." 

"Would he be more…accepting of you?" The half dragon asks the question a little hesitantly, not having heard much about the late Ocean King. He knows the cod people weren’t fond of him, Lizzie misses him dearly, and that Jimmy wears his pendant despite never meeting the man; and that is all he’s gathered so far. Undsertanbly, the family doesn’t like talking about their late relative much, especially if his death was upsetting, like their behavior seems to imply just a little bit. (Maybe it’s why Jimmy’s mom is such a backside, the one person that could tolerate her is gone…)

"Yeah, Lizzie seems to think so anyways. She said he was always much nicer than mum is." Jimmy hums, a bit louder. He’s still pretty quiet though, subbed by thoughts of someone he wishes he got to know. If only for a little bit, even if only as a tiny egg or baby. "He always wanted a son too, apparently."

That leads Jimmy onto another subject not even five minutes later, one more related to the both of them. "That's why they picked us to get married, y'know?" The blonde asks, giving the ginger a rather knowing look. Some bad feeling is already starting to settle in the half dragon’s bones, and his tail flicks in a slight upsetness. 

"Because…." Fwhip prompts. He’s pretty sure he gets it, or at least where the blonde is going with this. But he doesn’t want to speak the words. This is Jimmy’s story to tell, after all, and they would taste like ash on his tongue if he did speak them aloud.

Jimmy confirms what he’s thinking, and the half dragon feels his stomach drop and some nasty feeling twist in his gut. "Because to her I'm not a boy."

"But Lizzie-" His protests are weak, even to his own ears, and sound like words of someone who’d never had the misfortune of meeting the Ocean Queen.

"Lizzie's too important to be married off like this. She's the heir to the throne, she has to learn to be queen or whatever. So mom picked me…" The cod cuts him off, going on a ramble before he can even stop himself. These are words he’s probably been wanting to say for a year and a few months now, and Fwhip can only imagine how satisfying it must be to finally say the truth, after all this time suffering in silence. He knows his own heart would feel a lot lighter if he would just do the same to Gem, back at home…

"And Gem….Gem is a girl. And they can't marry two girls together, can they?" It all comes into place there, how back when they were first told off the arrangement, Jimmy and his mother had glared at each other. And she had won the nonverbal argument they were having, and her son had been withdrawn and stiff for the rest of the day. 

Fwhip has never wanted to punch someone more in his life. And he shouldn't, because she's a queen, but he really, really fucking wants too. 

"I bet they still want us to make an heir still. It's probably in the agreement somewhere." Jimmy mumbles, voice breaking. He says it like he knows for a fact that detail is in the agreement, and not like he’s guessing. The prince is so certain of it, like his mother had made sure he knew exactly what she wanted. Jimmy sounds disgusted at the thought as well, and disturbed. Fwhip finds that he shares the sentiment.

"Absolutely not." The half dragon says, keeping his voice firm. They’re not fulfilling that part of the agreement. They can do the rest of it, but never that part, for both of their sakes, but mainly Jimmy’s. They're not having a baby, that can be Lizzie's job. 

"Thank cod." Jimmy mumbles, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He seems so incredibly relieved and happy by that answer, Fwhip kinda wants to reach over and hug him for a third time that day; for some reason he can’t place.

~~ Unfortunately, that is about the time one of the maids, presumably doing her daily cleaning, finds them. Both boys jump when the door is opening, scrambling further away from each other. They weren’t doing anything, but that sure made it look like they were. The maid spluttered a bit, her voice almost coming out as a yell when she spoke. "You two shouldn't be in a room alone, it's not proper!" She says, glaring at both the young rulers like they’d actually done something wrong .

"It's not the first time!" Fwhip retorts, immediately going on the disrespect. And also catching onto why this might be considered ‘improper,’ his blood beginning to boil before he even gets the question out of his mouth. "And why is it not proper, huh?"

"Fwhip-" Jimmy small protest is cut off, the maid speaking over him. Though the half dragon does have time to give the cod a quick glare, one that’s warning him to shut up. To let him handle this. To let him protect the blonde just this once . 

The maid begins, voice overlapping with Jimmy’s, and is getting cut off as soon as the young cod is, the half dragon’s temper snapping like a twig in the woods. “A young man and-"

"Well luckily for you, we're both young men. So piss off." Fwhip snaps, giving the woman the most annoyed glare he can muster. She does not, in fact, piss off despite the orders too. So the ginger repeats himself, knowing full well the castle staff have to listen to him because of who his parents are. Even if they all think he’s a little shit. (He doesn't normally like that privilege, but he’ll use it when it can benefit him, like right about now.) "You heard me. Piss off."

The maid glares at him for a moment, before huffing and turning heel. She doesn’t close the door when she leaves, but the maid does leave it ajar. Fwhip feels himself growl as he watches her leave, and there’s a scowl on his face when he turns back to Jimmy. ~~

“We should make out just to spite her.” He grumbles, a little pissed off all over again. The half dragon hated the people in this castle, hated how they talked about Jimmy. He hated it more than words could ever describe, only growls, tail lashing and other noises feeling right enough to convey it most of the time.

Jimmy snorts, a little amused. He pushes Fwhip away, nose wrinkling at the thought. Though with less disgust than would normally be there, no doubt. “No offense, but gross. Not with you.”

“I expected as much.” Fwhip says, rolling his eyes maybe a little fondly. Maybe in just a tiny bit of amusement. “That wasn't serious, by the way.” He adds, remembering earlier conversions about them……er, feeling for each other, and wanting to avoid anything like that from ever happening between them. 

“Thank cod.” Jimmy sighs, sounding really relieved, and that is where they decided to call it a night. Or a day, considering the sun hasn’t quite set. They sneak back towards their rooms, skipping dinner, just like they had skipped breakfast and a little bit of lunch, not caring how hungry they are or the consequences not eating much will have later on. Fwhip doesn’t want to see anyone else in this dumb palace for the rest of the day, and has no complaints when Jimmy drags him into his bedroom. He has no other complaints when, a few hours later, they both end up falling asleep in the same room.

Fwhip knows he probably wouldn;t be able to sleep, alone in his room, after all the stress and new information from today. He just needs to be by Jimmy for one night, until his anxieties are quelled, and then the two of them can finally go back to normal for the rest of this dumb stupid little trip.

_____________________________

A few days later, Fwhip’s trip is up. He has to go home now, and leave the Ocean back to its normal life. So, the night before, he hastily packs everything, and does several double checks to make sure he doesn’t leave anything. He doesn’t know when he’ll next see Jimmy, after all, and likes having his stuff with him when he can. And in the morning, after one last search of his guest room, he depearts before breakfast, just like he’s been ordered too, and starts making his way to the castle gates. (It only took him a few weeks to be confident in finding it….totally navigable castle… yep ..) As he walks, a certain prince joins him, and, for the last time on this trip, Fwhip finds no desire to shoo him away.

“Sorry for making you deal with all my problems.” Jimmy says, now walking him towards the castle’s entrance. His tail drags on the ground behind him, and Fwhip wonders if the cod will miss him. If he’ll be lonely now. (He secretly wonders if he will be too…) “I didn’t want this trip to be depressing, but it kinda was.”

“Don’t sweat it, it got me outta the house. And it would've been hard to ignore some parts.” Fwhip shrugs easily, bumping his tail with the blonde’s on purpose, playful. Maybe something like that would lighten the mood. He doesn’t know. The half dragon isn’t a people person, or a fish one. Never had been, never will be.

Jimmy bumps his tail back on purpose, the smallest of smiles flashing across his face. “Yeah.” His plan to be playful worked! Score one for Fwhip, score zero for social anxiety. Truly a massive win for him indeed, considering how many of his social attempts have failed before over the years.

“I don’t want anything fake anyways. I hate when people are fake for their stupid image or whatever.” The half dragon says honestly, giving the cod’s tail another return bump, one that’s a little stronger than before. “I just want the real people.” 

“Heh, okay.” Jimmy laughs, a real one this time. Maybe one of the few real ones he;s had in weeks. And then, before either of the boys know it, they are at the gate and the guards are going to help Fwhip depart. “See you later.” Jimmy calls that one last thing to him with a smile, already starting to back away and go back towards his little hell home. The whole ordeal truly feels a little wistful, for whatever reason, like they are old friends seeing each other off for the last time. Or something dumb and sappy like that.

“Whatever, nerd!” Fwhip calls over his shoulder, not hearing whatever Jimmy responds with, and before he knows it he is on the track back home. Back to the Grimlands. And he has a lot to wonder over, in those few hours it takes to get home. Like that strangely friendly goodbye he’d just had with Jimmy , of all the people in his social circle. And everything that’s happened over the past few weeks, to him and the Cod Prince alike, and how they’re going to act going forward. Because it’s certainly going to be very, very different from how they acted and treated each other, that's for certain.

The trip to the codlands…..does something to their relationship. Fwhip doesn't know how to describe it, other than he can barely stand the young cod half the time. Until someone starts calling him a girl, then he can more than tolerate him. Then the half dragon is willing to defend his future fiancé in any way he can. 

It's funny, they're funny like that. They hate each other, they both bully each other, even if the half dragon is arguably the instigator half the damn time. But he won't stoop to that level, and he won't let anyone else do so either. Fwhip thinks Jimmy even trusts him now, to a certain degree. Which he can't really blame the blonde for. If he lived in that horrible of a household, he would trust the first person who so much as respected him too. Though hopefully Jimmy can get away from it all, now that he's scheduled to spend more time with the codfolk….

God's, he's sitting here worrying about Jimmy of all people. That's what he meant when saying this did something to their relationship. It made them care about each other in some weird way. It made them care for each other for only a few seconds at a time, then it was back to business as usual. It probably solved a lot of problems they had, and Fwhip wouldn’t be surprised if it caused a few new ones as well. Something always did with the two of them.

Speaking of fixing and creating problems, he has a sister and (maybe a father, if he even sees his son today) he needs to talk to, and knows the conversation is imminent as soon as he arrives back in the Grimlands. It’s not a conversation he’s excited to have, he’s actually very scared of it. But he knows it needs to happen, and wants it to as well. So it’s going to happen today, whether the future Count likes it or not.

Him and Gem have been messaging a bit, ever since the communicators had been finished. The devices were in the works for months, and just happened to be finished a week after their big fight. Not only was that convenient, it also allowed for very stiff conversations to be held, before and during his trip to the Ocean Empire.

They haven't really seen each other in person since the argument, and even before he left, only scarcely in passing. But he thinks they're going to today, since Fwhip has been away from home two whole weeks. Maybe even three. He think’s shes the only one of his family who will welcome him home, and that’s fine by him. He’d had enough of shitty mothers for a little while, and would have plenty of time to see his dad later. Fwhip did, rather unfortunately, have to see the man at breakfast everyday.

An hour after he gets home and puts his bags away, Fwhip decides to bite the bullet. No more ignoring it, no more anxieties. He knocks on his sister’s bedroom door, just down the hall from where their fateful fight had occurred, and waits with bated breath for her to open it. If she’s not in there, then his whole plan is turned upside down, but whatever. He tried, and that’s enough. It should be enough.

It takes a second, but Gem does peak through the doorway a minute later, her green eyes uncertain. “Hey.” She says, clearly a little more than hesitant. On a good note for this, she doesn’t hide behind her door for long, and fully opens it. So they can be properly face to face.

“Hey.” Fwhip parrots, standing there for a second, dumbly. The words almost dry up in his throat, and the urge to run away from all this is very strong. But he doesn’t do it. He doesn’t run, he stands his ground and forces his voice to stay steady as he talks. “I'm sorry…for yelling at you, and calling your magic stupid.” This isn’t the Ocean, he’s not there anymore, he doesn’t have to grab Jimmy and run from things neither of them can seem to fix. He can fix this. They can fix this. “I know it's really impressive and you love doing it so…I'm sorry.” 

Gem blinks at him a bit, processing his words. She probably just expected another stilted conversation, one that ended without even fixing anything. But, as she’d told him once, Fwhip was kinda full of surprises. He was never the best at apologizing anyways, but he hopes that one can suffice. He hopes that the fact that he tried means enough.

“And I know how much your inventions mean to you, so I'm sorry for calling them dumb.” The young wizard says, after a moment of turning the words around in her head. She sounds unsure, but her brother always knows when it's genuine and when it’s fake. Gem isn’t good at proper apologies either, anyways. “And for calling you a dickhead.” 

Fwhip feels a small laugh bubble up from his throat, as he recalls his past attitude from the past month and a half, and what he’d just said to the Ocean Queen a few days before. “You weren't really wrong there, but thanks.” 

After a moment of silence, and a small giggle from Gem, the future Count speaks again. He asks the question that arguably scared him the most going into this, and finds himself very relieved at the answer. “Are we…cool now?”

“Yeah, we're cool.” Gem says, a small smile starting to form on her face. It’s a little somber, but it's the first time she’s smiled at him in over a month, so the half dragon will gladly take it. “I'll try to be a better sister from now on.”

“O-okay.” Fwhip stammers, and doesn’t know why that gets him so much. He doesn’t know why that almost makes him cry, but tears do start to prick at the corner of his eyes. Fwhip blinks them away, right as Gem crashes straight into his chest.

“I missed you, you big idiot.” She huffs, hugging him. She’s hidden her face in his coat, and Fwhip remembers again, He remembers Jimmy, just like this not even a week ago, and his sister doing the same thing when they were much younger. The half dragon hugs her back tightly, and slightly wonders when he became the comfort guy.

“I missed you too…” He mumbled, wings covering both of them. “I’ll try to be a better brother, too.” He rests his head on top of hers, barely noticing the strange absence of her wizard hat. Gem just makes a sound, and drags them both into her room, managing to kick the door shut in the process. The twins need time to be emotional in private, instead of letting the whole manor walk by and overhear their conversation.

They end up on Gem’s bed just….laying there, after a good cry or two from the both of them of course. They chat about what’s been going on with each of them for the past few weeks, about anything and everything that comes to mind. It’s really nice, just laying next to his sister again, exiting near each other. He missed her, a lot more than he let himself think about over the last few weeks.

“I was messaging Jimmy earlier.” Gem hums, their sides pressed together. She had a book in her hands at one point, fiddling with pages as their conversations dragged on, fell off, then restarted all over again. But now she seems content just to lay next to her brother, the book long forgotten somewhere else on her stupidly big bed.

Fwhip feels his ears prick up in surprise, He didn’t think the forge was giving out communicators to other empires yet, but he hadn’t been home in a while. A lot could happen in just a month, after all, even when he wasn’t there. (Hell, his seaside trip had proved just what could happen in a month, really.) “He got his communicator?”

“Yeah, they sent it over a day ago I think. I wanted to help him set it up.” Gem explains, her fingers drumming against her purple bed sheets, something she does when there’s a lot on her mind. “He said you guys got closer when I asked about the visit.” 

“Yeah.” Fwhip says, his tone going heavy. He flicks his eyes up towards the ceiling, and a frown stretches across his face involuntarily.

Gem sees the way his face falls, and Fwhip knows her brows have furrowed without even looking over at her. “What did you two talk about..?”

“It's not my place to say but…..you can ask him.” Fwhip says, his thoughts being rather damp once again. He wants Gem to know all that stuff, since she’s decently close with the cod, but won’t reveal more than he’s comfortable with. “But basically his mom sucks and I really fucking hate her.” 

“Oh dear.” Gem says, instantly pulling her communicator out from her robe, presumably to message Jimmy instantly. Which makes sense. Based of Fwhip’s words and body language, the wizard knows she should be very concerned about what was talked about, and what’s been going on in that Ocean. Part of Fwhip wishes he’d remained oblivious to it, kinda, but most of him is glad he knows now. Most of him is glad he can now help.

“ Oh dear indeed.” The half dragon says, copying his sister and pulling out his own communicator. When he opens it, there’s a message from Jimmy, one sent twenty minutes ago. Briefly, before he opens it, he wonders if it’s something horrible and serious. He fears his previous actions made everything worse for the cod, and is hit with a massive wave of relief when that’s not the case, and it’s something more normal and mundane. 

SolidarityGaming: this is jimmy, gem gave me your username thingy

SolidarityGaming: add me back asshole

fWhip: okay jeez

fWhip: also tf is ur name????

SolidarityGaming: I didn't know what else to put okay

fWhip: of course  

The conversation ends there, Fwhip having to hold back a snort. Of course Jimmy had picked a really dumb name, instead of just using his real one. Of course. He was so dumb like that. (No, the half dragon was not thinking that fondly, what in the word are you talking about. He would never be fond over a fish, never in a million years. The hugging today doesn’t count either, because Jimmy was sad. That’s all, no other reason.)

He spares a glance at Gem, and sees his sister is still on her own communicator. By what he can see, she’s still messaging Jimmy. Probably about what Fwhip directed her to earlier. And, with all due respect to the guy, he’s too emotionally spent to relive all that again, even in digital form. Almost a month of it had been more than enough for once lifetime, and Fwhip is sure he’ll get to see more of the cod’s problems as the years trudge on.

The half dragon rests his head on Gem’s shoulder, deciding just to rest for once, and let the sounds of her typing lull him to sleep for the night. They haven’t shared a room, let alone a bed, since they were pretty little, so this was nice. And it helps him miss her less, especially when rings wrap around both of them in a protective little cocoon.

Things aren’t better between them, and their problems are very far from solved, but that doesn’t matter for now. All that matters is that they've made up, and they’re going to try and be better the best way they can. All that matters is that Gem can give her sleeping brother a fond look in between messages with Jimmy, and that they’re talking again. All that matters is that the twins are okay, for now at least, they’re okay.

[pixiemage]

Welp time to prepare my grave for laughter. Wonder what my stone would say.

Maybe Here Lies Ravio, They Died of Laughter.

The original context of this ask was in response to a confirmation that I'd be writing a THIRD chapter for These Small Hours, the first two parts of which can be found HERE and HERE. So uh...hah...how about that third chapter, huh? ^^;;

[This work can also be found on Archive of Our Own]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In Cahoots

For a brief few moments, Jimmy was swayed by the hopeful belief that he would manage to return to Bad Boy Manor without Grian or Joel being any the wiser. The sun wasn’t too high in the sky and Grian had yet to drop any messages in chat checking to see how long he needed to wait before restarting everyone’s timers (which were strange in their own right, as they certainly were not running at normal speed; if they had been then half of their time would have ticked down by now - but Jimmy wasn’t awake enough to ponder that at the moment). So with no sign of him in chat, there was a chance Grian was still asleep, and even if he was awake he may have assumed Jimmy was off collecting resources or…something. There was a chance he was under the impression that Jimmy hadn’t actually been gone all night but instead had woken early and left for a while.

And Joel - well, Joel wasn’t exactly a morning person, something which Etho had teased him for during one or two server meetings while in Double Life. Joel could still be asleep even if Grian wasn’t…unless Grian had woken him up, of course. But even if Jimmy had left TIES’ base later than planned, it was still early. Joel wouldn’t be awake enough to question where Jimmy might have been. Right?

So Jimmy scaled the uneven terrain of the burned mansion shell with that thought in mind, treading quietly and wincing at every creaking unstable wooden plank. He willed his wings to stay still enough to avoid rustling in the morning air and he hoisted himself up over the edge of the roof…and froze.

Where Grian and Joel had been sleeping the evening prior, there was no sign they’d been there at all. Their makeshift sleeping arrangements were tidied up and packed away. They were both awake.

But that didn’t mean anything, right? They wouldn’t assume anything. They had no reason to. Right?

Jimmy forced himself to act casual - or as casually as he could manage - as he crossed to the farmland they’d built up on the large lower portion of the roof. He tugged a few tufts of grown wheat free from the earth and he was halfway through replanting them when someone cleared their throat nearby.

Jimmy jerked, his wings fluffing in an instant, and he spun on his heels to try and spot the intruder.

“Where’ve you been, Tim?”

Jimmy’s eyes snapped upward and he blanched. Up there, with his sneaker-clad feet hanging over the edge of the upper roof, sat Grian, his eyes narrowed and a smirk threatening to come to life on his face. Beside him Joel was crouching as well, a wicked little grin tugging at his lips and a diamond sword hanging from one hand. He was most definitely awake, then.

“Er…sorry?” Jimmy blurted out, his voice higher than he wished it was. His grip tightened on the wheat he was still holding.

“Where were you, Tim?” Grian repeated. (For a fraction of a second Jimmy was sure he saw the man’s eyes flash purple, but it happened so quickly he couldn’t be sure. It would be a Grian move to try and use an intimidation tactic like that, wouldn’t it?) “You were gone an awfully long time, you know,” Grian carried on in a teasing drawl. He drummed his fingers against the edge of the roof. “I woke up to do some quick server maintenance in the middle of the night and - poof! No Timmy. Can you imagine how worried I’ve been?”

Oh. Oh no. Jimmy swallowed thickly, his eyes darting from Grian to Joel and back again.

“I…just went for a walk,” Jimmy tried. He twisted the wheat between his hands before letting the bundle vanish into his inventory. He shrugged. “Woke up. Couldn’t sleep. You know how it is.”

“That’s a really long walk, Jimmy,” Joel chimed in. “Innit Grian? What’d you do, get lost for over five hours?”

Grian hummed thoughtfully.

“That would be an impressive feat, getting lost on a map this small. Honestly, Tim, I knew you were bad at these games but that’s just beyond the pale.”

Jimmy’s feathers ruffled and he let out an irate twitter.

“I didn’t get lost!” he snipped. “I just needed to get some air, is all!”

“Yeah?” Joel’s grin sharpened and he leaned over to Grian. “Maybe he just needed to get some, period. How far away is Team TIES basing again…?”

Jimmy choked on air, an alarmed and airy chirp breaking free from his throat.

“Wh - JOEL! It’s not like that!”

Joel popped to his feet, pointing his sword down at Jimmy with a victorious spark in his eyes.

“Ah-HAH! So you don’t deny it! You were with Tango last night!”

Jimmy’s eyes went wide and he gaped up at them both, all words leaving him as any scrambled attempts to cover his ass would be futile now. Crap, crap, crap–

“Colluding with the enemy, are we?” Grian taunted. He leaned forward over the edge of the roof, a wicked smile splitting his face. “Conspiring even?”

“Cahoots, Grian,” Joel said. “They’re in cahoots.”

“Oh, they’re definitely in cahoots.”

“We’re not in cahoots!” Jimmy spluttered, and though he couldn’t see his own face he could feel the flush of color flooding his cheeks. His ear feathers flared and his wings fluffed, curling forward as though to hide him away from the onslaught of mockery his brother and his brother-in-law were dishing out. “It’s not - we’re not - I just–”

Grian leapt from the upper roof, his wings flaring to slow his descent, and he dropped right in front of Jimmy with a flash of mischief in his eyes that the younger avian most definitely did not like to see coming from someone as troublesome as Grian. Grian stepped into his space with that same sharp grin on his face and poked Jimmy in the chest.

“Cahoots,” he declared. “We’re not in Double Life anymore, Tim. We’re in Limited Life. And that means you’re part of the Bad Boys. You’d better not be spilling team secrets to Tango.”

“I-I’m not! I haven’t! I just - I only–”

“You just what?” Joel drawled, smirking, having dropped near Grian in the past few moments. “I just, I just, I just - spit it out, man!”

“I just missed him!” Jimmy blurted, shoving Grian’s prodding hand away. His wings were raised high behind his shoulders and his brows were knit, his face slightly flushed in embarrassment at the open admission…but he didn’t back down. He huffed, folding his arms tightly over his chest. “I missed Tango, alright? It’s nothing to do with the game. He’s been busy with Decked Out, an’ I’ve been workin’ on new lore stuff for Empires, and we haven’t seen each other. So when the clocks stopped, I…” He shrugged, his shoulders hiking up to his ears as he avoided looking at either of them. “...I snuck out to see him.” He darted his eyes to Grian, whose teasing expression was still present but a little softer than before. “We’re not on the same server, G. Not like you and Scar.”

That, at least, he knew Joel would understand, even if Joel and Etho’s soulbond during Double Life had been vastly different from Jimmy and Tango’s. While the ranchers had become romantically entwined, Etho and Joel had found themselves to be more like kindred spirits, but Jimmy hadn’t missed the quiet disappointment that had lingered around Joel when Etho didn’t arrive with the other Hermits when they crossed the rift to Empires. Grian and Scar being separated during the games wasn’t nearly so maddening because, when they weren’t on a Life server, they could still see each other any day of the week. It was just…different.

Grian huffed and gave Jimmy a friendly punch to the shoulder.

“I know that, Timmy,” he said, still teasing, though more gently this time. “Why d’you think I figured out where you’d gone? You’re unbelievably predictable.” He reached up to ruffle Jimmy’s hair, earning a yelp of protest from the flustered blond. “Just don’t get all mushy and lovey-dovey on me when we’re supposed to be playing the game. And leave a note next time you plan on vanishing, for void’s sake.”

Grian rolled his eyes and left Jimmy there by the farm, wandering off to dig through his chest for something while Joel fell into snickering laughter. Jimmy blinked owlishly at him.

“...you’re not gonna stop me from going over there?”

“What? Of course not, idiot,” Joel scoffed. “It’s just a bloomin’ game. You think I didn’t visit Lizzie all the time during Last Life? When the plot wasn’t rolling, I was off at the Fairy Fort any chance I could get.”

…oh. True. Jimmy had completely forgotten about that, in all honesty.

“Just don’t take it personally if I ever have to chop your boyfriend’s head off, alright?” Joel shrugged. He walked backward after Grian. “It’s just the game. You know how it goes.”

Jimmy let out a startled laugh, and he found he wasn’t really all that bothered by the comment. That was how the game worked. At some point there would probably come a time when he’d have to fight Tango himself…not that he was sure he’d be able to take it seriously when the time came. Ah well. That was a problem for future Jimmy.

As Jimmy went about finishing the planting he’d begun before their conversation, Grian and Joel’s voices carried over from where they were digging through their chests. Jackets, they were talking about. Leather jackets, if they could find the materials or find similar clothing in their deep inventory to pull from. Matching leather jackets, if they had the time.

“I’m sure I’ve got a leather jacket somewhere you can borrow if you wanna look the part,” Tango had said, Jimmy recalled, down on the beach the night before. And though it may have been a joke at the time, Jimmy had half a mind to ask Tango if the offer was still open. He could match his teammates if Grian and Joel were as serious about the jacket thing as they seemed to be…and, if Tango really did have a jacket that would fit Jimmy, then he could carry a piece of his soulmate with him despite them being on opposing teams.

It was a nice thought. Jimmy smiled softly to himself. Like getting a hug from Tango even when he wasn’t around. Yeah…he’d definitely have to ask about that later.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[A/N:If y'all haven't seen the matching jackets, you need to see the matching jackets. I refuse to believe that Jimmy got it anywhere but Tango, for fluff purposes. Also I'm glad I managed to get this out before tomorrow, because I have no idea what might transpire during tomorrow's upload lmao...anything could happen!]

[arc852]

Stuck

Summary: It's the second day of spring break and Jimmy is left alone for a bit as Joel and his parents go to the store. As Jimmy explores more of Joel's room he finds something that he wished he hadn't...and in the worst way possible.

Warnings: Feeling helpless, feeling trapped, inhumane mouse traps, panic, fear, worry, and mentions of death

Word Count: 4095

AO3 Link

Okay, it took me a second to figure out how to go about this but I figured out that the only place this would really make sense to happen is at Joel's house. So, this happens right after Sweet Tooth and before Eepy!

Strap in guys, this one is pretty angsty. And kind of long. It sort of got away from me. I hope you guys enjoy!

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 “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Joel asked, still nervous about leaving Jimmy alone. Especially for such a long period of time.

 Jimmy nodded and gave Joel a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine Joel. Besides, going to class with you is one thing. But going to the store seems…a bit much.”

 Joel let out a sigh but he could see Jimmy’s point. “Yeah, that’s fair. You would just be in my pocket the whole time too, which probably wouldn’t be very fun for you huh?”

 “Yeah, not really. At least here I can explore your house some more.” And Jimmy was excited to do so. He hadn’t even gotten through half of Joel’s room before he had come back with dinner the night before, so he was excited to see the rest of it. And maybe even the rest of the house.

 “Alright. Just be careful.” Joel said and then headed toward the door. Before opening it though, he looked back at Jimmy again. “I should be back in a couple of hours.”

 “Have fun!” Jimmy said with a wave and then watched as Joel quickly opened the door, walked out, and closed the door. He did it fast, just in case one of his parents were walking by. He heard the footsteps leave and then Jimmy was alone.

 Jimmy stood up and stretched for a moment, before getting out his rope and stabbing it into the nightstand. He then shimmied down the rope and decided to keep it there just in case he wanted to go back up later. Jimmy figured he would mostly be sticking to the floor anyway, so no reason to take it with him.

 He looked around the room, taking in his options. He had already explored underneath the bed, the nightstand, and the dresser that Joel had pushed up against the wall. So, it seemed his next exploration was to be the closet on the opposite side of the room. Thankfully, the closet door was already open, so he wouldn’t have to worry about squeezing through the bottom of the door or anything like that.

 Jimmy made his way toward that direction, walking casually and taking in the sights around him. If he was being honest, it was a little weird being back in an actual house. He hadn’t stepped foot in one since…well, since Jimmy had left home when he was 12. It brought back a lot of memories.

 It was different from the dorms, in the sense that it had a more homey feel to it. It felt more lived in, more cherished. Many college students may have lived in the dorm buildings but none of them saw it as permanent. It wasn’t supposed to be. But this house…this was permanent. Joel had lived here with his family since he was little and while Joel may move on, his parents were sticking around. And Joel would always see this house as his, in one way or another.

 Jimmy didn’t have that. His childhood home was long gone. He didn’t even know where it had been. He never had a reason to pay attention to something like that before. And he was in too much of a bad head space when he decided leaving was best for him to pay attention to how far the college was from the house. 

 Jimmy shook his head. That was not a bundle of memories he wanted to get into right now. It had been a long time since he had thought about his old home, of his parents, but it seemed being in a house again was making everything come back.

 Jimmy focused back on the task at hand, which was exploring the closet. He had made it to the opening, staring up at the darkness that awaited him. It was a walk in closet, so plenty of room to explore. Jimmy squinted his eyes to try and see into the darkness. Ever since becoming friends with Grian and Joel, and staying out of the walls, his once keen night vision was all but gone. Grian said it had something to do with getting used to the light, that his eyes had soaked up too much of it and was now more similar to a human’s than a borrower’s.

 Jimmy missed it less than he thought he would have but at times like these, he did wish his eyesight was back to how it used to be.

 Still, the longer he stared into the darkness the more his eyes began to adjust. It still wasn’t as much as he could see before but it was better than nothing.

 He made his way into the closet, looking around for anything interesting. There were some shelves above him but they were much too far up for Jimmy to reach even with his hook. So he focused on the floor, seeing something back in the far corner of the closet. It appeared to be a small box, small enough that Jimmy should be able to open it and look inside. Maybe he would find some old trinkets of Joel’s or maybe just some clothes but Jimmy was excited to find out.

 He walked towards it, staying close to the wall as he did so. But as he got further into the closet, the darkness became too much again. The light from the room not quite reaching as far back. Jimmy blinked, trying to get used to the darkness once more but as he took another step, his foot caught on something and he tripped.

 Normally, a trip like that would be no big deal. Especially with the carpet to break his fall, it was more embarrassing than painful to trip like that. But something was different this time. As Jimmy fell, it was not the softness of the carpet that met him.

 Jimmy landed with a strange squelching noise, his body landing on top of some sort of pasty substance.

 Jimmy landed in a way where both his arms were up at an angle and his head was tilted to the side, the right side of his face getting the brunt of the fall. The rest of his body lay flat on the mystery surface.

 Jimmy groaned, the impact more surprising than painful but still. Jimmy sighed and moved his arms to get himself up. Except…they didn’t move. Jimmy blinked and tried lifting his head to see what was wrong but he didn’t get far. His head was stuck too and the only thing that happened was his skin and hair got pulled, causing a sharp pain that made Jimmy yelp and stop what he was doing.

 Jimmy laid there for a moment, processing what was wrong and why he couldn’t move.

 And then it hit him.

 This was a glue trap.

 A deep sense of panic overtook Jimmy’s entire being as he realized this. Glue traps were awful, one of the worst traps that could be set up. They were dangerous, so very dangerous. If a borrower got stuck in one, then there was no way out. Either the human found you or, what happened a majority of the time, you died. You were completely and utterly stuck until you eventually just died.

 And that was if you had fallen into the trap the ‘right way’. Jimmy had heard a few stories when he was younger from his parents, of borrowers who had unfortunately fallen into the trap face first. They had suffocated to death in just a few minutes. But his parents had told that story with the underline of how lucky those borrowers had been. 

 Despite what his parents had thought, Jimmy was very happy that he hadn’t fallen face first.

 But still, he didn’t have a way out. The more he pulled, the more he stuck and the more painful it was to even try. Jimmy had no choice but to still and try to control his breathing as much as he could. 

 The only thing keeping him from truly panicking was the fact that, unlike other borrowers who had found themselves in this situation, Jimmy actually did have someone who could help him.

 The only problem was Joel was still gone and would probably be gone for at least another hour. But Jimmy didn’t have another choice. He was stuck. He just had to wait and breathe through it. He couldn’t let the panic that still festered deep in his gut to take control. He would be fine. Joel would get him out. He wasn’t going to die here.

 He just had to wait.

  ***

   Jimmy perked up as soon as he heard the bedroom door open close to an hour later. He had managed to keep his breathing steady but his heart still raced and now that the very fragile calm had been interrupted, the panic was coming back.

 “Jimmy? I’m back. Where are you?” Joel called out into the room after closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned the room, refusing to move until he saw where Jimmy was. He saw the string dangling from the nightstand so he could only assume he was somewhere on the floor, but Joel didn’t know where. 

 Suddenly, his entire body tensed and panic replaced every other feeling as he heard a faint but clear voice.

 “Joel! Help!” Jimmy screamed, trying to be heard from where he was in the closet.

 “J-Jimmy?!” Joel yelled back and Jimmy wanted to cry in relief that Joel had actually heard him. “Where are you?!”

 Joel was rapidly scanning the room now, wondering what kind of trouble Jimmy was in. Was it a spider? A rat? He needed to find him, to save him.

 Jimmy took a deep breath. “I’m in the closet! I-I’m stuck!”

 “Stuck?” Joel’s gaze went to the closet and he finally allowed himself to move to get over to it. He stopped at the doorway and turned on the light, scanning the floor, looking for Jimmy or anything else out of place. His eyes widened as he finally saw where Jimmy was.

 “Jimmy…” Joel said softly, gently moving so he was now kneeled down on the ground next to where Jimmy was stuck in a glue trap of all things. He held his hands out, like he wanted to reach for Jimmy but he kept them frozen like that, unsure how to even start going about this. “Oh gosh, are…are you alright?”

 Jimmy winced. “I’m…not hurt.” Jimmy decided to go with. Because otherwise, he was very much not okay.

 “Okay…okay, okay.” Joel couldn’t believe this. “I’m…I’m so sorry, I had no idea this was in here. My parents must have--”

 “I know, Joel. I know.” Jimmy said, cutting Joel off. “Just please, get me out of here.”

 “Right! Right. Uh…” Joel looked at Jimmy stuck in the trap, trying to figure something out. Finally, he reached out his hand, hovering it over Jimmy. “I’m gonna touch you, okay?” Joel wouldn’t normally announce something like that but with how this situation was, and with both of them panicking, he thought it would be a good thing to do.

 Jimmy hummed in response and shut his eyes tight. Joel slowly let his fingers grip the side of Jimmy’s body and he carefully tried to pull him up and out of the trap.

 As Joel started to pull, Jimmy’s eyes widened in pain. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Jimmy suddenly and loudly screamed. Joel let go of Jimmy faster than if something had burned him. Joel’s eyes widened, guilt crowding his features. 

 “Sorry, sorry!” Was all Joel could say, moving his hand far away from where Jimmy was. Jimmy took some deep breaths, trying to calm his panic and let the pain subside.

 “Let’s…Let’s not do that again.” Jimmy said after a moment. Joel only nodded, feeling incredibly bad for having just hurt Jimmy. He had never hurt the borrower before, even when they first met he tried his best to be careful. He never wanted to hurt Jimmy and now he had. 

 Jimmy tried to shift a little, of course not getting very far. “There’s gotta be another way. Right?” Jimmy asked after Joel didn’t speak for a moment, worry etching his features.

 Joel blinked and shook himself out of his little funk. Jimmy needed him right now, he needed to focus. “Yeah, I can google it. Hold on, let’s get you off the floor.” Joel hesitated slightly but reached out his hands again. “I’m going to pick up the trap.” Joel warned before doing so, making sure to avoid the parts with the actual glue on it. The last thing he needed was to get his hands stuck right along with Jimmy.

 Jimmy braced himself as Joel lifted up the trap and Jimmy along with it. Joel was careful to keep his hands steady as he stood up and walked over to his desk. “Okay, setting you down now.” Joel said, warning Jimmy again before he gently placed the trap down on top of the desk. Joel let out a little breath and then decided he needed to sit down for a second, so he took the seat at the desk and then got his phone out to try and figure out how to get Jimmy unstuck.

 Jimmy was faced toward Joel and so he couldn’t help but look up at the human like this. After being with his humans for months now, he was used to strange angles and different perspectives. But it was different this time. Jimmy was being forced down, unable to move himself, forced to look at Joel from an angle that still made Jimmy’s heart race, just a little bit.

 He felt helpless, for the first time in a long time.

 Jimmy closed his eyes, trying to stop his tears from falling. He took in a shaky breath, trying to ease his mind. Unfortunately, after months of being around Jimmy, Joel noticed and looked away from his phone for a moment to show concern for the borrower. “Jimmy? Hey, it’s okay. I’m gonna get you out of this.”

 Jimmy sniffed and opened his eyes, doing his best to meet Joel’s. “I know.” And he did. He was sure Joel would get him out. It was just…being put in this situation in the first place was really not doing good things for Jimmy mentally.

 Joel looked like he wanted to ask him something else, catching onto the fact that there was still something wrong. But he decided the best thing to do was get Jimmy out of there and so he just nodded and went back to searching it up.

 “Okay, I got it.” Joel said a minute later, reading the instructions carefully. “I need to get a few things though.” Joel looked down at the borrower with a slight wince. “I'll be right back, okay?”

 If Jimmy was being honest, he really didn’t want Joel to leave him. But he knew that wasn’t possible right now. “Okay.”

 Joel nodded and left, being as quick as he could in collecting the things he needed. It was a bit difficult with his parents there but he managed to hide the fact he was taking the cooking oil from the kitchen. The last thing he needed was his parent’s questioning him on why he was taking it up to his room.

 He was back in less than five minutes, putting everything he had gathered onto the table. “Right, so it says rubbing oil on the parts that are stuck will help it to unstick.” Joel explained as he put on the gloves. “Ready?”

 Jimmy hummed and Joel grabbed the bottle of oil. He hesitated for a moment before squirting some on the edges of Jimmy’s body, as well as some extra on his gloved hands. Jimmy shut his eyes, the oil feeling weird against his skin and hair. Once Joel had poured out a generous amount of the oil, he put it down and switched to gently rubbing it in. Carefully moving his fingers in gentle motions across Jimmy’s tiny limbs.

 Jimmy opened his eyes briefly, seeing Joel’s face in deep concentration. Jimmy let out a deep breath. He couldn’t even let himself get lost in the familiar touches of Joel’s hand, because the glove was a foreign thing that almost made Jimmy jump in a panic at being touched by it. He reminded himself that it was Joel though and tried to keep himself relaxed.

 Slowly, but surely, the glue started to come off and Jimmy felt himself be able to lift his arms up. Joel took the opportunity to get some more of the oil underneath Jimmy’s body, where the majority of him was stuck. It felt like hours but really was only about ten minutes before Jimmy felt the rubbing stop.

 “Okay…I’m gonna try lifting you up again.” Joel said and Jimmy nodded, something he could actually do now. Joel lowered his gloved hand, gripping Jimmy’s sides gently between his fingers. He went slow, incredibly slow, giving Jimmy plenty of time to tell him if it was starting to hurt again. But Jimmy didn’t say anything and so Joel continued until he was able to fully lift Jimmy up and off of the glue trap. 

 Immediately, Joel switched his hold on the borrower, moving so he was now holding him in cupped hands. Jimmy was still dripping in oil and covered sporadically in leftover glue, but he was out. Jimmy let out a small sigh of relief.

 “There we go.” Joel said, smiling in relief himself. “That wasn’t…too bad.” He winced at his own words and very quickly continued. “Uh, come on. I’m sure you want to get cleaned up.”

 Jimmy just nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet. Joel held him close as he opened his door, checking for his parents before quickly making his way to the bathroom. Once in, he carefully set Jimmy down on the counter and set up the sink so Jimmy could take a bath in it, just like he had done the night before when Jimmy had made a mess with the chocolate cake.

 Once the bath was set up, Joel left some soap and a hand towel on the counter and then glanced back down at Jimmy. “I’ll be back in a bit with some clean clothes for you. Okay?” Joel asked. When Jimmy just nodded, Joel frowned sadly. “Okay.” Joel said again and then left the bathroom.

 As soon as Joel left, Jimmy wasted no time in taking off the glue crusted and oil covered clothes. He left them on a pile on the counter, though he wasn’t sure they could be saved. Jimmy didn’t have a lot of clothes but he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to even try and wash them.

 Jimmy dipped into the tub and immediately started scrubbing with the soap Joel gave him. Thankfully, with the oil mixed in, the last bit of glue came off easily and the oil wasn’t far behind. As Jimmy moved onto his hair, there was a brief knock on the bathroom door before it opened, Joel coming in with a hand in front of his eyes. “It’s just me. I’m not looking.” Joel said and Jimmy couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

 Joel’s hands were now free of any gloves and he held a small pile of borrower sized clothes in his hand. He blindly set them on top of the counter. “You almost done?” Joel asked.

 “Yeah, just gotta finish my hair.” Jimmy said. “Give me ten more minutes?”

 Joel nodded and then left the bathroom once more. Jimmy finished up quickly, rinsing his hair out and double checking he got all the glue off. He seemed all clean, thankfully, so he hoisted himself out of the sink and dried off.

 Joel knocked on the door just as Jimmy finished getting dressed. Joel opened the door a little bit. “All good?”

 “Yeah.” Jimmy replied and only then did Joel walk in. He sent Jimmy a small smile, glad to see him cleaned up and looking a bit better. Though Jimmy’s mood was still down. He glanced over at the pile of dirty clothes and motioned to it.

 “What did you want to do with these?” Joel asked and Jimmy frowned as he followed Joel’s motion over to the pile of clothes. Jimmy quickly turned away.

 “You can just throw them away.” Jimmy said, not wanting to look at them anymore. They were ruined anyway.

 Joel bit his lip. Jimmy never threw things away, it was against a borrower’s nature, according to Jimmy. Grian and Joel always had to convince him to throw certain things away. But, after what Jimmy had gone through, Joel couldn’t really blame him. “That’s fair.” He settled on and then quickly lifted the clothes and dumped them in the trash. 

 He washed his hands after touching the oily clothes and then gently scooped Jimmy up in his hands, taking him back into his room. As they entered, Jimmy noticed the glue trap was already gone and he couldn’t help but be very thankful for that.

 Joel walked over to the nightstand and started lowering his hand to set Jimmy down but Jimmy scooted back, further onto Joel’s palm. Joel looked at him confused and Jimmy looked down with a slight blush on his cheeks. “Can…could you hold me just for a bit longer, actually?” Jimmy asked, not making eye contact with Joel.

 Normally, Joel would jump on the chance to tease Jimmy about this. But he knew this situation was delicate and he couldn’t help but feel warmth blossom in his chest at the thought that Jimmy wanted his comfort like this. And honestly, he hadn’t wanted to put Jimmy down anyway. “Yeah, of course Jim.”

 He brought his hand back up, closer to his chest, and then glanced around the room, his eyes falling on his laptop. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

 Jimmy hummed. A movie sounded nice, though he wasn’t sure if he would really be paying attention to it or not. Joel grabbed his laptop with his free hand and then climbed into bed, leaning back against his pillow and headboard as he set up his laptop on the bed right in front of his crossed legs. 

 Jimmy stayed in his hold, soaking up the warmth and comfort of Joel’s uncovered hand. As the movie started, Joel’s hands moved a bit lower, resting on his lap as he added his other hand to give Jimmy more room.

 Jimmy had been right, he didn’t pay too much attention to the movie. Wasn’t even sure what they were watching. He was too focused on the way Joel’s finger rubbed up and down his back in a steady and grounding way.

 “Joel?” Jimmy said, glancing up at Joel.

 “Yeah, Jim?” Joel said, already looking down. It seemed Joel was having a hard time focusing on the movie as well.

 Jimmy bit his lip and let out a small breath. “Thank you. I don’t��I don’t know what would have happened if…” Jimmy couldn’t even finish the sentence. He was lying too, he knew exactly what would have happened if Jimmy didn’t have Joel. It was those thoughts, paired with the overwhelming feeling of helplessness in that situation, that was causing him to be so down.

 Joel blinked and looked down at Jimmy sadly. Even though Jimmy didn’t finish, it wasn’t hard to guess where Jimmy had been going with it. “Of course. I’m just…I’m so sorry that that happened to you.” Joel let out a sigh. “I’m gonna talk to my parents tomorrow. Make up a story about the glue trap. Maybe saying I stepped in it? Found a mouse in it? I don’t know yet, but I’m gonna try to convince them to get rid of all of them.”

 Jimmy nodded. “That…Yeah. That would be great. Thank you, Joel.”

 Joel nodded, he was going to make sure nothing like this ever happened again. To anyone. 

 Joel brought his hands up a little, bringing Jimmy to eye level. “Are you okay?” Joel asked again, now that everything was over.

 Jimmy took in a shaky breath…and then shook his head. Joel’s eyebrows knit together in concern but Jimmy spoke before Joel could say anything. “I’m really not.” Jimmy blinked back a few tears. “But…I will be.”

 And as Joel brought him to his chest and they shared their own version of a hug, Jimmy knew that with Joel, and Grian, by his side, he really was going to be okay.

[snuggerudism]

all the trees change in the fall

elise x ollie

it’s been a week. she’s been radio silent with everyone in her life, including her family. it’s the longest she’s gone without speaking to them ever. sure, she sees the text and calls from her parents, and siblings that aren’t her twin, but she doesn’t have the energy to respond or pick up.

ollie had managed to get her out of bed and into the shower today, with the promise that they’d go to their favorite restaurant for lunch.

for the first time in days, she puts on a somewhat nice outfit along with a light amount of makeup. ollie is driving her car, mostly because she doesn’t think she has the energy to do so.

ollie misses a turn, and she realizes that they are not going in the direction of their favorite restaurant.

“ollie.” elise raises her eyebrow, crossing her arms.

“restaurant’s closed today.” ollie is not a good liar, and his girlfriend sees right through his words.

she’s not alarmed, at least not until she does a double take when she sees her parents car parked in a spot outside the restaurant ollie took her to.

“you-,” she snaps her head to look at her boyfriend. “we can’t go here. my parents are here.” but ollie is already out of the car, keys in hand.

“els, please get out of the car.” he begs.

“you can’t make me.” she snaps at her boyfriend, who takes a deep breath and makes his way to her side of the car.

“please do not make this more difficult than it needs to be. your family came to see you, they missed you and haven’t heard from you in a week.” he opens up the car door, and reaches across to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“you promised you wouldn’t say anything to my family.” her voice is quiet now, and a part of his heart breaks.

“els, i was so worried about you, and they were too. i didn’t tell them anything about jimmy, i swear. the only thing i told them was that you haven’t been doing well lately, and that’s because i couldn’t lie to your parents when they asked me how you were.”

oh. they had called and asked ollie about her? she hadn’t even told them she was dating him, and- oh. jimmy must’ve told them.

“i can’t go in there, ollie.” the words come out as a whisper,

“you have to,” he holds his hand out for her to grab, and she pauses for a moment, before sighing and lacing her fingers with his. “i’ll be right next to you, okay els?”

she nods, and lets him lead the way into the restaurant. she sees her parents and out of the corner of her eye, before the rest of her family pops into view, plus-

oh. he had to have been here, he’s part of her family. she doesn’t know why she ever thought otherwise.

she turns around quickly, seeing if she could run out the door, but ollie is quick to place his hand right below her spine, guiding her to the table.

the first thing she notices is the glare jimmy is sending in her directions, and anger fills her. he has no right to be mad.

“hi mom, hi dad.” she sends a gentle smile to her parents, before sitting next to her sister and pulling ollie down to sit next to her.

his hand reaches for her, trying to calm his own nerves. he’s met her family, but never as her boyfriend.

“this is ollie.” she presses a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek, letting out a giggle as his face turns red. “my boyfriend.” she looks at him with the biggest smile and eyes full of adoration.

she still feels the glare burning into the side of her head from her twin brother, but pays him no mind.

“it’s nice to meet you ollie.” her parents send him a smile, and she notices the way her dad pretends to go into a protective dad stance.

“ignore my dad, he’s harmless.” she whispers into her boyfriend’s ear.

“i give it two weeks.” jimmy snaps, and the chatter that filled the table drops into the abyss.

“james.” her mother warns, sending a nasty glare her brothers way.

“what? i was just saying what everyone’s thinking.” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

just when she thought she was done crying and okay, she feels the tears start to build back up again. everyone in her family is staring at jimmy with a look of pure disbelief, but ollie is focused on her, whispering words of love in her ear.

even if he wants to scream at jimmy, and tell him how in love he is with elise, he bites his tongue.

“james, apologize to your sister now.” she’s never heard her dad sound so angry in her life, not even the time that jimmy broke the kitchen window after a puck went awry when they were playing hockey outside.

“why should i apologize? she was the one who went behind my back and dated my teammate without telling me.” his voice is raised, and his face is red with anger.

“i didn’t tell you because i wanted to avoid you reacting like this.” she snaps, fed up with her brother acting the way he is.

“i can’t be here right now.” jimmy slams his fist down on the table, and attempts to get up before their dad pushes him back down by his shoulder.

“you’re not leaving,” he won’t break eye contact with jimmy, who scoffs in response. “and quit acting like a child. you’re 19 years old. your sister is allowed to date whoever she wants.”

“i want you two to make up before we leave to go back home,” her mom reaches across the table to grab both of their hands, and elise is quick to grab it, but jimmy only does after a look from his mom. “you two have always had such a special twin bond, and i don’t want that to ever change.” her mom sounds so sad, and an overwhelming feeling of guilt washes over elise.

“i’m so sorry mom. i didn’t want to involve any of you in this.” she looks down at the table, her other hand still holding on to ollie’s.

“jimmy, do you have anything to say?” her mom looks toward her brother.

“no.” he drops his mom’s hand, and the pit in elise’s stomach only gets larger.

“james.” his dad warns.

“i don’t know what you want me to say to her. she’s the one who made this mess.”

“jimmy,” her voice is so quiet, and his eyes snap to her. “the last thing i wanted to do was upset you. but ollie makes me really happy, and i’m not sorry for that. i am sorry for not telling you i was dating a teammate of yours.

she sees something shift in her brother's eyes, and all the anger he held in them previously is washed away at the vulnerability in his sister’s voice.

he decides staying mad at her is not worth it anymore, and it’s “he makes you happy?”

“the happiest. i haven’t been this happy in a while.” she looks at her boyfriend, taking in how amazing he is. he’s staring back at her, eyes full of love.

“fine. but you’re not allowed to kiss when i’m around.” jimmy has a fake serious tone.

“i can’t make any promises.” she teases.

he lets that comment go, rolling his eyes playfully. “moore, if you hurt her or break her heart, i know where to find you.”

elise has never seen ollie look more terrified in his life. a giggle escape her lips, and ollie gives her a horrified look.

“now can you two hug? i need to see my babies get along again.” her mom has a smile and a sparkle of joy in her eyes.

“i’m so sorry els.” her brother squeezes her tight. she missed their twin hugs a lot.

“i forgive you.” and yes, she probably let him off the hook too easily, but she didn’t have it in her to be mad at him any longer.

[practically-an-x-man]

REVENGE!

First attempt at a Gift Fic, based on an idea I have been processing for Jimmy and Lars:

Titled "No More Secrets"

...

When Jimmy and Lars return to the lab, they’re surprised to see Winston leaning on Lars’ desk.

“Welcome back.”

Lars and Jimmy exchange a look. The bewilderment makes Lars adorable, and Jimmy can’t help but smile.

“Is… we were only gone half an hour… did we do something wrong?”

Winston shakes his head. “No, I’m just here to tell you that Corridor C is off limits about half way down. Don’t cross the Caution tape. That’s for you both! It took us a while to realize you two were missing because you were out, not because you were in Corridor C. We’re just glad you’re safe. And on that note, please remember to check in before you check out? We thought we lost you both.”

Lars’ eyes go wide, and he reaches for Jimmy’s hand. He’s trembling, and Jimmy’s light squeeze doesn’t go unnoticed.

Winston grins. “All right, that’s all. Don’t go past the Caution tape.”

“Got it,” Lars answers.

When Winston leaves, Lars turns and hugs Jimmy. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m glad we weren’t there.”

“Me too.” Jimmy runs his fingers through Lars’ hair and smiles at him. “Let’s get back to your problem.”

Lars chuckles. “Yes, thanks. It is important… but when you say lets, you mean me, while you finish reading that book of yours.”

Jimmy nods, smirking, an eyebrow raised. “Yes, that is what I do mean.”

The day goes smoothly after that, Lars has several phone pings that he answers swiftly, and it takes a while for Jimmy to be pulled from his book enough to notice the quick way Lars glanced around before answering.

There are an awful lot of phone messages today…

… and for the rest of the week. 

“Lars, darling,” Jimmy has to say it a few times to get the man’s attention. “I’ve finished my book, can we go out to get more?”

“Um…” Lars looks up, distracted, and doesn’t even make eye contact. “Not… um… I am swamped right now… can I… maybe tomorrow?”

Jimmy sighs, but nods. Patience of a saint, he thinks to himself. But Lars is worth it. “I suppose I’ll go for a ramble.”

Lars barely answers, but as Jimmy reaches the door, Lars’ phone pings and Jimmy looks over his shoulder to see him reach eagerly, excitement in his eyes, typing quickly before putting the phone back down… face down.

With a frown, Jimmy leaves and starts wandering the facility.

“You look… concerned.” Winston’s voice in front of a faded mural of otters at play brings him from his unpleasant thoughts.

“I… am… can I ask you something in confidence?”

Winston’s eyebrow goes up, and he nods slowly. “Of course. Is this work related? Tell me it’s work related?”

“It’s… Lars related.”

Winston sighs. “I… may not be the best help there… but I can listen.”

“He’s suddenly distant, and cooling off, it seems… unless he’s on the phone with whoever is texting him constantly.”

“You think he’s cheating? That’s not Lars.”

Jimmy nods. “I trust him, don’t get me wrong…  but… something’s going on and he’s not telling me. I am… concerned.”

Winston nods, and smiles brightly. “I may not know Lars as well as you do, but I know he’s devoted to you, and he’s trustworthy. If he’s dealing with something, he’ll tell you. And if he doesn’t… I believe he has a good reason.”

Jimmy nods, but frowns. Winston isn’t helping.

“Don't get me wrong, I’m not dismissing your concerns. Would you like me to… nudge him a little, maybe?”

Jimmy startles, and shakes his head. “No, no, I don’t… thank you but no…”

Winston’s phone pings and he sighs. “I have to go, this place doesn’t run itself…”

“Thank you for your time.” Jimmy answers. They separate, go their separate ways, but as soon as Winston is past Jimmy, he has his phone out and is texting furiously.

Coincidence, or…

Lars’ unmistakeable text ping echoes nearby, and Jimmy frowns. He starts to walk over to the doorway where he heard it, and opens the door as carefully as possible. Once in the hallway, he realizes this is Corridor C. He can see the caution tape down the way a bit, and as he ponders, Lars comes from a cross corridor, typing furiously. He turns and walks straight to the caution tape and ducks under it.

What is going on?

Jimmy rushes forward, and reaches the tape just as a door closes about another ten feet down the hallway.

Should Jimmy run back and try to find WInston? Or anyone? Why would Lars be going willingly and unprotected into a danger zone.

Unless WInston was lying and Lars knew. 

Why would they lie to Jimmy? Lars and he made promises. No more secrets.

Jimmy feels anger rising in him, strong emotion, and he absently touches his wound. The almost still blood is now a trickle, and flowing more as he thinks.

He tries to stay calm, to think, but something primal shuts his brain down, spiraling into fear and anger in turns. Logic demands he stay calm, but…

A loud, terrifying thud and Lars’ shout of fear, then a more muffled oof of pain as another thud echoes down the hall sends a jolt of fear through Jimmy.

“LARS!” He rushes forward and stops at the tape.

The tape is a lie… unless… something got Lars.

He tears the tape away and rushes down the hall, to the door, and bursts into the room. The only thing he can see is Lars on the ground, face down, his glasses broken a few feet away.

“Lars! Lars, can you hear me? Answer me!”

The silence and stillness is scarier, he can tell the wound is almost gushing now. 

Lars, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be bleeding, and he doesn’t seem to have any hint of broken bones or…

“Blast it! Lars! Please!”

“Ugh… my ears… exposed to… such… language.”

Lars sits up, awkwardly, and blinks at Jimmy, then squints. “Seen my glasses?”

Jimmy’s relief washes away all the fear and anger, and he shakes his head. “Bad news… I’m afraid…” He reaches and collects the glasses, broken at the nose bridge. Looking at Lars, he can see where the glasses pressed into his face. He’ll bruise, that fair skin, badly.

“How… how did you find me?”

Jimmy winces, and then sighs. “I was at the otter mural and heard your phone. I admit I followed you… curious about why you would let Winston lie to me about the corridor.

Lars has the decency to look guilty, and embarrassed. “Look around, Jimmy.”

With a frown, Jimmy finally takes the time to take in the scenery. The room is large, perhaps an old classroom, but it’s lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, most of them full, many of them with a few bare spots, and each wall has a sliding ladder. There is a little nook with two chairs and a sofa, and warm lighting, and a small table in the middle of the seating area.

“You were listening to me all those times I’d ramble…”

Lars looks offended. “Of course I was… I’m sorry I haven’t had time to go book hunting with you. I was too busy going book hunting for you. I have more coming, the shelves aren’t as full as I’d like.”

“There must be at least… a thousand books in here.”

“Almost two thousand… and if there are any you don’t like we can give them-”

Jimmy gasps.

“To the little free library at the public park down the road.”

“Well that’s acceptable.” Jimmy looks around again. “This is a dream, it must be.”

“Well, early Happy Birthday. I should’ve known I can’t keep a surprise secret from you.” Lars laughs, and Jimmy leans forward and kisses him softly.

“Thank you. Now let’s go make sure you’re not concussed or anything?” He stands, and holds his hand out to Lars. “And no more secrets?”

Lars winces, glancing down at the trickling blood, the tell-tale stains that will fade back but still announce how badly Jimmy was worrying. “Yeah, no more Birthday Surprises… not actively anyhow.” He smiles impishly.

AHHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE!!! I just got home from work and I am SQUEEING! Oh man, this is so perfect!! I don't even know what to say!! I must have read this three times at least, and I'm sure I'll come back to it every time I need a pick-me-up :D

That's such a sweet surprise for Jimmy, I love that Winston is in on it but still is patient and understanding with Jimmy when he starts to get concerned... and again, a home library for him is just the BEST thing, that's just so incredibly thoughtful and I can't even describe how much it's making me smile <3

I love Jimmy's faith in Lars and that he doesn't immediately jump to the wrong conclusion but instead tries to think things through (that's VERY Jimmy, by the way, you write him so well!!)

And oooh, that little bit of hurt/comfort in there too, Jimmy being so concerned followed by Lars being cheeky as usual... that's the good stuff right there. This is SUCH a wonderful fic, I adore this so much!! Thank you!!! <3 <3 <3