#for little kids its already scary to get out of bed at night and brave through a dark house

[mugentakeda]

i really like how the fn royal palace looks so stifling and spooky. like even in zukos memories when its all faded theres this gloom to it that looks suffocating. all the hallways are long and empty and look like walking through the doors at the end will lead to your doom

[raineydays411]

So warm and tender

Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

A/n: Hello! finally the last part of Ember. I hope you guys like it and sorry for making y’all wait so long for the confrontation lol)

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Y/n’s POV

“Aunt Pam?!” you say in shock as you stop struggling against the vine wrapped around your body.

“Y/n, is it really you?” your aunt said as the vine loosened its grip and gently lowered you on the ground. “ Where have you been? Everyone has been going crazy looking for you”

You don’t answer as you look at your aunt. You didn’t realise you missed her as much as you did but now all you want to do is throw yourself in her arms. So you did.Pam, sensing you needed comfort rather than an interrogation, wrapped her arms around you. “I missed so much my Petal.” 

With those five words, all the hurt and pain you bottled up came out. and you cried.

As you cried, your aunt looked at the girl she hasn’t seen in eight years, and wondered what she’s been going through and if she did the right thing by giving you to your father all those years ago.

“Petal, I think you need to explain what’s going on”

You look up and sniff, “ Yeah, i think an explanation is well in order.” and you tell her everything. From the years of being ignored by your father, your last argument, the two weeks you spent in captivity, and your new powers. 

“ And that’s when I found you.” You finish looking at the grim faces of Pam and the other woman, who now that you think about it looks really familiar. 

“Oh, you poor puddin’!” you found your face being squished between two ands and then you were comically pressed against a body in a tight hug. 

“Don’tcha worry bout a thing, me and Pammy will take care of everything, you just sit here and---”  This seems familiar...

“ Harley, I don’t think she can breathe.” “Oh right, now you remember, it the blonde woman who used to sneak into the apartment”. You think to yourself as you struggle to get loose from her grip. You hear someone snicker and see Danny looking at the commotion. 

“ Shut up Danny, where have you been?” You say, forgetting that you’re the only one who can see him. 

“Exploring, do you thing she could hug me like that too?” 

“ If you weren’t already dead, I’m sure they would kill you for that comment”

Pam and Harley look at each other in concern as it seems like you’re talking to yourself. 

“ Hey kid, if you’re gonna talk to yourself, try an’ do it when other people can’t see you, like me.”  The blonde says as if someone talking to themselves was a daily occurrence for her.  You explain that with your powers, you were basically dead and can speak and see other dead people. Hearing that, Pam’s expression darkened

“He let you die?” she said in a grim tone. All the vines and plants in the room started whipping around angrily as if they were looking for the person who wronged you. It was then when you realized it wasn’t your Auntie Pam who taught you how to plant petunias you were looking at, this was Poison Ivy. 

“ Men, you can never trust em’. Well, whadda say little flower, ya up for a little premeditated murder?” and that was the infamous Harley Quinn. 

“ It would’ve been nice to know that you’re related to scary criminals y/n....” Danny said in a fearful voice. And if you were being honest you just found out that your aunt Pam was also the Poison Ivy but to be fair you haven’t seen her since you were like eight. 

“I don’t want to kill him” you finally say. “ I don’t want anything to do with him. Nor his precious Spiderling.” The plants calm down as Ivy calmed down and was your aunt Pam again. “ What do you want to do?” she asks.

You think to yourself and say,” I want him to know how he made me feel, and then I want to stay with you.”  Your aunt and Harley froze when you said that. 

“Petal, there is nothing I want more than for you to stay with me again,” She started, “ But it isn’t safe for you to stay.” Your eyes started to water

“But I-I have powers now, I can defend myself! I won’t be any trouble, it’ll be like I’m not even here” At this point, anything was better than going back to being invisible. “Please...I don’t want to go back...” 

Hearing the desperation in your voice broke Pams, Harleys, and Danny's heart. Pam because this was the daughter of her closest friend. She vowed to protect you from anything the day you came to her after losing your mother. Seeing you like this just reminded her how she, in her mind, has failed you. Seeing you so desperate to get away from the man who broke your heart reminded Harley of herself. The nights she would sneak into the tiny apartment you shared with Pammy, in hopes of escape only to get drawn back with empty promises. So yeah, she had a small soft spot for you. And Danny, you were the only person who saw him after months of being invisible. He felt like he needed to help you in your mission to get your father regret ignoring you.

“Hey Pammy...maybe we should call him...” Harley started to suggest. 

“NO, I’d rather drink weed killer than go to that...orphan collector for help.” the red head spat. “ No. We’ll figure it out but she can stay here for now.”

Hearing that you had a place to call home now, gave you the motivation to go and confront your father. Not only for ignoring you, but for leaving you in that..cell for two weeks. He didn’t even attempt to look for you as far as you knew. You’d have thought at least one of the other Avengers would have came to save you. But no one came. After all those years, no one came.

“Y/n.. your eyes” Danny whispered, his cold hand touching your arm snapped you out of your mind. The neon glow of your eyes faded to your normal e/c. 

“ Aunt Pam, Harley is there any way you guys can get me to New York and back?” You ask, finally ready to confront your father. 

“ Well....” Harley say as with a smirk

~~~~~~~~~one terrifying ride on a stolen batplane later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving to New York you made Pam and Harley wait a few blocks away from the tower, as you really didn’t want the Avengers to find out your aunt was a wanted criminal. You “went ghost” as Danny like to call it and snuck into the Tower with ease. You then snuck into your room, seeing everything covered in a layer of dust as no one has been in there for over two weeks. You packed a bag and filled it with some clothes, books and a picture of you and your mother. You took that bag and walked to the door, looking around at the room that was both you prison and safe space. It was decorated with multiple trophies, medals, and ribbons all from the multiple sports and clubs you joined to impress your father. Not like that ever happened. Danny wander around looking at the multiple teams photos you had hung up.

“ You’re a volleyball girl?” he said, “ Huh. I’d never have had guessed.” 

You rolled your eyes as you finished packing. “ Hey I have a job for you.” you say turning to him. “ I need you to go to the control room and turn off the power for thirty minutes. Then turn it back on and come find me in the common room.”

“ Yes ma’am” Danny says, saluting and disappearing through the wall before he comes back. “Ummm, wheres the control room?” 

You roll your eyes and explain how to get to the control room and wait. When the lights go out and you’ll make your move. Your father would have to pass through the common room to get to the control room from his lab, which you assume he’ll be. There you’ll be waiting for him. 

The lights go out. It’s showtime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony's POV

The team spent three more days searching for you. They followed every lead and half of the team even flew out to the building that collapsed an hour ago. Tony, Steve, and Natasha stood behind to look at more clues. It was a little past midnight, and both Steve and Natasha went to bed leaving Tony to tinker in his lab. Tony was making improvements to a certain spider suit as he thought about what his daughter said to him before she went missing.

“Sir, there seems to be someone in Y/--” FRIDAY started to say when the power cut out.

“FRIDAY??” Tony questioned as he walked out to check the control room, making sure to get his nano bracelet just incase. As he walked down the hallway he thought about waking up Steve and if he was brave enough to wake Natasha when he heard it.

“Hi daddy.”

Tony stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up in disbelief. The lights turned back on to reveal his daughter. Wearing a black halter top, spandex leggings, grey boots with elbow length gloves. She looked skinny, as if she hadn’t had a proper meal in the weeks she was gone. And for some reason the air was cold in the room. But there she stood.

‘Y/n” Tony said breathlessly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n pov

As you wait for Tony to walk in,you look around the common room and reminisce. You think about the time when you first moved in, and you got lost trying to find the bathroom and accidently walked into Natashas room. YOu thought she was going to kill you but ended up walking you to the restroom and back to your room. Or when you made the volleyball team way back in eighth grade, and you ran home to tell your dad but ended up telling the whole team, who were rarely all together, and they all took you out to get ice cream, minus Tony. You had to admit, even though your dad didn’t pay attention to you, Nat and Steve did. As well as the whole team, but those two really became the parental figures in your life. That’s why it hurt when not even they came for you. Even they had forgotten you.

“Hi daddy” you said in a mocking voice. Your father stopped dead in his tracks, as he looked you over in disbelief.

“Y/n”, he said in a breathless voice. 

“Oh, you remember my name?” You say in an sarcastic tone. “ Didn’t seem like you did when you left me in a hydra cell for two weeks.” 

Hearing that you were a prisoner of Hydra made Tony’s blood freeze. 

“Hydra? Oh Y/N are you okay? What did they do to you?” He asked frantically as he walk towards you with the intent of checking if you were injured. You jerk away from him, avoiding his touch and say

“ Oh, I’m wonderful. Just so fucking fantastic. I was just experimented on and injected with various liquids that caused excruciating pain. No big deal” 

“ Y/n..we spent days trying to look for you. Me and the team--”

“You and the team what Tony? I was there for two weeks. TWO WEEKS I WAS POKED AND PRODDED. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.” You scream, anger filling your heart as you remember the agony you went through. You think about the scratches on the wall of the cells, the taunts from the guards, and screams of the undead.

“ You have no idea what I went through. What I’m going through.” You say, feeling your body grow colder as you lose control and start to shift. “ You don’t care about me. If I were Parker, you would have saved mem within SECONDS.”

“That's not true. Y/N you have no idea how much I love you.” Tony tries to say. He’s filled with the need to tell you everything he didn’t tell you before. “I know I haven’t always been the best father. Trust me I know that now. But if you give me a chance, I want to make everything right. Please.” 

You didn’t think it would go like this. In fact you were not at all prepared for Tony to say this. You expected to walk in on him continuing his life as normal, tinkering in his lab and such. You had always yearned to hear him say those words to you. But now, they just fill you with anger.

“You think you could just tell me what I want to hear and what? I’ll just act like nothing happened?? I know you’re not that stupid.” You spit, the room growing colder as you get angrier. “ It’s too late for all that Tony. I’m not the same girl i was two weeks ago.i won;t take it any longer.” 

“Y/n..your eyes” Tony says as he slowly starts to put his gauntlet bracelet on, realising that you are becoming a threat. 

“ Oh do you like them?”, You ask “ This is what happened when they injected me. I can also do this.” You shift, shades of blue taking over brown skin. Tony stared at you in awe and a bit of fear. 

“ Y/n this isn’t you. I know you’re angry but--” “ Isn’t me?” You interrupt.” You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m like. And even if you did the old me died in that cell. Literally I died” You and Tony stared at each other. and that's when you heard the doors open. Two sets of footsteps started rushing to the commotion. 

“Y/N some red head and beefy blonde are on their way” You hear Danny say as you realize you had to wrap it up. If anyone can convince you to stay, it’s Steve and Nat.

“ It doesn’t matter anymore Tony.” you say as you start walking to the window. “ I can’t stay here anymore. There’s nothing for me. You win. Peter can be the child you always wanted cause from now on, consider me dead.” and with that, you phase threw the window and let yourself fall, knowing that you won’t actually fall as you can fly. 

Tony freaks out and calls for his suit, only to see a blue blur shoot up and across the sky. Then he just sits there and stares. The footsteps reach the common room and he hears someone ask 

“ Stark..what was all the yelling. What's going on?” 

“she's gone” He says, and that's when he truly realizes his mistake. He became what he never wanted to become. He became his father. And now you were gone.

Taglist: @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

[chibinekochan]

My biggest treasure - Ft. Mammon

Mammon is a Goblin in this au.

This is part of the Monster tales au Series

-------

You have been on the hunt for this treasure for a while now.

Having all the information about its whereabouts, defenses, and most importantly feeling morally right.

Its owner is a scummy guy after all.

This gem will not only bring you some nice cash, and bringing it back to its rightful owner will surely feel good too.

With well-planned moves, you make your way towards the big mansion.

Now you have to climb the wall. You have studied the moves of the guards.

They won't be around for a while.

With quiet steps, you move in the darkness. Only a few moves are needed to scale the wall and carefully jump on a neighboring tree.

Swiftly scan the area.

It seems the dogs haven't noticed you yet.

You want to keep it that way and continue your way on top of the trees. Carefully navigating through the shadows, practically becoming one of them.

Slowly, the lights of the mansion come into view.

The carefully kept garden is now in front of you.

The shrubs will offer you a little cover and the dogs might sense your presence. You smirk. Time for the real challenge to begin.

You take a deep breath to strengthen your nerves.

With ease, you jump from the tree and run at high speed through the garden, occasionally jumping over hedges.

By the time you hear dogs barking, you have already climbed the balcony and wait for clear air.

The guards check the hedges, but of course find nothing.

.

You smirk when they shrug and go back to their posts.

You wait a bit longer and then carefully and quietly open the door.

Your body is moving low and fast, knowing exactly where your target is. Lucky for you, the scumbag has a huge ego and displays what you are looking for right in his living room.

You sneak in the shadows, listening to every sound. It's quiet. You can only hear your own heart and breathing.

Then you see it slightly shimmering, illuminated by the moon. The gem you are looking for.

You calm your nerves and steady your hands.

Then suddenly you hear a commotion, loud barking from the outside. Some lights in the mansion turning on and glass shattering.

Unsure what just happened, your instinct kicks in and all you can do is run.

Light starts to shine into the room, causing the gem to sparkle as if to mock you.

You run towards the nearest window, ready to jump out.

When suddenly something passes you at high speed. For a moment you pause until you notice it's a person.

This must be whoever interrupted you.

You have no time to stay, you hear the guards closing in.

With little choice, you run and jump after the stranger.

The guards behind you yell, and the dogs chase you.

There is no time for anything else but running. You run in a straight line towards the wall. Following close behind the other person.

Once you jump the wall, you have to make sure that nobody is following you. You can still keep an eye on the other person.

Only catching a quick glance at them. White hair and blue eyes. You take a mental note of it.

Your pursuers are still behind you, and you decide to go deeper into the forest to shake them off or at least to hide.

You can smack the guy another time.

By the next day, you are back in your home. The loss of income is a hard blow to your family,, but it can't be helped. It's better to be poor but free.

Your siblings were disappointed,, but you can make money more honestly until another opportunity arises.

Hopefully, the medicine for your smallest sibling will last long enough. Worryingly, you eye the half-empty bottle.

"It's okay, we will work hard and buy more." Ian, the 2nd oldest, Ian, has seen your worries.

You ruffle their hair. "Don't worry about it. I will trade some herbs with the pharmacist and in the bar tonight again." You smile to ease their worries.

"You work too much." The 2nd youngest, Eva, looks worried.

"We have to get food, so we can cook a good meal. I will catch fish for us." Ian is suddenly super motivated.

"Yeah, I will get some veggies from our garden. Rest so you can work hard for us later." Eva has taken care of the garden and grown some stuff.

Your heart is filled with pride, and you hug them both. "You guys are the best, just don't forget to play with your friends too." You feel bad about being so poor,, but it can't be helped. After losing both parents, you are left as the oldest to take care of them.

And you do everything for them, even if it means stealing.

You go and rest for a while until sunset.

Then you cook the fish and vegetables that your siblings got for tonight. They are very good kids. You are very proud of them. You make soup for your youngest sibling, Owen.

"Dinner is ready." You dish everyone up, making sure your siblings get more than you.

"Looks great." Eve beams at the food.

"I worked hard for this fish, so you better eat it all." Ian looks at both of you sternly.

"Thank you both for the food." You are truly grateful to them.

"Will you have to go again soon?" Ian knows well that I have to leave them alone sometimes due to my 'nightwork'.

It can take days to get the treasure and to get my money. Not even mentioning the time I have to spend hiding. Still, the pay is so high that I can't afford not doing it.

"I will have to see,, but currently I have nothing lined up." I know it's hard for them when I'm not here,, but there is no other way for me to afford the medicine.

Ian seems troubled.

"Don't frown, Ian, we can handle everything just fine." Eve pats his back.

"Well, of course, but I'm worried about you." Ian becomes confident, but then frowns at you.

"Haha, I can watch out for myself. I'm plenty strong." I giggle. Sometimes he acts like the dad. It's sad that they all have to grow up so fast.

"Yeah, like the time you beat that bear. That was so cool!" Eve's eyes sparkle.

Ian shakes his head. "That was scary."

"I gotta agree with you. I will go and check on Owen. He needs to eat." You worry about the amount of food he eats. It's definitely not enough.

The others keep bickering, and you walk into the room. You open the windows, fill the pitcher with water, and check on Owen. He looks at you with tired eyes,, but he is smiling weakly.

"Hey there, sleepy head. Time for food." You smile, trying to hide your worries.

"I'm not really hungry." He says with a weak voice.

"It's very tasty. So why not try a bit?" His state breaks your heart,, but you fight through it.

Owen nods and you help him sit.

You feed him slowly. He seems to like it. This is relieving.

At some point, he can't eat anymore. "You ate half a bowl today. Great work." You encourage him.

Then you change his bedding and shake his pillows before giving him his medicine.

He frowns.

"I know it's bitter, but it helps, right? I have an apple for dessert if you take it all." You bribe him with a sliced apple.

"Pudding would be better." Owen smiles sheepishly.

"Pudding makes everything better. I will see what I can do." Sadly, even pudding is a luxury for us. I wonder if I can get a portion for everyone?

"It's alright, I like apples." Owen knows more about your situation than he lets on.

Owen bravely takes his medicine and eats a few slices of the apple.

You bring the rest to your other siblings.

Then you do a few chores before heading to work.

It's going to be a long night, you can already tell.

The bar you work at is a bit rowdy, the patrons are ruff, but overall good people. It's usually fun to work at the place.

The gruff owner is a nice guy, who often gives you 'leftovers' or stuff his wife made that he apparently really doesn't like. You know that neither is true,, but you are also not one to just take handouts, and he is also a bit awkward,, so this is how you two handle things.

"Hey, I'm in." I say hi to the owner, who grunts at me.

I start to clean the floor and prepare everything for opening time.

"Hey, the wife made some strange stuff again. Please take it off my hands' kiddo?" The owner shoves a box towards you.

It's definitely food that smells great. "Are you sure? It sure smells nice."

"Get it off me, before I toss it out." The owner frowns.

I take the box. "Alright, thank the wife for me." I smile at him and put the box in the back.

"You're gonna make her believe her food is any good." He grumbles.

"Don't let her hear that,, or she might believe you." I grin at him, knowing that he loves her food.

He shrugs. "We've got game night tonight so if it gets rowdy, feel free to kick them."

With game night, he means gambling. It's not really legal, but it brings good business but of course also some strange people.

"Sure thing. I hope we get some big spenders tonight." Usually, the drunken winners give nice tips.

"You just keep dreaming big kiddo, as long as we make money I'm happy." He keeps cleaning glasses while talking.

You clean the last few tables and get the gaming stuff ready, it's just a box of dice, cards and such things.

Slowly the guests are pouring in. Most of which you know on a first-name. They order their usual. These guests aren't only here for gambling, they are here on most nights anyway.

Then when night breaks a different clientele is pouring in and filling the tables.

They all know the game. Trading money for snacks or coasters. Some use their means of hiding the money in play.

The owner keeps a close eye on everything from a distance. While you keep filling glasses.

Nothing strikes you as odd until you see a Goblin on one of the tables. This by itself isn't all that unusual, all kinds of folk come here after all. This goblin somehow strikes you as odd.

Then suddenly you realize, his hair color is white. That is certainly unusual, sadly you can't see his eyes since he wears yellow-tinted glasses.

This might be the guy that screwed you over. You feel anger rising at this realization. Even if he probably didn't mean to, he still cost you a nice paycheck.

For a while, you try to keep a close eye on him but the other customers keep you busy.

Especially when a guy wins big and throws around for everyone. Of course, this is a cause for celebration for everyone.

Now with the alcohol level raised you have to use your kicking abilities a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You handle yourself well and the owner kicks a few rowdy guests out.

Finally, it calms down a bit in the early hours of the morning.

You sigh deeply, but it was pretty successful. You got a big tip from one guy.

The goblin is forgotten by now.

"I don't need you for the rest of the night." This is the owner's way of telling you to go home and rest.

"Thanks. Don't make too long." You glance around at the few leftover guests.

"No worries, I will kick em out soon." He grumbles.

You take the food and head out the backdoor.

The cool night air feels good on your skin, you take a deep breath and start walking.

Once, you pass by a tight ally, and you notice a group of guys harassing someone.

Under your watch! It seems to be three guys, all rather drunk. You can take them.

You walk towards the guys. "Hey, I think that's enough."

"Huh, what's that? Are you kiddn me?" One of the drunks looks towards me.

"Whatever that guy did, he had enough. You all don't want to go to jail for killing a guy, do you?" You huff at them, trying to look bigger than you are.

"Aw, come on, he has it comin. This guy is a cheat." The other man kicks the poor victim.

You shake your head. "Come on guys, just go home, he learned his lesson."

The guy on the floor groans. "I'll be good, I swear." He doesn't sound super convincing, to be honest.

The drunks shuffle around. Seemingly unhappy to leave.

"Guys go home. You got your money back, so your wife won't be mad,, but they might be if you are in jail for murder." You try to convince them.

The guys seem to freeze up. "Ah, well, it's late anyway. You better not show your face here again." With that, they shuffle off.

You sigh with relief when they walk away. You then go to check on the man on the floor.

Now you notice it's the Goblin you saw earlier. His glasses are shattered on the floor, revealing his blue eyes. So it might be that thief from the other night after all.

"Ugh… that hurt. Thanks for that." He staggers while trying to get up.

"You might want to go to a doctor for these injuries." You glare at him.

"What's with that look? Do I know you? D-don't tell me I owe you money?!" Suddenly he seems to be much better and gets up. Seemingly trying to get some distance between you.

"I don't even know you." You glare at him. "Though I'd say you owe me for saving your butt." You feel like he is pretty ungrateful.

"Well, thanks then… Umm, I got no cash, but here I got this necklace." He rummages through his pockets and pulls out a necklace from somewhere.

He dangles it in front of you.

You can only frown at it. "Gee, thanks."

"Hey, it ain't any day that I give stuff like that. So be grateful." He huffs at you.

"I'd be more grateful if it wasn't gaudy or fake." You take the clearly fake jewelry. Maybe Eve will like it.

"Fake? You can tell with just one glance?" He seems impressed.

You feel like he has just seen right through you. "It's a special talent." You shrug and play it cool.

"Well, in that case. I could use your special skills for a job. I need someone to tell me what the valuables are." He changes right into business mode.

"Are you offering illegal work to me?" You act all offended.

"Come on, the job in that dingy bar doesn't pay well. I'd split 90:10." He smiles at you.

"I gladly take that 90 percent, very generous." You know that's not his offer,, but he somehow irritates you.

"It'll be 10 for you,, obviously." He shakes his head.

"No, thanks. I don't trust you anyway." You glare at him.

"Fine, how about 30 percent?" He throws his hand up as if he is being generous.

"More like 70 for me if you can't even tell what's fake." You can't believe that you are still talking to this guy.

He sighs. "Alright, I get it, same risk same reward right? So 50:50. My last offer."

"You seem quite desperate. What kind of stuff are we talking about here, anyway?" Now you are getting curious.

"It's an old mansion. Real old money. Real old scum, too. I just want to grab some of their valuables. It's not like they're gonna miss it anyway." He is vague,, but you somehow feel like you know what place he is talking about.

"Does that happen to be the raven mansion?" The place where your heist was interrupted.

His eyes go wide. "How'd you know?"

"Let's just say that I got interrupted in my own business by some amateur." You glare at him.

"Wait… t-that was you? Oh man, you were ama… umm I mean you were okay." The tips of his ears glow dark.

"You should grovel for what you have done. Screwed me right out of a job." Finally, you can let your anger out.

"I had no idea you were there. I'm sorry." He seems at least half earnest. "So that only means you already know the place, and you can finish the other job there too. I'd take no cut of that either. See, I'm very generous."

"Says the guy that offered me ten percent." You huff at him.

"That was just testing the waters, I'd given you at least 30." He puffs his cheeks. "So it's all settled then?"

"No, I still don't trust you." You eye him carefully.

"What would it take for you to take the job?" He asks, also looking for a sign of weakness in me.

"Well, first of all your name." This is an important first step, at least.

"Ah, could've said you were interested. I mean, you were eyeing me in the bar the whole time. I'm down if you are." He calmly shrugs.

You take a step towards him. "You wish." You look him right in the eyes, glaring at him.

He awkwardly looks away. "J-just saying I'm a handsome goblin…"

"I have seen better. Besides, it means that you checked me out, doesn't it?" You grin at him.

His cheeks turn dark. "N-no, I just felt a burning gaze on me the entire time."

"That was disdain and nothing else." You cross your arms.

"Call it whatever you want." He huffs and turns his head awkwardly. "Anyway, how am I supposed to show that you can trust me?"

"How about telling me your name?" You eye him with suspicion.

"I'm the great Mammon. Better not forget it." He puffs his chest in a display of pride.

You don't acknowledge his presentation whatsoever. "What are you planning to do with that treasure?"

"I'm gonna sell it for cash to pay some debts. I might keep a thing or two for my collection too." Mammon seems pretty honest about it, at least.

"With that, you mean you pawn it and gamble." You only can guess,, but his behavior at the bar speaks volumes.

He seems to feel called out. "Hey, I'm good at gambling, just some people think I'm too good ya know?"

"Nobody is good at it, it's just luck and in your case cheating. You should know better than to gamble all your cash." You start to lecture him.

"I get it, I get it." He sighs. "You sound like my big bro." He sighs deeply. "So, this is all you want to know?"

You think for a moment. "I don't know,, but I guess it's enough for now. I'd wish I had some security at least.” You sigh. "I know it can't be helped."

"I get ya, you've got a life you can't just go or whatever." Mammon seems to agree with you. "Alright, I don't like doing this,, but I got something that might convince you." He then starts to rummage through his vest, he obviously has some hidden pockets in there.

He then produces a gold coin. "Here ya go. I want it back after the job is done. So better not lose it." Mammon seems a bit reluctant to let the coin go.

"This coin seems important to you." You carefully inspect it, it's real, but there seems to be some story here.

"Goldie is my personal good luck charm." He looks almost fondly at the coin.

You smile, somehow this is cute. When you realize your smile, you make your face freeze once more.

"Alright, I acknowledge you as my partner." You reach your hand out to him.

"So that's what it took,, huh?" He seems a bit confused but also relieved.

You shake hands and the deal is sealed.

Mammon suggests a meeting point in a few days' time. He needs to heal and prepare after all.

You also have to make sure your siblings are taken care of. So this works for you.

[beau-draws-and-cries]

Late Night Demonics - Hunter Clawthorne AU Oneshot

Summary: Hunter is still adapting to the little demon sharing the bedroom with him

Tags: Hunter clawthorne au, king clawthorne, the owl house, fluff

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33452722

"Psst. Hunter. Hunter. Hunter." King baped him on the face. 

"What!" Hunter said, annoyed by being woken up when he was almost dozing off. The small demon was on his chest, holding one of the plushies Eda gave to him, with those big yellow and pink eyes seemingly staring into his soul "What do you want??? Stop baping me!"

"I, huh, need to go to the bathroom." He muttered, like he was ashamed of asking for it.

"You know where the bathroom is." Hunter said, a bit dry, trying to get into a comfortable position again. 

King looked between the door and Hunter, whimpering a bit, and when Hunter closed his eyes, King baped him on the face again.

"I really, really, really need to go." Now he got sad eyes on, begging something without words, the said eyes slightly glowing into the dim light. Hunter groaned, it looked like he had no choice. He slowly got up, and King went to the floor, near Hunter's leg. 

On the corridor, Hunter was already really annoyed and it got worse when something cracked on the house and King hugged his leg tightly, closing his eyes and whining. When he looked down to King to yell for him to let go of him, something hit Hunter like a truck. That was an actual demon child. Small, scared, needing comfort. He could talk like he knew about stuff and like he lived a long life before being this small child, but King was a 4 years old or so that still was scared of the dark and other stuff, and needed help to stop being scared and just…. Go to the bathroom.  

"Hey, huh, that sound is Hooty snoring. The walls are kinda alive so sometimes the whole house breathes. It freaked me out a lot when I moved here because it seemed like the house would fall apart with me inside. But after you get used to, it's kinda soothing." Hunter calmed him down, remembering that that was how Eda explained it to him on the second week he spent there.

"Really?" The house breathed again, making him scared, but not as much as before, looking around instead of hiding his face into Hunter's leg.

"See? Not scary at all. Just old Hooty-hoot doing his… stuff." They kept walking down the corridor, and finally got into the bathroom. King quickly used it, feeling brave enough to close the door while at it (which Hunter thanked), and then Hunter helped him to reach the sink and wash his paws.

"Every time you come here, wash your paws well. You can get sick and get other people sick if you don't."

King nodded, doing as he was told, and was put on the floor again. They walked half of the corridor when Hunter scooped him up, seeing that his small, short legs were getting tired, and after all, the fur and bone didn't feel that bad against his skin, unlike other witches' skin (one of the reasons he hated the playground. The kids would keep hugging him and touching without asking. And for some reason it always felt sticky and made Hunter want to cry and throw up at the same time), so he could stand it brushing on his arms.

He walked back into the bedroom, putting King into his bed and tucking him in, then laying down on his own bed.

"Night night." King said.

"Night night, little guy." Hunter answered.

"When I get back my powers, I will be remembering this." He said, again telling that story of his powers being stolen with his crown.

"Thank you, King. I would be honored." Hunter played along, smiling. Some minutes passed and Hunter felt something climbing his bed, getting on his chest "Need to go to the bathroom again?" 

"I can't sleep."

"Oh. Well, I am kinda awake too. Huh, have you ever read Demonics: a detailed encyclopedia?" 

"No! What is that?" 

"It's a book I checked in from the library a while ago. It's very interesting, but I never had an actual demon to read it with me." Hunter smiled at him, and got up to get the book in his wardrobe. After sitting on the bed, he lit up his bedside light and King cuddled up in his arms, looking at the book "Do you wanna choose a chapter or can we start from the beginning?"

"I wanna start from the beginning!" King said, excited. Hunter did so, starting to read the introduction for him, and at some point King stopped him "How do you know this is written there?"

"Oh, huh, I read the words on the page. Those formed by the little letters."

"What letter is that?" King pointed to a number 5.

"That's a number. They're used for counting things. Its name is number five. Here, let me show you the numbers. There's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight and nine. There's also the zero that means nothing. Then you can mix and match to form bigger numbers." He skipped to the last page of the encyclopedia "Like the number 867." 

"That's a lot of numbers." King said, amazed.

"Yea, and those are the meanings." Hunter proceeded to show the numbers but now with his hands, closing the hands to show zero. King seemed to be interested, tail waving lightly "Then we got twenty, thirty, fourty… and we go on and on and on and on because numbers are infinite."

"What does infinity means?" King asked, raising his small fingers (claws?) To try to count them.

"It means that something never ends."

"Woah, that's so cool! I hope this book never ends."

"Sorry buddy, but we got only like, 820 pages worth of content. But after we're done with this one, we can get another book at the library."

"And then it will be infinite?"

"Well, no." Hunter said, scratching King's head "But there's a whole lot of books, and it would take a very long time to read all of them. It would look infinite for us." 

King closed his eyes, getting comfier into Hunter arms. After sometime like this, he opened his eyes again, pointing at a letter B on the page.

"What is this letter?"

"It's the letter B. Boiling Isles starts with a B."

"Ohh. So all words start with letters?"

"Yes, all words, like my name or yours."

"And which letter is the first on my name?"

Hunter looked on the page for a K, and got a piece of paper and pen from the drawer. He pointed at a letter K.

"It starts with this letter." He then wrote it on paper "Then there's an I. Can you copy the letter I am pointing at the paper?" He handed the pen, and King nodded, making a shaky I after the K "And now there's an N." He pointed at the N, and waited until King copied it "And then a G. K-I-N-G. King. That is your name."

King cheered, asking for another piece of paper and writing his name over and over. After he got tired of writing the same thing, he cuddled up on Hunter's lap again.

"Can we continue the book?" 

"Sure thing, King." Hunter nodded, continuing to read the book for the small demon, until eventually both fell asleep.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king epilogue: wooyoung || atz

There’s a girl.

She stands in the surf, the waves lapping over bare feet, strands of her hair flying with the sea breeze. Softened by the light of the sun just as it peeks over the horizon, burning orange sets the silhouette of her aflame, it’s as if she’s the sun herself, bringing with her warmth that seeps into cold fingers, gentle light that slowly fills his entire night even before he notices.

There’s a girl, and she’s out of reach.

He tries to take a step forward, to call her name, one hand reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. His lips move and nothing passes his ears, drowned out by the sea wind. But she hears and begins to turn around, and he just wants to see that radiant smile on her face one more time-

There’s a girl, and it’s a dream.

He wakes up.

Wooyoung’s disoriented for a moment, the sea fading away in his eyes to be replaced by the ceiling of the room. The sounds of Yunho’s noisy snores in the bed opposite him bring him back to reality, slowly but surely, and he sits up, one hand rubbing at his eyes while the other drags through his hair in an attempt to tame his messy bedhead.

Light and chain free.

Letting out a yawn, he turns his head to glance at bed next to his and finds it empty, the sheets already neatly folded and pillow fluffed. It’s barely the crack of dawn.

He shifts to the side of his bed and looks out of the window, the familiar smell of sea salt on the air and soft amber light striking the blue aquamarine gem on his bedside table, throwing soft blue and orange flecks of light everywhere in the room.

He watches the sun rise until it lifts away from the sea into the sky, before he gets to his feet and changes into a simple shirt and trousers, slipping the silver hairpin into his belt.

It’s a new day today.

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” Yeosang greets him as Wooyoung slips down into the living area of the house. Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow at him. “You’re up early.”

“I had some strange dreams and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I came down here to read for a bit.” Yeosang points at the book sitting in front of him on their dining table, a cup of coffee beside him. “Jongho got us breakfast from Seonghwa’s before he went fishing this morning.“

The fragrance of Seonghwa’s beef stew fills his nose and he sniffs appreciatively, glancing around Yeosang to see the pot hanging over their hearth fire. “It looks good.”

“Hurry, eat and wake Yunho up so we can go. We have a lot of things to prepare today.”

“Isn’t your turn to wake Yunho today?” Wooyoung reaches for a bowl and ladles some beef stew into it, perching himself on the table and legs dangling over the side. Even after leaving the ocean for three years, he still can’t get used to the feeling of sitting down on a chair. “And Jongho’s out early. What for?”

“He says there’s been strange sightings of a giant squid monster further out and wants to check it out for himself, the brave soul.” Yeosang chuckles as he flips a page, and Wooyoung catches sight of an ink drawing of a tentacles monster on the paper. “And as for Yunho, you offered to wake him up this morning yesterday in exchange for me doing the dinner dishes.”

The memory is hazy at best, but Wooyoung remembers stumbling into the house late at night, completely exhausted and on the brink of falling asleep on the doorstep if it hadn’t been for Jongho dragging him into his bed by the scruff of his neck. “Ah, shit. You sholdn’t let me make regretable decisions when I’m clearly not in the right state of mind.”

Yeosang shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “Well, it benefitted me, so of course I’d agree.” Wooyoung makes a face at that, sticking his spoon into his mouth. The familiar taste of Seonghwa’s food instantly brightens his mood and chases away some of the fear that accompanies his later task.

All too soon, the bowl grows empty while his trepedition grows. When it is scraped clean, Wooyoung looks down at it with a sigh before turning to Yeosang. “How about we make this a team effort?”

Yeosang shakes his head, eyes shining with amusement. “You’re on your own.” He makes a shooing motion with his fingers. “Remember to dodge if he starts snorting, being kicked by him hurts.”

Wooyoung sighs, rising to his feet. “Yes sir.”

>>>

A few swung fists, a near encounter with a black eye and an apologetic Yunho later, the three of them head out to their usual place, Yunho and Wooyoung trailing after Yeosang with their arms laden with books. The second they near the familiar iron wrought gates, they hear delighted shouting from one of the upper floor windows.

“It’s Yeosang-oppa!”

“Yeosang and his two slaves!”

At the title, Wooyoung laughs loudly, amused. “Even the kids know how much we’re worked to the bone because of him.” Wooyoung jokes and Yunho lets out a snort as he raises a hand to wave to the kids. “Now, if only they would call us by name instead of ‘Yeosang’s lackeys’... I understand how Captain feels.”

“Well, he’s the teacher and we’re just his assistants.” Yunho replies, the three of them stepping into the orphanage compound. The bright faces from the second floor window quickly vanish, and Wooyoung hears the pitter patter of small feet before the front door is thrown open and excited children spill out of the small building.

“Teacher Yeosang!”

“Look, look! I made a drawing of three of you!”

“Teacher Yeosang, read us that pirate story again!”

“Teacher Yeosang, could you help me solve this mathematics problem...”

“Ahh ahh, no need to be impatient, all of you.” Yeosang chides and the children instantly fall silent, all of them vibrating on the spot with excitement. Wooyoung can’t help but snicker at the sight, they’re quite adorable. “Let me head in and get the room set up first, alright? I brought new books for all of you today.”

“You mean we brought the books.” Yunho says loudly from behind him, waving the stack of hardbacks in his hands for extra effect. Some of the children burst out into little giggles, and Yeosang rolls his eyes goodnaturedly.

“The specifics aren’t important.” He retorts, before he leans down to whisper to the children. “If all of you behave, I’ll read the story of ‘Pirate King’ for all of you, alright?”

Their faces light up instantly, before their little hands grab at Yeosang’s clothes and they begin to pull him into the orphanage, chattering excitedly. “Hurry up! I wanna hear the pirate story again!”

“Pirate story! The pirate king!”

Yeosang casts a helpless look back over his shoulder as the children practically manhandle him into the building.

Save me.

Wooyoung and Yunho exchange looks, before they both give him serene smiles and wave simultaneously.

Good luck.

Yeosang’s glare burns into them the entire way, much to their amusement.

In the lesson room, a small dining space cleared of its usual tables and chairs save for one, Yeosang sits before the group of excited children, his book in his hands as he begins to read aloud.

“Legends say that out there, sailing across the ocean somewhere, is a pirate ship called the Treasure that has plundered every land of its gold and jewels.” Sitting at the back of the room, Yunho and Wooyoung watch as Yeosang slips on his reading glasses. The expression on his face is one of calm focus even though the story he’s reading is nothing but a simple tale, and his audience merely a group of young children even though he’s held debates before scholars and distinguished men.

“The kids never get tired of this story, do they?” Wooyoung says out of the corner of his mouth. Yunho stifles his own laughter, his head leaning back to rest against the wall with a quiet thump.

“Well, the writers did make it very dramatic.” He says softly, so as to not disturb the kids. “It was a lot more boring, the way we lived it. From how they tell it, it’s as if we got into battle every week. They completely missed out the most important, boring thing that happened on board, which was-”

“- lookout duty.” Both of them echo at the same time, and Wooyoung snickers.

“The mizzenmast is still better.”

“Even in a pile of ashes, the main mast is still of more substance that yours.”

Wooyoung covers his mouth with both hands and tries not to laugh too hard.

Across the room, Yeosang levels a glare at the two of them and they shut up instantly, Wooyoung miming locking up his lips and throwing the key over his shoulder.

“The pirate king was a terrible, fearsome man with a reputation that stretched across the oceans-” Yeosang’s barely a few seconds into the story when he’s interrupted.

A young boy throws his hand up, eyes shining with excitement. “Was the pirate king huge?” Yeosang pauses, brows furrowed. “Uhh...”

“He must have been really big and strong if he was so scary!” Another girl pipes up, and Yeosang glances back at the two of them for help. Upon finding none, he nods slowly, a slight grimace on his face. “Oh, yes. He was uhh... very big and scary, almost a head taller than Yunho back there and the size of two men across.”

Yunho coughs loudly into his palm, and Wooyoung can see him struggling to keep the smile off his face. The thought of their captain in the proportions that Yeosang described makes Wooyoung want to laugh till his sides hurt.

“The pirate king and his pirate band ATEEZ crossed the oceans and raided several towns, terrifying townspeople and Royal Navy alike. He would catch misbehaving kids... and steal them away!”

The children jump in their seats, eyes wide. “Steal misbehaving children?” One of the more boisterous boys calls out from the back, looking slightly nervous. Yunho grins from behind, rising to his feet silently and taking quiet, silent steps towards him.  Yeosang nods seriously, his eyes flickering towards the creeping battlemaster at the back for a brief moment before returning his attention to the children.

“Oh, yes.” He says, voice dropping to a low whisper. “The pirate king would steal around in the middle of the night, when the lamps burn low and the shadows seem to watch you from the foot of the bed.” The children seem to be completely enraptured by his words, eyes huge like dinner plates and their mouths hanging open, Yunho going completely unnoticed behind them as he sneaks up on that child. “If you misbehaved, he would climb in through your windows or sneak into your house, and then-”

“Ah!”

The boy at the back screams as Yunho pounces on him, and Wooyoung erupts into laughter at the sight. Panicking, the boy’s arms flail for a second and he ends up smacking Yunho straight in the gut. With a loud, dramatic groan, Yunho sinks to his knees, keeling over onto the floor.

“Ahh... you got me good...”

Wooyoung’s laughing so hard now he can barely keep the tears from the corners of his eyes. “You defeated the pirate king!” The boy cheers, and Yunho gets up from the floor, eyes shining with amusement.

Yeosang shakes his head, but Wooyoung can see the slightest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he flips a page. “Now, what adventure shall I read?”

“The one where he raided a town for chocolate instead of gold!”

“Oh, oh! The story when he had to run away from the Royal Navy!”

“When he faced the sirens!”

“Alright, I got it.” Yeosang’s face is gentle, and he turns the pages of his book once more. “I’ll read all the stories that you want today.”

The children cheer.

The morning passes peacefully, with Yeosang wrapping up his storytelling session with one or two (or a whole lot more untruths about their captain). After that, Yunho and Wooyoung take some of the older boys to the backyard to play some sword fighting, while Yeosang teaches the younger ones their letters.

“What do you intend to do for the rest of the day?” Yunho asks Wooyoung as the two of them finish up arranging the books that they’d brought on the shelves. Wooyoung frowns, pondering this for a second.

“Well, I’m supposed to do quite a lot of deliveries for San and Seonghwa today, so I’ll probably be busy till evening.” He says, shrugging before he slips another book into the shelf. “What about you? Training the recruits at the Royal Navy has got to easy as pie for you, isn’t it? You come home before the sun sets every day.”

Yunho shakes his head, laughing. “Oh, no. They’re all talented, that’s it. I’m just teaching them the basics and they catch on fast. Still,” he glances at Wooyoung, eyes twinkling. “It’s funny that we’ve come to this, isn’t it? Two legendary pirates from the story of the Pirate King, one working as an odd job man and the other training the Royal Navy, of all things.”

Wooyoung nods, fingers stilling on the spine of a book. “Yeah. It’s not something any of us would have seem coming.” He says softly.

After the incident three years ago, the Treasure had been turned to matchwood and the crew returned to normal lives for the first time in years. Learning to get used to walking on flat, unmoving ground once again, smelling flowers and grass instead of the familiar scent of sea salt in the air, sleeping in a bed instead of on a hammock, all these were like taking baby steps back to normalcy, one at a time.

“But I like it, you know.” Yunho says suddenly, voice quiet. Wooyoung blinks at him, prompting him to elaborate further. “No more running, no more fighting, just peace and quiet and an honest living.” He turns and grins at Wooyoung, eyes bright. “I think I’ve had quite enough adventure for a lifetime.”

Wooyoung smiles, turning away to put the books left in his hands on the topmost shelf. “Yeah.” He agrees. “It really was the adventure of a lifetime.”

>>>

San’s apothecary is tucked away from the hustle and bustle of town, right at the foot of a small hill some distance from the port. Barely anyone takes the time to head out there, so Seonghwa’s eatery ended up becoming the place for the townspeople to place orders for medicines and cures. Peace and quiet, San had joked when he’d turned down living with the rest of the crew in town.

Well, it’s certainly a bit too quiet now.

“Oi, San, don’t tell me you’re still sleeping.” Wooyoung calls, banging the door with his fist. No one replies. “San! If you’re not going to let me in, I’m going to break in through your window.”

“You’re going to what now?”

Wooyoung turns around to see San standing behind him, one hand cocked on his hip and a bunch of lavender sprays under one arm. “I was only joking.” Wooyoung shrugs with an easy smile, stepping aside for San to unlock the front door. “You’re the one who wasn’t home when you said you would be.”

San rolls his eyes good naturedly. “I was out gathering these.” He tosses them into Wooyoung’s hands before he rummages about in his apron pocket for the keys. “How were the kids today?”

“They’re filling up nicely, quite a few can read, and now all of them think that Hongjoong is a monster who sneaks about in the middle of the night and kidnaps children.”

San pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “He’s a what?”

Wooyoung shrugs, grinning. “Yeah.”

“Hongjoong’s going to have a fit when he finds out.” San ushers Wooyoung in through the open door. The apothecary is a small redbrick affair, a simple kitchen and living space connected to his far more sizeable workroom. San says he’s used to it after living on the Treasure for so long. Wooyoung shakes his head.

“He might like it. Yeosang made him sound tall.”

San snickers at Wooyoung’s words, tucking the lavender onto one of his shelves before he points to the many vials and bottles on the table. “Here, all the deliveries for today.” Wooyoung peers at the two empty coffee cups left out on the table.

“Someone came by earlier?”

San nods. “If you had just come earlier, you would have run into Hongjoong. His expedition should be starting anytime soon.” He grins at Wooyoung, eyes bright. “How does it feel heading back to sea again after three years?”

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung says, stepping around San to pack the medicines into his bag. The scent of lavender and ylang ylang are soothing, but nothing can quite beat the smell of the ocean. “Good, I suppose. I’ve been having strange dreams about the ocean anyway. Maybe it’s a sign.”

San pauses slightly, eyes glancing over at Wooyoung. “Strange dreams?” He repeats.

“Yeah, of a girl and the ocean. Weird, I know.” Wooyoung explains, hoping the dreams don’t sound too ridiculous. “I can never see her face, but whenever I see her, my chest feels warm. Light. Calm.” Then he chuckles, fingers wrapping tightly around the neck of a bottle. “The chains around my wrists, they just disappeared when I woke up on that island with Captain and Yeosang three years ago. I don’t know what happened, and I still can’t remember.”

Sudden, slight pain pulses through his heart and he grunts, one hand thumping his chest and San rushes to sit him down on a chair. “Don’t force yourself too hard.” San says quietly, handing Wooyoung a honey covered sweet. “Maybe it’ll take time.”

“I thought I’d get the urge to go to a brothel or something, but I just can’t bear the idea of chasing after a woman other than her.” Wooyoung struggles to explain. “I feel like I’m waiting for someone every time I walk past the ocean. And she doesn’t... she doesn’t even exist.”

San watches as Wooyoung runs a heavy hand through his hair, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “I told her you’d never be able to forget her, whether you remember her or not.” San murmurs under his breath, his heart breaking for his best friend. “When I see how much you’re hurting, though, I sometimes wish I was wrong.”

Wooyoung blinks up at him, confused, as he pops the sweet into his mouth. “Huh?”

San shakes his head. “Oh, no, nothing. Just thinking that Hongjoong came by this morning complaining of weird dreams too.”

Wooyoung gives him a half hearted glare, punching him lightly in the arm. “See, you could have just given the two of us check ups so much more easily if you’d just chosen to live with us. You could share a room with Jongho, you know. There’s no point to having two beds in your cramped bedroom.” He points at the two small beds on opposite sides of the house, and San hesitates for a moment.

He can’t very well say he’s clinging onto a hope, dreaming, waiting for a day someone no one else remembers will come home. He can’t say that it hurts when he wakes up into life of normalcy with the rest of the crew but without her there with them. He can’t say that if she’s not there, he’d rather be alone, where the rest of the crew isn’t there to remind him that he’s the only one who holds on to a past no one else remembers.

So instead, he replies casually, “Well, I got used to having two beds on the Treasure. Besides, it’s a good place to dry extra herbs when it happens to rain outside.”

“You like your space, I got it.” Wooyoung chuckles, rising to his feet. He turns back for a moment just as he’s stepping out of the door. “You’re coming by tonight to Seonghwa’s eatery for dinner?”

San nods seriously. “Of course! How could I miss a chance to look at baby Hwaseong... he called me ‘bubu’ on Monday!” The healer clasps his hands together, shaking his head at just how adorable that little angel is. “It reminds me of the days when Jongho was an cute baby too. Now he hasn’t even visited me for two days. That kid’s growing up the wrong way.”

Wooyoung laughs. “I heard from Yeosang that Jongho has been sailing out further these days hoping to catch sight of a giant squid monster locals have been talking about.” San pauses, fingers stilling on a spray of lavender at Jongho’s words.

“A... sea monster?”

“No need to be scared, you’re living all the way inland anyway.” Wooyoung teases, completely mistaking San’s anticipation for fear. “We might hear some of Jongho’s tales tonight if he catches sight of it. Well then,” he waves his bag of deliveries in one hand. “See you later.”

When Wooyoung leaves the house, San catches sight of the silver hairpin tucked into his belt just as the door closes behind him.

“He can’t remember you, yet he can’t let it go either.” San murmurs softly under his breath as he sits down on the bed opposite his, fingers gently brushing linen sheets. Waiting for someone to come home.

“Chin Hae, please... hurry home soon.”

>>>

The sun is just beginning to set when Wooyoung makes his last delivery for the day.

Making his way to Seonghwa’s eatery by the docks, he avoids the red light district and instead chooses to take the long way round by the sea shore. Footsteps quick and light, he’s hurrying along the beach just as his heart begin to throb once more.

“Ahh, ouch.” Wooyoung winces, face screwing up against the pain. Taking a seat in the sand, he quickly unwraps a painkiller that San had given him earlier and pops it into his mouth, biting down hard on it. The bitter taste spreads through his mouth and he gags. “Couldn’t he have made them a little sweeter?”

With a sigh, he lies back in the sand and waits for the pain to abate. They’ve been getting more acute and serious lately, along with the dreams.

Reaching down, he pulls out the silver hairpin in his belt and holds it up to the light of the setting sun. Orange fragments the second it strikes the aquamarine blue surface, the silver petals catching its light. At a single glance, Wooyoung can tell that it’s a beautiful, expensive piece.

But why would he have something like this?

Three years ago, right after they had been released from the Royal Navy after Hongjoong had signed that contract with them... San had given it to him with tears in his eyes, begging him to keep it with him at all times. For no reason at all, Wooyoung couldn’t understand either why he felt so much pain when he looked at it, and yet couldn’t bear to throw it away.

Up till now, Wooyoung still doesn’t know why.

With a sigh, Wooyoung tosses the hairpin up into the air, making to catch it again. All of a sudden, however, a seagull swoops down and grabs it away with its beak, before flying off towards the ocean.

“Hey!” Wooyoung shouts, scrambling to his feet. But the bird is already halfway out to sea, and all Wooyoung catches sight of is a glint of silver as it drops the hairpin into the ocean.

Wooyoung doesn’t know why he’s so furious. It’s just a hairpin, just a stick of metal, that’s all. And yet his heart throbs even more painfully than before, and he simply looks out over the ocean, feeling despondent. What is he going to do now?

Just as he’s thinking that, however, the tide shifts.

Confused, Wooyoung takes a step back as water washes over the tip of his boots. Is it natural for the tide to just rise suddenly like this? Frowning, he takes another step back, until he hears it.

At first, he thinks that his ears must be playing tricks on him. It sounds like a heartbeat from within the ocean, drums in the deep, every wave that rushes towards the shore keeping its slow rhythm. He looks up.

And sees a girl who was definitely not there less than a few seconds ago standing in the surf, reddish brown tentacles slowly slipping away from her form, sliding back into the sea and vanishing from sight. Wooyoung only stares.

She’s dressed in robes spun from sea silk, the fabric shining gold in the light of the setting sun. There’s a silver hairpin in her hand.

“I believe this belongs to you.” She says softly, and memories surge into his head like a tidal wave crashing onto shore.

Him pressing that hairpin in to her hand the day she got her name. Sitting on the yardam with her head resting on his shoulder. Her fingers wrapped around his in the warmth of his pocket. The chains falling from his wrists, falling free away from their hold on his heart.

“When you come back, I promise I’ll tell you how I feel about you.”

“No, it’s yours.” Wooyoung manages to choke out, as he looks at her... no, you. He feels like if he says any more than that, he’ll break down into sobs. You smile at him, taking a step forward.

It’s another dream, isn’t it? He’s just fallen asleep on that beach and now he’s having the most beautiful dream in his life - that you’re back, that he remembers you, that you’re alive.

“Why are you crying? Not happy to see me?” Your voice is slightly teasing as you draw closer, and Wooyoung startles to feel hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

“No, no, I just... the opposite.” He chokes on a sob. One of your hands reach out to cup his cheeks, gently brushing the tears away from them. “I... I just... I... how...”

“Shh, you don’t need to say anything.” You smile, pressing the hairpin into his palm, where he grips it tight. “Can you do my hair again for me?”

He nods wordlessly, unable to speak. You turn around and he takes a few strands of your hair with trembling fingers, lifting it to his lips in a silent, reverent kiss before he starts braiding it back. With every slide of his fingers, the warmth pressing against him starts to sink in bit by bit.

This is real.

You are real.

He’s crying again when he slides the hairpin into the updo to hold it in place. Upon hearing his soft sniffling, you turn around and take his face in your hands gently, prompting him to look into your eyes.

“I’ll keep my promise with you.” You say softly, smiling slightly. Wooyoung only cries louder, unable to find words to speak. “Wooyoung-ah, I love-”

He kisses you hard.

His lips move frantically against yours, deep and hard, as if he’s trying to confirm your existence, that you’re really here with him. He crushes you against him so tight he can feel your heart beat against his chest - you’re real.

There’s a girl, and she’s home.

[albino-whumpee]

The redhead

Ok, so. This story has been cooking on my head for such a long time now and Im gonna be clear with you: I´m aware this first installment and maybe the next won´t be of many people´s liking, so if you don´t like seeing the whumping of minors, I advice you to stay away from this series.

There won´t be any noncon here, but there will be lots of other hurt/comfort tropes and many creepy whumping from multiple whumpers to a pair of whumpees, one adult and one a minor.

I´m also gonna say this is the backstory of one of Albus´s story characters.

I remember sending you an ask @deluxewhump about some ideas for this story and you wanted to be tagged, But, I can´t find them and well. Wanted to give a heads up of what it could contain.

Taglist: @whumptywhumpdump @grizzlie70

CW// Pet whump, whumping of a minor, modern slavery, human trafficking, collars, dehumanization, it as a pronoun, implied death, creepy whumper, conditioning, captivity whump and angst. (ask to tag if I missed something)

House looked like an ordinary orphanage from outside. It had big halls with bunk beds and slim metal closets next to them. Shoes tossed under the beds along with any trinket the children wanted to hide from curious or severe eyes. Beds neatly made early and kids off to the classes on other rooms. There was no need for them to learn to read or write however, so there were no books that weren’t for coloring.

Many of the lessons were taken outside, along buckets and brooms they swiped dutifully, or inside kitchens learning to identify tools and vegetables and memorizing the measurements needed of each ingredient on what recipe. Children did everything under the scrutinizing eyes of teachers who were so, so difficult to appease, but yet again, tried hard to earn their comfort and approval.

So they could graduate and leave.

The very best left early and the not so good would leave bordering their 12. There were only a few that left on their mid teens, and so, the ginger kid wearing the sandy jumper of House’s uniform, coloring with a green crayon the feathers of a toucan, had decided he didnt wanna be like that a long time ago.

He would graduate and leave house and go with a loving family that would take him, that would really love him, just like the teachers told them they would sometime soon.

It was his dream. As it was every child´s wish in House. So, he did as he was told. He cast his big green eyes down when talked to, kept quiet until he was spoken to, paid attention to class and did his tasks before the day ended. He took all the punishments while training, too. Even if he tried to keep it to a minimum, there would always be something that pissed the Teachers off.

For example, dumping the trash. Having to go to the back of the one store building, close to the one beyond the thick brick wall, with its narrow barred windows -just like House´s windows were- from where phantasmagoric sobbing and pained screaming would come through, was the most loathed chore at House. Whenever he was on duty, the little boy shook like a leaf with the heavy plastic bags dragging behind, before throwing them and run back to the building.

One time, the kid saw a pair of thin hands wrapping around the window bars and saw a woman peeking from it, hands shaking with the effort when she panted a wheezy, “help me”

The little boy had never screamed so hard in his short life.

The teachers had been mad at him, but not enough for a crate training reinforcement. He was relieved, to a point, when they punished him to clean the bathrooms alone for a week instead.

As he swiped the floor in the middle of the night, he promised himself he would get out soon. Sooner than his brothers and sisters who wouldn´t dare to defend him, saying outloud how scary the other building was and how some of them couldn´t sleep because they heard the people trapped there scream and beg all night long.

Of course they wouldn’t. Excepting a few who unknowingly shared blood, nobody shared anything but the wish to get out. If you tried to fight the Teachers, it would just delay it further. Every kid knew not to get on their bad side. It was also part of their training to see them as their preliminary Masters. A drill, of how it would be once out.

So when one finally received their collar and graduated to go to the family who had chose them, only the brave ones would wave goodbye. Jealousy taking the better of some, meanwhile others would only feel fear.

He wouldnt be like that either.

The brother he had gotten the most close to, the one who actually did protect him from the other kids bullying, had graduated months ago. Taller than normal for any kid from House -the little boy had heard the teachers say once- the brown kid and black curls with a smile sitting on his face at all times, had been his best friend.

They didn’t have names and they weren´t given one until they graduated. The Teachers used nicknames like “ginger” or “mole” or “mousy”, but that hadn´t stopped them from calling each other a secret name. A name they used only for each other and secretly, considered their true names.

“Are you happy for me, Robin? That I will finally go” Hawk asked him once, while playing on a sunday. The Kid´s free day to go anywhere they wished inside the estate´s perimeter. Close to the brick fence, a river flowed through iron bars, not letting anyone in or out.

Robin shook his head, red hair bouncing at the motion. Hawk giggled with that weightless sound, throwing away the stick on his hand they had used to play as if they were two princes in duel a few minutes earlier.

Robin stopped walking when Hawk put his hand over the wall, looking at it with conflict on his face.

“I heard the Teachers say my new Master will take me over seas” Hawk admitted. Robin didn´t understand the reason for such a long face. That only meant he would see the sea! Wasn´t that cool enough? However, the small kid kept listening. “They said he specifically requested me. But…” he punched the wall suddenly, making Robin jump in reflex “They said because I was problematic, I would be getting extra training in something called WRU”

Robin didn’t know what WRU was yet. They barely knew what was beyond the brick walls surrounding House, but it couldn’t be much worse than House, could it?

“I´m sorry. You always ended up on fights because of me…” Robin started clenching the stick on his hands tight as Hawk turned to him.

“C´mon. We´ve been over this, Birdie. It´s not your fault” he said, watching the small readhead lift his glassy eyes up “Besides, you know what to do now if they pick on you, right?”

“But I´m not as strong as you!” The boy argued before feeling the big hand of his brother ruffling his hair.

“Maybe just not yet” he said with that innate warmth of him. Like the times the other kids gathered around him late at night, hearing him talk about what one of the Teachers, one that was so close and nice to him, they had thought he would take Hawk home, had taught him after class. About all the different animals that existed, about science, about the world outside of the thick walls.

It dawned on him then, no kid would have those stories anymore, nor would he laugh first thing in the morning seeing the nest his hair was.

The child jumped to hug the older boy at the waist. “But, but, even if you go, you won’t forget us, right? If I graduate soon and our Masters meet, even if I´m already an adult, you will recognize me right?” Robin asked him, feeling the other boy’s fingers card through his short hair before squeezing him tight.

“I promise I won’t, Robin”

“I will keep the name you gave me” Robin said urgently, clenching hard so Hawk wouldn’t let go just yet. Hawk sighed quietly before burying his face on the boy’s shoulder.

“They’re ours”

“Ours alone” Robin finished.

The next day, Hawk’s new Master came for him in a black suburban with polarized windows and a few scary looking men by his side. Hawk bowed to him before the teacher ordered him to, as a perfect obedient Pet from House did before graduating. The other boys were lined up in their Sandy uniform, maybe in hopes the man would take another boy or girl, but he was completely entranced by Hawk’s face. He had lifted his chin to have a better look at it and then ruffled his hair with a big smile.

Then, the man gently buckled the new collar around Hawk´s neck, clipping the leather leash with the outmost gentleness. The man only tugged on it to test if the boy would walk forward, and when he did, he passed his hand through his hair.

Robin couldn’t hear it, but Hawk glowed at the praise his new Master gave him before giving the Teachers the ceremonial thick envelope. While the transaction happened, Hawk sneaked a look back at Robin and smiled.

“Bye, Robin” he mouthed, before feeling a pull from his neck that told him to follow his Master to the black van.

Right before the car trunk’s door closed, Robin waved goodbye with tears in his eyes the other kids didn’t stop teasing him about for weeks.

Four months after Hawk’s graduation, a few weeks after his twelfth birthday, Robin was standing in front of the building again. Now, it was his turn to graduate. His new Master was an older man that came out from a car you could smell the stench of gasoline from miles away.

“Skip the formalities. Where is it?” The man asked one of the Teachers standing next to him after the boy bowed. The woman in white clothes simply pushed him forward. Robin looked down at his shoes, so old looking against the shiny, cared for shoes of his would-be Master. The man wasn’t gentle when he fisted on the ginger’s head and forcefully lifted his face for him to see. He was better trained than to let out the pained groan bobbling up on his chest. The man hummed, pleased with his silence. “Yeah. You will do. How much for it?” The man said letting him go and quickly taking out the thick envelope from his jacket.

“I see you didn’t bring your own equipment for your new Pet, Sir. Would you want me to add the collar and leash to the sum?” The Teacher asked to the man, who grunted, too annoyed, like it was a waste of his time to ask.

“Yeah, sure, whatever” the man said without looking at Robin “It´s not for me anyways”

The small boy gripped on his uniform tight. The distress of not knowing how his real owner looked like suddenly settling in with fear when suddenly his not-Master asked the Teacher for a transport crate.

“Of course, sir. We will prepare him right away” the woman said with a wide grin as two other teachers pushed Robin to the garage. The boy´s heart leaped, but he gulped down the fear and allowed himself to get dragged. As he walked through the mocking and confused stares of the other children, he heard the woman continue to speak “If you would be so kind to accompany us to the office so we take the information needed for his shipping”

The man cursed under his breath, “Make it quick. Hearst is already pissed at me for messing up his pair”

Robin didn´t hear her reply.

The next thing the boy knew was that he had wrapped around his neck the price leather collar- the one the Teachers would only put on when they had earned a people´s meal from good results on training- with a large paper tag on it. He couldn´t know it said the name and address of his new Master, but he was static as he crawled into the plastic crate with the blue blanket on the corner he quickly wrapped around himself as he was rolled to the man´s stinky car. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would be able to catch a sight from the sea. Or maybe, from the sky above, if they went on a plane.

The car´s doors closed and he was drived out of House´s property, through the bricked fence and so, as his world, that had been confined to the same three square kilometers, suddenly grew infinitely big, filled with infinite things to see.

The man´s laughter on the driver´s seat abruptly stopped his awe.

“Enjoying the view, Pet?”

“Y-Yes, sir. Very much, thank you” Robin quickly replied.

“Well, you better burn the image to your memory, because with Hearst, you won´t be seeing anything but a kitchen and dirty restrooms” the man laughed.

“Yes, sir!” Robin said before looking out through the bars on his crate. To catch the green land and the sea expanding beyond. The man rasped his throat, muttering something under his breath.

Although he could hear him say “That´s why you wanted him young?” Robin didn´t understand and put his whole mind into catching every last detail he could get of outside.

Robin held to the image of the small houses with red ceilings surrounded by a vast blanket of green even as he was processed to go back on the cargo at the airport. They took him out of his crate to check the tag hanging from his collar and stick some papers into his uniform before pushing him back inside.

Two workers in blue jumpers, loaded him with the rest of the pets. There were some cute dogs Robin had never seen but in his coloring books and even some older Pets with the same tags hanging from their necks. All of them, including him, were wrapped around a fuzzy blanket inside their crates.

Robin was dissapointed when he found out there were no windows inside the cargo, but the feeling of being lifted off the ground, of flying, even if he slammed himself against the metal door of his cage, was completely worth it.

During the long ride, he wondered if Hawk had gone on an airplane too. What he would´ve said of that weightless feeling as he curled tighter into his blankets. The sound of paper getting scrunched was muffled with the engine and the other pets conversations between them, but Robin closed his eyes and hoped, prayed, his new Master´s family allowed him to see even once more, the world he had dreamed of seeing.

And if his wildest dreams as he was rolled off the plane, abruptly awake when his cage was thrown around and rolled by Not-Master outside where it snowed, he hoped he could see Hawk once more.

“That´s our new addition, Charles?” a man´s voice said as he stopped rolling. They seemed to be on the parking lot now. Next to a black shiny car.

“It was a nightmare, but told you I would get a replacement for Shirley. It even has red hair” The man said patting the plastic cage´s ceiling.

The man didn´t reply immediately, but Robin had crawled slightly closer to the door, to catch some of the man´s incredule face.

The man’s low, almost amused, laughter hit him like a soft salty breeze, warm and gentle. “Well, let´s see Isaac’s new partner, Let´s see what you got us” the man said before he knelt before Robin´s crate.

The wished he could say his Master had looked kind, gentle even, that first time they locked eyes. But in reality, Robin couldn’t help but think his new Master’s eyes were so much like a cat’s. A pair of narrow, clever honey colored eyes stared at his wide greens for a moment, before he copened the door and pulled him out with a swift pull on his arm. Robin´s face scrunched at his Master´s grip, cracking a smile on the man´s as he let go “How old are you, boy?” The man asked him.

He bowed instinctively before answering, “Twelve, Sir, Master”

“I see” The man´s smile hung on his face as he said “Not old enough to be on the front then” His new Master then turned to the man “Thanks for fetching me a new one. The kids are very sad without Shirley but the worst must be Isaac. He just refuses to work now”

The man grunted as he saw Hearst open the trunk of his car. “I already apologized, Will”

“What´s one more “I´m sorry, Mr. Hearst”? My slave hasn´t even eaten because of what you did to his partner” he said before turning back on Robin, expecting “Do I have to put you in myself, boy? C´mon, up you go” he said snapping his fingers in front of his face. Robin´s body moved before he was aware he had crawled inside, then laid down on his side as the man put his hand back on the door  “Watch your head” he said before closing it, letting Robin in complete darkness.

It took a moment of hearing only his breathing to for him to finally sense the car moving. He was with his Master now… but he was shaking like a leaf. He didn´t stopped shaking, knowing deep on his bones, this Master would be the severe type.

It wouldn´t take him long to know he was right.

[pagingevilspawn]

Would you please write a fic about alex behaviour with children like the way he comforts them or help them through?

heart of gold

hey there! i’m not gonna lie when i say that this prompt took me forever to figure out, but when i did i was super excited! 

this is mainly Alex centric with a bit of jolex added in (obviously). i hope you like it!

___

Of all people to notice Alex Karev’s strange ability to work well with children first, no one would’ve expected it to be Cristina Yang. 

It was fairly early in their intern year, and both she and Karev were on the pediatrics rotation with Dr. Keith, someone who they could both agree was an arrogant son of a bitch that thought way too highly of himself for his own good. 

They’d been trailing behind him like lost puppies all day, listening to him go on and on while he talked to the patient’s families, not even bothering to ask his interns any questions. He always thought that interns were a waste of time and space. He’s much rather have at least a third year resident on his service, but no such luck. They felt like crap and both wanted to kick the guy in the ass, but knew that the only thing that would do is get them knocked out of the program. 

Six hours into their shift, the two were about to head to the cafeteria for a much desired lunch break when their pagers rang out, loud groans escaping their mouths at the noise they had come to detest the last couple of weeks. 

All Alex really wanted was a slice of the hospital’s pizza. Granted, the crust tasted like cardboard, the cheese was old, and the sauce had no flavor, but he was craving it like crazy. He hadn’t gone out for groceries recently, so the only thing that was stocked in the shelves of his small apartment was cereal, some oatmeal, and off brand, nearly expired crackers that he had since he finished med school a couple of months ago. He had --for some unknown reason-- shoved them into a backpack that had made it with him as he traveled from Iowa to Washington, completely untouched. 

With a huff he turns on his heel and makes his way to the pit where he was being paged, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the nurse he disrespected on his first day, along with the ones he’d slept with and hadn’t called back. He had a pretty large list of nurses who didn’t like him, and he didn’t feel like making that list any longer. Not today, at least. 

Keith instructed him to go cast an arm for the seven year old in bed six, while Yang was told to go stitch up the cut on the little girl in bed two. 

When Alex was done he passed by Yang’s area, watching as she was trying to calm down the little girl who couldn’t be more than five. The girl had tears streaming down her face and was nuzzled into the mom’s chest. The mother was glaring at the female doctor, who was saying something Alex could make out as “it’s not even scary, it’s just a needle.” 

All he really wanted to do was get that damn pizza slice, and he had every intention of doing so, but seeing Yang be absolutely hopeless at getting anywhere with the little girl, he felt a bit of sympathy-- not for his fellow intern, but for the kid. 

With a sigh he strides over to the bed, watching as the raven head’s mouth opens to speak, cutting her off immediately. “Let me handle this.” he says, reaching to grab the needle from her head. 

Cristina glares at him, her expression turning into one of disgust. No way was she going to let Evil Spawn steal her patient, no matter how much she wished she’d be doing anything else. 

“Karev-”

“--Yang!” he cuts her off sharply, plucking the needle from her hand and bumping her out of the way. Not the nicest thing to do, but she was practically terrifying the little girl. There was no way she would trust the doctor now. 

His coworker scoffs, huffing a ‘fine’ before she goes to stand back and watch the scene, more than eager to watch the man fail. What good could he do? The girl was crying the second she had taken the disinfectant out. 

Alex pulls up a chair, grabbing the attention of the little girl, who looks up from her mother’s chest for a second, only to dive back in right after. 

“Hey kid, my name’s Doctor Karev. You mind telling me your’s?” he asks gently, slipping on a pair of gloves and flashing a signature crooked grin. 

The girl makes eye contact warily, slightly unlatching from her mom's tight hold at the sight of the man’s smile. The other doctor looked super serious, it was kind of scary. 

“Piper.” she answers, wiping the tears from under her eyes, the mom flashing him a grateful smile. 

“Hey Piper.” he grins. “I see you got hurt up there. What happened?” he wettens the pad with disinfectant, keeping his eyes on the little blonde, knowing it would mean less questions if she was focused on his face. 

“I was jumping on the couch and then I fell and hit the table.” she explains, Alex inspecting the cut to see if her story was reliable. He knew firsthand what it was like to come up with excuses for the bruises on your face, and wanted to make sure that she wasn’t just trying to cover up for something else that happened. 

Luckily, the combination of the authenticity of the bruise and the level of trust the daughter had in her mom let him know that she really did do what she said. He knew at some point he was gonna need to not assume the worst in every parent that came in with an injured kid, but the wound was still fresh for him, and it would take some time to heal-- a long time.

“Well then Piper, I’m gonna need to clean your cut, but it’s gonna sting a bit. Is that okay?” he asks her, her green eyes widening, but eventually nodding. The doctor seemed nice enough. 

He cleans the wound, turning back at the girl when he pulls out a needle, watching as her face begins to look panicked. “Hey, it’s okay.” he reassures her. His eyes dart around, noticing a backpack that sat in the corner, decorated with a multitude of princesses. 

“Who’s your favorite princess?” he asks her, drawing Piper’s attention away from the scary needle in his hands. 

“Belle.” she answers, a small smile making its way to her face. She loved talking about the princess’s and would chatter on about them anytime, any day, anywhere.  

Alex smirks, letting out a sigh of relief. He knew all about Belle, since it was Amber’s all time favorite Disney movie. He’d seen it more time than he’d like to admit, and practically had the whole film memorized since he was fourteen.

“I like Belle too. She’s super brave huh? Never afraid of the Beast or anything.” he gives her a smile, watching as Piper’s face lights up, a wide, toothless smile splayed on her lips. 

“Yeah! She’s so cool! She never lets the beast tell her what to do!” she exclaims, making Alex chuckle. She reminded Alex a lot of his little sister, with her dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and passion for princesses. 

“Okay, well, right now I’m gonna need you to be super brave like Belle alright? And sit really really still, like she does when she reads a book. Can you do that for me Piper?” he smirks mischievously. 

The little girl grins. She always wanted to be like her favorite princess, so she definitely wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to act like one. She already practiced around the house, so she was definitely going to practice in front of the nice doctor who looked like Prince Philip.  

Cristina stood frozenly in the background, mouth opened so wide it could catch flies. Who knew Karev was so good with kids? She sure as hell didn’t.  

She watches as he stitches up the cut, saying some reassuring words every time the girl flinches or squeezes her eyes shut. It was about twenty minutes later when he finished, Yang still standing there in shock. She sees him dress the wound, getting up from his chair and say, “All done. You did awesome Piper, but no more jumping on the couch, alright?” which earns him a nod. He flashes a friendly wink to the mom, who blushes as he walks away, forgetting entirely about Yang’s presence as he makes his way to the cafeteria to finally get his hands on the pizza slice he’s been drooling about for hours.

Maybe Evil Spawn wasn’t so evil after all. 

~*~

Miranda Bailey was exhausted. Between Tuck and trying to begin a pediatric fellowship, all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep for god knows long. Tucker being difficult about their shared custody schedule seemed to only add to her fatigue and she swore on her life that she could crash on the nearest gurney and not wake up for three days straight. 

It was with a heavy sigh she begrudgingly made her way back down to the NICU, remembering that she had left Karev there the day before after administering the kangaroo hold. She knew that by now he had probably dispersed, but she felt like checking on the little baby herself, just to make sure that the preemie was doing okay.

When she arrived at the NICU doors she could see a few faces that she recognized standing outside the window, talking in hushed conversations as they stared at the scene in front of them with imploring eyes, that is, until the one she knew as Reed rushed away-- a friend at her side, finishing their conversation quickly. 

Miranda shakes her head. Though she had softened over the years, everyone still feared the inner ‘Nazi’ that came out from time to time. When she finishes gowning herself she makes her way into the room, stopping in front of the shirtless, sleeping figure on a chair. Surprised was the only word she was able to come up with, though it seemed like an understatement of the century. Alex Karev was sitting there, with a sleeping baby curled contently against his chest, her tiny breaths in sync with the man who was holding her. 

She shakes her head, stopping a few feet from where the man sat. “Karev?” she says, making him open his groggy eyes, blinking as he does so to look around for the source of the noise, relaxing when he knows that no monitors are going off and the baby on his chest is still very much alive. 

“Did you stay here all night?” she asks softly, watching as he looks out the window to see that it was in fact daytime, not evening like it was before he’d fallen asleep.

He takes another look at the baby in his arms, “Um, yeah. I… I guess I did.” he trails off, his voice rough since he barely was awake.  

“Go home, get some rest. The nurse will take over for you.” Miranda scolds. These interns (who were now residents) were like her children, her babies, and as much as the sight warmed her heart, she needed her babies to be well rested. She couldn’t have them falling asleep in the middle of surgery. 

He unintentionally pulls the tiny bundle of pink a bit closer, “No. Uh, I- I’m okay. I’m… good here.” 

She lets out a small, barely there laugh, but not at him. She’d seen the soft side of Alex Karev, but it was few and far between. Everyone knew that the rough exterior he put up was just to stop himself from getting hurt, but this… this side was new. She had never seen him more vulnerable than he was right now, the baby sleeping so soundly on his chest that it seemed like no amount of noise could disturb her. 

“Well, you'd be good in Peds, you know that?” she flicks her gaze from him to the baby. “You get invested. You have good instincts. You stick to your instincts,” she continues, Alex looking down at the child, making some kind of face she wouldn’t know how to describe. 

“You’d be good in Peds, Karev.” she walks away, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts. 

Maybe, just maybe, kids would be the one thing that would allow Karev to show everyone who he really was. 

~*~         

Alex Karev had sort of snuck up on Arizona Robbins. When he said that he was interested in Peds, she truly thought that he was joking, just trying to say something to either get a laugh out of her or annoy her. 

She didn’t know much about Karev, all she really knew was what she had heard from the nurses gossiping loudly at their stations, and the occasional input from Callie here and there. All she really knew was that he had been married to Stevens, who had cancer, then they later got divorced, and before he was married he had earned himself quite a bit of a ‘man-whore’ reputation, nearly as bad as Mark’s. 

Arizona was weary about Karev, so imagine her surprise when she saw his face light up as a kid called him Doctor Alex for the first time. 

The first time she’d ever had the young man on her service she knew that he was cold, arrogant, and a bit too cocky for his own good. He was overall an asshole, and to say Robbins wasn’t happy to have him on her service was an understatement. Bailey had said something to her recently about Karev, but that didn’t lessen her lack of enjoyment about his upcoming arrival on her floor. 

When the man did arrive, he was seven minutes late for rounds, dumping an empty cup of hospital bought coffee in the nearest trash can. He flashed her a crooked grin, apologizing for his tardiness, but not explaining why.

Arizona sighed, rolling her eyes discreetly. She wasn’t normally a strict teacher, but one thing she didn’t like was when her residents were late. The lives of tiny humans were in their hands, no second could be wasted-- much less seven minutes.

“Welcome to peds Doctor Karev…” She starts off, telling him about how pediatrics wasn’t wiping kid’s noses and cuddly bunnies all day long. Peds was hardcore, only for the elite. 

She stops outside room 414, turning back to Karev and giving him as stern of a glare as she could muster. “Remember Karev, smile, engage. These are kids we’re talking about here.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. He knew he wasn’t the nicest guy. He was an ass, a douche, and definitely not the man most women would be proud to take home to their parents. But if there was one thing he did know, it was kids. He practically raised one for god’s sake.  

“Got it Robbins.” he huffs, fixing his posture as the two walk into the room, where a little boy sat on his bed, playing with his colorful toys that sat on his lap, anxious parents sitting in chairs beside him. 

Arizona flashes a grin to the family, directing her attention back to the boy. “Hi Nico, how are we doing today?” 

Nico shrugs, mustering a half-hearted smile. “I’m okay.” he answers, more focused on his toys than the doctors in the room.

“Well that’s good,” she jots something down on her chart. “This is Dr. Alex. He’s gonna be another one of your doctors, okay Nico?” 

“Doctor Alex?” the boy confirms, making Arizona look up from her chart and Alex look back at the boy. 

She saw it then. The way his eyes lit up at the name, how a crooked grin unconsciously made its way to his lips. He had it. The peds glow. 

“Hey dude.” Alex smirks, trying to hide is bubbling excitement. He liked that name, ‘Doctor Alex’. It was different from Karev. It was lighter, easier, it sounded right. Doctor Karev was too… but Doctor Alex? Doctor Alex sounded pretty great. 

Arizona bites her lip as she watches her resident and the patient interact, trying to keep her smile at bay. 

There it is. There’s the real Alex Karev. 

~*~ 

Jo Wilson sat in the intern’s locker room, knotting up the ties of her scrub pants as she listened to the chief resident rattle of names of who the intern’s were with that day. She was more than thankful for a new service, since Medusa was downright terrifying, but she was really hoping that she wouldn’t be assigned to-

“--Wilson you’re with Doctor Karev on Peds.”

Shit. 

She was sure Karev was a great doctor, I mean, he wouldn’t be here-- at one of the best hospitals in the world-- if he sucked. 

But she’d already heard enough about Karev to say that she didn’t like him, not one bit. So far she’d witnessed Leah crying into her locker about why he wouldn’t answer her calls, nurses complain to each other about why he hadn’t texted, and other interns chattering at bars about why he acted like he didn’t know them when they saw each other again.

In conclusion, he was a grade-A jackass who slept with any female that had two legs, and she was certainly not going to be the next one on his (extensive) list of conquests. No sir-ee. 

With a huff she ties her hair back, giving Stephanie a deadpan look after she whispers a “Good luck. Make sure not to sleep with him.” 

There was no way she would be sleeping with Karev, not in a million years. She had heard so much from others that she could already paint a picture-

Ew, no. That’s gross. 

Either way, there was nothing he could ever say to make her fall in bed with him. Nothing at all. 

…

She was exhausted. Karev was an ass. An ass who didn’t hate her, but was still an insufferable asshole. Jo stood at the nurses station, leaning over the counter as she filled out her charts, scribbling down her notes angrily. He made her angry. 

Though she had to admit, seeing him all freaked out over her (fake) crying was pretty hilarious. 

“--Wilson!” she hears her name being called by her asshole of a superior. She turns around, plastering such a faux smile on her face that she felt nauseated just knowing that it was there. 

She’s about to respond when Doctor Grey comes running up to him, shoving a toddler in his arms, taking him by surprise. 

“Alex. I need you to watch her.” the blonde pleads, making him scrunch his eyebrows. 

“Mer I-” 

“Please.” Meredith begs, Alex giving her a crooked grin as he takes ahold of his niece. If there was one thing that could make Alex Karev smile without even trying, it was Zola Grey Shepherd, a two and a half year old little fireball.  

A large grin comes across the little girl’s face as she looks at the man in front of her. “Unca Lex!” she exclaims, clasping her tiny hand on the side of his face. 

“Hi Ms. Zozo,” he smiles, Jo not even noticing how the corner’s of her mouth quirked up at the sight. This was not the Doctor Karev she’d been with these past few hours, this was someone completely new. This was… Alex? 

Meredith sighs. “I have on OB appointment, and normally we’d take her, but she’s just been so fussy lately, and when I tried to take her to daycare she threw a fit-”

Alex cuts her off, “Mer, it's fine. I got her.” he reassures her, pretending to bite the little girl’s finger as it came close to his face, causing her to let out a loud squeal. 

“Okay but-”

He rolls his eyes at the blonde, “Mer, go. She’ll be completely fine.” he smirks. “We all know that she likes me better than you and Shep combined so…” 

Meredith hits him on the shoulder before she turns and waddles down the hall, leaving Alex with a toddler in his arms that was giggling as he tickled her, and an intern who wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing in front of her. 

It was obvious that he had some skills with children, he was a pediatric surgeon for crying out loud. But nobody told her he was this good with kids.She watched as a large smile came across his face, a laugh escaping his mouth at Zola’s squeals and giggles. 

Maybe Alex Karev wasn’t as much of an asshole that she thought he was. 

~*~ 

Nothing was more perfect to him than the sight in front of him. 

Never in a million years did he ever think that he would get to where he was now. 

Alex sat next to his wife as they stared down at the little baby on her chest, her pink cheeks puffed up while her eyes were tightly squeezed closed as she tried to sleep. She was so perfect. So, so perfect.  

A daughter. 

He had a daughter. 

A little bundle of pink that weighed a whole six pounds, seven ounces. Yet somehow, she had managed to take his heart out of his chest and hold it in her tiny, tiny palm. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for how much he already loved his little girl. He’d heard about it, read about it. He’d been in the room when parents met their child for the first time. But this? This was a whole new level of love, something he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. 

He watched as Jo ran her thumb delicately over the baby girl’s cheeks, tears streaming down Jo’s face. It had been all of two minutes since they welcomed their daughter into the world and she hadn’t stopped crying since. 

Although he wasn’t crying, his throat was built up as he stared at his perfect little girl. A full head of wavy light brown hair sat on top of her head, her rosy lips pouted as she nestled closer to her mother’s chest. 

Perfect. 

That’s the only word that could describe the tiny figure that laid before him.

He rubs his pinky finger over her little fist, watching as it unfolds and grabs it with all of her strength. 

He can feel his heart physically clench, never before had something felt as right as feeling his little girl’s palm around his finger. 

Alex grins, placing a small kiss on the top of Jo’s head, a silent way of saying so many different things at once. 

Thank you. 

You did so well. 

You’re so strong. 

She’s so perfect. 

I love you.

Thank you for marrying me.

Thank you for loving me. 

Thank you for everything.  

Thank you.

Jo readjusts the baby on her chest, bringing her up higher for them to see. 

She lets out a watery smile, her bottom lips trembling as she stares at the tiny girl that she would do anything for. “Hi sweet girl.” she whispers, not even bothering to wipe the water droplets that cascaded down her cheeks. 

Alex lets out a crooked grin, a small laugh escaping his throat in disbelief. This perfect creation was his daughter. How was that even possible?  

“Welcome to the world Lorelei Karev.” he whispers, unable to focus on anything except the tiny girl that he would give up the sun, the moon, and the stars for. 

“We love you so much.” Jo speaks softly, looking up at her husband, the love of her life, her eyes saying more than her mouth ever could. 

Thank you. 

I love you. 

She’s so perfect. 

Thank you for her. 

Thank you for everything. 

Thank you for loving me. 

Thank you.  

They share a small kiss, reveling in the moment they knew they would remember for the rest of their lives. 

It was then he defied all odds. Overcame all of his fears. He wasn’t going to be like his dad, what everyone told him he was going to be. He was going to be an amazing dad, and he knew it.

As it turns out, kids truly were the one thing that could show everyone who the real Alex Karev was after all.

[littlerockerao3]

I love your writing could you do 134 for throbb ❤️

Thank you so much anon❤️ here it is!

134. “Are you scared… then why won’t you look at the screen?”

Disclaimer: this should be set in 1983 but I doubt it’s clear lol (aka the only 1980s thing in this is Theon wearing a checked shirt and a denim jacket)

~~~

The only reason why Robb jumps on his chair is because of the incredibly loud yell all the people in the theater scream at the same time, it’s not really the scary scene on the screen: he’s used to seeing such scenes in movies by now, Theon keeps bringing him to see every new horror movie and Robb’s fine with that, he likes these kinds of movies, and he likes spending time with Robb. Sure, it’s not like they can make out like the majority of the couples in the theater, as much as both of them would like to, but there’ll be time for that when they reach Theon’s place. But overall, Robb enjoys horror movies: they give him that bit of adrenaline he needs every once in a while. The hilarious thing, however, is that even though Theon’s always the one suggesting to go to the movies, he’s actually the one who’s scared of them.

“Fucking shit” he curses in fact. Robb chuckles: he’s taken his denim jacket off the moment he sat down on the red chair and adjusted it on his lap, but he keeps hiding his face inside its hood it at every jump scare.

“Are you scared?” Robb asks him, unable to take the smile off his face.

“…no” it takes Theon longer than normal to answer, and Robb would like to laugh even louder, if that wouldn’t lead to Theon refusing to let him staying at his place for the night, as punishment for embarrassing him in such way. But it’s impossible not to.

“Then why won’t you look at the screen?”

The one Theon takes is a mixture between a snort and a sigh, “I’m just looking for something in my jacket”.

“Inside the hood?”

Theon sighs once more, “Shut up”.

Robb shakes his head, still smiling, grabs some popcorns from his bowl and rests his other arm on the armrest in the middle of them that connects their chairs.

“I’m going to leave my arm, and my hand, here” he says, “no one’s gonna notice if you squeeze it when you’re scared, they’ll be too busy jumping and screaming” he says.

Theon shakes his head: if there’s someone who’s more scared than Robb that people could find out they’re a thing, that one is Theon. It’s not like anybody here in town likes him in general, first cause he’s from Pyke and everyone in Winterfell hates people from Pyke, that’s just some kind of “rule” only Robb dared to break. And second, cause Theon kind of has a reputation, a bad reputation. People already call him a punk, he doesn’t need to be criticized for his sexuality too. And Robb has his own reasons too to keep it a secret.

It’s just their own, private little thing, and it’s not like they don’t have time to be together, cause they do. And although Robb wishes he could tell the world, Winterfell is just not the right place.

He still smiles at how, after all, Theon still grips the sleeve of Robb’s red and white high school jersey at some point, and keeps his fist holding onto it for all that’s left of the movie.

Once the end credits appear and people start getting up from their chairs, still yelling about how scared they got, Theon immediately lets go of Robb.

“Shall we go?” He says, and Robb has to bite his lip not to laugh cause Theon just looks so pale right now.

“That scared you, didn’t it?” Robb teases him as they’re heading out. He’s eating some of the popcorn left in his bowl, that’s still half full, while Theon had eaten all his before the end of the first half of the movie.

Theon huffs, “It didn’t”.

“It so did”.

Theon’s about to open his mouth, probably to tell him to shut up, but the sight of something makes him jump til he’s basically hiding behind Robb’s back and use him as a shield against, now Robb can see what has scared him so much, a little kid. A little kid who’s minding her own business with her parents, she’s just eating her popcorns, making some fall every time she tries to pick up some.

Robb rolls his eyes, “Theon”.

“She looked exactly as the little kid in the freaking movie!” Theon exclaims, adjusting his denim jacket and checked shirt, trying to spread his shoulders as much as he can in order to look tougher.

“She didn’t, like, at all” Robb points out, cause he likes to see Theon blush. The black haired guy does blush, and energetically pushes Robb with his shoulder. They’re both chuckling at each other when some guy, he looks more like Theon’s age than Robb’s, he has never seen him at school, approaches Theon and raises his hand for a high five.

“Hey men, where you headed?”

“To the fun fair, then hopefully to the parking lot behind it with some chick” Theon says. The guy stares at Robb, as if he doesn’t consider him the kind of guy who does such things. He’s right, cause Robb doesn’t do such things. Theon does. Did. He did. Now he doesn’t. Now all his sexual activities include his own bed and a red haired dude who’s definitely not a chick. Robb kinda wishes he could tell this to this guy.

“Have fun for both of us then” the guys says, smacks a hand on Theon’s shoulder then goes back to his friends, who are drinking beer while leaning onto a pick-up truck.

They stay silent until they reach Theon’s car, and they stay silent until there’s no one but them in the road, no one but Theon’s car, some Black Sabbath tape all around us, flashing light illuminating the deserted street in front of them. That is the moment when Theon extends his hand to grab Robb’s, bring it to his mouth and press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“You know I love you, right?” He says. Robb nods slowly, gulping silently. Of course he knows Theon loves him, though it’s always such a surprise to hear him say such words: he doesn’t like to be so explicit, Robb has noticed this a while ago. Theon likes to show his feelings through little things, like that one time when they had rented Grease and Robb pointed out how good looking John Travolta was and Theon had agreed, only to point out that, still, Robb’s eyes were bluer than his. He then proceeded to talk about how hot Olivia Newton-John was too, but that had been enough for a warm fuzzy feeling to spread all over Robb’s stomach.

“I feel like times are changing” Theon says, still not letting go of Robb’s hand.

“One day we’ll be brave enough to tell the world” he goes on.

Yeah. Maybe one day. Hopefully, one day. Hopefully soon.

“As brave as you’ve been tonight watching Sleepaway Camp?” Robb teases, cause he can’t help it: he doesn’t like when things get too serious about how they’re hiding themselves, not when they’re actually alone and can do what others can’t see them doing. So maybe laughing a little is better than thinking too much.

Theon’s chuckle sounds more like a snort than an actual chuckle, but this time he doesn’t deny it: “I was scared shitless, okay? You better hug me tonight, or I’ll have nightmares”.

“Oh no, if you’ll have nightmares Freddy Krueger will come and kill you” Robb’s one hundred per cent sure that if Theon wasn’t driving he would have slapped the back of his head, hard.

“You are the worst boyfriend in the world” Theon says, shaking his head.

Robb is smiling, “I love you too honey”, he says.

There’s so many butterflies flying in his stomach he wonders how come he still hasn’t spit a few of them out of his mouth.

He squeezes Theon’s hand, and he squeezes back. They can see Theon’s place now, it’s such a relief that he lives alone: once they’re inside, they can be themselves. They can hug each other, kiss each other, love each other, without anyone knowing.

One day, everyone will know and Robb and Theon won’t mind. One day. For now, it’s enough to just hold each other under the covers.

[rattlethereads]

Poppy

The morning of the day you left, I awoke to a wet face, and a deep sadness I could not control or contain. It was raw, and intense and knowing, and scary. And knowing, even know I did not know for what at the time. I should have, I should have known. There has never been a time in my life, where I woke up crying, genuinely bawling; huge tears already spilling over my cheeks. The pillow soaked from the tears that escaped while I slept. I woke up next to my girlfriend, and she did not hesitate, she turned right over, and held me while she kissed my forehead and told me it was okay and to let it out baby, let it out. And so, against her warmth and held tightly in her loving arms, I did. I let the river rage and the sobs be heard until I could get myself up and out of the bed to get ready for work. I felt something, deep down I knew what was going on, why I was crying. Your condition was never sugar coated for me, and I knew which path your journey was taking. But I guess while I slept, my subconscious did for me that I couldn't do, it started to deal with it in sleep and peace to accept that this was happening and I would have to deal with it one way or another. The universe was just trying to prepare me a little early. There was nothing anyone could do; it was just a matter of when. I still tried, I got out of the bed and got ready for work, all while the tears created a steady stream down my face. That morning was a blur, I drove to work in a daze and was not present in reality. I got to work and could not do it, I told them I would not be able to make it through that shift. There was such an emptiness in my soul I could not bear to be in public putting on a brave face. So I went home, with you on my mind the whole way home. I was talking to mom that day, off and on, and discussing the visiting hours of the hospice you had been taken to the night before. She was vague on the details, that was my first sign. She was avoiding answering when the visiting hours were and saying that we can leave from your house, all together. And then Rob texted me, saying that everyone was at your place, and that I should come to. Again, I should have known. I did know. So, I got there, Mimi, Ninnin, Mom and Rob were in the living room, the kids were not there yet. I should have known. The energy in the room was telling, and no one made eye contact with me until I asked when we were leaving, or if there was a plan- that is a detail that I am a little fuzzy on, I think it's the only detail I am fuzzy on. And then they looked at me, and mom was next to me and I knew as soon as I looked at her, it was in her eyes. They said everything I needed to know, to confirm. "He didn't make it? Did he?" I asked. She shook her head and the tears formed in her eyes. I did not cry, I did not show any emotion really, I just kind of shut down and went into autopilot, Rob asked me a favorite memory of you; and, I remember being irritated at the question, and that he even asked me that. I did not want to play that game, I did not want to set it stone that you were actually gone, so I did not answer him. I completely shut everything out. And went numb. I do not remember when I asked, if it was later that day, or a couple of days after the fact, but I asked how you went. Peacefully from what they believe. Mimi was with you, just life you wanted. And she was holding your hand in the end. You just wanted it to be her and you, and that is what you got. She was with you all night and when she noticed your breathing changed, she got up, walked over to you and grasped your hand, and then you went.

This had no intention to be anything other than an outlet. A free flow freestyle writing, I did not want this to be stuck to a certain flow or rhythm. I just wanted to write what was coming to me on this topic. This will most likely be a recurring topic in my writing. As its raw and present and I am still working through it.

As awlays,

stay higher dreamers

[derireo]

feeling restless / all troupes

Request:  Heya!! Can I have some headcanons of all of the Mankai Troupes having a movie night?

Heya!! Yes you can! Also, I'm really bad at focusing on characterisation/character studies so I'm actually really sorry if these headcanons aren't really accurate with a character's personality or smth;; these are just things I think would happen hkhhh. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

「 Not posting this on AO3 」 「 2.3k words 」

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡　　( ´ ∀ ` )  　ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

"I'm bored already." Itaru whispered into your ear as everyone in the Spring Troupe gathered in the living room. The movie that the younger members chose was something that Itaru had either already watched or wasn't interested in watching, so he was seated beside you on the sofa with his phone in hand, the screen glaring at him as he opened up a game. You shrugged your shoulders, saying that you couldn't do much else for him other than offer the snacks that were on the table or a soda from the fridge. The office worker shook his head with a tired sigh, and instead leaned into your side with his head resting on your shoulder, a pillow resting between you to cushion the the position.

Masumi was sleeping on the other side of you, not exactly interested as well. He didn't really care which movie the others wanted to watch so he decided not to give an input and instead stole the empty spot by your side by Citron could. His arms cradled one of yours to his chest as he slept peacefully, his cheek pressed into your shoulder as he dozed off dreaming about something happy. He would murmur every once in a while during the movie, but everyone would just ignore it. Both Itaru and Masumi take up most of your attention during the movie, and you're stuck on the sofa until it ends because they wouldn't let you go to get more snacks or refreshments.

Sakuya and Citron would be the most responsive to the movie playing on the TV in the living room, their voices booming whenever they shouted in surprise or happiness. Citron would occasionally recite a few lines during the movie, but he would end up saying the wrong words every time. He thought the lines sounded cool, but his execution was a little weak, but Sakuya wouldn't mind because the foreign member would be acting so cool anyways. This pair would also be the two eating the most snacks, with Citron sometimes feeding Itaru something if he asked. They're the most hype out of the members to watch the movie, but they're also the ones who find themselves passed out after their high.

Tsuzuru watches the movie for reference. As always. He focuses on the movie so much that Sakuya and Citron actually go ignored. He writes in a notepad or sometimes types on his laptop, really depends. His eyes are squinting so hard at two screens and he squints even harder at the notebook in his lap because it's so dark in the living room. He barely even eats because this is just like when he's writing an actual play. His inspiration and motivation is just flowing whenever they play a movie for the troupes, and he wants to grab those ideas for their new play so that they can give off something new. Sakuya reminds him to drink water or to eat a little snack so that he doesn't tire when taking notes of the movie.

"Why are we watching this again?" Tenma cried out as splattered blood ran across the screen. Everyone, for some reason, decided to watch a horror movie much to Tenma's dismay. The thing is, Yuki goaded him into also choosing the horror movie, and that's why the high schooler was now curled up against your side in absolute fear. He hid his face into your shoulder whenever something scary popped up on the screen, and you winced whenever he let out a squeal of terror because he'd be shouting it right into your ear. He'd be so scared that he'd forget that there was anyone else around you two, and he'd only focus on hiding behind your frame. He acted brave at first, no lie, as the intro was quite normal, but when he heard that eerie groan in the next minute, there were chills running down his spine.

Yuki is somewhat enjoying it. He doesn't mind horror things, and likes the thrill. Sure, he jumps here and there and avoids the more scary and unnerving parts by focusing on eating the snacks on the table. He's quiet for most of the movie unless Tenma is being loud for no reason, and probably throws in a jab of his elbow into his knee here and there just to get him to shut up. He munches on buttery popcorn most of the time and lets Muku have the sweet snacks. He checks on you every now and then to see if you're faring alright yourself since both Tenma and Muku are plastered to you like a bandaid on a really annoying wound. Overall, Yuki wouldn't mind having another movie night with the troupe, just as long as Tenma is less aggravating next time.

Muku is also terrified and acts just like Tenma, but more mild and quiet. His flinching is very violent though, and he jostles you around quite a bit whenever something he doesn't like pops up on the screen. He'll hide behind your shoulder during scenes that unnerve him, but always peeks because he's so curious. There are times where his shouts are on the same level as Tenma, but it's... cuter. Tenma's shrieks are sometimes unbearable?? Muku makes you want to hide him from whatever is making him scream. He eats the candies to distract himself, and feeds you as well if you ask nicely. He grips onto your arm very tightly throughout the whole movie and he starts to sweat a lot, so you tell him to drink water. And at the worst time possible, when he's re-hydrating, a jump scare pops up and all of a sudden there's water all over everybody on the couch.

Kazunari is having the time of his life with Misumi, because as much as the movie is terrifying, they can't help but scream out of joy because the movie is just so fun! Misumi, being very flexible with his voice, actually mimics some of the scary sounds and voices that make an appearance throughout the movie. The only thing that makes it less scary is that he only says triangle and nothing else, but perfectly mimics the voice/sound. Kazunari teases Tenma a little from the floor, but gets bored of it when Tenma is too busy hiding behind your shoulder to even care. Both Kazunari and Misumi laugh with each other about the silly moments in the movie, but even Kazunari gets flustered by a few of the loud audio cues!

"Shit. That is totally dope." Banri is actually on the edge of his seat on the sofa when the movie is playing. Everyone decided to watch an action movie since that's what most of their plays revolved around, and it was probably the best option anyways. No one really wanted to watch a romcom or a comedy itself at this time of night. Out of the whole Autumn Troupe, he was probably one of the most restless besides Taichi. The action sequences were just so exciting and exhilarating that it made him want to jump up and throw a few punches in the air (or at Juza. whichever one he reached first). He'd whistle under his breath or hold a fist up to his mouth in shock at all of the cool stunts; especially the awesome choreography with the guns. Despite all of that though, he'd probably be the one destroying that bowl of popcorn.

Although Sakyo was really against watching a movie so late at night, his frosty glare melted when you pouted and gently asked him a third time if you all could watch just one film and then go to bed. He was sitting on the sofa with you alongside Omi and Banri, but kept to himself for most of the movie because he was a little busy worrying about the electricity bill. He also tried his best not to sit too close to you otherwise his would be even more preoccupied with unnecessary stuff, and he really just wished you all would go to bed. He hisses at the others when they get too rowdy during the film, and gets up from the sofa every now and then to drink a glass of water or to take a break from staring at the movie screen for so long. The only reason he doesn't leave until the end is to ensure that everyone makes it to bed in the end; especially you.

Juza's the most quiet one! The thing is, he goes through all of the sweet snacks not even a quarter way through the movie, and has made Omi go back into the kitchen multiple times just because his stomach still hasn't gotten its fill. He is totally enraptured by the film though, seeing how movies work their magic on fight scenes has always been a wonder to him, and they're much more cleaner on the fights than real ones are. Real fights are much more messy and uncoordinated, more rugged and fierce, and while movies can get the fierce part, they make it seem like it's way too easy to just up and roundhouse kick someone in the temple. He doesn't interact with anyone else during the movie other than the occasional lean back against your legs because he was slouching for too long, but he also offers you and Taichi some candies when he remembers to share.

Taichi is just as energetic as Banri during the movie and tries to re-enact some of the gnarly moves in the movie. He actually has the courage to start play fighting with Banri who actually tries to throw him across the room, only to be stopped by a gently chiding Omi who is smiling in amusement. Taichi shouts here and there and kicks the air a few times when his energy gets the best of him, and Omi's just there to make sure he doesn't break anything or hit Juza in the head. Omi's sitting on the other side of you on the couch, but is usually getting up to refill the snacks because the high school students are like vacuums.  He dotes on you every now and then as well just to check if you're getting tired or hungry, and also helps Sakyo out in ushering the kids back into their rooms.

"Mm.. I'm tired." Hisoka murmurs and rests his head in your lap. He takes up most of the space on the sofa which actually forces Tasuku, Tsumugi, and Homare to sit on the floor while Azuma is on your other side. The Winter Troupe decided to have a movie night because Tsumugi had actually recommended a new film that none of the members or you have watched before. Hisoka wasn't particularly excited about joining everyone in watching, but decided to tag along when you offered your lap and told him that he just needed to join to make it feel like a true Winter Troupe bonding. He fell asleep right as the movie started, his legs dangling over the arm over the sofa while his head was cushioned by your thighs. The thing is, out of habit, Homare would feed him marshmallows every now and then so Hisoka would jolt a few times to catch the fluffy snack; effectively distracting you from a few movie scenes.

Tasuku was probably the most keen on watching a drama. It didn't matter whether it was in a fantasy world or a historic one, as long as there was drama. He was probably the one who chose the film too since he does his research on movie casts and follows the reviews as well. He wouldn't admit it either, but he's also the one who is the most excited to take part in movie night since you all agreed to the film he suggested and promised everyone that it wouldn't disappoint. His eyes would be intense as the scenes rolled, and he wouldn't talk much other than the occasional whisper to you or Tsumugi. He'd probably drink tons of water too because a lot of the more dramatic and heart racing scenes leave his mouth dry. He takes note of the actors and how they deliver their lines; watches how the most minuscule of changes in expression can either immerse the viewer or make them lose interest with the wrong move.

Tsumugi and Homare might be the most talkative of the group during this time. They pass each other comments about the film as time goes on, whispering to each other their thoughts while Tasuku butted in every now and then to give his own opinion. Homare would find it easy to gain inspiration from the dramatic scenes and would write down whatever words came to him into his small notebook to make sure he wouldn't forget the next day. Tsumugi would ask a lot of questions during the film, just wondering about what was going on or why this person was doing this and that etc. Homare would probably be quite the critique as well if he didn't like how a character was portrayed or didn't like how a scene was done, much to Tasuku's annoyance. Otherwise, Tsumugi and Homare would murmur between themselves in amusement.

I don't know if Azuma would be paying attention to the film, but he was didn't turn down the offer to join the rest of the troupe. One late night wouldn't hurt him, would it? He would just have to apply a bit more cream and serums before going to bed. He would also be drinking quite a lot during the film just to pass the time since he didn't seem too particularly interested in watching. Even better, he would even pour you a cup which is something that doesn't happen often. You two would share the same cup actually, since Azuma would be too lazy to get up and get another one, so you two would go back and forth. He'd give you the occasional whisper, asking if you're getting tired or would like to stop drinking with him. He is probably the one who manages to usher everyone back to their respective rooms at the end of the night, but offers you to come into his room to apply some beauty products before going to bed.

[headoverjojo]

I hope it counts among the AUs, can I order a scenario of the witch AU with Leone? He is found and rescued by a young witch when he was a child and he never wanted to leave her. They both grow up together, but they don't trust each other because they know that at some point the witch will stop growing and will be immortal. Until finally it happens and things get awkward between them, to finally end up together?

Hello there, darling! That was such a good prompt!! Thank you for sending it :3 and sooo, here we go, then! I hope you’ll like it :3

Witch AU: Leone Abbacchio is rescued by a young witch as a child and they grow up together

(Under the cut for length!)

Do not enter the ancient forest, old people said, or the Witch who lives in the black tree will eat your heart. It was a scary story that Leone had heard since he was a little child, basically a toddler. Do not play in the forest, and don’t hunt there when night falls. Ancient forests like that were full of traps and secrets that should stay unrevealed; it wasn’t a place for children.

Leone was from a family of knights, people who protected cities and villages from every kind of danger, being this human or supernatural. And Leone wasn’t weak, nor he was afraid: he wanted to protect who needed him, no matter how dangerous it was.

And so, the child, no more than ten years old, put his father’s helmet on and grabbed his short dagger that, in his tiny hand, was as big as a sword. He was tired of hearing about the dangerous and scaring witch who infested the forest and prevented everyone from going there: he would have slain the dark witch, being a valorous knight like his father.

He sneaked in the forest at night time, covered in a dark cloak. As soon as he stepped into the forest, all the sounds from outside seemed to be muffled. Leone could hear just his breath and his heart fastly pounding in his chest. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t scared… he was a brave boy, sure he was!

He frowned, as the grip on the dagger grew stronger. He had a mission to do. He started to walk, paying attention to the big roots and the dangerous forest floor. The night moisture had soaked the fallen leaves, making them all wet and slippery; it was easy to fall down and break an arm or a leg. His nerves jolted every time he heard a strange noise: a sudden crack of branches, a sound that seemed a heavy step, the rustle of leaves, the cold wind that ruffled the foliage… animal sounds too. Sometimes they were far, but, sometimes, they were too close for his likening; fear was starting to root in his heart.

Unfortunately, that deep fear made him be careless: his foot got stuck in a root, and he stumbled forward. He rolled down a small hill, landing on his back, all aching and without breath. Everything hurt: his head, his arm… but, especially, his foot. He tried to move it, but whined, in pain. It seemed broken…

Suddenly, a lantern light blinded him, for a second. He saw a silhouette, and the person was wearing a pointy hat… Leone felt his blood curling. That was the witch… that was the dark witch of the forest! He had found her! Well, the witch had found him, but it was a detail. Now, it was the right time to slain her!

“Uh? Who are you?” Leone didn’t even hear the witch’s words, as he was busy trying to get up and lifting the heavy dagger. It was more difficult, now that his arm wasn’t at its prime…

“Stay back, witch! I am… I am here to end your life! And to free the village!” he screamed, lifting with difficulty the heavy dagger. He tried to hit the evil witch, but he missed, as the witch had had all the time to avoid it.

“Mom, come here! I’ve found a boy!” Leone frowned, incredulous: mom?! So that meant that…

The lantern’s light dimmed, and he could finally see the witch’s face. It was a little girl, no older than him, and she was looking at him with curiosity and wariness. Leone’s jaw dropped: so that was the witch that scared the villagers?! A kid like him?!

“A boy, sweety? Oh dear, it seems like he got lost…” Leone put the dagger in a defensive stance, as he had seen his father doing so many times, when he heard a second voice approaching. Soon after, another witch, a woman, emerged from the bushes, looking at him with curiosity. It was obvious that she was the little witch’s mother.

“I’m not lost! I’m here to slain you!” the witch huffed a little laugh, shaking her head and approaching him. Leone tried to draw back, but his feet, that traitor, gave up on him. He fell on the ground, grunting in pain. Not now, not now!!

“Oh, you’re wounded! It’s all ok, we’re going to heal you, ok? Here, let me pick you up…” the woman gently blocked the dagger, picking it from his hands and giving it to her daughter; then, she picked him up, quietly ignoring his threats, and carried him with her; her little daughter was trotting behind her. Soon, Leone fell silent, as fear made its way in his heart: he had failed… the witches had imprisoned him. What would have they done to him? Maybe they would have tortured him, or made experiments on him or… or whatever a witch did. What did witches do, usually, in any case?

“Here, we’re home. Now we’ll check that foot, hm?” Leone tried again to wiggle out of the woman’s grip, but she was way stronger than him; he grumbled all the time, while she was laying him in a comfy bed and then checking his foot. He glowered at her, trying to see what she was doing; maybe cutting his foot off and roast it for dinner? Or…

He sighed, feeling a soothing coolness on the aching ankle. It was so nice… and the smell in that house, it was… one of some kind of herb, and flowers, and hot soup… it was comforting. Almost… homey.

“Are you hungry, dear? There’s mushroom soup for dinner.” the woman said, getting up and leaving her daughter at Leone’s side. Leone whispered a “yes, please”, and then stared at the little girl, who was already shamelessly looking intently at him. It was kinda unnerving… and he felt like he couldn’t trust her. Not now, at least. Well, his beliefs on witches were basically a lie, so… maybe she was trustworthy, somehow. But, right now, his biggest worry was not to burn his tongue with the hot soup; his trust issues would have waited. - He ended up staying at the old house in the forest. No one was waiting for him at the village, and everyone already thought he had died in the forest, so… he had no reasons to go back. And, also, the two were alone… it wasn’t chivalrous leaving two women alone in such a dangerous place; he had to protect them. The witch mother hid a soft smile, when he grumbled his intentions, and she let him stay. She and her daughter taught him how to move in the forest, to recognize the paths, every tree, every rock… they taught him which herbs could heal, and which ones could kill; which mushrooms were edible, and which ones were not. Leone grew up strong and confident, learning from the witches and the forest to be valiant and fierce; and the little witch grew up too, becoming powerful and benevolent, a feared and respected witch as her mother. However, the two seemed just… not to get along, at least most of the time. The reason was apparently simple, but it was like a thorn into their heart: they were too different.

He was a human; yes, a kinda special human, as he had been basically raised by a witch, but still a human: a vulnerable and, mostly, mortal human. She was a witch, and this meant that she was immortal. One day, she would have stopped getting old and she would have stayed like that forever, in an eternal youth, ‘till the end of the days. How could he even think about his feelings for her? Any kind of relationship between them was absurd, ridiculous…

But if it was so, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? He saw her, so strong, and beautiful, and good, always ready to help a wounded animal or to bring back someone lost in the woods; he saw her smile, bright like the sun that filtered through the leaves, and her eyes, glittering like the stream of clear water near their house… he had tried to stop to think about her, oh, he had tried many times, but it was useless. She was in his mind, and she didn’t want to leave.

She would have reached her full maturity at twenty-five years, and, after that birthday, she would have stopped to get old, achieving her people’s immortality. That day was nearer and nearer, and Leone feared that day. It was like… like he was going to lose her forever. He didn’t want it. Maybe… maybe he should confess his feelings? It wouldn’t have changed the fact that she was going to be immortal, but at least she would have known. Or maybe he had to keep it a secret, and just to let her go? Maybe she would have been happier, that way…

He spent so much time pondering and thinking that her birthday came in a rush. While Y/N was celebrating her maturity with the mother witch and their coven, Leone was almost grieving. The time had come, and he had lost his chance. What a fool…

He tried to keep it just for himself as much as he could, but it was hard. Sometimes he slipped, and he showed a bit his true feelings, in the tenderness of his touch, when he helped her to hop down from a high root, or in his lingering gaze on her when she was focusing on her studies or on a potion. He could see that she was confused by his behaviour: one moment he was tender, the following he was cold and distant again… sometimes he spotted even pain, in her eyes, and it pained him deeply. If only he could make her happy as she deserved…

“Do you care to tell me what’s happening, Leone? It’s getting awkward.” Leone frowned, hearing her voice so near. He put aside his sword, turning to look at her, trying to find a good excuse… an excuse that didn’t exist. He could already see the pain in her eyes, like she was expecting him to lie again…

No, he thought, not this time.

“It may get even more awkward, Y/N.” he said, stern, averting his gaze from her. He heard her sighing, and sitting down next to him. He could even sniff her herbal smell…

“It is already awkward. C’mon, Leone. Be honest.” Y/N replied, with a tired sigh. Leone bit his lower lip, uncertain. How could he confess to her with the right sensibility and sincerity? It was an important moment, he didn’t want to screw it up, he had to be delicate…

“I’m in love with you, and I’ve been for a while. But you’re immortal, and I’m a human, so… well, forget it. I’ll eventually let it go.” he grumbled, in the end, almost stumbling on his words. He closed his eyes, cringing internally, realizing how much he had screwed it up. Well, fantastic, now she would have thought he was a creeper and an idiot too…

“For real?” Leone just nodded, at her whisper. He couldn’t bring himself even to look at her face; he was too embarrassed. He almost jolted, when he felt her fingertips tracing his hand’s back, and then interweaving in his ones. Her hand was so warm…

“I’m in love with you too, you big idiot. And… and, well, we could try it, don’t you think? We’re just being sad, now.” she said, with a small pout. Leone dared to look at her, surprised. She felt the same for him…? And… and even wanted to try? With one like him? It was so wonderful it almost seemed untrue…

“But… how will we deal with our… different lifespans?” he asked, frowning a little. She softly smiled, and he felt his heart melting at that sight.

“We’ll find a way, Leone. But now we could just… enjoy the moment, don’t you think?” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder, with a quiet sigh. Leone hid a small smile, closing his eyes and resting his cheek on her hair, feeling way more lighter than just a few moments before.

Enjoying the moment, she said… well, maybe she was right. Surely, they both would have been way happier than how they were now.

They would have faced their future, side by side, when the time would have come. But, right now… they would have enjoyed the moment, and nothing more.

[spaceraspberries]

(The first chapter of my 18+ Undertale Fic ‘Monsterous Skeletonus’ is complete!)

(It’s gonna be a -very- slow burn, but there will be a whole lot of the UF Skelebro’s (G included!) in later chapters and a whole lot of eventual smut to go with it, even if the plot is gonna be heavier than a semi as it maps out 👀)

(Once I get it proof read fully I’m going to post it on A03!)

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‘Alright, alright! Easy now. We don’t need anyone breaking a leg, do we?’

‘Ugh, why do we need to go -all- the way down here? It’s not like the machinery for this shit doesn’t exist. I feel like a old school miner or something, y’know?’

‘Hey! That’s no way for a brave explorer to talk, Meg! Don’t you want to see what’s down there? Could be all sorts of cool, weird stuff!’

‘Like what? More rocks and dirt?~ Oh! Maybe some ‘sand’ even? Give me a break’

‘Guys, d-don’t start arguing. We’re going to be down here f-for a while so it’s best to get along~’

.................

The varying chatter of excited, muffled voices ringing down into the unknown, inky blackness of what was assumed to be a rather hidden among the weeds and rocks but still wide crevice leading into Mt. Ebott that had been only recently discovered, the forested area had been well scouted out over the past few weeks and had been mapped well so that the current team leading the charge wouldn’t have to contend with trying to figure out where their destination would be by sight alone.

The ‘team’, otherwise known as FTL (Future team leaders. A cheesy name if there had ever been one) were simply a group of third year Geo students who had been tasked with taking core samples from the innermost caverns of Mt. Ebott for substrate testing. It wasn’t exactly a glamorous job by any stretch of the word but it was good experience for the youngsters in terms of field work, the leader of the group of ragtag students, a rather burley, bearded man named Sean and his partner Gunter already being at the bottom of the cavern as they waited for the rest of his team to follow suit, the impatient Sean watching as Meg and Desmond, the third and fourth oldest on the team respectively, carefully sidled their way down the craggy rock surface, arguing all the way much to the usually cheerful but honest mans chagrin.

“The more you guys complain the more time your gonna spend down here getting the damn samples. We still have to set up camp too so I suggest you guys pick up the pace”.

A collective groan coming from the duo grappling down, Desmond and Meg soon reached the bottom of the dimly lit cavern while two other members on the surface still suited up, Terra and Mira, a pair of naive adventurers if there ever were any, looking seriously nervous as they prepared to begin the descent down into the unknown.

“You ready?”, Mira smiling nervously at the freckle faced Terra as her friend nodded back hesitantly, it was more often than not that Mira was the braver one between the both of them, Terra being more of the ‘I’ll just follow you for safety sake’ type ever since they were children and Mira often having had to assume a’leadership’ role because of it.

Not that she minded it at all though! If anything, the short-stack of a girl enjoyed leading her best friend through the forest and hills when they were merely kids, the both of them often fighting imaginary monsters and imagining what it would be like to climb the forbidding and dangerous Mt. Ebott that had the reputation of housing -real- beasts and all sorts of angry spirits for centuries.

Well, according to many a scary bedtime story it did at least, Mira no really longer believing such childish fantasies and thinking them about as real as a monster under the bed. The girl had always been terrified as a kid by the thought of some horrific creature climbing down the mountain and snatching her up in the night when she misbehaved, her being unable to look back at those times without laughing at how her own imagination used to run wild.

“Y-yeah, let’s just take it easy though, alright?”.

Terra blushing nervously as Mira grinned and the both of them began the slow descent down into the inner workings of the massive Mt. Ebott, the dark slag that covered most of the upper surface area soon gave way to crumbly, brown flecks of caked in dirt about halfway down that rained into the depths below at the smallest touch, the bright entrance to the surface growing smaller and yet smaller still as eventually it was merely a pin prick of light far, far above the teams head when Terra and Mira finally hit the weirdly soft and rather squishy ground beneath.

“See? We made it down okay~”, Mira helping to unclip Terra’s equipment as she could tell her fellow team mate was uneasy, she was used to Terra being a bit of a worry wart but she seemed to be especially unnerved today for some reason, “Told ya we would make it in one piece”. Sticking her tongue out playfully at Terra as the girl batted her hand away with a sigh once she was unclipped, Mira laughed as Sean meanwhile approached with bottles of water for both of them.

“Hey now! Looks like you made it all in one piece!~”, Sean smirking broadly as he playfully patted the nervous looking Terra on the back, the girl smiled small as she watched the others in the group already beginning to set their bags down alongside the smooth, stone covered walls of the wide, expansive cavern they had landed in.

The circular area where they stood being lit by a few torches that Gunter, a rather quiet short man that was second in command to Sean had placed around what would be their designated base area, it was easy to tell that whatever this place was it must have been pretty damn old, scraggy bits of moss and thick, thorny vines creeping up the strangely, almost ‘carved’ looking walls that were reminiscent of a oversized well in a way.

The dirt covered ground being rather soft and squishy as was mentioned previously, it wasn’t ‘wet’ but had the texture and feel of a half absorbed sponge that had been wrung out and left to dry, bits of dried plant matter, green and yellow, making up a bulk of the signs of life that had floated down from the surface to the seemingly lifeless cave over the years, a large pile of the shriveled mess having formed a rather neat mound directly below the gleaming entrance far above.

Meanwhile, the lack of hardiness in the soil was proving difficult for Desmond to drive the stakes for his tent into by his annoyed grunts and frustrated strings of cusses.

Nature wasn’t for everyone apparently.

A naturally formed but crooked arch towards the east appearing to lead deeper into whatever lay beyond the teams immediate landing spot, it was oddly convenient, almost as if it was beckoning anyone who fell or grappled their way down here to enter it and take a chance with whatever dangers laid beyond Its dismal, abyss like entryway.

Mira getting a bit of a odd vibe from the area as she decided to stick by her team mates side for now, there would be plenty of time to explore later, her taking a sip from her water bottle with a content sigh as Sean soon formed everyone in a loose huddle to discuss their next plan of action.

“Alright!”, Clapping a hand to get everyones attention as he visually assessed that his team was safe and sound, Sean held his constant, positive outlook proudly even as most of his members looked exhausted from the day trek up Ebott and grappling down here, “Now, we all know why we’re here, collecting samples and all that fun stuff. Of course, to avoid outside contamination from -that-“, Sean pointed upwards at the tiny prick of light to the surface above them, “We are going to have to do a bit of traveling inwards once morning hits!”.

“Oh! Does that mean we get to see how far all this goes?~”, Mira speaking up as she genuinely seemed excited about the possibility of traveling farther into the cave system, she ignored the sound of Meg behind her muttering something annoyed under her breath, “I hear some of these caves can stretch for -miles-!”.

“Andddd your exactly right, kiddo! Of course, we only need to collect samples unspoiled by outside contamination. We won’t need to travel too terrible far in for that, but I wouldn’t discount the idea of another trip down here if funding for this pans out”, Sean winking at Mira as the pint sized girl blushed and internally swooned, a intentional, rough cough from Desmond seemed to break the pair out of whatever little ‘thing’ was blooming between them as he motioned to the tents that still needed to be set up.

“Yeah, uh, a-anyways, another thing guys, I don’t want to see anyone wandering off either, got it? We have no idea where these caverns might lead and the last thing we need is to have to send out a rescue squad to find one of you. I’m sure everyone has heard the horror stories of those idiots who decide to go off alone and wind up wedged under a boulder or something”.

Sighing a bit awkwardly to himself as he seemed to get the hint across to his team judging from the murmurs of acknowledgement they gave, Sean was a natural leader and the head of this group obviously....but sometimes it was a bit difficult to get everyone on the same page, the only real ‘friendship’ between them all outside of being grouped students and cavers being Terra and Mira, two of the youngest mates among them.

This was going to be a long, difficult journey if they couldn’t all manage to find a common ground to communicate on, but at least in the end their mission was likely to prove successful now that they had arrived safely in the interior workings of Ebott as planned with barely a scratch.

Soon enough everyone would be back on the surface and they could all go their separate ways, but for now there was work to be done in terms of getting tents set up and dinner ready, the long hike just to get to the top of Ebott having been almost a full days worth of energy.

“Meg, you get a fire and dinner set up since Desmond already has the tents”, Pulling out a small note paid from his pocket as he scribbled something down while he spoke, Sean than looked at Terra and Mira as his usually eager eyes seemed to grow a bit more tense in thought as he rubbed his temple slowly with his free hand.

“And you two....Just...don’t do anything stupid, okay? We don’t want another Cauldron incident. That -especially- goes for you Mira, got it?”.

“Uh...yeah, y-yes Sir”, Mira blushing and nodding once as she glanced at Terra who now had a chance to smile and nudge her friend back playfully, neither of them particularly were proud of the unspoken ‘Cauldron’ incident but it was good reason for them to stay put and out of the way.

...........................

The team taking the next hour or two to set up tents and unpack gear, the plan was for a three day excursion to take samples from the depths of Ebott for both sediment and groundwater exploration. Of course, no one had really ever been -in- this mysterious cave system until now to map it out, the next few days having the potential to be longer or shorter depending on exactly how difficult the terrain proved to be to navigate.

By the time Meg had managed to scrap together a decent fire and everyone had settled down around it for a meal of rationed leek and potato Soup, the group seemed to be more than happy to simply have the chance to relax and take off their worn jackets and boots, The night sky far, far above them having the faintest sparkle of stars and moon mist to indicate the time of day on the surface.

Mira sitting to the left of Terra and near Sean on a blanket while Gunter sat near Desmond on the ground and Meg had perched herself on her bag, it could have almost be called a crude form of camping in a way if any of the said campers shared any sense of shared camaraderie.

“I’ve always heard weird things about this mountain, y’know? Things like ghosts and goblins and the like”, Desmond sipping his soup as he spoke with a sly grin, the flannel shirted man seemed to enjoy the way he made the nervous Terra especially perk up and shuffle ever so closer to Mira like a lost pup.

“How they especially like to eat little kids that wander away from home....Yeah, I bet they are just waiting to snatch some new prey up when they get a chance~”.

“Real mature, Des. I bet it took you all day to come up with that one, right?”, Meg rolling her blue eyes as the man continues to grin and simply drank his soup, Mira meanwhile seemed to be quite curious about what Desmond was getting at though as she suddenly became a bit more attentive.

“Well...I’m not a kid and neither is Terra, so we should be fine~”, Smiling lightly as she kind of wanted Desmond to continue talking about his little stories of what might be in these mountains, her gaze silently urged him to keep speaking as she let Terra cuddle close to her for warmth.

Desmond chuckling and shaking his head at Mira’s assertion that she wasn’t a child, he closed his eyes for a moment in thought, “ Nah, you don’t wanna hear stuff like that before bed, believe me”.

“B-but, I mean it, I’m really curious about -all- that kind of stuff! Cryptids, ghosts, you name it! I-I mean I don’t -believe- in any of it...it’s just, uh...fascinating I guess”.

“Mmm, I think he might be right, Mira. Besides, we should be hitting the sack soon anyways. Everyone’s got a big day ahead tomorrow”, Sean raising a brow at Mira’s apparent interest in what might be lurking around the inner workings of Ebott, his input seemed to only fuel Mira’s insistence in knowing more about what she thought Desmond was ‘hiding’ from her because he saw her as merely a kid.

“Come on, just -one- story?~ You can’t just lead me on like that”, Mira feeling Terra cuddle a bit closer to her even more so as she seemed to be persistent enough to convince Desmond to give in, the man sighed and put his empty cup down as Mira internally cheered that he seemed he was going to tell them more about his creepy tales.

“Alright alright, but only one, got it? Man, you kids these days know how to work a old mans feelings”.

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................

.........

Sleep coming easy for the exhausted group by the time Desmond had sufficiently managed to spook nearly everyone out with his tale of a creature called the ‘Crooked handed woman’, Terra had, as usual, decided to remain by Mira’s side even when they were comfortably safe inside their tents and was cuddled up next to her best friend once the group had decided to call it a night.

It wasn’t as if Mira minded much that the perpetually nervous girl wanted to share a tent, her honestly thriving off the warmth that the both of them being this close gave in this unnaturally cold cavern.

Desmond’s tale still ringing in the back of Mira’s mind as she fell into a mild sleep not long after getting herself comfortable, the thought of some old, crone like hag with skin like old onion paper and a twisted and gnarled hand with a ‘mind of its own’ was enough to keep her up a little after everyone else had fallen asleep, the occasional sound of what Mira assumed was dried leaves shuffling outside her tent instinctively making her cuddle up a bit more in her sleeping bag to feel smaller.

Yeah, maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to beg Desmond to tell his tale after all....

‘T-there isn’t anything out there! Stop being stupid and get your mind off of it already!’

Maybe Desmond was right to not want to tell his creepy stories when what she really needed was to sleep for tomorrows expedition deeper into the cave, Mira sighing a bit to herself as she watched Terra’s soft, unworried, sleeping face next to her own as she slowly tried to lull her body into rest as well.

............

......

-scerch scerch...scritch....~

‘W-what? What is that?’

Mira cracking her groggy eyes open after a minute or so of letting her mind rest, the sound of rustling ‘leaves’ outside of her tent had for a second or two became a bit louder than before, her senses instinctively going on high alert as she waited in silence to see if she wasn’t truly just going crazy from exhaustion.

...............

.........

‘scritch scritch....-c r u u u u n c h-

.............

The sound of what Mira could best describe as one of the Lit-A-Fire portable logs that had been put out by Sean earlier snapping slowly in half, the girls heart was pounding in her chest by now as it was more than obvious that someone, or some t h i n g, was out there just beyond her tent, her wide eyes focusing on the still sleeping Terra in front of her as she debated on waking her friend up to investigate.

‘No, she is just gonna freak out. Just stay put Mira...I-it’s probably just Sean or someone out there....’

............

-c r u n c h-

The sound of another one of the logs seemingly being split in half reaching Mira’s ears as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to panic, a odd tapping noise, almost like long nails clicking on stone, was a new sound to emerge after a few seconds of silence, the story she had heard from Desmond earlier returning to her already panicking young mind ten fold.

The old lady with her crooked hand and it’s long, gnarled nails....t-there was no way it was real, right?

............

.......

-tap tap-

A terrified, muffled squeak coming from Mira as she buried her head in her bag, the sound was now right outside of her tent as she felt Terra stir besides her, her not wanting to see who or whatever was attempting to seemingly try to get her attention as the front zipper of the girls shared tent opened rather slow and quietly.

“G-go away!!”.

Mira bolting up and slamming a pillow directly into the face of a most perplexed looking Gunter, the sleepy, heavy set man crunched his brow together as he put his hands up in a mock fashion to show he surrendered.

“Hey there, just calm down!”, Shaking his head once as he tried to speak quietly to avoid waking Terra, Mira blushed heavily out of shame as she immediately seemed to realize how stupid she had been to think that the kindly second in command to Sean had been some kind of ‘monster’.

“Was wonder’in if ya had the first aid in here. Kinda stepped on some of the logs while going to take a leak...and, well...”, Gunter running a hand along his hairline as Mira immediately went to hand off the box of medical supplies to the sleepy looking man that resided safely by the tent entrance, the pink blush she had sprouted didn’t leave her face as she sighed and retrieved her pillow she had thrown at him as well.

“Sorry bout that....”, Speaking quietly as she hugged the parcel to her chest, Mira was merely given a nod by the typically introverted Gunter as he went to zip the tent back up, her and the still sleeping Terra once again being left in the dark, Mira feeling like a total fool for letting Desmond and his stupid story get to her to the point of her actually thinking some terrifying beast had been shuffling about outside.

..............

........

-Scritchhhhhh~

Laying back down to -finally- get some much needed sleep, Mira paid little mind to the sound of what she assumed was Gunter bandaging up his wounded foot, her giving a mighty yawn as she wrapped a arm around Terra and-

..........

-B A N G-

.............

A heavy, extremely loud jolt rocking the pairs tent and apparently the others nearby as she could hear the sound of confused yelling and tired murmurs almost all at once, the startled Terra too blinked her eyes open as she gave a scared, confused look to Mira, her putting a finger to her lip to silently signal to the younger girl to remain quiet as she unzipped and peeked out of the tent to see what the heck was up now.

.......

-B A N G!!!-

A heavy, hot pressure nearly collapsing the heavy canvas tent in on both Terra and Mira as the girls let out a terrified cry of confusion as the fabric fell around them, Mira even under the mess could tell that Sean was shouting indistinguishable words to the others in a apparent panic at whatever was going on, Meg’s just as muffled, frantic pleas mixing in with his orders as Mira tried to yank Terra out from under their collapsed tent as another heavy bang and a sudden, strange whistling noise erupted around them again.

“T-Terra! We need to get out of here!!!”.

Terra, fearful tears streaming down her face as Mira grabbed a hold of her wrist while a bright flash of what could only have been described as a ‘ball of green hued flames’ slammed into the opposing wall nearest where Desmond and Meg’s tent had been, Mira squirmed out from the remnants of tent fabric as she didn’t bother or try to look at whatever or whoever was causing this havoc, her only instinct telling her to run as far away with Terra as she could while she still had the chance.....

Whatever was going on m-must have been some weird, natural cave phenomenon....that was the only real explanation Mira could come up with on the fly e-even if it made little sense logically....

Flames just didn’t shoot out of nowhere like this though.....but maybe since Ebott was rumored to be a long dormant volcano t-that had something to do with all of this?

As little sense as it made it was the -only- logic running through Mira’s imagination as she tried to block out the frantic sound of yelling and screaming back from base, the loud crack of a shotgun being added to the fray as Mira practically dragged Terra towards the archway nearby.

The dimness of the cavern making it nearly impossible for the pair to get their footing as the torches from earlier had been put out by Sean in anticipation of a good nights rest, Mira blindly ran towards the stone archway that led deeper into the yet unexplored inner cavern, her bare feet scrapping painfully along the much rougher, cement-like surface of the pitch black entry way into the unknown depths.

Her nearly crushing Terra’s wrist in her grip as she pulled the hyperventilating and crying girl along, the sound of the carnage from the base camp was now only a muffled, distant drone as the wide eyed and fully shocked Mira eventually stopped to take a breath once they reached a narrow alcove that was eerily silent and still compared to the chaos outside.

“Y-you alright?~”, Whispering softly to Terra as she held her sobbing friend close to her chest, Mira tried to shush Terra but it wasn’t doing much good, the easily terrified girl unable to calm herself as she clung to Mira tightly.

“I want to go -home-, Mira! Coming down h-here was a mistake! I -knew- it was a bad idea and now look what happened! We need to g-go back and help them!!”.

“I know, I wanna go home too....but I don’t think going back there is the best option right now”, Mira trying to give Terra a little smirk to lighten the mood but failing miserably, it didn’t help much at all as Terra simply broke out into a fresh round of sobbing, “We will figure this out, okay?~ I-I’m sure things aren’t as bad as they seem and we probably just over reacted. To be honest I bet this is one of Sean’s stupid pranks”.

“Thats -not- funny and you know that isn’t true!! F-for all we know Sean a-and Desmond and everyone else is hurt back there! I don’t know what happened but whatever a-accident or...-thing- tore up all our tents...but we are going to have to go back and help them!”.

The sound of the distant drone of chaos back from the base slowly growing less urgent as a unnerving silence began to replace it instead, Mira gave Terra a look that said to not even try it, her keeping her grip on her friends wrist as tight as ever.

“Listen...”, Mira taking a hold of Terra’s trembling hand as she tried to be the braver one between them, she sensed that the agitated girl was going to run off the first chance she saw to who knows where and wasn’t going to take the risk of letting that happen.

“Your going to stick with me until we can figure out what’s going on, okay? Going it alone in this place...seems a bit, uh, dangerous...”.

“B-but Mira!-“.

Mira letting out a deep, exhausted sigh as she shuffled Terra to her chest for comfort with the girls protesting, it was partially to avoid letting her see the nervous tears forming in her own eyes, Mira not being cut out to be a leader on the fly like this by any means.

“We need to see if there are any other exits out of here. I know this is scary a-and all, but I know you can do this, Terra~ I know your really brave deep down even if you don’t think it”, Giving her friends hand one last squeeze of determination as Terra seemed to brighten up slightly at Mira’s kind words, the darkness ahead of them seemed to be silently daring the inexperienced pair to take it on, there being no chance of going back now as Mira gave a slight tug of Terra’s arm to prompt her along into the unexplored and potentially hazardous new world, “We are going to get out of here together, I promise”.

Unfortunately for the unwary girls, the journey ahead of them wasn’t going to be easy and the chance of either making it back to the surface at all was slim, a certain green eyed, rather dirty furred ‘beast’ already being well aware of Mira and Terra’s presence~

[cruelangelstheses]

with quiet courage

fandom: coraline rating: G characters: coraline, wybie words: 2.1k additional tags: canon compliant, post-canon, fluff, angst, mental health issues, character study description: years later, wybie gives coraline a gift. a/n: hi, this was written for the @ethereal-zine! i just thought it would be interesting to explore the long-term effects that the whole ordeal with the other world could have on coraline’s mental health. title from “with quiet courage” by larry daehn

read it on ao3

—

Something feels...wrong.

She can’t explain it, can’t even fully comprehend it herself, but the house feels different tonight, like it’s just waiting for the right moment to pounce. Every creak sends chills down her spine. This isn’t right.

Coraline glances out the kitchen window at their garden, but finds that she can’t really see it, despite the fact that the moon is close to full, last time she checked. She raises her gaze to the sky, squinting in confusion, and her heart nearly stops at what she sees: a shadow passing over the moon in the shape of a button, holes and all.

Gasping, Coraline pushes herself away from the window, every inch of her suddenly on high alert. That’s when she hears it: a familiar metallic skittering across the floor, a sound she knows all too well.

She bolts out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaping into her bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her. Her blood rushes in her ears.

It only gives her a few moments’ reprieve before she hears the skittering again, even closer and louder than before. Coraline backs away from the door, frantically searching her room for anything she could use as a weapon. She digs underneath her pillow for the pocketknife she bought in secret a year or two ago, but inexplicably, it’s nowhere to be found. Her heart nearly stops when she sees the hand crawl in from underneath.

The hand is severed at first, but from its wrist seems to grow an arm, a torso, another arm, all made out of needles. Coraline steels herself as the Beldam materializes before her eyes.

“You are my daughter,” she hisses, as something else appears in one of her hands. “You’re going to stay with me forever.”

In one hand, she holds another needle, already threaded. In the other is a gift box, and inside it sits a pair of black buttons.

“Hold still,” the Beldam continues. Coraline tries to move, to fight, to do anything, but her whole body is suddenly frozen. “This will only hurt a bit.” She takes a step forward, needle pointing at Coraline’s face, and then—

Coraline jolts awake and sits up rapidly, trying to catch her breath. The morning light streams through her bedroom window, a reminder of where she is: not the Other World, but the real one. Reaching under her pillow, she feels for her pocketknife. She is seventeen now, but still the events of her childhood plague her dreams.

She still has her stuffed animals. Most of the time, they sit on her shelf, watching over her like guardian angels, ensuring that danger doesn’t even make it through the doorway. Sometimes, though, on nights where the house creaks more than usual, on nights where Coraline swears she can feel a sinister gaze burning into her back, she grabs a few of them and sleeps with them in her bed, holding them tight against her chest, as if they will cast a bubble around her body that protects her from any harm. Sometimes she doesn’t even sleep, just lies awake in terror for hours on end. She’s far too old to sleep in her parents’ bed, but some nights, she tiptoes over to their bedroom and cracks the door open, just enough so she can see that they’re still there, safe and sound.

Coraline loves her parents, but they don’t completely understand everything. It’s not their fault; they have no memory of being kidnapped by the Beldam, and they weren’t witness to anything else that happened that fateful year. She tried to explain bits and pieces when she was younger, but they dismissed it as a child’s wild imagination or particularly vivid dreams, and she’s not sure she can really blame them. After all, it hardly sounds believable.

She’s made some other friends at her new school, and they’re wonderful, but none of them get it, either. They don’t understand why she cringes every time they point out the tiny door that leads to nowhere when they come over to her house. They don’t understand why buttons and dolls disturb her to this day, or why when she looks at a snow globe, it always takes her a moment to register that there is nothing frightening inside of it. “Something happened to me when I was a kid,” she told them once, to allay their concerns. “It was really scary. I could’ve died. So if I ever do something...weird, that’s probably why.” None of them questioned her, then, when she bought that pocketknife. If nothing else, she’s grateful for that.

Wybie and his grandmother are the only ones she can actually talk to about what happened, and she’s not going to come to them every single time she has a paranoid thought (which is, unfortunately, fairly often). Usually she can calm herself down, anyway; she just has to take deep breaths and remind herself that the key is gone, at the bottom of a bottomless well, and the Beldam can never open that godforsaken portal ever again.

It takes lying there for another ten minutes, eyes closed and focusing on nothing but the sound of her own breathing, for Coraline to finally muster up the energy to pull herself out of bed. At least it’s a Friday, she tells herself. She has to work a bit this weekend, but her job involves more stocking shelves than interacting with other people, so it’s still better than school.

It’s not that she hates school. She likes learning when it’s interesting, and she likes seeing her friends. It’s not even that she dislikes other people, because she doesn’t, really. Even people she thought were weird or annoying at first, like Wybie, have grown on her with time. It’s just that she fears she’ll have a flashback or a panic attack in the middle of class and embarrass herself. It’s happened before—in middle school she was branded a freak when a sewing project in her home economics class brought her to tears for reasons she didn’t know how to explain. Strangely enough, she feels safer in her neighborhood. It’s an environment she knows well, and as odd as her neighbors are, she trusts them to protect her, even if they might not be aware of it. She remembers Mr. Bobinsky’s warning not to go through the little door, and she remembers the adder stone given to her by Misses Spink and Forcible—and, of course, she remembers Wybie, who once called her crazy before he saw the Beldam’s severed hand for himself, before he helped her dispose of the key for good. Technically, he’s the one who found the Coraline doll that spied on her in the first place—a fact that she hates him for on her worst days—but she knows that he had no idea, and it doesn’t do any good to blame him. After all, even if he may have inadvertently introduced Coraline to the Other Mother, he also helped to defeat her.

While Coraline is choosing her outfit for the day, her phone buzzes: a text from Wybie. Hey Jonesy, it reads, meet me outside then. I got something for ya.

Coraline raises an eyebrow. That could mean anything. Still, she sends him a quick Ok and slips her clothes on. If it happens to be a slug or something, at least she can say her day got off to an interesting start.

Being writers, her parents don’t have to wake up as early as she does, so Coraline usually fixes her own breakfast—often something quick, like a muffin—and heads out the door. Today is no exception, her meal a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. It sort of makes her feel like a kid again, in a good way. Sitting alone at the kitchen table, Cheerios in her spoon, the sun rising over the foggy mountains, a feeling of quiet peace and even innocence settles over her like dust on a bookshelf. In this moment, there is no fear, no nightmares, no flashbacks. In this moment, she is not a teenager doing her best to survive even while her mind begs to differ. She is the little girl she once was, before she was forced to be brave in the face of true horror. The sky glows pink and orange, a phenomenon unknown to the Other World. She’s grown to appreciate daylight more since then.

Finally, Coraline vaults her backpack over her shoulder and pushes the front door open, saying a silent goodbye to her parents in her head. Sure enough, at the bottom of the hill, leaning up against the Pink Palace sign, is Wybie, who looks like he’s playing a game on his phone. When he hears the sound of her footsteps, he looks up and waves to her.

“You’re back,” she says once she’s close enough to him to talk without having to shout. For the past two weeks, Wybie has been on a school trip to Germany. (Coraline couldn’t go because she’s taking Spanish instead of German.) It’s pretty stupid for them to get back on a Friday and then have to go to regular school for one day, in her opinion, but that’s just how it worked out. “You said you have something for me?” She can’t help but wonder if it’s a souvenir of some sort. She’d joked about him getting her one, but she didn’t actually expect him to do it.

“Yeah,” Wybie says. As they start to walk down the path that leads to town and their school, he pulls something small out of his jeans pocket, holding it in both hands so she can’t see what it is. His voice sounds strangely solemn. “So, you know how you said Miss Spink and Miss Forcible gave you that stone that one time? The one with the hole in the middle?”

Coraline remembers it well: the adder stone that helped her find the ghost children’s eyes all those years ago. When she read up about them later on, she found that rocks with naturally occurring holes in them, called adder stones or hag stones, are said to have magical properties. One of them is the ability to see through a witch or fairy’s disguises or traps, but others include the prevention of nightmares and curing whooping cough.

Coraline certainly doesn’t have whooping cough, but she does have nightmares, and she’s already seen the power of an adder stone for herself. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “They’re pretty rare. The Other Mother destroyed the one I had.”

Wybie flashes her a little half-smile and opens his palms, revealing a round, grayish stone with a medium-sized hole in it. “We visited the north coast one day,” he says as she takes it from him, “and I just happened to stumble across it. Apparently that’s one of the places where they’re more common, in northern Germany.” He shrugs. “I saw it, and I knew I had to give it to you. Not like you’ll need to find any more ghost children’s eyes, but…”

Coraline holds the stone up to her eye, feeling an odd comfort when she looks through the hole, even though nothing seems different. Feeling a soft smile spread across her face, she slips the stone into her pocket and says, “Thank you, Wybie.” Then, to lighten the mood, she adds, “I guess taking German was a good decision after all.”

Wybie blows a raspberry at her. “Hey, who got to go to a foreign country? Not you.”

They banter back and forth like that for a while, but part of Coraline is still focused on the stone in her pocket and the thoughtfulness behind it. It’s so small, but both the stone and the gesture give her the burst of courage she needs to get through the rest of the day, the week, the month. It’s a different kind of courage from what she had to muster up to stop the Beldam. It’s subtler, quieter. It’s the courage of a girl who has seen real ugliness, who has felt the deepest and most primal sort of fear, who went through hell and came out alive but unsure where to go from there. How do you keep on going when you’ve been face to face with death?

The answer, she realizes, is simple: it takes courage. It might be the kind that only a few people can see, but it’s courage all the same.

[lonestarbabe]

Running Towards the Tide

(A03)

T.K. has to decide if he wants to wake up and keep living or let go of life altogether after he has been shot.

Or Four Times T.K. Wanted to Die (+1 he didn’t) 

One

The first time T.K. felt the darkness was when he was five years old. He’d been laying in bed, staring at the shadows on his ceiling. His imagination ran wild with all the thoughts of what lurked in his room that looked pixelated in the darkness. He shivered under his blankets, dreading closing his eyes while also dreading keeping them open. He didn’t know what horrors surrounded him, and it was unclear whether it was better to see the threats or remain unaware.

He craved to run away with his imagination to a distant land where it was never dark. He’d stare at his nightlight until he went to sleep just to have a little light shooting through his eyelids, but when he woke up, even with the sun peering in through his window, the shadows were still very much alive. There was a gray film on everything, and T.K. couldn’t figure out why or how to fix it, and he didn’t know enough about the phenomenon to explain it to his parents. They’d probably just think he was imagining the grayness just like they thought he was imagining the monsters he saw in the shadows.

The darkness had come out of the blue in its black glory. Nothing bad brought it on. It wasn’t as if T.K. was that different from other five-year-olds. The darkness was just something that had attached itself to T.K. for whatever reason. Some kids had imaginary friends. T.K. had the darkness. Sometimes, it would go away for a little while, off to visit some other poor soul, but it always returned just as cloying as ever. It pretended to want what was best for T.K., but the darkness didn’t protect him. It put him in the worst kind of danger, the kind that came from within. It made him feel terrified and alone. It made him want to be better so badly that he wound up feeling worse.

The darkness was loyal. Hiding with him when his parents would bicker in soft voices that had the breathiness of a whisper and the loudness of a yell. They only fought when he went to bed, but T.K. was a big boy. He knew what they were doing. Could hear them saying things they would apologize for in the morning. The dark brought the worst out of them.

Loneliness filled his small chest as he heard his parents fight. He figured their issues somehow had to be about him, and that was the loneliest feeling in the world. It was hard being so young and already trying to process such adult things. He needed someone to be there for him through such a hard time. He’d wanted a dog, but the darkness had to suffice as his most loyal confidante because his parents had, after some midnight fights, decided that a dog in the city was a bad idea.

When 9/11 happened, a few years later, the darkness came again stronger than ever, but he didn’t think much of it because it came down upon the whole city, seeping out into the rest of the United States like mucky water overflowing from a toilet. Fear and despair loomed from the planes overhead, the skyscrapers, the street signs, and the roads, all the way down to the subway tracks running steadfastly under the city. One horrific event changed the whole country, creating undeniable grief that would spread throughout the world in various iterations. No one was spared from the impacts. Life became more frantic, which was hard when T.K. already struggled to keep up.

The terror of that day stuck with T.K. He thanked God that his dad had brought home, but then, he realized that his dad was alive but not the same man he had been. Now, Owen was friends with the darkness too, and it was confusing for a kid to understand the darkness in his dad when he couldn’t even understand it in himself. It was startling how the chaos of 9/11 fell into the terrifying silence of post 9-11 life.

He remembered the days when it had all calmed down. There was still a lot going on in the world, of course, but domestically, life had come to a standstill. The funerals were done. The terrorist attacks were still talked about nonstop on the news, but in T.K.’s house, that was not the case. The televisions stayed off. His parents didn’t talk. They didn’t even fight. His mother told him not to make a fuss for his father when she left to put in extra hours at work.

T.K. would curl up in bed, and he’d have nightmares about his dad dying and being burned and broken. His dad was the sole survivor from his team, which was even more harrowing to T.K. because that meant surviving was the anomaly. It felt like his dad had cheated death and that death would surely come for him with a vengeance. T.K. was terrified to let Owen from his sight. Sometimes, at night, when his parents were already asleep, he’d sneak into bed between them, which he hadn’t done since he was four.

His mom would scold him, telling him that he was too old to be in their bed because she didn’t want him to witness Owen’s own nightmares. But T.K. hated being so distant from them, even if he was only a wall away, and it wasn’t fair that he had to sleep alone in his twin sized bed. T.K. told himself that he had to be brave, just like his father. He wanted to be a firefighter someday, a hero, so he practiced bravery at night. He promised himself that someday practicing would pay off and he could grow up to save people and help them be brave.

At night, T.K. would cry, muffling his sobs in his pillow because dad didn’t need the noise. T.K. had to be extra good. His daddy was sad, and T.K. feared that if he misbehaved, his dad would have trouble getting better. His dad needed to get better, and it seemed that until his dad stopped being sad, T.K. couldn’t be either because as T.K. stayed in the sad silence of his apartment, a fuzziness filled his stomach.

He felt like a shaken soda with no way to relieve the pressure, and eventually, he’d burst, throwing a tantrum and begging for someone to ease the perpetual grayness. His dad would pull him into a hug, and his mom would tell Owen not to coddle him because she didn’t want him to grow up being a brat. He’d feel guilty for taking too much of his dad’s attention and for stressing his mom out even more when she had the responsibility of keeping the whole household afloat while his dad got better.

He’d hate himself for being so terrible. He’d imagine his dad getting sicker under the stress of having such an awful son. His mom would beg him to try harder when she tucked him in at night, looking uncharacteristically frazzled like she’d been through World War III, but T.K. didn’t know how to try harder when he had so many feelings he couldn’t control, so he shut them off when he could. He pretended he couldn’t feel anything and went through life like a robot, and the less of himself he showed, the more the tension seemed to lift from his mother’s shoulders and his dad started getting better. As an adult, T.K. could realize that the changes were a product of therapy and time, but as a kid, the magic solution to his family’s woes seemed to rely on T.K.’s good behavior.

But feelings couldn’t be erased. Like garbage, they could be carted to the landfill, but they’d still sit there in an overwhelming pile of rot. They’d mix in a dizzying mass that would make joy indistinguishable from anger. So, the feelings were there. They had to be somewhere, but he’d compacted them so much that they’d melded together, and to fully embrace any one of those feelings, he’d have to painstakingly tear the pieces apart and address all the junk that was too hard to fathom in his young mind. So, he kept pushing it all away. To the landfill it all went.

Even as his dad got better, life was still messy. He’d slip up and do something bad, and more problems would occur. His dad was in a better place. He was back to work, making T.K. fear for the worst every time his dad left. When Owen was home, T.K. clung to him like a shadow on a sunny day until Owen had to leave T.K. again, and as a displayed shadow, T.K. became only darkness. Still, when things were good, they were perfect. Owen was back to playing with T.K. and being the best dad in the world. T.K.’s mom smiled more and would pull him into long hugs, kiss his head, and ask him about what he did at school. She’d tell him he was such a good boy. But then he wasn’t, and his parents fought more, still in those trying-to-whisper shouts, and the pressure to be good kicked in all over again because if he stopped, the darkness would engulf his family.

He hated walking through life, acting as a prop to his parents’ crumbling marriage. He knew his parents would have helped him if they knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell them that anything was wrong because good kids could handle bad things all on their own, and T.K. didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t a good kid, especially because it would be just another burden for his family when they’d been through enough. So, he shut up, but when he’d go to bed, he’d whisper swear words under the covers just to hear himself speak. He’d fill the silence with the nastiness he had to repress.

The awfulness could be less awful if he let the darkness help him control it. He could run away from all the bad feelings even when he was diving headfirst into an inferno. Running was tiring, though, and he just wanted a rest.

He’d let the darkness lay in bed beside him as the silence of night haunted him. The darkness filled him with a restless dread. It’d tell him that it would be easier not to exist, and he’d believe it. He wasn’t going to do anything to hurt himself. Good boys didn’t do that, but he prayed that he’d die in his sleep, get kidnapped, or just be wiped from existence completely. He wanted something to take him out of his misery. Death was scary, but the quiet was scarier. He imagined himself standing in New York traffic and feelings the cars and swerve around him. People would shout and honk. His ears would be filled with stimuli, and T.K. found the thought to be delightful. Anything was better than being the good boy who never shouted or made a fuss and was constantly running in a hamster ball full of turds.

Two

At sixteen, he started drinking because honestly, he didn’t see the point in being, or trying to be, the perfect kid anymore because clearly, he was just a troublemaker and would only bring the people he loved pain no matter what he did. Being good had brought him no happiness and it was time to try the opposite.

He wanted to drink, get high, get F’s, and kiss boys. It started with parties in penthouses with friends from school, which was fun and all, but T.K. needed something more. High school parties with some booze and weed just didn’t seem bad enough. Everyone did it, but T.K. didn’t want to be like everyone. So, he started hanging around gay bars with a fake ID that people probably didn’t buy but mostly didn’t question. He was shy at first, sipping his drink and chatting with people who came up to him. Occasionally, he’d end up making out in a back alley, but then, he’d cut off the kissing and head home, scared of the next step. The more he kissed, the less scary sex became, but sex would always be scary, he figured, until he tried it. Honestly, he just wanted to do it so he could stop thinking about how he might mess it up, so one night, he went to a sketchy bar and searched for someone to pop his cherry.

The first time was something he could never forget. It was with a twenty-two-year-old who he’d met at a bar that he was too young to be in. T.K. had lied and said he was twenty-one, and he sipped on a vodka tonic thankful that the bartender had barely looked at his ID. He’d try to look as old as he could, trading his uniform, a prestigious emblem stitched on the chest, for dark jeans and a button-down shirt with little leaves on it,  a perfect fusion of “I just threw this on because I’m naturally cool,” and “I actually put in effort in so you know I mean business.”

Alan had come up to him, complimenting him on how young he looked with a wink, and said, “I like my men to look like boys.” T.K. fought the chills that had gathered that wanted to run a marathon up his spine. He didn’t have time to be scared. He only wanted someone to fuck him so it would be done with. He wasn’t looking for love. T.K. loved love, but on that night, he was looking to be used by this older, experienced guy who didn’t seem to care if T.K. was as old as he said he was.

They went back to Alan’s apartment, where Alan’s roommate was waiting. Alan asked if it was okay if Adrian joined in, and T.K. said yes because he figured it be weird for a gay boy to say no to sex with two hot men even though he’d imagined his first time being something more intimate.

He had the urge to run away crying to his dad like a little kid. He wanted to go home and play Trouble in the safety of his dad’s dinky apartment that he’d gotten after the divorce. But he didn’t want to look like a baby, so he went ahead with the threesome, thinking that this way he could shake the good boy out forever.

Alan had dragged him into the bedroom, ripping his shirt open as buttons popped off, and T.K. panicked, wondering how the hell he was going to go home wearing that. “Don’t worry,” you can borrow one of mine,” Alan had promised. Adrian had joined in, kissing his neck and rubbing a hand across his torso.

He couldn’t keep up with all the body parts that touched him, or the things Alan and Adrian did to him because he was sixteen and had no idea what he was doing, which was why he’d found the most mature guy who seemed interested and latched onto him. He’d gotten two for the price of one. He should be happy, but the darkness was pushing on his chest and he didn’t know how to make it go away. Backing out certainly wouldn’t make him feel better. He’d just feel like a loser virgin. So, he let the two men do what they wanted and tried to keep his breathing steady and his eyes open.

It felt good during sex. Sort of. His body had reacted, at least, but after, T.K. felt dirty. He wanted to curl up in a ball and never leave his bed again. He went home wearing a shirt that was two sizes too big for him and smelling like a man he wanted to forget. He wanted to burn the shirt, emblazoned with NYU, but he kept it in his closet. He still has it a decade later, and it’s more his size now, not that he can stand to put it on. He doesn’t know why he keeps it, but it feels important. Like an anti-safety-blanket. Something to remind him to be careful with his heart.

He cried on and off for three days afterward, and he couldn’t hide his feelings from his father this time, no matter how much he didn’t want to have to talk. Owen sat down by T.K. on his bed, rubbing calming circles on his back and brushing a hand through his hair. “Hey, want to tell me what’s wrong?”

And no, getting fucked by two strangers wasn’t something T.K. wanted to tell anyone, especially not the person who he most wanted to make proud, so he settled for the less offensive version of the truth, “Dad, I’m gay.”

The way Owen pulled T.K. into his arms and said, “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that,” made T.K. want to die a little less. “Actually, it’s more than okay. It’s you, my beautiful, strong kid,” made T.K. feel like he’d never be good enough for the great things in his life. Good boy or bad boy, the darkness would linger.

Three

At twenty, T.K. figured out how to make the darkness brighter after breaking his leg. A couple Oxy and the pitch blackness would become bright, fluorescent light, fake and far from the sunlight his pale skin craved.

He also fell in love with a guy named Ambrose, addictive and nearly as blinding as the oxy. Ambrose was the kind of guy who could convince Jesus to worship the devil. He’d compliment T.K., and brush his hands through his hair, just like T.K.’s dad had always done when he was sick. T.K. always loved that, and Ambrose knew it. He used it as a weapon, but T.K. was glad to have the affection.

They’d get into a fight, Ambrose accusing T.K. of cheating when he came home laughing and smiling after dinner with a friend. Or even his dad. He’d demean T.K. for half an hour until T.K. cried and begged for forgiveness. Ambrose would say, “You should have thought of that when you chose another man over me,” and he’d give T.K. the silent treatment for hours because Ambrose knew the silence made T.K. go crazy.

Finally, T.K. would explode. He’d yell at a silent Ambrose, trading tears for pleading. Ambrose would never answer. He’d merely continue making dinner, and he’s set two places at the small table in the living room. He’d make the table extra romantic with candles and cloth napkins, but when T.K. went to sit down, Ambrose would say, “This could have been for you if you weren’t such a whore,” and he’d take the extra plate away and serve himself the decadent meal while T.K. would have to watch Ambrose eat as he nibbled on whatever he could find in the cupboards.

T.K. would go to bed, thinking to himself that he had to get away, but then, at just the right time, Ambrose’s voice would fill T.K.’s ears. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he would say, “I just worry that you can’t help but sleep around. It might be who you are, and I can’t take thinking about you with other people. Can’t you see what you do to me?”

Sometimes, T.K. would try to protest, “That’s not how I am.” Mostly, he would stay silent, not as a weapon but because he didn’t know what else to say.

Ambrose would laugh like it was a silly thing to say. “When you lost your virginity, you had a threesome,” as if a threesome somehow made him unqualified to be faithful in a relationship. T.K. wished he’d never told Ambrose about that. He didn’t mention that the threesome had been traumatizing and shitty because he was sixteen and didn’t know how to say no or that he still had the  NYU shirt in his closet. “But you never have threesomes with me.”

“I’m sorry,” T.K. would always say at the end of their fights, somehow feeling like he was the one who had screwed things up… yet again. He ruined things. That’s just how he was.

T.K. dreaded spending too much time with Ambrose, but he stayed for the highs. The romantic dinners, the champagne, the Oxy that Ambrose would slip T.K. as a treat for being especially obedient. He spent less time with his dad when he was with Ambrose. Ambrose hated T.K.’s dad, thought that he was too controlling while Owen thought the same thing about Ambrose, urging T.K. to end the relationship. “It’s abusive,” Owen would say, but T.K. didn’t think so. He figured he deserved all the cruel words. It wasn’t like Ambrose hit him. Though, physical violence probably wouldn’t deter T.K. much when it came to Ambrose either.

Fortunately, but heartbreakingly at the time, the relationship came to a sudden halt when Ambrose got sick of T.K. “moping all the time.” Ambrose broke up with him when T.K. was twenty-three, and he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or sink into a deeper depression, so he did both, using meaningless sex to get him through while celebrating that Ambrose was no longer a part of his life. The more his partners used him, the better. He still refused multiple partners at once, though, because that would be a level of self-destruction that even T.K. couldn’t handle.

He could spend time with his dad without feeling guilty, and sleep with whoever he wanted. It was great. As great as life could be when everything still felt like a train wreck and your heart was still shattered for a stupid person who didn’t deserve to have so much power over you.

After Ambrose, T.K. used oxy more because rough sex wasn’t enough to cut the pain rushing through him or the numbness that he used to drown the pain. He’d wake up having lost hours of his time or in a stranger’s bed, and he was perfectly fine with that. He started withdrawing from his family again, who didn’t stop caring just because T.K. shut them out. He worked during the day and at night, he’d get high.

His dad cornered him one day, telling him he needed to seek treatment, but T.K. didn’t listen. He didn’t want to get help. He wanted to die and stop feeling all the bad things while still feeling good things. Oxy let him do that for a little while. It eased the aching in his body, and he wondered how he didn’t know of it before he broke his leg. He had been living in the darkness for so long, and he was still living in the darkness, but now, he had a lamp to simulate brightness.

It wasn’t until an overdose that T.K. couldn’t avoid his dad’s pleas for treatment any longer, so T.K. got better, and he stopped using, but the darkness wasn’t dead because T.K. was very much alive. T.K. found new ways to control his feelings. More meaningless sex, men who would hurt him, his job as a firefighter. He wasn’t handling his life healthily, but he was handling it as best as he could. Without Oxy.

Then, eventually, he met Alex, who seemed to care about T.K., and who refused to have sex with him until the third date.  Alex was meaningful, and it felt like a welcome change. He thought Alex would burst through the haze and make him feel something again. Things didn’t turn out as he wanted, obviously.

Alan, Adrian, Ambrose, Alex. He always did have a thing for the A names, who always turned out to be people who treated him the ways he wanted but didn’t deserve. Alarming, Abysmal, Abusive, Acerbic. He tried not to think about the most dangerous A name: Addicted.

Four

He still doesn’t know if the overdose was a planned suicide attempt. It wasn’t something he’d thought that much about, really. It had been an impulse more than anything, but there’s a part of him that figured it would be better to die. Even in death, he didn’t want anyone to know about the darkness that had lived inside him for so long because it was so shameful, but he was starting to fear that death was the only way to get rid of the darkness for good, so taking a bunch pills seemed like a good idea. He’d just seem like an addict who went a little too crazy. He’d leave it up to fate what happened to him.

So, while he doesn’t know if he planned on trying to kill himself, in effect, he wanted to. He wouldn’t have taken so many pills if he just wanted to get high. Accidental overdoses do happen, but T.K. knew he couldn’t handle that many. He knew it, but he did it anyway, praying to the God he didn’t believe in that this would be the end. He should’ve known that prayers don’t work when there’s no one there to receive them.

It wasn’t even about Alex. Obviously, being cheated on and a failed proposal weren’t fun, but somewhere deep down, he knew that he and Alex would never work. Alex was just a body to fill the hole in T.K.’s life. T.K. had loved him, but he’d worked to love him, and he’d fought for that love long past its expiration. Then, when Alex was gone, it was overwhelming. The dam was leaky, and now there was nothing left to plug it. Alex had been a band-aid, one T.K. had gotten used to relying on, and as everything fell apart all at once, T.K. was overwhelmed with all the things he’d never dealt with. He’d found some oxy, and decided to take a break while hoping that maybe, he could quit altogether.

The scariest part is that he went from the sharp panic of wanting— needing— to die to waking up and feeling fine. Well, not fine, but not like he’d jump off the first ledge he could find. The darkness had temporarily backed off, and the shame of a failed suicide-ish attempt kept him from wanting to take any more risks right away.

The after-effects of an overdose sucked, but while he was still in the hospital, he felt an unusual calm, and then, just as the anxiety had begun to infiltrate his body again, the move to Texas had kept him too busy to sit much with the feelings he was avoiding, so while he wasn’t okay, he could pretend that he was. Pretend that he was better. Pretend that he was putting his all into therapy. Pretend that he was the good son he long ago realized he could never be.

After his attempt, he felt better even if he knew the dark thoughts would still come in and out of him like patients through the hospital’s revolving door. The thing about suicidal thoughts is that they never last forever. They rush in like high tide, but then, they recede. They go away for a bit, but they come back and angry and vicious, and they erode you. They wear you down until you can’t stand to wait the thoughts out and have the overwhelming compulsion just to get rid of them for good. High tide becomes safety, and the thoughts of living become more intrusive than the thoughts of dying.  

By the time T.K. woke up, the waves had already settled. He still wanted to die, but it had become a distant desire that he could ignore for a little while until it came back when the darkness caught up with him again. Maybe someday T.K. wouldn’t always have to be running, but he was good at running. Times when he was forced to stop were the problem because when you were stuck in place and unwilling to move was when the tide could carry you away.

+1

He’s unconscious. He knows that. He can feel bodies looming over him, urging him to wake up. They’re sad. He can hear that in their hushed voices, but the darkness is there too. It’s telling him that this could be the end. He could keep his eyes closed and never have to deal with life again, and this way, it wouldn’t even have to be his fault. It could merely be a tragedy, and he could die as a hero instead of a coward who just wants the easy way out.

Though, T.K. knows he’s never been a coward. He’s wanted to die many times, but it takes bravery to live with that or even die with that awful, all consuming feeling. It takes courage to get out of bed when it feels like a whole house has been built on your chest overnight on top of the foundation of bad decisions that were built the night before. It takes strength to resist the urge for the calmness of death when the chaos of life is so draining. For every time he tried or thought of killing himself, there is the low of still being alive and sick, and getting through that low is a miracle. The hard part isn’t being knocked down, or even getting back up; it’s being pulled to your feet by a force outside of yourself and having to stand on your own when your legs just want to buckle and your eyelids feel too heavy to open. It’s looking at the light around you when the darkness is so easy and doesn’t sting.

It would be so easy to stop fighting. The temptation is there, and he can feel the darkness pressing down on his eyelids like iron blocks. Everything is simpler with his eyes closed, especially when he doesn’t know the hardships that wait for him in the land of the conscious. He doesn’t know if he’s going to be permanently damaged when he wakes up. He knows no matter what, it’ll be emotionally hard to deal with nearly dying… again. Life has never been easy, and it never will be. He still thinks there’s a chance that death might be happier, but he can’t give up now.

Even if he wants to give up for himself, he can’t stand the thought of how the people who love him will react, especially his dad. He hates to think that he might miss out on falling in love or laughing with his friends. Wanting to die isn’t selfish, but to T.K. it has always made him feel that way. It’s filled him with guilt and made him feel like the worst person alive. It’s convinced him that the selfish thing is staying alive because whether they know it or not, the people who love him would have an easier time if he were dead, but he doesn’t want to think that anymore.

He wants to live. In this moment, he wants to see what can happen if he gives life a chance. Tomorrow, he might be back to wanting to be dead, but that’s okay because today, he’s willing to give life another shot.

He pushes at his eyelids. They twitch but they don’t open, of course, they don’t because living takes a lot more than will. It takes some semblance of harmony from every force imaginable.

T.K.’s out of breath from his attempt, but for all his faults, he’s always been good at endurance. As a kid, when he wasn’t quite as athletic as the other kids, he always pushed himself to be the fastest at the mile. By the second lap around the track, his throat would be dry and coppery, but he’d only push himself harder, fighting through the pain to prove to himself that he could beat all the other kids. He’d collapse to the ground, huffing and puffing but proud at his time. He’d get through it by reminding himself that he had just three more laps, just two more, just one more, just half a lap more, just a few feet more. He’d take it in small increments, so the agony seemed less laborious. He could do that now too. He’d take the distance victory of getting better and focus on the small victory of opening his eyes.

He pushed his eyes again, a little bit more than the last time, and it was still just a twitch, but a burst of white light flickered through the tiny crack, and the sound of his dad’s voice didn’t sound so much like it was submerged in water.

He kept pushing at his eyelids and finally after two dozen tries, his eyes peeled open tentatively, and he saw the blurry but familiar faces of his dad and almost boyfriend in the blinding light of the hospital. He snaps his eyes closed again, unable to handle the stark light, but he’s in control of them now. He opens them again, and the light is less painful. Another blink. Again, they open, and he can’t help testing to make sure they still work. He hears people around him, and there’s a flurry of stress and excitement, but he doesn’t make too much of it. He’s alive, and he’s going to find a way to handle whatever life throws at him.

[winryofresembool]

Fic: Nightmares and Morse Code

Fandom: Heroes of Olympus (I imagine this happening some time post TBoO. Also, I have not read Trials of Apollo and I don’t know if I ever will so if this fic has some canon divergence, that’s why)

Characters/ships: Leo Valdez/Calypso

Summary: Calypso notices a certain habit of Leo's when she's trying to comfort him after a nightmare.

AO3 link

A/N: I decided to post this fic here too, so if you saw a link earlier, yes it’s the same fic. Anyway, I guess I am now officially writing non FMA content. Heroes of Olympus has pretty much consumed my life for the past few weeks (or even months by now) and while I adore Leo and also Caleo as a ship, I've noticed the fandom doesn't agree with me especially on the latter and there's very little Caleo content anywhere. So, I decided to change that! The idea of Leo saying I love you for the first time through Morse Code had me soft and I just had to write a fic around that. So, without a further ado, please enjoy and don't forget to review especially if you'd like to see me write more HoO content in the future! (And FMA fans, don't worry, I surely haven't abandoned Edwin or my fankids!!)

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warnings: none?

...

That night was particularly bad. Leo thought that in exchange for the happy moments he spent with Calypso, some evil force had decided to make his dreams double as bad.

Some of them were old, familiar ones. The fire that had killed his mother. Abusive foster families and bullies at schools he had escaped from. The voice telling him that he’d forever be the seventh wheel, his friends smiling and laughing together while he was stuck alone in his bunker. The Argo II group, all except him, getting killed by the giants, because of him.

But there were a couple of new ones too. In the first one he was back in the underworld, feeling that same pain he had back then he had died, positive he was on his way to Tartarus. But he found the second dream worse: Gaea was torturing Calypso, telling Leo that he had to pick from two options: either Calypso would have to die or she’d wake up again and destroy all the life on earth. If Leo had had to pick between himself and the rest of the world, he wouldn’t have had to think long. But… Calypso was just barely starting to learn what living in the real world meant after her 3000 years lasting imprisonment, she was so excited and happy to see new things, and genuinely wanted to be with Leo (despite the constant bickering) for reasons he didn’t quite understand, and… he could not bear the thought of living without her. Finally, he woke up to his own screams as he watched Gaea’s ‘minions’ cut her with a sharp knife yet again.

“Leo?”

It was too dark in his room to see, but he heard fast footsteps approaching him and soon the door was opened and someone switched the light on. He had to squint and protect his eyes from the light before he finally saw the slender figure next to him. Relief flooded into him as he realized that it had all been just a nightmare and Calypso was just fine, although with a very worried expression on her face.

“Hey, Sunshine,” Leo said with a slightly hoarse voice, attempting a lopsided smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What’s up?”

“I… heard you screaming.” Calypso replied, suddenly embarrassed about rushing into his bedroom like that.

“Me? Screaming?” Leo sat up and waved his hand, trying to brush it off. “I think your ears are not quite yet used to the mortal world, mi sol.”

“Leo Valdez. I’m serious. I know what I heard.” Calypso glared at him, her beautiful features getting surprisingly scary when she wanted to. However, Leo didn’t budge.

“Sirius? Like Sirius Black from Harry Potter? I thought your name is Calypso,” he attempted, fully aware of how poor his joke was.

“What’s Harry Potter?” Calypso asked with confusion, not yet familiar with the modern popular culture.

“Only the most popular black-haired fantasy hero of our time… After me, of course.” Leo winked, but Calypso wasn’t happy with his answer.

“You’re only trying to make me forget the original topic. Why were you screaming?”

His face fell and he was twitching his hands nervously on his lap.

“Fine. It was a nightmare. But nothing I can’t handle.”

Calypso looked at him sadly, wanting to reach him but not sure if she should. Instead, she said softly: “I know you’re trying to act brave for me, but you don’t have to. I can see that something is hurting you and I want to help you. Like you’ve helped me. Maybe opening up would help you feel better.”

At this point Calypso noticed that Leo seemed to be tapping a certain pattern on the wooden edge of the bed with his fingers. She wanted to ask about it, but decided against it. Instead, she sat down next to him and slowly inched her hand towards his arm, encouraging him to talk.

Leo shook his head to clear his mind. “I… well, in these nightmares, I was reliving some of my worst memories… My mother and stuff… But there was a new dream too.”

“Please. Tell me about it.”

Leo tried to resist but something about Calypso’s calm tone and expression worked like Piper’s charmspeaking and he started babbling so fast Calypso couldn’t keep up with him. “Calm down a bit, Hot Head,” she stopped him. “I only got the part that I was in the dream.”

Leo took a deep breath, trying to focus on his hands that were still tapping against the wood nervously. Then he started in a slower pace: “Yeah… Dirt Face… I mean Gaea…” he added when Calypso raised her eyebrow questioningly, “in this dream, she was trying to wake up again… And she tried to make me choose between you… and the rest of the world… I mean, either you die or them… and I couldn’t.”

Calypso let that information sink in. Trying to hide her emotions, she crossed her arms over her chest and asked: “Are you saying that you would even consider letting me stay alive if you could save the rest of the world?”

Leo probably hadn’t expected that reaction. He failed to recognize that a part of the reason Calypso asked that was to conceal the fact that she was moved, going defensive: “But Cal, remember how she tried to make you kill me in Ogygia. And she could have offered you something much better than I could. But you refused to kill me. You even helped me get off that island even though… you know.” In his mind he added ‘even though it hurt you’. “Do you really think that after all that I could just…”

“Hey, it’s OK. I… think I understand your feeling. But thankfully you don’t have to choose because I’m right here, I’m OK, and she’s gone.” Calypso squeezed Leo’s free hand briefly. After a moment of silence, deciding to change the subject: “That… thing you do with your fingers… Is that a Morse code? Or have you been listening to too much of that rap music you talk about?”

Suddenly Leo’s face went all red. Calypso probably would be weirded out by his habit if she knew the meaning. “You… don’t happen to know Morse code, do you?”

“Not really…” she had to admit.

“That’s… that’s fine. The thing I was doing was just something my mother taught me when I was a kid.” Leo shrugged, trying to look casual.

“Oh… I thought it might mean something.”

“Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. If you want to know, you’ll have to figure it out on your own.” Leo smirked, even though he couldn’t hide his blushing.

“Leo Valdez, so full of mysteries.” Calypso rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“That’s why the ladies love me! Even you fell for my mysterious charm.”

“Uhhuh.” Calypso pushed him back to his bed, sticking her tongue out. Then she spoke with a softer tone. “So, are you feeling better now?”

“I think I am. Thanks. Talking with you made me feel better.” He still looked like something was bothering him, though. In reality, some, annoying part of him tried to tell him to reveal the code.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Calypso replied, reaching to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Um, maybe I should go back to bed. We have some work to do tomorrow.”

“Sure… Well, good night,” Leo answered, looking a bit… disappointed? Before Calypso was out of the room, though, he said with a new determination:

“Hey, Sunshine. I’ll give you a hint. It’s ‘te quiero’ in Spanish.

“What is?”

“The code. And… I mean it. With you.”

“Oh. Okay.” Calypso answered, even more confused than before as she exited the room. She only knew a couple of Spanish swear words (thanks to Leo) so she had no idea what ‘kiero’ or whatever that word was meant. But she decided to find out.

…

A week later, Calypso heard Leo scream again. But this time, instead of waking him up and inquiring him about his dreams, she decided to sit down on a chair next to the bed and hold his hand, hoping it would reach him. She had spent a long time researching on both Spanish language and Morse codes and had finally cracked Leo’s code. Some part of her had already known its meaning but seeing it for real had made her strangely overwhelmed. As she saw him there, whimpering quietly, scrunching his forehead and looking so vulnerable , that exact same emotion he had been expressing struck her with force. This brave, determined, smart (and, she had to admit to herself, sometimes kinda funny) boy had been through so much. Ever since his mother had died, his life had been nothing but a struggle, and even now that they were (relatively) safe, the ghosts of the things he had experienced were still haunting him. She wanted to show him there were still things worth living, worth loving, in this world.

So she started softly tapping on his hand.

.. .-.. --- ...- . -.-- --- ..-

I. Love. You.

It seemed his form relaxed as she reached the end of the code. She waited a bit longer to see if the nightmare had faded away, but when she finally stood up about to leave, his fingers suddenly wrapped up around hers.

“So you figured it out,” a sleepy voice said against his pillow.

“I did,” Calypso admitted.

“Cal.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t go.”

Calypso wasn’t sure if she had heard right. “Huh?”

“I… I’d like you to stay.” Leo said, sounding unusually vulnerable.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sunshine.”

“OK. I’ll stay then.”

Leo backed up in his bed to make her space, and she settled down next to him. She didn’t protest when an arm wrapped around his waist after he had put the comforter over them, instead nuzzling closer to him and taking in the warmth that was radiating from him. And gods, he really was warm. The two didn’t say much after that, but Leo’s fingers started automatically tapping an answer to her message against her stomach. Soon enough, both of them started drifting into sleep, this time a much more peaceful one.

[saieras]

Hearts of Iron

CH1: Will you be my big brother?

Summary: Set AFTER ENDGAME. SPOILERS.

Follows the Iron Fam as they navigate the world post-Endgame.

Genre: Family fluff, Hurt/comfort, Angst

Rating: T

Peter’s life had ended back on the alien planet.

He hadn’t wanted to go, back then. Even as he woke, that fear, that desperation, they’d clung to him, almost debilitating, until the red-caped Doctor had come over to shake him out of it.

It was oblivion made manifest, the closest Peter had come to staring down into the Abyss.

But he was an optimist: had always been. Uncle Ben said it was one of his best qualities. He knew he could work through it; would work through it, just like every other time—especially when there was fighting to be had, people to be saved. He would be brave.

That was what he believed, what he’d always believed, ever since a warehouse collapsed on top of him and he had to fight Mr. Toomes on an airplane. And if Peter Parker failed, Spider-man would succeed, and pull through.

It’s worked out so far. And he was certain it would work again.

Until it didn’t. Until the finger snap, as loud as any explosion.

Until the moment the blue-white glow blinked out, and Pepper broke down in sobs.

Until Peter’s life ended a second time that day.

He carried the body with Pepper and Rhodey. They had become familiar with him during his junior year, given how frequently he’d dropped by the Compound, but now, even as they smiled at him, they seemed foreign, tired… old. People out of time—grayer, more weathered, and more beaten than he remembered. And exhausted.

Or perhaps he was the one out of time.

Right, he thought, recalling the Doctor’s words. It’s been five years.

Any one of them could’ve carried the body alone. But it still took the three of them, which shouldn’t be surprising.

They carried in their arms the weight of the world, after all.

No one else stepped forward. The battlefield was quiet, all eyes watching their slow procession. Peter thought he saw some people wanting to come over, to help, but they were all held back. So they remained the only three, marching across the dusty blood-soaked land. Pepper was at the front, her grip tender on the shoulders, and Peter trusted she knew where they had to go.

Because he didn’t. He was dead, remember?

He stared at her back, focusing on the blue-grey lines of the gleaming metal. Anything to not look sideways, to not see what he was holding, so light yet so unbearably heavy. He could walk forever like this, he thought. He almost wanted himself to turn to dust again, and had to consciously tell himself to breathe, to walk. One step ahead of the other, one ahead of the other. Step step step. Good job, Peter.

They reached an unmanned aircraft with the Stark industry logo, which came to land in a relatively open field. Pepper had probably summoned it. The doors on its belly opened, and the three of them entered, carefully carrying the body up the ramp. It was a private jet, sparsely furnished in the sleek technological edge characteristic of the company.

Peter couldn’t much bring himself to care.

They laid him on a bed which popped out of nowhere. Peter turned away as they lowered the body onto the mattress. Already it was growing cold. Or was that his imagination? He wouldn’t know. He was dead, remember?

“FRIDAY,” Pepper said, softly. “Let’s go home.”

The plane doors closed with a hiss, blocking out the sights and sounds of the world beyond them.

A world redeemed. A world saved.

A world shattered.

The plane lifted off. It was exceptionally well-designed, just like anything from Stark Industries, and Peter felt barely a hitch.

He didn’t want to be here.

He didn’t want to be on the plane.

Not when he laid right there, in front, on the bed.

Peter wished he were dead. He wished he were the one who’d used the gauntlet. He had that gauntlet in his hands for something close to three minutes. A ridiculously long time.

Why hadn’t he thought to use it? He had it right there. All he had to do was reach in, and snap.

Why, why, why? Why hadn’t it been me?

WHY?

It was his fault, his fault, his fault. Stupid Peter, stupid, stupid!!

A hand rested on his shoulders, and he realized there were tears streaming down his face.

“It’s okay, kid,” Rhodey said. “We’re alone.”

Peter tried to croak out a response. But the man only tugged at his shoulder, and the boy crumpled onto the floor beside the bed, and screamed into the sheets.

He was faintly aware of the two others sitting down on the floor beside him. One caressed his hair. The other patted his back. They too were screaming, he knew, in their own way. The silent, adult way.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“We are, too,” Pepper said, her hand still in his hair. “We are, too.”

She could only sob, and sob, and sob.

She’s different, Peter thought as he patted her back. There were wrinkles where there hadn’t been, streaks of grey hidden beneath the auburn. She was holding him with every ounce of strength she had, fingers digging into his shirt. His shoulders were soaked through with tears.

“I’m back, May,” he whispered softly. “I’m back, I’m okay.”

She didn’t respond. She just held him, and held him, crying.

Peter couldn’t bring himself to cry, even as her tears dripped onto his cheeks, and she planted kisses on his forehead, his face, anywhere she could kiss.

She needed this.

For him, it had only been a day. For her, it had been five long, devastating years.

“I’m sorry,” he told her.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “It’s not your fault.”

“Okay,” Peter said, hugging her back. He wasn’t sure he believed her.

May brought a sleeping bag to his room. It had been kept in pristine condition: not a single item had been moved, as if just waiting for him to come back.

“I’m not going to leave you alone,” she said simply.

Despite himself, Peter felt a little annoyed. How was he supposed to sleep?

“But you snore,” he pointed out. “Pretty loud, too.”

She laughed, but he could see the fear in her eyes, the unadulterated terror.

And for the first time, Peter felt a stabbing guilt in his chest. He’d left her. He’d left her, alone in their apartment, small but still too-vast for her alone, for five agonizing years.

He relented. She beamed.

Peter didn’t like to sleep, because there was no telling what he might dream of these days.

Half the time it would be the oblivion—the dust, the fear and excruciation as his atoms disintegrated. The dreams of the Abyss, relived as the day he’d disappeared.

Those dreams were scary, and painful, and sometimes woke him up. Very unpleasant, and they always left May stricken with worry.

But he’d rather have those dreams every single night… if it saved him from dreaming about that.

He couldn’t, couldn’t, see that again.

Of course his dreams didn’t care about what he wanted, and tonight, after he’d finally fallen asleep, he was stepping through the portal, and the field of battle was ahead of him.

Peter numbed himself the moment he understood where he was. It was the only thing that worked. He couldn’t wake himself up, he couldn’t control his body, he couldn’t even panic and run away. All he could do was watch, in abject horror, as his memories unfolded.

As he snapped.

As everything turned white.

As the arc reactor flickered out.

He woke up screaming.

May was awake instantly, and by his side. And for the first time since he came home, Peter cried.

“It should’ve been me.”

His voice was tight and hoarse, choked. His cheeks were splashed wet.

“No, no no,” she whispered. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true! It should’ve been me. It’s my fault, my fault!”

He had never told her the story. He expected her to be confused. But someone else must have, because she understood.

“It’s not,” she said, pressing his face into her, and brushing his hair. “It’s nobody’s fault.”

“But I had the thing, the glove. I could’ve—I should’ve…”

“Shhh,” May said. She took a halting breath, and Peter realized she was on the edge of tears. “No. You hear me? No! Just, NO!!”

Her voice broke. He fell silent. He’d never heard her so angry.

“I know, I know you superhero types think that way, too damned often.” Her fingers tangled themselves in his wavy locks. “But I don’t want a goddamn superhero. I just want my nephew, safe and sound. Is that too much to ask?”

In the darkness, their breathing were loud and raspy. It was almost a whisper, when she spoke.

“Please, Peter. Please… please don’t make me lose you again.”

It broke him to hear her like that.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“Are we there yet?” Morgan asked, for the third time. She stared outside the window, and saw only rows upon rows of the same-looking houses, before blocks of grey apartment buildings poked up in the distance. She kicked her feet, bored.

“Soon, squirt,” Happy answered from next to her, in the driver’s seat. Morgan liked him. He always got her her favorite treats, more than Mommy said she could get, and he smelled nice, and wore smooth silky jackets that were nice to touch. He was just a little slow, sometimes.

“Yes,” she said patiently, “but how soon?”

“In six hundred seconds,” Happy said.

“That’s ten minutes,” Morgan pointed out instantly. “But you said ten minutes three minutes ago, and five minutes ago. So you lied.”

The man laughed. Morgan pouted, a bit annoyed. He shouldn’t laugh, not when she’s been so patient with him. He was obviously bad with numbers, because he’s been answering her with the same number over and over. But then Daddy always said she shouldn’t assume everybody could do math, even if it might be super simple. She supposed Happy must be one of those people who just couldn’t do math.

“We’ll be there in five minutes, Mo,” came Mommy’s voice from behind her. Morgan hopped onto the seat cushion and turned around. Mommy was facing her, a smile on her face.

“Thank you, Mommy,” she said, and shot Happy a triumphant glance. The man laughed again.

“You’re welcome, Mo,” she said. “Now sit down again. Where are your seatbelts?”

“Sorry,” Morgan said, slipping back down into her seat. “Seatbelt, please!” she said.

“Sure thing,” FRIDAY said, and Morgan giggled as the straps came around her belly and locked her snugly in place.

Since Mommy never lied, they did get to where they were going just as the five minutes were about to be used up.

Morgan held onto Mommy’s warm hands as she skipped on the concrete sidewalk. They walked up to a tall building with a lot of doorbells on the front door.

“I wanna press it, I wanna press it!” Morgan said, and gave Mommy a kiss when she held her up to do just that.

“Now, Mo, do you remember which one to press?”

“Seven B!” Morgan exclaimed. She was good at remembering things.

“Very good,” Mommy said, as Morgan’s stubby fingers pressed down on the button labeled 7-B. A second later, the front door clicked as it unlocked. 

“I can climb by myself!” Morgan said, squirming to get down.

“You sure?” Mommy asked.

“Uh huh!” the girl exclaimed, and shot ahead the moment she was put on the ground.

“Wait up, little lady!” Happy called out after her, but she was already rounding the corner of the first flight of stairs, giggling.

“Wait for us at the fifth floor!” Mommy called out after her.

“Okay!” Morgan called back, remembering to keep track of the floors. She blazed past the second and third stories with ease, and only began to feel a bit tired on the fourth. “Mommy and Happy are slowpokes!” she shouted through the cracks of the stairwell, and heard them laughing in response.

She was about to run up to the fifth floor, when she bumped headfirst into someone. With a yelp, Morgan tumbled backwards, only to be caught by warm hands which had snuck behind her back somehow.

“Are you okay?” asked a voice.

Morgan thought it sounded sad. She didn’t know why, but she knew. Lately, everyone’s been sounding sad at home, even when they were laughing, so she’s learned to recognize that kind of voice. She’s been trying her very very best to cheer everyone up, but she wasn’t as good at it as Daddy was. She would have to wait until he got back from his trip, she thought. He’ll know how to make everyone happy again.

Then she remembered she had been asked a question, and Mommy said it was polite to answer a question, if it wasn’t about secret stuff like Mommy or Daddy or the Abenchers.

“I am okay!” she declared. Then she looked up.

The person in front of her wasn’t very tall. Well, to Morgan everyone was very tall, but he was a little shorter than Daddy. He had brown wavy hair and clear brown eyes.

“Hey, are you lost?” he asked. “What’s your name?”

Morgan knew exactly who he was, and she beamed, because she’s been wanting to meet him for so long. Mommy said he had moved away—far far away—before Morgan had been born. Daddy missed him, Morgan knew; it was a deep kind of missing, not like how they missed Mommy whenever she went on a business trip. It was the kind of missing that didn’t go away, the kind that was carved into the lines on Daddy’s face, and painted into his eyes like hologram displays.

Daddy had told her lots of stories about him, and FRIDAY had photos and recordings of him stored in a special folder. Daddy looked at them sometimes, and when Morgan had been old enough to understand, he’d tell her stories. They were always funny stories, like accidentally turning the garage into a bubble bath, or ordering too much ice cream that it’d all melted out on the tarmac and made a complete mess everywhere.

So, yes, she knew exactly who he was.

“Peter!” she squealed, rushing forward and jumping into his arms.

He caught her, clearly surprised. “Uh…” he said, “You… know me?”

Morgan giggled and kicked her feet. “Ya huh! I bet you um, I bet you three thousand, you don’t know who I am!”

A small smile broke on Peter’s face. He straightened up, lifting her easily. Morgan liked the way he held her. It was like Daddy, in some ways, but also different. She also liked the way he smelled, and the way his arms were snug around her.

“I don’t have three thousand,” he said. “Can I still guess?”

Morgan nodded. “Uh huh.”

“Hmm, let’s see. You know my name. Are you from our building?”

“Nuh uh,” she shook her head.

“Then… are you from our block?”

“Nuh uh,” she said, giddy. “You only have three chances, Peter!”

He looked at her with such exaggerated hurt on his face that she laughed. “Three chances! You didn’t tell me about that.”

“It’s a genie’s rule!” she said. “Last chance!”

“Hmm. You’re not from this apartment, and not from the block, but you know me…” he furrowed his brows, really thinking at this point. Morgan clutched his shirt, and kicked her feet happily. Daddy was right. She liked Peter.

“Ding ding ding!” she said, after a few seconds. “Time’s up!”

“You’re a very tough genie,” Peter complained. “Alright, I’m guessing one of your brothers or sisters go to Midtown Science and Tech?” Then, as if realizing this may be too advanced a question, he smiled and brushed her hair. “It’s okay if you don’t know.”

Morgan was about to say no, when she remembered something Daddy had said. She was good at remembering things, after all.

“Uh huh,” she nodded.

“Ha!” Peter exclaimed, a boyish triumph shining through that sadness Morgan observed earlier. “I knew it! Who is it? Is it Betty? Or Jason? Charlie?”

“Hehe,” Morgan giggled. “Nooo! He’s called Peter.”

“Peter?” the boy frowned. “But there are no other Peters in my grade. At least there weren’t, before… the, uh…” He shook his head, as if chasing away a sad thought. “Ehhem, anyway, what’s your last name again?”

Morgan made a face at him, and he grinned.

“My last name is a secret!” she declared.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Uh huh,” the girl nodded adamantly. “You have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Peter laughed. “I promise.”

She nodded, satisfied. Then she leaned in next to his ear.

“My last name is Stark,” she said. “My name is Morgan Stark!” She pulled away and tickled his neck. “Silly Peter! I was talking about you! Daddy said you would be like my big brother, if I ever had one. Hehe. Will you be my big brother, Peter? I’ve always wanted a big brother.”

Peter didn’t respond. Morgan frowned, before she felt a drop of wetness on her forehead. She squealed.

“Ew! Icky Peter!”

He still didn’t respond. She looked up.

He was crying. Big, round tears welled out of his eyes, faster than could drip down. He was mostly silent as they brimmed and slid down his cheeks, only letting out tiny sniffs. He was also just… looking at her; staring, almost. Morgan was suddenly a little scared. She didn’t understand what was going on. She wanted to cry, too. She clung to Peter’s shirt, feeling tinier than usual, and he let out a small ‘Oh’. He gave her a smile that was not quite a smile; a sort of scrunched-up, funny-looking little grimace.

Gently he wrapped his free arm around her, holding her tight and close and snug. Then he began to sob.

“Yes,” he only said, hoarse and trembling, as the droplets soaked through her dress.

“Yes, I will.”

To be continued.

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